"You think I'm playing?" Natasha asked, her whole body on alert and ready to stop him if he tried to get away. "I heard the whole welcome wagon speech - genetic donors, DNA on file. One hell of a coincidence, don't you think? That you just happen to be wearing the face of the one guy I've spent all day looking for?" Which, all right, wasn't strictly true. She'd been looking for anyone familiar, but Clint was number one priority. Always. "Clint Barton. Tell me where he is or I'm going to break your jaw. You fight with me long enough and I guarantee you're going to lose."