Faceless silhouettes framed the massive screens, while Nick Fury was under the four pairs of prying eyes. "I'm disappointed in you, Director." A black shadow spoke, "You weren't authorized to initiate Strike Team Delta."

Another voice interjected, "What is this anomaly we have been detecting in the past three weeks?"

The ageless man waited in silence, as he continued to take the brunt of the Council's questions. He waited for the opportune time to speak. "S.H.I.E.L.D. has prevented a global catastrophe. The Red Room's Super-Soldier Serum would've been leaked if it wasn't for the team."

"I understand one of the team members is currently compromised. Explain."

"She has no current memory. I have my people working on that issue."

A deep masculine figure sat in the shadows, "Explain Directive 1771. I thought that research was shut down."

"It was part of the Super-Soldier Serum program for the United States. S.H.I.E.L.D. acquired a defector from the Red Room prior to Delta's formation. He was instrumental in reinitiating the directive."

The Council remained silent as the group stared back to the ex-CIA agent. A female voice spoke for the majority, "We'll be watching you, Director. If you are out of line, your program will be disavowed and all operations will cease." The S.H.I.E.L.D. logo appeared on the monitors.

He left the room with more wrinkles to his brow line, but he noticed his two faithful agents stood by the doorway.

"How did it go, sir?" Agent Hill glanced up at him.

"A bunch of pompous asses. You can say no news is good news."

"What are we going to do with Agent Romanoff?" Phil interjected into the conversation. "The team doesn't believe her amnesia is related to the serum that Shostakov injected into her."

"Agent Hill, I'm assigning you to her." He started to walk ahead of them, "And keep Agent Barton away from her."

"Sir…it sounds counterproductive, don't you think?" Maria gazed at her superior officer, wondering what his train of thought was. Yes, the agent still had a slight grudge against the Russian spy, but she wasn't heartless. Not by a long shot. She had seen how the Black Widow interacted with Hawkeye.

"Not at this moment. I don't need two compromised agents. Strike Team Delta didn't start off with a bang." He pulled out his tablet, "There was a strange emission coming from Budapest right after her video feed aired."

"Is it the Tesseract?" She looked over scans with Phil as well, remembering her days spent back in Sao Paulo tracking the elusive blue cube.

"Most likely." He looked around in the temporary headquarters. The helicarrier barely made it out of the desert southwest, but she was sound as she made her way to the eastern seaboard. "We'll need to track it."

"Well look at that." Stark appeared on the bridge, interrupting the agents. He was pleased to see that his technology was holding up. "The bird can fly."

"How did you get here?"

"Let's see…after being nearly killed in New Mexico…and mind you…I was just dropping off technical specs for a software upgrade. This fine officer helped me out of the hell hole." He pointed to Colonel James Rhodes who stood in the background, gathering intelligence data of the recent commotions from the Navajo desert. "You might as well say it was a training incident. That's the usual cover right?" Rhodey ignored him. They were becoming fast friends in the short span of time. "You know where to find me, Fury." He started to walk away from the bridge, "I'll be out of the country. Call me if you need anything else."

Fury shook his head and began to focus on the task at hand before his phone vibrated. "Sir, Agent Carter reporting. We're safe. Directive 1771 is active. Serum conversion is a success."

"Keep me informed."

"Will do."

Both Hill and Coulson looked from their vantage point, waiting patiently for their boss to return back into their conversation. "So how are we going to go about this situation?"

"It will all depend on her."

He chucked his keys across the reflective surface and they ended up colliding into a corner. The past two hours were a blur to him with a flurry of security guards escorting him out of her room. The sense of fear and uncertainty clung to her green orbs. All he wanted was to have her back entirely. He punched into the glass mirror that hung in the hallway, sending the shards clattering to the ground. Mindlessly, he picked at the jagged edges.

"Who are you?" The simple phrase replayed over in his mind.

He walked through his barely used New York apartment with the night skyline projected through the windows. Somewhere out there, she remained in her room under 24-hour watch.

There was a knock on his door. The archer crossed to the foyer and eyed Fury through the surveillance camera.

"What?" He pulled aside the door.

"We need to talk about logistics."

"Funny, you say that." He unbolted the door and let him in.

The ageless man dropped a box on the countertop. "I know you're not happy with the outcome. It wasn't something we expected." The archer crossed his arms on his chest. "You're not going to like what I have to say." A brief pause separated the two as he noticed Clint's bloodied left knuckle. "I'm ordering you to stay away from her."

"What!"

"It's a delicate situation. The Council is already aware."

"And what if I don't?" He challenged his current boss. "You'll lock me up somewhere. Is this how they're going to re-condition her? Make her become an ultimate weapon. Just like what the Red Room tried to do."

"I'm putting Agent Hill on the case."

"Screw the Council and S.H.I.E.L.D."

"You're on a fine line, Barton. I'll be watching." Fury made his way to the door.

"What's this crap?" He pointed to the box, seeing he was getting nowhere in the conversation.

"They're some of Agent Romanoff's belongings from her globe trotting days." Fury closed the door behind him without saying another word.

Clint was beside himself again in the loneliness of his apartment. Seeing Fury made his blood boil. There was no winning with the man. He scooped up the box along with a bottle of vodka and went outside to his hideout on the rooftop. A sharp wind cut from the north and carried the scent of the city with it.

The clear liquid burned his throat and brought some warmth from the night. He glanced at the box, wondering if he should dive into her personal items. His hands reached down and pulled several items up. A vial of lemon-tinged liquid caught the moonlight, and he dumped it back into the box. There was a stockpile of books ranging from poetry to dramas. He thumbed through one of the paperbacks until a folded letter along with a dried, fiery maple leaf fell onto his jeans. In the silver beams, he recognized her cursive handwriting.

It has been 18 hours, and the sun is breaking over the tree line. The red-eyed cicadas are buzzing in the background. I couldn't sleep last night and I thought this would help. I never have been much for words. It hurt me to see you drive off with your grandmother. Truth is…I had to make your nightmare stop. If you hate me for that, then so be it.

I stood by the blue curtains ignoring your last words. You know me by now that I don't listen to people. For a brief moment, I thought I blew my cover as I saw you turn around in your seat.

I'm going to miss the way you look at me with your gray eyes, and that mischievous grin that appears for no reason. I'm not sure what this is going to be, but I'm damn well sure that if we ever cross our paths again, we'll figure it out. You found me once before…you'll find me again.

Thank you for being my friend.

The gravity of their relationship was closing in, but it gave him hope that he desperately clung to. It reminded him of their conversation back in the airport when she was leaving for South America before all the craziness happened. He downed another shot and sat on the rooftop, taking in the city's nightlife. He'll play along with Fury's rules, but the Director didn't mention about watching her from a distance. A small smile graced his hard facial features. He had found his loophole.

Two months later

Her fingers curled against the Glock's barrel. Green eyes narrowed at the smoke screen, but she saw her target through the coalescing wisps. Without thinking, her body moved and sprung from the corner. She fired and hit her target directly into the chest. Already, her eyes were searching for the second target, while a small mannequin appeared out of nowhere. Her finger retracted from the trigger for a split second until she caught the flash. She catapulted herself in mid run and launched herself with a backhand spring, dodging sniper attacks.

Hill watched from the sidelines as the Black Widow finished the course. "Pretty impressive, Romanoff."

She reached over into her duffel and pulled out a towel. "Where did that all come from?"

"Instinct," she jotted a few notes down onto the computer tablet. "You're almost at your personal best."

"I did this before?"

"Pretty sure." The brunette secured the testing area, "I will see you again tomorrow."

Clint had silently watched her from the rafters above. Everything about her was still there. He punched a button on his comm link, Maria spoke in the seclusion of her office. "Still no progress, Barton. Sorry."

He didn't have to say anything. The silence said it all for him. He leaned on the railing, while watching her stash her weapons the way she used to. She paused momentarily, pulling back at the red waves that cascaded down from her ponytail. Clint retreated to the shadows, but his stormy gray eyes noticed she was staring up to where he stood a few seconds ago. A flicker of hope teased his mind, but it would never come to pass. She quietly left the training room with her bag, her hand reached out to flip the light switch.

Autumn had snuck up on the city's occupants. The leaves in Central Park were turning in shades of mandarin orange and ruby. The moon was riding high as he traversed the city block back to his apartment. Automatically he dropped his duffle bag by the front door with his quiver rolling out from the opening. He darted to his window and looked across the busy street. The archer sat on the window's ledge with his legs propped up and he waited. Slowly, one by one, lights turned on. Natasha went to her window and pulled the curtains aside. She stood there with her black coat with a mint scarf wrapped around her neck, never knowing that her longtime friend was guarding her.

There was one spot that came to his mind, and tomorrow will be the day to intervene, whether Fury liked it or not.

Survived my Vegas trip, and I saw KA. The show was awesome!

Alright peeps, I did have some downtime to update. There is one more chapter left! Did anyone notice something about the numbers? And where do you think Clint is taking Natasha?

Leave a review, it would mean a lot to me.

To those who celebrate Easter, I hope you have a wonderful holiday.