Summary: You’re an old colleague of Natasha’s who finds herself face to face with the Winter Soldier on the wrong end of an Avengers’ op.
Warnings: swearing (honestly shocked I haven’t sworn already), mild violence
Word count: 1700 (is it lucky that my first post is 1700 even?!)
Author’s Note: I have had a spectacularly awful day and have decided that I might as well let my b.barnes tumblr go down with the ship. So I’m posting my first ever attempt at a fic. I have written 3 parts and stared at them with trepidation for a week. Pt 3 is my fav., so I’ll post at least that much unless you all tell me there are enough self-indulgent non-writers out there and I need to stop now.
Tags: is this a joke? why the hell do I even have a tags section? I can’t believe I’m doing this… @marvelatmytrash because you’re a lovely human being an Imma need your encouragement (or to gently put me out of my misery) @thedragonblood because you once posted for your followers to tag you and I’m sorry, be careful what you wish for.
This was a pretty simple mission. The interrogation last
week had been fruitful and the small team were now en route to the drop off
site. It was an illegal weapons trade, their goal was to stop it and capture
the leaders. They had the most adept team available and it should have been
simple – Clint was pilot and as usual the tactical eyes in the field. Bucky and
Nat would take out the security, clearing a path for Steve to apprehend the
They landed in a heavily wooded area a mile from the site of
the deal. The four of them left the jet and started making their way in when a
long-range shot skimmed a nearby tree. As the team ducked for cover, Natasha
examined the fresh wound on her left arm just inches above a very similar scar
she had obtained a few years earlier. “Shit,” she mumbled thinking If that was Y/N, that was a warning shot, and Y/N won’t be so generous with the rest of my team.
The night is dewy as a maiden’s mouth, The skies are bright as are a maiden’s eyes, Soft as a maiden’s breath the wind that flies Up from the perfumed bosom of the South. Like sentinels, the pines stand in the park; And hither hastening, like rakes that roam, With lamps to light their wayward footsteps home, The fireflies come stagg’ring down the dark.
This old pine tree sits atop a small ridgeline in Garden of the Gods park. It’s home on that small ridge creates a dramatic setting. It’s not a large tree but it stands tall up there, like some lonely sentinel, a Garden Sentinel, at the eastern edge of the park.