Disclaimer: Sadly I don't own anything Marvel related. I'm just tired of the Widow memory wipe.

Memory Bridges

"This is not how I wanted to spend my Friday night," he said over the sound of gunfire.

Popping up, emptying both magazines then dropping back behind the burned out hull of a car they were using for cover Widow replied, "You have some kind of big Friday night plans Bucky?"

It could have been sarcasm. Could have been a valid question. Sometimes it was hard to tell with her. Especially now that she didn't remember him. Many of her words, mannerisms and habits had shifted. Not so much changed completely or anything, but shifted. They were still hers, but different.

James didn't know how to explain it. Not really. All he knew was that there was a time they would have had plans. Or would have if they weren't in the middle of a war zone trying to rescue a handful of POWs, taking heavy enemy fire.

Maybe this really was a typical Friday night.

They'd been here for days. Trying to recover operatives that had gotten kidnapped along the way. Unfortunately they'd been too late. The only thing they'd managed to actually recover had been files. Valuable sure. But the lives were already lost, and probably had been mere hours after the attack.

Now they were just trying to get out of a hostile country with no back up and SHIELD loathe to involve itself in the skirmish even if they had been giving the orders.

Politics. Always useless.

Fed up with the situation, Natasha sighed. It was easier to get out separately but she wasn't willing to split up. Not now. If they caught either one of them there wouldn't be a lot of questions asked. No, it was best to get out together. And for reasons she couldn't name, she hesitated to leave him behind. Not just practical reasons.

"We need to be done with this." Yes, she was stating the obvious, but her patience had ended. They were trying to end this somewhat diplomatically, but that time had passed.

"I couldn't agree more." He nearly slipped. Nearly called her Natalia.

James returned fire while she stayed still, eyes scanning the area, plotting their way out. It was hard to tell who were the good guys and who were the bad guys over here. Or maybe he didn't want to. He just wanted both of them out.

When he ducked back down she gave a nod to one of the buildings close by.

"South side. I can get us to the top. It will take them a few minutes to scramble air support. We can be undercover by then and half way out of town."

Half way was better than nothing, he thought with a grin.

"Let's go," replied Barnes, hands itching to reach out to help her up.

Then she was gone and he was hot on her heels.

Plaster broke behind her back as he slammed her into the wall. The sound of her head hitting it made a small thud. Legs gripped his waist, arms going around his neck. Maybe he was being too rough. He didn't care. It had been so long since he'd been so close to her. Felt her touch. Alarm bells were going off in the back of his head. She didn't remember him. Couldn't remember him according to SHIELD. And he never wanted to cause her pain. That's why he left it alone. Why he kept track of her when she didn't know it. Kept tabs on her, made sure she was safe as much as he could. Intervened at times when he couldn't.

None of that mattered. None of the reasons he had kept his distance from her, not pushed her, didn't beg her to remember him mattered right here. Away from the heat of battle they were both feeling heat of another kind. Maybe it was just the need to feel alive after barely escaping with their lives. Barnes would like to think it was something more. But he would never ask for more. Right now, just having her here was enough.

Fingers gripped his hair, pulling his head back and her lips were at his throat. Teeth grazed flesh and he growled. Hands on her ass, he swung them around once more, this time landing them on the desk with a thump. Items he had set there scattered, the lamp falling to the floor with a crash. Some might worry about hurting her. James wasn't one of those people.

Landing on top of her, both of them going down in a heap, he relished the feel of her under him. Roughly he kissed her, lips crushing against hers. As always, hers were soft against his. Soft but demanding. Her lack of memory didn't seem to inhibit what she wanted. All the signals were there. The way her body responded to his. The way she let out a moan when he touched the backs of her knees. The goosebumps that rose on her flesh when he skimmed the back of her neck with his mouth.

All of it was there... but not. She didn't look at him the same.

Tearing his thoughts away from what he'd lost, he focused solely on her. There was no way to recover what she had taken from her. All he could do was be grateful for what he had right now.

Natalia in his arms.

Something about this was familiar. Her body felt it, knew his in a way she couldn't recall. Knew how his skin felt against hers. Knew the callouses on his hands. Knew the way he smelled... All he had to do was touch her and she felt herself grow wet. Knew what the touch of his hands against her breasts would feel like. Felt her body yearn to feel his skin against his.

Somehow, she knew all of this. But she didn't know how she knew. Had no real memory of any of it. It wasn't instinct. It wasn't something she could pull solid recollections of. It was a feeling, sensation. Everything else was lost in a fog of nothingness.

It didn't matter, she told herself harshly. They were alive. They had every right to enjoy each other how they saw fit. To celebrate simply being alive. And what better way to do it?

His body was hovering over hers now and she arched into him as his tongue circled a nipple. Fingers tightened in his hair again, holding his head there. Not willing to let him go. One hand held him over her, the other was trailing down her body until it met the wet folds of her flesh and she parted her legs to allow him there.

Tasha cried out when a finger entered her. Part of her wanted him to continue, the rest of her wanted all of him inside of her. Using his hair as leverage, she hauled his head up to hers, yanking his head down so their lips could meet again.

Tongues fought for dominance and her body quivered under his hand.

"Bucky," she hissed against his mouth as her body began to twitch. Head dropped back and her body arched up in a pose as old as time.

Magic fingers knew just where to touch her and his mouth was was back to her breasts. His hand knew just the rhythm to use and it only took a few minutes before she tensed, her body reaching for release.

But the sound of a name she only started using after she lost him was nearly enough to make him bleed.

James couldn't help it. He wanted nothing more than to feel her cum against him. The next thing he wanted was to feel her around him while he drove into her. Working out his frustration and loneliness, the sense of loss that hadn't gone away no matter what he did or how hard he tried. Maybe he couldn't have Natalia back. But right now, he could have Natasha. And that was good enough.

He couldn't survive without her. He'd tried.

When the tremors slowed, he pulled his hand away, mouth swallowing her protests. Rough against hers, his lips possessed hers, teeth grazing those lips that tasted so sweet to him. He was hard and throbbing as he jerked her to the edge of the wood slab, situating himself between her legs. Happy to comply, her legs went around his waist once again, leaving herself open to him. There was no hesitation when he entered her then dropped down for more contact. Lips against the pulse in her neck, his name spilled from her lips in a pant. That name.

Unable to stop himself, he drove into her, rejoicing in the feel of her around him, their skin sliding together, the steady thump of her blood against his mouth, her hands in his hair.

Every sense was filled with Natasha. The scent of her arousal and the underlying citrus smell that was unique to her filled his nostrils. Face now buried in her neck, he breathed in deeper. God he had missed this. Missed her. Everything about her was a salve for his tortured soul.

No mercy as he slammed into her, attempting to drive himself deeper and deeper. To loose himself in her. Tasha met him thrust for thrust, giving no quarter, never surrendering.

Rolling them over and into the desk chair, hands gripped her waist as she rose to sit upright. Hands slipped from his hair, moving towards his chest instead. Fingernails grazed his skin, along his neck, across his shoulders, part way down his arms until they stopped at his chest. Muscles bunched under her fingers as she rode him. His own fingers gripped harder, knowing he would leave bruises but not caring.

Her head dropped back, a spill of read hair fell down her spine, strands of it touching his hands. Fingers reached up, twining in it, pulling her head back further. Rising from his slouch in the chair so he could get to her neck once again, he bit down, hard enough to feel it, but not hard enough to break skin.

A whimper escaped her and her hands moved to his shoulders, nails digging in. Tongue and teeth along her collarbone, her skin like velvet against his mouth, her taste nearly overwhelming to him.

It had been too damn long. He felt like a man who had been without oxygen until he was nearly dead. Once again she was breathing life back into him. Just like she always did

Bucky rolled them over until she was straddling him, riding him, using his body as she saw fit. When he pulled her head back and teeth met skin she didn't even try to stop the groan that escaped her.

Tasha wanted more. Wanted to feel him against every inch of her skin. As he continued to use his mouth against her, fingers dug into his skin. She never gave up her movements, coming up just enough for him to nearly slip out of her and crashing back down until he was buried as deeply as possible. Some part of her wanted him buried inside of her and refuse to move, refuse to allow him to slide out of her, leaving them connected.

The soldier moaned against her skin and she felt a shiver move through her. Breasts moved against his chest, her nipples hard against his skin. It wasn't enough. She wanted more. Wanted all of him. When his hand loosened in her hair she was on him, mouth crushing against his, tongues engaging in an age old battle.

Still it wasn't enough.

"More," Natasha whispered against his lips.

Never wanting to disappoint her, arms went around her, supporting her, as he rose. Her legs were once more around his waist, holding on to him with a death grip he didn't realize he'd missed. Neither of them missed a beat, him still thrusting into her and her moving to meet his every move.

Another dent in the dry wall. It was hard enough that most people would have complained. Not Natasha. A sound of encouragement in her throat when his hands went to her ass, mimicking the position they had been in when this all started.

Mouths fused once more and he showed her mo mercy with his body. Barnes drove into her relentlessly, losing himself in her. Using her to bury the memories of the last few years. Using her to burn away the time she had been gone from him.

She could feel every bruise and scrape he made. Feel herself become sore from the abuse his body was dishing out. But she didn't care. She wanted it all. Urged him on to do more.

Something in her head was screaming a warning, but she shoved it aside. Nothing else mattered in this moment. Just the feel of him against her, inside of her. There was a clicking, a shifting somewhere inside of her. Lightning behind her closed eyes. A thinning of the fog, as if she finally had a glimpse of something long ago experienced.

There was no denying she felt it this time. Times past she had ignored it, pretended she hadn't felt it. But this time she had. This time, she knew there was something missing. Something she was supposed to know. Something that would change everything. No more fog, just a black hole where memories should be.

As her mind began to grasp at it, her body was floating elsewhere. Rhythm began to become irregular and his movements more jerky. Hands still held on to his shoulders, legs wrapped tightly around his waist, not allowing him to leave her. Her back slammed into the wall behind her over and over again as he thrust into her.

"Natalia," he breathed, his body giving itself over to hers. Spasms hit him and she was crushed between the unforgiving wall and his body. Her own body quivered around him, lips at his ear as his face rested against her neck.

After a moment he moved them once again, this time to the bed. When he landed on her a second time, it felt like home. The soft mattress enveloped them, a juxtaposition between the harness of his body and the downy embrace of the bed. She knew this. Had been here before. There were no memories to support it, but it didn't change what she knew.

It was the look on his face, the love he felt for her written on every scant inch of it, that made it click.

Slid into place like a long lost puzzle piece.

Fragments of time lost to her. Many of them vague and not entirely formed. Bits of glitter in the wind, wisps of fog in her mind. Flashes of knowledge that weren't as solidified as they should be.

It was then she knew.

His eyes looked up to meet hers and she smiled.

"James..."