The Raven and the Hawk (My MCU #1)

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The testing was finished in no time at all and Raven given official agent status. She smiled at Fury as he made the announcement. "In that case I suppose it's time to show all of you what I can truly do."

The other four shared a confused look between them before Fury gestured with one hand toward the rest of the room. "By all means, Sterling. Show us."

"I need loose objects. Anything I can throw." Fury and Coulson dug through their pockets as the other two agents were in uniform with nothing extra on them. Fury came up with nothing, but Coulson handed her a ball point pen and a handful of change. She nodded in thanks and moved over to the target shooting area. After laying the objects out in front of her, she removed one of the extra clips from her belt and slid several bullets out to add to the line.

Everyone came over to stand behind her so they could see what she was doing. "I'm a good shot. Always have been. But even the best marksman with the best weapon has limitations. I'm...something different."

She stretched her hands over the objects laying before her and fed her magic into them, smiling as she watched them glow. No one else could see the golden sheen now bathing all the objects but they didn't need to. She picked up the pen and wiggled it between her fingers. "Pick a target, Agent Coulson."

"Excuse me?"

She looked over her shoulder and smiled at him. "A target, Coulson."

His eyes scanned over the paper targets at the far end of the range. "The third one from the left." He crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels.

Turning back to the targets, she pictured her ultimate goal in her head. Pictured the pen piercing the middle of the target. She flicked the pen out of her fingers with little effort and watched it fly to the other end of the room. She picked up the bullets one by one and flung them toward the target as well. Finally, she nodded. "Agent Barton, if you don't mind."

He frowned but stepped forward and used the switch to bring the target toward them. She stepped back to allow the others a better view. There was a clear hole in the center of the target surrounded by a circle of several other holes where the bullets had penetrated.

"That's some impressive shit there, Sterling. Mind sharing with the class how you accomplished that?" Fury stared her down with his one dark eye.

"I have one very specific ability. I can send projectiles wherever I wish them to go. That's why I never miss." She picked up a handful of change and tossed one coin at a time through the center of each target. "Guns are fast and reliable. I can usually get them to accomplish what I need them to without using my ability."

They all stared at her without saying anything, obviously trying to process what she just revealed to them. She smiled, trying to break the tension. "It also means if I run out of bullets, I can just throw rocks at the bad guys. And be fairly effective doing it."

"So, you're a mutant," Barton said, sounding smug.

It's what she was. She knew that but the word brought back too many painful memories. Simon taunting and sneering at her while he tormented and tortured her. Realizing she'd been silent for too long, she cleared her throat. "Well, now you know. If you'll excuse me." With that she left the room.

***

"Ow." Clint's head shot forward from Natasha smacking the back of it. "What the hell?"

"Nice going, Barton." Natasha scowled at him with her arms crossed over her chest.

"What did I do?"

Coulson cleared his throat. "I believe Agent Romanoff is attempting to convey her displeasure at the fact you called Agent Sterling a mutant."

Clint shrugged. "That's obviously what she is. I don't understand what the big deal is."

"It was also obvious she doesn't share that with many people, Barton. You made her uncomfortable," Natasha chastised.

He sighed. The last thing he wanted to be doing right now was getting a lecture from his best friend about how he treated the rookie. "So you want me to go apologize or what?"

"Don't bother, Barton," Fury chimed in. "She's a smart woman. She'll know you don't mean it."

***

Clint grumbled to himself as he sat picking at his dinner. Natasha had continued to give him shit for the rest of the day and quite frankly he was over it. And he didn't really understand it. It wasn't as if Sterling and Natasha were best friends or anything. There was no reason for Nat to get so upset over a supposed slight to some woman she barely knew.

A tray dropped on the table across from his and Clint glanced up surprised to find Sterling taking the seat opposite him. "Hello, Barton."

"Sterling."

She took a bite of her salad as she looked at him and he pretended his attention was focused elsewhere. "Today wasn't about you," she said finally, breaking the silence.

He frowned. "What?"

"Coulson said Natasha was giving you a hard time about the mutant thing. That's on me, my issues. I told her that." She didn't look at him again as she continued to eat.

"I appreciate that," he said after a moment. Maybe it was time to share some of his own issues. "I was supposed to get married that day."

Her head shot up showing her furrowed brow. "What?"

He gave her a half smile. "The day you shot me. I was getting married that afternoon."

She studied him with her odd colored eyes.

"I missed the wedding. When Laura found out why, she left me."

That made her frown. "Your fiancée left you because you were shot?"

He pursed his lips. "My fiancée left me because she realized that my job was dangerous and there was no guarantee I'd be coming home unscathed every night."

"Was your fiancée a stupid woman, Barton?"

"Not particularly so, no."

"Then it was an excuse."

He arched a brow in question but didn't say anything.

Sterling pushed her half-eaten food away. "There are no guarantees in this life, Agent. Florists get shot and killed on their way home and agents for shady government agencies make it to retirement age every damn day. That's the way of the world."

"So she should have just ignored the fact that I got shot and missed our wedding because of my job?"

Her eyes locked onto his. "No. She should have come to the hospital, been there when you woke up and had the chaplain marry you. I realize that there's a part of you that resents me for the fact you aren't married with a couple of mini-archers running around right now, but maybe that blame needs to be laid elsewhere."

He didn't look at her as he processed her words. The truth was she'd been a convenient target for his anger even before he knew who precisely had been responsible for the shooting. And maybe she had a point when she suggested that anger had been misdirected.

She stood and grabbed her barely touched tray of food. "Have a good evening, Agent Barton."