Chapter 1

Opened the door for her, kissed her cheek, hugged her twice, all in one day. What these things were beginning to mean, Natasha wasn't sure. Clint had begun repeating actions like these regularly, and they felt extremely natural when she received them. The two of them had always been close since he had saved her, and she never felt anything more than an alliance; a partnership. Yet for some reason she couldn't explain, that didn't exactly seem to be the case now.

The auburn haired master-assassin stood on the balcony of Stark Tower, arms crossed and leaning against the glass for support as she looked at New York's astonishing lights in the dead of night. Her gaze lowered, and she tried desperately to get through the confusing thoughts she was having. Love is for children. She had believed those words since the hospital fire, if not since before that. The only thing the illusion of love could ever do for someone is cause a decoy of comfort, something temporary to fill in the space so many people find necessary to be truly happy; to find comfort. In the end, though, the only thing love really did was cause hurt, unnecessary pain.

After a lengthened amount of time went by, the assassin took in a deep breath and straightened up, looking up to the stars. She ran a gloved hand through her hair as she brushed a strand of red from her face, grasping at anything her mind could find to get a grip. Slowly she turned around with her back to the glass, looking inside to the tower, to all her friends, to Clint. The reason she had excused herself to step outside was to get away from Hawkeye, to escape from the things she was thinking. Of course though, she couldn't stay out here forever. It was almost even immature of her to have excused herself. Only a little longer, then I'll go back. She nodded as she thought this, eyes flickering from Clint to the open skyline.

Raising two fingers to the side of her face, she gently began rubbing the side of her forehead. She closed her eyes firmly, opening them to see Clint had caught her eye. "дерьмо," she muttered as her eyelids fluttered and she pondered whether to hold the gaze or look away. The archer smiled and put down a glass he was holding, then began to walk towards the balcony. Great, just what she needed. A quick breath was taken and Natasha straightened up, brushed some hair away, and smiled back. Get it together, it's Barton. You know him through and through.

"Is there a problem, Nat? You've been out here what, half an hour now?" Clint smirked and approached her, footsteps heard clearly against the solid balcony.

The Black Widow's smile relaxed and she leaned further against the glass. "Everything's fine, Barton. It's late, that's all." She glanced back at the archer and her smile stayed still. Everything was fine, really, she had just been overthinking things.

"And what, you're sleepy?" Clint answered and ran his hand along the top of the glass as he continued walking. "You're used to staying up late, I'm not buying it. Somthing's up." He continued his stride until reaching Natasha, raising a hand and brushing auburn hair behind a delicate ear.

There it was, the confusing emotions. He was so close, his touch so comforting. Natasha's focus drifted to her left until her sight settled upon a strong, muscular arm. The arm of an archer. Her breath stopped momentarily and then she looked up to comforting eyes, breath returning to her. "Trust me, I would tell you if there was a problem."

Natasha began to take a step back, but was stopped by her ally. Clint rested his hand on her slender arm and leaned forward, kissing lightly yet meaningfully on her cheek. "Well you better mean that. Now how about we return to the others." He smiled, pulled gently on her arm, and took a step towards the tower.

"I, actually I think I'm going now." Natasha's smile dropped and in replacement, an unreadable expression. Astonishment, mixed with confusion, mixed with hurt, and mixed with despair. Maybe she was acting childishly, it didn't matter. Right now she was sure that what would be best for her would be to spend some time away from Hawkeye, distract herself from him. S.H.I.E.L.D. had granted both of them some days free of work after Loki had left, but surely she could request to help with something, anything. She just needed to refocus herself, then things would return to how they were with her fellow agent. Quickly she stepped to the side of Clint and tried to walk passed him, being stopped by his hand at her wrist.

"What?! Alright, something's definitely wrong. Please, Natasha.." Hawkeye said hopefully and held their eye contact for as long as he could, keeping a firm grip on her wrist.

"Clint, I'm serious. Don't worry, I'll be fine. I'm going home." Natasha forcefully jerked her arm away from Clint's grasp, rushing past him and not bothering to look back. As she entered the tower she faintly smiled at her friends, swiftly lifting her jacket off the back of a chair as she walked to the elevator. "Good night, guys," she said as casually as she could and pressed the arrow pointing down next to the elevator.

Tony raised his eyebrow and glanced between the two assassins, putting his scotch down on the bar. "Leaving so soon?" The billionaire asked and looked at Clint, turning his head slightly.

"Yes, I think I'll get some sleep." Natasha entered the elevator as soon as the doors opened, forced a smile to her friends, and pushed to button directing her to the main floor. The doors wouldn't close fast enough it seemed, and Clint was rushing towards her.

"Nat, wait-" the archer started before cut off by the close of the elevator doors. He stopped in his tracks and ran a hand through his hair, wondering whether to follow her or not. Letting out a long breath, Clint closed his eyes and took a step back. He hated not knowing why something was bothering Natasha, and he hated when she left him unanswered.

Morning light shined through the crack of curtains, waking Natasha the way she normally was roused. Stretching, she began to remember everything that had happened the previous day. She sighed and got out of bed, grateful that Clint hadn't followed her after she left. She knew what she had to do today though; she had to contact Fury and ask to help in a mission, anything. After showering, brushing her teeth, and getting into her S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform, she was ready.

"Agent Romanoff, is there something you need?" Fury's voice asked through the speaker of Natasha's earpiece.

"Yes actually. Director Fury, I need something to work with. A mission, interrogation, anything. I'm up for the job." Natasha replied.

A pause came from the other side of the device. "Well you earned your leave of absence, but if you're sure, there is something you could help me with. It came up this morning, a man who will probably kill anyone he wishes. He's already killed several unfortunately, and we recently became aware of his location."

Natasha had never been more glad to hear a mission offered to her. "Of course, I could handle that. Sounds easy enough."

"I was thinking the same thing. You're our best agent under this skillset. He's about three hours away from you, we can send over a 'copter and you'll be on your way. It won't take too much time, I'm sure. I'd be cautious, though. The guy has proved he's smart."

"Great, thanks so much. I'll be out waiting, one helicopter will be enough. Don't worry about too much backup, I'm up for the job." Natasha pressed into her earpiece and the conversation was over. She was needing a challenge to set her mind back on track, and this was perfect. Working with criminals was one of the easiest things for her to do, she was made for it. The Black Widow looked down at her outfit, and decided to change. This strategy would require for her to look less experienced in combat, so she changed into jeans and a blue top. Simple enough.

Before leaving her apartment she slid a gun into a strap around the waist, then she left. The helicopter came shortly after, ready to take her to do something she had done several times before. Hopefully this wouldn't be too easy, she needed this to really take her mind off of things.

The helicopter had landed, time went by much quicker than Natasha had expected. She straightened up and began unbuckling herself from the seat. "Would you like me to wait?" The pilot asked, turning to face her.

"No, I think I'll be fine. I'm planning on taking some time." Natasha replied to the pilot, smiling softly. Soft, quick steps were taken along the way to the entrance of what seemed to be nothing but a shack. The small area she was approaching gave her an unsettling feeling, but she tried to ignore it and continued walking without a sound. Wind from the departing helicopter blew her hair in front of her, and she brushed it back with both hands.

Finally she reached the small, damaged door and stopped to examine her surroundings. Empty, abandoned. Those were the two words that came to the assassin's eyes as she examined the dry, bare place surrounding the shack. This will be easy, you know how to do this. With those thoughts, she pushed on the doorknob, immediately causing the door to unhinge itself and fall.

Her jaw clenched, her heart picked up it's pace, her eyes fluttered. The Black Widow was ready. What she wasn't ready for though, was the quick dart that hit her neck, sending unwanted fluids into her bloodstream. Immediately Natasha's hand went to the dart and pulled it out, examining it. Desperately she tried to stay conscious as she could tell the dart injected a type of poison into her. The room was spinning, a man was approaching, and everything went black.