"Ms Rushman," Happy addressed her the next day as he strode across the staff canteen to where she was sitting with a couple of the others from the security team. The man looked upset; he hadn't liked her since she showed him up at the gym.

"Sir?" she looked up.

"You're going to Afghanistan. Mr Stark's going for a weapons testing and he wants you on the team. You too, Miller, Smith, Adams." He nodded to three of the men at the table. "You fly out tomorrow – come get the file at my desk later."

"Yes, sir," the four addressed bodyguards chorused.

"Stark trust you, Rushman?" Miller said. It wasn't meant as offensive; she'd never seen Miller be anything less than cheerful and friendly. The man was in his thirties, tall and big but with softness around his middle.

"Why wouldn't he? I'm on the security detail," she returned lightly.

Smith smirked. "The man's the most paranoid guy I've ever met," he said. "And trust me, I've seen my share of rich guys." He was the oldest of the group, over fifty, ex military, and more mercenary than the other two.

"He doesn't exactly show it," Natasha said. She was testing the waters, baiting them to tell her more. "He doesn't surround himself with security like some of these billionaires I've worked for."

"Worked for a lot of rich guys, sweetheart?" said Adams. "Fucked all of them, too?"

"I don't!" she snapped. Not all of them.

Adams rolled his eyes. "It's only a matter of time, sweetheart. Even if you haven't slept with Stark yet you know he wants to. That's the only reason you're going on this trip at all, he wants to fuck you." The other two men gave him warning looks but he continued. "What, I'm just saying. Why else would he put her on the team? She's been here a week!"

"Maybe it's because I'm good at my job and Stark knows it!" Natasha stood up, grabbed her tray and marched off. She was aware of the men talking behind her; Miller was saying something angrily to Adams, who bit back a retort. She had to admit that, as much as the man was an insensitive, misogynistic asshole, he had a point. The only reason she was on the team was because Tony wanted her to get in his bed. But she couldn't let that show in front of her coworkers. She couldn't let anyone suspect her of sleeping with Stark, at least not more than they suspected now. She needed to be as inconspicuous as she could be.

She could make her move in Afghanistan, she thought. Just enough danger to write it off as an accident. Maybe a bomb in his car, or a weapons test gone wrong. The possibilities really were quite endless...

"My room. Tonight." The whisper brushed her ear on their way to the jeep. Stark walked past her, chatting with Lieutenant Rhodes. He briefly glanced at her and she dipped her head once, in confirmation. She had plans, and they were probably a little more intense than his. It's been three days in Afghanistan – three days of subtle flirting, dropping little hints that she was willing to sleep with him. Tony Stark, being the billionaire playboy he was, had seen the hints and now dropped his own not-so-subtle one.

It was really too perfect. He was setting himself up almost on purpose, like they were actors in a play and he knew his part. She planned on killing him in the bed – she was a Black Widow after all, and despite her practicality she did try to do her job with style. Afterwards she would burn his body to destroy the evidence of cause of death. She would plant a bomb before returning to her own room; when sufficient time has passed to ensure that the body was charred enough she would detonate it. The blast should wake most people on their hotel floor – Stark Industries staff, including the security detail, and a handful of military officers. They would believe the bomb to be the cause of the fire and Stark's death. Natalie Rushman, who would have been in her room watching TV at the time of Stark's death, would be clear of suspicion.

So she got into the jeep behind Stark's with Miller; Smith and Adam were riding with the boss today, along with a military officer. Stark seemed to be arguing with Rhodes, who had gotten into the jeep in front of Stark's angrily. They headed along a dirt road in the middle of nowhere, red dirt spreading out from all directions around them, rivaled only by the azure sky above, unbroken by the slightest wisp of a cloud. They were heading away from the weapons testing site to the military base, and even the sturdy jeeps bumped along the road.

BOOM! The road exploded into flame and debris. Natasha's jeep was thrown backwards and flipped over. In the millisecond before that, she saw the smoking remnants of Stark's vehicle ahead of them. Someone was screaming. The jeep jarred to a halt and she was upside down. They all were. It took a second for things to click – the jeep was on its roof. Her ears were ringing, her vision distorted by black spots. Next to her Miller was bleeding from a gash in his forehead. One of the soldiers was dead in the passenger seat. The soldier who had been driving was unconscious but breathing.

Natasha took a deep breath. Her lungs filled with dust and she coughed violently. Tears streamed from her eyes, and the world sharpened when she wiped them away. The window next to her was mostly shattered. She kicked it out, using her boot to clear the last pieces of glass flinging to the frame. Then she climbed out, ignoring Miller's shouts for her to stay put. Enemies soldiers were firing at them, the roar of machine guns almost drowning out the sounds of dying men.

"Get back in, we can't have a civilian running around!" a soldier yelled at her. She ignored him and raced to what remained of Stark's vehicle. Adams was bleeding profusely from a deep gash in his side. Smith was stuck, his leg trapped between pieces of debris. Stark was nowhere to be seen.

Natasha contemplated leaving him. The chances of him walking out of this alive was minuscule, particularly since he wasn't even in the vehicle anymore, nor anywhere close to the battleground from what she could see. But her damned pride rose up in her like a beast, territorial: Stark was hers, and no one else could lay their hands on her kill. She couldn't fail this mission, not when it was the highest prize she could win, and certainly not when the threat of Hammer was hovering in the back of her mind like a dull ache.

So she searched for him. She grabbed a gun from a fallen soldier – automatics were more useful right now than her usual pistols – and looked for Stark. She could see where he must have gotten out of his jeep. A few drops of blood were on his seat, probably his judging from where they'd fallen, but not serious enough to worry her. She followed the prints he left in the sand. The marks were scuffed around by the uneven lay of the land, and the dozens of feet that have crossed it. She stood up straight and looked around, brought her machine gun up and shot at the militants aiming at her.

That was when she saw him. He was struggling and shouting while four men shoved him into a jeep. She fired at it, but it was moving fast, and soon was out of range. She could do nothing as the vehicle carried Stark – and with him her bounty – away. Within minutes, the rest of the terrorists were getting into their own jeeps and, as suddenly as their attack, they were gone.

The military officers flew into a flurry the moment they got back to base. Phone calls were made, orders were given, and finding Stark became first priority. The Stark Industries staff huddled together in a tent, looking numb with shock. The security team were a little distance away from the staff. Miller was slumped in his seat, wearing a defeated look. Smith on the other hand sat calmly, hands on his knees, back straight. Adams, who had just been cleared from medical, was pacing the floor in spite of the doctor's warning to keep still. Natasha, too, couldn't keep still, but she kept her agitation under control; she sat next to Miller, legs slightly apart, elbows resting on them. But she couldn't help the way she jiggled her leg nervously.

"What do we do now?" Miller said in a hollow voice.

"We wait, son," Smith said. "This is the military, if they can't find the boss no one else can."

"I don't like waiting," Adams said in a growl. "Why don't they tell us what they're doing? What are they gonna do?"

"They'll tell us when they've got something," Natasha said. "We've just got to be patient."

But patience did not pay off. By the end of the day there was still no sign of Stark or his captors. Rhodes arranged for vehicles to bring the Stark Industries personnel back to the hotel while soldiers remained on site. As soon as any sign of Stark turned up, they would know, Rhodes reassured the anxious group.

Natasha got back to her hotel room, feeling empty. This was supposed to be the night that she would kill an unkillable man and loosen the noose around her neck. Only that man had probably gotten himself killed before his little tryst with her. On top of her frustration she was dusty and tired and wanted nothing more than to hit something. She was seriously considering going to the hotel gym for some boxing, when her mobile rang. She checked caller ID; it was unidentified.

"Hello?"

"Ms Romanov, how nice to speak to you again!" She knew that too-smooth voice and her stomach coiled.

Her eyes narrowed. "What do you want, Hammer?"

"A little bird told me that Stark was taken captive today. Under your watch, too. I'm afraid this doesn't look well for you."

The thudding of her heart was so strong she was convinced it would jump out of her chest like in some cheesy cartoon. "I'll find him," she promised.

"You'd better," Hammer said. "I have this file in my hands right now and I'd really hate it if it slipped… say into the US government's. I'm sure the Red Room, for one, wouldn't appreciate it."

"I'll find him," Natasha repeated, dread filling her belly. "I'll spend my whole life looking if I have to. Until I find him, dead or alive."

Sorry for the delay, I promise that I'll update sooner this time cause I have an idea of where I want this to go.