TERRAN WASN'T BRINGING ANY WEAPONS WITH HIM. They were sitting in the back of an untraceable van that only had tinted windows in the front, the back completely closed off, filled to the brim with a variety to choose from, whether they be firearms to less conventional options.

"Is that a sword?" Terran asked warily, pointing towards a scabbard that was resting by the bows, quivers placed on their own section.

"We have knives and daggers, if that's more your speed," one of the agents escorting them replied, motioning towards the wall; they had been silent at the beginning, but after some coaxing from Terran they had wound up forming an easy rapport.

"No, I'm alright, I don't...I don't really, um..." Terran tried, pausing as he tried to find a way to explain why he didn't fight, "This isn't really what I do."

"All the more reason to have something," Natasha said, one of the first things she'd said since they'd finished with their debriefing of the area they were headed to.

"No, I'm alright," he said simply, turning to look down at her, nodding in finality. She shrugged and said nothing, but her feelings were clear, radiating off her despite her stoic expression and still form.

"So what do you do besides this, do you have any hobbies?" Terran asked, turning back to the agent in front of him, and they smiled, shrugging.

"I mean, I like to paint, but that doesn't mean I'm any good, but it makes me happy," they explained, glancing over to him as he leaned forward with rapt attention, smiling and nodding encouragingly.

"That's great," he said, "And, hey, even if it's just for fun, if it makes you happy that's all that matters, right? Natasha, what do you do? You know, for fun?"

Natasha turned to look at him, pausing for a moment, taking in his eager expression, then to the awaiting, more wary expression of the other agent listening in. Glancing towards the front, she noticed the other two agents listening intently, one glancing in the rearview mirror.

Finally, she replied with a simple, "I'll tell you when we get back."

Appeased for the most part, the two tried to peer outside, Natasha looking at the surveillance footage while Terran tried to take in the immediate surroundings as they passed, having trouble as they had no windows. Tapping her knee, he silently asked her to switch places and she slid over easily, allowing him to lean closer to look.

"What do you see on the building?" he asked, all traces of emotion gone, a complete stoic question, the strain to smile gone.

"Nothing yet," she hummed, "But that's the plan. They don't come out until the night. But from the footage since midnight, two have left, came back three hours later, two more left, then came back in an hour. Then it's silent. So there are at least four."

"Which means there are most likely six," he finished, glancing back towards her, and she nodded in agreement, almost impressed.

When Terran was working, he didn't smile. It surprised all whenever they saw, as they expected him to keep things light, but when he needed all his focus on a task, the constant reminder to force emotion took a backseat and all that was left was the blank slate he had been all those years before.

"You're going to need to establish yourselves, so we're parked here. Four blocks away, you'll get to us easily," the agent driving said, turning around in his seat, "Good luck."

"Thanks," Terran said, tone clipped, giving a pursed lipped smile towards the agent in the back as he crawled towards the door, waiting for Natasha who was now putting on her gear.

He watched as she slid a thin knife holster onto her thigh, covering it with her civilian leggings, two guns hidden around her waist, then, and he was sure it was because at the beginning of the ride he wondered how someone could even get away with it, she hid a knife in the inside of her shirt, clipped to her bra strap, staring him down.

He raised his hands in defeat, opening the door. "I stand corrected."

Climbing out, the two made their way down the alley, trying to seem inconspicuous as they made their way onto the street, Natasha checking her phone where she had been sent the surveillance and the GPS.

"So how are we playing this?" Terran asked as they walked, but Natasha simply reached over and latched their arms together, leaning against him.

He snickered as they walked, looking around and scouting, Natasha often nudging him to look at something they passed just so they didn't seem too strange. She elbowed him whenever he laughed at how hard it was for her to keep his stride.

"I should just carry you, maybe then we'll get there before tomorrow," he jibed, and she scoffed, pausing in the middle of the sidewalk to stare at him, half smiling and bewildered.

"Wow, okay," she said, and her voice was higher than it usually was, and she was struggling not to smile as she looked up at him, crossing her arms tightly, and it took Terran far to long to realize she was acting.

Catching up, he grinned and took a quick step forward, already enough to be right in front of her, scooping her up in his arms easily, carrying her bridal style as she shrieked with laughter, catching some attention before all eyes were averted and turned away.

She tossed her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear, "Just keep moving."

He didn't ask her why, simply continuing to walk as she tried to convince him to put her down, kissing his cheek and nuzzling against his neck. He glanced around, catching sight of a man following them though a reflection.

"Is that what you mean?" he asked softly, and she nodded minutely, nuzzling his neck again before turning her head, pretending to simply look, glancing away when she saw the man staring right at her.

"He's not one of them," she replied easily, "He's just watching us."

"Because he's a creep," Terran grumbled, "I was with this guy once, and we were followed by this other guy, it was not a time. This is why I don't date, my dates are always really attractive."

"I usually use that to my advantage," she sighed, and there was something about the way she said it, the genuine way she rested her head against his shoulder and let her shoulders droop that had him thinking, thoughts going down a path that he desperately hoped wasn't the truth.

"Mom's been complaining about the engagement, should we tell her we're eloping, maybe she'll get a heart attack and won't make it to the wedding," he said, louder this time, and Natasha giggled loudly, shushing him as she kissed the underside of his neck.

As she continued to kiss him, she whispered, "He's gone. Good job." After a few more kisses, she stopped, and he cleared his throat, his face red. She smirked at that, a genuine expression held for nothing more than her entertainment at his pain. "You having fun, Sweets?"

"Shut up," he grumbled, and she breathed softly, almost like a laugh, and he wondered what he'd have to do to actually get a smile and a laugh out of her.

"Nearly there," she said, taking a look at her phone, checking the backlog of footage, "No one's shown up yet, so let's assume all six are in there."

"Did you see Constantin leave recently?" he asked, lowering his voice, and she shook her head.

"He hasn't been seen in the last twenty-four hours. If anything, he could be the seventh. We might not even have to go inside, you're tall enough to see into the west facing window, we just need to get close enough," she explained, jumping down from his arms as they neared the building, glancing towards the tarp covered windows.

"What are we looking for?" he asked as they crossed the street, making their way to the fence that closed off the abandoned building, "Also, you notice that there tends to be a lot of these? You ever wonder about that?"

"Corruption's a disease, Sweets, and I don't just mean the economic kind," she sighed, the two pushing open the loose, hidden section of the fence, trying to make as little noise as possible, "Find something that could lead to answers of what he's doing here."

Terran nodded and the two carefully crept towards the west side of the building, hoping no one would catch them as they side stepped the bottles and other trash, coming to the side with forgotten boxes just underneath the tarp covered opening.

Before moving, Terran looked around, motioning towards the exits they could take if this went south. She nodded, keeping a lookout, a hand resting at her back. Pushing the tarp, he was able to get it just far enough to look inside.

His breath caught as he found a man facing the window directly, fast asleep on a sleeping bag, unmoving. He could see the slight rise and fall of his breathing, but he knew those eyes would open at the slightest hint of danger. If that one was asleep, that meant at least one was awake for lookout, if not two.

Holding his breath, he looked at the walls and the junk on the floor, narrowing his eyes at the metal pieces and wires. Shifting slightly to the right, he nearly screamed as he caught sight of a man facing towards the window, wide awake and tinkering away; just raise his head a little and Terran was done for.

He watched, seeing that he was tinkering with a piece of a larger machine, a strange square-like metal contraption sitting on a blueprint covered table. On the wall was a cork board covered in pictures and notes, some of people and places, others of items and designs. Next to it was a flag, cream colored with a blood red symbol, one he didn't recognize.

He could see a few people sleeping on the floor, just out of view, but he didn't want to risk everything by trying to see who they were. What mattered now was what they were building and what the symbol was.

Bending down quickly, he grabbed a pen from Natasha's jacket pocket and took her hand, scribbling the mark on her arm before writing on his own, ignoring her glare; he knew he should have asked, but now was not the time.

Motioning towards the exits, he walked, stopping when she grabbed his hand, widening her eyes in confusion. He shook his head, tugging her along and, after a brief glance back to the window, she followed.

They raced back to the van as quickly as they could, not making a sound until they were safe inside and cleared for any and all tracking or recording equipment.

"What was it?" she asked, staring at the scribble on the inside of her arm.

Terran held the notepad he had been carefully drawing in, biting the inside of his lip as he held it up. "They had a flag up. First I thought it was the communist flag, but the symbols are wrong and the star is at the bottom, not the top. They're building something in there, but I couldn't see what they were doing. We're gonna have to go back in, get them out for just a few minutes, we can take all the pictures, then run."

"That's risky, even for us," the agent in front of them pointed out, and Terran shook his head.

"We need to know," he said firmly, "Who do we go to if we wanna figure out if this flag's been seen anywhere before?"

"There are a few people," Natasha replied, taking his attention, "But Fury won't let us see his best man directly, so we need to send it to him."

The minute they touched base back at S.H.I.E.L.D. H.Q. the two made their way back to see Fury, Natasha convincing Terran not to run; running meant danger and in a building full of agents they didn't need a riot.

By the time they made it inside, Fury was already waiting for them, pouring over files and tablets, raising his head and raising an eyebrow. "What did you find?"

"They're building something, they have all these parts and blueprints, and they held up this flag, we need to find the best time to sneak inside and take pictures. In the meantime, we need to know what this is," Terran explained, pushing the note into Fury's hands, continuing to stand despite wanting nothing more than to take a seat. Natasha remained standing as well, arms crossed over her chest as she watched the Director closely.

"Let me get back to you on this, recon is still watching them. We'll talk in the morning. In the meantime, make sure no one knows about this, okay? You nearly lost it with Rogers, he asked about Barton having a secondary mission," Fury said, barely looking at them as he examined the paper, then went back to his files.

Terran and Natasha stood there for a moment, waiting for more, watching as the man continued to work. Finally, glancing up, he said, "Dismissed."

"That's it?" Terran asked, causing Natasha to pause, just as her hand was on the door.

"This isn't a clear cut mission, Sweets, it'll get intense once we know what we're after. Once that's finished, then you can go home," Fury said, leaning against the table, and Terran opened his mouth to explain that this wasn't because he wanted to rush, but because he was sure this couldn't be all the information he had, but one look from Fury's eye told him all he needed to know.

"See you," he sighed, turning around and following Natasha out of the room and down the hall.

He reached out to pick her up, but she whirled around, shaking her head. "Don't."

He held his arms up right by his head. "Sorry. But listen, if we're gonna be working together and living together, could we please try to be friends?"

"That doesn't seem wise considering the mission," she said smoothly, eyes never leaving him and arms at the ready.

He scoffed. "Clint's like, what, your platonic partner, am I right?" She nodded tightly and he smiled. "I love that, Janelle's mine. But see, you guys go on dangerous missions. And you're friends with the rest of your team. Sometimes, the relationships are what keeps you alive. No secrets."

Natasha scoffed. "We have a lot of secrets. Me more than most."

He sighed, taking a small step forward, pursing his lips when she tensed. "Look. We don't need to tell each other secrets and every little thing, but I'd like you to, you know, look at me like a person."

"I do-" she tried, but he cut her off, mimicking the expression she always gave him when she spoke to him.

"You really don't," he said, sighing as he rubbing his mouth, "Look, you're probably the only person I'll ever meet you has any idea of what I've had to do. I don't know what they made you do, but I have my suspicions, and I would like to think there's some solidarity there. Please, if we're going to work together..."

She sighed, forcing herself to relax slightly. "I'm not promising anything."

"When does anyone ever," he said, smiling as they continued down the hall, "Come on, I'm really hungry and Clint said he bought groceries."

Natasha followed him, allowing herself a breath of a laugh. "If were lucky, the bread'll be edible."

"He's trying his best," Terran scoffed, and, as he turned away, Natasha gave him the barest hint of a smile.

Even with his back turned, he could feel it. So he called that a win.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

( 07.04.18 )

So I'm not so sure where the mission part of this story is headed but we're making slow breakthrough between their relationship so that's fun!

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!