The Black Hawk

Ch. 4

      Fury's POV

      After talking to Agent Hill, my mind wanders back to Bartons kid. She looks familiar, like I've seen her before. "Ah, What the heck. I'll do it anyway," I say to myself. I walk to my office and pull up Barton's file and find the kid's file from his.

Name: Elizabeth Natasha Barton
Age: 14
Height: 5"6
Father: Clinton Barton
Mother: Unknown
Born: Sept. 15, 2004
Birthplace: Out of country
Languages: English, Russian, German, French
Other: None

      Wow. Thin file. I haven't seen one this thin since Romanoff. That was years ago. At least she will be a good agent in other countries. I'm still curious, though. Why does she sound so much like Romanoff? It's like everything leads back to her.  I'm going to see her.

      Natasha's POV

      I'm sitting in my room looking at baby pictures of Eliza when a knock is heard on my door. "Come in," I say, putting the album under my pillow.

      "Agent Romanoff." Director Fury walks in.

      "Sir," I say, standing up. Oh no. He has that look on his face. "Is everything alright, sir?" I ask.

      "Sit down, Natasha." I nod and sit back down. "I came here to ask you something."

      "Yes?" I ask, waiting for that one question I'm sure he's going to ask.

      "I know it's not likely one bit, but, have you and Agent Barton had romantic desires towards each other?" I feel my face heat up, no doubt looking like a cherry tomato.

      "Yes, sir," I answer calmly.

      "When you took a year off, did you have a child in that time?" He asks. I feel my pulse start to race.

      "That's impossible. Why do you ask?" He frowns at me and looks at my pillow. I lay across my bed to distract him.

      "Clint's daughter's middle name is Natasha. Her first name is Elizabeth. She was born out of country and every time you talk about if you were able to have a daughter you would name her Elizabeth." I close my eyes and take a deep breath. "Now, don't make me ask again, is she your's and Clint's child?" I nod, keeping my eyes closed.

      I sit up, finally getting the courage to look at him. He's just standing there like usual but I can see something behind his eyes. Something different, like anger and pride and other emotions all in one. "Are you going to say something, sir?" I ask. He shakes his head and walks out of the room, no doubt looking for Clint or our daughter.