Budapest

Chapter 6:

Clint: I stood outside the door, leaving it open just a crack so I could hear what was going on in there. I dialled Fury, who answered in a half ring, "Barton, report."

"She says she doesn't know anything," I said, "And frankly, sir, I believe her."

"Barton, when I said your mission was to take her out, I didn't mean go on a date with her and have I nice dinner. I meant kill her," Fury said.

"Sir, I believe she could be a good source on some Russian Intel," I said.

"She's dangerous Barton, that's why I said kill remember," Fury said, "Trained by the Russian. Drakeov. She could lie to the best lie detectors of all time and they couldn't tell."

"Sir, I believe she's telling the truth. I believe she's deep enough in that even her lies could reveal secrets," I said.

"Unless, she's really as good as all our intel says she is," Fury said.

"Sir, I'm going to see what intel I can extract. The first sense of trouble, I'll terminate," I said.

"Barton, one of these days you're going to be the death of me," Fury sighed.

"I haven't yet sir," I said, before hanging up.

I walked back into the room, amazed Natasha was still tied up. "Drakeov, he scares you?" I asked.

"He's scared everyone, not just me," she said, a note of finality in her voice.

"Yes, but he scares you," I said.

"Yeah, doesn't your boss scare you?" she asked.

"Why? Why does Drakeov scare you?" I asked.

"He's intimidating, same reason your boss scares you," Natasha said.

"I never told you I was afraid of my boss," I pointed out. Not that she was wrong.

"You ignored my question. Isn't that just as good?" Natasha asked.

"My boss doesn't intimidate me," I said.

"He leads a secret organization in the US. If he doesn't intimidate you, then its something else," she said, raising an eyebrow.

"That's classified," I muttered.

"So your boss is secretive. He lives in a web full of lies, therefore you know he doesn't trust you, and you can't ever trust him," Natasha insinuated. I did a double take. How did she do that?

"You're interrogating me," I realized.

"You gave me a ton, thank you," she said with a crooked smile.

"You're turn," I said, fingering a specific arrowhead.

"Trying to inspire fear?" Natasha asked, obviously not pleased.

"This arrow has the ability to cause extremely painful muscle contractions," I said. I was lying of course. That would be sick, but the tech didn't exist except for in the Stark Arsenal. But she didn't need to know that.

"First," she said, "That's a normal arrow. You got that sideways smile you get when you think you're telling a good lie. And second, inspiring fear isn't going to work because my boss is a sociopath with a big fancy desk with millions of government dollars at his disposal."

I looked at her sideways, "You're giving me what I want?"

"Yep," she said.

"So I'm assuming there is one of two options. A: you're lying to me in hopes I'll go on a wild goose chase, leaving you unattended. B: You have a different plan in mind," I said cautiously.

She laughed, "Nice job Sherlock. It's either something, or its something else."

"So which of my stupid ideas is it?" I asked.

"The ladder," she said, "Maybe I'm telling you the truth because I want you to sympathize with me and help me get out of Russia, permanently. I give you what you want , and eventually, you give me what I want."

"You realize I have to trust you for that to happen, right?" I asked.

"Maybe," she said, giving me the sideways smile again. That was so cute- No! Bad Barton!

"I wish I could trust you," I said, "But since you have yet to tell me something true..."

"I told you my boss is an unstoppable sociopath. I told you I want out," she said.

"No," I said, "Here's your deal , tell me something real and I'll untie your hands. Not your feet, but at least you'll get rid of that ache in your wrists."

"Oh but there's still so much a girl can do with her hands," Natasha said. I had to look away so I didn't laugh. I waited.

"Fine!" Natasha said, "Just let me think of something."

"Shouldn't take much time," I told her, "We'd hate for me to think you're lying."

"I was a ballerina," she spatted out.

"You honestly expect me to believe that?" I asked, kind of hurt that she had gone to so little work.

"It's true. I was practicing to be in the Russian Ballet when..." she trailed off staring into space.

Natasha: I choked on the words. My parents died. When my world changed.

"What?" Clint asked, agitated.

"Nothing," I said, shaking my head.

"No, you're giving me more than that or-"

"Fine," I said, "When my parents died."

"How'd they die?" Clint asked.

"Icy road," I said, "I can't think well with all this blood rushing it my hands."

Clint rolled his eyes, taking a key and cutting the zip ties off my hands. I wiggled my pink and swollen fingers.

"They were hit from behind and spun out. Later I discovered it hadn't been just that. It had been planned," I said.

"By who?" Clint asked.

"That," I said, "would require another another reward."

"I see the game you're playing. Should I get you tied up again and see how big your mouth is then?" Clint asked.

"Did it ever cross your mind, American, that I was helping you out by not telling you things?" I asked, "Because there is a reason I don't tell people things about me."

"I'll let you order food if you tell me who ran your parents off the road," Clint said, "I'm not setting your feet free, if that's what you think. You can bet your life on that."

"I wasn't planning on betting," I said.

"Listen if you don't take this deal you starve," Clint said, "That's it."

"I guess I'll take the ladder again," I said.

Later, as the night went on, I decided that wasn't such a good idea. I was already going on my second day without food. By the time the sun went down, all I could think about was food and sleep. Once again, I chose the ladder. .