Sorry, update a day late. Thanks for the reviews and following : ) it always makes my day!

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STRAYS

*Chapter 2*

Shadows were lurking around him. Faceless enemies were circling him and Clint Barton couldn't seem to find a way to lay a hand on them. They always seemed to be a step ahead of him, anticipate his moves, knowing where and when he'd attack. They had managed to isolate him in a dark room, weaponless and without his hearing aids he had to rely on his instincts alone. How had they managed to trap him there, he still wondered…A sudden shift in the air informed him of the arrival of a new adversary. He tensed and readied himself. Whoever was coming, he'd get him and all the others and get out of there.

The newcomer approached cautiously –so they knew how dangerous he could be. His enemy sprung forwards, tried to aim for the head. He dodged and threw a punch that missed. A kick hit him in the abdomen and he was thrown on the floor. He felt a new fist arrive and dodged swiftly, kicking his opponent's leg underneath him. Surprisingly, his enemy did not fall, but Barton still managed to catch his arm and pin him against the closest wall. Soft hair brushed his face. A faint scent of lilac hit his nostrils and he momentarily froze.

He knew that scent. He knew that scent too well. No matter how many years would go by, he would never forget.

"Nat?"

His hesitation earned him a punch in the temple and he hit something hard behind. A hard leg in his ribs cut his breath and a last hit on the back of his head sent him crashing on the ground. Falling halfway knocked him out, but Barton didn't lose consciousness. His body felt heavy and unmovable, his mind, oddly, cleared a little and his vision returned; a little blurry, but enough for him to see a redhead woman cautiously leaning over him. His chest arched, but from a different pain.

"Nat, 'that you?"

She stood there, stared at him in silence. The seconds ticked, and he was soon able to distinguish her face better. Her hair was shorter than the last time he'd seen her, she had lost the features of youth that she still bore when he first met her –she was barely nineteen back then. She was an older looking Natalie Rushman, an older version of his Natalie. But she was still as stunning. A faint smile appeared on her face.

"Hey" she whispered.

"Hey back." He wanted to touch her. He wanted to feel if she was real or an illusion. An illusion probably, since it had been nine years and her file was secured at a higher level that he could ever hope reaching so he had no freaking idea where she could be. Plus, there was no way she'd smile at him after all this time. And then, why would she come back to him anyway? "So, you're here to kill me again?"

Illusion-Natalie's faint smile disappeared.

"Don't be an idiot." She replied, and he felt a shiver through his bones- oh God he had missed her voice. She picked up something from her belt –a needle and a sample of brown liquid. Clint chuckled weakly.

"Well you can, y'know. I'm not going to stop you. Not that I think I can anyway, 'can hardly move." He muttered, fixing her intensely. "And as long as you're the one doing the killing, it's okay with me. Just don't miss this time, 'kay?"

He thought he saw a flare in illusion-Natalie's eyes as they shortly traveled over his chest and back on his face.

"I am not here to kill you, Clint" she snapped, glaring at him. He chuckled again, liking the way she looked when angry. A true spitfire. Was it normal, he wondered, to feel so giddy even after all these years?

The needle dipped into his neck but he barely felt it –his whole attention was on her. Her hand –gloveless fingers- brushed his forehead. Her skin was cool against his and he closed his eyes, reeling in the feeling. He thought he'd be disgusted if he imagined her touching him again, that the resentment and anger would be too strong. He surprised himself by craving some more. Nat's hands were always soft and tender. Unless they were in bed, getting rough -then her nails would dig deep into his back and he'd proudly wear the marks for a full week.

"Damn, you have a high fever." she muttered as she pulled back her hand.

"Do you get to play my nurse?" He shouldn't be joking. He should hate her with all his guts. He did hate her with all his guts. Where had the resentment gone?

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Barton."

"I thought that was the reason why you loved me." There was no reply this time, just her keeping busy doing whatever. Barton closed his eyes, pushed aside the pang in his chest. That was why he was a stupid fool; he still wanted to cling at her, even though he knew now that she never reciprocated his feelings. "So, is there another sucker you got your hands on?"

"Stop acting like a kid" was her sharp reply. His environment wavered and invited him to join darkness.

"I knew you were here to kill me." He muttered, somewhat amused. At least everything was going smoothly. Last time had been painful and messy and a pain to clean up afterwards. "Black Widow, my angel of death."

"The injection was an antidote; it's supposed to make you sleep off the virus in your system." Illusion-Natalie replied blankly. "You will wake up in a couple of hours with a hell of a headache but you'll be fine."

"Will you be there?"

"You know that I won't." She paused, then added softly: "You won't even remember, so it's oka-"

With the remaining strength he had, he caught her hand and squeezed it. Sweat formed on his forehead as he fought to stay awake a little longer. She was an illusion, but a nice illusion. It had been a while since he'd last had one, and so vivid.

"Then I don't want to wake up." Her eyes widened in worry, and he smiled. "Living without you was just…I love you so much Nat; you have no idea how much I miss you."

Were those tears he saw forming in the corner of her eyes? Nah, he thought. His Nat never…

She leaned forwards and kissed the corner of his mouth. His breath got caught in his throat when he felt her soft lips brush his, tenderly, like she always did when he needed comfort. Damn the woman and her special creepy body-language-bordering-on-mind-reading skill. No wonder why she was such a good spy.

"I love you Clint." She tightened her grip on his hand and bent forwards, closer to his ear. "When you wake up, come and find me. We'll be waiting."

He blinked. Her breath felt very real, her scent was overwhelming, but he was losing consciousness. He squeezed back tightly, his heartbeat suddenly racing when he understood.

"You're real." She smiled weakly, her free hand caressed his forehead tenderly. The realization made him panic; he didn't want to lose it. He didn't want to lose her, not yet! "You're…"

Darkness was too overpowering this time. With a last protest against fate, he closed his eyes and drifted into unconsciousness.

The train compartment wasn't crowded and for that, Barton was thankful. A hit in snowy mountains was the last place he had expected to be sent, but apparently SHIELD has no qualms about the location when it came to putting down a war lord. Now he understood why Maria had given him a bag containing a suit and a white shirt; his SHIELD uniform would have been way out of place in here. Still, he hadn't expected his exit road to be a train in motion.

After changing in a secluded bathroom, he headed towards the lunch wagon and looked around. Now, how was he supposed to blend in without appearing suspicious?

"Hey handsome." The speaker was a young woman sitting at a corner table, alone with a Caesar salad. He raised an eyebrow at her but let the corner of his mouth tug up. She was in her early twenties, he evaluated quickly, long wavy red hair falling over her shoulders, piercing green eyes and pouty red lips stretched in a sexy smile that hardly disguised her intentions. "You alone right now?"

"Unfortunately" Barton replied. She shifted in her seat, her tight, red T-shirt pressing closely against her lovely breasts.

"Why don't you come and keep me company? I'm kinda bored."

"You? Bored? I doubt a cute girl like you find it hard to get some distraction."

"If you're talking about the bozos, I already tried. They are boring. So?"

Barton took the bait and sat down. He had time to spend anyway and no-one would suspect two people involved in a conversation. He ordered lunch, they chatted a bit. Her name was Natalie Rushman, he introduced himself as Jeremy Brandt. She flirted and he replied easily, but when he said he was on a business trip to New York, she shook her head.

"You're not from this train. I saw you jump from the top of the tunnel earlier." She said nonchalantly. Barton didn't stop chewing although a hint of panic spread in his chest. He did grin though, as if not taking her words seriously yet deciding to play along.

"You have a bright imagination sweetheart. Let's say, what if I was what you just said, why invite me at your table?"

"Figured you'd need help blending in." she replied with a shrug before picking another slice of pie. "I'm not scared of you, and like I said, I'm bored." Her knowing eyes narrowed in amusement, and Barton just felt she knew why he was here. Perhaps she did, or at least suspected.

"Shall I say thanks?" he asked sarcastically. Natalie smiled sweetly and shrugged again. Just his luck, he thought, to fall on a young woman who had no problem helping a potential criminal.

"Not yet." She nodded outside and he followed her gaze. Suddenly, he realized he must have been really distracted by the redhead for not noticing it earlier. The train was slowing down. People were starting to ask questions and the staff mentioned an accident on the road. Barton's senses got on high alert as he thought he recognized one of his followers running around. Natalie didn't bulge, but her eyes were fixed on his face.

"Need a better place to hide, honey?"

He had no idea why he blurted the next question, but Barton did anyway:

"You have somewhere in mind?"

The mischievous grin held some serious promise, and he felt something inside his guts twist in reaction.

"Ever watched North by Northway?"

Natasha still wondered what in hell had pushed her to whisper those words in Barton's ear. She had no claim over him, wasn't sure she wanted him to find her. Her departure had left him broken and she knew how much he had suffered; how the almost-year she had spent with him had influenced him. In a twisted part of her mind, a little whisper replied it was fair game. He had changed her life drastically as well after all.

Alice –or rather Milla, as she called herself when off-duty- was waiting for her when she stepped out of the base. The ex-Ukrainian mercenary raised an eyebrow at her sight, feeling her partner was upset.

"What did the boss want?"

"The surviving agent from that last mission was still halfway drugged." Natasha replied slowly. "I was the only one strong enough on the base to…stop him."

"And that's turning you all upside down? Nah, what's truly bothering you?"

The redhead leaned back against the passenger seat and crossed her arms. True enough, her heartbeat had yet calmed down and she needed to be in control. Still, talking to her partner was the best way to cope. After all, Milla had enrolled in the STRAYS team for the same reasons she had. She would understand.

"The guy we saved? He was Hawkeye."

"Ah" was Milla's eloquent reply. They had been partners long enough to know each other's history, and Natasha had mentioned her affair with the agent during a night discussion. "Did he recognize you?"

"He told me he still loved me. I told him to come and find me." Milla shook her head in disbelief.

"You're nuts Red. What will you do if he does?" The redhead's mouth thinned into a line and her eyes narrowed. Her shoulders tensed.

"He was halfway knocked off by drugs so he won't remember anyway." Natasha muttered before adding softly: "But if he did, I'd tell him the truth, about the reason I nearly killed him."

"And what about Jeremy?"

Natasha closed her eyes and rested her head against the headboard. She sighed heavily, trying to modulate her racing heartbeat. When she didn't get an answer right away, Milla turned the ignition on and drove off. It wasn't until they left the base that the redhead spoke:

"The kid would be thrilled. And Hawkeye deserves to meet his son."

Milla snorted and took a left turn.

"You're a goddamn optimist, Red. Now get some rest, I'll wake you up when we get home."

Did you guys recognize who I took Alice's character from? Next chapter up next Friday!