'Tash this is ridiculous, why are you so angry?' Clint stood on the ramp barring her way. The look of genuine confusion on his face did nothing to alleviate her own frustration. She stepped sideways; he moved to block her escape. 'She was upset, I cheered her up.'

'She obviously believes there is going to be something between you?'

'There is nothing for her to believe!" He said in exasperation.

'I... don't... care...' She lied before snapping. 'Now get out of the way!'

Hawkeye stood his ground. The Widow intimidated other people, he did not subscribe. 'For someone who doesn't care you're being a hell of a bitch about it?' He challenged, folding his arms and refusing to move.

Natasha simply glowered at him, it wasn't a point she could argue.

'For god's sake.' He continued when it became obvious she wasn't going to say anything. 'It was just a damned kiss from a kid who knows no better. You of all people should know a kiss is nothing until both of you mean something to each other, and when I do kiss that someone she will be left in absolutely no doubt how I damned well feel about her!' He snapped. 'Think about it.' So rarely did Clint lose his patience with her it left the Widow open mouthed. Picking up his quiver he turned and strode down the ramp leaving Natasha where she stood.

There hadn't been a chance to speak to Hawkeye since their argument. He had already left by the time she reached the hanger, so she made her way to the back street hotel she would use as a base. She knew Clint would still be disappointed in her lack of faith in him... in them and that he was likely to be sulking.

She opened her bag and, taking out two cocktail dresses,shook them out.

Coulson would be waiting for her to check in. Clicking her earpiece in to place she knew that she had a direct line to the handler. Coulson in turn would also have a coms link to Hawkeye in case there was a problem. She also had no doubt that Barton would be listening in on her coms as well as his own. Many were the times on a mission he would suddenly chirrup in her ear, much to the annoyance of their handler who was trying to keep communication to a minimum. Clint claimed eavesdropping on her missions helped alleviate the boredom when he was on surveillance but Natasha knew he really just liked to know she was ok and she had become dependant on his interruptions for the same reason. He might be angry with her at the moment, but he would still be there for her, he always was.

'Are you reading me Natasha?' Coulson sounded in her ear.

'Welcome to Budapest Agent Coulson.' She responded.

She knew that Hawkeye would have found a nest by now on the opposite side of the city and would be watching his target. Foster would no doubt be simpering in his ear. The Widow blanked out the thought, the girl wasn't a threat.

'Perhaps you can help me. Would you recommend the red or the blue dress?'

There was a definite pause between her question and the response.

'The blue.' The Agent said a slight smile in his voice, 'It matches your eyes... apparently.'

Natasha smiled to herself. Hawkeye was listening.

On a solo mission in Moscow, Natasha had been infiltrating a spy ring. The informant had given up his fellow agents easily and The Black Widow was soon on an aeroplane back to the United States. The flight should have taken approximately twelve hours; however, no sooner did it seem that she had taken her seat, than the flight attendant announced they would be landing in LAX. She had no memory of the entire flight, but she put it down to exhaustion.

Returning to base, Clint was out in the field so Natasha decided to drop in on Coulson and find out what her partner was up to before she even unpacked.

'Natasha.' Coulson acknowledged as the red head strolled into his office.

'Coulson.' She nodded. 'Anything exciting happening?'

The Agent had a strained look that began to give her a sick feeling in her stomach.

'Barton was compromised.' He said quietly.

She raised her eyebrows, not wanting to ask what she needed to know.

'He's pretty beaten up but o.k.' Coulson said, 'fortunately he was able to fight his way out. He plans to make his way across country and 'borrow' an F-16. He should be arriving within the next few days.

Natasha relaxed.

'What was the job?'

Coulson's frown deepened.

'Uzbekistan?' He said, as if Natasha already knew.

She shrugged, obviously completely unaware.

'Natasha. You came to see me three days ago and insisted I tell you where Barton was and what he was doing.'

The Black Widow shook her head. 'Don't be ridiculous, I only arrived this morning.'

Coulson shook his head, the frown lines deepening.

Activating his coms, he asked. 'Agent Hill. Could you please patch me the last three days internal surveillance for Agent Natasha Romanoff please?'

'Right away.'

The monitor on Coulson's wall sprung to life. Natasha couldn't deny that was her walking down the corridor into her room. Later there was footage of her talking to Coulson and even taking time to practice her ballet in one of the fitness studios. She recollected none of it.

Suddenly, the monitor froze. There was a still of Agent Romanoff activating a communications system.

'Hill... can you correlate the systems and tell us what was sent from that console?' Coulson asked.

Natasha stared wide eyed as Hill's voice came back over the tannoy. 'It was an encrypted message, the tech lab are looking into it now.'

'What was the message Natasha?' Coulson said accusingly.

The Black Widow glanced between the monitor and Coulson as if she couldn't believe her eyes. 'I... I don't remember any of it!'

The next few days had become a whirl of tests and medical examinations while the Black Widow was kept under voluntary incarceration in the medical wing. She felt as though her brain no longer belonged to her. To make matters worse she had started to experience odd flashbacks featuring the Red Room. She saw herself dancing, on stage in the Bolshoi, a memory she knew to be falsely planted in her childhood. She was in S.H.I.E.L.D sending a message revealing the details of Clint's mission, she could still remember the codes. Finally, most disturbing of all, a ledger filled with page after page with blood. As she turned each leaf the red stained her hands, her body... it dripped from the pages, gushed until she felt herself drowning. Each time she woke in a cold sweat, trying to block out the images, telling herself they weren't real, when they felt as though she'd lived through it all.

By the time Clint finally arrived she could no longer tell fantasy from reality. Coming into her room, he was shocked to see her cower away in fear.

'Natasha... it's me... you're ok...'

She shook her head, confusion addling her brain. 'No, no, no, no.' she moaned. 'I betrayed, you, I betrayed everyone... So much blood on my hands...'

He sat next to her on the bed. With trembling fingers she reached out to touch the angry purple bruise on his cheekbone extending from a black eye. He winced.

'I'm so, so sorry.' She cried.

'No, Natasha, stay with me, listen to my voice. I'm o.k. it wasn't your fault.' He'd taken hold of her hand. 'They believe something activated a sleeper trigger in you. It was put in as a fail safe when the Red Room brainwashed you. You're going to be all right... I promise I won't leave you.'

She didn't know how long it went on, but she held on to that promise. Every time she woke he was by her side. If she fought he restrained her, if she was afraid he comforted her, and when she sobbed with grief his arms wrapped her tightly until her tears subsided and she drifted into an exhausted sleep.

The most annoying part was he was right... That was how he saw it when she was seducing other men. The mark didn't matter, so it didn't matter. In a business where lies and betrayal were part of the job description it was all an illusion. There wasn't anyone she could rely on to always be there for her, except Hawkeye. He had seen the best and the worst of her, at her strongest and most vulnerable. She suddenly very much wanted to know what a kiss felt like when it could actually meant something.