Mary lifted her head, groaning softly as she opened her eyes. Her head was pounding like someone had given her heart a mallet and started whacking her skull. Her eyes focused as she grew aware of her surroundings.

"Miss Alban."

"Who?" She asked, her eyes finally focusing on the three figures in front of her. One of them was Trench-Coat dude, though now she could clearly see his dark eyes and honey-blonde hair, and one was Dishevelled, with darker hair and blue eyes. It was the man in the middle that caught her attention. Tall, solemn, dressed head-to-toe in black with dark skin and an eye patch. Nicholas J Fury.

"You, Jessica Alban."

Mary snorted. "Wow Fury, I really thought you'd have done some research. Jessica Alban doesn't exist."

Fury narrowed his eye. "Then who are you?"

"Mary Teresa Fitzpatrick. Ex- Red Room student, who wanted to see you."

The two agents beside Fury suddenly whipped out guns, aiming them at then 17-year-old. Fury studied her, from the blond hair to blue contacts. "What do you want?"

"To join SHIELD."

"Why?"

Mary took in a deep breath, formulating her answer. "Because I've spent my whole life being taught how to kill people. I've never had a normal life and I don't think I ever will, but I don't want to be what they trained me to be. I wanna help people, not hurt them." She paused. "And also because I wanna take down the Red Room and free those girls in there and also give Dreykov a few punches to the face."

Fury nodded, his face cool and calculating. "How old are you?"

"17, sir."

"So, far too young to join-" Trench Coat started.

"We have Barton, Johnson. She'll be fine." The director turned back to Mary. "You'll be put on probation. Make one wrong move and you'll find yourself in a very unpleasant place."

Mary nodded, her smile widening. "So... when can I see the place?"

* * * * *

Mary looked around her room. It was the nicest room she'd ever had, despite it being fairly bland. There were plenty of books to keep her company, a double bed (it's so big!), an ensuite and a chest of drawers full of SHIELD shirts and pants. Fury had taken her around the place and shown her where she could go, which wasn't a large space but oh well, and given her a bok of auburn hair dye she had asked for. She'd get to that later.

Mary slipped out of her room and down the hall, winding her way to the one science lab  she was allowed in. The scientist who worked in there had the 'unfortunate' task of keeping her in check. Fury had put them together, knowing that his quiet, patient personality would keep her feisty sass from getting the best of her.

She walked in, plopping herself onto a bench. "Hey Richy."

The young scientist looked up. He was barely 18, a few months older than her, with dark hair that needed a good trim. His rich, mahogany eyes held intelligence and wisdom, but also a strange youthfulness. He was pale, ridiculously pale, the kind of pale that made you think they'd never have been in the sun before. "I told you not to call me that," he said, not inkindly as he turned back to his project.

"Fine, Richard. What was your last name again?"

"Parker."

Mary hummed. She watched as he poured over his experiment, fascinated by his logic and thinking. He was incredibly intelligent, there was no doubt about it.

Eventually she grew bored, walking around the lab and looking at everything. "Can I put a piece of sodium in a beaker of water?" She asked innocently. Explosions, albeit small ones, were fun.

"Absolutely not. Fury would have me fired on the spot."

"You're boring."

"I know." Richard straightened, removing the goggles from his eyes. "I like it that way. You don't get in trouble."

Mary raised her eyebrows. "This is going to be a fun probation. Mr I-Gotta-Follow-All-The-Rules and me, who literally broke out of the Red Room with a vial of Gallium and spent the last four years posing as fake identities, which I'm sure is illegal."

"Wait, did you say you broke out with a vial of Gallium?"

"Yeah."

"How did that work?" He came and leant on the bench across from her. She shrunk a little under his intense gaze.

"I climbed through the vents, poured the gallium on the bars, waited for it to harden, then kicked the bars away. Russia is really cold," she explained. Richard nodded,  his head slightly tilted.

"You're smart," he said unexpectedly. Mary blinked, surprised.

"Thanks."

Richard went back to work, mumbling an "okay" when Mary said she was going to the training room. She left, walking the few minutes to the training room.

It was the junior one, not as high-tech and dangerous as the other senior ones at SHIELD, but it was still cool. There were more than one room; one for target practice, one for sparring and tumbling, a gym, a parkour unit and a yoga area with a view outside. Mary wandered to the target practice, hoping to try her hand. She hadn't had a gun in a while and she wanted to make sure her aim was still up to standard.

The only other person in there was a young teenage boy, around 14 or so, with short, blonde hair and a bow. He didn't notice as she walked in, focusing on the target in front of him. He let the string go and the arrow soared through the air at lighting speed, sinking through the heart of the bullseye. Mary gave a low whistle. "Nice shot."

He jumped, reaching for his ear as he pressed something. Hearing aids. "Sorry  I didn't hear you come in." He looked back at the arrow in the target. "Thanks."

Mary smiled and grabbed a pair of mufflers and a small handgun. She gave it a few shots, landing several bullseyes in the gun targets. She turned away, watching her arm in the reflection of the mirror behind her and fired, smirking as she landed another bullseye. She hadn't lost her aim, thankfully.

The boy watched her, his mouth open slightly. "How'd you do that?" He asked, shocked.

Mary jerked her thumb at the glass. "Watched my reflection. It's handy to use your surroundings, 'cause you're not always going to be able to turn around."

He nodded, facing the window himself. Mary walked over and helped, showing him how to position himself. "Now let go."

He did. The arrow landed smack bang in the center again. A grin spread across his face. "Thanks for that," he said, impressed and proud that he had made the shot. He held out his hand. "Clint Barton."

Mary shook it. "Mary Fitzpatrick. Pleasure to meet you, Clint."

"You too."

"So how did Fury recruit you?" She asked, grabbing two drink bottles and handing him one.

"I ran away from home." He took a swing of the water, sighing contently. "My dad and I were in the circus. He was the strongman and I did tricks with my bow and on the trapeze. He wasn't a great dad though. Pretty brutal. So I ran away. Fury found me  I told him about what happened, and he took me in." He downed the rest of the water. "What about you?"

Mary chuckled. "Oh, nothing really, I was just raised in a secret Russian organization to be an assassin and ended up escaping, made my way to the US, kept low, the intercepted a SHIELD code, purposely got myself captured and now I'm on probation."

"That's hardcore."

"You too." Mary stood up, screwing the lid on her drink bottle. "I'm gonna get food, apparently they have pizza. You in?"

Clint grinned as she helped him up. "You had me at pizza."