Natalia Romanova is seventeen, Timothy Drake is five going on forty.

I don't own 'em!

Madeline Leanne Quinn is stylish, flirtatious, and confident. She moves with ease among the academic and social elite gathered at the gala being held in the small mansion on the outskirts of Gotham City.

The hostess, Janet Drake, is engaged in conversation (tense, unpleasant to both parties) with Bruce Wayne, prince of Gotham, (age twenty-nine, playboy, one of the three wealthiest men in America) as the man's ward, Richard Grayson (age eleven, orphaned at eight, taken in by Wayne five months later) stands by looking bored.

It is Janet's husband however that is occupying the attention of her mark. Petrov Illyich. Her handlers at Красная комната had not told her why he must die, only that he must.

"It'll be at least ten more minutes before they are finished."

Madeline is actually startled. She hadn't heard the child approach her.

Timothy Drake, (son of Jackson and Janet Drake, age five, surprisingly little information on him, beyond the fact that he was apparently some sort of genius and was rarely seen by anyone) looks up at her shyly with little blue eyes, somehow managing to convey an earnestness that often escapes those ten times his age. "Why are you here?" he asks her.

Madeline blinks. "I am attending your parents' party." She says, sounding just like any of the other social-climbers present, mindless bemusement.

The Drake boy looks unimpressed. "No you are not." His diction is oddly precise for a child of his age, with the standard accent of the Gotham upper class. "You act aimless, but you are very focused on the wrong things. My father and Mr. Illyich especially. If you were really who you say you are, you would be trying to get Mr. Wayne's attention. Or Mr. Houtman's at least." He tilts his head to indicate the billionaire and the lawyer in turn. "And you know who I am." He gave her a small smile that was almost heartbreaking in the resigned shrug that accompanied it. (If only she had a heart to break.)

"No one knows who I am. I do not usually attend these events and my parents do not take me with them on their trips either."

(Janet and Jackson Drake are archeologists. Seldom at home in Gotham. They spend approximately eleven months of the year flying around the world.)

The smile goes away and Timothy looks dejected. "It's hard being invisible sometimes."

For some reason Nata-no, Madeline, puts her hand on the child's shoulder.

"And sometimes it is good to be invisible." She says, softer than she knew she could. "It is when you stand out that people want to hurt you more."

Timothy thinks about that for a moment before nodding solemnly. "That's true. But at least it means they haven't forgotten you." He looks over to where Illyich is taking his leave of Jackson Drake.

"I want to be grown up." He says quietly as she turns back to make her excuses. "So I can travel with my parents. Maybe they'll notice me then." She opens her mouth to say goodbye. "I want to be free, like you."

The words freeze in her throat and time seems to stand still as she stands there. The earnest gaze of a five year old child pinning her in place as surely as Зимний Солдат has ever pinned her to the mat.

She knows without looking around that Illyich is leaving the room, her window is closing. It must show on her face because Timo-the Drake Boy's own face turns blank.

"You have to go, don't you."

She nods, mutely. She has a mission to complete, and less than a week left before she must return and make her report. Because she is not free.

But as she slips from the room she knows that she will wait to complete her mission. Wait until Illyich is no longer in Gotham where the child could hear of his death. And maybe, someday…Freedom is a dangerous thing to think of, but perhaps it is not impossible.

One thing she knows for sure, even the mind-wipe that will follow the completion of the mission will not be enough to make her forget Timothy Drake. She has learned how to hid things in the recesses of her mind as the wipes became less thorough these past couple of years. Little things, like the name she thinks might be hers.

The blue-eyed child of Gotham will be one of them.

Красная комната - The Red Room

Зимний Солдат - The Winter Soldier