The mafia house's ballroom was more elegant then you would expect, for a bunch of murdering mob bosses. The room was filled with gold accents and expensive artwork.

If one didn't know that the owner of this house had killed seventy five people in one pass, they might think it was quite nice.

Unfortunately, the glamour was ruined for Dahlia Anelace because she was very aware of this fact.

She stopped in front of any portrait she passed, looking like she was invested in the art, when really she was invested in the information she was receiving.

Don't get her wrong, she loved art in all its' forms, but she also loved incriminating evidence that could send a serial murderer behind bars for years.

The painting was really really gorgeous, though.

"The package is in place." A tall, slender man behind her said into what seemed to be a radio.

It had wonderfully placed brushstrokes.

"Set to go off in ten."

A very beautiful color palette.

"Hey, boss. There's a lady at my six, been hanging around a little too long."

Gorgeous depiction.

"Should I engage?"

Very expressive, almost like the artist was speaking directly to her.

"Roger that. Should be easy enough to take care of."

Dark and light themes, nicely balanced.

Without turning around, Dahlia grabbed the man's wrist, which was in midair, ready to hit her, and twisted. The man yet out a sharp yelp, and she used his distraction to launch herself into the air, swiping her heel-clad foot across his face. As he held the sharp cuts on his cheek and tried to catch his breath, Dahlia pulled her gun out from her thigh holster, holding it up as a warning.

"Now, now, don't you know never to disrupt a lady when she's observing her art?" Dahlia smiled sweetly at him.

The man shook in his annoyingly clean black dress shoes, holding his hands behind his head.

As he put his hands behind his head, he reached back to his gun holster, thinking that Dahlia wouldn't notice and also wouldn't have the guts to fire.

He was wrong on both accounts.

She lowered her gun, but not in defeat, but to aim at his thigh, leaving him alive but useless to his superiors.

"Thanks for the company, darling." Dahlia winked at the man who was writhing in pain.

She performed a mock-curtsy before exiting to the heart of the party.

Dahlia looked like she belonged there, with her golden dress shimmering in the light, her dark chocolate hair curling down her back. Everyone at the party needed only to look at her to accept that she belonged.

She slipped through the crowd, undetected and under no suspicion, and zeroed in to her target.

Alexander Brooklyn was the mafia bosses son, and was known to have quite the blabbermouth. Her mission was to identify him, introduce herself under her pseudonym, and do whatever it takes to make him talk.

It was quite the unsavory task, usually Dahlia preferred ones where all it took was a few punches and a few bullets and she was all set.

However, she'd never turn down a mission.

Especially one where she got to wear a pretty dress.

What? She could be a trained assassin and still like dressing up, it was allowed.

Alexander Brooklyn had spotted her from across the room about ten minutes ago, and she was very aware of this.

She decided to make her rounds with Alexander watching her, stopping to chat with a few of the mob bosses wives, forcing herself to laugh at the ridiculously sexist jokes they made.

After a few rounds of chatter, she finally made her way over to Alexander, sure he trusted her after watching her for a while.

He licked his lips as he watched her approach, meaning to be flirty but Dahlia had to hold herself back from cringing visibly.

"Hiya there," She played with a piece of her hair, putting on the act that came to every other girl in the room naturally. "You're Alex, right?"

Dahlia batted her eyelashes and gave him her best innocent eyes, and he instantly fell for it.

He puffed out his chest, clearly wanting to appear stronger. "Yep, that's me."

"I shoulda known," Her voice dripped with sweetness. "My father talks about you a lot."

"Who is your father, again?" Alex pretended that he knew who she was talking about, a play that made him fall right into her hands.

"Marco Pezzeti." Dahlia smiled, watching as his jaw dropped, a sign on familiarity.

"I didn't know he had a daughter, or that his daughter would be so beautiful." Alexander winked at her, and she fake sighed as he did so. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Alicia Pezzeti, nice to meet you."

Marco and Alicia Pezzeti weren't made up for the sake of her story, they were very much real. So real, in fact, that they were laying unconscious on their kitchen floor, as to keep her cover.

"I can't believe I'm even sitting next to you, honestly." She gushed. "I mean, your father is just so... important, and you're so, well, you."

Her giddy display made Alexander's ego soar toward the skies, just as she planned. Their ego was almost always their downfall. It was almost too easy to play them.

"We are very important, you know. My father has just recently made a deal with the head of a very top secret agency to manufacture new weapons." He claimed proudly.

Dahlia leaned her head on her hands, leaning in to make him feel like she was really listening.

"Well, father made me promise not to say anything about the exchange, so I should probably just stop here."

She stuck out her bottom lip a bit and sighed. "Oh, well, okay, I get it if your father doesn't let you. My father doesn't let me do all that much either. That's probably why I'm not as important as others, because he limits me,"

That did it. The idea of being any less than the most important person in the room made Alexander Brooklyn nervous, and he suddenly felt the urge to prove himself to the woman in front of him.

"I suppose it doesn't much matter what I tell you, what would you do with the information, anyways?" He laughed.

"Oh, I wouldn't know the first thing about what to do!" She feigned innocence, succeeding at looking clueless.

"So there's no harm at all, it's party conversation." Alexander smiled over at her, and Dahlia smiled back, though she felt like throwing up in her mouth.

"Father has partnered with an agency called 'Hydra', and they're making advanced weapons for my father's men to use. We'll be unbeatable, Alicia."

Dahlia didn't let her smile fall, but on the inside her heart sunk. If Hydra was involved, this all just got a hell of a lot more complicated.

Alexander's eyes darted away from her's suddenly, and she followed his line of vision, trying to decipher what was happening.

Several large, burly men had entered the ballroom, surveying the crowds, seemingly searching for something.

Something or someone.

Shit. Dahlia thought, internally rolling her eyes.

She had hoped that she could get through this night without an incident, exposing who she really was.

Of course, she was allowed to blow her cover once she got the information required, but she rather liked it when she could manage to avoid doing so.

She sighed and stood up, deciding that she was going to have to fight her way out of here.

Dahlia climbed the railing of the balcony-type place they were sitting, drawing the attention of the guards.

"Aw, you guys missed me, huh?" She smiled and pulled her gun out from her holster, reacting the the line of fire that came soaring at her.

Dahlia flipped off of the rail, landing on her feet on the marble floor.

With a swift kick, she had taken two of the guards off of their feet, leaving them groaning on the floor.

She jumped onto the shoulders of the third guard, wrapping her thighs around his neck and pulling, leaving him unconscious. Natasha had taught her that one.

Dahlia took up residence behind a flipped table, revealing herself in turn to shoot at the last guard standing.

As she aimed for his arm, her focus was taken off of it as a call came through the small comm in her ear.

"Anelace, we need you to come in right now." Tony Stark's snarky voice took up residence in her ears, distracting her from the situation in front of her.

"Right now? It might not be the best time." She grunted as she dodged a bullet.

"It's important, child."

"First of all, I'm twenty four, so you can stop calling me child," Dahlia gritted her teeth as she ran up and threw a punch at the guards face. "Second of all, it's not important enough unless Nat gives me the go ahead. You're all the Avengers, aren't you? I'm sure you can avenge or whatever without me."

Natasha's voice was the next one that she heard. "Sorry, darling, this really is important. Can you get out as soon as you can and then meet us at the compound? This is urgent."

"Gotcha, I'll be home in about ten minutes. Track my motorcycle if you wanna know my ETA, love you." Dahlia reloaded her gun and aimed straight at his stomach.

"Love you too." Nat's words accompanied the gunshot sound.

Dahlia got to her feet and ran towards the door, kicking a few more guards in the crotch as she made her exit.

She spotted her motorcycle, luckily still in the same spot she had left it. Dahlia had gotten purple lightning bolts painted on the sides, and it was the perfect getaway vehicle for situations like these, which seemed to happen often.

Her motorcycle raced down the highway, making its' way to the Avengers compound.

As she pulled up to the place in question, (the location is classified, so don't bother asking) Dahlia could tell that the mission was on the serious side, because no one was hanging around, everyone was getting ready to fight.

Dahlia entered the kitchen, brushing her dress off and slipping her uncomfortable heels off of her feet.

"It's about time you showed up, missy." Tony said sternly.

"What? I'm fashionably late, emphasis on the fashionable part." Dahlia winked at him, making him roll his eyes.

"Good to see you, Anelace," Steve greeted. "I'd recommend getting suited up, I don't think you'll want to fight in that."

Dahlia deadpanned in Steve's direction. "What do you think I was doing this whole time in this dress? I wasn't partying, Gramps."

He flushed red, mumbling his apologies.

"How was the mission?" Clint asked, looking curious.

"Classified." Dahlia smiled. She loved saying that, especially to Avengers.

"What? I'm Hawkeye!"

"And you're also not a Level Ten S.H.I.E.L.D. agent so where does that leave us?" She smirked towards him.

Natasha laughed before becoming serious once more.

"I'll have to hear about your mission later, but for now you really need to get suited up," The look in her eyes sent chills down Dahlia's spine. "It's really important, 'Lia. It's Strücker."

"Well, shit, why didn't you say so?"