Field Trip to Stark Industries- Peter Parker/ Spider-Man

Field Trip (Pt. 4) - Black Widow

     The class and I swipe our cards and file into the training room, where a certain Black Widow is waiting. Natasha gives us all an uncharacteristic wave and smile. "Hello everyone! as you probably already know, my name is Natasha Romanoff. I am here today to show you all some basic defensive moves if you are ever in a situation where you need to defend yourself from an attack or whatnot. These will be exclusively defensive moves. However, a small disclaimer, you should never fight if you don't need to. The best course of action will always be to create a distraction and run. Have I made myself clear?" Everyone, including myself, simultaneously nod. "Alright then! Let's run over a few! Now let's see... Well, the first thing you should need to know is how to block a punch. It's quite simple really. All you need to do is raise your arm like this..."

     She keeps talking, but I don't listen. I'm fairly certain I know how to block a punch. Being Spider-Man does have its perks.

     I don't realize how long I drift off until Ned elbows me sharply in the side. "At least try and look like you're paying attention!" He whispers out of the side of his mouth. I subtly nod and focus back on Nat.

     "Okay, everybody got that down?" Natasha asks, receiving a nod from each one of us. "M'kay, if you need help, I will be around assisting if needed. Now I want you guys to pair up and practice these three moves. Are we ready? Annnnddddd. Go!"

     Everyone rushes off with a friend, eager to practice their newly-found skills. Usually, I do partner work with Ned, but because being Spider-Man gave me an advantage, he opted to practice with MJ instead. Which is fine by me, except for when I realize that there is an odd amount of people in the class, which meant I had no one. And that either meant that I would have to sit out, or practice with Natasha. I couldn't decide which was worse. Sitting out would be boring but on the other hand, Nat might embarrass the crap out of me.

     Luckily, I didn't have to decide. Natasha struts over to me, hands on her hips. "Looks like it's you and me, partner," She says. "You wanna go to the ring?"

     Since the sparring ring is in the corner of the room, I decide that it would draw little attention to myself. "Sure Ms. Romanoff, why not?"

     She laughs and swings her arm over my shoulders. "When will you stop calling me that?" She chuckles, and I grin.

     Ducking under the ropes of the sparring cage, I assume my fighting stance. I didn't mind a challenge, but there was no way I'll win.

     Natasha seems to be thinking the same thing. She lowers her center of gravity, facing me with a confident smirk.

     We begin to circle each other slowly. Moving in sync, step for step, each on our toes, waiting for the other to make the first move.

     Eventually, Natasha gets tired of waiting. She throws a low jab with her left arm, swinging fast and aiming for my stomach. My super senses warned me of this ahead of time, so I easily side-step out of the way. Unfortunately, that seemed to be her plan. As soon as I move out of the way, she aims a stronger punch at my head with her right arm, which I barely miss.

     And thus the duel begins. I manage to get a few good swings in, but I spent most of the time on the defensive side. We seemed to be going around for hours. Circle, circle, step, step, punch, dodge, kick, dodge.

     And then Natasha made her fatal mistake. She had just swung her leg at me, at my ankles, aiming to sweep my feet off the ground. But she swung her leg too much- a second too long, an inch farther than planned- and a sliver of opportunity opened for me. Swiftly I jump up, avoiding her leg, and land on her back with my legs wrapped around her neck. I use all my upper body strength to push back and lean until our combined weights cause her to lose her balance and topple over. Jumping up, I grab her arm and held it behind her back while using my weight to pin her to the ground. She taps my hand, saying, "Alright, alright! You win! Gerroff me!"