[AN: The final chapter! Sorry it took so long to publish. My computer has been in storage for over a week and I didn't get a chance to publish this before that. Hope you enjoy –Selena]

{{Disclaimer: Nope I don't own Avengers.}}

Chapter 4

Natalia looked troubled even from such a distance. Clint squinted down his arrow, the bow not near full draw but held taunt and a straight shaft notched at his fingers. Her posture, the tilt of her head, something small and almost imperceptible was different about Natalia from how she stood on the Novosibrisk platform two days before. Up close Clint would have over looked it, never noticed the small change but he had always seen better at a distance. From high up the whole picture was much clearer. Things got messy in close quarters and lines blurred together. The insides of small dingy hotel rooms were blurry. Empty Moscow storage yards from a quarter mile 500 feet were clear.

Natalia had Baranski tied up and at her side, the barrel of a gun pointed against his ribs. She faced the away from the rising ruins of an abandoned factory and stood sidelong to the railroad overpass where he'd made his nest. From where Clint was he could watch the approach on the road and the Black Widow easily as he had for the past half hour. Despite the biting cold though she seemed unbothered by the wait while the usually patient archer was fighting off shivers. Hawkeye watched as Baranski said something to Natalia and she quieted him.

It was a few more minutes before headlights came round the corner and two dark cars pulled up in front of Natalia and her prisoner.

Clint couldn't hear what they said but he could make out the tone, the congratulations of the man who seemed to be in charge and the contrasting tension in his guards and right hand man. Natalia seemed to pick up on it and her posture shifted even more. Hawkeye hesitated to pull his bow to full draw.

The plan was to take out as many guards as he could before they got back into their cars then blow up the road and pick off the rest of them before taking Baranski and anyone remaining back to America. If his plan worked it would far overshadow his past failure in Novosibrisk. It might finally quell the rumors that he wasn't meant for the job, that the John Doe ex-con pulled out of California State Prison was just Colson's humanity getting away from him. Clint flexed his fingers around the bow. This had to work.

But there was one small flaw in his plan, a small speck so small it could have been nothing except… Clint cursed under his breath and un-notched his arrow, reaching back to pull a new one, this one marked by three raised bands around the notch. To a watching eye the motion was one smooth continuous stream and the arrow never seemed to touch the bow before it was loosed and flying. It hit the ground just behind Natalia with a hiss and thwack that spread a fine mist of water into the air and turned all heads to the spot. Though nothing was hit the purpose was clear as a red line was illuminated in the mist cloud, ending on Natalia's chest.

"No!" Baranski yelled suddenly as he lunged over, unbalanced by his bonds, and a second before the crack of a sniper rifle filled the air.

"Wha…?" Clint's eyes widened as he watched the defecting Russian spy fall to the ground in front of Natalia with a red haze hanging before him.

Then everything went to hell. Natalia dove for a low cement wall, her weapon coming up against her employers who returned fire at her. Unknowingly they were caught between the crossfire of Natalia's rapid, low angled shots, and Clint's rain of deadly arrow. His first shot was high and three men crumpled under sharp tipped shafts before the first even landed. It spread a cloud as well, darker and obscuring; it gave Natalia the cover she needed to make a break for the fence line under the railroad overpass.

Clint didn't think twice about joining her, clipping his repelling wire to the rails and dropping. The sniper would be on the move so he didn't worry about being shot, there was no angle from that point to the railroad or he'd have taken out the killer himself.

Natalia had scaled the fence by the time he landed and was reloading her clips deftly.

"This way," Hawkeye yelled as he loaded his bow and that was all the conversation before they were under fire from the remaining Russians. With as much return as they could manage, the two loan agents made a break for cover across the rocky field that separated the abandoned yard from a side road where Clint had parked his car. Wordlessly he unlocked it and, not pausing to put on the seatbelts, sped into the Russian night.

They were both panting hard as the car made its way along the highway.

"Some friends," Hawkeye noted sarcastically between gasps of air.

"They're usually not so bad," She whispered, chest still heaving and looking paler than when he'd last seen her.

"You going to puke?" He asked her, it was a logical reaction. He'd wrenched on the floor the first time a man had been killed next to him

She hesitated before answering, then, setting her face, she shook her head.

"Honorable men…" she said finally.

"What?" Clint glanced away from the road to see what she meant but her expression didn't tell him anything.

"Honorable men," She repeated then explained, "He said that he wouldn't get one of those deaths… like honorable men… he… he was wrong…" Clint felt a smile pulling at his face.

"You actually listened to him?" he asked in amazement and his companion fell silent. They were breathing normally and Clint was driving the speed limit when she spoke again.

"Why didn't you let them kill me? Wouldn't it be easier to take Baranski or one of the others without me in the way?" She asked and he could feel her piercing green eyes on him so he composed his face though he knew she'd see it and he shrugged.

"He said they'd steal our hearts eventually… you've still got one," He glanced away from the road to level her with his blue eyes in which she could see his understanding. Just like Baranski he could see that she'd spared his life but also that she had no concrete reason for doing so. But he was the same; in his look she could see that he had no more reason to save her than she had to spare him.

"How do you know I won't just kill you?" She asked.

"I don't," He replied, eyes on the road. "But I don't want to be America's weapon and I think you're fed up with being the Russian's hand. So what do you say Natalia Romanova, how would you like to work with me instead?"

"Work for who?"

"Does it matter?" He asked.

"I guess not," She replied, her thoughts on Baranski.

"Huf," Clint laughed, "my handler's not going to be happy; you're not the spy he expected."

"Good," she said and he had to turn because he wanted to see the smile in her voice on her face. It took his breath away for a moment. To think that the face holding that beautiful smile had been twisted in a mockery of emotion two days before. She was gorgeous like this, dirt covered and emotional, cutting ties and making new ones.

"I don't know your name," she noted and he realized he was staring.

"Clint Barton," he introduced himself, looking back at the road.

"You can call me Natasha," She replied, "I think it suits me better." And it did.

FIN

[AN: Sorry for the shortness. Thanks for reading and please review. –Selena]