Jamie was almost positive that if she picked up the large steak knife situated on the counter to her left she would be able to cut the tension in the room rather easily. Since they had returned to the safe house, she and Clint had been sat in silence in the kitchen. The only sound the two of them hearing is that of their breathing and the occasional clink of their cups hitting the counter in front of them. She could hear his mind churning from her seat across the room, hear each sigh leaving his lips as he waited for her to speak, waited for the answers to leave her own lips and taint the air around them.

But she couldn't tell them, she couldn't speak of the toxic history that followed her. Her ledger was so full of red she was almost certain no other colour existed, only red. SHIELD liked to think they knew the whole sordid details but in reality they only knew half, they only knew the more tame missions in which she had taken part.

A sigh of impatience leaves her companions lips and she glances over to see Clint has lifted his eyes from where they rested on his now cold cup of coffee, the two of them long since abandoned the idea of drinking them and instead were nursing the dark liquid as though they held all the answers in the world. Her brown eyes meet his own as he stares at her, his jaw clenching slightly as he studies her.

"Who is Braydon" he sighs, the first one to break

"I guess you could call him my handler" she shrugs nonchalantly

"When did you meet him?"

"I've known him my whole life" she answers vaguely

"Did Braydon have a soft spot for you" Clint all but growls

"Highly doubt it"

She knew she was angering Clint with her less than informative answers but she had to protect her past, he couldn't know. He would never look at her the same again if he knew half of the stuff he had done. Steven was lying when he said she's killed over a thousand people, at last count it was near ten thousand. She even lied on her kill list wanting to hide the true number of people whose lives ended at her hands.

"When did you have your accident?"

"I was young"

The harsh sound of metal scraping across the floor meets her ears and she looks over to see Clint stood from his seat, his feet carrying him in an agitated pace across the floor. She stands from her own seat as well and heads towards the exit. Looking over her shoulder at the man in the room she does feel sorry but it was better for him this way.

"I'm off to bed. Night"

She retreats before he can utter a word and all but runs up to her room shutting the door behind her. Leaning against the worn wood she glances around the room and sighs, the place reminded her of a police cell, a single bed shoved against the farthest wall, a small enclosed wardrobe and one set of drawers against the wall near the door. A door to the bathroom was located to her left and was about the same size as a box only holding a toilet, sink and shower.

Slipping out of the trashy clothes in which she wore for the night she grabs the shirt hanging on the end of the bed slipping it on before grabbing the covers and climbing underneath, her body shivering slightly at the cold chill of the material. Lying down on the stone feeling pillow she lets her eyes close and her dreams drift in, anything to help her forget the shit storm waiting for her outside the closed door.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The air was harsh and cold as she was unceremoniously pulled from her bed and dropped onto the cold concrete floor, her knees scraping against it leaving small trails of blood to stain her skin. Looking down on it she feels tears well in the corner of her eyes from the pain but tries to hide it, tears were weakness and weakness wasn't allowed.

"Get up" A voice barks

She scrambles to her feet quickly making sure to stand as straight as a pole, her head tilted down and her hands clasped firmly behind her back. She glances quickly at the shoes in front of her and notices they are closer than normal; the person wearing them was no doubt intrigued by her just like they all were.

"Follow me"

She allows the mysterious person to leave first and trails behind them like a lost lamb, her head still tucked into her chest, her only guide as to where she is going is the shoes ghosting across the floor in front of her. They walk for what she thinks must be ten minutes, her body growing colder under the thin night shirt that was covering her small body. Soon they come to a stop outside of a room and her ears make note of a keypad being pressed before the door in front of them opens on a groan.

She follows the shoes into the room stopping as he does her back straightening and her hands once again clasping together tightly behind her back. The first guy converses with someone else, his Irish twang telling her who he was.

"Lift your head and look at me"

She does as she is told, her brown eyed gaze landing on the two men in the room, one she recognized but the one she had followed here was new. She hadn't seen him before and if the look on his face was anything to go by, she didn't want to again.

"My dear sweet Serena it has been a while"

"Braydon" she nods, answering as she had been taught to do "You look well"

"Why thank you child" Braydon smirks "This is Marshall"

"Hello"

Marshall nods at her in reply, his green eyes flashing as they travel up her body starting at her feet landing on her face a few moments late. She cuts her eyes away from his and onto Braydon's blue ones. He sends her a small smile before walking over to her and coming to a stop behind her, his much larger stature dwarfing her childish frame. She feels Braydon's breathe on her ear and reminds herself not to cringe, her eyes staring forward unwavering.

"I want you to kill Marshall"

She goes rigid, her eyes widening as Marshall drops to his knees in front of her, his bowed just like hers had been but his eyes stayed trained on her. Braydon presses something into her hands, the feel of it colder than the room they were currently stood in. bringing it in front of her she notices it as the gun Braydon always carried, the same gun that had left bruises and cuts across her face for as long as she could remember, the same gun she had grown to fear.

"N…N…No, No I can't" she whimpers, her hands trembling as she looks down at the gun "I won't"

She glances at Braydon who was now stood on her right only for her head to snap to the left as he brings his fist down onto it forcefully. The force would cause anyone else to fall to their knees but she had learnt how to control her body against the attack, make it so she remained standing and only her head moved.

"Yes you will" Braydon growls now standing in front of her, he harshly grabs her chin forcing it forward and her to face him "You will point that gun at him, pull the trigger and end his life"

"And If I don't" she whispers, the words feeling foreign on her tongue

"Then that bullet becomes lodged in your brain instead"

Braydon stands back up and moves out of the way allowing her to see Marshall once again, his stature the same as it was before his eyes still levelled on her as though she held his life in her hands which funnily enough she did. Raising the gun she notices that it's heavy, too heavy for her small hand but it was also shaking due to her hands doing the same. Taking a too large breath she looks over at Braydon who nods in what could only seem as an encouraging manner she looks back at Marshall.

Lining the gun up with his hand she pulls back on the trigger, her arm jolts backwards causing a small cry to leave her lips but her eyes were trained forward. Watching as Marshall drops to the floor, blood oozing out of the wound she had caused. Dropping the gun to the floor she drops down onto her knees, the force reopening the wounds on her knees that were caused earlier, her hand gripping her stomach as she dry heaves, her body having nothing of worth to throw up.

"Good Girl Serena, there is promise for you yet"

Jamie shoots up in the too small bed; she breathes in harsh puffs, her whole body covered in a cold sweat causing the nightshirt to stick to the skin along her back and chest. Taking deep breathes she manages to calm her erratic heartbeat as she remembers the dream that had caused her the distress.

She had been six years old on that fateful night when she was dragged from her bed by the man she would later kill. It had been her first kill, the first time she had seen the life drain from someone's body and the first time she had ever handled a gun. For the next two years she was trained how to use them as well as how to use her fists as weapons when guns weren't available and then the day after her eighth birthday she was sent on her first mission where she again had to kill, this time a man and his wife. To this day she still doesn't know why they had to die; she didn't know why any of her marks had to die.

It was also ten years after that time that she stopped using the name her parent's had given her two months before she was kidnapped by SRT and her parent's murdered. The same name Braydon used to speak like a prayer as he watched her take down other agents in training, or as she was using her ability and learning her limits and then extending them.

Serena Marie Ellwood.

She had killed two people called Jamie and Louise three days prior to her name change, she was freshly sixteen and sent to Budapest where two people were hiding after pissing off the SRT. Her and Braydon were sent in to find them and end them. They played the father/daughter card learning all they could before finding the couple early one morning. Braydon got all the information out of them and she killed them. Three days later she starting using their names as her own, Snow came from the fact that she loved it, loved how fresh and clean it looked in the beginning but always ended up dirty by the end of the day. Sort of like her hands and soul during a mission.

She had been using the name for over fourteen years and still didn't know why, why she used the names of two people she had killed as her own. She believed she was a masochist that was why, tormenting herself by throwing her past in her face every time someone mentioned the name.

Throwing the covers off her bare legs she stands up and pads over to the door pulling open, she notices the dark hallway and the soft snores coming through the door in front of her letting her know Clint was still asleep. Closing her door gently behind her she pads downstairs to the kitchen, flinching at the brightness of the light as she turns it on. Grabbing the kettle she fills it up and turns it on whilst readying herself a cup of tea.

As she waits for the kettle to boil she walks over to where her laptop was sat on the table and turns it on, knowing she wasn't going back to sleep anytime soon, a quick glance to the clock on the wall telling her it's two in the morning meaning she was going to be awake for a good few hours before Clint joined her in the land of the living. Hearing the kettle boil she makes her way over to the counter pouring the boiling water into the cup and watching as the teabag coloured the milk the way she liked. When it was just right she drains the bag tossing it into the trash and adds three sugars, needing the boost after the draining her body had undertaken due to the dream.

Grabbing the cup in her hands she pads back over to the table setting the ceramic down on the wooden to next to her laptop before settling herself into the too hard chair. Tucking one of her legs underneath her she pulls up her web browser and begins to check her emails. She smiles as she sees one confirming the anonymous donation she made to Vicky's café. She had truly loved the old woman and hated the way she had left things so using the money in one of her many offshore accounts Jamie had made a generous donation, enough to see that Vicky could sustain the place for many years to come and also do all the repairs that needed to be done.

The next few hours Jamie spent looking over her various email accounts she had in different names, moving the location of her money from one offshore bank account to the other, changing aliases and deleting some that she knew where now common knowledge, as well as creating a few more for future reference. All the while taking sips from her too sugared tea in the meantime, making a new one each time she finished the one previous.

At Six O'clock she had drank around five cups of tea and had done anything and everything she could to keep herself busy but now she was bored. She had ideas running around in her head and no one to bounce them off, she wanted ordered chaos, and she wanted someone to help her figure out this though the world decided it liked her for a change she hears Clint moving around in his room upstairs and grabbing her cup she jumps up from her chair and walks over to the kettle putting it one. Preparing her tea and Clint's coffee she opens the refridgerator and grabs the bacon and eggs setting them on the side.

She knew Clint and knew his brain wouldn't function to the capacity she needed it without food and coffee, so she made the two drinks before setting about making Clint his breakfast. She wasn't hungry, she wasn't a eat in the morning type of person. Just as she hears Clint's booted feet hit the bottom step she finishes dishing out his breakfast and walks over dropping it on the table next to his coffee. As he walks in the room she settles back into her previous seat and pulls up the game she was playing before.

"Food and Coffee are on the table" she comments dryly as he passes ignoring her as though she was a piece of furniture

If she didn't know him well enough she would have been offended but it was just who Clint was, he didn't speak in a morning until he had inhaled at least four coffee's and maybe two portions of food. This was the reason why she had piled his plate so high it could feed an army for a month and had the coffee machine turned on ready.

She watches as he pulls out the chair to her left and drops down into it with a quiet thud before grabbing the knife and fork and all but inhaling the food in front of him, once again for probably the hundredth time since she met him, making her wonder where the hell he put it all. Clint could eat like a horse; he could probably eat a horse. Yet she knew under his all black attire he had a lean, toned body. It wasn't overly muscular like Steve's had been but it was toned enough, toned enough to get her attention many a night.

Shaking her head and ridding herself of the imagery floating around in her brain she plays her game, occasionally drinking her tea as she waits for Clint to wake up fully, he does so a few moments later after inhaling two more cups of coffee as well as all the food she had placed on his plate.

"Thanks"

She nods and looks up from her laptop to see him staring at her, his eyes betraying nothing of his thoughts.

"We're out of eggs and bacon" she comments shrugging "And small question, how do you function on your missions without you customary breakfast of shit tons of coffee and food?"

Her question is met by a laugh from Clint "I don't sleep"

"Thought so" she smirks

She watches as Clint glances towards the tea stain beneath her cup before he glances back up at her, worry colouring her features making her frown.

"I've been up since two" she answers already knowing the question "And I didn't want to wake you as I needed to do a few things to do which occupied my time"

Clint just nods his questions answered and takes a sip of the still too hot coffee, she notices the twitch telling her he burnt his tongue and reaches to her right before throwing a file at him, a file she had the time to make up whilst doing all of her other shit.

"What's this?" he questions placing down his cup and grabbing the file

"Braydon McLeish" she states before taking a sip of her tea watching as he reads the file over with trained eyes.

She didn't hold anything back in the making of it, only the parts that included her. She knew a mind like Clint's, a mind trained the same way as her would be able to handle the harshness of the words included.

"So he was your handler" Clint questions, his tone taking on a more clipped and direct approach.

"Yes and many others. He was solely behind making sure we could take down our targets as well as getting in and out without anyone knowing we were there"

"Did he ever take on missions?"

"Yes" Jamie nods "He did a few with me when I was younger. We pretended to be father and daughter, sometimes Uncle and Niece"

Clint nods and shifts through some more of the paperwork, stopping on the page which contained the list of all the houses Jamie knew Braydon owned or had some interaction with. She didn't know how many were still functional but it was a start. She tells Clint as much and is met with another nod.

"I'll get SHIELD to do some digging, maybe they can find out if they are still active"

"What do we do when we find him?" Jamie questions, she knew what she wanted to do but if Clint was her partner he needed to have a voice in the matter

"Extract what we can from him and then you get to put a bullet between his eyes"

The way Clint said it made something clench in Jamie's stomach, the non committal way Clint spouted the words reminding her of the fact that neither of them were normal, they were trained killers who took like because they were told to, because they knew how and in Jamie's case because she was raised to.

"He won't give it up willingly" she comments instead, her voice dry due to the rather large lump in her throat "He trained us all how to keep secrets"

"Then we send in someone he didn't train and is very good at extracting secrets from reluctant people"

"Natasha" she queries

"Tasha" Clint confirms "But we'll only call her in when we find the son of a bitch, we don't need any more people in the firing line"

"true" Jamie nods "But this could be a long ass chase"

"Then we make it count"

Jamie frowns as Clint stands from his seat and begins pacing around the room again, his hands running over his face in an agitated way as though he was trying to figure out a rather complex maths puzzle and couldn't figure out the answer.

"Do you know if SRT have any corporations directly linked to them in America, not Viper, SRT itself?"

"No" Jamie replies shaking her head "It's an English only based corporation, I guess that's what Viper is for"

Clint nods and continues his pacing, occasionally mumbling to himself. Jamie stands from her own chair and walks over to him placing her hands down on his shoulders to stop the pacing. As he looks at her she becomes conscious of the fact that she is still wearing only her night shirt and also happened to be smaller, her head tilted slightly to be able to look at him squarely.

"Breathe" she commands softly "And for fuck sake stop pacing your making me dizzy"

He chuckles at her words making goose bumps flare up across her skin; she takes a cautionary step backwards and turns on her heel heading back towards her seat. Distance was what they needed; they couldn't fall back into old ways. They had a mission.

"We could shake Viper's tree a little" she supplies "If they want me so bad they'd do anything to shut me down, which if I avoided enough and disabled enough agents, with your help of course Robin Hood, Braydon would have to step in and shut me down himself"

"Would he though?" Clint questions walking back towards the table and this is exactly what she wanted, another brain like hers to throw ideas off.

Why did she break up with him again?

"Braydon trained me personally. I was SRT's number one agent and not many were anywhere near my level only person who was…"

"Braydon"

Jamie nods "So if I caused enough of a riot he would have to come in and personally clean up his mess. He created me In a sense, he shuts me down"

Clint nods and taps his fingers against the table "We need to do it in a way that gets you noticed, but it can't be in the same town, maybe hit a few one after another and make sure either your face Is seen or your tattoo is"

"Or I could just leave evidence of my ability behind"

"How"

"When I've used it a burn mark is left behind, same as any fire but mine has a sort of pink and blue hue to it. Sort of identifies it as otherworldly I guess. If that evidence Is found they will know it's me, plus it gives us time to get in and out. Because think about it, if anyone sees my face or tattoo they'll just try and kill me instead of letting me leave"

"True" Clint agrees "Plus some places we'll have to disable the security cameras which then throws that idea out the window"

"Exactly"

The two sit in silence as they think things over, it seemed strange for Jamie to have a partner. The only times in the past she had one was when she was with Braydon and then it wasn't exactly a partnership, just him telling her what to do and when to do it. But with Clint she had to remember that he was her partner and his life was on the line just as much as her own was.

"That could work" Clint mumbles after a few breathes "Disable a few guards you leave a calling card for all intents and purposes and we move on to the next location before they know it"

"You make it sound so easy"

"It is, you're just over thinking things"

She had to laugh at the ironic spin of the words, she had said the same thing to him in regards to her plan last night and here he was reminding her of them. She had to admit the situation was mostly the same, she could still get identified and killed but this time they wanted at least one part of that to happen and it wasn't the latter.

"Well you think whilst I go for a shower"

She stands from her seat again and heads towards the doorway, only stopping as Clint's voice meets her ears.

"You know you can talk to me about anything right" he says and she looks over her shoulder to see him staring her, his face looking like the Clint she used to know, the Clint who wasn't a SHIELD agent and trying to keep her alive.

"I know"

"I mean it Jamie, I don't care about your past because I have one. I Just want to understand you"

"That's a puzzle you'll never solve"

"Maybe not" he agrees "But I mean it Jamie, you can tell me it all and I won't judge"

"Maybe one day" she comments heading out the room

Because maybe she might just tell him, something in his eyes told her his words were true. He wouldn't judge, he wouldn't walk out on her leaving her alone. Or maybe she was just reading too much into it and really did want to solve the puzzle as to who she truly was and will disappear at the first chance he gets.

She guessed she'd just have to wait and see.

Comments about the past would be awesome. Did I overdo it or did it explain a little about Jamie's past whilst still keeping you all intrigued.

Anyway hope you enjoyed it. Love you all.