Avengers/X-Men One Shots - The Blood/White Phoenix Saga

ONE-SHOT XLIV: By Day, A Pretty Barista. By Night, A Deadly Russian Mercenary

Set some time after previous one-shot - during Blood Phoenix 7

Black Widow/SA-8432

I cleaned the bench, whistling a tune on the radio. My apron was stained with flour and I smelled like coffee grounds, but I didn't care. I loved my day job. As soon as I started getting acclimatised to this new world, I began to settle into it, all the while pursuing a suitable night job. That suitable job: a mercenary for hire. Two or three jobs a night, and the barista job in the day, which kept me afloat. While I worked, I kept searching for the Winter Soldier and the Winter Phoenix.

Every other day, I continued to regain memories of my past life. How long I was in Russia. Who I really was. But there was still a big time gap in how I was born and how I grew up so fricking fast. That would have to be answered by my previous owners, perhaps even my handlers could tell me. It was then that I went on a rampage, picking up paper trails of people that worked for HYDRA, that could perhaps tell me for once, who I was.

-Time skip-

Time to kill for a living, I thought, cocking my sniper rifle and setting it on the windowsill carefully. I smiled, giving a small, dark chuckle.

'Come to Mama,' I said in a sing-song voice as my target came into view through my rifle scope. I pointed the gun right at his head. Just then, another person came into view, blocking my scope view of the target. I growled and pulled out my 9mm, packing up my sniper weapon. Moving into the building below me, I easily took out a guard below me.

Quietly making my way through the building, I sliced with knives and snapped necks until I came to the main room. There was the man that was my target, along with the other person who had blocked my view and a few others around. I aimed my gun at one of the closest guard and shot him, causing the guy who had blocked my scope to reveal himself, surprisingly. He and I - no, I wasn't working with this guy. He began to take out the agents, and so did I. Near the end of the fight, I caught my target.

I threw him on the ground, pointing my gun at his head.

'Hello, Jacques Walter. You're under penalty of death.'

'For what, may I ask?' he asked with a thick French accent.

'For being an ass-hole. Your old boss wanted his cut, and you double-crossed him. He sent me to finish the job.'

'You - you have his eyes,' he blurted out. I lowered the gun slightly.

'Whose?' I growled out through gritted teeth.

'The Winter Soldier's. You have his eyes,' he repeated. 'There was no other HYDRA agent that had blue eyes like his. Except the Winter Phoenix. And you have her hair. Brown hair, naturally curly.' I grabbed Jacques and threw him against the wall, putting my gun to his temple.

'How do you know so much about them?'

'HYDRA's little Assets. Their little pets. My boss - your boss, they were all in a criminal network. The lot of them. All in bed with HYDRA. That's why I left. After the fall of SHIELD, I-' and the sound of a gunshot filled the air. He stilled instantly. I pulled away.

'HYDRA fucking scum,' I heard the voice of the man behind me say. I turned and looked at the man, dropping the now-dead Jacques in the process. He had a bit of a rugged look on his face and brown eyes, with short brown hair, cut close to his neck. I tilted my head.

'Who the hell are you?'

'Lance Hunter. I work with SHIELD. You must be that Red Room girl that everyone says is that pretty barista on 17th Street.'

'You're flirting with me, aren't you?' He shrugged and made a face.

'Maybe. Want coffee?'

'You're asking me out after a job? A little unconventional, don't you think?' I asked.

'I don't know.' I laughed and placed my pistol into the waistband of my jeans.

'Fine. But not for long. Gotta go get my cut for a job well done.' I turned around, as the HYDRA scum on the ground was surprisingly still alive and kicking after Lance's bullet. I took my gun out and sent the gun into his head, finally killing him. I turned and put the gun away, then walked away with Lance Hunter, agent of SHIELD.

This was going to be one hell of an impromptu coffee date.

-Time skip-

'They weren't lying when they said you were a skillful operative. You'd do great at SHIELD.' I smiled, just a hint of it crossing my features.

'Yeah... not really. I hate desk jobs. And working for an intelligence organisation that can't see straight isn't my style. I'm more freelance.'

'Right,' he said, stirring his coffee. I sat back, chewing my small meal of french fries.

'So you're SHIELD, huh?'

'Yeah. Did a few things here and there. Married a pretty girl, but I guess meeting on the field isn't a solid building block for marriage.'

'Wow. So...'

'So what?'

'You going for another girl? Or are you happy being single and simple?' He laughed, taking a sip of his coffee.

'Nah. Bobbie and I are on and off these days. We still love each other, but things are just at a standstill. If I found another girl who I'd be willing to sweep up, then I'd be a lucky guy.' I smiled. 'So what about you, besides your seemingly nightly killing job?'

'I do more than that, Mr. British,' I mocked.

'So what do you do?'

'Well, as you so eloquently pointed out at the warehouse we met at, I am the pretty barista on 17th Street, at Mickey's Coffee Port. And I do do these kind of night jobs. Killing, body dumping, hacking into government databases, and anything else that my skill set requires.'

'You work for one boss?' I looked up.

'Multiple, actually. Each of them require a different skill set, all of which I can offer.' He sat back too, folding his hands over his stomach.

'So you're a mercenary for hire,' he spoke.

'Right on the money there, English.' He laughed and I did so too. Then I stood, grabbing my purse, the cold metal of my gun a welcoming and familiar feeling. 'It was nice to meet you, Lance. Perhaps we can do this again sometime.'

'I would like that,' he replied smoothly in that cute British accent.

'Me too.' Then I turned and left, the thought of the handsome, very British Lance Hunter firmly imprinted on my mind.

That was one hell of an impromptu coffee date.