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Meanwhile, at Avengers headquarters. ✾━━━━━━━━✾━━━━━━━━✾
The entire team was still in the dark as to who the mysterious attacker had been who had beaten Steve to hospital.
Steve was still alive only because the woman had apparently come as a surprise to both parties, and because Yelena had hit her with her nerve agent-soaked ammunition.
Besides the huge hematoma spreading in all colors on his face, his upper lip had also burst open and a deep cut, which needed stitches, adorned his left eyebrow.
"It looks to me like this was personal," Clint muttered as he took a bite of the tuna pizza.
"But who was the woman? She kicked him to the side so I could escape, and she knew who I was. The voice sounded familiar, but I don't know who to attribute it to," Sam said as he dropped into the chair between Yelena and Steve.
The entire team had gathered in the meeting room to watch surveillance video from the surrounding cameras together, eating pizza and hopefully coming up with the solution to the mystery.
"I have no idea who that could have been. I've only been out of the ice for two years and I haven't really messed with anyone - at least not that I know of," Steve gave his thoughts on the attack.
"I don't care who did it or what's behind it - we're going to find them!"
Clint turned once to the right in his swivel chair "And then what? Kill them? Yelena, that's not how this is handled."
With a raised eyebrow, he stared admonishingly at the blonde, whereupon she merely rolled her eyes over and nearly drowned her slice of pizza in hot sauce.
Back in Russia ✾━━━━━━━━✾━━━━━━━━✾
To relieve her boredom and her seemingly endless time, Daria had sat down at the desk in the room and started trying out the watercolors.
By now she had been sitting there for several hours like a ball and one brush stroke followed another.
With black charcoal pencils and red watercolor she was about to draw a self-portrait - after all, she lacked references which she could use.
She herself had not drawn for years, but as a child it had been one of her favorite activities, which she pursued in bad weather.
In her children's room, which her mother had lovingly designed with her according to her wishes, she had sat for hours in front of a sheet of paper and drawn - of course much worse than she could draw now, she had still been a child then.
Also in the time when she had been trained as a Black Widow in the RedRoom, she had had the opportunity to pursue her hobby.
It was seen with pleasure when a girl tried to perfect a hobby of her own free will.
