Friend or Foe or?

Natasha Romanoff can always tell friend from foe. Instinctively. Whether it was by the subjects amicable behaviour or one's persona, she could conclude sufficiently. She was always precise in her examinations. All except one certain case. A hopeless one if you were to ask her. A certain narcissistic genius always seemed to be too quick for her to analyse properly. Facial expressions contorting from witty to charming to undecipherable, all in the span of seconds. Though he was plagued with a cloud of baggage. It was exasperating to say the least. But she never admitted to the growing affinity for him and his mechanisms. She denied it, disregarded it and tossed it right in the bin, rather Tony's face. After all, denial isn't just a river in Egypt.