Chapter Text
“Natasha, Barton. I need you two in my office.” Maria’s voice came through the SHIELD communication system.
Clint huffed, “How come you are Natasha, and I’m still Barton?”
Nat grinned impishly, waggling her eyebrows, “You know why.”
“Gross.” Barton muttered, but he couldn’t help but smile as he trailed behind Natasha who practically skipped her way to the AD’s office.
Even he felt the butterflies in his stomach when the two women shared a loving smile in greeting.
Clint was happy for them. It wasn’t easy, loving with a job like theirs, but somehow Nat and Maria made it work. And how. He had never seen two people who understood each other with such ease.
Her “Natasha-smile” as Clint called it, was quickly replaced by her Deputy Director no-nonsense scowl as Maria Hill got down to business.
“We have received a tip from an insider.” Maria pulled some photos from a manila folder and spread them out on her desk, “Police think they might have a serial killer on their hands.”
Natasha frowned, “We don’t deal in serial killers Maria, what’s the catch?”
“Look at the photos,” Maria urged, “Those are all the victims that they can tie to this murderer.”
Clint pulled his nose up in disgust as he took a closer look at the gruesome pictures.
“They’re too different.” Natasha mused as she saw what Maria meant.
“Exactly. Different ages, genders, cities, races, jobs,” Maria listed, “Either these kills are extremely random, or we have a contract killer.”
“How does he kill them?” Clint asked carefully, noting the amount of blood shown on the pictures.
Maria pulled a face, “Garrote.”
“Tricky weapon.” The assassin in the room muttered. She grabbed a photo and inspected it a little closer, “He’s very skilled.”
“Don’t say that about a killer.” Clint protested, looking a little disturbed.
Natasha rolled her eyes, “Oh don’t be a baby Barton, you know how I meant it. This is trained killing. Our suspect is obviously an assassin.”
She focused back on Maria, “Tell the police that they should find out who these victims pissed off. Maybe they can find the person who made the call.”
“I tried, but the police seems focused on one guy. They’re certain he did it.” Maria handed them a picture of a very angry looking man, “He has a history of psychotic episodes and violence. And he’s a butcher.”
“He didn’t do it though.” Clint stated, “Too unstable for a clean kill like these.”
Natasha nodded her agreement, “These aren’t aggressive murders, it’s too calculated.”
“That’s what I thought too.” Maria smiled grimly, “Glad to know I’m not alone in this.”
“What do you need us to do?” Clint asked.
“Spy.” Maria had a cheerful glint in her eye as she started barking orders at her agents, “Barton, I want duplicates of all the police files and autopsy reports of these people. Nat, you’ll ask around. See if you know a guy who knows a guy. If our killer is a gun for hire, someone will know how to contact him. I’ll dig into their lives,” Maria waved her hand to the pictures of all the victims, “see what they did to get themselves killed.”
“Yes sir.” The two specialist agents responded.
“Good. Barton, you’re dismissed.”
“Huh?” The archer furrowed his brow, “What about Natasha?”
Natasha grinned widely, “Hush, you know I’m her favorite.”
Maria sighed, “Nat, shut up, and Barton, get out. Unless you so desperately need to know what my dinnerplans are with my wife?”
“Dinner is in the microwave! You just have to push the button.” Maria called out as soon as Natasha entered their shared home.
“Thanks babe.” Natasha called back, thanking her lucky stars for a wife like Maria. She honestly wasn’t sure what she did to deserve her.
She made her way to the kitchen and pushed the button on the microwave as instructed.
Maria’s head popped in, and Natasha smiled at how choppy and ragged her hair looked after a day of work.
“How did it go?” Maria asked curiously.
“Meh,” The redhead shrugged, “I asked around, made a little web. Now it’s just a waiting game. I’ll catch something soon.”
“I love it when you get all Black Widow on me.” Maria grinned, hopping over for a kiss.
“What about Clint?”
Maria shrugged, leaning against the counter. “I haven’t heard from him yet. No news is good news, I guess. I don’t plan on bailing him out. Again.”
Natasha chuckled, taking her now warm plate of spaghetti out of the microwave, “This looks good babe.”
They settled down at the table, Maria poured her a glass of wine and grabbed a bottle of beer for herself.
“Would have been better if you were on time though.” The comment was said teasingly, but Natasha could easily sense her wife’s frustration.
“I’m sorry.” Natasha kissed her cheek, “I really tried to be done on time.”
“I know, it’s fine.” She assured her, “You send a text so I wasn’t worried, it’s just… not fun.”
Natasha nodded her agreement, “I’ll try harder next time.”
“Thank you baby.” Maria smiled, “Hey Nat?”
“Mmmh?” Natasha mumbled through a mouth full of food, a piece of spaghetti dangling on her chin.
Maria rolled her eyes at her lack of manners, though she did find it oddly charming to have Natasha Romanoff, the feared Black Widow, at her table, chewing hastily with spaghetti sauce covering her lips.
“You’re a pig.” Maria laughed, throwing a napkin at her wife.
“You love me.” Natasha smiled, “But that wasn’t what you were going to tell me?”
“Oh right. I was just thinking about our case.” Maria sighed, picking at the label on her bottle, “It just doesn’t sit right with me. How come we’re only hearing about this killer now? The precision in the attacks… it’s a skill that takes years and years to perfect. Where has this guy been all those years?
Natasha nodded, “I was thinking the same thing. Where did he practice. And on who?”
“Exactly. So I dug a little, but nowhere in the world has there been a series of unexplained garrote-kills.” The taller woman threw her hands up in frustration, “Like, how is that possible?”
“Military.” Natasha offered, “Special forces work with garrotes, don’t they?”
“Yeah, but they go through so many psychological evaluations.” Maria shook her head, “I’m not saying it’s impossible, but it is unlikely.”
Natasha looked at her wife, cocking her head as she studied her familiar face. “Something is bothering you.”
“Yeah, this case.”
“No.” Natasha placed her hand on Maria’s knee, “There’s something on your mind. I know you Maria, out with it.”
Maria groaned, “Fine! Just don’t get upset.”
“I’ll try to be reasonable.” Nat promised.
“Special forces aren’t the only ones who teach their recruits how to handle a garrote.” Maria said quietly.
“You’re implying…”
“Red Room.”
Natasha took a heavy breath, “Those were my thoughts too. I already included them in my search.”
“Oh… okay.” Maria eyed her carefully, “Do you want to talk about that?”
“Not particularly.” Natasha pursed her lips, “I just asked around a bit, no one really seemed to know anything. Like I said, it’s a waiting game.”
“I’m not talking about your search Nat. I’m talking about Red Room possibly being here.” Natasha was bullshitting her, and Maria wasn’t having it.
“Maria…” Natasha’s eyes softened, “I don’t want to think about that until I have actual real evidence that they are here. Don’t worry so much, I won’t defect to their side.”
Maria scooted her chair closer, and wrapped her arms around her redhead, “I’m not worried about you defecting babe. I trust you. I worry about you going after them without using your brain. I worry about you not coming home to me.”
Natasha kissed her oh so softly, “That’s kinda the job baby. I worry about you too. But I promised you that I would always fight as hard as I can to come back home to you. I love you.”
Maria smiled, leaning in for another kiss. “I love you Nat.”