Yelena hadn't said a word about her interaction to any of her superiors when she reported back to the Red Room. None of them questioned her scuffed up state, and when asked by a few of her fellow Widows, she only said her target had put up a bit of a fight, and she blamed herself for not being as on point as she should have been. None of them seemed interested enough to ask again after that, and for it, she was mildly grateful.

Still, she began to notice her own change along with her superiors. In training, she pushed herself harder past her limits. Her form began to reach perfection in hand-to-hand combat, her stealth was impeccable, and her shots hit their target square on almost every time.

Though it was observed silently from the side, not a single one said much, rather she was left with hidden compliments and admiration for her advancements. She didn't tell a soul that the mystery assassin she had intertwined with was the reason behind this, and frankly, she had no intention to.

Three months went by with missions here and reports back there. Retrieving a package and taking out a target or two. Her memory of the operative began to vary in and out, but in each training session where she was met with a live opponent, it came back full force. And for the unlucky one she was assigned to fight with, Yelena usually took her latest experience out on them.

Every time she went out on a night mission, Yelena turned to check her back and kept a close eye on her surroundings. Her escapes were swift and short, and she didn't let any moving shadows get the best of her.

A midnight stake-out of her latest target on a rooftop had finally broken her quiet streak.

The streets were quiet and close together, side alleys jutting in between a few buildings. She found herself on the roof of an old apartment complex, hunched down behind a crumbling emissions chimney. Her grappling line was set and ready by her post, her quick exit down and back up awaiting her.

Through the scope of her rifle, Yelena had squinted to see her target moving boxes and suitcases around his apartment, evident panic on his face. She hadn't been able to hold back a dark chuckle, wanting the night to speed up its routine. Sadly, she had been given specific instruction to scout out beforehand, and she had another two hours on her hand before it was time to close in.

Leaning back up, Yelena felt it crawl up her neck before she saw him.

Just like their last interaction, she felt a chill run up her spine as she kept her eyes pinned forward, acting unaware to the man standing on the other side of the roof behind her. Releasing a heavy sigh, Yelena had carefully hid her hands from view as she slowly reached for the pistol sitting next to her leg. The faint scuff of a boot behind her was all she needed to know for sure.

It was almost dizzying how quickly she had cocked the safety back and rolled up and onto her feet. Her stance low, she kept her gun level as she glared at him from across the roof.

Clad in black again from head to toe, minus the miraculously missing sleeve for his left arm, his appearance looked almost exactly the same - minus the goggles shielding his piercing blue eyes from view.

Every weapon and article of clothing was the same, and the bright red star branded to his metal arm was on full display as he stood and watched her.

Yelena had held her breath as she waited for him to make the first move again. A light breeze rustled the loose strands of hair covering his hidden face. Neither were willing to break the deafening silence first.

It took Yelena a moment to find her voice, and when she did, she spoke the only thing she could think to say to him.

"Who are you?"

She realized how stupid it had been to have expected an answer. He obviously didn't, rather he had stepped down off of the roof's ledge and simultaneously reached for the pistol strapped to his belt.

To hell with it, she fired her first shot.

Taking a single step forward, she aimed for the center of his chest as the silencer over the pistol kept the bullets to light whizzes. She kept her eyes on him when he brought his metal arm up, and two light pings hung through the air as he strode forward.

Yelena's breath had caught in her throat when she realized what was about to go down - again.

He was no more than a few feet away from her. Taking another chance, Yelena followed his movements as he took a quick side step. Her last two bullets bounced off his arm again, and she cursed herself under her breath. The wind brushed itself against her skin as she ducked just in time to miss the swing heading for the side of her head.

Her arm came up just as his came down. She pushed with all the strength she could against him, and one of his own shots hit the roof's concrete. The second one didn't manage so well, and a searing pain exploded across the side of her stomach. He pushed back on her arm with a terrifying strength, and his gun angled itself down. She hadn't needed to look to know the bullet had grazed her, taking a small piece of her Widow suit with it.

Yelena looked to one of her hands still gripping her empty gun. Being one of the only weapons she had left on her, she awkwardly brought her arm across her body with the angle they were at. Just as he had done with his punch, she swung for the side of his head where the butt of the pistol was.

A firm grip tightened around her wrist before it met with his skull.

In one fluid motion, she was sure her arm had come clean out of its socket with how hard he had pulled. Almost losing her footing, she was yanked to the side again as her body flailed like a rag doll.

Knowing that just wouldn't do, Yelena gritted her teeth and absorbed the force with her legs. With her arm still angled across her chest, she took the clear shot at his gut and met it with her knee. Just as quickly, she stepped out again with her wrist still in his grasp and brought her foot to the same spot.

Her opponent only gripped her wrist tighter when he spun to face her. She hadn't needed to see his expression to know he was livid.

With her free hand, Yelena reached across and took the empty pistol. It was somewhat useless, having known he had already seen it coming, but it was still worth a shot as she took another at his head.

He ducked easily, but simultaneously twisted his arm. Yelena just as quickly found herself holding back a grunt of pain that had still managed to escape.

The arm still flailing under his grasp had been twisted behind her, and her body was spun to face the other direction. With her back to him, she felt the cold metal of his grip seeping through the tight fabric of her suit, and her shoulder had screamed for a release before it inevitably could have snapped.

In her position, Yelena leaned forward ever so slightly and whipped her head back. It hit his covered nose, but it gave her the opportunity she needed.

Swinging her leg forward, she had brought it back in hopes of meeting her foot with his gut again. Instead, she almost smiled as she realized she had miscalculated, and her kick landed not so much at his gut, but right between his legs.

Yelena twisted herself back to face him as a quiet grunt of pain left him. She barely repressed a smirk.

Her attention caught again by the available gun clenched in his other hand. The hand on her wrist, though, was occupied with almost crushing it.

Reaching forward, she used the moment of distraction to try and rip the pistol out of his hands. Her fingers laced around the top and she pulled back with only the bullets left in the reloading box. Her shock had been there and gone in the blink of an eye as the hand holding the remainder of the gun swung towards her head.

Yelena had turned away just in time to avoid a direct hit to the face, but the hard metal still struck the top of her head. Her footing stumbled, and she hadn't been able to hold back her grunt.

As she stepped back, a buzzing sensation rushed down her arm, and the grip around her wrist was gone. Clenching her tingling fingers into fists, she looked back at her opponent and was thankful he didn't appear fuzzy. The side of her head was throbbing, and she had enough sense left that there was probably blood.

Yelena watched from a distance as he removed a knife from the hilt on his belt.

His chest heaved in quick pants, but she didn't take her eyes away from his masked face. She could only try to imagine the fury hidden behind his goggles. And it spurred her to take position again, crouching low as he closed the distance between them and swung for her throat.

She had dodged the first attack, turning her body and stepping away in time to avoid any severe damage. But as quick as she was to dodge, he was quick to recover.

The blade had skinned her suit and cut through to skin. She hadn't given him the satisfaction of seeing eyes screw shut or her jaw clench. Everything ached, trembled, and threatened to give out from under her, but she didn't stop. Couldn't stop.

Even when her focus veered away from her opponent to the burn of the bullet in her side, the throbbing headache threatening to split her skull, and the cut dripping blood down her forearm.

He had lunged forward to strike again, but the anger she had seen bubbling just beneath the surface clouded his form. Ducking beneath the punch, she tried for another approach and had brought her kick up to where she was sure skin met metal at his shoulder. Her foot didn't quite meet its target.

Jerking back at the last second, her leg hung limply over his shoulder as his metal arm had come up to wrap around it. It only took one fluid motion, and Yelena found the world turned upside down as she was flipped onto her back and slammed into the concrete.

The air was knocked clean out of her lungs, and memories of their last encounter flooded back to her. Only before she hadn't shrieked in pain, her side hitting the roof first right on the graze of the bullet.

Frantically trying to ignore the scorching pain that had shot up her side, Yelena rolled back up and onto her feet. She forced them to carry her towards the edge of the roof where her loaded rifle still sat waiting to take out its target. Though she had figured it was about to become two.

Her hand had extended out towards it just as she felt something wrap around her middle. A cry bordering on a scream ripped itself from her throat as she was yanked backwards and tumbled back to the concrete.

It had taken all the will-power she had left to push herself up on shaking arms and look down at her stomach.

A thin grappling line nearly identical to hers had twisted around her middle, and she desperately fidgeted with its clips when she heard his quick and heavy footsteps approaching. The moment the line fell loose around her, Yelena scrambled to roll to her side.

A rough tug to her shoulder and she was flat on her back again. One hand pinned her down, while the metal one wrapped itself around her throat.

Yelena tried to bring her head up and grappled to yank him away with flailing hands. Choking on the breath she felt slipping away, his hand only pressed down harder the farther his form hunched over her. His grip was cold and unyielding, and just like with her wrist, she could feel the metal leaving indented marks in her skin.

Her vision blurred together, and between useless gasps and watery eyes, she could see her reflection in his goggles. Their faces were only inches apart. He didn't pull away, only looked at her with shielded indifference behind his mask, like he had done it hundreds of times before. A part of her wondered if he had.

Just as she could feel her head going cloudy, Yelena glanced at her hand clamped around his arm in an attempt to pull him away. An idea sparked, and his grip tightened again.

She had been sure her neck was going to snap in two when she angled her arm towards his shoulder. Fighting the urge to slip into unconsciousness, her hand balled into a fist. The weapon around her wrist glowed a deep red just as she heard it release an electric charge.

It shot from the end and hit where metal met skin.

Yelena heard a muffled grunt as his entire body was encased in a web of red, electric shock. The hand around her throat immediately slackened, and he crumpled to his side.

She gasped for air and clawed her way to a crouched position. Her vision swayed, but she miraculously managed to hoist herself back to her feet and stumbled over to her rifle. Throwing it across her back and into its holster, Yelena didn't bother to check if he had gotten back on his feet.

She clipped the grappling hook to her waist and all but fell over the edge of the roof.

Its loud whizzing finally brought her back to some of her senses mid-drop. Tightly pulling on the line to slow her descent, her entire body ached in retaliation when her feet hit the ground. But she didn't stop.

Finding the will-power to take off in a sprint down the empty street, Yelena had avoided any and all the nearby alleyways, knowing exactly where that had gotten her last time. She didn't let her pace slacken, and ignored the fiery burn that crept up her side and begged her to stop. She didn't until finding a corner at the end of the street, far enough and hidden from view for her opposing operative to find her.

Her breaths had come in short pants. Ears ringing, muscles burning, her throat just starting to show the first signs of bruising. Everything hurt, and everything told her she had failed yet again to best the man in the mask.

Before she had had the chance to truly scold herself, the ground rumbled and an earth-shattering boom had nearly made her jump.

Slowly turning to peek around the corner, Yelena had refrained from gasping as she saw the apartment housing her target completely overrun in flames. An orange and red glow flickered across the entire block, casting monstrous shadows between each of the buildings.

Nonetheless, her eyes snapped to the rooftop of another apartment complex a few rows down. He was just visible over the ledge, metal arm glistening as the flames began to take over the rest of the building.

He had removed his goggles, and those piercing blue eyes she hadn't seen once that night stared down at her. If looks had been able to kill, she would have been dead the moment she had stepped out from around the corner.

Her breath hitched in her throat, and though she tried to keep herself from swaying, her arm shot out to the wall to brace her weight. She blinked once, twice.

And just as quickly as she had seen him, he disappeared back over the rooftops and away into the shadows.

Hello my fellow fanfiction readers!

This is part 2/3 of the flashback scenes regarding Yelena and Bucky's backstory, and I hope you guys enjoyed! I will try to keep a more consistent update schedule, so be sure to keep your eye out for the final part soon to be released. After that, the story of Bucky x Yelena shall begin!

And, as always, I hope y'all have a fantastic morning, afternoon, evening, or night!

-Summerwinds