"Natasha." He means to be cool about it, but he hears distinctly the relief in his voice when he sees her unharmed. He never would've forgiven himself if she was irreparably injured in the mess he helped cause.
"Steven." She returns and slides into the seat in front of him. He moves his foot off the rung of it, closes his sketchbook without bothering to hide the pencil depiction of her face. She gives him a slight smile.
"Wakanda, huh?" She says, sipping the coffee he'd ordered for her. Black, with just a little sugar, to take away some of the bitterness. "They said it was harder to get in here. I seemed to do just fine."
Steve smiles, fingers twitch because he wants to touch her so badly. He doesn't. "I told T'Challa you might be coming, right after we put Buck back under. He said you'd be welcomed."
Natasha hums, says, "He's forgiving, that one."
She pushes her sunglasses back on her head, and red hair away from her face. There's a yellow-green bruise just below her temple and Steve finds himself leaning forward to touch it, despite earlier reservations. To her credit, Natasha only barely flinches away before she relaxes into the shy caress of his fingertips. She hadn't known how good it would feel to be with him again.
"Clint caught me with his bow. It's fine. He's sorry." She tells him, even though he doesn't ask. Steve's hand drops, drags across the table back towards his drink.
"And Clint got back to his family?" Steve says, because he doesn't want to talk about the fighting anymore.
"Thanks to your prison break heist, yes. I have them all holed up in one of my safe houses until this all dies down a bit." Steve nods, once, sharply.
"Good." He pauses. "Everyone else?"
"Spiderkid is back in Queens, happy as can be. Lang is hiding out with the Pyms somewhere. Sam is in another one of my safe houses, says he'll make his way here when he can. Stark's hid Wanda somewhere with Vision, so they can't come after her. I don't know where Sharon is, but she gave word that she's safe – something about old friends. Rhodey is… He's recovering in the compound with Stark."
Steve sighs. "And Tony? I sent him a message…"
Natasha smiles, sympathetically more than anything. "I know. And he's still angry, but he's accepting things as they are. He has the burner tucked away for safe keeping."
Steve's quiet for a long time, watching Natasha's finger trace the pattern of the table. He listens to the sounds of the surrounding rainforest, mostly birds and audibly dripping rain drops, and says just loud enough to be heard. "And you?"
"Just as wanted as you." She says, and while Steve appreciates the honestly, it doesn't stop him from flinching.
"It's a good thing you're here, then." And because he's not too sure if she's intending on staying, and because it's started rain again for what seems like the millionth time since Steve arrived in Wakanda, "Think you can take a little rain?"
"Please, Rogers… Want to show me where your little hidey hole is?" Natasha smirks and pushes back damp hair. Steve smiles despite himself.
"I wouldn't call it little." He turns in his seat, gesturing to an intricate Vibranium palace, built into the mountains and shrouded in fog.
"So fugitives in style, then." She raises an eyebrow, he laughs just a little, and they stand. He straddles his bike, scooting forward to accommodate her, and she swings a leg over behind him.
"I'll get you one of your own." He says, over the rumble of the engine, because he can only imagine her sneer at having to ride with him.
"I'm holding you to that, Rogers." And he takes off.
That night, with her weight settled on the other side of his borrowed bed, Steve sleeps better than he has since all this began.
Notes:
There was a lot going through my head after watching Civil War and this was one of the many other, unpublished (typical) things that I wrote. The only one I at least kind of liked. Anyways, feedback is always appreciated.