The first time she kissed him, it was an act. She was charged with adrenaline, riding on the thrills of running once again. He had been surprised, and so had she, when their lips met to find she wanted more of him. The spy and the soldier. The Widow and The Captain. They were the dynamic duo in everything they undertook, so why did it really bother her to know that the concept of romance between them was closer than she thought?

Was it the thrill of the chase that had her moving forward to take from him? Had it been the idea that, if they were caught in that shopping mall, she might not ever get the chance to?

Natalia didn't know. And for the moment, she was happy not to.

As quickly as the shock of the kiss wore thin, Natasha's snark had taken its place.

"You still uncomfortable?"

oOoOo

The second time she kissed him, it was out of fear. She had watched him as he took in labored breaths in the hospital room. She had held his hand when she was certain no one could see them. The kiss was chaste, and she pressed her lips to his forehead.

She couldn't lose him like she had lost so many others. She couldn't handle the idea of a world without him.

The fight with Barnes had almost made that a reality, and it terrified her to realize how much it worried her.

oOoOo

But the third time she kissed him, she kissed him knowing full well that walls she had spent a lifetime building were coming down. They were crumbling around her, and she couldn't stop them. He was so warm, so soft and gentle— the exact opposite of what she pretended to be.

She had been in his apartment, sitting on the sofa next to him as they watched the world recover from the HYDRA crisis on the news. The Widow had turned to see him watching her, and from there it had only escalated.

Natasha had lain curled in Steve's arms that night, listening to his gentle breaths as he slept beneath her— skin to skin, breath to breath. Natasha lay with her eyes open, watching the ceiling as lights from the traffic below danced along the darkened surface. She hadn't slept that night. Not really.

She was surprised to feel inexplicably safe with him. He looked at her and saw her for who she was, and while she feared what that might mean, he hadn't judged her for anything she revealed in her moments of weakness.

oOoOo

The last time she kissed him, it was a goodbye. They stood over Fury's false grave, and she knew it was time to move on. Widow's worked better alone, after all, didn't they? It hurt her to say goodbye to him, but she planted a kiss on his cheek and smiled for him nonetheless.

"Good luck, Steve," she had said as she handed him the file on Barnes.

He had never been hers to keep, but, in her own way, she had been his.