-1-

Like any high profile investigation, there was multiple agencies situated at the Capitol building, and like so many of these multi-agency situations, there was a certain level of chaos. That chaos is what Natasha Romanov was expecting, and used to slip into the crime scene cordon. Her now infamous red hair was tucked securely away under a brunette pixie cut wig and a FBI hat, which matched the windbreaker she wore of the professional, if still manuevable, pant suit. As a spy, she had been drilled how to disappear in a crowd almost as early and often as she was trained to kill.

She could hear Madam Olga's voice clearly, one of the few clear memories she had of the Red Room, 'Again, Natalia! You were sloppy!' Madam Olga would drill this drive for perfection into her ever dwindling class of girls until they were more than perfect.

Shaking the memory away for now, Natasha effortlessly slipped through the gaggle of rushing agents from the FBI, CIA, Capitol Police officers, and (she mused with some irony) several SHIELD agents. Fortunately they were all new hires, so they would never have met her in person, and would be relying on photos to identify the wanted Black Widow.

After several minutes of circuitous movement, Natasha finally reached the main bank of computers that had been set up. On the center screen was a looping replay of several edits views of the attack, playing in grainy black and white. The moves were perfect, Natalie thought, and reminiscent of her own. If she hadn't been the one accused, she might have thought it was her as well. Except, her trained eyes noted, this woman was taller than Natasha was, by at least four inches, her leg takedown of the first aide was proof of that alone. Natasha knew she would have had to lever up off the ground to make that move, where the woman in the video had pivoted with her foot set on the shiny tile of the hallway.

Plugging in her USB drive, the software on it preprogrammed to duplicate all the data to Natasha's personal system via the cellular communication device embedded within, she calmly began to seek an exit before anyone actually tried to put the fake agent to work, or worse, someone she knew recognized her.

Natasha Romonov was many things, and superstitious was most definitely not one of them, however the feeling she had managed to jinx herself with that last thought was painfully obvious to her as she came around a corner and locked eyes with the man at the end of the hallway between her and the exit. She could deal with most problems with ease, and most men were easily intimidated by her. Most men, that is, except Tony Stark. Almost unconsciously, she cursed in her mother tongue as the insufferable smirk on Tony's face almost imperceptibly grew as she walked towards him.

Thankfully, he was talking to multiple agents while watching a holo display from his Stark Phone of the attack, so everyone else was not looking at the billionaire for once.

"Sir," a female robotic voice spoke from the glowing phone, "according to my analysis, there is only a 33.2% chance of the assailant being Natasha Romanov." Still looking at her she passed him, Tony thanked FRIDAY for her analysis, and then had the five men surrounding him quickly begin to shout at the device and Tony, because the video was obviously proof alone.

Taking a turn at the end of the hallway, Natasha entered the stairs and began to climb upwards. Getting onto the grounds had been easy, but now she needed to disappear before Tony did something ... well, Tony-like. Ascending the stairs as quickly as her cover (and the accompanying heeled shoes) would allow, she exited onto the roof of the wing of the Capitol, heading to the far side away from the reporters and guards, and back to where she had made her initial entry.

The remaining exit, down the side of the building and the quick faux-sentry walk took another ten minutes, but since most police agencies look for panic and quick escapes, her slow exit was a needed cover. Ditching the windbreaker and hat, she affixed the lapel pin she had pick pocketed from an congressman she had passed on her way in, and continued down the Mall. It was a brisk night, not quite as cold as her homeland, but with the random memory of Madam Olga in her mind, she couldn't help but think back to those memories.

-2-

Russia, 1991

The petite red headed child shivered in the cold air of the foyer of the older stone mansion, the small fire across the room doing little to warm the room she had been left alone in several minutes ago. The howling wind outside was hissing through the poorly maintained windows, making the room that much colder. Pulling her sweater tighter on her small frame, the young girl seemed all the smaller as a large muscular man entered the door on the left of the small fireplace.

"Ah! You are Natalia Romonaova, yes?" The man spoke with a stiff military accent, which matched his uniform, the medals and other adornments on his uniform glinting in the poor light of the room. At this, the small girl shrunk back, and stared at the floor even harder, fear and sadness radiating from her. "Well?" The man spoke, this time louder, "IS that your name, girl?"

A small timid set of nods was her only reply, her face still looking down, and so did not see the man's beefy hand as he violently backhanded her across her head. Her small body slammed to the floor, and she held her head in her arms as she peeked up to look for another blow, one which was not coming.

The man squatted by the cowering girl, her eyes glassy in the light of the fire as they burned with unshed tears. "Here, you WILL speak when spoken to, girl. You will only speak when spoken to, or when told to. You will do what you are told to, or suffer the consequences. Do you understand, girl?"

"Ye... Yes." The girl mumbled.

The man stood back up, his tall stature dwarfing the small girl on the floor. Nodding, he reached out to her, "Good. Now stand up." Gingerly taking his hand, she stood back up, pushing her peasant smock and sweater back down as her mother sho... had taught her. He nodded as she looked up at him, and then asked, "So, what is your name, little girl?"

"N.. Natalia Rom..om.. Romonaova."

Taking the hand he still held, he led her towards the door he had entered from. "Yes, now let's go meet the rest of the girls. You're going to be spending a lot of time with some of them in the years to come."

-3-

"It's kinda a cool night for a walk, don't you think, Agent Rushman?"

Natasha stopped, the eye roll exaggerated as she turned around. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you actually take a walk, Mr. Stark." Tony put his hand to his heart dramatically, feinting insult.

"You wound me, Nat. I think you of all people should know what lengths I go through to keep all of this," Tony waved up and down his body, "in shape!" The smirk returned as he walked up to her, getting to just within striking range, but wisely close enough to duck away as well.

Nat smirked and turned to walk away, "Preserving your body in alcohol doesn't count as exercise, Tony."

"Yes, hello 911? I'd love to report a wanted assassin lallygagging on the Mall!" Tony said theatrically into his pantomimed hand phone. He grinned as he got the response he wanted as she turned to glare at him.

Stalking towards him, she planted a finger directly where his arc reactor once was, above his heart, the force on his sternum causing him to wince. "Tony, we both know that if you thought I did ...that, you would've stopped me in the hallway, so cut the shit." Tony stared at her for several seconds as she glared up at the infuriating genius.

"What can I do to help? I may be many things, but I'm not someone who can let innocent people be targeted." Natalie hated when he used his honest face, it made it harder to remember what a jerk he usually was like.

"Well lucky for you I'm not an innocent person." Natasha turned, and began stalking away again, the memory of another girl not much younger than she had been in her young arms, the dead eyes staring off at nothing. "Go home Tony, don't get in more trouble with Ross."


Briefest authors note, for those curious: CA:tWS says Natasha was born in 1984, so that's what I'm going to use as a reference.