The New York Assignment

Six

Natasha didn't sleep that night. She spent it hacking police files, listening to scanners, and talking to Steve. The next morning she took a shower and dressed in a professional-looking button-up shirt and trousers. Her destination was only about twelve blocks away, so she decided to walk.

The look in Clint's eyes haunted her. She'd really done it this time. Steve was right: she should have told him the truth. Coulson hadn't called her to ask where Clint was, so she guessed that SHIELD didn't know he'd disappeared yet. But she didn't have much time.

The tall, futuristic-looking building loomed above her. She noticed the enormous 'A' was not only the last remaining letter on the structure, but it had been fixed up and altered intentionally.

"Mr. Stark is expecting you, Agent Romanoff," the British accent of the AI announced. Natasha sighed, swallowed her pride, and walked through the door. It locked behind her.

"Where is he, Jarvis?" Natasha asked tiredly.

"Step into the elevator. I'll take you to him."

Natasha obeyed reluctantly, knowing this was a terrible idea. The elevator shot up several floors before stopping. The doors opened to reveal a massive lab with parts of machines laying around in no discernible order. She stepped out and looked around.

A head popped up behind a table. Black smudges marked his skin, and it looked like he hadn't slept in days. "Natasha," he greeted. "To what do I owe this immense pleasure?" He stood and wiped his hands on a dirty rag.

"I need a favor, Stark," she answered.

"Well, I figured that. You're not really one for social calls. What's so screwed up you can't go to your SHIELD buddies for?" He smirked.

She sighed. She pulled a file from her bag and handed it to him, thankful she'd made another copy. Tony took it and glanced through the contents.

"So your boyfriend's in trouble," he said. "Let me guess: SHIELD wants him dead now?"

"Yes." She didn't have time to argue the term "boyfriend".

"So, what? You me to hide him?"

"No. I want your help finding him."

He shrugged. "Shouldn't be a problem. Jarvis, begin a search for Agent Barton. Care to take a load off, Natasha?"

"I can't stay long. Just until you have Clint's location."

"Should have it up in a few." He turned to a work bench and started fiddling with broken pieces of machinery.

"You look horrible." The words were out before Natasha had really thought about them.

Tony merely smirked. "You're not lookin' so hot yourself. Are those grey hairs I see?"

Natasha rolled her eyes. "You want to explain the whole Avengers theme of the Tower?"

"Nope."

"When were you going to reveal your plan to keep the team together?"

Tony stopped. "Who said I was keeping the team together?"

"The schematics on your wall." She pointed to a drawing of the exterior of the building with lines connecting each of the Avengers' names to a different floor. "When were you planning on telling SHIELD?"
"When were you planning on telling your boyfriend you were told to drop him?" Tony countered.

Natasha rolled her eyes again. "Fine, Stark. Keep your secrets."

"Sir, location found," Jarvis mercifully interrupted.

Tony turned to the computer screen hooked to a moving arm suspended from the ceiling. "Got him."

Natasha walked closer and looked at the screen. A red dot hovered over a dilapidated building in New Jersey. She nodded. "If he changes locations, tell me." She collected the files and walked back to the elevator. "And I know you scanned those papers. If you share them with anyone, Stark, you're a dead man."

"You're welcome." He smirked. "See you around, Red." 

She left as quickly as she could and ran back home. She grabbed one pistol and a taser. After a moment of hesitation, she grabbed a sniper rifle. Lightning fast, Natasha changed into a spare catsuit and jumped in her car. She punched in the location of the building in Jersey and ran a quick code to keep SHIELD from finding out.

As she raced through the New York streets, a smirk found its way onto her lips. It had been a long time since she'd felt this much like the Black Widow. Off the grid, behind backs, and in the shadows. This was what she was born for.

_______________________________________________________

Clint ran a hand through his messy hair. This was insane! He was a wanted man, hunted by SHIELD, and he'd just left the only person who might help him.

He shook his head. No. She'd lied to him. She'd used him. He couldn't trust her - not anymore.

He swung his hand, backhanding the man in front of him. Clint gripped his shirt and slammed him against the wall. "You know something you're not telling me," he growled.

"I don't know about the murders!" the man shouted, desperate.

Clint threw him to the floor and pulled out an arrow. The tip was through the man's hand before he had time to blink. He screamed in pain and tried to move his hand. The arrow pinned it to the floor.

"You wanna think a little harder?" Clint asked with a dark smirk.

Tears streamed down his face. "I... I just saw... the bodies! Please! I didn't see the killer! I swear!"

Clint watched him for a moment, and reality sank in. This guy didn't know anything. He yanked the arrow from the floor and drove his first against the witness' temple. He crumpled. Clint stood up, put the arrow back his quiver, and left the building.

Clint swung a leg over the stolen motorcycle, and sped off, leaving the man behind. He thought briefly of Natasha; the color of her hair, the beauty of her smile, the warmth of her skin. He pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind. That was over now. It might be a long time before he saw her again, and he prayed he never did.

He was going to prove that he didn't kill those people. And he didn't care how he did it.