He misses her. But he doesn't dare admit that. Not to Sharon, or Fury, or Tony, or any of the rest. Least of all Natasha. Least of all himself.
He doesn't know why, but just as he promised he wouldn't let this happen again, he finds himself allowing months to drift by without seeing his friends. No Tony or Thor or Clint. Much less Natasha.
So it's a sunny afternoon in Washington, D.C. and he's out jogging alone (Sam left after the morning jog) when he sees any of them again. Only, it's not exactly any one of them, it's Natasha.
His first impulse is to simply keep jogging and not stop to say anything. It's been so long and they've kind of been avoiding each other anyway, and besides she's changed her hair again so initially he's not absolutely certain it's her. (He's fairly sure, but not one hundred percent sure, and he's looking for an excuse not to get into an awkward encounter.)
But he can't let her slip past like he has so often in the past, so he throws caution to the winds and acknowledges her as they come level with each other. "Agent Romanoff."
She doesn't even turn to look at him, just keeps on walking. She's in a tank and jeans and boots, and he can't help but notice that she looks good - really good. "Captain Rogers," she says, in her smoothest, most diplomatic voice.
He doesn't seem to have her attention, so he says, "I need to ask you a favor."
She doesn't stop. At least she slows slightly.
"Natasha..."
"I don't have time for it now, Rogers," she says, almost brusquely. "I'll see you tonight."
Tonight. Right. At Stark's party. Sharon will be there. Nonetheless, he accepts this. Breaks another promise he once made, both to himself and to Natasha - to stop letting go.
He wonders when he'll ever learn.
It's the first time the Avengers have been together in a long, long time. Tony is flirting (unsuccessfully) with Natasha, alcohol on his breath, while Pepper talks to a diplomat not far away. Clint watches over Natasha protectively, as if she can't handle herself, and Bruce and Thor are chatting across the room. Steve is alone with Sharon.
It's a Stark party, and that means it's loud and it's bright. Pounding music. Rainbow lights sweeping across a huge dance floor. Voices mingling across the building, laughter mixed with shouting mixed with husky whispers.
(Did Steve mention he's never been one for parties?)
Natasha looks brilliant, just like she did earlier, Clint thinks. The thin-strapped red dress hugs her figure pleasantly, but hides enough to be elegantly modest. Her hair is held back with a single pin on one side, but most of it cascades down her back and falls around her waist. He smiles at her and she smiles back and they are both so happy.
Her phone flashes at her.
She glares at the words on the screen, the little letters spelling out Nick Fury's name. She turns regretfully to Clint, ignoring Tony for the time being. "Duty calls, I'm afraid," she sighs.
"You mean, Fury calls," Clint corrects, smiling just as regretfully.
She shrugs. "Same thing." After a moment she reaches up, kissing him gently on the cheek, and heads out. She's really, truly been enjoying herself, for the first time in how long? - and of course she has to leave early, because fate never was on her side anyway.
Fury meets her outside, just as she knew he would. "I'm going to ask a favor of you, Agent Romanoff," he says. "And you might as well know now that, with all due respect, I am not taking no as an answer."
She watches him for a long moment, then simply nods.
"I'm worried about Rogers. On account of your companionship with him, I want you to keep an eye on him. You're good at these things." He watches her reaction for a moment, her carefully impassive features, then continues. "And there's also something else I need you to do..."
Her blood runs cold. But she can't say no.
Seems like everyone's asking her for favors today.
The "something else" Fury needs her for is to track down the Winter Soldier, who's still on the loose, and terminate him. (Natasha prefers to simply say "kill" because it gets right to the point, but Fury insists on using "terminate" because it's more elegant, and since it's not worth the time to argue with him, Natasha just accepts the terminology.)
Steve is thus of direct concern. The reason, Natasha thinks, is blatantly obvious, though Fury seems to think he has to explain it all to her. For god's sake, she's been doing this for years and she's known Steve almost that long. She's not an untrained child. Not even a junior agent, for that matter.
And because she's skilled at what she does, it doesn't take her too long to track the Winter Soldier. A couple weeks of searching through computer files and secure data that she's really not supposed to have her hands on. That's okay. She's okay with illegal, as long as it's not immoral or unethical. Though sometimes she stretches even those boundaries more than she cares to admit.
It's not as if she's been spending a whole lot of time with Steve anyway, but she finds herself avoiding him practically on purpose. She'd hate to see his reaction if he finds out what her mission is. Then she remembers Fury's other assignment, and, resignedly, she tells herself it's time she spend her days with Steve again.
The next day at SHIELD headquarters, she catches sight of him, and this time she turns to greet him. There's really no need: he's already saying her name anyway. "Got a mission from Fury," he says. "Something about the Winter Soldier. A shared mission with you." He doesn't look particularly happy about it, either.
She doesn't say anything, remains as calm and collected as ever, because she is Natasha; but inwardly she's thinking "oh", and she's really not quite sure how to feel. At least she doesn't have to keep her mission a secret from him anymore. He's the one person who can actually relate with her on this, anyway, since he was there the last time.
She inhales softly. "I know where he is. The Winter Soldier."
Steve looks at her. "Yeah?"
She nods. "Yeah."
"Then..." He straightens. "Let's go."
"So where is he then?" Steve asks, from the passenger seat of Natasha's sleek black car.
"Patience, big boy," she says coolly. "You'll see. But you gotta wait till we get there."
He looks away. "You could tell me, you know."
She gives him a crooked smile. "I could..."
He waits for a long moment, the silence hanging heavy and uncomfortable between them. She focuses her attention on the road. Then he speaks again, his voice nearly inaudible. "Natasha..."
She glances over at him. "Yeah?"
"Do you trust me?"
She laughs lightly. "I think I'd better, at least for now. I mean, what with this mission and all."
He frowns. "Not what I meant."
She waits a moment, exhales slowly. "Yeah," she says. "Yeah. I think so." She owes him this, anyway. He told her he trusted her with his life years ago, back when the whole winter soldier thing first started. It's time she returns the favor. Besides, it seems only fitting.
He leans back into his seat, his eyes on her, though she doesn't dare turn to look at him. "Then tell me where we're going."
And she does. She tells him everything.
Because he's the only person she trusts right now.
She's beginning to think she doesn't even trust herself.
