Natasha Romanoff x Reader Oneshots

i know you (part 2)

everything as in part 1:)
word count: 1,1k
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"Get your hands off of her!" you hear your mother shout, watching as she struggles against the three guards that try to hold her in place. With a quick twist of her wrist the cuffs that previously held her hands together fall to the ground. One of the guards is suddenly in your mother's grip, a knife at his throat "Don't touch her!" she shouts again, fury in her eyes as she circles the room, dragging the guard along.

"Romanova, let him go!" a woman growls back, her gun trained straight at her "Let him go and we can talk!". Your breathing comes in heavy, strong hands holding you by your upper arms- you know better than to struggle, not wanting to escalate the situation further. "Mom, I'm fine" you yell in quick Russian, fearing that the woman might actually shoot her. Your mother's eyes meet yours, her gaze then arming at the guards to your left and right "Let her go", her voice is deep, not a trace of an accent- but her eyes are calculating.

The woman with the tight bun tenses as the guard in your mother's arms struggles to breathe, ragged breaths being drawn in by him as he tries to stay as still as possible, not wanting to hurt himself with the sharp blade that is pressed to his throat.

Maria Hill shoots Clint Barton a firm glance across the room- I told you so. She wouldn't have dared to bring the Black Widow back with her if she was in his position. She is one of the most dangerous women on this planet for God's sake- and now she has an agent of hers at her mercy and a dozen guns trained at her. She knows Barton has a big heart and probably made his decision as soon as he saw the Black Widow's daughter but fucking hell this is not turning out the way that either of them thought.

"Romanova, put the knife down!" she repeats

"So you can shoot me and take my daughter!? A fuck I will, let her go!"

Hill takes a breath and calculated risk, raising one of her hands, signalling the guards to let go of you. As you feel the hands leave your body relieve washes over you- you dart across the room, slipping behind your mother who stares daggers into the woman that obviously is higher ranked than anybody else in this lobby.

The second she finds you safe she pushes the guard away from her and points the knie at boss lady one last time in a silent warning- then it clatters to the floor and her hands raise themselves in the air. Boss lady obviously relaxes at the action and steps closer to which she receives a daring eyebrow raise from your mother. "Let's move to the interrogation room then" she says as if nothing happened.

-

The air in the room is typically cooler than every other room in the building, or space ship, whatever the hell this is. Nothing you're not used to though, you went to harsher interrogations in the Red Room, they've gotta do better than a room a couple degrees below comfortable.

"Well, that was a stunt you pulled back there" boss lady, my name is Hill, says. You've already decided that you do not like her, she has a weird way of interrogating, switching tactics probably every passing minute. This makes it harder to play her and if it would be for the Red Room you would've already get punished for not answering any of her questions- but your mother made you promise to stay silent, to not risk anything and let her do the talking. You fought at first, you're a Widow, were close to graduating and so for more than capable, but she insisted.

"What do you want?" your mother snarls, ignoring the comment, she would do anything to keep you safe. "Well, I wanted you dead but it seems like Agent Barton made a different call now, did he?" boss lady, come on, call me Hill, says. You feel your mother tense for a second before she hits back with a snarky resort "Killing people seems to be what you like, isn't that so Deputy Director Maria Christina Hill?" your mother smirks

"Come on now, don't act so surprised" your mother snorts- but hell even you are confused, does your mother know her? Are you missing out on something here? What the actual hell? "So you know my name, great job" boss lady comments after she got out of her little freeze "Oh, I know a lot more about you" your mother continues "Born 1982 in Chicago, went to juvie once- I wonder about the story behind that. Recruited directly out of the army and rose through the ranks like no one before ever did"

How does she know all this, why hasn't your mother told you about this? What is going on?

Your mother takes the stunned silence of boss lady for a chance to comment further "Oh come on, this agency has probably the worst firewall I've ever seen in my life"

"Alright so you've read my file, don't try to impress me, Romanova" boss lady recovers quickly from the first shock, now leaning back in the uncomfortable chair, her eyes lingering on you. "What's your name?" she asks and you stay quiet. She quirks an eyebrow, a heavy sigh leaving her lips "Alright, so you both need to cooperate for this to work"

"Why do you suddenly want to take me, us, in?" your mother asks, you tense because questions were not allowed in the Red Room but much to your surprise boss lady does reach out to hit her or force her to the floor. "I believe that the second Agent Barton laid eyes on you and her and saw that the both of you are basically kids he chose not to kill you- SHIELD doesn't do that and he especially doesn't" she explains calmly, calculating eyes watching your mother's reaction.

"So what, now you throw us in a cell and torture information out of us?"

"No, no. You're skilled, we could use you both as assets, as agents. Of course you'll have to prove yourself, deprogramming probably, but if you two work hard, we could make it work"

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Okay so sorry for the delay but I've spent the first days of my holidays at my grandparent's house:) Also I see so much potential for this and I'm definitely gonna write at least one other part for this but as this point I don't really know where I wanna take this, so it's gonna take me some time. Just because I don't wanna pressure me and make it sound forced or something