Miss Romanoff-Barton

Beginnings

Hi humans!

I'm back after a long, LONG time and have a pretty significant update for you all because holy hell there are a lot of you. I've finished rewriting! And have now updated all of the chapters with the new version of this story. I hope you all enjoy it!

- Jess

Also the only characters I own are the ones I create. Everything else is owned by Marvel.

Alexa's POV

The gentle tap of my shoes against polished tile floor echoes in my head as I walk calmly into the foyer, waiting to meet Ni- Director Fury.

My eyes zero in on an unoccupied, cream coloured couch and I quickly change my path, keeping my eyes focused ahead as I turn and sit down.

A quick glance around me at the people crossing the room confirms my suspicions. Every single person is staring at me. Great.

Not surprising I guess, wearing ripped skinny jeans and having bright red hair in the lobby of a secret government agency is going to draw attention.

It might not help that my parents are also two of the highest-ranking SHIELD agents to date. Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton. And that I'm a dead lookalike of my mum; long red hair, pale skin, green eyes; you get the picture.

I've been here countless times. In fact, I know this place very well, but the slight twist in my stomach betrays me. I might be slightly nervous.

In order to shake the nerves, and additionally, the feeling of being stared at, I cast my mind back to the events of this morning.

---

"Alex you'll be fine" my mother repeats for the second time, catching my hand to stop the jittery tapping noise I was making against the benchtop.

"But I need my Higher School Certificate to even become an agent" I reply earnestly.

In the middle of my reply and me off effectively, a voice yells from down stairs.

"Found it!"

I look over my shoulder quickly to see Tony swaggering into the room holding a manila folder aloft triumphantly.

"It was under some stuff DUM-E was collecting in my lab" He offers as an explanation before handing me the folder with a flourish and his signature grin.

I take it quickly and open the folder, revealing the document inside. I scan it, looking for breakages, imperfection or spillage of some kind, knowing the grease and oil that tends to be spread everywhere down in the labs.

As I run my eyes over the paper the singular number jumps out at me. 97.6. The ATAR result you get after being home-schooled by a god, a bunch of geeks and a handful of war vets.

After deeming my certificate unharmed I flick my eyes up to the smirking man in front of me and subtly shift my posture to something more self-assured.

"You, Mr Stark are going to pay for that later"

"Like you could try"

I glance at my mother and we share a devious smile.

Noticed immediately by dad, sitting atop the kitchen bench beside me. He chuckles at our planning.

Tony remains oblivious.

"What?"

He looks between mum and I and realisation clearly dawns on his face. Causing him to back away swiftly and turn to run into his lab, locking the door behind him.