The first one was a blonde. She had the washed out features of a natural blonde, that pale, pale skin and brows, and light blue eyes (empty, empty eyes) - the combination made her look insubstantial and wraith like. He half expected her to dissolve into a nothingness when his arrow pierced her heart.

The bright red flower that bloomed over her very real chest through her very real clothes was a dramatic contrast, but he couldn't help but think that red really wasn't her color.

*****

The second was a brunette. Her hair was ruthlessly short, polished, and a brown that was just this side of black. Her features were sharp and edgy - her look was more dramatic than pretty. When he finally got a look at her without sunglasses on he saw that her eyes matched her hair perfectly, and it was a very disturbing effect because they seemed too deep to be so empty.

Just like the blonde, they were empty, although when he'd seen her at the cocktail party the night before she'd had someone else's life in them.

His arrow slid neatly through her throat and the only sound was the soft brush of her body sliding down the stone wall to lie puddled in the rain. Her clothes were black and the street was black and he couldn't see the blood for the shadows.

*****

When Coulson gave him the file, he was amused by the idea of a matched set. The single blurry satellite photo showed a three-quarter view from the back but did a good job of highlighting her deep red hair. He was confident (Phil would say "cocky") and looking forward to the mission. They were a challege, these girls - far more fun than most of the targets he was supposed to hunt down.

He spent the plane ride to Venice trying to guess what her eye color would be - his favorite changed by the hour, and by the time they touched down he was hoping for green, just for the contrast.

He expected that whatever color, they would have the same dead look to them all the others had. In a more fanciful moment brought about by too little sleep on a stakeout in Dubai he'd wondered if he was bringing their bodies in line with their minds. After all, by the time he shot them they'd been dead for years.

*****

She's standing over three bodies in a chapel as he lines her up in the crosshairs. He's trying to decide between the throat or the heart when she looks up, straight at where he's perched across the street and through a broken window. She looks directly at him and it feels like she's actually seeing him through the sight. It's diconcerting as fuck and her eyes are green.

But they're not dead.

GAWD. I adore this. I adore the darkness. Wow. Yes. Love.

:D Thanks!

Ohhhhhh, that was dark and creepy and I really love the build-up to the last line.

<33

<3 <3 <3 Thank you! :D

Oooh, this is cool! Really evocative imagery. But the rhythm of your writing here is also really lovely. I really like all of it, but this: Her clothes were black and the street was black and he couldn't see the blood for the shadows. is such a musical sentence. V cool!

Hooray! I'm very glad you liked it! And thank you for the lovely compliments - I have a weak spot for lyrical prose (though I'm not a huge poetry fan) so I try to write that way (particularly in drabbles) - I'm glad to hear it worked in this. :D

Ooooh, this is a little bit dark and a lot excellent. Love the comparisons between the three of them, and of course the final contrast of Natasha being very much alive, and red definitely being her colour. Beautiful writing; very nice!

Thank you!

Yup, she was... not supposed to still be whole. It seriously, seriously messed with him. :)

I'm glad you liked it!

Yup, she was... not supposed to still be whole. It seriously, seriously messed with him

Butting in to say that I LOVE this idea. Right in the feels, y'all.

:D Yay!!!

I spent waaaaaaaaaayyyy too much time trying to puzzle out why he would spare her. But I always keep coming back to some variation on this idea, that there's something *more* in her than the other targets he's been sent to take out.

Agreed.

That, and he has a total and unprecedented MINE moment that scares the ever-living hell out of him. Sorry, did I say that out loud? It's probably just the Cronenburgs talking.... ;P

Edited 2012-08-04 09:59 pm (UTC)

**cackles wildly**


Oh the meta one could write...

**giggles maniacally**

oh, yes please. I might be growing more addicted to meta than fic, even.

For reals.

i love your portrayal of the ruthless organised killer that clint is. there's a coldness that comes with the job and it feels like fandom tends to wash over that aspect of him in fic to place it squarely on natalia's shoulders. great characterisation here.

YES! THIS THIS THIS!!!

I see him as being juuuuuuuuust this side of sociopathic. Just, just. In my headcanon that's why SHIELD picked him up, because the idea of a psychologically stable (for certain values therein) killer was too good to pass up. I have so much trouble with him being portrayed as the kind of socially inept dorky one (I have similar problems with Thor being played as "dumb") - while there are crack type fics where those work just fine, in general? Nope. A sarcastic smart ass sometimes, sure. But he's an assassin. ;)

I'm glad you liked it!