not how it's supposed to go

i know someday i'm gonna meet her (it's a fever dream)

nat nat nat nat nat

"Was there a point in following me?"

Natalia sat back on the couch, smirk on her lips as she turned off the TV.

"How did you find out where I live?" the man narrowed his eyes at her, one hand on his weapon that he had sheathed behind his back.

"This isn't where you live," Natalia scoffed, standing up from the couch and adjusting her now slightly rumpled outfit, "Anyway... you have a wife, so why are you chasing another woman? Your wife's credentials... I wouldn't cheat on her."

"If you know everything else, shouldn't you know why I'm following you?" he asked carefully, watching her closely.

Natalia shrugged, showing herself off a little bit more in hopes of getting this information and getting out, "Maybe I do know, Agent Barton. I'd like to hear it from you, though."

Agent Barton - who she really knew went by Clint - looked away for a second before waving his hand at her, "Stop doing that. You're like, twelve. What are you doing all this shit for at your age, anyway?"

"You still haven't answered my question, Agent," Natalia's hand slowly moved to her weapon, done with this conversation. This man was making things more difficult than they needed to be.

"I was sent to kill you," he said, still giving her that look. Natalia hadn't seen it before, it puzzled her, and she didn't like being puzzled.

Natalia took it as hesitation and immediately put her hands behind her head, "Do it, then."

He shook his head, scoffing, "Put your hands down. You're too young to be doing this."

Natalia smirked, "You're not scared that I'll kill you if you let me put my hands down?"

"If you wanted me dead, I'd be dead already," he replied, setting his weapon down and walking into the kitchen. Natalia was admittedly a little confused, not sure as to why he would make himself so vulnerable. Her intel told her that this man has a kid and another coming, why open himself up like this?

He emerged with a water bottle in hand, taking a sip from it, "Do you want anything to eat? Drink?"

Natalia tightened her jaw, revealing her gun and holding it up, "I have an assignment."

"I'm open," Clint opened his arms, fixing her with a daring look, "Whenever you're ready."

Natalia rested her finger on the trigger, not sure why she was waiting. Something about all of this felt so wrong.

"Do you enjoy this work?" He asked, moving a little closer. He put the water bottle down on the table next to the couch, giving her a look she could read this time; scolding father.

(So her intel must've not been too far off. Good to know.)

"It's not about what I enjoy, Agent Barton," she responded, hand shaking ever so slightly from holding her gun up for so long.

"You're a kid," he stated, so close now that she could hit him with the gun instead of shoot it and have the same effect. "When did you make this decision?"

I didn't, I didn't make this, this life was chosen for me, her mind begged her to respond, but instead, she straightened her posture and pressed the gun to his forehead, finger falling off of the trigger. Shooting him wouldn't have been as rewarding as beating the shit out of him.

She heard footsteps behind her and whipped around, another person was now behind her. She barely got enough time to react before she felt the pain of a taser hitting her back and she stumbled.