Avengers

The Hidden Courtyard

Chapter 1

Morning always brought with it the promise of a new day. Sun glistening off the ocean, a warm breezed caressing the waves in the same way a woman ruffles her man's hair on a lazy afternoon. Softly, gently and with great affection.

Clouds, puffy white cotton balls, flitted across a sky in random patterns. This one looked like a giant cartoon mouse, that one a chocolate bar, and a third was unmistakably Albert Einstein smoking a hookah.

The beauty, however, was lost on the woman dressed in gym clothes sitting beside a sandy-haired man in baggy shorts and sneakers with his shirt off, their workout done for the day. The man, Clint Barton AKA Hawkeye, drank from a water bottle while his partner, Natasha Romanoff AKA the Black Widow, ignored her own beside her on the conning tower.

She was also ignoring the question Clint asked. Or trying to, even knowing that he wouldn't let it go, hounding her until he had an answer that satisfied him.

"Well?" He used the T-shirt to wipe perspiration from his face and chest, sniffed it, made a face, and dropped it beside him. Hoping he would get bored and go away, Natasha turned sideways, showing him her back in a display of disdain. No such luck. "Na-at?"

Feigning forgetfulness, she asked "What was the question again?"

"Have you ever been in love?" It really annoyed Natasha when Clint used that falsely patient tone.

"Why do you want to know?" She was stalling and he knew it. And she knew he knew it, but they played the game anyway.

One shoulder lifted and dropped as he took another long swig of water. "Curious."

Clint was happily hooked-up with a pilot he met while they were both recuperating in the medical bay after Loki and the Chitauri invasion over Manhattan and wanted his best friend to be happily hooked up as well. Not fooled by the offhand comment, she let her thoughts drift back through the years like a fast moving train, screeching to a halt at early summer the year she turned fifteen. Or rather the year she'd been told she was fifteen. Her life was filled with so many lies that she didn't know what was true and what had been made up by Dr. Petrovitch and his staff or her own mind to explain incongruities. Such as why her birth certificate said she was twenty-nine when she clearly remembered a time prior to that.

Natasha remembered that summer as if she were living it now. Unlike some of her memories, clouded as they were by the intense physical and mental "training" she'd received on Petrovitch's orders, this was clear and sharply detailed, almost too much so.

Stalingrad

Many Years Ago

Glancing over her shoulder to make certain she hadn't been followed Natalia crept through the forest behind the dormitory. Stumps, fallen logs and tangled underbrush were non-existent to one with her speed and agility. Eventually, she reached a rusted iron gate set into a stone fence that could barely be seen through the overgrowth of weeds and vines. It sat adjacent to the ruins of a once noble castle that had crumbled in on itself filling in the dungeon and leaving little of its former glory above ground. Just a few walls and this courtyard remained. Hidden from sight unless you knew where and how to look.

She'd seen this place for the first time several weeks ago after being told by the doctors she would never be able to bear children. Uncertain of her feelings, she'd gone for a long hike, literally stumbling upon the ruins.

It had become a haven, a sanctuary from the rest of the world. It had taken weeks to clear the weeds and vines growing there. Her labor brought unintended results. Benches appeared, placed far enough apart that one could have privacy even if others were present. Statues with their features worn down over time looked at nothing. From the placement of the stone paths, there had once been a maze of hedges in the center and fountains that long ago stopped spouting water.

Here, she could be anyone or anything imaginable. An opera singer, a famous actress being wined and dined by the elite of Russian society, a rocket scientist or even a doctor discovering a cure for cancer or diabetes, a psychologist curing bi-polar disease.

Today, she was a ballet dancer dressed all in white with splashes of purple adorning the bodice and the drop waist of her frilly tutu as she performed The Sleeping Beauty. As Princess Aurora, Natalia pirouetted, leaped and frolicked around the courtyard, her movements lithe, flowing easily from one step to the next showing off the grace and elegance that was an essential part of her. The stone statue on a raised dais in the center played the part of Prince Désiré.

Act I ended with the princess being carried off to bed, a stone bench taking the place of the royal bedchamber. Natalia lay down, her head pillowed on her arms and eyes closed. It was so quiet and peaceful here in her hidden courtyard that she'd nearly drifted off to sleep when the sound of clapping startled her. She sat up, turning her head looking for the source.

"Krasivyy!" The voice was male, belonging to a young man no more than seventeen with unruly dark hair and even darker eyes. His clothing was well worn but clean, his hands calloused and stained from the hard labor he performed on a daily basis. He smiled, a single held flower in his right hand. With a bow, he presented it to her, "I am humbled in your presence, m'lady."

She accepted the flower as her due and curtsied, extending one delicate hand. "You're too kind, sir. May I know your name?"

Grasping her fingers, he lifted her hand to brush his lips over the knuckles while keeping his eyes on her. "Alas, I cannot say."

"Why is that?" she asked coyly, opening an imaginary fan and fluttering it under her chin. His hand was rough and warm, the heat traveling up her arm, making her want to snatch it away. She was never nervous or shy, yet his gaze, steady and unblinking, inexplicably made her both.

"For you are the exquisite Carlotta Brianza and I a lowly petitioner," he bowed low, "at your service, and my name is not worthy to be spoken by one such as yourself."

"What if I were not Carlotta, but Natalia, a humble student?"

He released her hand, reluctantly it seemed, both going behind him in the accepted attitude of respect taught to all children from a young age. "If that be the case, then my name is Anton and I remain," he bowed again, just his head this time, "at your service."

Scooting to one end of the bench so Anton could join her, Natalia reached over and drew out the backpack. From it, she took a plastic bag containing two cookies, offering one to her guest. And that's how she thought of him. This was her place, not his, and she would make certain he understood.

He accepted her offering with a smile, biting off a piece and chewing slowly, savoring the taste.

"Do you live around here, Anton?"

"Not far. My father owns the butcher shop in town, and though he would have me follow in his footsteps, Mother has decided that she wants more for her only child. In the fall, I will be attending the university at Kursk as a medical student."

Impressed and not wanting to show it, Natalia brushed crumbs from her hands and the front of her pants. "What specialty will you be studying?"

"Oncology, I think. Or family medicine. Haven't decided. What about you?"

"I'm a student at an all-girl boarding school." Natalia smiled. "Would you like to see something?"

He accepted her change of subject without question, standing when she did. "Of course."

Before, when he'd first approached, she'd been sitting. Now that they were side by side she could see that he was nearly a foot taller, muscular and lean, with skin darkened by the sun.

Ducking her head so he couldn't see her eyes, she led the way to the far end of the courtyard where a fountain crouched in the corner. Beside it, a stone staircase curved up and around far above their heads, the top disappearing into the trees. "In my dreams, they're a golden stairway to the stars." Spreading her arms out to the side, she spun in a circle. "There, gravity is something for mere mortals. Oxygen is unnecessary and I fly with the angels on wings of the purest white."

Anton chuckled. "Have you climbed them?"

"No." Her smile faded. "If I did, then I would be forced to deal with the reality that they end abruptly with a long drop to the ground."

"And one should never allow reality to get in the way of dreams." It was said with an impertinent lift of one eyebrow.

"Exactly." Natalia looked down at her feet then up into his eyes, this time meeting them boldly. "Will you be coming back?"

"Depends. Will the fair Carlotta be performing again?"

Her smile came back. "I think she might be persuaded, for the right price of course."

Crossing his arms, Anton gave it careful thought. "What if I were to present her with my mother's kolachkis."

"In that case, she'll be here in three days at this same time." And before he could say another word, Natalia jogged toward the gate, grabbing her backpack on the way out.

~~O~~

Crouched in the corner beside the heavy wooden cabinet, Natalia waited for Liska and her helper to leave. Each day, they took two one-hour breaks, one in the morning and another after lunch.

The slamming of the door announced to Natalia that the kitchen was now empty. Tiptoeing to the refrigerator, she took out a bottle of milk that was less than half full and retrieved two glasses from the cabinet, stashing it all inside her backpack which she shrugged into as she went out the back door.

She raced through the forest, stopping fifty yards from the courtyard to catch her breath and smooth a hand through her shoulder length hair to remove any twigs or brambles. Putting on a smile, she walked the rest of the way at a leisurely pace, just a young woman out for a stroll. The gate stood open, but only because Anton blocked it from closing. With a sweep of his hand, he ushered her inside. "Hi."

"Have you been waiting long?"

"Just arrived. My father kept finding more and more chores for me to do until I told him I had an appointment."

A small paper bag lay on the bench. Good. He hadn't forgotten. Taking a seat, she held the backpack in her lap. "Did you say with whom?"

"He was too busy with customers to ask and as I'll be eighteen in a few months, I don't feel obliged to share my plans with him." Opening the bag, he took out two napkins and four cookies while she poured the milk.

She took a bite of the kolachki, chewed and swallowed. "Tell me about university. Will you be living on the campus?"

A small animal scurried across the path in front of them. Anton watched it go then returned his gaze to Natalia. "My mother's younger sister lives nearby. I'll stay with her and come home on holidays. Much like what you do."

"I live at the school year round."

"Why is that?"

Her smile turned sad. "I don't have a family. Just the other girls and the staff."

He was quiet for a moment, thinking he'd insulted her. "I'm sorry."

Shrugging, she finished off the last of her milk, wiped away the drops clinging to her lips and wadded the paper napkin into a ball. "Don't be. I have very few memories of my parents. All I know is that they died in a house fire when I was a child."

They sank into a companionable silence, both lost in thought, until he startled her when he spoke, but only because she'd forgotten he was there.

"What books do you like to read?"

"Our schedules are very regimented leaving little time for hobbies like reading for pleasure." That was a lie, but one she felt she could get away with.

One corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. "Life is too short to studying all the time. One must also have fun." He said it with authority, daring her to disagree. "After seeing you dance, I find it hard to believe that you don't know how to enjoy yourself."

It took all her will power not to blush. "I come here to be alone. To think."

"To dance? And I intruded on your solitude. You should've said something."

"I don't mind sharing." Deciding that the conversation was getting too personal, she returned to the subject of hobbies. "What are your other hobbies? Aside from accosting young women."

Natalia said it with a slight upturn of her lips to show that she was teasing. They spent hours discussing whatever subject occurred to them or just sitting quietly, letting the world turn, and when the sky darkened, they parted, going in opposite directions.

~~O~~

Weeks went by, summer's end approached and with it the reality that Anton would soon be leaving for university. As close as they'd become, Natalia wasn't certain how she felt about that, but didn't spend an inordinate amount of time pondering it either. She and the other girls at the facility weren't encouraged to display extreme emotions such as joy, fear, anguish, delight, hate…or love.

Ignoring the facts of a situation wouldn't make them any less so. Today, she would ask Anton to write her while away. His answer would tell her all she needed to know about his feelings toward her, and maybe that would help sort out her emotions as well.

At first she didn't see him as she stepped into the courtyard. Their courtyard, she corrected in her mind. Over the time they'd spent together, this had become their place whether they were together or apart. Their spirits dwelt here even when they were absent.

Then, he stepped from behind a bush bursting with an abundance of fragrant green leaves, both hands out of sight behind his back. As she neared, his smile grew, as did hers. His right hand revealed that it held a bouquet of the purple flowers. "It's good to see you, Natalia."

"And you Anton. I forgot the cookies."

"You're forgiven." He extended his other hand, taking hers and drawing her toward the center of the courtyard where he'd spread a blanket. A wicker basket sat on one end. Handing her the flowers, he invited her to sit, taking a seat across from her and opening the basket. "I thought we might have a picnic today. Nothing elaborate. Just sandwiches, fruit and tea."

"Sounds wonderful. I didn't have lunch today." What Natalia didn't tell Anton was the reason for not having eaten. She'd performed poorly on one of her physical assessments, and Dr. Petrovitch had forbidden Liska to feed her. It hadn't been the first time. Since meeting this charming young man, her studies seemed less and less important. A situation that did not set well with her mentor-his word, not hers.

When their meal was over, Natalia leaned back on her hands, eyes closed and her face turned upward to catch the sun. Anton moved next to her, and when she looked, he was on his back watching the clouds drift across the blue sky. Feeling greatly daring, she lay down as well leaving barely two inches between them.

The sun and a full stomach conspired to make her sleepy. She covered the yawn as best she could, but Anton still saw it. He slipped his arm under her neck, urging her to lay her head on his shoulder. It didn't take much coaxing as she'd wanted to be close to him for a while now, but hadn't dared.

He brushed the hair from her forehead and planted a kiss there. "I missed you these last two weeks."

"I missed you too." He didn't ask and she didn't volunteer that she'd been "on vacation" for two weeks because she had been out of the country on her first solo assignment as an assassin. The beginning had been a round of briefings on the operation and just four days ago, she made her first kill. Though she'd been trained from the age of seven for just this purpose, it hadn't been as easy to pull the trigger on a live target as it had at practice. "When are you leaving for university?"

"Not for several weeks yet. Why?"

"Would you…would you write to me while you're gone?" Natalia's hand rested on his chest, the vibrations of his laughter traveling up her arm giving her a warm and hazy feeling all across her upper body.

"Not a very good saleswoman, are you?"

Rising up on her elbow, she looked down at him with a frown. "Excuse me?"

Mirroring her position, he smiled, his dark eyes roaming over her face, seeming to see into the very depths of her. That wasn't possible because if he did, he would know the kind of person she really was and wouldn't want anything to do with her.

"Try saying it again, but without the question."

Relieved, she smiled and shook her head at the silliness of the conversation. She was never shy or tentative with anyone except him. "You will write to me while you're gone."

"There. Was that so hard? I will, but only if you promise to write back."

"Of course." Again, Anton's eyes darted over her features, stopping on her eyes. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned toward her as she leaned toward him. There was a breathless moment of anticipation then their lips touched for the first time. Older than her by three years, he'd likely done this before, but it was her first time kissing someone who was not a "mark." She'd learned to mimic enjoyment when the man invaded her mouth with his tongue all slippery with saliva and tasting of cigars and alcohol. But with Anton, there was no demands, no intrusion. Just the feel of his warm mouth on hers along with the taste of the sweet tea.

He pulled back and smiled, and she echoed it. Then, he lay down again, and she resumed her place against his side with her head on his shoulder.

The warmth of the sun and the chirruping of crickets lulled them both to sleep, and when they awoke, the sun had nearly slipped below the horizon. At the gate, Anton drew her into his arms and kissed her again before letting go. She ran back to the dormitory as fast as she could. Still, she was too late for the evening meal and had to go without dinner. But she didn't care. The meal shared with Anton was enough to keep her going until breakfast.

It was almost a week before Natalia could get away again to visit the hidden courtyard and Anton. This time she brought a surprise. His comment about taking time to have fun had hit home, sending her to the library where she checked out a book that Dr. Petrovitch would never have approved of: Jane Eyre.

The courtyard was empty when she arrived. Taking a seat, she pulled out the book and opened it to the first page. She'd only read to the midway point when Anton came in, the creak of the iron gate loud to her ears. Her pulse quickened when they saw each other. Setting the book aside, she rushed into his arms, her head against his chest where she could hear the steady thump-thump of his heart. He laid his cheek momentarily on top of her head and when she looked up at him, he smiled and dropped a lingering kiss on her mouth.

Taking his hand, she led him to their bench, the place where they would sit together and talk or just sit and be still. "I've decided my life needs more fun in it."

"Oh? And what brought you to that conclusion?"

Smiling, she poked him in the chest. "A friend pointed it out recently and I realized he was right. So…" opening the book, she turned to the first page, "…I'm going to read to you."

Swinging his legs over the armrest, he laid his head in her lap. "Proceed."

Clearing her throat, Natalia held the book with one hand while the other hovered uncertainly until Anton placed it on his chest.

"There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had been wandering, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning; but since dinner (Mrs. Reed, when there was no company, dined early) the cold winter wind had brought with it clouds so somber, and a rain so penetrating, that further out-door exercise was now out of the question.I was glad of it: I never liked long walks, especially on chilly afternoons: dreadful to me was the coming home in the raw twilight, with nipped fingers and toes, and a heart saddened by the chidings of Bessie, the nurse, and humbled by the consciousness of my physical inferiority to Eliza, John, and Georgiana Reed…"

~~O~~

The next time Natalia and Anton met in their hidden courtyard, he read to her, his arm around her shoulders. She with her feet tucked and eyes closed. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't have felt comfortable leaving her defenses down, but Anton made her feel things she'd never experienced before. With him, she would be safe. With him, she felt a sense of security that had been lacking in her life until now.

The sound of the hard cover of the book snapping shut jolted her from the light doze she'd settle into. "Oh! Sorry. Didn't mean to fall asleep."

One side of his mouth grinned in that charming way he had showing off the small indention in his cheek. "It was fine until you started to snore."

Outraged, she sat up on her knees beside him, red hair flying. "I do not snore!"

"Either that or someone came through here with a chainsaw a few minutes ago. Ow!" She punched him in the arm, holding back most of her power so she wouldn't actually hurt him, but still he mock cowered from her blows.

Then, suddenly, he took hold of her wrists, pulling her inexorably in his direction, and because she wanted to be close to him, she let it happen. He laid her across his lap, wrapped her in his arms and kissed her. Behind the gentleness, she could feel that he wanted more, much more. And right then, she would've given him anything he wanted.

Eventually, he released her. Getting to his feet, he looked at the ground. "I, uh, I should get back before my father sends out a search party."

"O-of course. Three days?" It was the same every time they parted. She would say, "Three days?"

And his reply would always be, "Yes, but it will feel like forever." But this time it was different. He performed the ritual perfectly, then took it to another level by adding, "I love you, Natalia."

~~O~~

The morning of the day she would see Anton again finally showed its face over the horizon. She liked this feeling of expectancy and eagerness, wondering if this was what love, real love felt like. The last lines of a sonnet danced inside her head every time she thought about Anton.

For one is both and both are one in love:

Rich love knows nought of 'thine that is not mine;'

Both have the strength and both the length thereof,

Both of us, of the love which makes us one.

Out on the obstacle course, Natalia ran, jumped, swung and climbed like she hadn't in weeks, faster and with greater precision, crossing the finish line to the click of the stopwatch certain this would be her best time.

Instead of his usual place in a chair under the large poplar tree, Dr. Petrovitch stood beside the coach, the two of them talking quietly. Petrovitch turned, pinning her with his gaze. Then one hand came up and motioned for her to follow him. He led her away from the main buildings toward the garden where Liska grew herbs and vegetables. Her husband was sent on his way with a sharp gesture from Petrovitch.

"I've heard rumors, Natalia. Unsettling stories about you and a boy from town."

Natalia's breath caught in her throat. How could he know? She hadn't told a soul. And Anton wouldn't kiss her so passionately then brag to his friends.

"You're not to see him again. Is that understood?" Petrovitch tilted his head forward, watching her over the tops of his glasses, his eyes piercing.

Since being here, she'd done everything that had been demanded of her without question or complaint. And now that she'd carved a small slice of heaven away from the rigorous training and preparation for the duty that would become her life, he wanted to take it away. "Why?"

"Because I command it. That's why."

His voice had taken on a hard edge Natalia had seldom heard, and those times that she had, she'd cringed in fear. But no more. This was her life. Not his. She would be the one to say when and where and with whom. No one else. Old habits die hard, and she found herself standing with her back erect, hands clasped behind her back and chin held high. "No! He loves me, and I love him."

"Love is for children. And you are not a child."

"Love is for everyone. Anton and I are meant to be together. We will be together. Always."

To her surprise, Petrovitch laughed. Not how one did when something was genuinely funny. But harshly. A sound meant to wound, and it did. "You actually believe you have a choice."

"I do. I am Natalia Romanova, and I won't be bullied by you or anyone else ever again."

Turning on her heel, Natalia had only gone a few steps when he said, "Are you sure of that? Are you absolutely certain that your name is Natalia Romanova? Perhaps it's Tatiana Kozlov. Maybe Brigitte Vénard or Molly McKinney?"

Recognizing the aliases she'd used during her last three missions, she faced him, wanting to knock the gloating, smug grin from his face. Her chin came up again. "Natalia is the name my parents gave me. I remember my mother saying…"

"You remember what I wish for you to remember. Nothing more, nothing less." He advanced on her, the mocking grin gone, replaced by silent fury. "You are what I made you to be, and I can unmake you just as easily. If you defy me, his body will be found in the forest by hunters, most of his flesh having been eaten by wolves. He will live, but only if you do as you're told today, tomorrow and in the future." His vice was brutal, cruel, punishing.

Petrovitch stalked away leaving her standing beside the rows of basil, rosemary and thyme. She had no doubt that he would do as he threatened. So, to save Anton's life, she must break his heart…and her own.

She arrived in the courtyard at the usual time, glad that Anton wasn't there yet. Waiting for him would give her time to think about what to say. It was best to just get it over with. Say the words and leave, but the moment she saw him, they stuck in her throat. Instead of sending him away, she ran toward him, throwing herself into his arms and holding on tight. Stepping out of his arms, she kept hold of his hand. "Come with me."

"Where?"

"I'm ready to take the stairway to the stars, and want you with me."

Together they walked to the far end of the courtyard, pausing at the bottom of the steps before starting the climb. The stairs went much higher than Natalia had imagined, curving around and around until she could no longer see the courtyard, coming to an abrupt stop against the trunk of a tree that had grown on the soil scattered by the wind. Turning, they looked out over the forest and just for a moment, Natalia imagined that it was their wedding day. They would pledge their life and love to each other then seal it with a kiss.

As if he'd been reading her mind again, Anton tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on the side of her neck as he bent down to kiss her. Because it was for the last time, she savored it. Savored him. His taste, his touch, and the unique scent that surrounded him.

At the bottom of the staircase, he paused to consider the statues that had once been a part of the fountain. To break the silence, Natalia said, "I've spent many hours wondering what the artist was thinking to have left them faceless."

Anton shrugged, the material of his shirt rough where it touched her bicep. "Perhaps it was to force us to use our minds, to create our own ideas of what they should look like instead of having someone else's notions imposed."

"I hadn't thought of it that way." Tilting her head to the side, she reconsidered the stone carvings. In her mind's eye, the statues blurred, their features changing…until they became her face. And for one of the few times in her life, she felt fear. Fear that she was as faceless as the statues, without an identity of her own, just as Petrovitch said she was. Dropping Anton's hand, she turned her back on him as the sounds of the forest gave way to ringing in her ears.

Then, she began to run, blindly, swerving around the obstacles in her path by instinct. As if from a great distance, she heard her name being called, but she ignored it and kept running.

From the courtyard and its faceless statues.

From Anton, who saw things no one should.

But no matter how fast she moved, the one thing she couldn't outrun was herself.

Present Day

Natasha swept up the water bottle, took a long drink, carefully replaced the top and held it in her hand. "Love is for children."

Getting to her feet, she ignored Clint calling her name, clambered down the ladder to the catwalk then from there she took the stairs to the lift. In her room, she stripped off her sweaty clothes, showered then returned to change into khakis, hiking boots, a blue top made of wicking fabric and a light jacket. She shoved clothes into a duffle bag, settled it on her shoulder and headed for the deck. On the way, she told Hill to take her off the books for at least the next week.

Hours later, she climbed from the quinjet onto the tarmac of the Volgograd Airport and entered the terminal. There, she rented a four-wheel drive vehicle, aiming it in the direction of the north end of town. When she reached her destination, she found the buildings still as they were the last time she saw them though now they were barely recognizable under the weeds and vines. At the time she left the 2R facility, she'd set a fire that burned the buildings to the ground. Somewhere in the ashes lay the bones of Ivan Petrovitch. The fire hadn't been set to cover up that she'd killed him, but to destroy the facility.

But that wasn't why she was here.

Parking around the side where the dormitory used to be, she set the brake and climbed out, ignoring the sense of nostalgia that swept over her. From the front seat she took a small backpack that contained a thermos and a plastic wrapped package.

Natasha hadn't been here since she was a teen, yet she still remembered the way to the hidden courtyard. Stopping a few yards from the gate, she reflected that it hadn't really changed that much.

She stepped inside expecting to see the hidden courtyard filled with weeds, vines, small animals and even a few trees. But such was not the case. The courtyard had been meticulously maintained over the years, still retaining the former charm. If she squinted with her mind, she could see the ghosts of the former residents still haunting the ruins.

Going to the bench, the one she still saw as hers and Anton's, Natasha took out a small package of cookies, Oreos, of course. Next, she poured milk into a cup and sat there munching and sipping until they were gone.

Brushing the crumbs from her hands, she stood. Closing her eyes, she swayed side to side, listening to music only she could hear. She allowed her subconscious to take over, and as on that fateful day, she danced, ending with a graceful bow for her adoring audience, startled when someone clapped.

"Krasivyy!"

The voice was male and very familiar, yet instinct led her to reach for one of the many weapons hidden beneath her clothes. When he stepped into the sunlight, the air surrounding her became thick and heavy, almost choking her. She forced her lungs to do their work, and the lightheadedness faded away.

Standing before her as if the intervening years hadn't happened was a man with unruly dark hair, shorter now with a hint of gray at the temples. His eyes were just as dark and all-seeing as before, with gentle lines at the corners and around his mouth indicating that he smiled. A lot.

And as he'd done that first day, he bowed. "I am humbled in your presence, m'lady Carlotta." Bringing himself upright again, he smiled and his cheeks dimpled. "It's good to see you again, Natalia."

The replay of their first meeting over, Natasha took a step in his direction and another, stopping close enough to touch him if she wanted to. Close enough to feel the warmth from his body and inhale his scent. She did so, exhaling slowly, not realizing that she'd closed her eyes until she opened them again. "It's good to see you too, Anton."

TBC