Red in My Ledger
" I've got red in my ledger. I'd like to wipe it out."
-Natasha Romanoff ( Black Widow)
It was dark. It was quiet. Too quiet. A lithe figure crouched in the shadows. Her head cocked and her hand already darting toward her gun on her hip. She was waiting, waiting to pounce any second. Another figure came strolling the dark alley, clearly unguarded and alone. She tensed. The man seemed unsteady on his feet. As he came closer, she caught a whiff of stale alcohol. Clearly drunk. She grinned. This will make the job so much easier…..
It was dark. It was quiet. And Clint Barton would like to keep it that way. But good things never last.
"Get up. Fury wants us in the debriefing room," Phil announced as he shook Clint awake.
Of course, if anyone else had tried that, they would have staggered out with an arrow impaled in their neck. But this was Phil, and Clint would recognize his voice anywhere. Even in the midst of Clint's worst nightmares.
"Nooooooo, go away Phil," Clint mumbled as he tried to hide under his covers. Agent Coulson threw a manila folder into Clint's face.
"If you don't show up, I don't show up. If we both don't show up, Fury's going to overturn the entire SHIELD base looking for us. So get up," Phil sighed. Clint groaned and rolled out of bed. Phil was staring disapprovingly Clint's rumpled SHIELD uniform on the floor. He was already in his crisp business suit with another file loosely tucked into the crook of his arm.
Director Fury was waiting very impatiently when they entered the room, with the thinnest file Clint has ever seen. Clint and Agent Coulson both sat down across from Fury. He handed the papers to Phil as he glared at Clint.
" Wait, is that it? There's barely any information in there!" Exclaimed Clint as he leaned over and plucked the file from an unsuspecting Phil.
" I take it you both have heard of the Black Widow?" Fury demanded. Clint finally looked up from his file.
" What? You're joking, right?" Clint asked, surprised.
" I never joke," Fury deadpanned, fixing his one good eye on Clint.
" He never jokes," Agent Coulson confirmed. Clint rolled both of his eyes, pointedly at Fury. He stared back unflinchingly.
"Black Widow is one of the most dangerous women in the world. I suggest you take her very seriously,"Fury growled. Agent Barton looked indifferent.
" When are we leaving?" Coulson asked, always the professional.
" You were supposed to have at least 2 hours to prepare, but thanks to Sleeping Beauty here, you have about 30 minutes." Fury said, glaring at Clint. Clint scowled.
The man's eyes widened as he saw a dark figure leap out from the shadows. Pain. A strike between his eyes and he saw no more. The Black Widow crouched over the body and dragged it unceremoniously to the large dumpster conveniently located on the right. She stood up, brushed herself off, and slunk back into the shadows as fast as she had come.
" I hate different time zones," Clint complained as he trudged behind Phil into their safe house. He flopped down into a sad looking, saggy couch and promptly pulled out the file. Phil gently pulled the paper from Clint's grasp and told him to get some sleep. Clint didn't even bother setting up his cot. He just fell asleep on the couch.
Clint sat up and groaned. He should have stretched. He massaged his right arm muscles as he stumbled into the kitchen for coffee. " I hate mornings," Clint grumbled as he grabbed his bow. Phil looked up from the earpieces scattered on the table.
" I know you do," He smirked as he handed Clint one. Clint sighed and grabbed his quiver as he headed out the door for surveillance.
Clint crept along the roof, making sure to keep silent to not tip the red haired assassin off. She darted into an alleyway. She sure seemed to like those. She sank into the shadows, even though it was 3 in the afternoon. The archer raised a hand slowly to his ear. " Phil, I got visual on target," He whispered.
" Any civilians?"
He swept the area with his eyes, catching every crevice, opening, and dip.
" No,"
" Take the shot,"
Hawkeye cocked and loaded,the arrow pointed at the target, until she wasn't there anymore. He blinked. He frantically scanned the alleyway with no avail. " Phil, she's gone," Suddenly, he felt eyes on his back. He cocked his head, heard quiet measured bursts of oxygen behind him. Breaths. An almost indiscernible hiss of metal. A blade being drawn. He tensed. That gave him away. A whoosh of air behind him. The blade, coming down, aimed for his right shoulder, his drawing shoulder. A stab of panic shot through him as he spun around and ducked under the knife without thinking. He leapt back to get a clearer view of his assailant as another knife went sailing past his head. A mane of brilliant red hair whipped across her face as she finally pulled out a small pistol, holstered to her hip. Hawkeye lunged forward for the gun because he did not need to get shot on a mission as important as this. The first bullet missed, and the second hit his quiver, still strapped to his back. Hawkeye grabbed the gun, ignoring the bullets as they scattered uselessly onto the roof, and yanked it out of her grasp. The Widow pulled back. Hawkeye frowned. Something was very off here. He mentally went through the file again. The Widow supposedly preferred close range fighting so why was she backing away now? The Black Widow had very accurate precision and marksmanship, though nothing close to Hawkeye's, but….
Hawkeye jerked back to reality when yet another dagger came spiraling towards him. He narrowed his eyes when the blade somehow missed him and hit the generator behind him instead. He had been in enough fights to know desperation when he saw it. The wild inaccurate throw confirmed it. Another blade flew and cut a gash on his left forearm. He grunted. Maybe not that desperate. Still, definitely not up to her usual standards. He advanced, bow drawn and arrow loaded. Her eyes flashed. She tossed two small pellets towards him. He instinctively dodged them but the small metal pieces flew straight to his arrow and latched on. His arm burned and suddenly went numb, causing him to drop his weapon. Magnetic. He groaned. Of course. He had overlooked that small detail. Her name. Black Widow. Spinning a web, twitching a few strands to draw her prey closer, until rendered completely trapped and helpless. But Clint Barton was a quick healer, he could feel the tingling coming back to his left arm. The Black Widow lunged, closing in for the kill, but Hawkeye was faster. He grabbed her arm and wrenched it backwards with a sickening snap. She suddenly realized that she was backed up to nothing but air, her nimble feet teetering precariously on the edge of the roof. Without her noticing, Hawkeye had slowly advanced and prompted her to the end of the roof. All her options, gone. Jumping off the roof would be suicide. She finally tilted her head up and looked at Hawkeye in the eye for the first time. Clint froze. That look.
"Agent Barton? Clint? Hey Clint!" The earpiece crackled in his ear but he couldn't answer. That look. That expression. He had only seen that once before in his life.
In a mirror.