The Story of a Bird and Spider || Clintasha

3

"If Fury calls me a traitor when I get back, I'll leave S.H.I.E.L.D. Anyway, he'll be thankful later when I crack the Black Widow's shell. She's just living in a loop, a CD playing her song over and over. If I can only just get to America before Fury does, maybe the new environment will change her for the better.

"My plan is to bring her to a S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters and get her used to the idea. Of course, there's always more to it. For sparing a life, I think that is enough for now. Maybe I'll get to know her on the 11 hours it takes to get to North Carolina, which is the smallest headquarters I know of.

"The biggest bump in the road is Fury."

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4. Hungary: Budapest, Tuesday, August 11, 18:05

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For a moment, within the Black Widow's hazy mind, she feels as if she's falling. In reality, her eyes snap open and she tries to sit up quickly. A groan passes through her lips and she rolls out from under the bench and massages her forehead forlornly.

A jolt runs through her body and she pitches forward. Before she falls on her hands and knees she catches the bench, and a blanket she doesn't remember having falls from her hips.

The jet is tilted and she smells smoke. Glancing up, she sees Agent Barton straining with the controls, his veins protruding from his exposed arms. In the faint reflection, she can see he has a black bandanna pulled up over his nose. Thick plumes of grey layer over the glass, coating the clear and heavily blocking the view.

"What's going on?" she asks, racing up to Agent Barton's side.

He grimaces. "Someone's hit the jet. I'm thinking missile launcher. We're losing altitude, if you haven't noticed."

"Thanks."

Agent Barton ignores her facetious response. He stands, and the flying vehicle leans even more from his absence at the controls. With her eyes widening, the Widow steps forward and asks, "What are you doing?"

"This isn't going to stop falling. There's no chance." He looks like he's going to leave her here, by the way he's stepping between objects and not meeting her eyes. It'd be the best way to get a mission done, but at this point, why bother killing her at all?

"I..."

"Don't worry. I've got you," he says, still not bringing his eyes up to her's.

'Just trust me.'

Agent Barton presses a button and the back hatch opens. Like a vacuum, the air sucks the breath from her. Blonde hair flips past her face and flutters out around her until the door fully opens. Then everything in the jet settles like dust escaping the wind. He peeks over the edge and she can tell that he's frowning. Striding to the bench where his duffel bags are, he pulls his bandanna down and she sees she's right.

With his two bags in hand he walks to the back where the wind threatens to snatch him out. It's loud, and her eyes sting from the cool air, but as if both things go entirely unnoticed by Agent Barton he leans forward into thin air, tossing both bags down. The sound of two splashes follow.

"Come here. Quickly."

Her feet feel like they're making dents in the metal from her irrational fear of heights as she steps forward. It's a stupid phobia to have as a spy, but no one ever told her how to handle a situation like this.

Impatiently, he starts the snap at her, beckoning her like a dog, and the offense she takes to that jars her back to life. When she reaches him with an air of annoyance, he turns her around by her shoulders. The tips of her boots hang over the edge and she holds her breath.