Disclaimer: This fanfiction has been written by a fan for fans. I do not own any of the characters or make profit from the story. This is simply written for enjoyment.


Hawks and Spiders

1. Another Call

It was night by now and the rain was hitting hard. His fingers already felt numb and his cheeks and nose were flushed red from the cold.

'About to come.', the voice in his earphone announced. 'Be wary.'

Because I wasn't., he thought annoyed. He steadied himself, pulled out an arrow from his quiver and aimed.

'Ready?', the voice asked.

'Yeah.', he answered raw, looking through the scope of his bow.

'It left the building.', the voice said.

He narrowed his eyes. In that moment he saw a figure running out of the building. The target.

There you are., he smiled. He stretched his bow, aiming at the target.

A long silence followed and all the voice heard was the archer breathing.

'Did you get her Barton?', the voice asked impatiently. 'Barton, she should be within your range by now. Barton!'

'Shut up Coulson!', he hissed as he focused on his target.

Something was strange and Coulson did nothing but bother him.

He didn't have anything against him in person. No, actually he could be quite fun at times but he hated hearing him now. Now where he had to eliminate a dangerous spy. He was no help. He could've done this all by himself but Fury had told him to take someone with him.

He had snorted when he heard that but Fury remained serious. That was when he grew suspicious. Director Fury had never asked him to go on a mission with a partner. Never ever.

Fury trusted his skills. He knew how much Clint hated going on missions with 'partners' and he was known among the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents as a loner.

Clint huffed at that with amusement. Yet Fury insistedon taking someone with him.

So he decided to take Coulson with him. Coulson who would be as much help as anyone else. None at all.

'No, Clint I have to keep an eye on-' He plugged the earphone out and smashed it under his foot. He needed to fully concentrate on his target now.

There had to be a reason why Fury sent him to kill that spy. Sure, he was an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., that was his job. But it was more than just suspicious that Fury would send one of his best alongside a partner when he clearly knew that his best preferred working alone.

The target had stopped running by now and was soaked wet from the rain. She looked aimlessly around herself, you'd think she was desperate.

Desperate?

'A black widow?', he had asked.

'The black widow.' he remembered Fury explain. 'She was one of the team of elite female sleeper agents who were trained in combat and espionage by the KGB.' Fury had eyed him up, a little nosily.

'She was trained since childhood and has become one of the most dangerous master assassins...Just like you.'

Clint had looked at him, slightly questioning. 'Aren't you exaggerating?'

Director Fury was hiding something. There was much more to this aim than he had told him for sure.

The target had found him in that minute and was directly staring at the archer who was pointing his weapon at her.

Clint watched her through his scope and to his surprise found pure horror in her eyes. She wasn't moving, only staring.

The ex army hero had also told him before that she was an excellent actress and a skilled seductress. Never failing in persuading her victims.

He frowned. There was no use in standing mute in his aim. His vision must've been blurred by the distance from above and the rain.

Then again he saw better from a distance and he could tell that there was clear fear in her eyes.

An emotionless criminal who had no will of its own but simply obeyed. And yet he saw the worst and probably strongest emotion of the human being on her face.

Just then he noticed her bloodied tunic and injuries. He lowered his bow.

She blinked a few times in confusion and that was when she seemed to have come back to her senses because all of a sudden she began to run. With enormous speed she ran into the direction of the building to his left.

Damn it!

The expert marksman could've still shot her. But something prevented him from doing it right away.

He hinged his bow aside and grabbed the bars of the tower he stood on, took a leap of faith and jumped, landing on the ceiling of the other building.

In truth he cringed at the thought of killing her.

Why?

Maybe because of the horrible emotion he saw in her eyes.

Maybe because of the blood stained hospital tunic she wore.

Maybe because of the fact that she was standing there, defenceless.

Clint ran rapidly, cursing himself, to the edge of the ceiling.

No, it were Fury's words that disturbed him.

'Just like you.'

It was a small hint he had given him. A hint that the agent chose to ignore before, because he knew it would hinder him to end this mission at some point.

Clint cursed Nick Fury for giving him that hint.

The agent jumped off the ceiling grabbing hold of a wet rope and sliding down. His gloves protected his hands only little from the burning feeling that followed on his palms.

'Just like you.'

So she must have been forced into this life.

The agent was now standing on a windowsill. He took a deep breath, hid his face behind his arms as he jumped down, shattering the glass of another barred old window.

He cursed again, crawling up from the floor. His arms had several scrapes because of the sharp glass shards.

The marksman narrowed his eyes, tried to find her in the dark. At least he was save from the rain for now.

He wouldn't kill her.

Not until he knew what exactly was going on.

Then he saw the white tunic and red hair floating and he took track of her again.

Adrenaline pulsing through his veins as he ran again, pushing all the obstacles out of his way and breaking anything that might have stopped him.

The target was quick and kept changing her direction, hoping he'd lose her soon.

To her detriment he didn't loose her. It was too late when she finally found herself in front of a fence and behind her the killer set on her. He reached for his bow and an arrow, pointed them at her with fake determination.

Here they were.

Both exhausted and tired. Bloodied and battered.

Her expression was very different now than from what he had seen the first time he had zeroed his weapon at her.

This time there was no fear. No fear but stoutness. A brave but still tired look.

And then he did what neither of them expected. He put his arrow back into the quiver and held his hands up in surrender, his bow still in his hand. She looked up and frowned, her breath heavy and uneven.

The assassin had her right where he needed her to be and was about to leave her the second time?

She had troubles with holding her balance.

What was it that had changed Clint Barton's mind in this precarious situation?

'You are not who I've been told you are.', he explained, more to himself than to her.

The whole situation was too suspicious. From what he knew she was Russian, so he wasn't sure anyway if she would understand.

Then tears formed in her eyes and she chuckled bitterly. 'I'm not who I've been told I am either.', she replied in fluent English.

Clint had been right.

She wasn't the black widow she was trained to be.

Still though, shemeant something different than he meant.

The Russian girl just then passed out and he caught her in his arms.


AN:

Thank you very much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Apologies for mistakes me and my beta might've have overseen (as we are no native speakers).

Reviews would be appreciated ^^ and fave and follow if you'd like to continue on reading this. :)

Tata guys xX See ya next chap haha.