Helooooo there…It has been awhile. Hope all is well. Thanks for following and favoriting (err..is there such a word?) this story. I'll try to keep up with my updates but there were a lot of new stories coming up and I was caught up reading many of them.

Anyway, I hope you guys like this.

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Chapter 6 – Memory

Natasha heaved a deep breath and blinked her eyes at the light that came out from the barred window high in her cell. She was exhausted and cold and worried about Barton. She hadn't heard anything about Barton from her captives regardless how many times she demanded to know. They only laughed at her and left her in her cell alone the whole night. They send in breakfast in a paper plate and cup. No plastic forks or spoon. The menu was a blob of liquefied something and plain water. Natasha had not yet touched the food or the drinks suspecting that it could be spiked up.

She closed her eyes and dropped her head to the wall behind her and replayed last night dinner with Clint. She had enjoyed herself with Clint and she knew that she could only be herself when she's with him outside the base. Clint was very patience with her even when she fought him during their early days. He could see right thru her and nobody, even during Red Room, could read her so clearly like Clint could. She wondered sometime how did Clint managed to do so.

She remembered the fateful day when she was looking right up to the black shiny arrow that was aimed at her throat after she tried to escape the burning hospital.

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She was distracted by the screaming and the shouting of help from the poor occupants who had failed to escape the building. She could still see their hands from the barred window but the image of a small doll held by a girl frantically trying to squeeze herself from the grilled door caused her to falter in her steps. She had to stop and lean on the wall of one of the building at the back alley after she had run few blocks away from the burning hospital. Her choked sobs drowned the noise of the siren and her tears clouded her vision. When she pushed herself away from the wall she realized that there was a man standing in front of her. He was wearing black pants and shirt with a black vest. She recognized the emblazoned insignia on his chest and the signature shade that he wore. The purple pattern on his vest confirmed the story of the rumors about the world secret assassin. She knew who he was and the black recurve bow and quiver sealed her fate that day. Hawkeye has come to claim her.

He had already knocked the arrow and aimed it at her. His aim was steady but his face was unreadable. They stood staring – well Natasha couldn't see his eyes but she knew that he was staring at her - and Natasha tried to snake her hands to her side for her knives. The sound of the bow being pulled taunt caused her to revert her eyes back to him.

'Don't. Just don't.' His voice was deep and husky. His lips were thin and the muscle on his arms was incredible that Natasha only noticed them bunched with dry mouth.

Get a grip, Widow. You are not some 16 years old school girl being ogled by a man for the first time, albeit quiet a handsome man.

Natasha wanted to slap herself for having that kind of thoughts in a middle of stand-off. She straightened herself slowly, quiet aware that should Hawkeye felt threaten, he could released the arrow and she doubted she could avoid it. She raised her hand slowly away from her body and slowly smiled at him.

'Well, what do I owe the honor of having the amazing Hawkeye tracking me down. I heard that you are supposed to be taller.' Natasha quipped at him while struggling to find an escape route.

Hawkeye didn't release the pull of his bow at all and she was amazed at the strength of his muscular arms and aim. She knew how difficult it was to hold that position and not wavered from the stance and aim. Hawkeye's feature did not change.

'Turn around.' He ordered her. Natasha held her head high and looked him down from her nose.

'No. If you want to kill me you have to do it while looking at me in the eye. Think you could do it?' She smirked at him. Her mind was looking whether he faltered or moved so that she could read his actions.

Damn him for being stilled like a beautiful Greece god statue.

What? Natasha blinked. Her mind was everywhere except from finding a way to save herself.

What is wrong with her? Natasha frowned and cursed herself for dropping her mask. Why her thoughts betrayed her now. She is the Black Widow. She is Alpha not some stupid airhead girl. She cursed herself in Russian out loud.

'Дурак!' (Idiot)

Hawkeye tilted his head. Natasha swore she saw a smile on those lips.

'глупая девочка,больше нравится (a stupid girl, more like it)', he growled at her.

That was not part of the rumor, Natasha blanched. Rumor said that Hawkeye spoke no Russian, but here he was, chastising her in her mother tongue.

'I am not a stupid girl. Don't you know who I am, Hawkeye?' She taunted him.

'Of course I do, Widow. But I did not expect the widow to be quite an emotional girl. You do know that your face just told me a lot. Didn't they teach you to mask your face in front of your executioner?' Hawkeye voiced mocked her and her cautious flew out of the window.

She launched herself at him, dropping to a tuck and roll, catching his leg. He released the arrow and she could felt it nicked her shoulder. The pain stung her but did not stop her attack. Her leg swiped his but he managed to back flipped and knocked another arrow ready and dropped low aiming directly at her eyes. Natasha stopped mid crouch and stared once again at the glistening arrow head.

'Do that one more time and I. Will. Not. Miss.' He hissed and the sound of the bow being pulled taut caused her eyes to focus on him. He still has his damn shade on but his face was stern and angry.

'Don't move, Widow.'

'Can't I just …'

'No! Move and I can promise you that this would be your last memory.' The threat was very clear and so Natasha did not move from her position. Hawkeye slowly uncurled from his position and walked behind her. She tried to follow with her eyes when he started moving.

'Stand up and turn.'

Natasha slowly raised herself and stood raising her hand high. Her hand travel to her front uniform and removed a small knife hidden between her breasts. She was about to turn around and throw at him when she felt a sting on her shoulder. At first she thought that it came from the wound on her shoulder but when her vision started to blur she looked at him who was capping a syringe.

'Rest now. We'll talk later.'

The last vision she saw was his smile. She thought she heard him said something before she collapsed but she was not sure. If she still alive after this, perhaps she would ask him.

'отдыхаю свойпаук (rest my spider)

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Natasha smiled at the memory. That day marked the day she learned the meaning of the word trust. She knew Clint could release the arrow when he first spotted her at that back alley but he made a different call and now she owed him her life. She still had some reservation on the issue but she knew Clint trust her. The thought of Clint and the lack of information on him caused her to wonder where they held him.

A sound from the door startled her and when the door opened she wondered what would Clint do now if he knew who had them captive. She waited for the man from her past to come in and taunt her once again. She had kept silent when he first revealed himself to her last night. All these years she thought that he was dead. She had held the memory and locked it deep in her heart, never surfacing unless she found herself in Budapest once again. She took a deep breath and looked at him and waited for what would come next and prayed that Clint would be spared from her secret.

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Hehehe...till next week…

Shila1378