Venomous

21. Preparations

"Fucking shit!" I woke up suddenly to the sensation of my bed bouncing up and down. Natasha was perched on the edge, a wide grin on her face.

"Good morning to you too, sunshine." She smirked. I glared at her for a moment before remembering all of the vodka from the night before.

We are going to puke.

"We are going to puke." I fell back down onto my back, covering my eyes with my arm, trying to will away the annoying ex-assassin on the foot of my bed. Natasha stood up, making a residual bouncing motion that almost made me gag before pulling the blankets off of me in one swift motion. "Hey!"

"Up and at 'em, Brock. It's training time." I sat up slightly, leaning on my elbows.

"The morning after a party?" Natasha smirked.

"It's nine o'clock. You slept long enough." I raised my eyebrows at her.

"It's too fucking early for this," I grumbled. Natasha marched past my bed towards my bathroom, not bothering to turn on the light. "What are you doing?" I didn't get an answer, so I flopped back down on my bed rubbing my eyes. That was a mistake. The next thing I knew, I was soaking wet and freezing cold, and Natasha could not stop laughing. "Oh, you're fucking dead." I was out of bed faster than I think I had moved in...well...hours, tackling her to the ground. She laughed and rolled away, crouching just out of my reach.

"Too slow, Brock." I hissed at her and winked playfully. I looked up when I heard a cough from the doorway.

"Didn't she want to get up?" Wanda smirked wryly. I laughed.

"Natasha doesn't do subtle, apparently."

"Yeah, and Brock doesn't do mornings." Wanda smirked, walking into the room and pecking me quickly on the cheek.

"Don't worry. She only got to splash me once." I grinned and gave Wanda an evil smile. "No, don't you dare," she warned, backing away slowly. Unfortunately for her, my reflexes were faster. I grabbed her and pulled her into a soaking wet hug. She squirmed the entire time, and I caught Natasha laughing over my shoulder. I glanced at Wanda and we nodded before moving in unison and pushing Natasha into the bathroom and dumping a handful of water over her head.

"I can't leave you three alone for a minute," a snarky voice sounded from the doorway, where Tony stood eating a bag of blueberries. I rolled my eyes.

"You're one to talk, Stark. Weren't you singing into a whiskey bottle and dancing while half in your tin can just last night?" He rolled his eyes, waving his hand away like I hadn't been speaking.

"Anyway, we're ramping up the training. We've got some orders coming in." That caught all of our attention.

"What's going on?" Natasha spoke first, stealing my towel from the rack and – of course – beginning to dry her hair. Tony shrugged, leaning casually against the door frame.

"Not sure, but we may need a hacker. And a martial artist." He glanced between the two of us expectantly.

"What about me?" Wanda asked. Tony smirked.

"We're going to need you outside."

...

Three hours later, I stumbled back to my room, feeling as though I was barely able to walk. When Avengers talk about ramping up training, they aren't kidding. I was used to some grueling workouts, but this took the cake. How they expected anyone to do a mission after all that was beyond me. Just as I was contemplating how much energy it would take for me to sit down on my bed, knowing that at some point I would have to get back up, I glanced up in shock as Natasha bounced through the doorway, smiling cheerfully. I blinked at her in shock. What the actual hell?

"If you being a badass spy Avenger means that you're always this annoying, I'm actually glad you didn't tell me now." I snarked. Much to my dismay, the smile on her face widened as her dimples began to show.

"Hardly my fault if you couldn't keep up," She teased. The fuck?

"You're just still pissy that you can't beat me in a fight." She laughed, folding her arms across her chest.

"Who says I can't?" I huffed at her.

"Every time we've ever fought?" Her smile was infuriating. After all of this time, she still knew how to push my buttons whether we were really fighting or, like now, just for fun. I have to admit that fighting with Natasha Romanoff or Natalie Rushman, or Natalia Whoeverthefuck, whether verbal or physical, was exhilarating. There was really nothing like it, and nothing could explain it adequately. She was world class, top of her game, give back whatever she got. And I was NOT going to think about that anymore.

"Isn't that what a master spy would want you to think?" She tilted her head to the side playfully. When Wanda did it, it was terrifying. When Natasha did it, it was..not. I scoffed at her and opened my mouth to snark at her before really thinking about what she had said. Wait. Was it? I frowned. "Don't think too hard, Brock, I can literally see smoke coming out of your ears." I wanted to punch her in the face, but I didn't have the energy for that. I opted for finally sitting down instead. Natasha watched me get settled, a smirk on her face. "By the way, Stark wants us in the conference room." I blinked up at her, gaping as she offered me her hand to help me stand back up.

"You're fucking kidding me," I groaned. I flopped backwards onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. "At least can I take a shower?" I blinked and sat up rapidly as I heard footsteps moving towards the bathroom.

"You want a shower?" Natasha's voice called. I heard the sink being turned on.

"Nope, I take it back, I'm good. I'm up." I got to my feet faster than I thought possible as she stood in the doorway of the bathroom, a cup of water in her hand, and an innocent smile on her face.

"You sure?" I rolled my eyes.

"After you, Romanoff."

"Whatever you say, Parker." I refused to allow myself to look at her as she walked away.