Chapter 4- Spinning Silk

Clint looked out the window of the abandoned building he was camped in. It was supposed to be swept routinely because it had a perfect view of the peace meeting, but it was all too easy for Clint to get in. After his distraction at the airport, Clint decided that he would have to be extra careful on this mission. He was fairly certain Widow had been sent to Budapest as well, and that meant very little would go according to his plans. He did have an advantage because Fury had briefed him on the political situation before his flight. He doubted the Russians showed Natasha the same trust. 'Idiots,' He thought to himself. 'They are so concerned with not trusting their agents that they force them to find other sources of information.' This was no doubt what made the Black Widow so good. She was an expert at gathering information. She understood the power of information, and so would likely know even more than Clint about the peace conference by tomorrow; but until then, he had an advantage.

With that in mind, Clint suited up for his reconnaissance run. In the dark of night no one would see the Hawk glide from rooftop to rooftop, building to building, as he learned everything he could about the defenses for the conference.

He was watching the men in the guard house from an apartment building south of the conference when he noticed a nervous looking blonde wandering towards the guard house that was emptying. The guards had been celebrating the culmination of all their work for the peace conference, and consequently had drunk too much. The few guards on duty had abstained from drinking, but had drifted together towards the front of the building to smoke and talk. The blonde was walking straight towards the drunken guards. Hawkeye began to get nervous. 'Please don't see her, please don't see her, please don't see her' he pleaded. When one of the guards looked up and began to stagger towards her Hawkeye silently cursed. 'What on earth was that girl doing?! Was she trying to get raped? Why hadn't she heard the guards (they were singing loudly enough) and just moved away?!' Silently cursing himself for being about to break his cover, Clint took out his bow and ran towards the alleyway the Guards had driven the blonde into. She had finally noticed the men and changed routes, but it was already too late.

As Hawkeye jumped across the rooftops he could hear snatches of hungarian from the now panicked blonde and the boisterous responses from the guards. He took aim at the girl as she backed up against the wall. As the men got closer she began to cry. Having seen enough, Clint shot a smoke grenade into the midst of the men and a retractable net around the girl. As the men stumbled around choking, Clint yanked the net's line hard and the cable rapidly began to retract. He smiled, she was almost to safet- all of a sudden the girl dropped from the net, landed on a nearby fire-escape and flipped gracefully back to the ground. Her posture was no longer frightened or innocent, she stood straight as stone, her eyes seeming to slice through the smoke Clint had sent. Clint shivered after witnessing the change, somehow he felt that these men were in much more danger from the woman than she was from them. Without warning, the woman stepped into the fog and Clint lost sight of her. She stayed in the smoke for 3 minutes before ducking into the shadows. The smoke finally dissipated revealing a group of groggy guards collapsed on the ground. Clint was so intent on finding the woman in the shadows that he didn't see the woman climb the adjacent building and sneak up behind him.

"Agent Barton." The cold voice instantly drew Clint's attention as he knocked another arrow and pointed it at Miss Romanov. She spoke with little emotion, and the only expression he could see on her face was faint traces of annoyance.

"Oh hey beautiful, You surprised me, and that's tough to do, so, props." He immediately began to banter to try and get her to drop her guard.

"You speak like a child Agent Barton. You are very easy to sneak up on, and you crash around the neighborhood like a novice."

"I-"

"You not only intervened in my op, giving your presence away, but prevented me from getting all I needed from the guards." Her voice was stern with an edge like a knife. There was none of the honey she had used on him in France. Clint smiled, at least she was being somewhat honest with him.

"Look, if you hadn't pretended to be some ditsy blonde in the first place I wouldn't have even bothered."

"You always need to play the hero, don't you? Living with illusions will get you killed in this business Barton. There's no space for repentance crusades."

"Repentance crusades? What about my offer? Have you at least thought about it?" Frustration started to bubble in Clint but it seemed to have no effect on the Russian.

"Do not interfere any further with my mission or I will have to make sure you cannot." She paused and the ghost of a smirk appeared on her face. "Keep your eyes on the target Trickshot." Frustrated, Clint stepped forward to reply, but she tossed a stinger on him and swung off of the roof while he doubled over in pain from the electric shock. As soon as he recovered from the taser-like attack Clint raced to the edge of the roof just in time to see a shadowy lithe figure scale the apartment building and slip into a room on the third floor. Smirking, Clint scanned the windows on that floor for her bedroom. With a smirk on his face Clint sent a special arrow through the window screen.

...

Changing out of her maid's costume and into her more revealing tourist's costume, Natasha ran through the information she had gathered from the drunk guards in her head. The Officials involved were so paranoid that they only allowed their personal guards in the conference room with them, although regular Hungarian guards would be positioned all throughout that floor. The elevator required an escort who had a key to get to the top floor, but the escorts themselves were easy to imitate. There were plenty of blind spots on the grounds, but there were very few entrances into the building, though there were lots of windows. If she wasn't able to bluff her way in as a translator, she could always sabotage the heating so that windows would be available as entrances.

Her transformation complete, Natasha headed towards the distant sounds of drunken guards. Natasha suppressed a smirk when hearing how drunk they were. Add a little russian vodka to the mix and not one of the guards could stand up straight. Although the darkness made it difficult, Natasha scanned the rooftops for any sign of Barton. He had been sneaking around all evening trying to figure out the grounds. Amature, the blueprints were in the museum down the street. Not seeing ny sign of him, Romanov immersed herself in the task at hand. The little lost tourist girl would be able to get much closer to the guards (at once) without being noticed than her maid character. She needed to make sure she had her failsafes in place before going in. Implanting stingers in them so she could keep track of their whereabouts and incapacitated them if she needed to. The guards she had given the most vodka were on duty inside during the conference. If she had them already taken care of, the rest of this mission would be a breeze.

When she came within 5 meters the guards finally noticed her. Maybe she had overestimated with the vodka a bit. Regardless, they were now heading toward her, whistling and pleading for her to come closer. Moving them away from the guard house, she drew them into an abandoned alley way she had scoped out earlier. As they got closer Natasha identified who would attack first, who she wouldn't have to injure, and who would pass-out first. When her back hit the wall she began sobbing to cover up the sound of her knife coming out and the stingers going into standby. When the dominant guard was about to strike, Widow reached out to grab his arm but she was jerked upward in a net as the guards became surrounded in smoke.

Cursing SHIELD and their hero complexes she sliced through the net, rebounded off the railing of a fire escape, and with a single flip alighted gracefully on the ground. Her cover now completely blown, she maintained her fighting stance and listened for the positions of the different men within the cloud of smoke. Ignoring Hawkeye's interruption to her mission, she wove around the guards, making a small incision on each and inserting a stinger before sealing it and knocking them unconscious. Although the smoke made her task take slightly longer she enjoyed the challenge. This mission had been so straightforward it was making her uneasy. She was the best spy and assassin the organization had. They only gave her the impossible assignments, the ones that were too sensitive to give to anyone else, or the ones that only a monster could do. Pushing the smell of burning flesh in the jungle air from her mind, Widow slipped out of the smoke and into a blind spot of the angle she had been shot from.

When she scaled the roof, sure enough, there was Hawkeye, still searching for her on the ground among the unconscious guards. A wave of annoyance went through her. This was the second time he had interfered with her mission, and his skills were only drawing attention to both of their presence in Budapest. He needed to be straightened out.

"Agent Barton." Her voice startled him, but instead of jumping he immediately grabbed an arrow and aimed it at her. She was unimpressed.

"Oh hey beautiful, You surprised me, and that's tough to do, so, props." She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his juvenile attempts at manipulation and instead narrowed them to increase the intensity of her stare.

"You speak like a child Agent Barton. You are very easy to sneak up on, and you crash around the neighborhood like a novice." She was in no mood to encourage his weak attempt at familiarity.

"I-" Last time she had listened to what he had to say, now it was his turn.

"You not only intervened in my operation, giving your presence away, but prevented me from getting all I needed from the guards." This wasn't exactly true. He had changed how she had compromised the guards, and how she would have to cover it up, but no real objective hadn't been completed. He wouldn't have been able to stop her from accomplishing them if he tried. She knew he enjoyed it when she flirted with him, but if she wanted him to believe her and keep out harsher tones were best. He may not like it, but he was used to following orders.

"Look, if you hadn't pretended to be some ditsy blonde in the first place I wouldn't have even bothered." Ahhh the requisite complaining. It was amazing he had ever worked in The Circus of Crime. Anyone who spoke against Ringmaster was discontinued from the show. She supposed that was one of the reasons he turned them in. But now was the time to plant the seed of doubt and remind him that she was thinking about his offer.

"You always need to play the hero, don't you? Living with illusions will get you killed in this business Barton. There's no space for repentance crusades." Let him chew on that one.

"Repentance crusades? What about my offer? Have you at least thought about it?" Annnd there it is. You can ask, but until I can trust you, it stays my secret. She could see the signs of frustration in Clint, he wasn't very good at concealing his emotions.

"Do not interfere any further with my mission or I will have to make sure you cannot." Widow paused and the ghost of a smirk appeared on her face. "Keep your eyes on the target Trickshot." Clint's eyes widened for a moment and he stepped forward to reply, but she tossed a stinger on him and swung off of the roof while he doubled over in pain from the electric shock.

The stinger should knock him unconscious for about 10 minutes, plenty of time for her to climb down, spread broken glass around the unconscious guards (to explain their cuts) and climb back up into the safety of her room without Hawkeye seeing.

After heating up some street-food she bought in the microwave, Natasha went into the bathroom to take off her wig and shower. Once clean, she went into the bedroom to secure it before going to sleep. As she walked into the room she almost ran into the arrow at eye height sticking out of the wall. She glared at the hole it had torn through the window screen, and without looking, yanked the arrow out of the wall. She looked down at the piece of paper that brushed her toes. Moving out of the window's line of sight, she grabbed the paper and opened it. Out of it fell a single rose-petal, and on it was written:

Trickshot can hit a spider with his eyes shut, but Hawkeye can shoot the spider's web right from underneath it.

The rose petal is for an apology, and so you know I'll be seeing you again.

Game on spider.

Natasha could practically see the grin on his face as he wrote this. How sweet, the archer wants play. She would have to pay his little camp a visit. She smirked as she thought of how he would react once all his arrows were missing. She'd like to see him get in her way then.

She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn't realize that for the first time, her smirk had slipped into a genuine smile.

...

Thank you all so much for reading this! I am super new and would LOVE some feedback so that I can get better at writing. Please comment and do any of the other stuff you do to show authors that you support them! Until next chapter!