He had found her at a party in the capital city of Slovenia.
The notorious Black Widow.
His target.
He was sitting on a leather sofa, one of three lined along the back wall of the chamber. Watching the crowd in masses around him. Watching them eat, and talk, and laugh. Watching intensely for her.
He swung one leg over the other, and draped an arm over the back of the seat.
He was wearing a suit for the first time in years.
A waiter came round and offered him a glass of champagne. I guess it's one of those kind of parties, he thought to himself. But said no to the drink.
There was a long mahogany table running down the center of the hall. Completely covered with any combination of food you can imagine. Hell, there were even diamond chandeliers overhead!
Director Fury had assigned him the mission last night. At some inhuman time as usual. And if he was feeling particularly paranoid, he would say that Fury got some kind of unspoken joy out of it too.
He wouldn't be back until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest.
"Excuse me," he said to the waiter who had hardly left. "On second thoughts, I think I'll have that glass of champagne."
It wasn't long before he spotted her. The distinctive red hair was the thing he was looking out for. And there she was on the other side of the room, sitting at the table, and talking to someone.
He leaned forward to get a closer look.
She was wearing a knee length red dress with a generous amount of cleavage. And some sort of jewellery around her neck.
He was surprised for a moment at how attractive she was. But then reminded himself that she was a trained killer and had been paid to assassinate the host of this party.
He kept his eyes fixed on her until she finally left her present company, and stated to walk in the direction of the exit.
"Show time," he said to himself, getting up from the sofa. He put the half empty glass of champagne on the table when he got there, making sure not to lose sight of her.
She seemed to be heading outside, so Agent Barton quickly followed.
"I've got him." she said into her phone.
He could just about overhear this from the corridor. They were both leaning against different sides of the same wall.
"Yes," she said irritably into her phone.
He slid his gun out from the strap at his waist.
"No complications."
And he held his breath and made his move.
He caught her by surprise and knocked her to her feet, and before she could think he hit her again.
When Black Widow awoke she found herself tied to a chair. Her arms bound behind her back, and her legs tied right in front of her.
She looked around, although she still felt light-headed. She seemed to be in some kind of abandoned warehouse.
No complications, she reminded herself.
"What's your name?" Clint Barton asked, slowly making his way out of the shadows.
"The people who hired you must have told you already." she answered, raising her eyebrows. Bent on examining her captor.
He examined her too. And realised how much he was drawn to her pouty red lips and elegant figure. God she's attractive, he thought to himself.
"Nadia Resnik isn't your real name." he stated, twirling a gun by his side. But all she did was smile at him and stare. The atmosphere in the room was completely relaxed. Something that only spies could feel at either end of an interrogation.
"Alright then, we'll just go with Kim Possible for now. Look you've got the hair and everything."
And they both smiled at that.
"This may be the ultimate age old question, but who are you working for?" she asked him curiously.
"S.H.I.E.L.D." he replied.
She then shook her head and sighed like she should have known.
"And what does a mildly secret organisation run by a pirate want with me?"
He snorted for a moment.
"You've got a lot of blood on your hands, Miss Resnik." he told her, his heavy footsteps echoing round the chair.
"I do what I can to survive." she informed him with an innocent shrug.
"Too much blood for just survival."
"Well clearly you haven't been to Russia. Can you at least stop walking in circles, you're making me dizzy."
Was it strange that he found her assertive manner even more appealing?
"They want you gone."
"And by gone you mean-"
"Eliminated."
"I heard that they've been keeping an eye on me." she said to him.
He stopped walking suddenly, and shifted closer to her chair.
"From who?"
"Friends."
"You don't have any friends according to our records."
"Enemies at a disadvantage then." she admitted with a playful smirk.
"I've heard you have quite a few of those."
Even when he turned his back to her he could feel her glare. And then he started walking again.
"I don't suppose I can buy you off with a night of impulsive sex, Agent? You don't really look like the type to accept."
"The type?" he asked, amused.
"Well you've got a particular one. You know, outrageously handsome, but with an appealing dark side. Too much of a martyr to deny his orders. Too much of a humanitarian to act on blind faith."
He smirked.
"Well that's very specific." he added.
"I read people. That's my job."
"You're an assassin."
"Is that what S.H.I.E.L.D. are calling me now?"
"Well that's how you got on their radar in the first place."
"You must have plenty banging down your door already, without needing me to entertain you." she said, mischievously.
"Plenty of what?" he asked her, confused.
"Women." she stated.
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" he asked her, almost enjoying this little game.
"Take it anyway you like." she added with a flirtatious giggle, leaning back further into the chair.
Wait a second, this is a mission, he reminded himself.
"I'm here to kill you, Miss Resnik." he affirmed.
"Right." she smiled with a nod.
Very subtly she rubbed her elbow against the side of her dress.
"Uh, uh, uh." He shook a finger at her and grinned.
"You took my pen knife from my underwear while I was unconscious?" she asked him, surprised.
"I'm very thorough." he told her moving closer.
Mission, Barton, think! But he didn't know at this point if he could-
"Clearly. You're not reconsidering my offer I hope?" she said, raising an eyebrow.
He pointed his gun at her.
"Well go ahead then, soldier. Don't be shy." she coaxed him, still completely calm.
"I heard that the infamous Black Widow never surrenders."
"Well you heard right." she told him
And he was confused for a moment.
She titled her head slightly.
What is she-
But by the time he had caught on it was too late.
She kicked him hard in the shins, sending him backwards, then knocked him to the floor with a blow to the head. By the time he had recovered, she was already standing above him smiling, with his gun in her right hand, and his S.H.I.E.L.D. ID card in her left.
"You know I'm really starting to like you, Agent Barton." she stated with genuine interest. Staring down at him from an advantage point this time.
He glanced over at the grated rope lying in the middle of the floor. She had cut through it with her high heels, and Agent Barton couldn't help but feel a little proud of her creativity.
Well she isn't called a master assassin for nothing, he thought to himself.
"Well gee, thanks." he replied, and then reached inside his pocket as innocently as he could. But it was empty.
"Uh, uh, uh." she said teasingly, pouting her lips in a very provocative manner.
"You took my pocket knife?" he asked, more intrigued with this woman than surprised.
"While you were doing your circling eagle impression, and got too close to your prey," she explained, giving him these suggestive little looks.
She glanced at the ID card again.
"Or should I say hawk?" she asked him.
"I'm very thorough, Agent Barton," she added.
"Clearly," he said, studying her, just about as hard as she was studying him.
She smiled with a touche kind of feel to it. And with the same expression aimed the gun at him.
"I'm unarmed," he said, surprised at her sudden movement. Or maybe he was surprised at just how relaxedly she had made it. He raised his hands like it was all a joke. And maybe he felt just a little- Shut up! he thought to himself.
"Yeah but you screwed up my evening," she said to him saucily.
"And I'm really sorry about that," he told her with a lopsided smile. "Natalia."
That really caught her off guard. And that's all he needed.
He kicked the gun out of her hands in one fluid movement, catching it himself, and having the advantage once more.
He picked himself up slowly, the gun persistently pointed.
She raised her hands, looking truly vulnerable for the first time in this encounter.
"That's your name, Natalia Romanova?" he said taking small steps towards her, and slowly forcing her back.
"How did you-"
"S.H.I.E.L.D. has its perks," he shrugged.
"And how did S.H.I.E.L.D.," she started, trying to keep up a facade. But found she couldn't finish.
"X didn't clean up their mess as thoroughly as they thought they had. That part of your past, Miss Romanova, isn't on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s records. But obviously Fury knew, and I've seen glimpses of those case files. You haven't changed much." he told her.
He could see her composure stiffening, her eyes getting blinded by memories. Almost like she was going to start- Damn it, Barton! he thought to himself.
"The Red Room facility," he uttered, filling up the empty room with echoes. "What were you, fourteen?"
"Thirteen," she said. "But I started training years before then."
And he looked at her.
Really looked at her.
"Is this pity, Agent Barton?" she asked him playfully. Although nothing in her demeanor supported that tone.
He didn't answer.
"Because really, I thought better of you," she sneered.
And he was about to say something.
But there was a snap. And a boom. And suddenly a scream. Then nothing...
Authors Note: This is what happens when I spend all day in bed wearing my Marvel pyjamas! Any kind of review would be wonderful. Thanks for reading. (This is only chapter 1.)
