Deception is her forte.

“Some kinda professional? I got a PhD, mother fucker. I’ve worked with the greatest minds, treated the most lost, and blown up more hospitals than any professional in the feild.”

Harley reached under the box and ripped off the small piece of hot pink duct tape that held the small key in place.

“For example,” she smiled, “I’ve got this metal box right? And you, you have no idea what’s inside. Now you’ve read Waller’s file on me, sure, so you could make a few decent guesses.”

Her voice didn’t carry as thick of an accent as she spoke now. She slowly peeled the tape off the key and then suck the end of it on the table before looking up at Yelena with serious eyes.

“What do you think I have in here?” She asked rhetorically, “Gun? Bomb? Cash? Maybe Waller was really thorough and you’d even guess some of the fun toys Joker and I have when unexpected guests show up.”

This was the side if Harley she didn’t often show. It was cold, calculating, and serious in a way that didn’t align with her normal personality at all. Just as quickly as that side of her appeared, it was gone again beneath a wide grin and rolling eyes.

“Point is, Toots, despite what the Ice Queen may have told ya, you don’t know jack shit about me or what she’s gonna make us do for that matter. And yes, I mean us.”

She put the key in the box and unlocked it, revealing a large stash of candy…and drugs.

“Oh, and if ya had killed me like ya said ya could have,” Harley paused as she brought out a packet of Reeses and tossed them across the table, “This entire base would’ve exploded. Just as a heads up for future girls nights.”

\

As the clown seemed to lose patience, Yelena groaned under her breath. “I thought you would of been a lot more fun than this.” She leaned back in her seat, almost like a petulant child who was becoming bored from visiting a relative of some sort. “What is in the box?” The way she asked however showed she didn’t particularly care. Just going along with whatever this was. As she continued to talk, Yelena nodded slowly before smirking. “That would not be a cool way to die but, you are wrong about one thing.” Yelena sat back up and leaned on the table, grabbing the Reeses candy. “I know a lot about you, Harleen Quinzel.” She stated. “Alcoholic father. Tried to abandon you a lot. Abandoned to an orphanage ran by nuns and was poorly behaved including hitting a nun with an oar. You got a scholarship to Gotham University using gymnastics and was a model student with a lot of boyfriends, one called Guy Kopski who is now deceased. You worked at Arkham Asylum and that is where you met the pale man and the rest is history.” She listed off her life like a dossier. “I can keep going if you like?” She suggested as she opened the Reeses.

Sight seeing? Black widow? Ants? Was she some sort of tourist assassin? Some sort of sicko that posed with the people she killed? Was she even with Waller?

“And just why should I believe anything you have to say, Taranula?” She asked as she sipped her Coke and plopped herself down across from Yelena. She was either lying, and nothing would happen even if Harley did wait, or she was being honest which meant Harley had to save her strength for all the hack-job soldiers that were coming her way.

“As far as I know you’re some wacko spider freak that gets her rocks off harassing innocent clowns.”

She brought her boots up onto the table to feign relaxing as she held the little metal box in her lap.

“Which by the way, also not normally on the girls night list,” she paused before giving q wide grin, “Hey, maybe the ants can fill you in before you chomp them with your weird spider fangs!”

\

Yelena stayed quiet for a moment, after asking her question. She let the room speak for itself before she spoke. “Because, Harleen Quinzel, you see that door you walked through?” She gestured to it with a nod before she spoke again. “You would of been dead before you had time to close it if I wanted to but I didn’t.” She said simply, as if stating a fact rather than something threatening. “That and you are some sort of psychologist, yes? I may be trained as a professional liar but I do believe in commerce. I get something. You get something.” Yelena sat up straight. “I get paid. You get to live. I feel that is a fair trade.” As she stated that she was harassing innocent clowns, Yelena burst into laughter, holding her side. “You are funny, Harleen Quinzel. Very funny. That was the best one yet.” She soothed herself as she wiped under her left eye. “Oh stop being a spoil sport. It is my first time. Girls night I mean. This is very routine.” Yelena said as she gestured between them.

The Squad? Like THE Squad? The Squad where she nearly got killed every time? The Squad that took her away from Mistah J on multiple accounts and made her work with a weird Rat guy thing? Made sense.

“It’s really more like, woah, this dumb broad is eatin’ my candy bar I was savin’ for tonight and for some reason thinks I’m gonna go back to Amanda fucking Waller.”

Harley walked to the fridge and tossed her pistol on the metal shelf inside before grabbing a Vanilla Coke from the door.

“Also, for the record, your idea of a girl’s night sucks if this was your plan. Where’s the margaritas? The face masks? The strippers we cover in quick dry cement and throw out the window?”

She grabbed a second can and cracked it open as if to offer it to Yelena before taking a giant sip and throwing the can across the room. This bitch wasn’t getting her Vanilla Coke too.

“And what are you gettin’ outta this anyway? She promise to take the little boom chip out ya noggin? Because news flash, Waller is a lying ice queen who don’t care about no body.”

Harley reached above the fridge to pull down a warm can of lemon Seltzer, as well as a small metal container that was hidden under the empty shell of a Raisin Bran box. She placed it on the table with a heavy thud before offering Yelena the warm drink.

“Sorry I’m all out of cold ones.”

\

Yelena gasped playfully. “Dumb broad? I broke into your base without breaking anything while you and your clown man decide to gas an entire city. I’m a lot of things but dumb I am not.” She pointed out, chewing the candy bar. “I’ve never done a girl’s night.” She gasped, raising her hands as she looked to the other. As Harley made a somewhat power play with the coke, Yelena sat, not phased. “Now that was just wasteful and you made a mess. Do you want ants? That is how you get ants.” She said, her tone still rather casual. At her question, Yelena watched her. “I’m a Black Widow, Harleen Quinzel. I work for hire. Amanda hired me. Fair enough, I did kill some of her squad but they interfered with the job. She paid more.” She watched the other carefully. “Look, Harleen, this isn’t personal for me. This is a job.” She shrugged. “And whatever you say or do, this is inevitable.” She said as she placed the can in front of her. “So, I would personally like to complete this job without having blood getting involved since I am going sight seeing after this.”

How did this chick know her actual name? How did she get in without Harley being notified? Who did she think she was threatening her in her own base? Why was she eating her candy?! There were too many questions Harley wanted the answer to despite also wanting to blast the other woman in the face and move on with her night. Hearing Harleen felt wrong in their base, but the PhD in the back of her mind was clawing its way to the front. She did like girls nights.

“Yelena, I hate ta disappoint ya, but Harleen hasn’t been around in quite some time,” she responded before pointing the gun straight up and firing a shot into the ceiling.

“May I ask why the hell ya lookin’ for her anyway? Ya accent doesn’t really give off relative vibes, and considerin you’re here and not in a hospital or library you definitely haven’t kept in touch.”

\

Yelena sat back in her seat, getting comfortable as she watched the other blonde. She didn’t really bring up anything, letting the other woman process what was happening. “But that is your name, isn’t it? Harleen Quinzel?” She asked simply before shrugging a little at her. At her questions, Yelena looked back to where she fired. “I know what you are thinking. What is going on? This is craaaazy.” She chuckled. “There is this strange woman in my house. Calling me my real name. Isn’t scared of a gun.” She shifted on her seat as she looked back at Harley. “You are returning to the Squad. They chose me as the suitable person to do so.” She said simply as she smiled. “They told me not to kill you which, I must admit, is a little boring but your wardrobe has brownie points from me.” She stated simply. “So, you can either take a seat and wait for extraction or I can put you in intensive care and then you’ll be drafted back into the Task Force.” She smiled broadly. “Come on. Indulge me in a little fun.”

Harley had been out playing peace-maker with the Irish, with her bat, and guns, and a confetti bomb for pizazz. It was a pretty regular night out while Mistah J dealt with the serious business up town. While she loved that he trusted her with taking care of his problems, she wished he’d let her really shine front and center with him. Sometimes she got to, and it was amazing, but other times his mind was too busy to also have her there.

She walked through the fun-house-mirror-lined entryway, tossing her keys to the side as she called out to see if anyone was home. When she saw some random blonde sitting in Mistah J’s chair though, she had to hold back a scream. Was this some sort of joke? Did her Puddin’ bring back some Dollar Tree version of her to make her mad? Because it fucking worked.

Harley pulled her gun and pointed it at the other woman.

“Who the hell are you?” She smiled as she cocked her head to the side with a grin. “And please pick ya words very carefully cuz’ I JUST finished cleanin’ these tiles.”

\

Of course, that was the reaction she got. Yelena sighed to herself, playing with a blonde lock of hair. “I’m Yelena Belova and your Harleen Quinzel, yes?” She asked, though she really didn’t need the confirmation. Her research was solid. Yelena stood up for a moment. “Stop being so aggressive. I didn’t bring any weapons.” She said, gesturing to the firearm pointed at her. “That was a lie. I don’t currently have any weapons in my hands.” She corrected herself as she opened the candy bar. “I love American candy.” She said, taking a bite and sighing with content. “Come on. Don’t be so aggressive.” She told her, taking a seat again and gesturing to the one across from her. She continued to chew before she spoke again. “Unless you want to die but I’m looking for more of a girls night. You like girls nights, don’t you Harleen Quinzel?”

@side-of-puddin

…

Bucky snorted. “Not likely.” Those obviously weren’t the only options but he didn’t miss her sarcasm. His jaw tightened at her next statement but he nodded. “Guess so.” He’d never wanted to be a killer, never even really wanted to join the army, but he’d been drafted and Steve had been so desperate to go that he’d never dared mention he would’ve rather stayed at home. At least he’d looked good in the uniform, he remembered thinking that, what felt like lifetimes ago. There was no denying he was a killer now, though, and a damn good one, whether he wanted that or not. Her next comment just made him feel tired and immeasurably old. Shouldn’t he be the one saying that? She was too young for it, surely. But he wasn’t out here to change her mind. He barely had enough energy to cling to what little hope he sometimes had for himself let alone try to spark some in her so he shrugged. “If that’s what you believe then I guess they won.” He said, simply, because that’s how it seemed to him.

If he didn’t hope, if he didn’t try to change, if he didn’t seek something other than what they’d made him, then HYDRA won and he wasn’t a person anymore. He refused to let them win, even in his darkest moments. A slight smile touched his lips, not because she’d never been to a place like this, but because there were in fact places like this in real life. “They exist, or at least they used to. Obviously not anymore.” Which was a damn shame. “Time was this place was packed with people. The rides were goin’, all you could smell was fried food. There were games where you could pay a nickel and win a prize for your girl…” He trailed off, shaking his head, knowing he sounded like an old man reminiscing, but that’s what he was, dammit. “Sorry.” She didn’t need to wander down memory lane with him, especially when she had no real concept of what he was talking about.

\

Despite putting her weapon away, Yelena was still somewhat tense. She had never really been close to anyone other than a target and even then she was controlled. Made to go against what she had wanted. The line got blurry after awhile and though she was now free, what was she going out into the world with? A deadly skill set and no one else. What was a Widow without a purpose? As he said he guessed so, Yelena watched him for a moment before shrugging. “We are defined by what we do. Not by nice words.” She told him before slowly nodding. She didn’t believe in heroes and villains but more in what the other person did. She was neither. She was a killer; plain and simple. Keep it clean cut and dry. As he stated that they had won if she truly thought that, Yelena stayed quiet before slowly nodding. “They always do. I have a lot of things to remember them by.” 

…

“Thought we just decided not to do that.” That had seemed the whole point of the lowering their weapons thing, after all. His eyes hardened a little as she seemed insistent on that still being part of Bucky even if he didn’t do it anymore. He knew that, of course, but he didn’t need strangers reminding him of it, especially not right now. “I wasn’t trying to deny it.” It was a little harder, almost snappish, and he took an irritated drag from his cigarette. So much for calming down. Bucky heard her mutterings about happiness and he sighed, more tired again than irritated. “Here’s hoping that’s not always true.” He didn’t feel like he had a lot of hope but there was some, buried deep, that he might be able to work this all out eventually. When she holstered her weapon, Bucky did as well, glad to be finally done with that particular part of this exchange. She answered his question, sort of, but it made sense to him so he nodded. Bucky knew what that was like, after all. “Maybe you will.” It was quiet, but sincere. Everyone should be more than an assassin, maybe especially people like them though it was harder to believe and become than either of them would probably want. Expectedly, she turned the question around and he sighed, glancing out over the abandoned fairground again before returning to her. “Remembering and trying to forget.” He knew that was cryptic so he elaborated. “I used to come here a long time ago, when it wasn’t abandoned.” 

\

“I don’t know. What else are supposed to do? Trade friendship bracelets?” Yelena asked bluntly, her question dripping in sarcasm. “Good. A killer knows a killer.” She said simply, removing the plush teddy from behind her as she held it between her hands, her thumb slowly stroking over it. “I choose not to hope. Hope breeds eternal misery.” She responded as if it was fact, looking up at him. As he mentioned that maybe she could, Yelena laughed under her breath. “Like what?” She asked sharply. “There is nothing out here for people like me. Like you.” She stated. As he mentioned this used to be a place that he would visit, Yelena looked around again, taking in the surroundings. “I’ve never been to something like this. I thought things like this only existed in the movies.” She admitted as she looked back to the teddy bear. 

…

“Yeah, and we’ve gone over why I have one.” Bucky wasn’t about to rehash the whole it was stupid to walk around unarmed point. But then, apparently, his reputation had preceded him which made a little more sense if she was…jumpy. Then again, most ex-Red Room or even ex-Hydra for that matter were pretty jumpy, it just came with the territory. Bucky wasn’t surprised to hear that he was painted as the Bogeyman for the Red Room girls, he would’ve done exactly that if he’d been ordered to. That didn’t mean he liked hearing it, though. He nodded and sighed. “Well, like I said, I don’t do that anymore.” It was quieter now, his guilty conscience weighing heavily on him. And to think, with what felt like a snap of the alien’s fingers, he could be that person again, or they could make him into some new form of horror. His shoulders stiffened at the thought. That’s what he’d come here to forget about but apparently it was just going to keep plaguing him. 

Finally, she pulled her gun up and he dropped his to his side almost immediately. At the question, he huffed a bitter laugh. “Not for a long time, but it’ll do.” He holstered his gun and took another drag from his cigarette. “So what’s an ex-Widow doing at an abandoned fairground?” She could probably ask him the same question but he was eager to not focus on his own thoughts so this would at least be distracting. Maybe it had something to do with that stuffed animal she was protecting like it was a child. 

\

As the two spoke in circles, Yelena stared back at him. “Shall we just try and kill each other now?” She asked in a dry tone. She supposed that was how this was going to go down. “And I don’t topple regimes for Russia anymore. Doesn't make me any less of a killer.” She had learned to be somewhat okay with the work she had done. If anything, it had become a comfort blanket and a purpose. “Don’t count on it. It is usually a lie anyway.” She muttered as he stated that he wasn’t sure how he would be happy anytime soon. At his question, Yelena slipped the gun into her holster. “What is an ex-Widow to do when she has no purpose?” She asked in return. “So I just wander down, trying to find what else I am besides an assassin.” She said before slowly shaking her head. “Haven’t found something I am better at yet.” Yelena watched him for a moment. “What is an ex-HYDRA agent doing in a fairground?”

Amanda did not know nor did she care about Yelena’s issues with Natasha. Surely that was something she could address on her own. The task at hand and the future of the organization she supported mattered more to Amanda than any individual journey. So she simply nodded. The Red Room and its legacy had been an irritant to the United States for some time, but they had also been adept at containing any information about it within Russian borders. The assassins could be found, but many died before they were able to be interrogated, and many died during the interrogation. Only Romanoff had been able to give them valuable information when she had defected. Barnes might have been able to, had the US ever been able to take him into custody. But Captain America had made sure that no one could lay claim to the war criminal known as the Winter Soldier. The United States Government had not forgotten that either. Still, it was convenient to allow Rogers to run his organization against Darkseid at the moment, so they did not push to interfere. If they were facing armageddon, Barnes’ trial wasn’t a priority.

“If you can do so much, do this,” Amanda countered. “And perhaps from there we can work on something you’d find more up to skill.”

Considering the terms, Amanda gave a single nod. “Done. This is a live capture, as you have pointed out. There will be no need to detonate the explosive if you don’t deviate off-mission. You will wear a communication piece connected both to headquarters here and to our field commander, Colonel Rick Flag. Not negotiable. If we pull the plug on the op, you will report for extraction. Everything else is up to you. Bring us Quinn, and we’ll consider allowing renegotiation of the terms of your recruitment.”

\

As Waller stated for her to do this if she was so capable, Yelena sucked her teeth for a moment. “Fine.” She raised her hands in surrender for a moment. After all, it meant she could do something other than stare at the wall. As Waller stated it was a live capture, Yelena nodded her head like a petulant child. “Yes, yes, keep the crazy lady alive.” She sighed. “And what do I do if she tries to kill me? Just let her stab me?” She asked. She was not going to allow that to happen at all. “Enough talk. When do we deploy?” She asked, standing up.

…

Bucky made a frustrated sound and his grip on his gun tightened for a moment, though his trigger finger remained steady. They were still talking in circles and it was really pissing him off. “I was just walking. That’s not very goddamn threatening. You followed me.” So he was losing his temper now but that was bound to happen, given how wound up he was and now this whole stand off situation making it considerably worse. She wasn’t wrong, though, he was a threat, a big one, but she shouldn’t know that unless she recognized him which it was clear now she didn’t, not really. 

At least his suspicions were confirmed when she brought up the Red Room. He’d figured as much so he tried, with difficulty, to rein in his anger and frustration. “No. Not for years.” It was flat but true and while he could be a good liar when he wanted to be he was nothing but sincere now. Keeping his eyes on her, he took a drag from his cigarette, still clutched in the metal fingers, hoping the smoke would calm him. “Can we quit with the whole stand off now?” He asked, blowing out the smoke. He was still irritated but also just…tired. “I’m not here to take you anywhere or force you to do anything or hurt you. I don’t do that anymore.” The exhaustion was coming through in his voice now, he was sure, but he was still too well trained to be the first to drop his gun. They’d probably have to count to three or something but at least it seemed less likely now that it would turn into a shoot out.

\

Yelena tutted. “I was here first. I haven’t saw anybody here until today and he shows up with a gun.” She told him bluntly as she edged back a little on her feet. “You don’t think I have heard about you? The killer with the metal arm?” She asked as if it was obvious. “They called you the Bogeyman. That if a Widow was ever thinking of going against them that you would come in the night and kill us.” Yelena told him, recounting the old story she was reminded every night with. They may have known how to break out of handcuffs but they never dared try. Not if they didn’t want the Bogeyman coming to get them in the snow covered hills.

As he asked to stop the whole stand off, Yelena’s lips twitched for a moment, hesitant in to actual heed his warning. As he confirmed to her he wasn’t here to do anything to her, Yelena didn’t budge for a moment. After a tense moment that seemed to last forever, she gave in and raised her gun as a surrender motion, her other hand still clutching the plushie behind her back. “Happy?”

Amanda watched the other in silence, though her mouth lifted into a smirk. “I suppose that would explain the rising and falling of Russia’s government, the starvation and poverty in their rural provinces, and the generally ineffectual approach to warfare, foreign and domestic affairs, et cetera. No foresight. I wouldn’t call myself a patriot, Miss Belova, but I’m not sure Russia’s any better off in this race than the US.” She thought it was painfully black and white, the view Yelena presented. But again, it didn’t matter.

“I do know what it means,” she answered. “It’s why you’re here. So far, though, the backtalk and flippancy reminds me exactly of ‘meathead op soldiers’. I’m hoping on the job you slip on another face.” 

The threat fell on uninterested ears. “I haven’t underestimated you, Belova. You’d do well to afford me the same courtesy.” Leaning in once more, she shrugged. “It’s very simple, really. For now, you do this for me. In exchange, I won’t detonate the high-level explosive we implanted while you were sedated on the trip over. It’s currently nestled right next to your spine. At the push of a button, you’re nothing more than a smear on the floor. Another wasted asset. Personally, I can think of better ways to go out. And it sounds like you can as well.”

\

“I’m not loyal to them. Not after what they did to me.” Yelena told her through tight lips. “And Natalia? She knew. She left us all down their to rot together.” She hissed as she leaned forward. Though Natasha may of not agreed, this was personal to her and there was no handler to tell her to drop it. No one to dissuade her. Natalia got to live the American dream so to speak and the she was left to behind to suffer. That she would not forgive. 

“Because, I have destabilized countries from within the inside. Took out some of the best in the business and you want to hire me to catch a psychotic clown lady.” She gestured to the pad again with the paused footage. “I can do so much and this is what you want me to do?” She repeated, licking her lips for a moment as if insulted. 

“People don’t usually hire assassins for captures.” She pointed out, looking up at the other woman. As she explained why she would do it, Yelena looked at her before chuckling. “My God, that’s cool.” She could give her that. “I mean, you could’ve of just asked but your way is a little more interesting I’ll give you that.” Yelena watched her for a moment. “Fine. I’m in but if I do this, I want my gear and you trust me to know what I’m doing as much as I am trusting for you not to get trigger happy on me.” She watched the other woman, to see any flinch of betrayal. “I think that sounds fair.”

“Tell that to her,” Amanda answered. Frankly, she didn’t care about Belova’s faulty intel. If anything, it was something she could use at a later date if necessary. After all, every one of these operatives needed a leash or a control rod. It just became a matter of determining what the correct methods were. This woman may think herself infallible, but no one was. Not even Amanda, herself, though she attempted to present as such. In that, she and Belova weren’t so different. 

“Because she’s of no use to me dead,” Amanda answered tightly. She didn’t like to be questioned, even if the delinquents she dealt with often had the audacity. “And if it were that simple, don’t you think it would have been handled by now?” She shook her head, sitting back in her chair. “There is a delicate balance to every one of our cities right now, Miss Belova. Kill the Joker, release the underbelly he keeps in line onto the overflowing refugee problem in Gotham. That’s a lot of paperwork back at headquarters. Doesn’t Russia teach the Domino Effect?” She shook her head.

Reaching for a tablet on the table, Amanda pulled up some captured footage of Harley Quinn laughing gleefully as she swung a massive hammer, deployed five grenades with reckless abandon, killed a man with his own gun. She was far more capable than her appearance gave her credit for. “She’s an Olympic-level gymnast,” Waller explained. “Excellent with improvised weaponry, a genius with an intimate knowledge of the inner mind. She’s not to be underestimated.”

Nodding to the tablet again, Waller added: “We sent twenty agents on that op. One survived and he came home with a Chelsea Grin.” Perhaps that would offer Belova some much needed perspective.

\

“Get her in here and I will.” Yelena countered before even a second of silence could pass after Amanda’s sentence. As she explained that there was no use for the woman if she was dead, Yelena looked back at her. “She isn’t exactly being useful now, is she?” She chuckled dryly as she let out a long sigh as she looked up at the ceiling for a moment. “I don’t know. I find American targets to be rather easy.” She shrugged as to why the woman wasn’t captured if Yelena thought it to be so easy. As she spoke about the ramifications of killing her, Yelena’s head tilted her. “They teach us that if someone is a problem, you put them in the ground. Problem solved.” She responded. 

She watched the footage, chuckling under her breath. “Impressive. Impressively messy that is.” She said as she looked back at Amanda. As she explained how many agents she had sent in, Yelena rolled her eyes a little. “No offense but I’m not one of your meathead op soldiers.” She told her, glancing to one of the guards in the room. “I’m a Widow. You should know what that means if your a smart lady.” She said simply. 

“Because I can end this right now. I could kill your friend. Kill you and either make it out alive or die trying. Though dying that way kinda sucks.” She shrugged as she leaned forward. “And I like an opportunity once it presents itself.” She smiled. “But let us cut the bullshit and get to the real deal. What do I get out of this? And please don’t give me some cheesy line about American freedom otherwise I’ll throw myself to the monsters outside.”

Looking at her pointedly, Amanda studied her. “One of, yes. Miss Romanoff has more kills than you do last I checked. She was very good for Russia before she was ours.” And now she was no one’s, so it was another fire to be put out. But it wasn’t her fire. Not right now. Right now, she wanted the clown. 

“But I digress,” she continued, watching the Russian with a quirk of a brow. “I want this woman. Harleen Quinnzel aka Harley Quinn. She’s often found at the Joker’s side, and she has never been detained for more than a few weeks before her boyfriend busts her out. She’s fearless, and she’s completely insane.” Crossing her arms, she watched Belova. “Bring her to me, and we won’t have any problems.”

\

As the woman brought up Natasha, Yelena’s jaw tightened as she looked back at the other. “Natalia is a traitor and she will betray you in given time.” Just like she had her but she decided to omit that part of the history lesson. Still, she hated being bested by the redhead. “Natalia likes to run around and play superheroes. Little girls looking up to a killer. I’m not looking to play superheroes.” She told her bluntly with a steely gaze.

Yelena looked over the file before looking back at Amanda before glancing back to the file. “You literally brought me in to capture a psychologist turned bad make-up artist?” She asked shaking her head. “Why not just kill the boyfriend and then kill her? Problem solved.” She personally didn’t understand why she would be wanted by this woman of all people.

Amanda approached the assassin, unintimidated and unfazed by her belligerence. She had killed a number of their men, but they were expendable. Humans would never be more of a prize than a meta. It was coarse way of thinking, but a pragmatic one. “I assure you, Miss Belova, if you cooperate then there will be no need for torture. We are not in the business of wasting talent like yours.”

Her dark eyes moved to one of the handlers nearby, giving a nod. Without a word, they moved forward to drop a file on the table in front of Yelena. Reaching forward, Amanda flipped it open for the Russian Assassin’s perusal. “You’re one of the best in your field,” she remarked in a matter of fact tone. “And you’ve taken down a number of persons of interest, including several within the US Government. By all counts, you are a war criminal.” 

Leaning in, a dark finger tapped on the picture in the corner of the file: a manic, smiling face of a clown well-known to any who had ever stepped foot in Gotham. “Fortunately, I’m sanctioned to work with people of your caliber. If you’re really the best, then this one should be no problem.” Considering, she cocked her head. “You can hear my proposal, or we can hand you over to the nearest high security facility for booking and imprisonment. Choice is yours.”

\

Yelena blew air between her lips with a ‘brrrr’ sound as the other woman walked in and began talking. She was still somewhat young and always had a streak of stubbornness in her. “Why not? Torture sometimes gets a job done, does it not?” She suggested simply. She wasn’t in the business of trading stories. Just stealing them for a client maybe. 

As the other woman continued to talk, Yelena’s eyes followed her. “One of? I’m insulted.” She humored dryly. “You Americans and your spies are like butter in the summer. No grit. All fancy pancy.” She humored under her breath as she relaxed in the seat. Though she seemed slumped in her seat, her eyes never left the other woman as she addressed her as a war criminal. “I prefer spy. Everyone in the black ops field is a war criminal.” She huffed as she sat up straight.

As the woman tapped her finger on a picture, her eyes glanced at the picture. “A little early for Halloween isn’t it?” She asked, her eyes glancing back the the other woman. They took every made-up holiday so seriously it was ridiculous. “Well, get on with it then.” She huffed flapping her wrists for a moment. 

File: Yelena Belova

@palexwidow·

The team was coming together, but Amanda would never turn down the opportunity for more help, particularly when the Avengers had become more and more of a problem for the US Government. Yelena Belova was specially trained to face down at least one of them, but Amanda was willing to bet that those skills were transferrable to many people. 

So when she had the former soviet spy brought in, she was unafraid but hoping that Belova would be a worthy investment. “Miss Belova, isn’t it?”

Yelena was not one to go down easy. A high profile kill was enough to bring unwanted attention her way and she covered all of her tracks. Almost. So when she was brought in, she had already dropped enough bodies to ensure that they lost some good people that day but she wouldn’t go down without a fight. However, she was cornered. Outnumbered and she had failed.

Hearing the voice, Yelena stared back at the woman. “If you are going to torture me, get it over with.” She said with a small roll of her eyes. “I can promise you I have felt worse.” She sighed as she looked down. “This is going to be a lame way to die.” She muttered under her breath.

…

She studied him just like he was studying her, assessing his threat level, gauging if he was going to pull the trigger. Something else that pointed to how well trained she was and the training seemed…familiar. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions but he was really starting to wonder about her. Bucky snorted at her question. “The world’s under siege by alien forces. Anyone who walks around unarmed is an idiot.” Then again, he was more armed than most but she couldn’t know that just by looking at him. “I’m not gonna answer any more of your questions until you start answering mine. You were the one following me, remember?” 

Bucky saw her noticing his metal fingers, the way her eyes widened. It spooked her a little, obviously, and he waited for it to be familiar, to confirm his suspicions. Then again, he used to have a different, shinier arm but he still figured he was the only well known assassin with a mechanical arm around. “Yeah, and getting followed and having a gun pointed at me makes me wary.” He snapped back, clearly losing patience with this whole back and forth and the stand off. A part of him whispered that he should shoot her and be done with it but he ignored that. She asked what he was and his lips curled into a bitter smile. “Good question. Been trying to figure it out for a while. HYDRA had one answer but I didn’t like theirs.” Well, there. Maybe she’d react to that. He needed to move this forward somehow. So much for trying to calm down somewhere semi familiar. 

\

Yelena licked her lips briefly, her index finger almost twitching as she looked back at Bucky. Her eyes didn’t waver. If anything, it was looking for the slightest excuse to pull the trigger and live to see the next day. A widow was to survive any threat thrown at her, no matter the danger. A widow who failed was a widow who did not live. That was what she knew. It was ingrained in her very being. “I find people to be more dangerous than aliens.” She stated sharply. “Only an idiot wouldn’t arm themselves if they are under threat. You are a threat.” She said, twisting his earlier words.

As he mentioned Hydra, Yelena’s other hand clutched the plushie behind her back. “You are not with them?” She asked him. She was good at reading liars but she had heard the stories of the killer with the metal arm. She didn’t even think it was that true. That it was some sort of horror story people used to those in the black ops business but she supposed the Boogey man was real. “You aren’t with the Red Room?”