Clint came out from behind the trash can, another arrow ready to fly. He glanced at the man on the ground with an arrow sticking out of his chest, before focusing all of his attention on the girl who was his real target. He expected her to run, but she just stood there looking from him to the dead man on the ground.

"Go on," she said in English. "Get it over with. You've done a great service by getting rid of that piece of filth now finish what you came here for."

He considered her for a moment. "How do you know I wasn't here for him?"

"Because you haven't been following him for the past three days, you've been following me."

"You don't know that," he replied stupidly.

"I saw you in the lobby of the hotel. You were quite obvious. I've been waiting since then for you to do it." She actually smiled at him. "Admittedly, I was not expecting arrows. That, you've actually surprised me with."

Once again, Clint was impressed. He had spent the past three days thinking she had no idea that he was there, and she'd pegged him from the moment he first saw her. "Why didn't you run?"

"You would just keep coming after me, would you not? Maybe I'm just tired of running."

Clint wasn't quite sure what to do next. She was right. He should just finish what he came here for and get the hell out. She was practically giving him permission to do it. He recognized the look in her eyes, though, and it gave him pause. It wasn't so much defeat as weariness. He knew exactly what it felt like to be tired of everything and ready for it to end. For him, that end came when he was captured by SHIELD, and for her, it was supposed to end here in this alley by his hand.

Before he could make up his mind, three men entered the alley. Instinctively, Clint aimed his bow away from Natalia and toward them. "Turn around and get the hell out of here if you want to live," Clint said in his passible Russian.

One of the men laughed at him. "Should we be scared of a little child's toy when we have a man's weapon?" All three men pulled out what appeared to be identical Makarov pistols.

"You all get those at a military flash sale?" Clint quipped as he kept his bow pointed at the man speaking. "An arrow was plenty good enough for this guy here." He gestured toward the dead body on the ground.

Natalia held up her hands and backed herself up slowly next to him. "You should have taken the shot and gotten out of here. Vasily was a low level thug, but he wasn't stupid. He would not have come alone," she whispered.

"Igor couldn't handle one little girl, I see," the man looked down at the body of his friend. "But you will not be so lucky with us, Natalia Romanova. No matter who is here to assist you."

"Gun," Clint whispered to her. "Ankle holster. Left leg. I assume you know how to use one." He could feel her eyes on him, but he didn't look away from the men in front of them. "So how is this going to play out, boys? You gonna let us get out of here, or are you going to join your friend?"

The man grinned at him. "How about if you just give us the girl, and we will kill you quickly?"

Natalia threw her hands up into the air. "I'll come with you. Just please don't hurt us."

The man began to laugh and everything happened in seconds. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her dive down quickly and he let his arrow fly, hitting the man who had been talking. She was up in seconds, his gun in her hand and fired a shot at one of the two men left, while he took out the third with another arrow.

As soon as the last man fell, he turned his bow back on her. He expected to find her pointing the gun at him, after all, that would be the smart play. Instead she was holding it out to him.

"See? This is why bows are better than guns. Guns make too much noise. One shot, and now everyone will be headed this way."

"Then you'd better finish and go," she replied.

"We'll go together. Keep the gun, but don't use it unless you have to. I don't want innocent people getting killed." He grabbed his bag and began climbing the ladder, hoping to be able to get into the building from the roof, when he noticed her just standing there. "You coming, Natalia, or are you just gonna wait here for the cops?"

She hesitated briefly before hiding the gun away and following him. When they reached the top of the building, he stopped to pack up his equipment, because he couldn't very easily walk down the streets of St. Petersburg with it out. He hated to do it, but he had another gun should he need it.

Natalia examined the locked door before she pulled something out of her hair and picked the lock easily. He nodded in appreciation as they entered the building with her leading the way.

"Once we get down to street level, go right toward the alley. If we walk out the other way with all the commotion, we'll look suspicious." He could already hear sirens in the distance. "Once you reach the corner, go right again."

She nodded that she understood as they made their way down the stairwell. Once they reached the door, she did exactly what he said, even stopping to glance down the alley before being shooed away by the St. Petersburg police that had just arrived. She turned right at the corner of the street and they were able to calmly walk on without drawing any attention from the mostly empty street.

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Clint took over the lead and pulled a black hoodie from his bag, tossing it at her. "Here, put this on and cover your head. I don't know if your friend at the hotel will be looking for you, but you'll be less obvious this way."

She put the hoodie on and lifted the hood over her head. "They will not be looking for me. I left a note that I had to leave. Between Vasily and you, I did not expect that I would be returning. What are you doing, exactly? Why take me away to kill me, when you could have just done it there and left one more body?"

He wasn't quite sure of what to say, because he really had no answer. Once again, she was right that he should have just done his job and left. Hell, he probably could have made it look like they all killed each other. He couldn't do it though because maybe, in some way, she reminded him of himself when Fury found him. He got a second chance, and maybe now he wanted to give her the same option. If she didn't want it, then he knew he'd have to deal with that too.

They walked in silence a few blocks and he stopped outside of his hotel. It was nowhere near as fancy as the one she just came from, but it was serviceable for him. "Are you hungry, because I am starving." When she said nothing, he shrugged. "I'll take that as a yes."

She followed him to a little deli-like place across the street that he'd eaten at a few times before. He handed her a copy of the menu and when she tried to decline, he looked at her crossly. "Get something. You'll probably just get hungry later, and there is no room service." He grabbed a few bottles of water and paid for everything once she finally made a selection. They sat in silence as they waited for the food.

His hotel room was small but it had a little sitting area with a small coffee table in one corner. Once they got inside, he sat the food and drinks on the table, and placed his bag down beside the couch. He turned to find her looking around the room curiously.

"Gun please," he demanded, putting his hand out toward her. She hesitated briefly before pulling it out of her waistband and handing it to him. "Bathroom's through that door over there. You have to jiggle the handle after you use it, or it gets stuck."

He pulled out his sandwich and flopped himself down on the couch. "Sorry I don't have anything like a toothbrush for you, but I wasn't planning to bring anyone back here. We'll get you some stuff tomorrow." He opened a bottle of water and sat it on the table close to her, before opening one for himself. "So tell me, what does шлюха mean?"

She chuckled slightly. "I believe you would use the word whore. Someone who takes money or goods in exchange for sex?" Did your government not teach you these words when they taught you to speak Russian?"

He shrugged at her and took a sip of water. "No. I learned some Russian before I actually became a government employee. Still never heard that word."

She looked between him and the bed and frowned. "I meant what I said. I'm no one's whore. If you think that I will sleep with you because you spared my life and bought me a sandwich, you are wrong."

It was Clint's turn to chuckle. "Sweetheart, that isn't what's happening here. When we are done eating, you are going to go over to that bed to sleep, and I'm staying right here on this couch. It's been a long few days and I'm exhausted. My name is Clint, by the way. I already know yours."

She gave him a quizzical look. "I would prefer it if you called me Natasha."

"Alright, Natasha it is then. If you plan to kill me in my sleep, well, there is nothing I can do about that, except hope that this sandwich has bought me enough good will that you won't try."