A/N: It's been a while, but here's an update. Thank you so, so much for everyone who reviewed!

The Blink Effect: Chapter Four
The Girl Who Fell from Calcutta

I managed to avoid death-by-Black-Widow by pleasantly surprising the woman with my actual professional skill. (Proof that all that time spent in training wasn't completely wasted.) I managed to contain myself from acting a fool while we discussed the mission parameters, and had actual valid input on the plan of action. Considering that Agent Romanoff's scowl eased slightly in intensity once I displayed competency, I figured that she wasn't too likely to hurt me until after our mission was complete.

Of course, as soon as we'd finished talking business, my mouth had free reign.

Contrary to popular belief, I do actually enjoy silence. It's one of my favorite things, truthfully. I could sit in silence for hours and quite enjoy it if I felt so inclined, and I was in no way opposed to silence between two people. However, what I could not stand was awkward silence: the kind that eats away at you like acid and makes you squirm in your seat like a third grader with ADHD. Silence in a conversation with someone I didn't know drove me wild. I hated it. There's just something about sitting in silence with someone you know really well -knowing that you can be comfortable with them and that you're on the same level- that just makes empty silence seem like a cheap parody of something that could have been beautiful, once. So naturally, when Agent Romanoff decided not to talk to me for the rest of the flight -I'd offered to teleport us closer to Calcutta, but she declined my offer, citing a need for the plane on the return trip as she didn't want to push Banner through a rip in spacetime if she could possibly avoid it, which I agreed with- I sort of just… blurted the first thing that crossed my mind.

When I'm not playing Agent, I actually have a terrible brain-to-mouth filter. Darcy and I got along well because of that.

"You're less… pointy, than I thought you'd be," I informed the redhead somewhat thoughtfully.

The woman glanced at me incredulously. We were alone in the back of the quinjet, the only other person aboard being the pilot all the way up in the cockpit. (Our team for the mission would meet us at our destination.) Still, it seemed that Romanoff could hardly believe my gall in addressing her in such a way.

"Pointy?" she drawled, making her displeasure with the comment very clear indeed. I got the feeling that she was only tolerating me because she was too tired to make me shut up.

I nodded. "Yeah," I told her, cocking my head to the side and openly inspecting her. "I haven't been an agent for very long, but even I've heard of the Black Widow. You're different, though, from what they say."

Immediately, the woman tensed up and glared at me. "And how would you know that?" she asked coldly.

It was more than a little terrifying.

"It's difficult to put into words," came my admittance. I was totally undeterred from speaking. Even if the woman hit me for this, it was preferable to her broody silence. "Language is funny that way. We have words for almost everything except the things that are important," I mused before allowing a bit of earnestness to shine through my eyes. "I read an article once though, and the reporter, Joseph Land, said that 'People with edges take up space; that they give us a reason to talk, to wonder, to think. People with edges can alter their surroundings, as opposed to having their surroundings alter them,' and you remind me of that. I heard you compared to a knife once, but you feel less like something with a single sharp edge and more instead like a bunch of different shapes that just is, to me. And I'm very good at reading people."

For a moment after that, Romanoff just stared at me, and I stared right back. I liked this silence better, knowing that the woman was processing my words (or even just trying to decipher what in the hell I was actually talking about, considering I wasn't exactly coherent a lot of the time), even if I could detect no signs of contemplation on her perfectly neutral features.

"And you," she finally replied, "are less of an airhead and more someone who knows the value of being underestimated."

Well, can't argue with that. It was completely true.

"People are less inclined to bother me when they're convinced I'm a step short of insane," I admitted freely. I wasn't stupid enough to lie to the Black Widow. "And I find that I rarely care to know people who behave differently towards someone they aren't trying to impress. If they don't think you can be reasoned with, it's easier to do as you please."

"And say as you please," she scoffed, lips curling up infinitesimally at the corners.

That was as good as getting her to laugh out loud. Seeing the motion, I felt oddly proud. Sure, I was weird, but I'd drawn this woman's attention off of her current situation and at least somewhat amused her. Considering that this was a woman who prided herself on her own emotional control, I immediately gave Romanoff a warm smile and myself about thirty-six mental pats on the back for completing Mission: Impossible.

Take that, Tom Cruise. Who's the top agent now?

Me. That would undoubtedly be me.

"Exactly. I knew there was a reason I liked you," I said with a lazy wink. "Besides the aesthetic appeal, of course."

My new companion rolled her eyes at me. "Of course."

But I knew she thought I was funny, and I knew that she knew that I knew she thought I was funny.

The silence after that wasn't awkward anymore.

I enjoyed it so much, in fact, that from the moment our quinjet landed outside of Calcutta, I did my best to maintain it by avoiding speaking outside of a professional capacity -which turned out to be only once or twice anyways, as Romanoff strutted right up to the team assigned to us for the mission and began issuing orders like she was Her Majesty the Royal Empress of the Universe or something. It was actually kind of hot, in a please-don't-hurt-me kind of way. Since we'd already agreed on a plan of action in the quinjet, I only inserted myself into the conversation with the new team -a heavily-built collection of very solemn ex-military men- when I decided that it would put needless strain on Romanoff's temper for them to make her repeat herself.

"Look," I snapped at them, startling a couple as if they had expected me to remain completely silent the entire time. (I mean sure, I was totally Romanoff's sidekick in this situation and she really didn't need the help, but that didn't mean I was just a cardboard cutout propped up behind her.) "Agent Romanoff told you to remain at a good distance from the site and only intervene if there's an incident; though I personally wouldn't recommend trying to shoot the Hulk. I don't care if you approve of the plan or not, and I very seriously doubt that Agent Romanoff does either," came my reprimand. Agent Remeshkumar didn't like that he and his men were essentially benched for the mission. I didn't know why he was surprised. It's not like the Black Widow would fail to bring in a mark, even if that mark was Bruce Banner. "You're to maintain a perimeter to keep the civilians away from the area. In the case of an appearance by the Hulk, I'll take care of the problem, and you're not to interfere. Follow orders and do your job, and let Agent Romanoff and I do ours."

Things moved a little quicker after that. The men did as asked, sent little Shreya -an orphan rescued earlier that month from a busted sex-trafficking ring by the local SHIELD agents- out to collect the mark, and the Black Widow and I settled in to wait inside the house on the outskirts of the city that had been selected for the mission.

"I don't need your help, Agent," Romanoff told me stiffly.

Almost against my will, I smirked a little. "I know," I assured her. "I was just bored. But just so you know; if things go south, I still have your back."

Romanoff didn't reply. She just stared at me until our comms went off, Rameshkumar's voice told us that Shreya and Banner were sighted on approach, thirty seconds out.

Suddenly, Shreya was in and out -running into the house and straight through the window- and Bruce Banner was standing in front of us in the dark room, muttering about getting paid up front.

I would have laughed if the situation weren't so serious.

"You know, for a man who's supposed to be avoiding stress, you picked a hell of a place to settle," Romanoff commented, stepping out of the shadows and approaching our mark. I followed just behind her and leaned casually up against a table, watching Banner evenly. He was an unassuming guy, but I was still a little nervous. I knew very well why I'd been sent with the Widow on this mission. With my powers, I -and anyone with me, by extension- was one of the few people on the planet with a good chance of surviving an encounter with the Hulk. That didn't mean I was infallible, however, but it did ease my mind to know that this would work. I'd seen it before, after all.

Banner took a step back. "Avoiding stress isn't the secret," he said, watching us carefully. I didn't blame him. We were sketchy as hell.

Romanoff's features were the picture of polite interest. "Then what is it?" She smirked. "Yoga?"

"You two brought me to the edge of the city," came the reply, completely ignoring the question. "Smart." Banner was smiling in the fake sort of way that made me want to smack him as he moved towards the window to peer out into the night. "I uh… assume the whole place is surrounded?"

I snorted a bit at that. "Of course it is," I said reasonably. "Not that it would make a difference if we pissed you off, of course, but it makes our boss feel better."

Romanoff shot me a glare for mouthing off -totally hypocritical of her, by the way- but Banner at least seemed to appreciate the blunt honesty and quirked his lips at me wryly. "And your actress buddy?" he asked. "Is she a spy too? They start that young?"

"I did," the redhead answered simply.

The casualness of the two words nearly made me cringe. What had happened to Romanoff was beyond the pale. It spoke to just how horrific her life had been that she could even say it so easily. I forced myself not to react though. Shreya's situation was completely different to Romanoff's and each of us in the room knew it. Banner was stalling.

This was evident in the way he didn't even pause in his interrogation. "Who are you?"

"Natasha Romanoff." Damn, girl didn't even blink.

"Luciana Schafer," I added for good measure, giving the man my most stunning smile.

Banner smiled back grimly. "Are you here to kill me, Miss Romanoff? Miss Schafer? Because that's not gonna work out for everyone."

Quick to reassure him, Romanoff frowned at the question. "No, no, no. Of course not," she said glibly, taking a step closer to the man as I watched. "We're here on behalf of SHIELD."

This, at least, gave Banner pause. He blinked. "SHIELD." Romanoff just blinked back, studying him. It was actually freaking me out a little how innocent she looked right now, all smooth skin and doe-eyes. Our mark, however, appeared rightly unconcerned and pinned her with an intense look. "How'd they find me?"

"We never lost you, Doctor," she informed him, as if it were obvious. "We've kept our distance- even kept some other interested parties off your scent."

"You're a hot commodity, dude," I added, inspecting my nails disinterestedly (though I was far from disinterested). "As I'm sure you're well aware, not all of said parties are strictly good. You can understand why SHIELD would be interested in keeping you away from them, and Nick Fury seems to trust you enough to make sure you're left alone by even us."

Romanoff nodded. "But now we need you to come in," she said seriously.

A muscle in Banner's jaw jumped as it clenched, and I mentally sighed as the man's eyes grew defiant. I really hated tiptoeing around this man, but it was necessary until he agreed to work with us, as frustrating as it may be. "And if I say no?"

In return, Romanoff's smile grew just as fake as Banner's had been earlier. "I'll persuade you."

Yeah. So glad I wasn't on the receiving end of that look. It was actually impressive that the person I most feared in the room with the Hulk was the Black Widow.

Banner stepped right up close to us, alternating his solemn gaze between us. To make it easier for him (because I'm just a nice person like that), I pushed off from the table and took a step forward to I was shoulder-to-shoulder with Romanoff. I felt better about my chances of saving her life if it came to it, this way.

"And what if the… other guy, says no?" he asked, neither myself or my partner missing the implied threat in the words.

And I didn't appreciate it. "Let's just say that you're not the only 'special' one in this room, Banner, and I can run real fast," I cooed, smiling dangerously. I could get away from the Hulk. Probably. "Besides. You don't want an incident this close to where someone could get hurt again, do you Doctor?"

Banner scowled and backed away a bit. "Well I don't every time get what I want," he said darkly, leaning up against a stool and staring off to the side.

I almost winced again. No, he didn't, did he? What was with all the allusions to the tragic backstories today? It was making me feel weepy when I shouldn't be.

I was close enough to Romanoff to see the tiny crease that appeared between her eyebrows then, and I knew she didn't like how this mission was going so far. "Doctor, we're facing a potential global catastrophe," she reported, her tone going from smooth and pleasant to something decidedly more urgent.

Banner laughed bitterly. "Well those I actively try to avoid."

Romanoff ignored him. Instead, she pulled up an image of a very familiar object on her phone. "This," she said, pacing away and placing the phone down on the table and walking right back to my side, "is the Tesseract. It has the potential energy to wipe out the planet."

I smiled lightly as Banner immediately stood and went to investigate the picture, adjusting his glasses and clearly intrigued in spite of himself. "It's powerful," I sighed rather wistfully. My voice then hardened. "And that, unfortunately, means dangerous."

We watched in silence as Banner picked up the phone and studied the image. "What does Fury want me to do- swallow it?" he finally asked.

He couldn't fool me, though. I knew he was intrigued. You could take the man out of the lab, but never the nerd out of the man. "He wants you to find it," I said simply. "It was stolen by… a very bad man. Fortunately, it's got a bit of a signature."

Romanoff moved to sit across from where Banner was standing at the table and looked up at him imploringly. "It emits a gamma signature that's too weak for us to trace. There's no one that knows gamma radiation like you do. If there was," Her mouth twisted ironically. "that's where I'd be."

Banner quirked an eyebrow. "So Fury isn't after the monster."

"Not that he's told me," she replied, sitting back in her chair.

"And he tells you everything?"

"You really think he'd risk it? I shot back. "Fury needs you for this."

"He needs me in a cage?"

I rolled my eyes. Good god, this was painful.

Romanoff handled the man's stubbornness with more grace, pitching her voice to its most soothing and saying, "No one's gonna put you in a-"

Bam. Banner brought his palms forcefully down on the table. "Stop lying to me!" he shouted.

Instantly, Romanoff reacted, yanking her gun from God-knows-where and pointing it directly at Banner's head.

Well, it would have been directly at Banner's head if I hadn't opened a portal directly beneath our feet and dropped us off a good fifteen feet away on the opposite side of the room, causing the woman to stumble. To be fair, Romanoff hadn't ever experienced -only witnessed- my unique brand of locomotion before, and she corrected her aim almost instantly. I was more concerned with the fear I could see in her eyes. I understood it, of course. There was no defense she could muster against the Hulk. The woman was relying entirely on me for her survival, and I got the feeling she really didn't even like me all that much.

I'd shocked Banner though, too. For a moment, all any of us did was stare at each other. Rameshkumar was in our ears, asking if we needed backup, but neither I nor Romanoff acknowledged him. Banner recovered first though and straightened up with a small smile. "I'm sorry. That was mean. I just wanted to see what you'd do." Romanoff hadn't moved. She was still holding her gun steady, her eyes still afraid. "Neat trick though, Schafer. I can see why they sent you."

Slowly, I reached out and touched my fingertips to Romanoff's wrist. I didn't dare put even an ounce of pressure on her skin, but my silent request for her to lower the gun was very clear. "Let's just… all settle down," I suggested softly. "No shouting, and no guns. Wouldn't want things to get messy now, would we? No sense in ruining a perfectly good house by playing rough." My eyes were fixed firmly on Banner, who nodded in acquiescence.

Slowly, Romanoff lowered the gun at my side, murmuring an order for the perimeter team to stand down. She was very close to me, I realized suddenly. Closer than she'd been when I'd first brought us through the portal. I could feel the nervous heat of her body against my skin now, and I hadn't even noticed her move. It was disconcerting to know that the woman had increased our proximity because she thought I could protect her in this situation. She barely knew me, but she trusted me enough for this, at least. I'd worked with other agents who'd done the same on missions, of course, but Romanoff was a completely different level of badass. I frankly felt a little bad for feeling flattered by this trust -because this situation was less than ideal- but I did anyways.

I was definitely going to keep that little tidbit to myself though. Forever.

Once there was a mutual agreement not to fuck with each other in place, things went smoother. A combination of an appeal to his conscience and curiosity finally swayed Banner to our way of seeing things, and he agreed to come with us back to SHIELD to help track down the Tesseract. The backup team gave us a lift to where we'd left the pilot and the quinjet, and Romanoff dismissed them summarily as we all three piled into the aircraft without further incident.

After twenty minutes of flying, however, I decided that I'd been professional for quite long enough and fished my ipod out of one of the many pockets in my cargo pants. Being a secret agent, I carried a lot of neat toys. (Though the Quartermaster didn't think it was funny when I called him Q the day I signed out my equipment.) My phone was beyond futuristic, and was tricked out to the level that it performed better than most civilian computers, could scan and decode keypad locks, detect incoming ballistics, connect to the SHIELD information databanks for my clearance level (7, because despite my newness my very nature afforded me privileges) from almost any corner of the earth, and scan and process data on its own. I also carried a small screen that appeared to be a simple strip of flexible plastic when deactivated, but could be strapped to my wrist and used as a global GPS for the planet that included most coordinates for SHIELD vehicles in the air, on land, or in the sea with coordinates in real time. This piece was unique to myself, because of my powers. I relied heavily on visualization to place my portals, but I didn't necessarily have to have been to a location to visualize it. (Having been there before just made it about a hundred times easier to go there.) Most times, a set of coordinates input into my wrist navigator would present me an image of the desired area that I could use to squeak by and create a wormhole to. This was especially important for moving vehicles, as I was given their precise speed and trajectory alongside the image. (I did not want to make a mistake and end up in the turbines of a cargo ship or something equally as horrible.) I carried two SHIELD issued handguns, a tiny set of flash grenades and tear gas canisters, and two nightsticks that delivered an electric jolt with the push of a button. Hell, I had about sixteen knives of various sizes and make stashed away in my pockets, and even two in hidden slots in the the heels of my combat boots. All in all, I was a very well-armed young lady.

SHIELD had given me some pretty creepy habits.

The ipod, though, was mine. I didn't have to spend the money I was earning on a lot of things, now. SHIELD gave me board, and I could eat whenever and whatever I wanted in the mess hall. I didn't even have a very extensive wardrobe, considering that I was dressed for work about ninety percent of the time. (The dress code, oddly enough, was one of the few rules that I absolutely and strictly adhered to.) So I indulged myself a bit with music, collecting hours and hours of material on the object I was currently plugging into the internal speakers after having grown bored with lounging about in the back of the quinjet with nothing to do.

"Do you mind?" I asked my companions facetiously, a series of little pops sounding over the speakers as I rapidly scrolled through my playlists.

And just like that, Romanoff was glaring at me again, though I decided that it was with slightly less venom than before.

Slightly.

Banner just shrugged, and I took that as permission, clicking on my 60s-80s pop collection and grinning when the Rick Springfield's 'Jessie's Girl' started playing softly in the background. Unceremoniously, I then lay down across the floor between the benches that lined each side of the quinjet -upon one of which I had previously been seated next to Romanoff- and lounged quite comfortably on my back, humming and occasionally singing along with the chorus as the songs cycled along. This lasted for quite some time -through Aretha Franklin and Queen and the Jackson 5 and the Proclaimers and the Runaways- and even though both Banner and Romanoff were quiet, I knew they were listening to and enjoying the music. Their bodies had relaxed marginally, even if they never completely lost their tension.

It wasn't until The Temptations were singing 'My Girl' that Banner interrupted me. "According to you, the world's in danger, Schafer," he said softly. When I opened my eyes, I saw that he was gazing at me with genuine curiosity. "Why are you laying on the floor singing?"

In my peripheral vision, I noted the carefully neutral expression on the Black Widow's face and wondered if she was upset with my attitude, considering the personal stake she had in this battle already.

I thought about my response for a minute, gauging how honest an answer the man wanted. "Well," I started slowly. "Terrible things happen every day. To good people, more often than not." I sat up and went cross-legged, leaning up against the bench a few inches away from Romanoff's legs so I could face Banner. She watched me impassively, while Banner looked more interested in what I had to say. "I know better than anyone what it feels like to have everything you've ever known and loved ripped out from under you in what seems like an instant, and to be left with absolutely nothing. But the trick is remembering that you never really do have nothing. Because otherwise you're just miserable for what little life you have left, and you hate yourself, and you hate the world for making you that way, and that's no way to live. That's just letting the rest of the world win. So I figure that if you find something -no matter how small or stupid- to be happy about every day, you'll always have that, even if everything else is taken away from you and you're completely remade into someone you don't even recognize," I related with a shrug. "If I die tomorrow, I don't want to have already been in mourning today."

"That's very profound for someone so young," Banner commented, though I could see his mind mulling the conversation over carefully.

I just smiled sadly at him. "How old I am has nothing to do with how I look, Dr. Banner. People don't carry years on the outside."

"Well that you're wrong about," he teased, gesturing to his own features.

I laughed, tickled by the man's awkward, depressing sort of humor. "I'm sure you'll age very gracefully, Doctor," I assured him. "All that yoga's gotta be good for something, yeah?"

"Yeah."

After that, we went back to listening to the music. I smiled serenely, closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the bench and resumed my gentle humming. I could feel Romanoff's eyes on me then, practically drilling holes into the side of my head, but I didn't acknowledge her. If she had something to say, she'd say it.

She didn't say anything.