April 11th: Beginnings/His Call ~ A bow and a gun. Face to face. Red hair, emerald green eyes, curves that trailed endlessly up and down her body. A killer in heels, and she knew it just as well as he did. He was sent to kill her, out to make sure she wouldn't be another problem on the face of the earth, destroying lives one at a time... but he couldn't. There was something about her, something so tempting about Natalia 'Alianovna' Romanova. The infamous Black Widow. How could erasing someone as valuable as her off the face of the planet in fact help SHIELD? Someone of her ability and prowess? Reasoning... maybe reasoning could bring her around so he wouldn't have to send an unholy arrow through her body. "I don't want to kill you." He finally admitted, keeping his bow steady as he eyed her with caution, slightly lowering the bow. "What makes you think I don't?" She rasped lowly, keeping her gun aimed at him, fingers feathering the trigger as she watched him just as intently. "I think we can make negotiate here." "My 'negotiations' usually end in a bullet through the head..." "You come back with me to SHIELD, you know, change your ways. Work some of that blood off your hands you might be willing to. Hell, could have a clean record by the end of this." He suggested, trying to coax her into the idea as he lowered his bow by his side, eyeing her and the gun, watching her finger on the trigger. Something must've been tempting her, he figured, because by the looks of it, her finger was willing to ease off of the gun at the idea. "What if I say no and decide to shoot you dead?" She asked, pursing her lips as she held the gun point blank, her glare on him easing into a playful smirk. "Then, I can end us both with one finger." He added with a slight shrug as his hand curled tight around the bow, his finger grazing over the button on his bow that would activate a bomb, blowing them both to bits. "You either walk away with me and a clean slate, or die a slow death? You seem like you're a pretty intelligent woman... I assume you'd pick option A." She let out a slight laugh, shaking her head a little and lowering her gun on the slightest. "What do you really want, Agent Barton? A good fuck? Is that what this is about?" "Absolutely." He answered almost immediately in a teasing manner, rolling his eyes and taking another step towards her, testing what she'd do. The gun remained lowered by her hip. "No, I just see a lot of potential that could go to waste if I end you here. Plus, I'd like to live a day or two more." "SHIELD's that far gone they need a Soviet murderer to strengthen their name, huh?" And that dirty smirk one her face sent some kind of feeling up his spine that he wasn't too sure of. He couldn't help but smile back and raising his hands in defense. "What can I say? We need more than just me to work as SHIELD's finest." "This doesn't me I trust you entirely." "Nor I you." He added, nodding in agreement as he began to walk, waiting for her to trod beside him. "Then maybe we can work on that along the way, partner." She retorted, grinning smugly and nudging his shoulder as she walked with him, willingly, for once in her life. Sooner than later, it'd be known that Clint Barton was not just the only man she'd ever not strangled between her thighs, but he'd be the only man that ever got her to fall head over heels, because she wanted him. For him alone. And he wanted her... not just for the sex, which was a surprise she'd yet to have seen out of a man. Maybe Clint Barton was a good man.. just maybe.
