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at least give me a badass name

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"Well," Steve said, running a hand down Cara's arm, "you've gone to me, Tony, Bruce, Clint, and refused to try finding your talent with Thor." He gave her a look.

She shook her head defiantly. "You've seen the way she looks at me! It's like I trigger her deadly assassin skills, or something. She gives me a bad vibe," she said, crossing her arms.

"She's the only one left for you to see," he reasoned, "and you're going to have to try someday. Just remember what Clint said: if you want to be with us, this is what it'll take. You'll have to get used to us eventually."

"I don't want to be with them, I want to be with you," she said softly, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

Slowly but surely, Steve had become more and more comfortable with Cara's displays of affection, whether they be in front of everyone, or in the silence of one of their bedrooms. At first he'd been hesitant to place his hands on her hips, but when she gave him a look, he'd always comply.

So now his hands were roaming around on her back as she sat on his lap, facing him. He moved his lips in harmony with hers, and he brought a hand up to rest in the crook of her neck, pulled her into him to deepen the kiss.

And then Cara pulled away. "Can't get too carried away," she breathed, still a hairsbreadth away from his lips, "I've got work to do, whether I want to do it or not."

Steve nodded, running a hand through his hair, the taste and feeling of her lips tattooed on his forever. He let her get up, and when she reached the door, he said, "Just be careful."

She smirked. "Why, you think she's gonna shoot me?" Her smug expression faltered. "Is she?"

He smiled softly, coming up to rub reassurance into the back of her hand with his thumb as he took it into his own. "No, of course not. But Natasha doesn't trust people easily. It'd be best if you weren't as...flamboyant around her. Just pay attention and do what she says."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You're acting it's the first day of school."

He squeezed her hand. "Just do it," he kissed her forehead and smiled again.

Cara sighed, and turned to leave the room. Then she turned and pointed a finger at him, a smirk on her face again. "If this works," she said, "I won't have to leave, right?"

Steve shook his head. "I hope not."

She crossed her arms in defiance and her lips curled at the thought of Fury, the guy who'd really pissed her off. "If this works," she muttered to herself, "I'm gonna show Fury that I deserve to be here. He can't determine my future." She didn't even wait for a response before heading off to where Nat was waiting for her in the training center.

-

The training center was...scary, to say the least. With the walls lined of all different kinds of weapons from grenades to guns, Cara decided to stay far away from them, afraid she might mess something up, or cause an explosion.

"Come on, if you're going to be in here you can't let the gun get the best of you."

Cara turned to see Nat making her way towards her, a pistol in each hand. She looked like the type of strong, stubborn woman Cara wanted to be.

Then the two girls were across from each other, and Nat was handing her one of the weapons. Cara took it with both hands and held it gingerly, careful not to pull the trigger.

"Ready?" Nat smirked. "Don't let the gun control you, remember that. Take control of the gun."

Cara nodded, trying to seem confident with herself, when really, she was just the opposite. But she had to admit, the sense of power the gun gave her was promising. It was cold in her hands, but for some reason, it was a soothing chill, one that allowed her to clear her head and only think about the heavy weapon in her hands. The weapon that could end her or Nat's life in one moment.

"Keep up, kid," Nat interrupted her thoughts, bringing her back to the real world. "I'm not going to wait around for you all day."

"Right." Cara saw a row of about five or six targets lined up against the wall, like Clint had set up for his archery. But this was all for shooting. It was Nat's personal shooting range. Cara lifted the gun up, creating a line from her shoulder to her fingertips that were wrapped around the grip tightly. She took a breath, and could sense Nat's presence, though it didn't make her nervous, or bother her at all. It was just her, the gun, and the target. That was all that mattered.

Her finger moved then, pulling the trigger. The force of the gun made her arms jerk, and she almost lost balance, but regained it due to her wide stance. She expected Natasha to make a snide remark about how she'd missed the target terribly and could've killed them both, but when she looked up at the redhead, she saw her mouth hanging wide open in shock.

"What?" Cara asked. "What did I--"

At that moment, she moved her gaze to the target that she'd fired at, and found her own mouth drop open.

Because right in the center of the target was a tiny hole, made by the bullet from Cara's handgun.

"How did you--" Nat said, and then pointed at her. "Beginner's luck. Do it again," she ordered.

So again, Cara lined up her shot, and this time absorbed the backlash of the gun going off. And yet again, the target had a small hole in the middle of it. Cara shot again and again, and she didn't miss--it was like she couldn't.

She tried to keep the satisfied grin that was threatening to come out off her face, and took everything that Nat gave to her, doing it perfectly. The knife-throwing trials were as faultless as shooting a gun, and Nat began to lose her rude demeanor, changing into amazement as she watched Cara hit the center of the target each time.

When it came to hand-to-hand, it was like she was adapting to the fighting style, because Cara was making Nat shout out obscenities, some in English, though most of them were in Russian. For every kick Nat threw, Cara had a counter-blow ready for her. More than once was Nat pinned down on the ground, and had to tap out.

"You've got to be kidding me," Cara breathed heavily when Nat let her get a drink.

"Trust me, I didn't think it'd turn out this way either, so don't blame me," Nat held up her hands.

"No, I'm not blaming you, it's just...who would've guessed it? You and I hated--"

"I wouldn't use the word in past tense just yet."

"Okay, whatever. We don't get along, and then I end up being better than you at everything? I mean--"

"Yeah, you're pushing it, Cara--"

"That's not just luck. It was like I woke something up inside me," Cara was astonished.

Nat glared at her. "I was this close to only disliking you."

But Cara wasn't bothered by her hostile manner. She was used to it. "Oh, come on. This'll be good. Now I can stay here!"

"Yippee."

"And we'll be able to pick a badass alias for me," she continued. "I mean, you're Black Widow, so what does that make me?"

"It makes you Cara."

She scoffed. "Seriously? We aren't gonna give me a good superhero name?"

"I never said you were a superhero."

"Well, I did. Now, what could I be?"

"Gone."

"What?"

Nat grimaced. "Cara, sweetie, you're getting on my nerves, if you can't tell. So I'd appreciate it if you just left and celebrated somewhere else, with someone else."

Cara grinned, back out of the training center. "Alright, alright, I'll go. But don't forget it, you have to at least--at least--give me a badass name."

"Ooh!" Nat turned around to clap her hands together in mock excitement. "I know! Cara the Copycat!"

Cara rolled her eyes. "Hey, it's not my fault I'm super good at this stuff. It's just natural."

When she left the room, she turned back over her shoulder to see Nat shaking her head, and she didn't miss the delighted smirk on her face.