A shiver raced up Kit's arms as cold metal rings were slapped across her wrists in the form of handcuffs. She stood with her two captors as her hands were forced together in front of her. So far, it was a very strange start to the day and she had a feeling, it would only get stranger as time progressed.

"First the choking and now the handcuffs," she said to the woman, " you're pulling out all the stops on the first date, aren't you?"

She was completely ignored but she found that the handcuffs were made tighter, leaving her to make a small squeaking sound as it pinched her skin. They remained in the alleyway as the man left them to retrieve the vehicle. Several people walked passed, none of them paying any mind to the scene of Kit being handcuffed. All of them were too busy with their own daily lives, but if she chose to, Kit knew she could make a scene and draw attention to herself. But instead, she wanted to learn about the two that were after her first.

"Are these handcuffs really necessary?" Kit asked, attempting to start another conversation. "They're really uncomfortable."

"Well, we can't have you running off again, can we?" the woman answered. "So yes, they are-"

After rubbing her hands together, Kit shifted the handcuffs off and held them up, leaving them to dangle in front of the woman's face. There was a moment of silence between them before Kit held up the makeshift shim that she carried on her person. One thing she had been taught very early on was always have a plan of escape. She never thought she would be in a situation where she would be handcuffed by two people that weren't police officers, but there was a first for everything.

"Look," Kit began, " I already agreed to go with you, so the handcuffs aren't needed. You can return them to your bedpost, sweetheart."

For a second, Kit truly thought she was about to get knocked in the face after the comment she made. Usually, the other woman countered her with telling her to be quiet or something along the lines, however, Kit was starting to think that she had struck some sort of nerve. The clenched jaw paired with the silence was a strong indicator, leaving Kit to remain quiet until the man returned.

"Are you alright?" she heard him whisper to his partner, in which she nodded her head and added a gruff reply.

"Let's just get her into the car."

He shot Kit a questioning look, but in all honesty, she didn't think what she said had been that bad. It was a joke after all and if anyone had the right to be offended, it was her. She had already returned the forty dollars that she had taken, was it really that big of a deal that they had to take her somewhere?

She was placed in the back of the vehicle, a standard sedan of sorts that was paired with tinted windows. Scooting over to the middle, Kit positioned herself to lean forward to get some answers.

"So, we're going on a road trip?" She rolled her eyes when she didn't get an answer right away. " Alright, give me something here, what are you guys?"

As the other woman drove, it was the man that turned around in his seat to talk to her. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I think it's fairly obvious that you two aren't cops," Kit began, " so what are you? Who do you work for?"

"You'll get your answers when we get to where we're going," he told her, " for now, just sit back and...well, stay quiet."

"Where are we going?"

If they thought Kit was going to just go with them in complete and total silence, they were very wrong. She figured she had the right to know where she was being taken, especially depending on the consequences that awaited her.

"Didn't he tell you to stop talking?" the woman called out to her.

"And your point?" Kit countered. "Since when did he become a person I listen to? I don't know his name, nor do I know your name for that matter. So really, I don't have to listen to either one of you, especially when you won't give me any answers."

"You might want to reconsider your listening skills because you're in our custody if you haven't noticed."

Kit leaned further forward to look at the woman's side profile. "Custody? You mean like how you had me handcuffed me earlier? How did that work out for you? If I wanted to, I could get out of this car, no problem."

"So why don't you?" the woman said in a challenging tone that brought Kit to smile again.

"Maybe I like your company, or maybe I'm just curious, sue me."

As they reached a red light, Natasha turned around in her seat to look the woman dead in the eye. "You're curious? Did I hear you correctly?"

"Well, yeah," the woman flopped back in her seat, " it's not like I was doing much today anyways. Also, this is going to turn out to be one weird adventure, I can feel it."

"You don't feel like you're in any sort of danger?" Clint questioned her. He and Natasha were attempting to keep straight faces, it was what they were trained to do. However, the stranger in their custody wasn't making their job easy, even if she wasn't a master villain. She didn't threaten them, she didn't really insult them, instead, she just seemed to be along for the ride.

"If I was in danger, I figured you would have roughed me up back there a little more. You know, strike some fear into my heart. Usually, that's how it goes when I've pissed someone off and they send their henchmen. But instead, you two are taking me somewhere. Where, I don't know, and maybe that should make me fearful, but I'm not. So either give me a reason to fear you or don't question it."

"Are you suggesting that we pull over and kick your ass?" Natasha asked her. "If that's what you want, say no more."

"Oh, so you do have a sense of humour! You've been holding out on me this whole time."

"I do have a sense of humour but I only laugh when something is funny," Natasha said, " I think you can take a hint."

"Double ouch."

Thankfully, it seemed Natasha's shutdown method worked to keep the woman quiet. Throughout the entire ride, she said nothing, simply sitting in the backseat with her arms folded across her chest. If it wasn't for the noise taking place outside of the vehicle, Clint would have sworn that at some point that his hearing aid batteries had died or something of the sort.

They had orders to bring her to the Triskelion, as per orders of Director Fury. Clint didn't know what was really going to take place once they brought the woman in. So she was a skilled pick-pocketer, who managed to get lucky once, did that really count enough to bring her into S.H.I.E.L.D's radar?

He just figured it was a case of wounded egos, if someone got the best of a S.H.I.E.L.D agent then they suddenly were a person of interest. It didn't matter that S.H.I.E.L.D members were still human and prone to making mistakes. Clint and Natasha had underestimated a woman on the street, thinking she was just a regular person. It wasn't their smartest move, but he didn't see what the big deal was either.

All they were bringing in was a thief with a quick tongue.

When they finally arrived at headquarters, they brought the woman through the lower level. Clint decided to take it upon himself to offer taking her to Director Fury alone, knowing just how irritated she had managed to make Natasha. However, to his surprise, it was Natasha who volunteered to escort their "fugitive."

"Are you sure about this?" he asked her in a low whisper. " You two don't exactly get along."

"I hadn't noticed," Natasha retorted, " we'll be fine."

Left to stand there alone, Clint could only watch as Natasha escorted the woman onto the elevator, remaining until the doors closed.

"Well, it was nice knowing you, Ariel White or whatever your name was."

Kit stood in the elevator with the Weasley woman, examining her in her leather attire before finally meeting her gaze. Neither one of them had said anything to each other since arriving to the building. And out of her own character, Kit had remained quiet for the most part, just observing her surroundings. Eventually, she was caught staring by the woman, leaving another awkward moment to unfold.

"So how many people have come after you exactly?" she was asked, leaving Kit to start thinking back. She started counting on her fingers before finally giving up.

"To be honest, I lost count a long time ago."

"So why do you keep up with this act?" the woman continued. "Why do you keep getting yourself in trouble?"

"Well, I haven't had someone come after me in a while. Since I've pretty much perfected my skills, I know how to avoid trouble. You two are just some weird fluke. When people come after me, it was for larger sums of money and valuable items, not forty dollars."

"If you're used to escaping from handcuffs, you should have taken it as a sign that you're going after the wrong people. Obviously, you keep getting caught."

"It's been a long time since I've been cuffed. It's a rare occasion since the majority of my time in them was done on purpose. I was trained to escape them. You two just caught me off guard, that's all."

It grew quiet once more between them and it seemed the red head had something else to say, but it was all forgotten as the elevator doors opened a second later. Kit walked out, trying to figure out just where she was, but there wasn't much spying to be done when she was brought in a room to wait.

She was instructed to sit down in one of the chairs before the woman left her, closing the door and locking it behind her. Immediately, Kit ignored the instructions and made her way around the room, observing every inch of it to plan her escape route if it was necessary. She turned her gaze to the window and peered down the side of the building that stretched quite a ways down.

"I could make that," she mumbled to herself, " yeah, I can manage that."

The mentioning of the handcuff training had brought her back to memories of time spent with O'Malley. He had her sit in the living room of the apartment, where he would place the handcuffs on her and walk her through how to escape them.  He showed her how to make makeshift shims, and what to do in desperate situations.

It was a lot to take in at nine years old, but it was drilled into her head. "There's always a way out," he once told her and she always remembered it.

Just as she was sizing up the window opportunity for her escape, Kit heard the door open behind her. She whipped around, only to be left puzzled and speechless for a few seconds. A man, dawning a dark trenchcoat, and an eye patch walked in, glancing her over.

"Well, fuck me," she whispered to herself, "I knew today was going to be weird."