Disclaimer: I do not own anything. This is purely a product of my sick obsession with Black Widow and Hawkeye.
To potential Beta-readers: I am horribly bad at grammar, as you will quickly find out. If you are interested to help me improve this story, please PM. Your help will be credited and deeply appreciated.
Chapter 1 Captive
I locked my lips tightly with his. My tongue explored his warm cavern, teasingly and playfully.
Yet, there was no response from him.
I deepened the kiss. Snaking my arm around him, I pulled him closer. My red lock of hair brushed against his pale cheek.
He remained unwavering and unmoved by the passion that I was pouring into him.
I shrugged and decided that I needed to try a different approach. Without breaking the kiss, I flipped the small knife in my other hand and drove it into his lower left abdomen swiftly. Normally, I would have done this slowly, savoring the moment when the knife break through the resistance of the skin and then feeling the blade tearing through the tissues slowly and deliberately. But instead, at this moment, I just wanted a quick and raw reaction from this man. After 3 hours of getting nothing from him, I just wanted to break him.
As expected, his mouth immediately clamped down at my sudden attack. I pulled away, ravishing in pain and satisfaction. Licking my injured lips, I smiled with triumph, for I finally elicited a response from my stoic prisoner. "So what's your name, Stranger." I cooed like a child begging for a candy bar.
But only a low muffled grunt escaped my captive. His piercing smoky blue-gray eyes held steady.
"Tell me, Stranger. How long have you been following me?" I could see his arms, bounded behind a chair, tightened as the pain surged through his body. As much as I appreciated this pain that was rolling off of him like tidal waves, I had to get some answers. "Who sent you?" I leaned closer, whispered into his ear lovingly. "I could give you the sweetest death if you tell me." With one hand dancing lovely on his broad shoulder, I used my other hand to push the knife deeper until the full blade had disappeared into his flesh. I could feel the warm liquid flowing out at the knife's entry. I looked down and it resembled the redness of my hair. I love red.
His breath became shallow as he was trying to deal with the pain coming from the offensive object invading his flesh. However he still did not say anything. The short blond haired man in front of me was a well trained soldier.
"It doesn't have to be this painful." I marveled and frustrated at his strength and determination. If I pulled his fingernails piece by piece and then severed his fingers one by one, would he give up at least some information? Probably not. And besides, I prefer not to deal with the mess. I like the cleanness of a blade slashing through flesh. I sighed. Though it was such as waste, perhaps it would be best if I just ended him here….
It was subtle but I caught his eyes glancing at his bow lying at the corner of the room. I reacted immediately and kicked it further away from him. Just about when I tried to teach him a lesson of not to think anything funny, the door suddenly swung open behind me.
"My sweet black widow, please don't kill him just yet."
I did not turn around to see the newcomer. I didn't have to. Dr. Z's voice is ingrained into my memory. It carved out a special place that makes sure I would recognize him. My body was conditioned to obey at any of his whim. I straighten my back like a solider saluting to her commander. I suppressed a flinch as I felt him gently caressed my lower back. His touch was like fire burning into my flesh.
My captive, who seemed so devoid of emotion before, must have sensed the change in me. His smoky blue-eyes cleared and radiated with unhidden curiosity. I hated that shade of blue. For a moment, my captive opened his mouth as if wanted to say something but then closed back up as if he gave up that thought.
"I want you to take him to the chamber." Dr. Z said, as he placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. It took me every ounce of my energy to not shudder.
Dr. Z's words were cryptic and I did not let my confusion displayed on my face. Dr. Z wanted me to infiltrate this man's base. But there was no way I could do that, especially since I had tortured this man for the last 3 hours. I didn't quite understand how I could now gain his trust and frankly didn't see the point of infiltrating his base.
But just as I started to turn to make the case to end this man's life and tie the loose ends, out of the corner of my eyes, I caught my captive's sudden grin. I was shocked to see his arms broke free so easily from the bound. Before I could stop him, he pulled out the small knife from his abdomen and used that as a weapon to launch toward Dr. Z.
I cursed but immediately reacted. I cut between the man and Dr. Z. My mind did not dwell too long on how he could have endured my torture when his hands were already unbounded. I shuddered at his patience and tolerance of pain.
"I will leave it to you, my sweet Black Widow." Dr. Z took the chance and left the room swiftly. "Remember, the chamber." His voice echoed as he disappeared into the dark alley.
The man hissed, obviously dissatisfied that I was in his way.
Though I started to fight to prevent the man from pursuing Dr. Z, my mind raced as I tried to figure out how I was going to infiltrate his base.
Let's hope he has a heart.
I tried to slow him down with an attempted kick to his face and then ran past the door, knowing that the man would follow. With Dr. Z gone, this man should want to capture me instead for more information.
The sky had already turned from dark to light. The once sleepy street was starting to revive with early morning activities. As I ran through the alley, I kept tap of his now familiar footsteps pursuing after me. The irony of reversing the roles and having my captive pursing me never escaped me.
Running just a few steps faster than his, I scanned the area looking for prop. As if right on cue, a group of giggling small school girls turned in this alley. I grinned. The girls were still oblivious to my presence as I wasted no time and launched toward them like a mad man.
I aimed at the piggy tail girl with white and blue uniform. It took a second for the rest of the girls to see the shining knife in my hand. Their silent shock was quickly replaced by screams that startled the passers. But the commotion only aided me to advance with incredible precision. With the exception of the piggy tail girl encaged in my hand, the rest of the girls scattered like a flock of birds. In the midst of chaos, I firmly grabbed my target by the neck and swiftly turned her around to use her as my human shield. My knife rested dangerously at the base of her neck. My victim screamed with high piercing sound, her arms flapping around wildly with no purpose.
"Don't come any closer." I let my voice quivered just slightly, despite having full control of the situation. I needed to act convincingly but not so obvious that would trigger a suspicion from my audience.
My pursuer did not drop his knife. "You do not want to do that." He said evenly.
"You come as much as a step closer, her head will roll." I hissed. This time, I allowed my hand to tremble visibly.
The man studied me with intensity, despite the chaos and commotions around us. "I have seen how you spared Chan's daughter." The man slowly moved toward me. "You cannot and will not hurt her."
Inwardly, I smiled. So it was him who was spying me at the time. I had purposely let the girl live, not because of sympathy or compassion, but because I could sense a pair of eyes watching me. The feeling unnerved me. And the fact I couldn't exactly pin-point where the observer was hidden bothered me. I didn't particularly like to show-off my moves. I am a spy and assassin after all. I knew very well that having a heart is a dangerous thing. And it is clear that he mistakenly think I have a heart. I could use this to gain his trust.
I pushed the girl toward him and pretended to flee, fumbled a bit enough for him to catch my arm.
As expected, he twisted me around. His knife was now at my neck. The fact that he didn't immediate slash my throat with that weapon had up my chances of success by many folds.
I doubled down and stared at him with ferocious defiance, gambling to see whether he will end my life or take me to his base. At this time, either option actually sounded quite good. On one hand, I could be forever free from this life, from Dr. Z. On the other hand, if I successfully accomplished my mission as I was told, I could be spared from Dr. Z's wrath.
I stared into his blue-gray eyes. Unlike most men who watched me with lust, he looked at me as if he was trying to see the goodness in me. Part of me felt sorry for him and I briefly considered how he could have survived so long with that naïve attitude. Of course, he must have an easy life. Nothing like I had went through.
It was too bad that he didn't know that Red Room has already taken any lingering sympathy that I ever possessed. The day I strangled my training partner with my bare hands, just so that I could emerge as the sole victor, was the day that my heart has been diced away. We had trained and helped each other through the grueling process of conditioning us into the best soldiers. And when the order came to fight between us, we did what was told. We went at each other with full strength. No mercy. No lingering thoughts. And when I finally knocked her down with a solid round-about kick, I wasted no time to use my knee to crash her rib cages. I could never forget her, also at the tender age of 12 as me, staring back at me with her cold eyes. As I increased my grip around her neck, hearing the sound of her bones cracking and collapsing underneath me, she never broke away her eye contact. She never begged. Her impassive face never betrayed her thoughts. And at that moment I understood. If I showed anyone else compassion, if I hesitated even a second, I would have failed my training partner. Because I should not have been the victor that survived.
So right now, in order to accomplish my mission, I allowed my eyes to soften just a bit, as I stared at him. I allowed my captor to imagine any kind of compassion that he thought could find in me. I breathed hard, making sure that he could feel the warmth of my body and the movement of my chest. Sex appeal would not work on this man. I needed him to see the "goodness" in me.
At that exact moment, a loud and untimely mechanical squeak foiled my plan. I cursed inwardly at the command that came through from my captor's earpiece. I should have known someone else was observing. He must have a handler. With my body so close to him, I could hear every word. "Agent Barton, terminate Black Widow immediately and please return to base. We don't need her."
Registering the command, the obedient soldier tightened his grip and pressed the blade into my skin.
I closed my eyes. Perhaps the option of dying in his hand may not be so bad. But as I waited, the final blow never came. When the knife no longer pressed against me, I opened my eyes, just in time to catch him losing his grip and taking a step back.
"Negative. I will bring her in." My capturer said calmly, never taking his eyes off me.
I could hear mumbled but furiously sounding words coming through his earpiece. But he was no longer close to me enough for me to make out the words exactly.
"This is gonna sting a bit." Before I could even ask why, he suddenly declared and stabbed me with a syringe in my neck.
To my surprise, my last thought before I blacked out was his name.
Barton. I wonder what his first name is.