Will and Yelena {warning: the usual red room triggers}
Yelena was delighted by the simple beauty of the homemade lure. She examined the feathered lure before it was placed onto Will's fishing pole. She didn't touch it, merely pressing her fingertips lightly against the back of Will's hand, to bring it closer to her face. As if worried disturbing it would somehow ruin it. It was silly, of course. It wasn't like they were hunting rabbits or deer, where the scent of the hunter could tip off the prey.
"I will have to make my own sometime," said Yelena, returning to focus on her own pole. With dainty fingers, she carefully wrapped a slippery squirming tubular critter onto the hook, concentrating on doing so without accidentally pricking her finger. "I will try with a worm this first time. I am not used to fishing this way."
What Yelena was used to was not fishing, period. At least not for fish. When she was much younger, Yelena had been been perfectly angelic and unassuming in appearance. It was what led her to becoming the greatest child assassin the world has ever known, as Alexei so proudly declared her to be. There was a special kind of deadliness in the perception of innocence.
Then, after she hit puberty—after she blossomed, as Dreykov used to put it—after she 'graduated', she was put to use in other ways. Businessmen, politicians, military officials of foreign nations. It was easy pickings for a fully grown Black Widow. The ultimate honeytrap. No one did sexpionage like the Soviets.