Clint took it upon himself to climb to the top of the building, leaving Natasha waiting at the bottom. Before he left though, she advised him to be careful. He only offered a reassuring smile, telling her that he was going to talk the woman down and everything would be okay. Truly, he wasn't looking for a fight, even if Natasha was ready for one. It was her instinct to be on alert and maybe he should have been more prone to being on his toes, but that required more energy that he just wasn't willing to spare that day.

As he reached the top, the woman remained across the way, a grin on her face as he approached. Clint remained somewhat cautious though, unsure if she was going to make another run for it. If she dared, there was no saving her from Natasha's grasp when she was caught.

He opened his mouth to greet her, but she beat him to it. "What's up, Buttercup? What took you so long?"

She had been sitting as he took another step closer, only to lie down as if she was attempting to make herself comfortable. There weren't many things that surprised him anymore, especially after meeting the other members of the Avengers team, but for the stranger to act so aloof, it was rather baffling.

Sure, criminals and villains had a tendency to be cocky, but she was a whole other mood entirely.

Clint placed his hands in his pockets before clearing his throat. "You're the one who pick-pocketed me the other night."

"Indeed I am."

"Why?"

A loud snort emitted from her as she looked away from him for a second. "Is that really the question you want to ask me? You chased me down, climbed up here, all with the intention to ask why I pick-pocketed you? I think the answer is a little obvious, don't you think, handsome?"

He gave a shrug of his shoulders, making it seem like it wasn't as obvious as she claimed it to be. "You don't look like you need the money," Clint told her, noting her attire with a nod of his head, " you look well taken care of."

"Oh, well, thank you," she said, "I do appreciate taking care of myself. But if it makes you feel better, it's not like you're my first. Trust me, there have been plenty of others before you, a girl's gotta make a living somehow."

With a wink of her eye, Clint found himself struggling not to blush. Her flirtatious behaviour continued to catch him off guard, usually since criminals just liked to smart mouth him with insults and not tease him in such ways.

"No matter how you put it, you steal."

Suddenly, she started shaking her head. "No, no, no," she told him, " we don't call it stealing. It's a form of art, my good sir."

"Art?"

"Oh, yes. You see, pick-pocketing is a lost art," she explained. "So precise and just like how not everyone can paint, not everyone can pick-pocket."

"So, you're calling yourself an artist then?"

"A misunderstood one if you will."

Folding his arms, Clint had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at her little spiel to make it sound like whatever she was doing wasn't necessarily a bad thing. He also knew that Natasha would be growing impatient if he kept her waiting for long, curiosity would get the best of her and she would have to investigate to make sure everything was going over smoothly.

"I don't consider you an artist," he said, watching the woman's smile fade, "I consider you a thief."

However, she wasn't nearly as wounded by his words as he initially believed because while there was a pout formed with her lips, her eyes flickered with amusement.

"Ouch, such a harsh term."

"Well, the truth hurts."

It seemed the playful banter came to an end as she folded her arms to match his stance. Her eyes narrowed as she met his gaze. "So, why don't you be honest with me, what do you really want? Because judging by your appearance, I don't think you were hurting so bad to hunt me down for forty dollars."

"What's your name?"

"Jasmine."

Her reply was prompt, but Clint didn't believe it as he repeated the name in his head. She continued to hold his gaze, however, she seemed to become uneasy at the mention of a name.

"You don't look like a Jasmine to me."

"I didn't realise that Jasmine's came with a trademark appearance.Oh, you got me," she said in a feigned surprised tone, " forgive me, my name is Ariel. Ariel White."

Deep down, Clint knew both names sounded too familiar, but he couldn't remember from where right away. He did see that the smile returned to her face though as she waited on his response. He stood still and quiet for a moment, searching through every bit of his memory bank until it finally clicked.

"Did you just give me false names based on Disney Princesses?"

Suddenly, she started laughing before giving a nod of her head. "Guilty! Well, it seems we've got ourselves a Disney fan. Normally men don't quite catch onto those when I use them. I love a cultured man."

Clint let out a tired sigh. "What's your real name?"

"I don't think it's in my best interest to disclose that information."

"Why not?"

"Well, between you and me," she started to whisper, " I don't think your red-headed friend down there seems to like me very much. I don't think I want her to know my name."

"I don't have to tell her," Clint offered in a promising tone, only to be drowned out by laughing again.

"And you expect me to believe that?!"

"You expected me to believe that your name was Ariel White?"

She was finally quiet again, looking away from him as she focused on her shoes. It seemed she was slightly wounded that he had mocked her use of Disney names.

"Look, what exactly do you want from me?"

"Well, for starters, it wouldn't hurt to give me back my forty dollars."

Muttering out a "fine," the woman proceeded to dig into her pocket and pull out a large wad of cash. Clint stood there slightly bewildered that she was carrying so much money on her person and wondered how much, if not all of it, was stolen. She took out two twenties from her stash and put the rest away before holding out the money to him.

"Here you go. Anything else?"

"Yeah, don't move!"

Within seconds, Natasha appeared from behind her, using the building's fire escape to catch her off guard. She came up and grabbed the woman, her arms wrapped closely around the woman's neck to stop her from all attempts of fighting back.

"Oooh, a sneak attack!" the woman said with a limited breath. " A classic move, I should have seen that coming. But listen, honey, if you're going to choke me, could you at least take me to dinner first? I liked to be wined and dined before all strenuous activities if you catch my drift."

For a moment, Clint could see Natasha contemplating whether or not the fall would be enough to kill the woman if she decided to drop her.

At the very least, Clint was able to convince Natasha to let the woman go, or loosen her hold up so the woman didn't feel threatened. After all, they were trying to get information out of her, and she really had no place to run. She was outnumbered and she seemed to know it as she didn't attempt to make a break for it. Natasha released her, but remained close, obviously not trusting that no funny business would take place.

"You two are so incredibly clever, aren't you?" the woman said, rubbing her neck. "One of you distracting me, while the other one climbed up to attack me from behind. So smart."

"Are you being condescending?" Natasha questioned her. "Because I don't like condescending."

"I gather you don't like a lot of things," she replied, " but what do I know? So what's the deal with you two? Who do you work for and what do you plan on doing to me? I rather get this over with while the day is young."

Out of the corner of their eyes, Natasha and Clint exchanged looks before turning their full attention to her again.

"Get what over with?" Clint asked her.

"Well, you two obviously felt the need to track me down and I don't think it was over forty dollars or to share in this friendly chatter. So what is it? Were you two a set up to catch me? Who do you work for? The Donovan Brothers? The Sealey family? Nah, you don't look like you work for either of them, you're not their type of thugs. You're too smart to be part of that crowd."

As she seemed to be in thought of what their affiliation was, the woman started to move her arms, but Natasha was quick to try and stop her before she did anything.

"Whoa! " she threw her hands up in defence. "Easy there, Weasley, I'm just trying to stretch here!"

Immediately, Clint had to bite down on his tongue, no matter how much it hurt, in order to not laugh in front of Natasha. He could tell by her expression that she did not find the Weasley comment funny, and if he laughed, well, he could just kiss his ass goodbye. However, there wasn't a chance of him reacting as the woman looked over at Natasha.

"Oh come on, even that didn't get a smile out of you?" she asked. "You're a tough shell to crack. You could smile, you know, I bet you have a beautiful one. Besides, the Weasleys were some of the best characters in the Harry Potter series, you should feel flattered by such a compliment."

"Well, I don't," Natasha said, " I never read the series. So I really wouldn't know."

The woman gasped and placed her hand to her chest. "You never read the books? Oh goodness, well, no wonder you're so angry. Listen, I know the library that has the whole set, it's just a few blocks from here. We will get you started today-"

"No, we're not going to the library," Natasha cut her off, " you're not going anywhere because you're coming with us."

"I don't see how that works," the woman said, " you just said I wasn't going anywhere, so how am I going somewhere with you? I'm so confused!"

There was no more room for games as Natasha grabbed her by the arm and started guiding her over to the fire escape. She shot a look in Clint's direction, showing that she was not amused by the neverending chatterbox that they were requested to get. However, Clint only gave her a shrug in response, if she hadn't gone to Fury, they wouldn't have been bothered to track the woman down. But deep down, it was kinda glad that Fury was caught up in his curiosity because even if the woman liked to talk circles around them, she certainly was interesting.

Even Natasha couldn't deny that.

"You're like a mixture of Molly and Ginny, on the surface," the woman said as she was led down, "but you know, I bet you're a total sweetheart like Arthur. Do you like rubber ducks by any chance?"

"Please stop making references to these characters. I don't know what you're talking about and quite frankly, it's annoying."

"I'm seeing a little Percy in you too."