Blending In Was Never Easy For Anyone (Young Clintasha Short Story)

CHAPTER 1: Subject-Mission

Hello everyone! This story is an Avengers Fanfic featuring Natasha and Clint in their middle school days. I do not own any of the Marvel characters, but the story is purely mine! Please vote, comment, and share the story. Tell me what you think! :D

Also, I would like to give a huge shoutout to @Chergarland for making the beautiful cover for this book! Thank you!!!

I hope you all enjoy! :D <3

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"This is crap." Natasha said, crossing her arms and pursing her lips. She didn't want to go. She shouldn't have to. This mission was meant for a rookie, not someone who had been in the field, who had shot down enemies, fought hand-to-hand. She had been in this business for almost 10 years now. Almost.

"Are you telling me that you are refusing my orders?" A man spoke, irritated, his heavy Russian accent reverberating around the small room, making Natasha's ears ring. "I was not asking your opinion on if you wanted the job or not." He was shrouded in the shadows behind a large, ornate oak desk. There was not a single speck of dust on the its surface, and even though it was large, it had on it no more than a computer and key board and a small stack of papers and Manila envelopes.

Natasha had never actually seen her boss, as he always kept himself concealed in the dark. She could tell he was tall, white, and slender. Beyond that, she could only guess. His voice was not one you took lightly. It was deep, smooth, and terrifying. And at the moment, it was border-line pissed.

This was a man who wouldn't hesitate to spill your blood for making him angry. And he would make sure that not a drop of blood would get on him. He was no fool, no amateur. He was a professional. A professional in a ruthless, deadly business.

Natasha was told to call him 'The Master'.

She dropped her arms, sticking them straight at her side, standing a little taller. "No, Master. I just feel that I am over-qualified for the task." She said. Her voice grew small, but she made sure to articulate in perfect English.

She heard The Master chuckle roughly, mocking her. "You are the only one qualified for the task, my dear. And you should see to it that you succeed. Or you know very well what will happen." The sound of a chair leaning back filled the dark room. She could almost hear him smirk as she squirmed slightly where she stood.

She knew exactly what would happen.

She'd lose her right to life.

"I understand, Master. What is it that I must do?" Natasha tried to keep her voice steady, not wanting to make him angry or think that she was wimping out. This was not only her job, it was her way of life. She chose it, so now she must deal with it. There was no going back.

"There is a group planted within an American school. They are known as The Takers. Their main focus is to recruit young girls, and to turn them into insane, a modernized version of vampires, if you will. The only recruit those who they deem worthy of their cult. Those who wish to join, but are not accepted are simply erased." He took a deep breath, and then sighed the air out. "You must find them and stop them."

Natasha tilted her head, confused. "Isn't stopping them better suited to someone else? As in another organization?" She knew she did not work for a man who did things for the good of others.

"The leader, whoever they may be, is trying to work against me. They've slowly appeared on my radar. They want to steal our weapons and our bioweapons. They are a small group, but they are trying to expand. The typical 'I want to take over the world' type. They have reached their greedy fingers into our system and been successful in small ways. But no more. They must be eradicated. No one tries to get above me." The Master stumbled on a few of his words, his anger making his Russian come out more. Natasha stood still until he was done.

"So, you want me to eliminate them?" She asked him, swallowing.

"No. No, I want you to stop them. All they need is to be exposed, the pathetic police can take care of the rest. No need to get your hands that dirty. You did enough of that on your last mission. And splendly too, I might add." The chair squeaked again as The Master sat back up. "Think you could do that?" He asked.

She could feel The Master's gaze on her, but could not actually see his eyes. She felt that they were burning two small holes in her forehead. She slowed her breathing, so that she could decrease her heart rate. She remembered her last mission, every single second of it. How many people had died at her hand? She didn't care if they had been guilty, or the enemies, or whatever. They were still people. And those people were haunting her. She closed her eyes, trying to keep calm, to show that she could handle this job. She couldn't mess this up, not this meeting, not this mission, not her entire life in general.

12 years old, and her existence depended on her ability to oust a mysterious cult from a school she didn't even want to step into. Going to school meant trying to be normal. She had always dreamed of being normal, but she knew it was impossible. There was no escaping the life she had entered. No way out. None. She was forever stuck in this life of thievery, treachery, death, and destruction. And she hadn't even finished puberty. She shook her head at the crap-shoot she had been given.

She turned her attention back to her boss. "Of course, Master." She bowed her head gently. "When do I leave? And how much time do I have?" Natasha asked, tilting her chin up, ever so slightly, to make herself appear more confident.

"Tonight." The Master's pale hand stretched out, setting a plain white coffee cup down on the desk in front of him. Natasha hadn't even realised he had been drinking it. His face remained in the dark shadows. "The school year has just barely begun. The cult is lying low, so you have time. I will give you until the end of the school year, should you need it. Let's hope not. If you have not succeeded in your task by then, I will send someone else." The Master tapped his fingers lightly together, pointer finger to pinky, pair by pair, his elbows resting on the arms of his cushioned desk chair.

If she did not succeed, then someone would be sent to assassinate her and then finish the job she had not been able to.

She tilted her head in understanding, her long red hair falling in her face. She turned to leave, her hands locked behind her back. The moment her fingertips touched the door handle, she heard the Master cough to get her attention. "Natasha," she didn't turn around. She just wanted to go, to get away from this man as soon as possible. "If you succeed, and I hope you do, you will be paid handsomely." He said, his voice soft.

"Thank you, Master." Then she thrust open the door, escaping into the hallway. She walked briskly down the dim corridor, and let out a deep breath she hadn't realised she had been holding when she heard the door shut behind her.

She needed to pack.

She was going to middle school.

She prayed someone would help her before she lost her mind.