When Ethan Hunt sent Jane Carter to bug the Black Widow's hotel room, he was not expecting much. Jane knew how to hide some bugs, but Natasha Romanov was a world-class spy who would most likely sweep her room for the tiny microphones. Besides, there was no way she trusted the IMF team, at least not yet. And the feeling was certainly mutual.

Yet somehow, she missed one. Hunt had sent extra bugs just in case this very situation happened. And it did. Romanov found almost all of the bugs, but missed one little one hidden inside a hotel room plant. Perhaps the Black Widow was not as infallible as her reputation suggested.

Hunt was not particularly surprised at the knock one the Black Widow's door. He expected Brandt to want to speak to his mysterious friend/lover privately, without the eyes and ears of trained agents on them. Little did he know, the IMF team would hear every word.

"Hey, Nat," Brandt's voice was easily recognizable.

There was a pause before she returned the greeting.

"Hello."

"It's been a long time. I've missed you," Brandt said.

Hunt noticed Jane tense at these words. He knew she had a thing for the other agent, but did not feel the need to interfere. Brandt had never expressed any interest in return.

Hunt, Carter, and Dunn all listened to the transmission rather than leaving it to only one person. Hunt said it was to better listen for code and that six ears were better than two, but they all knew that the real reason was they were just too curious. Brandt, who had always been so secretive about his past, suddenly voluntarily brought it into play. There was no way anyone was missing this.

"You sap," Romanov teased.

Admittedly, it was a bit weird to hear the legendary Black Widow use such a tone.

"Why did you tell them we were married?"

Hunt was not particularly surprised by this revelation, but Jane clearly was.

"I didn't say we were married. I said, I was married."

Hunt could almost hear Brandt roll his eyes.

"Come, sit down with me," the Black Widow said cheerfully, "You can rub my feet."

"I live to serve," Brandt retorted, though presumably doing as she said.

The Black Widow snorted in a decidedly unrefined manner. "I wish. You never tell me anything. I only found out who you're working for because you needed me."

"Like you're any better. I still haven't figured out whether you're working for the CIA or another agency."

"And you never will," Romanov responded solemnly.

The couple laughed.

Hunt thought that this was without a doubt the weirdest relationship he had ever witnessed. The husband didn't know who his wife worked for? And vice versa? Hunt doubted this relationship worked very well, but at least, he knew Brandt wasn't selling their secrets to his wife. And it sounded like she worked for the US now, which was somewhat of a comfort, though the IMF had little faith in their CIA counterparts.

"Mmm, that foot rub feels good," Romanov sighed.

"You know what else feels good?" Brandt said suggestively.

The IMF team heard only the shuffling of bodies, and turned the microphone on mute.

"Well, this was revealing," Hunt commented, turning the audio of the hotel room off once it was clear that the couple was finished talking.

Carter agreed. "We don't know anything about Brandt. I'm starting to think that's not his real name."

"No, it's not," Dunn cut in. "He told us that Romanoff knew him by the name Clint Barton, so I did some research. I suspect that's his real name."

"Tell us what you know, Benji," Hunt ordered.

Dunn obliged quickly, rattling off information systematically. "He grew up in Iowa. He and his brother were sent to foster homes after their parents died, when Brandt - Barton - was a preteen. They ran away when they found out they would be separated. Then, they disappear from official records. Clint Barton resurfaces when he is arrested for robbery nearly ten years later. He refused to talk about it, but escaped the hospital in the middle of the night."

"Hospital?"

"He was stabbed," Dunn answered. "After he escaped, there are no more official records. Not like the first time he disappeared, when there were still records of the open search for him. There should be warrants and searches, but there's nothing at all. The government either lost interest in him completely for no reason or-"

"They made him disappear," Hunt finished the thought. "That wasn't IMF, though. He only came to IMF five years ago. Where was he before that?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Dunn answered.

"He wasn't on the run, that's for sure. How did he get the job at IMF?" Carter questioned.

"Good question. Find out, Benji. Who recommended him? What's his resume?" Hunt asked.

Dunn shook his head. "I already looked. It's so redacted I can't get access at all. Someone high up in the chain of command doesn't want anyone to know who this guy is."

"He's on our side, though, right?" Carter asked hopefully.

Nobody answered.

Hunt hoped Brandt was loyal to IMF, but at this point, there was no guarantee. Brandt was not to be trusted. Not trusted, but they still needed him. And Romanoff. Just who was Romanoff to him? His wife, apparently. But how did an invisible American criminal come to marry a born-and-raised Russian assassin? Hunt had no answer to that question.

"We could ask him," Dunn suggested doubtfully. "Get him alone and somewhere safe, just in case, and make him answer our questions."

"We don't want to reveal our hand yet. For now, we trust Brandt, but assume he has some secrets. They don't know we're bugging Romanoff's room, and they don't know that we're on to them. We go ahead with the mission for now, while gathering intel," Hunt decided.

!

"Hey, Nat," Barton said, coming through her hotel room door. He had knocked, but hadn't waited for her to answer.

"Your friends bugged the room. I removed them all but one," she signed in American Sign Language. Then she greeted him aloud.

Few people knew that Clint Barton was mostly deaf. He had lost hearing in one ear and partially in the other during a particularly nasty mission in Ukraine. Afterwards, both he and Natasha had taught themselves ASL as a convenient way to communication, and it was pretty handy to talk secretly as well. Due to practice, the couple could easily have two conversations at once: one out loud and the other in sign language.

"Why did you leave one?" Barton signed.

"So we can feed them information, let them think they have one up on us."

"I don't like lying to them like this."

"I know."

"I don't want to keep secrets from the team much longer. My assignment is almost over anyway, but I don't want to leave without them knowing who I am. And they wouldn't trust me anymore if I just came out and told them."

"We'll figure it out. We always do."

Barton grinned and pulled his wife into his lap. "That we do."