[Business as usual in the Romanova-Barnes household. Natasha's juggling, Bucky's mental, and Florence is a mini-teenager.]

'Tell us what you did with the codes.'

'Codes? What codes?'

The slap reverberated around the empty room. Andrei Nikolaev despised striking women - normally. But this one, this one was proving to be an annoyance and a bit of an exception too. She'd taken out several of his agents already in a bid for these codes - stolen in themselves from the Kremlin.

He had heard a lot about her too - this….Black Widow. She didn't look tough. He stepped back and appraised the woman in front of him. Average height, red-headed, pretty. And playing hardball.

'The missile codes you stole from our agent. Please try not to be so carelessly dumb.'

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

When his hired help had captured her, she'd had a small hand-gun on her, a pair of gaudy bracelets, a wallet of cash and a phone tucked inside that tight catsuit - he was almost curious about where she stored them. But she did not have the missile codes. Now they'd have to torture the location out of her.

The phone had laid dormant throughout the capture and interrogation - made inaccessible by some kind of password they couldn't immediately crack; now came to life in a series of seemingly shriller tones. Someone really wanted to get into contact with the red-headed intruder in the black catsuit who was even now, trying to look casual as she was tied to the chair.

Touching it brought the screen to life - and the caller ID only listed it as MANTIS below a picture of a very sullen looking girl. A quick glance at their captive and it was clear that the girl in the photo was related. There was no hiding that hair. Daughter or sister, possibly. They looked remarkably alike.

'Can I get that?' Their captive asked boredly.

There was nothing to lose by letting her answer it. She had no idea where they had taken her and the room was filled with large, heavily armed men. It was possible she may even tell them something they had not discovered yet. Like the location of the missing codes. 'We will need the password.' He noted.

'How do I know you won't look through it?' She replied coolly. 'I could have naked selfies on there.'

'You want to answer it, do you not?' Andrei asked evenly.

She rolled her eyes. 'The password is florencestopstealingmyphone.'

That raised an eyebrow. 'An unusual password.'

'I have a tech whizz at home.' She bit back. The phone was tucked into the crook of her shoulder and despite the situation, she beamed. 'Hi sweetheart. I'm at the office. I can't talk.'

There was a series of punctuated buzzings and the redhead frowned. 'He did what?'

More buzzing.

'It's a flesh-wound in a non-vital area. It'll heal.' Eyebrows around her were raised. She caught the eye of Nikolaev and rolled hers. Kids, eh? 'He makes a habit of it. I am quite aware of your father's reputation. Yes, that includes as a psychopath.' Her eyes scanned the room, seemingly idle as she replied 'No, I can't teach him manners the Soviets didn't. I'm a little tied up at the moment. I can't drop everything and-'

The interrogators were becoming impatient. Tools were being laid out around them as she talked. Looked like they were not going to be gracious for much longer.

Widow grumbled. 'Can you hold on for just one minute?'

There was a series of angry punctuations as the phone was dropped.

'What do you think you're-!'

'This is amateur at best.' She butted in rudely. 'You didn't even tie my legs down. Bad move.'

As if case in point, one slender foot came up and hit Nikolaev between his legs. He cursed, wheezing and retching as he backed off. The hired muscle were suddenly at a loss at what to do. Some stayed back - waiting for orders - the ones that charged forward to subdue her ended up getting beaten by a woman with both arms tied behind her back.

The phone was still buzzing and twitching on the floor, the voice coming from it was animated as Black Widow back-slammed an opponent into the wall with the chair which gave an ominous splintering sound.

Suddenly, this crazy woman had legs and arms free and the men who had hung back regretted not trying to subdue her earlier.

After that, it took less than thirty seconds for the fight to be over and for Widow to saunter back over to the phone and pick it up as Nikolaev retched, on his hands and knees some feet away. 'I'm back.'

She listened and then sighed. 'We're wrapping up. I'll be on the fastest flight over. It's not even bleeding anymore - yes I know how much of a piz'da your father is. Trust me. You wanted the training, as I recall. I'll be there soon - it's a flesh wound.' She repeated irritably as she ended the call and stuffed the phone into her bra.

Black Widow picked up the bracelets that Nikolaev had found so odd and slid them onto each wrist, stuffed the wallet down the front part of her catsuit to join the phone and grabbed the back of Nikolaev's suit with one hand as the other held a tight grip of the pistol. He resisted until she twisted his arm and forced the pained man to comply.

Being a working mother was a bit of a juggling act - more often than not she ended up juggling with knives.

A/N: Piz'da is a swear word according to google. I'm not telling you what it is, that's what the internet was invented for.