Surveillance · Y/n story by @marvelfan

The Bronx evening sky was a bruised purple, the kind of color that promised rain and regret in equal measure.

Clint Barton

That her?

The agent beside him—a stern woman with a buzzcut and military bearing—didn't lower her scope.

Maria Hill

Purple hair, book bag, heading for the bodega. Matches the dossier.

Clint Barton

She a sophomore? a low whistle High school's changed since I was a kid.

Maria Hill

Focus, Barton. We need patterns. Associates. Anything that explains why her biometrics lit up five different threat-level assessments in the last three weeks.

She clicked her pen. Across the street, a girl with a cascade of deep violet hair stopped outside the corner store. She looked up at the sky. For a split second, her gaze seemed to drift directly toward the sedan.

Aged storekeeper

Hey, Y/n! Delivery came—that sci-fi novel you ordered?

The girl turned, the moment broken. She offered a small, easy smile, and pushed through the bodega door, the bell chiming a tinny note behind her.

Clint Barton

mutters Smart. Reading's good.