Author's Note: Hey! This is my first story, I hope you enjoy it. The first chapter is a bit short, I expect to write more soon. Mind that this story is rated M for upcoming events, which will include a bigger description of pain/perhaps torture (yes, a vague warning, sorry). There will be some slight Clintasha. Also, feel free to review the story so I know what to do better in the next chapter! (Also, English is not my native language, so I will apologise for any syntax errors or anything like that.) Have fun reading!

The air was crisp and so cold that her teeth chattered. Normally, cold weather did not affect her much. She was a Russian; she basically grew up in the midst of a constant winter, but the wind made the stinging chill unbearable. Often she recalled a distant memory in which she had to wash herself with snow every morning and evening for a year to toughen her as a child. However, her childhood had been painful and therefore she would suppress these memories as soon as they came up. Even now, she clenched her teeth together even tighter and shook her head to scatter the evil thoughts from her mind.

She rubbed her gloved hands together and slid closer to the fire she had set up. The flames were small and gave off a scant amount of heat that she barely felt through her thick layers of cloth. Still, they danced elegantly, flickering from side to side just like dancers on stage. They were beautiful, a stark contrast in color to the pristine white of the snow that covered the ground. The corners of her lips twitched into a smile as she stared into the center of the hypnotizing blaze.

"Enjoying the show?"

Natasha Romanoff whipped around as she heard the voice speak right behind her. Out of reflex, she had drawn her gun, pointing it right at the man who had addressed her. She scolded herself for not hearing him approach; she blamed it on the thick earmuffs that she wore to keep her ears warm. Still, she should have heard him. No one should be able to creep up on her like this.

She blinked against the low winter sun that and squinted to make out Clint Barton. He was grinning and carried a pile of branches in his arms. His bow was slung across his shoulder so that his arms were free.

"Tsk, Natasha, you know that I am the only person around here. There is no need to draw your gun on me," he said and dropped the branches next to the fire. He tossed two of the thicker ones into the blaze which lit up for a moment. Then, it declined to its miserable size.

"Sorry," she mumbled into her scarf as she stored the gun back into the pocket of her coat. "It's the reflexes."

"It's okay. After all, your reflexes usually save our lives," said Clint as he took the bow off his shoulder and into his hands. Then, he sat down next to her in hopes to warm himself in front of the fire. "Anything new?"

She shook her head. Normally, she was a calm person, but this mission was especially tiring. They had spent the last six days camping in a snowy taiga in the very north of Alaska. There were rumors that an aspiring terror cell had nested itself here and was planning a big coup. The rumors were too thin to deserve the full attention of the Avengers but substantial enough to require deeper insight. She and Clint kept advancing into the terrain, searching for anything that could lead them to the cell, but so far they had found nothing but ice and snow. They couldn't use a Quinjet to look for the cell since they would attract too much attention with it, nor could they use a satellite to look into the terrain since the trees were too tight to find anything substantial. Frequent snowstorms also made it nearly impossible to get a clear image.

He sighed and threw another stick into the fire. "Well. At least we can go back in another week if we don't find anything."

"Mm, I could use a hot shower," Natasha said with a smile on her face as she imaged feeling warm again.

"I'd crawl into bed with a nice, thick blanket and I'd never come out again," Clint said and closed his eyes at the pleasant thought. She watched him with a smile as the calm expression lit up his face. It made him look a bit younger and less damaged. Over the years of spying and fighting, both of them had acquired several scars, both physically and mentally. They knew how to hide them. The only time that they could let their guard down was around each other. They were partners, for years now. It was easy to trust each other the longer you fought together.

"I'm tired of sleeping in tents. I want a bed," she said jokingly and leaned back a bit, letting the weak rays of light touch the skin of her pale face.

"Another reason to find that cell, Nat. The sooner it's over the sooner we can go home," he said.

"Yeah. We should get moving. We're nearly done with sector C6."

They had separated a map of the area into 36 hectares. Each one was to be searched by the two. Once they had finished one they moved on to the next. Once they had finished C6, they would move on to D6, then to D5 and so on along the grid. It was tiring but efficient work. After all, they had finished the other grids in just under a week's time.

"Well. We should get going, what do you say?" she said and got up, brushing the snow from her pants. She picked up her backpack and shouldered it, reaching out with her hand to help him up. He took it and pulled himself up. Clint picked up his bow and shouldered his own pack, slightly heavier than hers. Then, he kicked some snow over the fire to extinguish it.

He smiled at her. It was a motivational smile. "Alright, let's go-"

The rest of his sentence was cut off by the deafening shot of a gun.