"Am I supposed to be scared now?" Clint eyed the woman, smirking.
The woman rolled her eyes, her short red hair framing her face. "Well you should since I'm holding a knife to your throat."
Clint laughed and the woman looked at him strangely. Why was he laughing when she had the upper hand? He tilted his head towards the weapon. "I'm not scared of that. Besides, do you think you have the guts to kill me?"
The woman cocked her head to the side, her eyebrows raised. "You don't know what I would do."
Clint leaned towards her, the tip of the knife grazing his throat. "What's your name, sweetheart?"
The woman smirked. "Well, it's certainly not sweetheart."
The man rolled his eyes and leaned in closer, a drop of blood falling from his neck. "If you're going to kill me, darling, then I should at least have the name of the person who defeated the infamous Hawkeye."
"Natasha Romanoff."
Clint smirked and raked a hand through his hair. "Well, Natasha, I hope your boss won't be too disappointed."
"Wha-" Natasha was cut off as her legs gave out from under her. Hawkeye loomed over her, holding the knife in his hand.
"I would have expected more from you, Natasha. Turns out you're just another pretty face."
Natasha laughed, throwing her head back to move her hair out of her face. "Not quite. You see, I think you underestimated me, Mr. Hawkeye," Natasha reached into her boot and pulled out another knife, this one slightly longer. "Let's see how good you can fight without a bow."
Clint smirked and stepped back allowing Natasha to stand up. She brushed off her clothes and then got into an attack position, the knife raised threateningly in front of her. "Are you ready?"
Clint chuckled. "My dear Natasha, I was born ready."