"What do you mean, she's gone?" Clint demanded, rainwater gray eyes blazing with bottled up rage at the Captain. Steve sighed out an exasperated breath for the umpteenth time. He had repeated Natasha's disappearance so many times that he felt like he was on the verge of throwing up, even thought there was a perfectly good piece of evidence in the missing redhead's room.

"I mean that she is gone, Barton," he repeated, jumping to his feet and off the couch. He paced around the living room several times, so fast and hard that it was a wonder there was no trace of a burning carpet stench.

"How could you let her get kidnapped?"

Steve turned on him so fast it was incredible. "I didn't let her get kidnapped! I was respecting her privacy."

"Uh huh." The archer's words were only driven by his anger and he wasn't thinking clearly and straightly, but neither was the sandy haired man in front of him. Sam stepped in between them, pushing them apart.

"Guys, guys," he chided quietly. "Calm down. We're never going to find Natasha if we keep arguing."

"He's right," backed up Maria from her spot on the chair, fingers laced together in a death tight grip. "If you two stop fighting, Stark may be able to find something that could have seen what happened."

"Stark," the Falcon nodded at Maria and then faced the dark haired billionaire, who was very busy sliding his fingers across the touch screen of his huge super computer slash television screen. "You keep bragging about being able to watch Natasha walking around her room in her underwear. That means you have security cameras in there, right?" Despite the inappropriateness of the comment, the suggestion was logical.

Tony looked over his shoulder with a rueful smirk. "I wasn't technically lying since yes, I do have security cameras in every room, but no worries, Capsicle and Legolas, I never lay my eyes on the screen of them. Though, in person was an entirely different situation."

"Pervert!" Pepper slugged him in the arm angrily from her position beside him. He rubbed the spot carefully.

"I'm kidding!"

Thor then sauntered into the room along with Banner. "We laid down a half mile radius around the Tower," explained Banner, looking at the floor in shame. Thor spoke up, though, for him.

"I'm sorry," he replied, staring around the room of people with electric blue orbs darkened by sadness and grief. "There was no sign of Lady Natasha."

"But?" Sam raised his eyebrows. Everyone could sense there was something underlying the god of thunder's sentence.

The scientist cleared his throat beside him. "What he forgot to mention was . . ." His voice was halting and unsure, unsure if he should tell about what they had found because they would all blow a gasket, but he had to. "We found that most of outside was destroyed."

"What?!"

See? I was right, Banner snapped at himself mentally, but he continued anyways, "There were damaged cars, bullet holes, the smell of sulphur. Looked like a huge gun battle went down there."

Steve's face grew taut with even more stress. "A gun battle?" he repeated.

"You mean Natasha could be-" Clint began nervously, until the Captain cut him off abruptly.

"No. We can't allow ourselves to think that way."

"Look, Cap," said Tony. "I know you went in on a whim that your best friend was still alive and charged over to save him, but this isn't 1945. We have to think things through."

Everyone was shocked at the dark haired man's maturity on the situation, but the moment didn't last long. Maria's bright blue eyes narrowed. "Seriously? Natasha could be dead," she exclaimed angrily, and everybody else winced under their breaths at the terrible thought, "or in the hands of some maniac or fiend-" She trailed off for a moment, her eyes widening in realization. "No, it couldn't be . . ."

The dark haired archer seemed to catch on and his teeth ground together ferociously. "That son of a bitch," he cursed.

"No, no, no, no," Tony dismissed, waving his hands around dramatically once he caught on to what the two S.H.I.E.L.D agents were implying. "How the hell would Loki escape Asgard?"

"I assure you, Loki is definitely still in prison in Asgard," Thor nodded vigorously, agreeing with Tony.

"Yeah. Besides, this isn't Loki's style." The dark haired man paced around the room as well, pausing for a moment to gaze out of the window onto the twinkling lights of the city, dark brown eyes glistening with comprehension. "Why would he smash through a window when he could just do that cloning thing of his? If Loki did escaped, though I'm positive he didn't," he added before continuing, "he would totally snatch the Tesseract Glow Stick of Destiny before he left, so the whole window should have been vaporized."

"He's got a point," agreed Pepper.

"Exactly," her boyfriend boasted proudly, puffing out his chest for a moment. "And Loki is a full out diva, as I have mentioned before. And he despises all of us, so he would have kidnapped Natasha in broad daylight, right in front of us so that he could get a fight or rub it in our faces, right?"

"Mm hmm," Banner hummed and leaned back. "What about any other enemies? What if this is linked to you, Clint?"

Clint looked up from his gaze on the carpet. "I don't recall any enemies who would go so far to kidnap my girlfriend," he grunted snarkily.

"Okay, not much help from you there." Tony turned back to the screen and wiped his brow.

"This does look a bit like HYDRA, though, don't ya think?" Sam suggested, his dark eyes flicking between Steve and Maria, the only ones who understood what he was grabbing on to. Steve couldn't believe it.

"Fury did say that a lot of the HYDRA agents didn't go down with their ship," Maria agreed in a slow voice. "But they're in hiding, at least. HYDRA are much neater than this."

The Captain nodded, pushing away all jittery and anxious thoughts about Natasha's safety in jeopardy. "Hill's also got a point. This could have been an ordered abduction."

"Yes, but by who?" the dark haired man at the computer said in a mysterious voice, wheeling his head over his shoulder with a movie star perfect eyebrow raise at all of them.

"It could be one of Natasha's own enemies," Banner specified the new idea.

"Yeah, which narrows it down to a few hundred organizations, Bruce. Thanks a lot," Tony responded in a sarcastic snap. "She's the Black Widow, remember? She's got a list of enemies as big as the phone book."

Clint was about to make his own comment when Jane rushed into the room, face filled with anxiety. Thor looked at her. "Jane, what is it?" he prodded gently, laying a hand on her shoulder.

"That was Darcy," she explained in a trembling voice. "She said she just got attacked by a Winter Soldier."

Natasha's head was heavy.

She barely managed to recall the last few events that had happened in her memory's hard drive, then it all whooshed down on her in a raging flood of images. She remembered how enraged and hurt she felt about the words exchanged at dinner and even before in her fight with Clint. She had slammed the door in Steve's face, not wanting his consolation. The redhead had then spun around and sank down to the floor, back scraping along the door. She had buried her face in her hands for a moment when her spy senses pricked up at the tingling sixth sense of another presence inside her room.

She had looked up slowly for her aqua blue orbs to meet those cold, lifeless icy blue eyes.

The Winter Soldier had been sitting right in her bedroom.

The red haired woman hadn't know how to respond, so she remained frozen for a minute, just gazing deep into those vacant eyes. He had stayed as still as a statue as well, perched on the chair at the desk, face shrouded in dark, cloudy shadows, mask removed. The dark brown hair framed his face almost softly.

"So, we just going to sit here or do you want to get started?" she finally admitted, pretending to sound bored. She noticed the metal arm that crept back into the shadows clench its fist and she knew he was going to strike soon. So she made the first move.

She grabbed the gun hidden next to her. She had guns concealed in every nook and cranny of her room, of course. She didn't know what to curse: The Winter Soldier's sharp and lightning speedy reflexes or the soundproof walls of Stark Tower. The bullet ricocheted off the shiny metal of his arm and he flipped easily across the room and encircled his hand around her slim, pale throat, throttling her. She made gasping and choking nosies, clawing at his slim, cool fingers. Air was squeezed straight out of her windpipe.

Natasha was nearly out of air when she delivered a kick directly at his crotch. Obviously aware to that pain, his grip loosened and Natasha broke free, bolting across the room and grabbing her heavy, chunky weapons belt off the dresser and hooking it on before the Winter Soldier charged again, wrapping his arms around her waist and throwing her to the floor.

The red haired spy kicked, unaware of the dull sting near her forehead. She barely noticed the blood dripping everywhere on her white carpet. She snatched her gun from the spot near her and fired more bullets at the person holding her down. He managed to block off all of them and gripped her waist again before smashing the glass window to bits as they plummeted down to the road.

It was all a blur from there. Natasha recalled fighting out of his grip, the sound of gunshots and bullets chiming off surfaces, the rumbling of explosion beneath her and the stench of burning sulphur clouding her nostrils. Hiding behind cars and aiming and firing . . .

Until the Winter Soldier attacked her from behind, sending a hard blow to her head. She still managed to shake it off until he aimed a gun at her and three darts injected sharply into her neck, shooting the tranquilizer fluid through her veins. The Winter Soldier then heaved her up and carried her off to . . .

To where?

Natasha peeled open her heavy eyelids to meet a dimly lit room. It was lit up by one bluish white lightbulb and her back was lying flat on a lumpy mattress. She looked down to see that she was now wearing a classic clean white gown, cinched at the waist with another shiny silver belt, with flared sleeves and even hood. Matching white boots hugged her feet.

The redhead leaped to her feet and immediately faced the door. Who cared about her outfit? She was captured, alright, but no way was she staying. She pulled the door handle down. Obviously, it didn't give. She looked around the room and saw the comb on a dressing table. Grabbing it, she set to work on shaping it into a lockpick. She had learned these tricks when being trained as a KGB spy.

After a long time of picking at the heavy silver lock at the door, it finally clicked open, not that it was a surprise. Natasha creaked the door and peeked an eye through. The coast was clear for now.

She easily crept down the hallway and flipped around the corner. Still no one in sight. It was almost her lucky day. Until she heard the shuffling of rapid footsteps and hushed whispering. Uh oh. They knew she was gone.

Jogging down the hall, she slipped in one of the rooms flanking it and closed the door silently. Backing into the room, she was out of breath because this place looked way too familiar. Her green eyes scanned the room, but her eyes settled on the cell phone on the table.

She had to contact someone. But who? The red haired spy racked her brain, but the same choice kept flashing in her head. Letting her desires get the better of her, she hacked into the phone and dialed in numbers.

It had been two nights since Natasha disappeared and Steve just lied on the couch, thinking to himself about what could have happened if he had just opened the goddamn door. His thoughts were interrupted sharply by the musical ringtone of his cell phone. He noted that it was his Skype account. Something he never used, yet had an abundance of contacts on.

The name labeled on the screen compelled him to answer the call immediately.

"Natasha?" he asked in almost disbelief. But once the screen transformed from darkness to the real picture, he almost laughed with relief. Natasha's beautiful face was in the camera's view and she looked very worried and scared.

"Hey, Cap," she answered in a hoarse and shaky voice, managing a watery, tight lipped smile for him. She felt so relieved to see his face again one last time.

"What happened? Where are you?" Steve demanded gently yet urgently. He wanted to find her and keep her safe again.

The redhead's blue green eyes darkened with shadows as they darted around the room she was currently. "Uh, I'm not sure, Steve."

"Well, are you still in New York?" Tony had finally entered the room and Steve beckoned to the computer, their signal for if a ransom call occurred, they could somehow trace it. The dark haired man got the message and zoomed over, typing away.

"I don't think so. It's okay if you-"

"That's not a problem, Nat. I'll come and get you no matter where you are, okay?" he assured devoutly. He hoped he sounded assuring. Thank God Tony was doing something instead of making remarks.

Natasha managed a nervous grin. "I'm a big girl, Cap." She then cringed and Steve felt a sickening wave hit his stomach. "They're coming."

"Natasha, get out of there. Now!" he ordered. "We'll find you. I'll find you, no worries." Natasha nodded and dropped the phone, clattering on the dark carpet and darkening the camera's lens. "I'll always find you," murmured Steve under his breath to nobody in particular. He looked over at Tony, who was staring at the screen with wide, bewildered eyes.

"What?"

"That can't be right," the other man shook his head.

"What, Stark?"

"The call came from a phone, so it had to use a phone tower. This phone tower was located in . . ." He took a deep breath. "Budapest, Hungary."

A/N: Don't own anything. Action will start up in later chapters. Please be patient. And review!