𝐵𝐿𝐴𝐶𝐾 𝑊𝐼𝐷𝑂𝑊

JEALOUSY

WITH THE HOT SUN BLAZING DOWN ON HER BACK, NATASHA SIGHED IN ANNOYANCE. Wiping the sweat off of her brow, the redhead made her way to her destination – someone with information on Jacob Flake. She knew her informant was flighty, paranoid about every little thing... which is why she didn't tell him she was coming, simply deciding to sneak her way around the security cameras and guards. Holding her weapon close to her, the redhead quickly hid behind a vending machine, holding her breath as the guard walked closer to where she was.

Suddenly, an idea popped up in her head. Pocketing her gun, Natasha prepared herself for what she was about to do. Without any indication that she was here, she quickly wrapped her hands around his neck and snapped it, pulling the guard's body closer to where she was. Wasting no time, she quietly and quickly rid him of his clothes, throwing them on as well as his helmet. Hiding the guard, she made her way out of the scene. She knew if Clint was here, he would've scolded her for what she just did, but Clint wasn't here, was he?

Following the directions she was given, she finds herself in no time in front of the informants' office. Knocking, she waited for the man to answer. "H-Hello?" His voice stuttered, an awkward nasal sound to it. She could see his eyes peep through the peephole, which if she looked close enough, she would see they were red – as if he had been crying, or doing drugs. Natasha figured the latter, with his history. "O-Oh! Come in, come in!" The man exclaimed, unlocking the many locks on the door. Soon enough, the metal door swung open and the man rushed her in, quickly locking the doors once more.

"Thank God, you guys got my call! My microwave broke, and I need a new one," The man rambled, turning around and getting distracted with things around his messy office. Natasha resisted the urge to gag as she watched bugs climb up the crummy walls. Taking his distraction for granted, the redhead took off the helmet, gently setting it on the ground. Thankfully, that seemed to grab the man's attention. Flipping around, his eyes widened in shock, an almost comical look to the scene. He stuttered, stumbling for his handgun on the table, "I-I'll s-shoot!"

Raising an eyebrow, Natasha snorted in amusement, "It's empty," She informed the man. Using his panic to her advantage, she quickly took the gun out of his grasp, pocketing it. Holding up her hands in surrender, Natasha calmly spoke, "I'm not here to fight. You have some information I need."

"...What? You're not here to kill me?"

"Well, I'd certainly like to punch you, considering all of the pervy pictures you have of women on your computer, but no– I'm not here to kill you." She explained, her eyes locked on the pathetic man. "You used to work with Jacob Flake, yes? I've been told that you've been keeping contact with him, allowing him to use some of your safe houses."

He wrang his hands together nervously, his eyes constantly flickering down to the weapons on her. "Uh, yes... I've been helping him. Why do y-you ask?" He asked, rocking back and forth on his feet. Moving forward slightly, Natasha pulled out her phone and pulled up a picture, ignoring the man's flinch. "Recognize them?" She questioned, showing the man the blurry picture of the supposed Widows. "Your friend was a double agent for us at Shield. The people he used to work with would sometimes collaborate with the Red Room, and they want his research – his discoveries for their sick organizations. We need to get this man into protective custody, but in order to do that, we need your help. I need you to contact him, to find out where he is."