Disclaimer: Sigh. I don't kill main characters without reason or own the Avengers/Harry Potter.

Ashley Bell

The loud ding of the oven timer pierced the silence of the backroom.

"Ash, can you get that?" The shouted question came from the front of the coffee house. Her boss Teresa wasn't known for being particularly lazy though, so she must have been busy - or focused on a particularly nice looking costumer. Ash picked up a few refill canisters for the drink machine that she had come for and headed to the front. Absentmindedly the nineteen year old fiddled with her locket.

It was a gift from her parents before they died. It was one of the few memories that she had left of them. The doctors had said that the head trauma from the car crash had caused some amnesia. It left large swaths of blank spots in her memory. The memory of receiving the locket was one of the few that survived. She imagined that's why she always felt safer with it on.

The front of the coffeehouse looked exactly how you would expect a coffeehouse to look. The small circular tables littered the room. Too many chairs surrounded the tables and almost all of them wobbled when sat upon. There was the obligatory nook of four overstuffed armchairs that looked to have seen better days - despite the fact that Ash had been there when they were delivered brand new not even a half a year ago. There was a wireless router hidden in the back that allowed them to advertise free Wi-Fi which was becoming necessary for a coffeehouse to have nowadays.

The room was mostly empty. It was right before the lunch rush though so Ash was setting up for it like always. There were a few people scattered around though. There was two English majors huddled together in the nook. Alternatively clutching and whacking away on their laptops like it was their best friend and worst enemy - at times Ash thought she knew that exact feeling. There were a few others scattered around holding their coffee cups like they held the answers to all of the universes questions.

And just like she had suspected Teresa was in the corner of the room flirting with one of the costumers. The man in question was tucked away in a corner of the room -body facing the door, back to wall, eye line of every possible avenue of attack... perfect, just what - and had a rather large duffle bag tucked beneath his seat. The man wasn't particularly large or small. In fact, he would have been practically invisible with his standard clothing except that Teresa flirting with him meant he had to be rather good looking.

Ash smirked a little as she restocked the beverage machine and headed to the oven. Teresa was one of the shallowest women she had ever met and she had the worst luck at picking out men. Ash glanced over her shoulder at the man again. Teresa was headed back behind the counter finally leaving him alone. His short brown hair and sunglasses that seemed fixed on her for just a second. He did seem familiar now that she thought about it.

That's because you know him.

"Did you say something?" Ash asked Teresa.

"What?" The dark skinned woman looked surprised for a second and then shook her head. "No, but I was going to mention my hot date." She turned back around and pointed to the now empty corner. "Huh, that's odd, he was just there."

"So, who is he?" Ash asked and tried to ignore the words that she had been sure she heard.

"It was the weirdest thing. He just walked in here and sat down at that table over there. He was looking around very intensely until I walked over to him. He relaxed after I walked over though." She smiled smugly." We flirted, but after a few minutes he said he had just remembered something and had to go. " She giggled a little and Ash felt a faint sense of revulsion from deep within her. Chances were Teresa was doing the flirting and the guy got sick of it after awhile. "Are you listening?"

"Yes, of course." She looked at her boss for only a second before turning back to the counter. "I just remembered I needed to go do something. If you'll excuse me?"

Teresa nodded, but the stars in her eyes made Ash think she wasn't paying the slightest attention.

Ash sighed slightly and then went out the back door. The alley behind the coffeehouse was just as regular as the coffeehouse itself. Everything was slightly dank and there was a strange smell from the dumpster Ash didn't even notice anymore. It was a familiar friend and enemy because there was only ever one reason she came out here.

She leaned against the door and took a deep breath trying to still her shaking hands.

"I'm not crazy."

Since you're the one talking to yourself I'm guessing you don't quite believe that.

"Shut up." Her shaking hands found their way to her pocket and the pills that had been hastily stuffed in there in the past week. She didn't want to take them, not really, but she never really had much of a choice.

You don't want to do that.

"And why not? It's not like you are the most stable part of me to be listening to."

I'm the only part you should be listening to. The one you've been ignoring these past two years. No matter how much I've screamed at you to pay attention. Believing someone else over yourself is foolishness.

"You are not me." She said furiously. The series of three pills she popped into her mouth she swallowed dry. She was more than used to the rough drag down her throat.

You know they don't start working right away. So you might as well listen until then you stupid girl.

"No, I won't." She ran her shaking hands through her boy cut hair style. She had finally allowed her dark red roots to grow in after two years of dying it blond.

Well, you should. Because you do know that man. He is dangerous and you should be prepared.

"You are just a figment of my imagination and you are making this up. That man is perfectly normal and you are just trying to get me not to shut you out. It won't work." She steadied her hands forcefully and then pulled open the door back to the coffeehouse.

I could just kill that man!

"The costumer?"

No, the other one. The one who forced me here instead of out there. I will too. As soon as I see him again a knife will be stuck in his throat before he could even say hello.

"See, this is why I had to take the pills. Because walking around talking to the voice inside my head that wants to kill everyone isn't helping anything." The backroom was mostly empty except for a few boxes of materials. There was a small counter back here for preparing though. She pulled out one of the cutting boards.

What else am I supposed to do. You live a dreadfully boring life. Imagining killing people is the most fun I get to have.

"Shut up already."

"Ash, who are you talking to...Wooh." Teresa had her hands up in surrender and Ash was more than confused for a second before she spotted the knife clenched in her palm that was pointed at Teresa. She quickly pulled it back in and stared at the betraying limb. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just someone on my mind." She forced out and placed the knife gingerly on the counter, a part of her screaming to pick it back up and defend herself. It was that same part that caused her trouble every morning when she didn't take her gun to work. The gun that she had only gotten because of that part. The very part that talked about killing people. "Say, don't you have a date later?"

"Later tonight. He's going to pick me up here after work. Isn't that just the sweetest?" The sickly sweet tone of Teresa's voice grated her ears.

"Yeah, sounds great." She rubbed her temples and tried not to feel a little bit lonely now that the voice was gone.

The day was beautiful and bright. People were smiling and the sun was shining and the sky was blue and all Ash wanted to do was to crash into her bed and stay there for the next decade. Ash hummed along to the Outcast song emanating from her new iPod earbuds and tried not to stumble over her own feet.

Her mind couldn't hold thoughts well when she was like this. Everything felt fluid and most things happening in the world slipped around Ash without her even noticing them. It was an effect of the pills. They made her feel rather disconnected from the world - floaty - whenever she took them. So she focused on the music and tried not to bump into anything until she got home.

The street that she was currently walking on was a few blocks down from the coffeehouse. It was in the wealthier part of the small town which she had lived her entire life in. Her apartment building was one of the nicer ones. The apartment itself had been left to her by her parents when they passed, along with veritable fortune. A fortune which she had barely even dented in the two years since their death.

She could have moved anywhere in the world and lived comfortably if she had desired to, but something always held her back. She had wanted to go travelling, but every time she packed bags or bought a ticket something caused her to have to stay. The coffeehouse job was mostly just to keep busy, she had never needed the money.

Of course, the job had never really felt quite right, like she was meant to be doing something else, but those feelings mostly disappeared whenever she took her medicine - along with most other feelings and the ability to walk straight.

She waved tiredly at one of the passersby, a neighbor named Trevor, and semi-crashed into the doors to her building. She took a minute to greet the receptionist and head up the stairs.

Her apartment was the penthouse and took up the entire top floor of the six story building, but despite the long walk she preferred the stairs to the elevator - it always made her feel too confined and vulnerable to her. She arrived in front of her door without any trouble and got out her keys. By this time the iPod had switched from the fun beats of Outcast to the slower melodies of Coldplay.

She tugged the buds from her ears with one hand and opened the door with the other. She dropped her keys and iPod in the small disk next to the door along with her bag and headed to the kitchen. Her pills always made her thirsty and a few hours running around servicing Teresa's every whim made her annoyed even through the haze that the pills put her in. She bumped into a table on the way to the kitchen and let out a small curse.

It took a few minutes of stumbling around the kitchen to get her cup of water and then start the unreasonably long trek to her room.

She didn't get there.

In fact, she stopped about midway into the living room because there was a man sitting on her chair that she was fairly certain hadn't been there when she left.

The glass slipped from her fingers and crashed to the floor, water splashing everywhere.

"Hello again." It was the man from the coffeehouse this morning. Ash had a headache.

"I-I-I..." Ash trailed off and looked backwards towards the door.

"No, I don't think so." The man was smiling at her. His spread of white teeth did nothing to distract from the gun in his hand. He looked down at it almost distastefully. "Not exactly my weapon of choice, but it gets the job done."

"I..." She swallowed drily. "I don't know you."

The man raised an eyebrow and smiled at her. "Well, you are still an amazing liar."

"I d-don't know you. I swear." Her head was throbbing, pounding that sounded like someone hitting a door. "Y-you've got the wrong girl." Her voice trembled and her hands shook.

"Oh, really?" He flicked his gun down to the coffee table where a spread of pictures were laid out. She took a step forward to look that the photos without even thinking about it. There was a girl in them, younger than Ash.

"It's not me." It couldn't be because there was one that had obviously been taken in France and Ash had never been out of the country let alone to the Eiffel Tower. She ignored the image that popped into her head - a dead body on a grated floor, Eiffel Tower in the background - because it wasn't right, it never was.

"The gig is up. Technology nowadays is getting so cool isn't it?" He picked up a folder from beside him and threw it on the table. The tag had her name on it.

She didn't pick it up. Her entire body was telling her to flee as fast as she could.

For once she listened to her instincts.

Her hand was grabbing the biggest nearby object and throwing it before she was even thinking about it.

Her body turned around quicker than it had ever done before a complete 180 in less than a second.

And then it failed her.

She had barely taken a step towards the door before she was crashing into the ground - foot tugging on the rug that tripped her - she cursed her pills.

She didn't have much time to do more than that before a body was on top of her, one hand pushing on her back and the other grabbing a wrist.

She didn't think, she reacted. Her body twisted on the ground fluidly. Her legs curled around the back of the man's legs and she pulled forward.

The man twisted her still caught wrist till it was screaming at her and fell on top of her.

The dead body weight didn't stop her. Her fingers dug into the man right beneath his shoulder blade pressing into a small knot of muscles that had the man grunting and turning to the side. She used that to push herself off the ground and wrap her legs around his body and spin.

She was on top of him. Her wrist was still in his hand. She dove her free fingers into the man's wrist trying to make his grip break.

The man bucked and turned. His body momentum was twisting - he was heavier than her - it forced her to move with him.

They were rolling on the floor switching positions of power every few seconds.

The cold steel of a blade touched her navel.

She froze and allowed her body to be forced to the ground again - it had been a distraction.

"I just want to talk. Though this has been a fond trip down memory lane we have business to attend to." The man stood up and held out his hand to her. Ash was confused.

"I don't know you." The pounding was back - stronger. "I'm just a teenager from a small town who works at a coffeehouse."

The man laughed. "Come on. You can drop it now Widow."

"I've never been married." Ash rubbed her temple absentmindedly, it didn't help.

The man's hand dropped and he stared at her now. His gaze was calculating. His eyes ran the length of her body, but it didn't seem sexual in anyway. "What's your name?"

"Ashley Bell." She answered as truthfully as she could. His eyes widened.

"Sit down." He gestured to the couch closest to the coffee table. His eyes never left her as he sat down across from her in the same seat as before. His hand dug into the large duffel he had beside him and pulled out a radio. It took him less than a second to flip it on. "We've got a problem." He spoke evenly and quickly into it and then turned off the radio and put it back in his back. "Who were you parents?" This seemed pointed at her so she answered.

"Robert and Joni Bell. I grew up here. They died in a car accident two years ago." The words spilled from her mouth - rehearsed.

"Wrong." The sharp word hit her like a blow.

"No, it's not." She shook her head, and then figured out how bad an idea that was as her head burst in agony. "I am Ashley Bell, I work at a coffeehouse. My manager is Teresa Helbert."

"Wrong. Who's your therapist?"

Ash was taken aback at the question. "Molly Grisom, we meet every week at Brisban Hospital."

"No, you don't." The man stared at her apathetically. "Pick up the folder." He motioned to the deceptively innocent brown folder on the table. She didn't pick it up, every cell in her body was screaming at her, her head was committing mutiny.

"No." Her eyes moved to stare him in the face. He looked amused for a second before he schooled himself. "Who are you?" She didn't want to know the answer, but the question escaped from her before she could stop it.

"My name is Agent Clint Barton, though you probably know me better by another name." He motioned again to the folder. "Pick it up strawberry, we're not going anywhere until you do."

A smidgeon of rage escaped from her. She glared at him and picked up the folder. She put it in her lap closed. "What name do I know you by?"

He shook his head. "You already know the answer to that question. How did you know how to attack me earlier?"

"I took years of self defense as a kid." The answer appeared in her head without her having to go look for it.

The man smirked. "True in a way, strawberry, but not the way you are thinking." Barton's blue eyes stared into hers. "Where did you get that scar?" He pointed to the one on her lower forearm.

"I-it was a swimming - "

"No. Where did you get that locket?" He stared at the necklace that she had been fiddling with in her hands without even noticing it.

"M-M-My par-"

"No." He shook his head and sighed a little. "We don't have much time left Ash before the cavalry bust in and make you a new science project and believe me when I say they like their science projects. I don't want to hurt you, even though that's what I was sent here for in the first place." He shrugged. "We were never really close, but I always knew how skilled you were. I want to recruit you." Ash's eyes widened in surprise. "I'm sure that's why the director sent me rather than anyone else. You've been off the field of play for a while and we could always use a secret ace. Especially considering your old partner."

"I don't ha-ave an old partner." She told herself as much as him. Neither were convinced.

He shrugged again. "Open the folder."

"Why?" She snapped at him. Her entire body was tense, her head was never ending waves of pain.

"Because you know you want to? Because the spider I knew would never turn down free knowledge."

Spider?

Ash's eyes moved downward without her volition. Her name was on the tag of the folder along with one other name.

Black Widow.

Her head seemed to split open and though she heard a crack she wasn't entirely positive she wasn't just imagining it.

The pain was gone.

The only thing that remained was rage.

The dark-skinned woman stop on the edge of the darkened train platform. Two large bags were placed at her feet. A cigarette dangled in her lips and she stood silently. Her head was bowed slightly looking at the phone in her hands like it had somehow betrayed her.

She took a deep drag of the cigarette and then released it slowly.

There was no more putting it off.

She pressed the green call button and raised the phone to her ear.

It rang only two times.

"They've found her." The woman pulled the cigarette from her lips with shaking hands. It wasn't a cold night.

The silence on the other end lasted for a minute. "You didn't get her out?" The apathetic tone caused her to flinch slightly.

"I barely got out myself. There were truckloads of the guys hanging out on all the roads out of town." Silence. "I tried alright? She snuck away from me to go home early." Silence. "It was one of the ones you knew. I recognized him from the picture you gave me. His name was Hawkeye." She took another drag. "I'm sorry. I tried."

"Your services will no longer be required."

"We good?" The silence on the other end caused her heart to bounce in her chest. "Basilisk, we're good right? I did this for two years, it was longer than either of us thought possible." Her shaking caused the cigarette to drop from her hand. "Please, I did what I could." The begging slipped from her unbidden.

"That will be all, Teresa." Click.

Teresa's hand's steadied a bit and she took a deep breath. She gripped the phone tighter and then with all the strength she could muster she threw it away from her.

She picked up her two bags, made her way into the bus station, and disappeared.

AN: So, a lot of people were angry at me. Maybe some of you still are. Sorry about that - except not really. It was always part of the plan. A plan that I do have. Some people were threatening to drop the story from the last chapter. I hope this made you think better of me. If not, that's cool too. I'm not the best writer on this site or even in this particular Harry Potter/Avengers crossover section. I'm okay, though... I hope.

Anyway, hope you liked it. As always if you spot any grievous spelling or grammatical errors please point them out to me. There are always some.

Thanks,

~Rain