The Story of a Bird and Spider || Clintasha

6

"If there was another way out of this country, I would take it. Unfortunately, what I'm going to do will have to work.

"The fact that HYDRA agents have been sent to kill me is concerning, but I can't let that affect my choice. Right now, my priority is the Black Widow. She has to get out of here more, because there is going to be a stronger hatred towards her.

"I'll figure something out once I know she's safe."

"There are a limited amount of people that I can trust with my life. People who will always get me out of a situation that risks their own lives, to save a man with no innocence left in his hands; just a couple of guns and some arrows.

"There are few people who vow never to leave me. Who trust me with every ounce of their being, but refuse to leave me behind. Fury is one of those people, though he accepts that I'm independent. Bobbi was one of those people, until she broke the promise she made years ago. And, of course, there's Maria and Coulson.

"Unfortunately, Natasha is not one of these few people."

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12. Hungary: Budapest, Sunday, August 16, 12:20

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"This is... nice. I'm not used to... being normal at a cafe. Drinking... coffee."

His eyebrows raise, taking a sip of his black coffee, preferring the more bitter taste over sweet. "What's wrong with coffee?"

She cracks a smile, her tastes the opposite of Clint's. "Nothing. It's just an event that hasn't happened in a while fore me. Not like this. This is peaceful."

"Yeah, well, this is your lunch... The plane takes off in two hours, and we gotta get going soon."

"Lunch? It's early for lunch." Once more, her accent pokes out at the less familiar American word in her mind. When she goes to the US, she usually doesn't have time for lunch. "'Lunch' is around 2." He grins into his mug as a response, then takes another sip.

"Can I ask you a question? Don't think I'm dull."

"Shoot," he replies, looking up at her with his full attention.

He is a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent! Why does he make it so hard to hate him? she thinks to herself. She feels light-headed and short of breath, but she's made her mind up. She's counted the money he has-- there isn't enough for the both of them to go to America, and she told him earlier today there's no way she can stay here in Russia. No money, no home, nothing.

She knows he plans on leaving her. Conveniently 'losing' her at the airport. Her heartbeat goes into overtime, her palms sweaty. She has to do what she's best at. She's got to make sure she gets to America.

I have to kill him, before he kills me.

"Nat?"

Her head snaps up, and she realizes she'd drifted into dream-land and started staring into her coffee cup, stirring the light, warm liquid around and around with her spoon. She doesn't remember her question, so she improvises. No, she lies, because she lies to her enemies. She improvises with people she... trusts. People who don't plan on killing her.

"What was that thing we were in, before we got into that plane?"

"That was a hellicarrier. Just a prototype-- just wait some time. It'll get even bigger, and more safe, too. They're going to add features to it, like reflective panels so people can't see the ship from the ground, at least. The jet is called a 'Quinjet'. Stark has been helping with that a lot, making more advanced models. He's an inventor, and--"