She walked down the narrow path, staying in the shadows. Her red hair made her stand out, even though it was half covered by a black hood. The streetlights flickered around her, never landing exactly on her. Once or twice, she was caught from the darkness, the shadow of her body visible before it disappeared so fast you'd had thought you had imagined it, a trick of the light, not seeing her pressed against the brick wall, waiting for the peering eyes to leave before she continued her secret walking. Every so often she would stop, spinning round as if she was being attacked, looking carefully around her, as if checking to see if anyone was following her.
Eventually she reached her destination; an old, broken down shack, barely supportable, yet still standing. The brown paint was peeling, the windows cracked and dusty and the walls full of termites. She glanced around once more, scrutinising everything she saw. Apparently satisfied that she was alone, she opened the door, cursing in a different language as it creaked loudly, revealing her position to possible threats. Shutting the door, she stood, waiting with her gun in her hands. She knew what was going to happen, she knew before he did.
The door blew open and a man wearing purple and holding a bow stood there, dust raining down on him. She didn't wait and nor did he. She pulled the trigger, he released an arrow and they were both rolling away. Their shots fired into the night, not deafening but loud enough to leave ringing sounds in their ears.
She stood first, pulling the trigger again, aimed at his back, not meant to kill, but to paralyse. Nothing happened, other than a loud banging sound. She swore under her breath as she checked the chamber, finding it empty. He was already on his feet, smirking at her.
"Out of ammo, sweetheart?" He smiled. "Too bad. You could've killed me."
"Shame I didn't," she hissed, furious for wasting her last bullet like that. She ducked, an arrow flying over her head, exploding the wall behind her. "You just had to ruin my last safe house." She sounded angry, she knew she did, but he didn't seem fazed.
His bow wouldn't be much help to him, not in close quarters, but that didn't deter him. He shot arrow after arrow, some exploding, some knock outs, some with rubber gloves on the ends (she glared at him after that one was fired) and some even with poison dripping from the end. The twanging sound of a bow being drawn and released filled the air.
She pulled a knife from the sole of her sneaker and he stopped as it reached his neck. She scowled as he smiled smugly again, not at all worried that she could end his life with one swipe of her knife. The blade gleamed, a tiny droplet of his blood the only imperfection.
"You won't kill me, sweetheart. You'll want to know why I'm here, what my organization has against you. I've got to much info for you to kill me," he said.
She scowled at him. "Don't call me that. And I know why you're here, Mr. I've-killed-too-many-people-to-go-unnoticed. I've got too much information that you need to know but don't to go left alone."
"Ah, but you'll be much more agreeable telling me, rather than anyone else, anyway," he said, sounding certain.
"What makes you say that?" She knew what he was going to say, but she asked anyway.
"Because you're out here, not at all well armed and you're base is in Russia, not Germany. And you know, being a highly trained thinker, one tends to notice these things." He smirked at her. "I'd say you've run away."
She snorted. "You'd think that, wouldn't you?"
"Would I?" He asked.
She didn't answer, instead focusing on assessing his weakness's and his strength. He didn't seem very good at hand to hand combat, but she could be wrong, however unlikely. Her trainers had taught her to never be wrong and this was no different. She ducked, swinging her leg up towards his head. He caught it just before she kicked his nose, effectively breaking it. He swore but didn't pause fighting.
"Back up might be needed," he muttered into his communicator, as she swung her leg round and kicked him to the ground.
He gasped for breath. She straddled him and aimed the empty gun at his head. He knocked it out of her hands and flipped them over, holding her beneath them.
"Never mind, back up not needed," he murmured into the comm.
He aimed his last arrow at her, straight at her heart and got ready to release it. But when he looked into her eyes, he couldn't make himself kill her. She had the eyes of someone who had been controlled all her life and knew that if she didn't die, that was what would happen for the rest of her life. The eyes of a trained assassin. Someone who had lived, but never really lived. Eyes like his, when he'd first been offered a job by the people who had tried to kill him, an escape from the life he'd lived.
"Do it. I dare you. Please," she begged. "Kill me."
He released the arrow. But he didn't aim it at her. He aimed it at the wall. He heard her breath catch as she realised that she wasn't going to die. She seemed a little disappointed. He ground his teeth.
"Come back with me," he offered. "You can have a job, an escape. You'll have a better reason to kill. They'll send people to save you if you get caught. I'll help you."
"Why?" It was the first thing that entered her mind. Why would he do this for someone who he had tried to kill. Who had tried to kill him. Who had killed so many others that her ledger was gushing red like a waterfall. "Why would you do that?"
"Why?" He asked. "Because I've been in your situation before. I grew up with men who killed for fun, with fake names such as Bobo the Clown or Roger the Ringmaster, disguised as part of a travelling circus. I took part in these activities. They brainwashed me, saying they were the good guys and anyone who disagreed was bad. I believed them. But then I was told to kill a man who had worked on the opposite side to me for all his life. He told me that there was no such thing as good or bad, regardless of your reason to kill. I shot him dead. But I started to believe the man I'd killed. I ran away. I joined SHIELD. And I killed again and again but this time with the better side. There's no such thing as the good side and the bad side in war. It's the better side and the worse side." He grinned at her. "So whaddaya say? Will you come with me?"
He saw the look of temptation in her eyes and body language. He knew that he had to make her agree. He couldn't not and then be at ease with himself. He'd be beating himself up everyday.
"Won't you get in trouble?" she asked.
"You've already changed. You're asking after my safety that my boss won't kick me out and wipe me if I bring you in. Yes, I'll be in loads of trouble. No, I don't care and yes, it'll be worth it," he said. "Coming?"
"Why the hell not?" She grinned for the first time and he felt better already.
Three days later, they walked into SHIELD base and were surrounded by agents with guns. Director Nick Fury stepped forward.
"Barton, what were your orders?" He asked.
"Kill Romanova and don't come back until you do," he recited.
"No, don't call me that," she said quietly, standing beside Barton stiffly, poised like she was ready for a fight.
"You don't like your name?" Fury said, arching an eyebrow.
"No. They chose it for me. I don't want to have anything to do with them ever again." She glared at Fury. "You can take me wherever you like. Just don't call me Natalia Romanova."
Fury thought for a minute. "Agreed."
She smiled and held out her wrists for them to handcuff. One did, quickly, stepping back before she could hurt the agent. Another agent stepped forward, looking quite a bit more commanding and senior. She led the red headed killer down the narrow hallway, the walls a shining white. Natalia squinted as the light hit her full on before her eyes became accustomed to it.
The female agent opened the door to an empty cell, waited until she was in before closing and locking the door.
"She's in," she said into her comm. Her voice seemed harsh and cold, like decades of hunting down criminals had left her with no emotions.
"Thank you, Agent Hill," Fury said, his own voice toneless as well.
"No problem, sir. Are we sending in interrogators?" Hill asked.
"No." Was the answer.
"No? Why not?" Hill asked, confused. They interrogated every single criminal, assassin or even just threat that they had.
"Because she won't tell us anything. She's trained not to."
"She seemed fairly agreeable coming here."
"Because she wants to get away. Not spill their secrets everywhere." Fury sighed. "You can send an interrogator in if you like, but I'm telling you now, she'll only say what she deems unimportant."
"I'll send someone in," Hill said, though she sounded less confident than before.
"Okay."
Hill left the redhead sitting cross legged on the floor, staring into nothing. Ten minutes later she came back, this time with Agent Barton. Barton was scowling and glaring at the ground, looking exactly like a sulky teenager.
"In. Now." Hill pointed at the door. "Now."
Barton took one look at her expression and went in. "Hey, Red."
Natalia didn't even look up. "Go away."
"I don't really have a choice, Red. Now, I don't know the first thing about interrogating-" Barton started to say.
"Confuse them," she said.
Barton paused. "What?"
"Confuse them." She gave him a long look. "Don't tell me you've never interrogated someone. Please don't tell me that."
"Too late. This is my first time." Barton grinned. "Sadly, I have to try on the one person who will never spill their guts."
"I might," Natalia said. "For the right price."
"What do you want?" He asked curiously. This was new to him. He hadn't made deals with the enemy before.
"I want SHIELD to stop chasing me. I've got enough problems chasing me without your lot. In return, I won't cause you any trouble," she offered.
"Don't, Barton," Hill said, sounding like the next thing she'd do would be to shoot someone.
"Shove off, Hill," Barton growled. "We've got a deal, Natalia."
She glared murderously at him. "Don't call me that."
"You don't have another name, Red," he said, amusedly.
"Well, then find one!" She said angrily, standing up. "Just not that one!"
"If you want a different name, you make it up," he scowled.
She glared at him but didn't say anything for a while. "Natasha Romanoff," she said finally.
"Okay Natasha, have we got ourselves a deal?" He asked.
"Barton, don't you dare!" Hill yelled, her voice angrier than it had ever been before. "Fury will murder you!"
"That's a shame." He sighed dramatically. "Too bad I won't be there." He unlocked the cell door and held it open for her. "Let's go, Natasha."
Hill trained her guns on them. "If you take one more step, I will shoot. I don't like you, Barton. I'll shoot you and not feel anything, so don't think you're off the hook."
Natasha narrowed her eyes. She took one more step. Hill's finger wrapped around the trigger. Something glinted in her eyes, something like a challenge. She took another step. Hill fired. The bullet flew out of the barrel, spinning in the air, and bounced off the walls. Hill had missed. Or Natasha had dodged.
Hill nodded appreciatively. "You're good."
"I know," Natasha said simply.
"And not it all modest, it seems," Hill muttered.
Natasha shrugged. "I know I'm good. What's the point of saying otherwise?"
"Did your lot teach you that?" Barton asked.
"Barton, I may have grown up there, but that does not mean I like or listen to everything they say," Natasha snapped.
"My name is Clint, not Barton," he retorted.
Natasha scowled. "Whatever Clint."
Hill cleared her throat, reminding them that she was there. "I have a better idea than running away."
"Well?" Natasha arched an eyebrow.
"Barton doesn't have a partner. He needs someone to deflate his ego and save his sorry ass. How about Natasha becomes your partner?" Hill suggested.
Clint and Natasha stared at each other in horror. "I don't wanna work with that!" They yelled.
"Well, tough luck, suckers. I'm talking to Fury about it tomorrow. You bought her in, Barton, you have to face the consequences," Hill said.
"Oh, so I'm a consequence, am I?" Natasha said coldly.
"No. You're just. . .someone who we don't know what to do with," Hill said stiffly.
"Red Room are sending people out for me. They'll know I'm here within two days. They might even know I'm here already. You have a mole in here. Dunno who, but you do. They'll send the Winter Soldier for me. They're planning an attack on the Canadian prime minister and then while you've got people over there, they'll attack you here to make it look like I'm lying to you and trying to kill you," Natasha said suddenly.
"You seem to know a lot about their plans," Hill said suspiciously.
"Well, duh. I've been with them for twelve years. I know how they act. I've also overheard them talking about things they haven't told me or James, though he could just be pretending to be as clueless as me. I'm not one of their little brain dead, disgustingly devoted followers," Natasha spat. "Honestly, how do you think I got away. Sitting there and scrap booking my way to freedom?"
"You don't strike me as the scrap booking type," Clint butted in.
Natasha glared at him and then turned to Hill. "Does he do this all the time and if so, why have you not fired him?"
"Because he's too good to lose," Hill said. "Although, he could leave out the attitude."
"Move it, Hill. I've got a prisoner to set free," Clint grinned, though the smile seemed a little forced. "C'mon, chop chop."
Hill glared at the two. Natasha scowled back.
"D'you want a signed copy of my word, or something just as stupid?" She asked mockingly. "I never break a promise. Ever. Now, goodbye. Let's go, Clint."
"I thought I was helping you escape, not you leading the way," Clint said.
Natasha walked out of the cell and studied the room. After a while she said, "We can go through the air vents without being seen. I assume you know where they go?"
"Nope," Clint said cheerfully. "But let's find out."
He boosted her up and she moved the grill away then pulled herself up before reaching down to help Clint up. She replaced the grill carefully and then crawled left, where she guessed the exit would be.
After half an hour of crawling, the two peered down through another grill and saw the exit two meters away. They dropped down and were immediately surrounded by SHIELD agents. Natasha smirked.
"You saw this coming, didn't you?" Clint sighed.
"Of course. What organisation doesn't have security cameras in the cell room?" Natasha asked. "Your boss was probably watching."
"I hate you," he muttered.
"Well, what can I say? You were sent to kill me, after all," Natasha said.
The agents pointed guns at Clint an Natasha's head and chest and waited. Not for long, though. Fury strode down the hall, coming to a stop in front of Clint.
"You disappoint me, Barton," Fury said. "You're one of our best agents and yet you make deals with the Black Widow?"
"Told you he was watching," Natasha whispered.
Fury switched his glare to her. "Natalia Romanova, the infamous Black Widow. I must admit, I didn't expect Barton to bring you back injured."
"Are you insulting my gentlemanly qualities or are you complimenting me and insulting Natasha?" Clint asked.
"Natasha?" Fury raised his eyebrow.
"I changed my name. I don't much like being Natalia Romanova. I killed for fun with that name. Also, where's your parrot?" She asked.
Clint snorted and Fury glared.
"I don't have a parrot, nor do I want one," he growled. "And Barton, don't slip the prisoner bombs." He scowled at Natasha. "Give them here."
"Why, certainly," Natasha said, flicking wires around and disabling parts. She dropped them on the ground and smoke burst from it.
When it cleared, she was gone and Clint had gone with her.
Natasha ran faster than she ever had as the gates started closing. She ducked and rolled and stood up on the other side, leaving Clint tied to a SHIELD van. The SHIELD agents swarmed the gates, some climbing over and others pressing the button to open the gates repeatedly.
Fury gave the order that only Level 7 field agents could go after her and that anyone who cut Clint free would regret it. Though Hill might have taped his mouth shut with duct tape and gotten away with it.
It turned out the ten SHIELD agents didn't need to go after her. A man with a metal arm was battling her already, recognisable as the Winter Soldier. SHIELD made a circle around the two, guns at the ready.
"I didn't think that you would ever stoop to this level of disgrace, Natalia," the Winter Soldier hissed, striking her across the face.
"Do you even know your real name? Do you know who your parents are, your best friend, where you came from before Russia? Think about it, Winter, and tell me that you believe everything they told you without hesitation," Natasha said, sweeping his legs out from under him.
"Of course I do," he said. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Do you know how you lost that arm?" Natasha said.
The Winter Soldier paused. "No. They told me it didn't matter and that I would have died had they not found me."
"Your name is James Barnes and you lived in Brooklyn before World War 2. You joined the war on the British side and fought against Hydra alongside Captain America. Did you know any of that, James?" Natasha demanded.
James glared at her. "I knew my name and that was it. I switched sides because I wanted to."
"They brainwashed you!" Natasha yelled. "They brainwashed me and all the other girls in the Red Room. We were goddamn experiments and they never told us! Do you really want to go back knowing that whatever I say, you won't remember the next day?"
James snarled and leaped forward, catching Natasha around the waist as she tried to dodge. She kicked out and flipped over his head, landing behind him softly. She aimed a punch at his head and smiled grimly when he staggered forward. But only for a second. The Winter Soldier was back on his feet and fighting with all his might.
He kicked her abdomen and she retaliated with a trip up that landed him on the ground. Natasha straddled his waist and pulled another knife from the sole of her shoe, pressing it to his throat. James had nothing to lose so he flipped them over, only receiving a slight nick to his throat, just below his Adams apple.
Natasha hit the ground with a thud and jerked her head to the left, her knife impaling the ground where her head had just been. The Winter Soldier pushed the knife against her neck and glared at her.
"You were the best we ever had. Come back to us. Please," he said.
"And get brainwashed again? No thank you," she snapped.
James pressed the knife harder and straddled her tighter, forcing her to stop moving. "Don't be stubborn, Natalia."
"My name is not Natalia," Natasha growled.
"Well then, what is it?" James asked.
"That's for me to know and you to keep wondering," said a new voice.
Clint shoved James off Natasha and pulled her to her feet. Suddenly Natasha tensed and ducked, a bullet riding over her head. She scanned the rooftops and pointed it out to Clint. A sniper was sitting with his gun pointing at Natasha's face.
"All SHIELD agents," a voice boomed. "Leave this place now and you will live. Stay, and I will kill you along with the Black Widow."
"Ivan Petrovich," Natasha said quietly. "He always did have a flair for dramatics." She turned to the SHIELD agents. "Go. I'll handle it."
They hesitated before scattering, save one. Maria Hill. Natasha swore and gestured for her to go. Hill shook her head.
"You seem okay, Romanoff. I don't want you dying just yet," Hill smiled.
They moved into defensive positions and waited. As expected, highly trained assassins poured out from anywhere they could fit. Hill, Clint and Natasha were firing before any of them were properly ready, injuring half and killing quite a few.
Natasha ran out of ammo about a quarter through the fight and neither Hill nor Clint had enough time to give her some. This is what happens when you make powerful enemies, she thought.
She snapped the first man's neck and delivered a powerful kick to a woman's back, breaking her spine and leaving her helpless. Clint gave her his gun and pulled out his bow, shooting three at a time, killing the three men rushing towards them.
Natasha shot rapidly, leaving a trail of dead bodies in her wake. She used up the rest of the ammo in Clint's gun and went back to combat fighting.
Hill dodged and ducked and spun away as bullets zoomed past her. She returned fire with gusto and wasn't hit once. Until the Winter Soldier took aim at her and got her thigh. Hill winced and pressed her hand over her wound, still firing. The Winter Soldier aimed at her once more and the bullet came flying towards her forehead.
A flash of red darted in front of her and jumped up. Natasha caught the bullet in her shoulder and landed back on the ground with a thud. To her credit, Natasha didn't wince or stop fighting; she whirled back into the fray and continued fighting. Three men and four women circled Natasha, guns aimed at her head.
"Tell your friends to stand down or we'll kill you," the tallest woman hissed.
"Never," snarled Natasha.
They fired as one, five bullets hitting her: two in her legs, two in her stomach and one in her uninjured shoulder. Natasha swore in pain and struggled against the hands holding her down. Loud shots rang through the air and three men and two women fell, dead, one landing on top of Natasha.
Natasha pushed the dead man off her and struggled to her feet. One of the woman drew her fist back and punched Natasha in the jaw, sending her flying backwards. Again she staggered to her feet, ducking the woman's punch and kicked her backwards instead. Arrows protruded through the other woman's chest, killing her instantly.
Hill and Clint were lugging dead bodies into a pile and Clint's bow was discarded, lying a few feet away. Natasha frowned, wondering who had killed her attacker. She looked around and froze as she felt a cool metal barrel touch the back of her head.
"My dear Natasha, have you missed me?" Ivan murmured, coming to stand in front of her.
"Not really, no," Natasha replied, glancing at Clint and Hill who still had yet to notice her.
"They won't notice you until your dead, darling," he purred, "So why don't you come join me?"
"Never," Natasha spat.
Clint looked over to her, wondering who she was talking to and stared in shock as Ivan pulled the trigger. BAM! The gun fired and Clint picked up his bow and shot Ivan, straight through his chest, puncturing his lung. Blood poured out of the wound and stained the ground but all Clint could see was Natasha, lying on the ground, a bullet graze on her cheek.
She grinned weakly up at him. "Super speed, remember?"
Hill came over and handcuffed Ivan, pulling him to his feet. "Nice work, Romanoff," she smiled.
"Th'nks," Natasha slurred, dizzy from blood loss.
"Alright, Barton, you take Romanoff back up to SHIELD medical. I'll get Petrovich to prison medical," Hill said, switching back into superior mode.
"'M fine," Natasha mumbled, trying to stand but failing.
"No, you're not, and if you try arguing I will knock you out," Hill threatened. "Let's go, Barton."
Clint pulled Natasha to her feet and winced as the bullet in his back moved.
"You're hurt," Hill accused.
"Well, so are you," he retorted, pointing at her left elbow and her kneecap.
"You got shot in the back and face-planted into a heap of rubble. Don't you point that finger at me," Hill snapped back.
Natasha stumbled towards SHIELD and groaned as her knees buckled and the ground rushed towards her. Hill and Clint looked at each other and sent a silent message saying this isn't over before hurrying over to Natasha. Clint lifted her up and motioned for Hill to get Ivan.
Hill heaved him up and made him walk as he coughed up blood. "Keep moving, Petrovich,' she ordered.
Clint and Hill walked back into SHIELD headquarters and were immediately surrounded by agents. Phil Coulson walked up to Clint and shook his head.
"If you ever get into any more trouble, I will personally see to it that you get blamed for any incident in another country and stay the night in prison," he warned.
"Good to see you too, Phil," Clint beamed.
"Is this the Black Widow?" Coulson asked, looking down at Natasha in Clint's arms.
"Yep. Saved Hill's life," Clint said.
"Which is why she had six bullets in her body?" Coulson asked.
"No, she took one bullet for Hill, she was surrounded by seven people and only dodged two," explained Clint.
"Ah," Coulson said. "Right, where did you get hurt?"
"Hang on, lemme get someone to take her to medical," Clint said. He looked around and gestured for an agent to come over. "What's your name?"
"Agent Daniel Colt," the agent answered. "Level 5."
"Okay. Take Natasha to medical, please," Clint said.
"Yes sir," Colt agreed, taking Natasha from Clint.
Another agent came over and handcuffed her. Natasha kicked out and jumped out of Colt's arms. The SHIELD agents watched her warily, though when she stumbled and winced they let out a sigh of relief. She wouldn't be able to take out them all.
Hill stepped forward but was pushed back by other agents. Agent Colt came up from behind her and put his gun to her head. Natasha stumbled and tried to move towards Clint but was blocked. They made a path for her towards the door that led to the cells and pushed her towards it.
Natasha would never make it there. She had lost to much blood. Yet still she fought and clawed at Colt as he shoved her down the pathway. The agents cheered and laughed like they were poking fun at a hurt animal and not a human being. Something snapped inside Clint and he tried to push through to Natasha.
"Stop it," he yelled. "Stop! She's hurt. Leave her alone!"
Coulson made his way through the crowd next to Melinda May and stepped between Colt and Natasha. May grabbed Natasha around the waist and pulled her closer. Coulson glared at Colt and all the agents who had stopped cheering now that a senior agent had come.
"You should all be ashamed of yourselves," Coulson said quietly. "Cheering and encouraging Colt to treat Romanoff like an animal is despicable behaviour. If-"
"Just what is going on in here?" Hill demanded, coming back from the cells with Fury.
Coulson glared at the agents. "They decided that Romanoff was an-"
"You bastards," Clint snarled, finally pushing his way through. "How dare you? Imagine if that had happened to you and you were bloody bleeding to death surrounded by your enemies! Out of all the agencies, I thought this one was pretty good at how it treated its agents, but then you lot do this and you just ruin it!"
Coulson laid a hand on Clint's shoulder and steered him away to medical. Fury and Hill watched him leave before turning on the agents.
"Is this true?" Fury asked.
No one answered.
"Colt, I'm talking to you," Fury said angrily. "Just because you never killed people for fun, killed people because you had nothing to better to do, killed so many people that you have so much red in your ledger that you quit and are willing to die for something good, just to wipe some of it out, does not mean that you get to bully someone who has. You are a disgrace to SHIELD and everyone who supported you is too. All of you, I want you to report to me in groups of fifteen each day. Never let me catch you doing this again."
He stormed out of the room and slammed the door. Hill looked at them sadly.
"I hope you're happy," she said, before she turned and left as well.
Two days later Natasha escaped from medical and found herself surrounded by the SHIELD agents who had mocked her. They crowded around her and pressed a bag of ammo into her hands shouting, "Sorry, sorry, sorry."
Natasha stared at them in surprise before dropping the bag and hurrying back into the hospital. The doctors and Fury were waiting with there for her.
"What is going on?" Natasha demanded.
"They're saying sorry for treating you like a circus animal," Fury said.
"Oh, what a brilliant way to describe what happened," Clint said, annoyance showing.
Natasha looked over to him and smirked as she realised he was forbidden from leaving medical and she wasn't.
"So your way of saying sorry is to crowd me with people and give me bullets?" Natasha asked.
"Well, yes. What's your way?" Hill asked.
"In Red Room, we'd give the person a bit of our food, being an assassin I'd kill them quickly and being a nobody I'd send the person a gun," Natasha said.
There was silence. Nobody knew quite what to say.
"Well," Clint said. "That's new."
"Not really. Now, do you have a training room in this place?" She asked.
"Oh no, Romanoff, you're not going anywhere near the training room," Hill said in a voice that held such authority that Natasha listened.
"I've got a job offer for you, Romanoff," Fury said, his eye glinting.
Natasha eyed him suspiciously. "If you're about to ask me to join SHIELD it's a no, if it's to stop killing and start a cooking show it's a no and if you're gonna ask me to leave SHIELD alone it's still a no."
"Where on Earth did that cooking one come from?" Fury asked.
"It's been asked before," Natasha said, "and what's your job offer?"
"I want you to join SHIELD," Fury said.
Natasha stared at him, her mouth parted slightly in shock. "Okay, what happened to listening to people? Didn't I just say no to joining SHIELD?"
"Why not?" Fury gave her a hard look.
"It's still killing, just for a different reason. I'd rather go back to Russia and track down my past. At least then I'll be killing by my own terms," she said flatly.
"You owe Clint a debt, you know, for him saving your life. You can repay it by saving his life on missions if you join SHIELD," Fury said, knowing that she agree.
Natasha glared at him. "Fine. I agree. But I'm not making it easy for you."
She crawled into the air vents and disappeared.
"I wouldn't expect anything less," Fury said, with a slight smile on his face.