Broken Glass | Natasha Romanoff

dc; not a state.

The flight down to Washington had been about 5 hours long. Despite her hopes, Lin hadn't managed to sleep even once. She couldn't escape the memories haunting her; no matter how hard she tried, the steely grey gaze she kept trying to forget found its way back into her mind.

It had been a huge pain to wave down a taxi, and now Lin was wishing she'd just walked to her new apartment.

"Is there another route we can take?" Lin questioned her taxi driver as they inched down the street, rubbing her eyes sleepily. Staying awake for more than three days was not a fun time, she didn't know how she managed to keep forgetting that.

They'd been stuck in traffic for the past hour; there'd been a bad car accident or something on the road earlier that day, and things still hand't been cleared up. The taxi driver shook her head and turned to look at Lin in the passenger seat with a sigh. "The accident is just up ahead," she said. "We'll pass it in a few minutes, so there's no point in taking a different route now." It was Lin's turn to sigh. She rested her head against the window, watching the pedestrians pass her and missing her own car back in San Francisco.

~ ~ ~

After what felt like forever, Lin walked out of the cab and into the well-kept apartment building that would be her temporary home for the entirety of her stay.

There was a functional elevator, carpeted floors, and, well, everything that her San Francisco home didn't have, including a doorman. The walls were painted a clean beige that reminded her of Chomiki's office and she shivered; there was something off about him.

"Hello, M'am. Can I help you?" The doorman was dressed in a neatly pressed suit which proved that the apartment building was a quality one. But even as Lin took it all in, the thing that impressed her most was the elevator. She couldn't imagine having one that worked, especially one that she got to use daily. She almost laughed aloud at herself but stopped as she met the doorman's eyes.

Lin smiled at him quickly. "I'm Olive Weldon, a new tenant." The doorman stared at her for a long moment, in which Lin continued to smile pleasantly at him. He was quite cute, if she was being honest with herself. After a couple more long seconds, he nodded. "I'm Robin, your doorman. If you have any questions or concerns, you're always welcome to run them by me."

He finally returned her smile and pulled a minuscule folder out of his pocket. "In here is your room key and WiFi password. If you need anything, you're welcome to call me." He handed her the folder and gestured to the elevator. "You're on floor two, room 7" he said.

Lin walked towards the elevator and pressed the up button. A ding sounded right away and she jumped as the elevator doors slid open.

A startled expression crossed her face for just a second before she settled it back into her habitual blank one as a blond-haired, blue-eyed man strode out into the lobby, barely giving her a passing glance. He was fairly muscular and there was something oddly familiar about him, in the way he walked and in the shape of his face. A feeling of recognition washed over her, but she shook it away as the elevator's doors began to close.

She slid inside just as the doors slid shut. She couldn't help but smile. Her apartment had a working elevator! She grinned wider as classical music played in the background while the elevator beeped in response.

The doors slid open smoothly and Lin walked into the hallway, glancing at the doors she passed. The door of number seven was identical to the doors on either side of it, except the number was slightly crooked.

She pulled the key out from the small folder and wiggled it into the lock. She turned it and pushed the door open; she couldn't help but miss the security of the locks on her other apartment, but having eight locks here would be considered odd, and she didn't want to draw any extra attention to herself.

Lin stepped through the doorway and admired her apartment. It was honestly a lot better than anything she'd been expecting; it was well-furnished and had a couple of large windows that looked out over the city's skyline with the river visible in the distance. There was a door leading to the bathroom and another leading to a small bedroom. It was definitely an improvement from her apartment back in San Francisco, with its peeling wallpaper and barred windows.

She sat down on the small sofa next to the windows and closed her eyes. For once, she thought, I want to travel somewhere new just for the sake of it, not for a job. But that was wishful thinking; she didn't have the time to travel the world without a job paying for her flights and rent.

A gust of wind blew her hair into her face and she forced her tired legs to get up to close the open window. She needed to focus on the task at hand, not all the things she wished she could do, wished she could forget.

Throwing her bag down on the couch beside her, she felt around her pockets until her fingers wrapped around her key ring. She unlocked the lock keeping the zipper closed and unzipped the bag slowly, not wanting to spill its contents all over the floor. This apartment was still clean and she wanted to keep it that way.

It took her a few minutes of rifling around before she found her current contract, in its beige folder that matched Chomiki's room.

Sketchy contracts weren't rare in her line of work. In fact, it was odd to have a contract that wasn't missing at least one important detail. But something about Chomiki and his simple, very legal-looking contract didn't feel right.

Despite what she did for a living, Lin refused to be employed by the people who burned down orphanages for entertainment. She didn't mind sadists and the like, but when the person wanting to hire her crossed the invisible line she'd drawn for herself when her career began, she found a way to disappear.

She got up and paced around her small apartment.

Something about this assignment was making her apprehensive, something was off but she couldn't quite place her finger on what it was. The fact that Chomiki was more likely a sketchy  businessman that an angry mafia boss wasn't alarming, so what was causing her uneasiness?

She stopped pacing abruptly and rammed her fist into the kitchen's marble counter-top, leaving a small dent. She couldn't afford to second-guess herself or overthink anything at any point. Doing either of those things always resulted in failure, as she'd come o learn the hard way. She rubbed her now-sore fist and heaved a sigh. She was definitely losing it.

After staring blankly at the couch for a long moment, she made her way over to it and sat down with another sigh. She began folding and unfolding her fingers together rhythmically. Her thoughts resembled a flurry of snowflakes in a sudden gust of wind; she couldn't seem to hold on to a solid answer to her question. What was she missing here?

Scheduling, she decided. If she was going to unnecessarily overthink this, then there was no point in not being over-prepared. She pulled out her notebook and set of colored pens, setting them down on the table. Writing things out in color-coded order was always soothing and it would help calm her anxieties for the days ahead.

She wrote everything out in her careful hand-writing, deciding that her first step would be getting the weapons she felt most comfortable with and the second analyzing her target's schedule. She needed a way to eliminate him cleanly and quickly; all she needed was one perfect shot and she could disappear again until she needed money.

It seemed so simple when laid out like that, but there was so much preparation to be done before she could focus on the simple mechanics of her job.

She needed a time and place to complete her job, she needed an untraceable gun and bullets, she needed assistance that would hopefully come without baggage. None of those things were easy to find and if she thought about it all at once, it seemed impossible, or rather highly improbable because nothing was really impossible.

But by focusing on each key step individually, she could keep the sliver of sanity she still had left from falling to pieces. Which, she noted, sounded much easier than it really was. Sighing, she closed her notebook and got up.

Her eyes were closing of their own accord and if she didn't sleep soon, tomorrow would be a complete write-off. She forced herself to walk to the bedroom and she flicked the light switch off. She lay down with her shoes and makeup still on and the moment her head hit the pillow, she was asleep.

A/N: I keep wondering if my writing will ever improve... Anyways, I just want to say that online school sucks ass and I want to go back to actual class.