ᴀ ʏᴇᴀʀ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ - ᴘᴇʀᴄʏ ᴊᴀᴄᴋꜱᴏɴ x ᴍᴀʀᴠᴇʟ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱᴏᴠᴇʀ

[IX] N I N E

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"Tag, You're It"
By Melanie Martinez

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Natasha was so done. 

So very done. 

Grabbing her backpack from the carpeted Limo floor, Natasha shouldered it and shut the vehicle door with a slam. She wavered by the glass and sighed whilst gazing at her reflection. 

No change.

She'd undergone yet another gruelling day of Highschool, and was quite aware that her appearance had not magically changed. Yet, she consistently found herself glancing at every reflective surface in the hope that she would have transformed back into her former adult glory. 

Natasha tore her eyes from the glass. It was wistful thinking, really. Childish thinking. Such thoughts would not get their mission completed any faster. She really should begin to focus more on the task at hand, rather than wasting time thinking like a kid. 

"Does anyone have their keys on standby?" Bruce asked, dropping his bag to use both hands to rummage through his blazer pockets. 

"I've got mine." She said, starting towards the front door. 

Wrestling with her keys, Natasha shoved her key into the lock. She twisted it clockwise with practised movements but paused. 

The key hardly rotated once before coming to an abrupt halt within the keyhole. 

"What are you waiting for?" Said Steve behind her, peeking over the shoulder, "What's the hold-up?"

Natasha pulled the key out slowly and tried the door handle. 

Just as she suspected. 

"The door..." She said, stepping back, "Is open already." 

She took two long strides forwards and forcibly kicked their front door open-

It flew backwards with a crash, the doorknob colliding harshly with the wall behind. The whole house seemed to rattle with the might of the kick, and it was a wonder that the door even remained on its hinges. 

"Don't take your anger out on the door, Nat," Tony mockingly warned as he followed her over the threshold, "It hasn't done anything wrong, poor thing."

Although he was making a jest of it, she could see the seriousness in Tony's gaze clear as day.

"The intruders were hurried," Natasha said, completely ignoring Tony's poor attempt at humour, "Didn't even bother locking the door. Meaning-"

Clint thrust his way to the front, and began cruising down the wooden hallway. "-They're probably still here." He finished. 

"Backdoor?" Natasha called after him. 

Clint glanced behind him and smiled as if they weren't about to play hide-and-seek with some burglars. "As usual." 

"We'll check upstairs," Said Bruce, dropping his backpack. He clutched the hem of Tony's sleeve and began moving toward the staircase.

Steve cut in. "I'll do the basement." 

Thor thundered toward the kitchen, whilst grumbling something incoherent about protecting their food supply. 

She herself would do a quick sweep of the ground floor - starting with the livingroom.