❝ so, WHO exactly are you supposed to be? our intern? ❞

she can hardly stop herself from smiling -- she manages to keep a straight face, but just barely. 

natasha is immensely charmed by clint’s bond with this boy. she knows that he’s a stand in, more or less, for the brothers clint’s missing, but that doesn’t make their bond any less genuine.

they’re in a safe house in brazil, waiting for the sun to fall, the last dying rays casting streaks of light through the blinds over the window.

natasha’s never been to brazil before. she thinks she might actually like it, were circumstances different. but here, right now, there’s a job to do, and she knows she’s being WATCHED. it’s obvious to her that this is a test -- a test of whether she can follow orders, and play nice, and stack up to the expectations set for shield agents. 

she likes clint -- she can’t not, given all he’s done for her so far -- but she definitely can’t say she trusts him. not that there are many people she trusts. natasha holsters the gun set out on the table in front of her, sliding it firmly into the thigh holster on her right side. 

they’re investigating a terrorist outpost that has supposedly been exhibiting suspicious activity. they’re to assess how many people are there, how heavily guarded it is -- general reconnaissance -- and return with the info. the gun on her thigh is only for emergencies. they’ve been strictly ordered NOT to intervene.