Hi again. This is another Clintasha fic, as I absolutely adore them together. Apparently I'm "

Disclaimer: As much as I'd love to own the Avengers, if I did, all we'd see in the films and comics would be the couples I ship in chick flick situations, so congrats to Stan Lee on not getting me involved. So again, I don't own ANY of these characters except Naddy, Luka, Sonja, Sergei and Jackson.


"Tell us where your daughter is Viper!" The man hissed at Sonja Burton as he slapped her across the face. The ex-red room member just smirked at him in response, there was no way in hell that she'd willingly hand her goddaughter over to these psychopaths.

At least they only think she's my daughter, she thought. God knows what they'd do if they discovered who her real parents were. She just hoped that Nadia stayed after school like she'd told Sonja she'd do. If she came back early, she'd be dead.

"Sergei, we're not going to get anything out of her."

Sergei sighed. His disciple was right; the Red Room had trained her too well. And she was our only lead on finding Natalia. He sighed. The boss wasn't going to be happy.

"I'll ask you once more," Sergei snarled in heavily accented English. "Or we will kill your daughter. We know Natalia helped you to betray your homeland, we know that she hid you here. All we're asking for is your co-operation. Or we'll kill the spawn you created and named after the most wanted defector in Russian history. Now where is Natalia?"

"Rot in hell," she spat as she sprayed blood into the air.

"Dispose of the Viper," Sergei stated bluntly as he stormed out of the room, leaving Sonja tied to the chair. Such a shame, he thought. The viper, named after her fast reflexes, her flexibility, her accuracy and her beauty, the second best performer the Red Room had ever produced, would have to be disposed off as they trained her too well. The bosses weren't going to be happy.

The single sound of a shot sounded out behind him, and he knew this job was over. At least he could get back at the bitch by leaving her orphaned daughter as a distraught mess who'd turn to violence rather than risk being sent into foster care for two years. She'd probably have been taught by her mother, so she wouldn't be too hard of a target to track down. Maybe his bosses would even use her as an example to show the other Red Room trainees what would happen if they defected. His bosses might even be lenient and spare her life to turn her into an emotionless assassin herself. That would make her mother turn in her grave.


"Sojo I'm home!" Natalie called out as she skipped the ranch's dusty pathway towards the old wooden house. The Oklahoma sun shone down on the dirty blonde teenager's hair as she moved, the waist length curls swaying as the humid breeze lifted them. She stepped onto the porch and slammed into the door, rebounding off of it and landing clumsily on the floor.

"Der'mo," (shit) she whispered as she touched her forehead lightly to make sure there was no bump. She glanced around quickly, scanning her surroundings to check that Sonja hadn't heard her. She stood up carefully, showing much more grace than she had when she fell. She pushed on the door lightly, but it didn't budge.

"That's odd," she muttered. "Sojo never locks the door when she knows I'm coming home." Natalie quietly opened the door with the key from under the windowsill and tiptoed upstairs to her room. She pulled up a floorboard beside her bed with a pen knife and did the same to the nearest planks of wood. Using all of the strength in her upper arms, she yanked the duffle bag out of the secret compartment beneath the floor. She walked into her ensuite bathroom and shoved all of her toiletries into a small carrier bag before ransacking her drawers and piling as many of her possessions into the sack as she could, considering it was half full when she'd first picked it up. She took her locket out of her jewellery box and clasped it around her neck and left the room. Natalie ran into the barn with the brown duffel bag slung over her shoulder. And stopped. Sonja Budkovskiy (or Sonja Burton as her licenses called her in the US), Natalie's godmother - or 'mother' as the locals thought she was - was tied to a chair, her body battered and bruised, her left arm twisted at an odd angle, and her head flopped forward.

"Sojo!" She shouted.

She gained no response.

"Sojo!" She shouted again. She still gained no response.

Natalie cautiously stepped across the floor, checking the floor for the tell-tale signs that showed the floor had been tampered with. There weren't any. She ran towards Sonja and kneeled before her. She lifted her head gently and fought the urge to cry out. The people who did this could still be nearby. She brushed away the stray tear on the cheek that had fallen initially after seeing the bullet hole in the middle of her adopted auntie's forehead; her mother wouldn't have approved of her showing her emotions, and Sojo had suspected that this would happen eventually too. They had prepared her for this. They would want her to stay strong. A glance at the positioning of Sojo's fingers told Natalie all she needed to know; the signal confirmed who had murdered her godmother: the Red Room.

She turned to leave the barn, and pulled the two barn doors wide open and strapped them to the outside walls. She then looked up and positioned herself directly under the centre mark left as a dent in the frame work of the door's entrance. She took a deep breath and took seven slow paces forwards. She turned ninety degrees to her left and stepped forward another seven paces before turning one hundred and eighty degrees and walking seven steps forwards and stopping. She felt the pressure pads under her feet pulse slightly, and she sighed in relief. The program her father had left in place still worked perfectly. She lowered herself into a kneeling position and swept away the straw surrounding her right hand gently. She placed the thumb of her right hand on the scanner before repeating the process with her other hand. Then she brushed away the straw in front of her and lowered her head to complete the retinal scan. A short single beep echoed around the barn three seconds later and she stood up and took two steps backwards. The fan above her head turned itself on, blowing all of the straw surrounding her away. In front of her feet lay a square frame with two hand shaped holes embedded in it. She yanked the metal hatch up and dropped elegantly into the bunker below with the stealth of a panther.

Natalie scanned the room thoroughly, considering which weapons she should take with her. She'd need light weight weapons, knives, throwing knives, hand guns (which were accurate, long range and had a high capacity), at least one sniper rifle, several varieties of grenades, ammunition and her birthday present from her parents. It was just a matter of fitting it all in a single duffel bag. Luckily, her parents had prepared for events such as this, so someone would fetch any remaining weapons at a later date. She placed everything she could carry in her second bag, and hauled herself back up on to the barn floor. She kicked the door back down and it clicked back into place. Natalie pulled a knitted blanket over the metal and pushed the button on her emergency tracking device to send for help. She dropped her bags to the floor and stepped outside in to the sun.


Agent Jackson frowned as he pulled the jeep to a stop outside a random barn in the middle of Kansas. The tracking devices' signal showed that they were at the correct location, but S.H.I.E.L.D. had no active agents placed in this area, so he and his teammates cautiously exited the vehicle with their guns drawn. The tactical team entered the barn like a pre-programmed machine, weapons pointed at every angle in case of any potential threat. All they found however, was a teenage girl standing over a blanket whilst grooming a bay gelding.

"Sssshhh Luka, calm down," she muttered as she patted the horse's neck. "They won't hurt us."

The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents just stared at her in the shock, both confused at how calm the girl seemed, how she'd heard them enter the barn and how she'd led them there.

"I know you're confused as to why you're here," she stated confidently as she turned to face the group. "But first things first. Yes the Red Room was here. No they're not here anymore. Yes they will be back soon. They're after me you see. So I need you to take my horse away, I don't want him getting hurt like they did to my godmother over there," she gestured to a dead body on her right inside the horse's stall, her body obscured by a blanket. "One of you needs to take him to the farm three miles down the road. Another of you needs to make sure Sonja Budkovskiy gets a proper burial -"

"Look kid, we don't know how you got a hold of one of our devices, or how you know about the Red Room, but we're going to have to call the local authorities and have the arrest you for them murder of this woman," Jackson began. The tell-tale click of the safety being taken off of a pistol made him focus his attention back on the girl. His teammates automatically refocused their guns on the girl.

She pulled her horse aside and moved the blanket, and clicked the safety back on her gun before she lowered it. "Черный Ястреб," (Black Hawk) she whispered. The square of titanium on the floor lifted to show a bunker beneath. "My parents left me with weapons to protect myself. Anything I can't carry I was instructed to give to S.H.I.E.L.D. If you have any other questions, I will not be answering them until Agent Maria Hill gets here. So call her. You have approximately three hours until the Red Room will return, as they think they can kill me in my sleep." The agents just gaped at her. "Chop chop," she instructed as she clapped her hands.


It took an hour for the deputy director to arrive. The girl hadn't spoken at all since her horse had been led away. The agents never took their eyes off of her though, they couldn't trust her not to stab them in the back at any given time - she was dangerous, and if the Red Room wanted her, then she was definitely more so.

Hill cleared her throat to announce her arrival. Jackson and his team stood to attention, but their gazes remained fixed on the blonde. "At ease," she stated, and the agents relaxed at her instruction. Hill walked up to the girl, who nodded at her, before she allowed her to check for any hidden weapons. She took a knife from the girl's calf, but otherwise she was clean. The teen reached down and gave a duffel bag to Hill before she bent down to pick up her other bag.

"Mam, where are you taking her?" Jackson said defiantly, he didn't want the potential terrorist anywhere near a S.H.I.E.L.D base, especially after the Loki incident five years ago.

"Relax, Fury wants to speak with her," Hill replied.

The girl visibly flinched. "Тетушка," she whimpered.

"успокаивать," Maria replied as she walked the girl up the ramp of the quin-jet which was conveniently 'parked' in the horse's paddock. The girl just shuddered in response.

Maria nodded at the agents behind her, and Jackson and one of his teammates joined them on the jet whilst the others returned to the car to drive it back to base. "This is going to be a lot of paperwork," she sighed. The girl's shoulders just slumped in response.


_Sorry there's no Clintasha yet. They'll be in the next chapter I promise_

Okay, so that's the first part done. 'Natalie' is Natalia Nadia Barton if you didn't know. I mentioned her briefly at the end of my last fanfiction, my Avengers Mission Impossible Crossover, if this has confused you, so sorry about that.

Anyway, thanks for reading so far.

Translation (From Russian): Naddy – "Auntie", Maria – "Hush".