Natasha sipped of the last bottle of vodka and leaned back on the couch. Tony had long passed out after his fourth glass of whiskey in his overstuffed armchair. Steve since he was a super soldier couldn't get drunk like Tony and had retired to his room only slightly impaired. While Bruce had went down to the lab after a single glass of Captain Morgan, saying that alcohol made the other guy rowdy.

So Natasha drank alone, making her memories dull away with each swallow of Russian Stolichnaya. Staring out over the smog covered city she felt numb,completely numb.

After getting herself another bottle and taking a half-hearted sip she set it down and sighed. She could hardly taste it anymore. You know it's time to stop drinking when even straight up vodka tastes dull. She thought glumly, pulling herself to her feet.

Natasha walked with her hands out to balance herself as she made her way to her room. Around her the hallway walls began to smear and blur like wet paint, but she made it to her room without tripping too much.

Basically face planting on her bed she looked down at her clothes. A black t-shirt and some grey cargo pants.Good enough, she thought and squirmed underneath the covers.

Alcohol induced dreams quickly overtook her and Natasha found herself back in a huge familiar ballroom.

-------------------------------------

The party swirled around her but she was only paying attention to one man. Jozef Feher, a Estonian nobleman, the man whose file had been handed to her on a dirty street corner of Moscow with a single plane ticket and the orders of clean, quick and in the next forty-eight hours.

Her hand ghosted over the small but lightning sharp knife hidden under her dress and she stopped for a moment and stared at the party twirling around her.

You could be dancing like the rest of them. a tiny voice nagged in her head. You can have a life where you aren't constantly looking over your shoulder or washing dried blood out from under your nails.

Natasha tried to ignore it, but it had been talking more and more often. Part of her wanted to believe the voice, that she could do something other than hurt people but she knew better.

This was what she was trained to do. Her ledger was already red and she didn't know how to clean it, all she could do was stain it darker. She had nothing outside of killing, the red room made sure of that. She wasn't supposed to think about dancing or partying. That voice shouldn't be even there, it was a sign of weakness.

After trying her best to muffle the screaming voice she began to slowly circle in on the Estonian man. Until a hand tapped her shoulder and she heard a deep voice.

"Care to dance Miss.Romanov?"

Resisting every urge to spin around and break the man's arm who knew her name, she turned slowly to look at the man.

He was tall and well built, with darkish blonde hair and blue eyes. His nose was a bit crooked like it had been broken and re-broken a couple of times.

Natasha frowned, he seemed vaguely familiar "No thank you,I'm really quite busy at the moment."

"Oh come on. I have a feeling that one dance won't slow you down, will it?" The man smiled a funny smiled and she sighed.

"One dance."

He laughed "That's good enough for me."

As Natasha followed him out onto the dance floor she felt the pieces come together.

There was a reason he was familiar. One month ago a mission was interrupted by some American company's agent, her employers called him Hawkeye or Barton. They had his picture in the kill on site file,SHIELD agent they said.

Yet Natasha wasn't so sure she wanted to kill him yet. There was something about him that she couldn't figure out.

They danced for a song and then another, Natasha in an almost trance as she spun skillfully around the floor.

See how nice it is to dance without trying to kill someone for once? Natasha could almost feel the tiny voice smirking. That was what broke her out of her trance and sent her mind back into ninja-assassin mode.

What is an American agent doing in Estonia? She wondered as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Then her nails hit a thin wire, a comm set. Barton wasn't alone here, at least someone was feeding him information. He wasn't here on pleasure,he was here on business.

Natasha leaned in closer to the man as they danced.

"Were you sent here to kill me Agent Barton?" She whispered into his neck and he stiffened.

Jack pot.

She smiled as he quickly relaxed himself, trying to hide his reaction. A little too late Barton. She thought.

"How about we continue this conversation somewhere a little more private?" He suggested and without waiting for her response led her off the dance floor and into a nearby elevator.

When the doors pinged open Natasha found herself on one of what travel magazine had called "the most beautiful summer rooftop garden in all of Estonia!"

Too bad it's November.

Agent Barton made his way to the edge and leaned heavily on it ,looking out over the lightly snow dusted city. This year had been warmer than normal for Tallinn, it usually go more snow than this.

Natasha found herself a spot leaning against the edge close enough to Barton that they could talk, but far enough away to make a mad dash.

"Is this your first time in Tallinn?" She looked him over in the dim light of the cheap twinkle lights that were hung in the leafless trees. He wasn't dressed for Estonia, the weather tended to be wind and rain. Barton looked like his tux was for a night out in Brooklyn.

"Yah, first time in Estonia." He coughed lightly and looked over the skyline, "It's a pity I won't get to stay very long, it seems very beautiful."

Natasha bit her lip to stop from saying her next thoughts. It does seem very beautiful on the outside, but I wouldn't be here if it wasn't rotten on the inside like me. Instead she smiled at him.

"It really is a pity that you can't stay too long, but it doesn't mean you can't enjoy just a little bit of the city." Natasha edged closer to Barton and pointed to a spire in the distance "See that? That's Alexander Nevsky cathedral and over there is the Jägala waterfall" she pointed to a distant river.

Barton smiled and Natasha looked at him closer. His smile was good enough but it died at the edges, he wasn't happy. He was sad.

"You never answered my question," Natasha said softly.

"What question?" Clint looked at Natasha with a bit of curiosity.

"Are you here to kill me Agent Barton?"

Any shred of happiness in Clint's face was wiped away, now he just looked sad.

"I am." He answered softly without meeting Natasha's eyes.

There was no beating around the bush anymore. He was here to kill her and she had two choices;kill or be killed.

And this agent looked like he wasn't going down without a fight.

Natasha stared out at Tallinn, do I really want to fight him? She asked herself.

He was a good guy, she wasn't. He helped people and saved lives, she killed people for cash.

She could suddenly feel everyone she's ever killed staring at her, the guilt was almost overwhelming. She was the monster here, not Barton. Her.

Stepping away from the edge she looked the city over one last time. If there has to be a place where I die, Tallinn is a good one. Natasha thought heartlessly.

"Okay. I'm not gonna fight you, take your best shot Barton." She stared at him and readied herself for the bullet that was going to shatter her skull. But she didn't close her eyes, she wanted to see death greet her and lead her to hell.

Barton stared at her then pulled out his earpiece.

"No. I'm not going to kill you."

Natasha looked at him like he had three heads, "No? What are you gonna do?"

He met her green eyes with his blue grey ones, "I'm gonna offer you a job."

Natasha sprung up straight in her bed, chest heaving. The dream had been so real. She could almost feel Clint's calloused hands spinning her around the floor.

Her hand instinctively groped at the spot in the bed next to her,but hit nothing but air.

Clint isn't here, She reminded herself for the thousandth time this week. He dead, you have to move one.

Yet half of her still ached for Clint's arms around her during the night,chasing away the nightmares. For one more night curled together like kids. One more comforting hug, one more dorky smile, one more kiss on her cheek, one more second. One more chance to say I love you back.