assassin

crosshairs

natasha romanoff
chapter one: crosshairs

I always hate finding myself in situations like these. Granted, it is the job I signed up for.

My hands were in the air, weapons completely out of reach as I scan the situation. One side I have dozens of hydra agents with automatic weapons and a desire to kill, on the other I have the avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. with their guns pointed, also at me. Stuck in the crosshairs just like always.

"Nobody moves a muscle or we fire, I repeat do not move." One of the hydra agents shouts, his grenade launcher pointed at me.

"Nat!" Cap shouts, desperation and confusion controlling his features. I shake my head slightly, we can't do anything.

"Romanoff comes with us, or we open fire on this entire block: citizens or no!" Another exclamation from my left. I nod and slowly make my way over, praying to whatever god is out there that one of my team members doesn't do something stupid.

"Natasha!" Cap lunges forward, I hear the cock of guns being loaded and prepared for shooting.

Yup, stupid.

From above me I hear a whir of metallic noises against the wind, then a sudden thud behind me and an arm wrapped around my waist. It would almost have been romantic if it weren't for the cold barrel of the gun against my temple.

Cap tries to lunge again as he sees who's containing me, but my voice stops him cold.

"Rogers, don't be stupid!" I shake my head vigorously, but there's desperation on his face. All he wants is to save me like the hero he is, but sometimes there's nothing you can punch to fix a situation.

As my captor starts to slowly pull me towards the hydra shooters, I feel the stubble of a short beard and the itching of longer locks rubbing against the back of my neck. It shouldn't have surprised me, the Winter Soldier was under the orders of hydra after all. But James Buchanan Barnes used to answer to no man but himself. And no woman but me.

My concerns were no longer about the outcome of this gridlock. I was like closer to Bucky than I had been in a while and I had to stop him. To save him.

"Bucky." I whisper, struggling slightly against his hold. He shakes his head, recognizing the word on my tongue but being unable to process it. "James. Come on it's me. You know me." His organic arm tightened around my waist in a familiar way, after all we'd been in this position countless times. If only I could get that damn gun from his hand.

Without another thought I whipped my leg out and spun, sweeping Bucky's feet out from under him as he drops the gun in the process. I heard a faint "Fire!" from my left, and the bullets started raining around us. I crouched in order to avoid the bullets as Bucky regained his stature. I placed a swift kick to his solid abdomen that removed him from the line of fire, then quickly ran to my opponent.

He tried to grab my arms and throw me, but the Red Room trained me for not only hand-to-hand combat but also dance. I firmly held onto the vertex of his hold and kicked my legs out in the style of a ballerina. Once the spinning stopped with my arms still holding his, I was able to slide underneath his legs and hook his ankle with my knee. This knocked Bucky off his feet for the second time and stunned him long enough for me to be able to pin his body down with my own. I straddled his abdomen and held his arms to his side with the pressure of my knees on his forearms, just painful enough that he wouldn't try pulling them away. 

"Bucky, listen to me." I stared into his sharp blue eyes as he wriggled his head in an attempt to struggle, but I had mastered this move long ago. There wasn't a chance in hell that he could get out of it. "You know who I am. You and me, remember? We met in the Red Room when we were both younger." He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, as if experiencing a headache. "You were my subject that I was to train on with the skills I had acquired, but then it went deeper than that. It changed both of us, starting from that first night."

flashback years into the past
location: red room training facility

James slammed me against the wall of my room, his hands resting on my hips. I throw my arms around his neck as our lips lock ferociously onto each others. I entangle my hands in his soft hair and pull my body even closer than before.

The goal of our exercise was to learn as much as we can about our informant, seduce him or her, and retrieve the secret information (the flashdrive) through whatever means necessary. I was well on my way to completing my mission, and it didn't hurt that my informant was visually pleasing.

James Buchanan Barnes, a Sergeant in the US military turned Soviet weapon, was a part of the facility's training, which he was aware of. Exactly what activities he was to be used in he was unaware. Thus, when I approached him in the gym after my own perspiration-inducing drills in tight pants and a sports bra, it wasn't difficult to get him to fall into the web of the widow.

He lifted me off of the ground, causing me to gasp in surprise. A noise that seemed to encourage him all the more further. I wrapped my legs around his toned abs, my hands still tangled in his hair. He lays me onto the bed and places himself on top of me. He rocks back onto his knees just long enough to tear off his shirt and chuck it across my room. My toes trace patterns along the back pockets of his jeans, where they feel a small, rectangular bulge the size of my mission objective.

Slowly and discreetly, I edge the drive out of his pocket and into the grasp of my feet. As he's undoing his belt buckle, I manage to place the flash drive underneath my mattress. My objective was complete, which means I could stop whatever other business was about to play out. However, as I stared into the beautiful blue eyes of Bucky Barnes, I went against my better judgement.

Missions are the only importance. Delay a mission or compromise it in anyway, and you will be punished. Those were the words that Madame uttered to us before assigning our missions. I could choose to follow her orders, or allow myself a night of fun with the handsome fella in front of me.

And yeah, you can imagine how that went. All I can say is: the feeling of waking up with his arms wrapped around me and my head on his chest was worth all of the punishment that I had to receive later that day

end flashback

"James." I cry out, my green eyes locked onto his. He blinks a few times before his eyes widen in realization. The struggling ceases as he begins to remember the past we share.

"Natalia?" Bucky inquires with a Russian accent. The use of my real name stuns me for a second, but in the middle of a battlefield I really can't focus on things as trivial as name choice.

"Finally," I exhale with relief, "Let's get you out of here."

———

hope u enjoyed the first chapter
of my buckynat / winterwidow
fanfic, i know i did

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