New York, USA

Spring 2015

Everyone was in complete agreement. There was no time to waste.

Nadine was no different. Her relief at hearing her daughter was okay had given way to a renewed determination to get her back. Immediately she had retreated to the workroom where she had been working with Barton to retrieve what things of hers she'd left down there before heading for the gear room where she'd left the rest.

But as she rounded the last corner before her destination, she caught sight of Barton somewhat reluctantly gesturing for the Maximoff Twins to follow him back toward the same room she was heading for. On impulse, she was zeroing in on the siblings, her mind locked on something she needed to do before she could allow herself to focus on the mission. She pointedly ignored the concerned frown that appeared on the Hawkeye's face as she passed his corner of the room, merely meeting his eye with an expression that clearly said not to interfere.

Walking soundlessly had long ago become second nature to Nadine, so it was child's play to approach the Maximoff brother without his notice.

Unnoticed, at least, until her hand clamped down on his shoulder, spinning him to face her and shoving him off-balance to slam back against the cabinet behind him.

Immediately he jerked defensively, only to freeze when he saw who it was, the anger flashing in his eyes quickly giving way to wary apprehension. Off to the side his sister started at the noise, jerking to face the threat with her hands already rising. But Nadine's gun was already in her hand again and fixed on the sister. Wisely, Wanda Maximoff froze, watching the blonde assassin where she had pinned her brother with wary anxiety.

Nadine just stared at Pietro Maximoff, her face carefully blank as her Ghost persona simmered just below the surface. She didn't even bother to hide that she was studying him closely. As he stared right back, there was no denying that he was virtually an open book.

The boy—and yes, she still considered him a boy; the Twins were just barely two years older than her own daughter, with a lot of maturing still before both of them—was brash, reckless and undoubtedly brave. He was defiantly meeting her hard scrutiny head on where many had been too intimidated to do so in the past, valiantly attempting to hide the fear her sudden appearance or her cool, impassive focus on him had sparked. But he couldn't quite hide it from her. She could see it like a shadow behind his blue-green eyes. She knew very well the effect she could have on a person when she allowed this side of herself to emerge. Grown men had quailed beneath her scrutiny, unnerved by her impassive stare as she studied them. She'd been trained to read and interpret even the smallest flashes of emotion, the merest twitches that could betray damning truths, honing and cultivating the skill over her years as the Ghost. She knew it was intimidating when she fell back on those skills, especially when she wore the hard, emotionless mask her training had taught her to hide her true self behind. And she was not afraid to use that knowledge to her advantage.

But, no matter that part of her wanted to ignore it, there was no mistaking the remorse or the conviction written on this boy's face as he boldly met her eye. Her eyes narrowed, her hand sliding pointedly from its harsh grip on his shoulder to the base of his throat, her fingertips ghosting over his pulse point.

"I am going to give you one chance," she finally said softly, not allowing her intent scrutiny to ease in the slightest, "and one alone to explain why you took my daughter from that base." Nadine felt his pulse begin to pick up as alarm flickered to life in his eyes. A grim satisfaction at the observation nearly caused her to grin. "So take a moment, and choose your words carefully." She leaned in as a brash exclamation nearly burst out of him, the pressure of her fingers on his throat increasing just enough that she knew he'd feel it. His teeth audibly clicked shut at the implied threat. "If I'm not satisfied with what you have to say..." she increased the pressure against his windpipe by another fraction, making her point clear with the soft click that echoed through the silent room as the safety on her Glock was flicked off. Pietro's eyes darted to the gun trained on his sister. A defiant glint appeared in his eyes, but he wasn't stupid. Nadine knew he could read in her eyes just how deadly serious she was. She was not bluffing, and he knew it. She nearly smirked, but settled for merely narrowing her eyes slightly in admonition instead; a more than adequate response.

"Don't count on your speed to save you, Maximoff," she warned, her tone hardening as she saw his eyes begin to glitter with calculation. She felt him swallow convulsively, his eyes darting down to her hand where it rested against his throat and over to his twin. "Your quicksilver reactions wouldn't be enough if I decide to kill you. And even if you can run faster than a bullet, are you willing to risk your sister's life on the slim chance you could slip away from me?" His jaw clenched, his eyes flashing briefly in challenge. She did grudgingly have to admire his spirit. "Now," she continued, easing the slight pressure on his throat, satisfied that her point had been made, "why did you take Nina?" He eyed her back for a long moment, his thoughts visibly racing behind his eyes.

"Because we didn't protect her from Strucker," he finally said softly, his bravado faltering for a split-second. Nadine froze, just barely able to keep her impassive mask in place. Her hand nevertheless tensed across his throat. She managed to keep it from tightening impulsively, but he noticed the reaction, misinterpreting it as skepticism. A muscle in his jaw twitched, his chin lifting minutely as his features hardened, regret and guilt and anger flickering in his eyes. Nadine's gaze didn't falter as she studied him, watching for even the slightest hint of insincerity or omission.

But then something in his eyes shifted, the remorse and regret becoming more pronounced along with the conviction she'd noted before. She wasn't even sure if he realized it had happened. "We weren't about to let it happen again," he admitted, each word sounding nearly defensive. "We couldn't abandon her...we couldn't leave her alone," he bit out. Nadine nearly started at the deep-seated emotion tied to the declaration, the latent vulnerability behind it. Abruptly she remembered what she'd read about what he and his sister had lost. That as young children they'd had their parents ripped from their lives before being left alone in a harsh world to fend for themselves, relying solely on one another. Something deep in her chest began to ease at his sincere vehemence.

He meant every word.

Slowly she removed her hand from his throat. With another click and a soft rasp, her Glock slid back into its holster on her hip. She nearly smirked at the relief and disbelief that flashed across his face. Not taking her eyes from his, she reached past him to the locker she'd been storing her own gear in, a flicker of amusement flashing through her at the way his eyes darted warily down to her rifle even as she draped her pale jacket over her arm. She nodded toward a locker on the other side of him. "Gear up." There was no missing the way he immediately relaxed the instant she turned, freeing him from her scrutiny.

"She likes us." She paused, turning back to the speedster. A bold, impish gleam had returned to his eyes. "Nina does. Just thought you might want to know." At the way her eyes narrowed, his grin faltered, and she saw him swallow nervously again.

"Don't push it, Pietro Maximoff," she countered dryly. "Remember that your Enhancements would only make killing the two of you slightly more interesting than my average targets." Satisfaction hummed through her as he paled. And with that, she turned and left him and his twin to sift through the gear in the room for items that would suit them.

She finally did grin as she heard a relieved breath gusting out of the boy behind her as she walked away.

As she turned, she caught sight of the Maximoff sister staring at her, her eyes flashing scarlet with silent warning. Nadine simply stared impassively back. She knew very well that confronting them had been reckless even as it was a calculated risk, but she needed to get her measure of them. She was begrudgingly pleased with what she'd seen; she had wanted not to, part of her even hoping a measure of...vengeance would be required. But these two had genuinely believed they had been helping Nina. So as angry as Nadine still was with them for taking Nina in the first place, she could also grudgingly respect that they had been so intent on protecting her daughter without even knowing her.

Yet, despite the warning in the sister's eyes, she could see there was a measure of understanding there, just as grudging as Nadine's. The sister knew they had made a mistake in taking Nina with them, and believed that Nadine had every right to be angry with them. Didn't mean that either of them were happy that she'd threatened the other, though. But Nadine could live with two peeved teenagers. She honestly didn't care if they were upset with her.

It was getting past their former robot ally to get her daughter back that she was concerned about now.

"Remind me never to get on your bad side," Barton murmured from where he stood in front of his arsenal cabinet, stocking up and prepping for the mission—he was grabbing up an awful lot of what looked to Nadine like explosive and electrified arrow attachments, she noticed. A soft, huffing sound of amusement escaped her at his comment. Of course he wouldn't have been able to help hearing.

He nodded over to the bench behind him, silently inviting her to take a seat. Hesitating for only a moment, she complied, holding her rifle loosely between her knees with the butt resting on the floor. Out of the corner of her eye she caught the archer watching her warily.

"Would you really have done it?" There was no mistaking what he meant. She glanced up to him, her expression once again impassive. She didn't have to say a word. If he hadn't had the level of control he did, she would've sworn Barton would've swallowed nervously. As it was, he unconsciously cleared his throat as he turned, propping a leg up to clip one last cartridge for his bow to the calf of his boot. "Okay then. That answers that," he said under his breath, settling onto the bench next to her. She nearly grinned at the reaction.

But then she sighed, her amusement fading as her thoughts turned back to the Twins not far away and her daughter in Sokovia. Next to her, a worn, folded piece of paper had appeared in her companion's hands.

"I had to know, Barton," she said softly, absently adjusting her fingerless gloves. "And if they were a threat to her? If they'd hurt her...or if they hadn't cared about the danger they put her in..." Next to her Barton was staring fondly down at the piece of paper, revealing it to be a well-loved photograph as he unfolded it; his family, she recognized. After a moment, Hawkeye glanced to her again before laying a hand on her shoulder.

"I know, Ryker. I get it." A wry glint appeared in his eye as she peered over at him. "Of everyone here? I'm the last one you need to explain it to. If it had been either of my kids? I'd have done the same. I can get what you're going through, I think."

"And I think you're right," she agreed softly, reaching up to lay her own hand on his shoulder in silent thanks for the gesture of support. Nodding, the archer stood, carefully tucking the photo away with an efficient motion.

He held out a hand that Nadine took, the gesture far more symbolic than genuinely necessary for her to get to her feet. Without another word, the archer and the assassin were making their way up to the Quinjet. Nadine paused only to spare the Twins a final look before she left the gear room; the brother was searching through the cabinets while the sister stared, lost in thought, up at Thor and his Vision out on the Landing Pad.

As the archer and the assassin reached the level that opened out to where the Quinjet was berthed, Nadine caught sight of Banner, Stark and Rogers gathered not far from the jet, their voices low as they spoke. As she and Barton approached, though, they could easily hear what was being said.

"If even one tin soldier is left standing, we've lost," Stark was saying softly, his expression serious. "It's gonna be blood on the floor."

As she and Barton drew closer Steve glanced up to his teammate, his voice just as low but nearly unconcerned: "I got no plans tomorrow night." It was said casually enough, but there was no mistaking the acceptance, the indifference beneath it for Nadine. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably.

God, was he really that accepting of the prospect of not making it back? It had been long time since Nadine had felt so resigned to the likelihood of dying. Not since the Red Room.

Not since before Nina.

The most reserved grin she'd ever seen from Stark appeared on the billionaire's face before he continued.

"I get first crack at the big guy. Iron Man's the one he's waiting for."

"That's true, he hates you the most."

They all looked up as Thor's Vision strode past the three men, his comment utterly offhanded as he passed. Nadine was nearly tempted to laugh at the mildly indignant, stunned expression that appeared on Stark's face. Even so, she exchanged an amused grin with Barton as he slipped past her to start getting the Quinjet prepped to leave. Beside Stark, Banner actually snickered, earning an indignant look of his own. Even Steve huffed out a soft chuckle.

It was then that Banner noticed Barton striding past, looking over to where Nadine approached, the Twins following not far behind. The move caught the Captain and Stark's attention and, the three of them sobering, Steve stood slowly, his features growing reserved again even as Banner followed Stark onto the Quinjet.

As Nadine made to follow the doctor and the billionaire herself, Rogers' hand closed around her bicep. Nadine looked up to him, her controlled, emotionless expression already carefully in place. It nearly faltered at the intent, hard look on his face.

"About what happened on the way to Seoul?" She nearly flinched at his suddenly dispassionate tone, just barely able to keep from reacting. "That gets set aside until after the mission. Can you do that?" Careful control or not, her jaw clenched even as her stomach twisted uncomfortably. There was no mistaking that he had every intention of confronting her about what had happened, both on the Quinjet and years before in the Red Room, when this was all over. And she couldn't blame him. He had every right; her secret had threatened the team.

She nodded sharply in agreement, not trusting her voice in that moment. Inhaling deeply, he nodded once himself in acknowledgement, dropping his hold on her arm. Then, after levelling her with an unreadable, assessing look, he stepped past her.

And Nadine let loose the shaking breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

A/N: Thanks for Reading!

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