A/N: the man above used to repress The Price is known as a model named Alexander Farsi.

Agent Richards had a death wish as he kept on belting out Broadway musical numbers after musical number as we drove back to New York City. If it wasn't for the fact that I needed a ride, I would have jumped out of the car and taken my chances with hitchhiking.

"AAAANNNDDDD I AM DEFYING GRAVITY!"

"If your weren't one of my superior officers, I would have had your singing head on a stake."

"You don't like Broadway?" He asked. Finally he stopped singing so that I could hear myself think.

"I like Broadway. I'm not sure I like Wicked but I prefer Hamilton more."

"Hamilton?" I could sense the judgment from two feet away.

"Yeah," I shrugged. "Mind you, I haven't actually seen Hamilton but I've heard a few tracks and I think that the new hip hop beats and rap put a new twist on history that makes it interesting as well as give us a new insight into what it was like back then."

"If I took you to see Hamilton, would you say yes?"

" Agent Richards, I only just met you for the first time face to face and your asking me out on a date?"

"Yes?" He scoffed. "I don't see why not. You're a perfectly charming young women who could probably kill me-----"

"You're not wrong."

"-----And I'm a single SHIELD agent that is offering to take you to a Broadway play that you really want to see," he shrugged as he changed lanes.

"Thanks but no thanks," I said. "I'm flattered but I don't think your girlfriend would appreciate it."

"How did you know that?"

"You reek of perfume," I pointed out. "Your girlfriend is the possessive type, I see. don't blame her. You just asked me out on a date. Maybe I should kill you for trying to cheat on your girlfriend."

"Uh.....its an open relationship?" He nervously said.

"Sure it is," I scoffed.

"Someone else you would rather see Hamilton with?" He asked.

"Yeah," I said as I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes waiting for this infuriating and awkward ride to be over.

"Oh? Who?"

Nosy little shit, isn't he?

"Me, jackass. Not drive before I kick you out this car and drive myself back to Manhattan."

----------

Thankfully, I had gotten back to Stark towers with only a mild headache. Maybe a glass of water and some aspirin would help with this.

Last time I ever get a ride from Agent Richards.

I had two reasons for that: 1) He's not my type. 2) Seriously? Broadway? And Wicked on top of all that. Sorry Idina Menzel, but the book was better.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in?" Clint said as the doors opened up to reveal him in his Hawk-eye glory. "And where have you been, young lady?"

"Here and there," I said as I leaned against the wall. "Any missions today, Agent Barton?"

"No. Not really."

"Hey, by the way. This is off the record by Thanks for taking out the guy with the gun. I should have watched my six. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be standing here."

"Don't sweat it. It's a rookies mistake. One I'm sure that you won't repeat. Besides," he flashed me a thumbs up. "You did great on your first mission."

"Thanks, Agent Barton. I appreciate it."

"Stop calling me Agent Barton, its way too formal for my liking. Call me Clint."

"Sure, Agent Barton."

"It's Clint to you, young lady!"

----------

"So how was your quest for information?" Loki asked as I walked into my room.

This had become so commonplace that I didn't even bother trying to send him out. He would just pop back in because he loved to annoy the shit out of me.

I could feel him trying to rummage around my head for some useful information. Gods, how much I wished that I had powers like shielding my mind or something similar to it.

"Get out of my brain, Loki," I hissed.

"If only you'd tell me these things so I would have to do such ghastly things. Speaking of ghastly things....my, my. You have some very interesting memories about-----"

I didn't let that little shit even finish that sentence. A knife had lodged itself into the chair only a couple centimeters from his pompous face. His eyes widened in shock briefly before looked back at me with his usual face.

"Temper, Temper," he clucked.

"Shut up," I growled. "I'm in no mood to deal with you."

"How rude," Loki said.

I walked to the small desk that I had placed between my bookshelves. It was the IKEA desk that took a shit ton of time to fix but in the end it was functional.

My desk hadn't been disturbed by Loki but there was new set of files on my desk.

The Prince, File #: 294903

Did that damn pirate have one of his lackeys place this here? He probably did.

I couldn't help but flip through it. It had pictures, locations, recent bank records, previous aliases and some very old records.

There was one blurry picture of him with some words scribbled underneath it. It read Amid Anwar, AKA: The Prince.

I suppose Fury wanted me to take a personal interest in this but I didn't want to play his game.

The file could only provide one thing.

The Prince, other wise known as Amid Anwar was alive and he was looking for me.

If what Fury said was right then that meant that there was a war coming. Nobody survives a burning building like that and not have any grudges. My only question was what did he want to do to me once he found me?

Experiment on me? Kill me? Blackmail me?

Ugh! This was maddening.

I felt my heart rise up into my throat as my stomach churned like a stormy sea.

This was pure, unadulterated fear that coursed through my veins mixed in with a smudge of untainted anger.

Perhaps Fury was right in some twisted way.
There was a war coming and the Avengers---including me---would have to face it. The only thing that remains is how? I can't just wait for the bastard to show up and possibly kill me.

I got to be ready.

I have to be prepared.

That's why Fury put me on this team. That son of a bitch knew that Amid was alive and he wanted me to end him but he also knew that I wasn't skilled enough so he put me under the Avengers so that they could train me to finish the job.

That was a pretty clever plan but as in all battles I've ever face. There's one factor Fury didn't account for: I prefer to face my problems alone. If I need help from the Avengers, I'll ask. But for now, I need way more information and I know a place that'll get it for me.

"Time to get to work," I said as I opened up the file.

----------

"I don't like it," Agent Romanoff said as she paced around the living room.

"Like what?" Steve asked, taking his eyes off his newspaper.

"She's holing herself up. I don't know if she's scared or she doesn't feel welcome."

She shot Stark a dirty look.

"Done blame me for that," Stark said without even looking away from the TV.

"Anyway, why does it matter?" Steve said.

"I'm her S.O."

"And that makes you think that you should help her socially? It isn't profession to get involved."

"She just feels guilty that she almost let Maya get shot and I was there to help," Clint said loudly. "Maybe you're getting old, Nat. Is that a grey hair I see or are you just stressed out?"

"Keep it up, old man and I think she'll throw you out of the tower," Pietro said, leaving a blue streak behind him. "We should take her out to a pub. New York is famous for them, no?"

"And here he goes," Wanda rolled her eyes. "No offense but she doesn't exactly look like the socializing type. Maybe she prefers solitude and somewhere quiet."

"Who cares?" Stark said. "As long as she does what she needs to do during the missions."

"Harsh, Stark. Harsh."

"We're a team," Steve said. "As much as valuable Maya is in the field, she really isn't much of a teammate. She always goes back to her room barely coming out unless for food, training or missions."

"What? You wanna start a team building exercise?" Tony scoffed. "Trust falls, anybody?"

"In a way, yes."

"What do you have in mind?" Agent Romanoff asked.

"I know pretty nice bar not too far from here. It's happy hour tonight and plus we don't have any missions tomorrow," Clint suggested.

"Count me out of your little exercise this time," Tony said. "The last time we did a team building exercise Bucky got chased by a bear when we were camping and a day without technology is not what I had in mind!"

"One time, Stark!" Bucky yelled.

"I don't think Maya likes me very much so I'll just excuse myself," Wanda said as she made her way to the elevator.

"Would you like some company?" Vision asked, ignoring the glare he was getting from Pietro.

"I need to polish my arm," Bucky said and then got up to go to the training room.

"Cmon, Buck!" Steve groaned as he followed him. "You need to go out too!"

"So I guess it's just Nat, Pietro, Maya and I tonight?"

"I guess so."

"Bucky's coming with us too!" Steve called out as he dragged his friend from the kitchen away from the training room.

"This is going to be a very interesting night."

----------

After kicking a certain God of Mischief out of my room, I started to map out Amid's location using his file.

The giant world map in front of me was littered with information that I had meticulously pinned on. Every location and every know associate was on this damn map.

I had to find his bastard and I had to figure out what he was up to.

It was only a matter of time before he strikes.

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard a knock at my door.

I kicked the box of files underneath my bed and then used a curtain to cover up my map of wonder. Hopefully, it wasn't too inconspicuous.

After making sure the room was clear, I sat down at my desk pretending to read a book about Ancient Chinese history.

"Come in!"

The door handle turned and in came my favorite red head slash former Soviet Russian spy.

"Hey."

"Hello, Agent Romanoff," I greeted. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Everything is good," she said. "Clint and I are going out to a bar. Pietro decided to tag along and Steve got Bucky to come along with us. We were wondering if you wanted to...you know....get out of the tower?"

"Thank you for the offer but I prefer to----"

"Yeah. No. That's not happening."

"Pardon?"

"Get dressed in the next twenty minutes and get ready to go," she placed her hands on her hips and stared at me with a disapproving look. "This is an order from your S.O."

"I can't exactly argue with that," I closed my book, sighing. "Do I have to go? Social gatherings aren't my exact forte."

"It's not that bad. I know you have slight anxiety about it but--"

"I have no idea what you're taking about--"

"It's not that hard to see. You're nervous in a room full of people and you look like you want to bolt. Look, I'm saying this as your S.O. You can't just expect to become part of a team if you refuse to interact with it."

"No offense, Agent Romanoff but----"

"No buts. If you want to kick this anxiety to the ground you have to expose yourself to places with people starting with this pub we're going to," she said as she walked out of my room. "Get dressed. You now have ten minutes."

-------

Thankfully Stark didn't hate me too much to get me shitty clothes or maybe it was Pepper who got these for me.

I wore a black tank top with the words: Sorry I'm Late, I didn't want to come. I found a pair of high wasted jeans and a very snug leather jacket. I would have just used my regular boots but they were still caked with mud from the last mission so instead I decided to wear some high heeled boots that Agent Romanoof had provided me.

I would have to send her a thank you note when I had the time.

I remember I used to sneak into bars and get into all types of shenanigans when I was younger. Of course, I was underage so it was also illegal. I miss those days where I wasn't so scared that I wouldn't accidentally kill someone.

How much would I give just to go back to those days?

"Hey, kid! You ready?!"

"Of course, Agent Barton."

I slipped on my leather jacket and opened my door.

"Ready?" Clint asked me. "I'll take it that Natasha did the whole, 'I'm your S.O. and you have to do what I say' thing?"

"Basically."

"Don't worry about it," Clint said as he lead me to the elevator. "You'll be fine. Trust us. Would we lead you to any trouble?"

---------

They led me to trouble.

No, I'm serious.

There's a pub in Manhattan that's called
Trouble.

"This bar seems like it is trouble," Steve said as he tugged his hat over his head. "You sure this is a good idea, you two?"

"Cmon, Cap. It's not too bad," Clint said as he held the door open for me.

"Compared to the bars I've been to, this ain't so half bad. I like it," Bucky said as he strolled in after me.

Getting pass the usher was one thing but going in was another.

Immediately I was thrown off by how loud and unruly it was. It was like any other pub with pulsing lights and loud music but what was different was me.

My palms started sweating, my heart beat was through the roof and I felt my knees wobble.

Oh, no.

It was happening.

Too many people around me. Too many victims.

I had to get out of here. I had to run.

"This...this was a really bad idea," I said to myself.

Agent Romanoff placed a hand on my shoulder and dragged me away from the bodies of people, leaving the boys behind.

I jumped up into a barstool trying to calm myself off as my forehead collided with the cool surface of the bad.

"You okay?" She asked me. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."

No shit, Sherlock.

"I'm fine," I managed to say. "I told you. Social gatherings aren't my forte. That is why." I nodded to my shaking hands.

"You managed well on the mission. You took out all those soldiers," she pointed out.

"That's because that was a mission. I'm okay in the field but out of it is just too difficult for me outside the field."

I calmed down enough that I was able to lean against the bar and watch the hordes of people dance to dubstep.

"You shouldn't even be in the field," Agent Romanoff said. "With what you're going through, you shouldn't have even been cleared for this kind of thing."

"I'm not gonna disagree with you on that," I said. "But what Fury wants, Fury gets. He wanted me on this team."

"Why did Fury put you on this team?"

If I had a normal life, this would just be friendly encounter with a stranger asking friendly questions. Only my life wasn't normal and that wasn't a friendly question. Not in my book.

"One word: Classified."

"So why tell you and not us."

"He didn't tell me anything. I figured it out by myself actually."

"So you're not gonna tell us anyway?"

"It's complicated," I shrugged. "But what can I do? All I can tell you is that something big is coming this way and whatever it is, I have to be the one who stops it."

It was quiet for a few moments as I let that sink in. I didn't reveal too much at all.

"Why you alone? Fury put you on this team so we can take down this threat together, didn't he? Isn't that what the Avengers are for?"

I let out a dry laugh.

"You've faced, a Demi God, Hydra, Ultron, each other and a shit ton of scary and incredible things. I'm just here to play a part. That's all. What I face is big to me but tiny to you."

"You have a gift for being vague," she said, drowning the other shot.

"The job calls for it."

"So it does," she smirked. "On paper you're part of the Avengers but in reality, you're not even close."

"That's basically it."

"Then become an Avenger."

"Pardon?"

"You posses a raw talent at close knife and are effective in the field when it comes to snipers but what makes you an Avenger? Every rookie from SHIELD knows basic firearms but what makes you part of this team?"

"You're an Avenger, Agent Romanoff. You tell me. What makes an Avenger an Avenger?"

"In my opinion, becoming a part of this team means honing in your gifts and using them to benefit the team in the most effective every way possible whether it be socially or not. That's what I mean when you need to become an Avenger."

"I don't see why Fury chose you to be my S.O. instead of Captain Rogers."

"So how about it? Two more shots of vodka to celebrate you becoming an Avenger?" She asked me.

"Thanks, Agent Romanoff," I said as I slid my shot over to her. "I don't drink but I'll toast to your notion."

I lifted the shot glass up in the air.

"To being an honorary Avenger."

-------

Several shots later and some dubstep blasting from the stereos, I actually found myself enjoying this.

Steve was awkwardly trying to dance on the dance floor with Clint trying his best not to trip over his feet. I couldn't help but smile at that sight.

Pietro was zipping back and forth. One minute he was munching on some tacos and the next he was flirting with the waitress and then he was downing some vodka at the bar. The boy didn't even stay still for even a minute.

Natasha and Bucky were slumped over as they tried to drink each other under the table and just failing miserably. Natasha just become much more angrier and Barnes was becoming more flirty trying very cheesy pick up lines on her.

I sat down next to Natasha, tapping my foot along with the music.

"Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?" Barnes slurred as he placed another shot glass down. 

That was the most pathetic pick up line I've ever heard.

"No, but I scraped my knees when I climbed up from hell!" Natasha slammed her shot glass down and flipped him the bird as she sent him a death glare.

Note to self: Don't mess with a drunken and angry Black Widow.

My eyes scanned the crowd. It was a usual Friday night with college student and a couple of famous people with the entourages behind them.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

That is until a certain man in a suit walked in.

I watched as he effortlessly glided across the dance floor and to one of the more private rooms. Nobody paid him a thought as he flew right past them. I would have usually just dismissed it as a mob thing. It was New York City after all. Not really that surprising to see a few wise guys.

Except, this wasn't a wise guy.

This was number seven on the Interpol list for Biochemical Terrorism, french national: Jaques Clove.

A.K.A. Hemlock

It was a shitty name. I know but it was effective. He was know to have dealings by selling rare and dangerous poisons that he concocted himself.

This man was no heading to the back and I knew that he was my best lead to The Prince.

"Be right back," I said.

My focus was on Jacques, i didn't noticed as I passed through the bodies of people dancing. It felt like I was out of my own body.

I was stalking my prey and nothing seemed to get in my way.

The curtain was guarded by only one guy so that meant I had to either sneak past him or lure him away from his post.

A waiter walked past me with a drinks. I stealthy stuck my foot out and down he went with a glass of bear slashing over some A-list wannabe.

The A-lister got up, red in the face as he glared at the waiter. 

"You got some problem, pal?!"

"I'm so s-sorry, sir. I'll get you new drinks."

"You gonna get me a new jacket too, you punk?!" He yelled as he grabbed the poor waited by the collar.

Thankfully, the guard took notice of the situation and walked over so he could break up the would be fight. That gave me enough time to slip by unnoticed.

I pushed aside the curtain as I hurried past. I had to find Jacques.

The back was mainly for storage. There were boxes in shelves everywhere. It smelled like something died in here but that wasn't surprisingly. The mob had to kill a few rats, right?!

"What do you mean zhat I 'ave not been loyal?!"

The accent was distinctly french but with a sprinkle of Caribbean in there.

"You been stealing too much money from me delivering weak poisons. I thought you were the best or you just some fish out of water?"

I knew that voice. That voice was in my darkest of nightmares.

It was him.

It was The Prince.

"You think you can just cut me off? I supply the worlds best poisons---"

"And yet your poisons don't even deliver," The Prince said in an indifferent voice.

I hid behind a crate, carefully keeping my breathing in check. I didn't dare try to expose myself. Hell, I didn't bring a gun but i did have a small knife in my back pocket. Hand to hand combat wouldn't save me if I exposed my self right now. I could only gather some Intel and let the bastard slither away into the night.

"Who could you possible do business with? There is nobody who can supply you with what you need like I can."

"Actually, there is. She's too protected right now so that's not an option. It was silly of me to think that voodoo would provide a solution. Father was not happy when I presented him with the failed results, Jacques. Not happy at all."

His voice hasn't changed a single bit. It was deep but underneath you could hear the venom boiling up. He was a snake that charmed the charmer before striking out. I've seen it before and I felt sorry for Jacques. There was nothing I could do to help him.

At least I knew that The King was alive.

That man was much worse that him.

He was crazier and more braver.

"Wait!" Jacques yelled. "I know a man in Hong Kong. He's like me but only more brilliant. He can do what you need!"

"Thank you for that information, Jacques but he's also useless. I'm going to try my luck in Korea next. Maybe that'll help me but for now I'm afraid that you've outlived your usefulness. It's nothing personal. Just business."

"I'm begging you!"

"Sorry, Jacques. It's the Kings orders. I do what I must," he said with a steel voice. "Pleasure doing business with you."

What I heard next would haunt me for years to come. It was the most inhuman scream I ever heard, you could Jacques from where I was. It was like his soul was being ripped away from his body as his heart was being crushed.

The screaming dialed down to painful moans and then silence as he fell back with a thud as his body to hit the floor.

"It's so hard to find help these days," The Prince sighed. "I had so many plans for this city. What a pity that they'll have to be delayed."

There was only the sound of the bass from the  club as the silence took over. My hands were over my mouth so that I wouldn't have made a single sound.

Imagine what he could do to me since I was basically neutralized with these cuffs. Only someone with Level eight clearance could get these cuffs off me and she was too drunk at the moment to do so.

"To the little scamp listening in on this." I froze as he addressed me. I knew he couldn't see me but he could sense me.  "I can cause much worse pain for you if you pursue me. Just a little warning. Ciao, darling. Go report back to whoever it is that you work for."

Just like that, he was gone and he had left a body in his wake.

It took a minute for me to get up and use my legs. I stumbled out of there as the guard raised an eyebrow at me.

I didn't have the energy to glare at him one bit.

Suddenly, I was back in the real world with a swarm of bodies in front of me.

I was back.

I felt my heat raced and my knees shake as people brushed passed me. This night was too much as it was.

I opted to walked around the dance floor, awkwardly stumbling. It was so odd how my anxiety was like an on switch. When I was on a mission, I ignored all factors and worked my way through but once the mission was over--Bam! Back to my annoying and awkward self in social situations.

I knew this was bad.

I had to kick it or I couldn't operate in the field. I wouldn't always be out on a stealth mission. Maybe I would be undercover and I would have to interact with people. What would I do then? Stand in a corner as the target passes me by?

Maybe I should go to Dr. Franz. His cheerfulness was off putting but at least he seemed willing to help.

When I got to my seat, my hands were trembling and it wasn't from the anxiety this time. I hid them underneath the table so that Bucky and Natasha wouldn't see them.

"Where were you, sunshine?" Bucky asked me as he looked up from his drink.

"Ladies room," I responded. "Where's America's Golden Boy and Sokovia's hedgehog?"

"Steve gave up trying to dance and is too busy sulking st the bar. Pietro is.....you know what. I don't want to know what he's doing," Natasha said. "I said we call it a night."

"It's one a.m."

"Fine. We'll call it the day. Happy?"

"I suppose so," I shrugged.

I really hoped that Steve could help me support two drunk and heavy former Russian assassins.

"This had been a very strange night."

"No kidding," Natasha slurred.

---------

While Maya was awkwardly attending a club, Stark took the opportunity to basically snoop through he stuff like an overprotective mom looking for weed in her sons closet.

"This is ridiculous, Stark," Pietro said just racing back from the club to inform Stark about Maya's whereabouts.

"What are you two doing?" Wanda asked as she walked into the room.

"Were trying to find information on Ice Princess," Stark said as he checked the book shelfs.

"You can't just go through her stuff like this," Sam said. He leaned against the door frame giving Stark a disapproving look. "I know you don't like her but this is too much, man."

"Look. I'm just saying that you should look for something that might give us some information and that we have an obligation to know about our team mate."

"Bullshit," Pietro coughed into his fist.

"You got something to say, Speedy Gonzales?"

"No. Nothing. Just snooping around one of team mates stuff behind her back."

Tony noticed how many old books she had, most of them in various languages. Some that looked like they could fall apart any moment and some that were fresh from the press.

Pietro flitted around the room, covering more ground. Wanda felt a small part of guilt as she looked at the photos on Mays's nightstand. There was a picture of a women in her mid thirties with a younger version of Maya on her lap and what could only be concluded as her mother. Odd that they shared the same eye color, such a sweet brown. That was the only resemblance other than the shape of their faces. 

She placed it back gingerly before moving on towards the curtains.

Why was she here?

Pietro may have defended her but he was searching her room because he was a curious little shit. That wasn't surprising. he was always the nosy one ever since he was a child.

Wanda didn't like how cold and distant Maya was from the team. It was odd to see someone so untrusting and calculated. It unnerved her that such pretty eyes looked so dead.

She moved onto the curtains, looking for something that she didn't know about. Carefully, she drew each one back, showing off the Manhattan skyline.

Wanda kept pulling the curtains back until she no longer say the skyline but the world map.

"This is definitely suspicious," Stark said.

"She researched all this by herself?" Sam said as he scanned over it. "All this?"

"What hell is she doing with all this?" Pietro asked as he plucked a picture from the wall. "She's after someone or something."

"This makes no sense. Why would she keep track of all these people? These are some very high profile people. Who's she looking for?"

Tony didn't understand it and he didn't like it. She should have at least shared it with the team.

"That's a good question, Stark," a familiar voice said. Everyone turned around to look around. "But allowed me to asked a better question."

Maya walked into the room with the God of Mischief in tow, Captain America and the Russian gang plus one.

"What the fuck are you doing in my room, Mr. Stark?"