Chapter Text
He was more than used to being unseen in a crowd, the trick to being truly unnoticed was to never act like you were afraid of being seen. But if there was one place where a man like him was going to be unnoticed. People here had seen much weirder than the likes of him, it was a city with a beating heart of eccentricity, it thrived off of the macabre and strange. There was an electricity to the atmosphere, charging the night with an frantic energy. Now he knew this was where she was, he could understand why. If there were ever a place for the Gunslinger to settle down, it would be New Orleans.
Raucous tourists and locals alike passed him by, not paying attention as he stood in the shadows, across the street from the small bar. It wasn’t a fancy place, it tread the line between worn down and cosy, and through the blue stained glass window, he could see you behind the bar, moving with ease.
“I’ve got eyes on the target. Engaging now.” He spoke aloud.
In a few moments he had crossed the street and pushed the heavy wooden door to the bar open. You didn’t even look up at him.
“We’re technically closed, but there’s some Gumbo left in the pot if you want to take a seat.” You called out, wiping down the bar top with a cloth.
“Does it come with a drink?” He asked.
You shook your head and huffed out a bitter laugh.
“Should have known I wouldn’t be lucky enough to go the rest of my life without seeing you again.” You scoffed.
“We aren’t in the business of luck.” He reminded you.
“I’m not in the business at all anymore.” You reminded him.
And then you finally looked up from the bar and laid eyes on your former boss.
“Fury, you son of a bitch.”
“You gonna keep cussing me out, or can I have that Gumbo I was promised?”
You rolled your eyes and tossed the towel over your shoulder, waving him towards a table as you tread into the kitchen and spooned up a piping hot bowl for him.
“Here. Our chef is one of the finest in the City so Bon’ Appetite. Eat up, and then get the hell out of my bar.” You instructed.
“Your not even going to ask why I’m here?” He enquired, pulling the bowl closer.
“I know why you’re here Fury.” You snapped.
He made a low noise of appreciation as he chewed his meal and gave you a considering look.
“It’s time you get back in the game Agent.”
“Why’s that?” You asked sarcastically.
“Because the world needs people like you, always has, but now more than ever.” He reminded.
“The worlds got Iron Man and Captain America, it doesn’t need a drunk girl with a gun.” You argued.
“No, it needs a woman with nothing left to lose and an innate desire to do the right thing. That’s you.” He rebutted.
“You’re half right, I got nothing left to lose but I’ve got nothing left to give either. I’m out of the game Fury, have been for years and yet I still sleep with a gun under my pillow and wake up in a cold sweat. And you’re asking me to go back in? Hell no.” You told him tightly, grinding your teeth.
“You did the impossible, you did what nobody would have ever expected you to do, you got out. I respect that, I do, but we both know you aren’t the retirement type.” He said.
“I know people used to take bets on how long I’d live. Nobody expected me to live long enough to get out, I didn’t expect it. But the opportunity came and I took it, and I am never going back.” You vowed.
“You’re telling me you don’t miss it?” He scoffed.
“Not a bit.” You said without hesitation, walking back behind the bar and pouring him a drink.
“So the cartel smuggling ships that exploded with several million dollars’ worth of cocaine bound for this city on them three days ago, that had nothing to do with you?” He asked wryly.
“If people are snorting, they aren’t drinking. It was business decision, nothing altruistic about it.” You lied, sliding the glass towards him.
“Bullshit. Bull. Shit.” He snorted, calling you out.
“I’m not coming back. I’m just not. Meals on the house Nick, and don’t come back. Ever.”
He didn’t answer, just continued eating his Gumbo in silence. It was terse and strained, and you let out a relieved breath when he finally finished and stood up.
“Alright, I tried, but I can see you won’t be changing your mind. Have a good life agent.” He said, putting a twenty down on the bar and walking out without another word.
You stared after him, waiting for the door to swing back open, but it didn’t. You didn’t believe that was the end of it, Nick Fury was not a man who gave up so easily. When you bolted the door shut and turned around to see the file sitting on the chair he had occupied, you realised you were right.
“Motherfucker.” You muttered, picking it up and going to toss it in the fireplace in the Kitchen.
But you hesitated. You held it over the flames until your hand grew too warm and you either had to drop the file, or move it away from the fire.
You couldn’t not look, like Fury had known. You needed to know what was in it, what was so important that he came to get you after all this time. With trepidation you flicked through the file, reading the pages by the flickering firelight.
One hour later you opened the car door and tossed your duffle bag inside, piling in after it.
“I hate you.” You hissed at the driver.
“I know.” She said, looking over at you.
“I hate Fury more.” You added as an afterthought.
“I know that too. Welcome back Agent.” Maria smirked.
~~~The Next Day~~~
“I’m getting tired of all these evil organizations all the time, hopefully we get some Aliens next time, mix things up a bit.” Sam called, weaving through the sky and effortlessly avoiding the gunfire aimed at him.
“I hate to point out the obvious, but we are barely getting through these guys.” Tony sighed.
“Fury and Hill are en-route with backup. We just need to hold them off a little longer.” Steve remined everyone.
Tony was right though. The heavily fortified AIM base was proving a tough one to crack, for every line of defence the disabled, there were three dozen more soldiers to greet them.
“We need to get inside and get that virus before they pick us off.” Clint supplied helpfully.
“Clint’s right. If you can step up the firefight, we can try and sneak in to retrieve the virus.” Natasha agreed.
Steve brought up his shield in time to block a spray of bullets, and out of the corner of his eyes he saw the Archer duck and weave his way closer to the building, nocking a blinking arrow in his bow. With perfect aim as usual, the arrow buried itself next to the electronic keypad.
And nothing happened.
“Keypads a fake.” Clint grumbled.
“Hawk, watch out!” Sam yelled, a split second to late.
The door opened from the inside and a half dozen armed gunmen poured out. They were too far away for Steve to hit them with the shield, so he did the next best thing and tossed it to Clint at the same moment they pulled the triggers on their weapons.
Clint was stood in the line of fire, with nowhere to go, and Natasha was running for him but even if she made it in time, there was nothing she could do.
Time seemed to slow to an almost halt as Steve ran through every possible tactical manoeuvre in his head.
Three things happened at once, Clint caught the shield, Natasha dove behind it with him and fired into the cluster of enemies, and somehow, there was a rapid succession of gunshots before every enemy but one dropped to the ground.
“I’m getting real tired of saving your ass, Hawk.” A woman’s voice said in his ear, floating through the comms.
Clint whirled around in shock, his face draining of colour.
“You have got the be fucking kidding me. Gun??” Clint stammered.
Natasha looked shocked, for the briefest of seconds, almost like she’d just seen a ghost. But then she blinked and the shock was gone and her lips were twisting up into a smirk.
“What about my ass?” She asked.
“Watching your ass is always a pleasure, in any capacity, Red. Move it about three inches to the left for me.”
Natasha neatly stepped to the side with an expectant look and a split second later, a bullet whizzed by her, planting itself in the skull of the last gunman.
“Atta girl.” The strange new voice commended.
“Someone needs to explain what the hell just happened.” Tony demanded.
“I promised back-up, don’t say I never do anything for you.” Fury said through the comms.
“Merry fucking Christmas boys and girls.” The woman said.
“Fury?” Steve questioned.
“Captain. Have you found a way inside yet?” Fury asked.
“Not yet. All the doors are heavily guarded.” Steve frowned, putting aside the mystery of the newcomer.
“Somehow I don’t think that’s a problem anymore.” Natasha shrugged.
“If you can’t open a door, make one.” The woman suggested.
“Agent….” Fury said warningly.
There was a beat of silence on the comms while Clint tossed the shied back and Steve in turn tossed it into a soldiers torso.
“Everybody down.” Fury sighed exasperatedly.
They all dove for cover, looking around in curiosity at the same time. There was a low rumbling sound that grew louder by the second, until Steve recognised the roar of an engine.
A black motorbike flew into view, a dark-suited woman astride it. He watched in trepidation as she steered it towards an overturned truck and sped up. Using the broken side of the truck as a makeshift ramp, she zoomed up it and into the air. The bike sailed towards the building, with the woman throwing herself off of it and landing on the ground in a painful looking duck and roll. She took cover behind the truck as the bike crashed into the wall of the building and exploded in a fiery inferno.
“Did she rig the bike with explosives?!” Tony demanded excitedly as the smoke cleared and revealed a hole in the wall.
“She did. Red, Birdy, go get the danger juice.” The woman purred.
“Do what she says, we’ll cover you.” Steve ordered.
Clint and Natasha ran for the building, slowing for a brief second as the passed the woman. He could see the disbelieving looks they gave her and her nonchalant shrug, before the two carefully and quickly climbed through the door she’d made for them.
Steve had a lot of questions, but he put them to one side as he set about taking down as many AIM soldiers as he could, the newcomer stepping into the fray with ease as she pulled two guns from her belt and started firing off shots with impressive accuracy. He slowly but surely made his way over to her, only by the time he got to the truck, she was gone.
“Fury, where’s your agent?” He asked worriedly.
“Don’t bother Cap, she’s long gone.” Natasha said coldly into the comms.
Natasha was right. All that was left of the woman was the trail of bodies she’d left behind, but her help had allowed Natasha and Clint to retrieve the virus, and The Avengers managed to leave the scene with no casualties and having completed their objective.
It wasn’t until they were back on the Quinjet and Natasha had carefully sealed the vial containing the virus in a container that he asked.
“Who was that?”
“Seconded.” Tony added.
“Thirded, and is she single.” Sam put in.
Natasha and Clint exchanged an unreadable look with each other before Clint answered.
“An old friend of Fury’s. Someone we never expected to see again.” He said tersely.
“Shield Agent?” Sam asked.
“No way, she’s too messy to be a shield agent. Effective, cool, but messy.” Tony argued.
“She was an Agent actually. Agent 12 – The Gunslinger.” Clint sighed, sounding exhausted.
“There was a rule in Shield. Never send in The Gunslinger unless the situations already gone south. She’s a ‘break glass in case of emergency’ kind of agent. Or she was.” Natasha elaborated.
“What is she now?” Steve asked.
“A fucking corpse is what she’s supposed to be. We thought she went down with The Triskelion, found her body and everything, even fooled me and Nat.” Clint sighed.
Steve tilted his head at Natasha questioningly and she shrugged like it was no big deal, but there was a flicker of darkness in her eyes that betrayed her nonchalant attitude.
“Ok, so why the Gunslinger? Not that it isn’t a cool name, but why?” Sam asked.
“Because every mission she did was like the Wild West. She wasn’t refined or precise, but she was damn good at fucking shit up. Give that woman a gun and a single day, and she’d create enough anarchy to bring down a small country.” Clint snorted.
“And she’s a crack shot. She is with a gun what Clint is with a bow and arrow.” Natasha added.
“I visit her grave once a year and pour a bottle of Jack on it. Nice to know it was for nothing.” Clint said coldly.
“She was never the same after Mexico, we should have seen this coming.” Natasha said softly.
“What happened in Mexico?” Steve asked sharply.
“Something bad. Bad enough that Shield burned every file related to the case, they didn’t just bury them. She went alone and came back with a closet full of ghosts, wouldn’t talk about it.” Clint sighed.
“Is that why I never crossed paths with her?” Steve wondered.
Natasha and Clint shared a semi-amused look.
“AIM warehouse in the Alps?” Natasha prompted.
“We got the prisoners out and you called in an air-strike to dispose of the base.” Steve checked.
“That’s the one.” Clint confirmed.
“You told command to go for the nuclear option.” Steve remembered.
Realization dawned on him.
“It wasn’t an airstrike, was it?” He sighed.
Natasha and Clint shook their heads in unison.
“Remember the day someone set of a smoke bomb in Fury’s office and the fire alarms went off?” Clint sniggered.
“That was her?” Steve gaped.
“Hill wouldn’t sign off on some new equipment for her, so she decided to show Maria that not giving her the stuff would be more costly than just getting it. Fury gave her the weapons and stuck her on Arctic duty for three months.” Clint said, the admiration shining in his voice.
“I think Fury and Hill went out of their way to make sure you two never actually met, I think they were worried about what would happen when chaotic good met chaotic neutral.” Natasha shrugged.
“Meaning you’re a reckless dumbass cap, and sounds like she was as well.” Sam snorted.
“So she’s not dead, and Fury pulled her in to help us with this mission. Why now?” Steve asked, studiously ignoring Sam.
“Maybe he thought it was time. That she was ready to come back.” Clint suggested.
“Can’t say he was wrong. Girl kicked ass.” Sam pointed out.
“I’m more concerned with when and if we’ll be seeing her again.” Steve said.
“I hope so.” Sam muttered quietly.
“She left without saying hello, never mind goodbye. I don’t think we’ll be seeing her again.” Clint shrugged, keeping his expression purposefully blank.
Steve noticed how Natasha purposefully kept quiet.
~~~That Evening~~~
You were somehow both surprised and unsurprised to find your old apartment in the City exactly as you had left it. Albeit, a bit more dusty, but everything was still in the same place. The only people who knew about it were Fury, and Natasha. The former would have only found out about it after you ‘died’ because you’d left it to her in your will. The system still accepted your retinal scan and let you in, so perhaps Natasha hadn’t even come here.
You wondered if Clint had ever used the Cabin in the Canadian Rockies he’d been bequeathed.
You didn’t have a lot to put in a will, except safehouses and offshore accounts. Nothing personal, but that was the life of a secret agent. And you didn’t have anyone to leave anything to, except your fellow Agents.
You’d had dalliances with firefights and violence since your ‘retirement’, but nothing like the adrenaline fuelled battle you’d been in today. It was strange, how easily you slipped back into the skin of The Gunslinger. You were still thrumming with it, hours later. Or maybe it was anticipation that was making your skin vibrate.
You’d showered and cleared away the dust and cobwebs of your old home, now all that was left to do was to wait. She would come, she had to. You had a lot to answer for and Natasha wasn’t one to let someone off the hook.
You were right, she did come for you. She was in the room and only a few feet away before she made her presence known, allowing her reflection to be caught in the window you were staring out of.
“Long time no see, Red.” You smirked.
She said nothing as you turned to face her, your body tense, your muscles tight.
“Looking a little on edge there, fight or flight instinct kicking in?” She asked idly, looking you over.
“Fight or something else beginning with F…” You whispered breathily into the empty space between you.
There was a slight twitch on her lips, so minute that you wouldn’t have picked up on it if you didn’t know her. But you did know her, you knew her better than you knew almost anybody else. You crossed the space left between you both until you were dangerously close to her, so close your breath moved her hair when you spoke.
“Is this the part where you kill me?” You asked cheekily.
“Kill, or something else beginning with K…” She shot back.
“Tease.” You smirked.
“What makes you think I’m only teasing?”
“We don’t blur those lines, never have and never will.”
“You obliterated a lot of lines when you left a dead body for me to find and let me bury it in your grave.” She said, her voice soft but her tone hard.
“Did you miss me Red? Did you mourn me? Did you shed a tear for me when nobody was looking?” You asked.
Your words sounded cruel, vicious even, but you knew she wouldn’t read them that way. The question was genuine. Had Natasha Romanoff really cried for you?
“I was waiting for you that day, waiting to hear your voice over the comms, waiting for a well placed bullet to save my ass. I kept waiting, kept looking, but you never showed up. Shield fell that day and I thought you fell with it, and yes, I mourned. I forgave you for not showing up because I thought you’d died fighting off Hydra, but the truth was you just used the chaos to serve your own purpose, not caring who you left behind.” She admonished, her words cutting you to the bone.
You had no defence, because that’s exactly what had happened. You had jumped into action as soon as Captain America’s voice had sounded the call to arms, and you had spilt Hydra blood. And then you had left a dead traitor who looked enough like you in your place, burned the room and switched your dental records with hers before you disappeared.
“I saw a way out, and I took it. I needed to escape it all Red, I needed to get away, with no ties, because if anyone knew I was alive I knew I’d be dragged back into the thick of it.” You told her unapologetically.
“I know.”
There was no anger in her eyes, no pity, just a deep, tired understanding.
“Fury knew, even I can’t fool him apparently, and he knew all the right buttons to push to drag me back. So now what?” You asked, a hint of challenge in your voice.
“Have you come back to life, or is this just a brief haunting?”
“I had it good Red, carved out a life for myself off the map and actually lived it. It wasn’t perfect, but it was mine.” You told her.
“But?” She asked.
“The demons came with me, couldn’t outrun the fuckers. No matter what I do, they’ll always be the weight on my shoulders, the screaming in my head, the darkness in my heart.”
“A wise idiot once told me that we walk through hell so the world doesn’t burn in it. The more demons you have, the less there are out there in the world. It’s the only comfort we have.” Natasha reminded you.
“I told you that…” You dead-panned.
“Like I said, a wise idiot.” She smirked.
“You haven’t told me you missed me.” You pointed out.
“You’re the more emotional one, you tell me you missed me.” She ordered.
You took her in, your gaze drinking in her beauty. She was every bit as stunning as you remembered, like a deadly dream. You unconsciously leant in closer.
“I missed you every damn day Red, more than you could ever know.” You whispered throatily.
She moved closer still, until you were practically pressed together, and she breathed out two words that sent your heart into overdrive.
“Show me.”
There was barely a millimetre between your lips, all you had to was breath in and she would be yours. You held your breath.
It had been a long few years away from her. You were like a parched woman in the desert, and she the oasis that could heal you. The lust that was threatening to overwhelm you had always been there between you, but never acted on. It wasn’t love, so it wasn’t worth risking your friendship over. But you had destroyed what you had already, and there were no lines left to cross except this one. Kissing Natasha right now could be the final nail in the coffin, or it could be the bridge that gave you a way home. It was destruction or it was destiny, and you didn’t know which.
You didn’t care. In this moment, this dreamlike moment, she could be yours. What came after could wait.
You cradled the back of her head in your palm, her hair soft against your fingers, and you pulled her those last few millimetres to you and sealed your fate with the kiss you had always dreamt of.
You had kissed these lips before, but it had never been Natasha returning the kiss, it had been whoever she was playing the part of for the mission. None of those women kissed like Natasha did, with a vicious, almost violent passion.
It was like an instantaneous hit of a drug, the softness of her lips, the sweetness of her taste. You brain clouded over and let your body take the reins, and your body knew what it wanted.
It wanted more, it wanted all of her. It wanted to dominate and be dominated, it wanted to be utterly consumed by her and wrapped around her, tangled with hers. Your fingers tangled in her hair as your other hand found the small of her back and you spun her around and pushed her against the wall, pressing your body against hers. One of her hands squeezed your hips, the other sliding across your neck as her fingers pressed into your skin.
“You gotta tell me if you really want this, love. You have to tell me.” You whined breathlessly against her lips.
Her fingers tightened on your throat and she pulled her head away just enough to stare you down.
“You have my consent. Do I have yours?” She said firmly.
“Absolutely Red.” You said without hesitation.
Her lips slammed back onto yours, her teeth nipping harshly at your bottom lip before she slowly dragged her tongue over the ache, soothing it away.
You grabbed the back of her thighs and easily lifted her up, settling her down on the nearest surface. She immediately pulled you in with her thighs, squeezing your hips between them to the point of almost pain. Her hands were under your shirt, her nails dragging across your back and sending shivers through you.
You pushed her down with your body until she way lying flat on the table you’d placed her upon and you kissed her until your lungs burned with the lack of oxygen, while your hands traced down her legs and blindly unlaced her boots, pulling them off. She tugged at the hem of your shirt and you pulled away, gasping for breath, to let her yank your shirt over your head while you fumbled to pull your own shoes off.
It was in the moment that you looked down to pull your boot off that she struck. A sharp pinch in the back of your neck that let you know you’d been played.
“Evil.” You hissed, vision already going blurry.
“Knew it was the only way to distract you enough to drug you. They don’t call me the Black Widow for nothing.” She said unapologetically, sliding off the table and catching you before you hit the ground.
The distinctive red of her hair was the last thing you saw before you were dragged under, into darkness.
When you woke, it was to a flickering yellow light.
A string of muffled curses flew from your lips as you stumbled groggily to your feet, trying to take in your surroundings. You were in a small musty room with a bed, a small table and a chair. There was a window on the far side of the room that the light that had woken you was flickering through, partially obstructed by the plastic blinds. You pulled yourself over to it and carefully peered out of the blinds and into a dark parking lot. The light was coming from a sign that said ‘River Valley Motel’.
Natasha had seduced you, knocked you out and kidnapped you so she could bring you to… a motel?
You stumbled back over to the bed, and kicked something on the floor, nearly tripping over it. It was a black rucksack that you picked up and unzipped as you plopped yourself back down on the lumpy mattress.
“What the?” You muttered as you rummaged through the contents.
There was several thousand dollars at least, in rolled up bills, two handguns with spare ammo, several knives, and a passport. You opened the passport and three pieces of paper fell out. You picked up the one that had your name written on it and unfolded it.
Fury won’t find you this time.
That one sentence said it all. She’d kidnapped you so Fury couldn’t track you. You’d wanted out, and whether or not she agreed with it, she wanted you to have your way. Nobody would be able to drag you back into the thick of it this time, not with Natasha covering your tracks. But as much as this was a gift, it was also a choice.
Because there were two tickets in the bag. One for a flight to France, where you would start a new life under the identity she had provided for you, and one for a train back to New York, where The Gunslinger would be resurrected.
If you came back this time, it would be your choice and nobody else’s. She was giving you freedom, either way. She didn’t have to drug and kidnap you to do it, but you supposed you deserved it.
The question now was, what life were you going to choose? The old one, or the new one?
You slipped one of the tickets into your pocket, and tore the other one up.