The action and excitement begins! Eeep!

I hope you guys like this chapter. Like I said, already done with writing this story. Also in the process of finishing the outline for the Natasha-as-Anatasia-Clint-as-Dmitri-story so look for that sometime after I finish this (let me know if you're interested in reading it!)

Chapter 4

"Natalia," Bucky called out from in front of Natasha as he checked the scope. It has his turn to have surveillance for the next eight hours while Natasha gets some shut eye.

Natasha ignored the man behind her. She hated that name, Natalia. It reminded her of old times, when she was a cold blooded killer. When she would kill in the name of killing and added red in her ledger.

Most of all, she didn't like the flood of memories that she got when he called her Natasha. The way her hands twitched to kill on order like she had before they took the brainwashing that she had received in the Red Room and replaced it with another brain wash, except she trusted this one, she wasn't forced to do this one.

She had her back to Bucky. Trusted him enough that he wouldn't put a knife or a bullet through her back. She calculated every entrance way; doorway, window, ventilation system. Thought about the engineering behind the room and construction of materials before acknowledged that she can close her eyes and put her guard down, just for a few hours.

Her hand still clutching her gun.

Clint was on extended leave. Three weeks, Fury had given him after the running total of eight months that he was out on missions. SHIELD was logical in the way that they didn't want their agents to burn out. They had rotation shifts, every six months. On call classification changes every four weeks.

This was the longest stretch he's had without seeing Natasha since he met her. He thought of her often. When he would pass by a street blending into the New York City crowd in his casual jeans and hoodie and seeing a sign. A lamp. Anything really.

He was determined to forget her, and whatever memories that New York City would dredge up.

In fact, since he was going in his fourth day he knew that he had to be on leave for a little while longer. Maybe ten more days or so before he could even think about the possibilities of going up to Fury and asking for some time back. He didn't need the three weeks. He had no family, no lover, he had no purpose of having time off.

Deciding to stay out of the city, and state really and drive up to Canada for a while where he could clear his head, Clint walked towards the garage where he parked his '65 'Vette at.

Clint's phone rang, Stark's ring tone.

"Stark?"

"Barton, Buddy!" Stark greeted, his usual sarcastic tone.

Clint rolled his eyes. Sometimes he didn't know what he was doing with these people. "What do you want, Stark?"

"Nothing, I know you have some time off," Stark laughed. "Hacked the unbelievably easy database. You have to talk to Fury about that. Wouldn't want this information to go to out to other people."

"What do you want, Stark?"

"Pepper has this friend," Stark started. Clint groaned into the phone. Since his wedding, Stark's mission had been to set his single friends up in the quest to get them to settle down like he has. Tony Stark didn't have a lot of people he could call friends. There was Rodney, Clint and Bruce. There was Rogers and Natasha. Then there was Jarvis, but he couldn't really set the computer up with someone so Stark has been working on a female AI much to everyone's amusement.

"Stark, I told you," Clint stated. "I don't need your help picking up women."

"Pepper and I just don't want you to be lonely."

"I'm not lonely."

Clint walked up to the garage door that held his car, using his key to open the door before stepping in.

"You don't have to hide it from us," Start responded with a sigh. "I'm putting Pepper on the phone since me talking doesn't seem to affect you."

Clint groaned stepping to up to where he hid his keys, his phone between his shoulder and ear as Pepper talked him into meeting up with an associate of theirs who would be the perfect match for him.

Clint finally agreed and was able to hang up the phone. He shook his head with a chuckle realizing that he's been played by Pepper Potts, no wonder Stark married her.

Clint sat in the custom made leather seats and ran a hand through the dashboard. This was his baby.

"Miss you," he whispered to the car, a wistful smile on his face. Clint took a whiff expecting that new car smell to fill his senses.

Instead, it was distinct smell of carbon monoxide that he welcomed into his lungs.

A week after deployment and their mission was done. A success at taking down one of the smaller Hydra bases that had sprouted around Eastern Europe.

"Natalia," Bucky called out to her, touching her hand wanting a response. Natasha looked up at Bucky with a questioning look on her face. "We should celebrate."

"You can celebrate once you get back," Natasha replied shaking his hand off and going through the post-op checklist that they had ensuring that all finger prints and hair samples were out of the room. That Natasha Romanoff and Bucky Barnes would leave no traces in the room.

"We can celebrate. Siberia is only an hour away by car."

"The extraction team is -"

Bucky cut Natasha off by placing his arms around her waist. His voice switched to a lower octave, one that he used when speaking Russian. "Do you remember, Natalia? The months we spent in Siberia? Training, killing, and making love on every surface we could get ourselves on... we can go back and relive them, Natalia."

Natasha looked in the mirror, at their reflections. "I do."

"Then we can celebrate there, only for a few days," Bucky stated his grip around her waist tightening. "You should call Fury. Tell him so; tell him it's a test of some sort. To see if bringing me there would show my loyalty."

"I'll... "Natasha stumbled in her words her gaze leaving his on the mirror. "I'll see what I can do."

Natasha and Bucky would spend the rest of the week that they were scheduled to still be on a mission in Siberia locked up in a cottage getting to know each other again.

Clint would spend his in a hospital room fighting for his life.

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