Marvel One Shots

"Knife the Resignation"

Natasha's training to become a SHIELD agent had been...eventful, to say the least. No one had ever gone through the mandatory training faster. (Well, other than Nick Fury, but that's because he made the rules before he fully realized they applied to him too.) Tensions had been high, and with everyone trying to prove themselves as valuable, more than one person demanded a meeting with Director Fury, declaring that there was a Russian assassin in their midst.

Even with the superior officers denying it, rumors still spread like wildfire. And Clint's regular visitations only added fuel to the flames. The theories were far-fetched gossip, but the agents-to-be would have sworn that Natasha was either Clint's crazy Russian ex, or that she had chosen him to help her infiltrate SHIELD and started World War 3. The latter theory especially amused Natasha. As if she would choose Barton as her partner to bring about World War 3. Absolutely not! He talked too much.

The rumors evaporated right before graduation when a cadet walked into the training gym and nearly got hit by a throwing knife and a rubber-tipped arrow simultaneously.

How is this possible, you might ask?

Well, the simplest answer is that one of SHIELD's best agents and their most promising agent-to-be were fighting. And none of that that pansy fighting with gloves and other protective gear. In fact, if the cadet hadn't known better, he would have thought they were trying to kill each other.

Disclaimer: they kinda were

It had all started whenever Natasha had visited Fury's office to sign that papers that would make her an agent. Like a reasonable person, she read the contract in case she was signing her life away to some god of corn or something like that.

And that was when she spotted it. The bold letters that stated that all agents would have to go through a psychological evaluation before being cleared for active field duty. If they did not pass the evaluation, they would be recommended for a job elsewhere in SHIELD. (ie. given desk duty for the rest of eternity)

Naturally, Natasha wasn't happy. Not only had she just gone through 6 months worth of psychological testing and deprogramming, but she knew that any psychologist worth their salt would immediately recognize that her mind was so messed up, that a customer-service position at Walmart could probably be a too high stress situation for her. If a doctor cleared her for active duty, they would have to be fired for incompetence.

Agents Coulson and Barton, ever present, expressed the same sentiments. The fact is, most of SHIELD's high level agents shouldn't be cleared for active duty. But their work didn't come without mental and emotional scars.

But Director Fury remained adamant that Natasha had to take the evaluation.

"As much as I would love to break the rules with a baseball bat, Ms. Romanoff, you must obey. Becoming an agent shouldn't even be an option for you. The only reason that the government hasn't taken you away yet is that they can't prove that you exist. Just help me out, I'm trying to run a semi-legal operation here."

Exasperated, Natasha excused herself from the Director's office and left before anyone could get a word in edgewise. And after a stern look from Coulson, Clint soon followed suit, running to catch up. For being to short, she sure could move fast.

"Natasha! Tasha, come on, just sign the paper."

"No."

"But why not? Look, I know that it isn't ideal, but everyone has to do it."

"I'm not everyone, Clint."

Natasha picked up her pace, making for the training room. Why couldn't Barton just leave her alone for a little while?

Clint stopped in his tracks, narrowing his eyes at Natasha. It wasn't like her to be so dramatic. Or to be dramatic at all, for that matter. He jogged after her, slipping through the swinging door of the gym. "Come on, Tasha, the evaluations aren't that bad. I did 'em, Phil did 'em, heck even the field medics have to do them."

Natasha turned on Clint, a scowl on her face. "It's different, and you know it, Barton. Everyone else didn't have to murder their sister when they were 10. Everyone else wasn't trained to kill from the time that they could walk. And everyone else certainly wasn't brainwashed into blindly doing a N*zi organization's dirty work." She poked her finger into Clint's chest at the last sentence before whipping around, pretending to be occupied in the weak hope that Clint would leave her alone.

Clint stepped forward again, tugging on her shoulder to pull Natasha around, and before he knew it he was on the ground.

"Don't touch me." Natasha's voice was calm, but a warning was clear as she started walking away.

Clint hopped up, getting unexpectedly upset at the situation. "You can't hide from this, you know."

"I'm not hiding!"

"Sure, keep telling yourself that, sweetheart." Clint said in a patronizing tone. "You can handle a little psych evaluation, so stop making excuses!"

Natasha glared at Clint, crossing her arms defiantly. "And just what am I making excuses for, exactly?"

Clint closed the space between them, getting into her personal space out of pure annoyance. "What are you making excuses for! For the love of God, Natasha, I didn't know you were that naïve! Where should I start? You're afraid of commitment, of stability, and God forbid you have a normal relationship with a human being! If you can't handle our line of work anymore, then quit. But don't lead anyone on."

Natasha shoved Clint out of her face, admittedly harder than she intended, but she couldn't bring herself to care. "You don't know me, Clint, and don't pretend that you do."

"I know you better than anyone, Natasha. Who else would know you? Your old handler? Your sister? 'Cause news flash, they're dead." Clint scowled, advancing again.

Natasha's face went blank when Clint mentioned her sister. "Hey, don't talk about her!"

Clint raised an eyebrow. "Make me stop."

He would soon regret those words.

Natasha came at him in such a fury had it was hard to tell when and where the blows were coming from. All Clint knew was that they hurt like crazy in the aftermath. Following a mad 45 second scuffle, weapons were drawn and things started flying.

When the door was opened, both of them instinctively shot (or threw) a projectile towards whoever was coming in, and they continued sparring until they realized that they had just sent flying projectiles towards a cadet.

The battle came to an abrupt pause, both Clint and Natasha came to a quick halt, out of breath and a little worse for wear. They looked towards the door, but the cadet was already gone, having disappeared quickly into the hallway. With adrenaline fading fast, the two assassins regarded each other with a look of both contempt and satisfaction.

"So...You're not gonna resign now, are you?"

Natasha scoffed, throwing the last of her knives forcefully into a crack in the wall. "Knife the resignation for all I care. Where else am I going to get a sparring partner that can actually fight?"