Yelena thought she was just as good as Natasha if you asked her, but no one usually did ask her. It was easy to be better than someone when the other person was dead.
"It's been used to describe me a time or two." Her hands were up now in a ready guard stance. She didn't even care if she went to jail, but she had every confidence that she'd be able to evade the local PD. American police were generally terrible at doing their actual job. That she was stuck under a Dome hadn't really entirely sunk into her and part of it didn't believe it until she tested the limits of the town anyway.
She throw a few more punches and kicks, annoyed that he seemed to know her fighting moves. Yelena took it as further proof that this was the man who had killed Natasha.
"She was supposed to be a friend of yours, but she clearly meant nothing to you." There was more bite in her words, the sort of bite that came from anger and a profound sense of loss. It wasn't professional at all, but Yelena didn't care. Barton was the one who made her feel this pain and she was going to make him feel like she felt on the inside.