Natasha was starting to get the lay of the land. Pun not intended, but she'd take it. Money was fairly easy to come by if you knew what people wanted and how to give it to them. Natasha was good at that.

In the back of her mind, she'd had one constant train of thought. Keeping an eye out for people she recognized, anyone else who might have ended up here, allies she'd know for a fact she could trust. So when she caught sight of Clint's form behind her, her immediate reaction was an overwhelming relief. "Very cute. Stop screwing ar--"

But the moment she really looked at him, she could tell that something was wrong. The way he held himself, the flecks in his eyes, the shade of his hair, just slightly off. She was on him in a flash, but probably not in a way he wanted. She had her hand around his throat, Widow's Bite humming quietly with the charge she was more than prepared to unload directly into his jaw. "Who are you? Where's Barton?"