Do You See What I See?

An Untimely Meeting

        Beep. Beep. Beep. The alarm clock that rested on the bedside table sounded at the same time as usual, 5 am. Natasha reached over and pressed the snooze button. It was Saturday so she allowed herself a few more hours of sleep before she draged herself out of bed, and everything was the same boring shade of grey.

        After getting dressed and pouring herself  a cup of coffee, she grabbed her jacket and walked out the door. She smiled kindly at the old woman walking into the apartment building, and even held the door open for her. Even though her smile offered friendship, the knife in her waistband said differently. Saturday wasn't usually a busy day for her, but sometimes she just has to get the job done that day. 

        Her target today was drug dealer that had a lot of information on the U.S. government, aed this information couldn't get out to the public. The man's name was Jimmy Rotney, or more commonly known on the streets as Ratface Jim. He looked about ashe sounded. This man was 5'7 of pure butt uglyness. He was skinny and ill looking, his dark hair was thinning at the top, and this man must have never heard of a bath because he smelled like a sewer. His hiding place was jist where she thought it would be, an old factory near the edge of downtown. Natasha was staying in the town of Portland, Oregon. She stopped and grabbed a lunch near the factory and waited until she saw a run-down 1969 Camaro pull down the winding road leading to the factory doors.

        It's a shame, she thought while trailing the car on foot, that car is a classic beauty. 

        When she reached the factory, she could hear faint talking coming from within. She looked up at the faded painting on the brick wall, it read "Portlan Garment Factory" in what was once a blackish color. She looked through a cracked window and observed the conversaion, which was more of an arguement. After she got bored of that she decided it was time to take her target out. She was light on her feet as she silently slipped inside. The first guard was eay to take out, and by then Ratfaced Jim would have heard her and drawn his gun. She rolled to the right the instant she got in the door because there were bullets whizzing past her before she could even blink. 

        The gun was easy to wrestle from Jimmy, but what she didn't expect was that there were more men there than she had counted. It was one against 24, she could maybe take out 16 before she would get shot. and she did just that. Then, as if someone heard her prayers for help, an arrow flew past her and into the neck of a guy on her right. The man dropped down to the ground as a pool of dark liquid started to form. The other men were terminated and disposed of within the hour, all the while Natasha didn't get a glance at her saviour's face. He had a deep grey hoodie pulled low over his face, making sure he couldn't be seen.

        "Do I get to know who you are, or do I have to play twenty questions with you?" Natasha said, breaking the silence. The man, who must've been around the same age as her, sighed and pulled his hood off. His face seemed familiar to her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on where she knew him from.

        "My name is Clint Barton." he said with a deep voice. She took a mintue to look him over. He was about 5'10, which was seven inches taller than her. He had pale grey eyes that were like most people's. His hair was short and had a deeper grey color to it than hers.

        "You can call me Natasha. " She finally stated and held out her hand for him to shake, which he did. 

        And in the fraction of a second when their hands first touched, everything began to change. Things neither Natasha nor Clint had ever seen before, colors. So many of them at once that they bothed gasped in amazement. Now she was able to see  his beautiful pale green eyes and the tight purple shirt that could be seen from where he left his jacket unzipped,and his short , light brown hair that was trimmed short.  She also just then realized what her hair color was. Looking at a piece of curly hair that had fallen in front of her face, she was able to see that her hair was a bright cherry red. They both stepped back and admired each other. They knew what this meant, though neither of them wanted to say it first. This was the beggining of a great relationship.