Avengers, Assemble?

Disclaimer: No financial gain has been made by the writing or distribution of this story. The author makes no claim of ownership to any of the characters appearing within. The Avengers and all related characters are the property of Marvel Entertainment and the Walt Disney Company.

Steve Rogers kept his eyes on the terrorist compound as he lowered his binoculars and reached for his communicator. "Security looks pretty tight. They've got machine guns in each of the watchtowers. Fence is about ten feet tall, with barb wire. There's a bunch of guards on the outside too, patrolling in pairs."

"Want me to drop the bomb?"

"Negative," Steve said. He exhaled in anticipation of the task ahead, watching his breath condense in the cold Siberian air. "I think I can get in on my own," he said as he reached behind to pull out his shield. He considered the situation one last time while he slid the metal disk down his arm. Time to go, he thought.

Jumping from rock to rock, he made his way down the craggy terrain toward the compound below. Even with super soldier serum flowing through his veins, it was no quick task. Steve was glad that it was dark, somewhat mitigating the absurd brightness of his costume. With more time, he might have found something less conspicuous before heading out on this mission. But nothing else had the same combination of flexibility and protection that his carbon polymer armor afforded him. And more importantly, his friend couldn't wait any longer. She had already been held for long enough.

Despite that, Steve was out there risking his life without official sanction. Colonel Fury and the other leaders believed that this rescue mission wasn't worth the risk. Their dismissive attitude toward their own agent was something that Steve could not even begin to understand. He had been a soldier back in the day, and soldiers knew that they were to "Leave no man behind."

With that unshakeable belief, he had set out on this mission with just the help of a couple likeminded individuals. No matter what happened, there would be hell to pay once he returned to SHIELD. But Colonel Fury's wrath was the least of Steve's concerns. He had been in this situation before, and he had not sat on the sidelines then.

Steve came to a stop at the base of the hill, where he slipped behind a small mound of dirt. He leaned against the earth and listened as two men approached.

"All clear in sector three," a guard reported.

Right on time, Steve thought, satisfied that his earlier surveillance had paid off. It was good to know his enemies' patterns. This pair wouldn't be reporting in for another half hour. Steve rushed out, determined to make the most of that time.

"What's that?" one of the guards yelled. He panicked, spraying away with his assault rifle. Steve charged forth with his head lowered behind his vibranium shield, as numerous bullets clanged off of it. He remembered how frightened he had been when Peggy had first put that thing to the test. By now though, he was used to it. Gunfire was as normal to him as any other sound in life.

Steve pulled his fist back and decked his opponent with a single blow. Not stopping for a second, he swung around and hurled his shield at the remaining guard. The man's arms flew up as it slammed against his forehead, before he too hit the ground. Steve walked calmly as he went to retrieve his shield, knowing that the guards would not be getting up. He had taken down better men than these with the same exact moves.

After slipping on his shield, he looked down to examine the weapon of his fallen enemy. It was an M4A1 carbine, the same type of weapon favored by SHIELD as well as by US special operations forces. Attached to the weapon were numerous high tech accessories that Steve recognized but barely understood. He turned toward the guard's face, where a pair of night vision goggles rested. These were no typical terrorists. Whoever supplied them was definitely well-connected.

Steve sighed as he picked up the carbine and wrapped its sling around his shoulder. He didn't use long guns very often, preferring instead to keep one arm free to hold his shield. But his friend would need a weapon to fight her way out. He hoped to God that she was still in a condition to do so.

Natasha Romanoff groaned as she felt a hand on her shoulder, shaking her.

"Hey, wake up already!"

She cracked her eyes open to see who had intruded upon her precious rest. "Ugh, can't I sleep at all around here?" She wasn't being the least bit sarcastic about that. Her frustration mounted when she remembered just how long she had been there. This is worse than being waterboarded, she thought.

"What did they do to you, Natasha?" Steve asked as he looked down into her eyes.

"Exactly what I expected," she snapped back.

"That bad, huh?" Steve said, sounding more upset about things than she was.

"No, not really…" Natasha answered. The big question that she should have asked first suddenly came to mind. "What the hell are you doing here, Steve?"

"Colonel Fury tracked me down. Wanted to get me back in the service. I heard you were in trouble."

"You heard because you asked about me," Natasha said.

"Yeah, I did," Steve replied, looking perplexed.

"Did he specifically order you out here?"

"No. This was Tony's idea."

"When does Stark have good ideas?!" Natasha asked. She began to feel tense, in a way that only Tony Stark could ever bring about. "He's not here, is he?"

"He's handling air support. Right now, he's bear hugging Banner at twelve-thousand feet."

"He's got Banner up there? Are you kidding me?!"

"Uh…that was also Tony's idea," Steve said. "Bruce didn't like it at all, but Tony thought it'd be fun to drop the Other Guy on some people. Said it'd be like a 'big green tactical nuke.'"

"Oh Jesus," Natasha said. "Is anyone else here? Please say no."

"Um…no?" Steve replied awkwardly. "Thor's still trying, but he couldn't make it on such short notice. Different worlds and all that. Clint…he didn't want any part of this." Steve paused to shake his head. "I'm sorry, Natasha. I thought you two were close."

"We are close," Natasha said. "But unlike the rest of you, he looks before he leaps." She looked down as Steve began to untie her from her chair. "Stop that. You guys need to go. Now."

"I'm getting you out too."

Natasha sighed. "No, you aren't. If Fury wanted you guys to save me, he would've said so."

"So you planned all of this?" Steve asked.

"Uh, yeah," Natasha said, making no effort to hide her annoyance as she nodded her head. "I'm on a secret mission, okay? Colonel Fury wants me to find the traitor who's been supplying these people."

"I see," Steve said as he took a step back. "Well, this is embarrassing."

"Just go, Steve," Natasha said. "The interrogator will be here any minute."

"Interrogator?"

"Yeah," Natasha said with a smirk. "They're bringing in some guy called Vladimir. He's supposed to be the best or something."

"You don't sound very worried."

"Nah," Natasha said. "I run into guys like him every other week."

Both of them turned to the door as they heard several men speaking in Russian just outside the room.

"What are they saying?" Steve asked.

"They're getting ready…they'll be here in a couple minutes. You gotta go, Steve."

"Okay," he said as he jumped and pulled himself into the open ventilation shaft above. "Sorry about this…By the way, I took out some guards on the way in. Everyone will know in about fifteen minutes."

Natasha looked down and groaned before turning back to Steve. "Oh well," she said with a shrug. "I'll have Vlad coughing up answers soon enough."

Steve opened his mouth slightly as if to say something, before choosing to just nod his head. "Good luck," he said before disappearing into the darkness of the shaft.

"Hey," Natasha said before he could get too far away. Steve returned, sticking his head back into the room. "Why were you guys all so eager to save me?"

He paused for several seconds before answering. "Some of us have nothing else but this. Some of us don't have anyone else…but each other."

Natasha's face softened, as she felt something strange stir inside her chest. It was an odd sense of belonging that she didn't quite know how to handle. But unlike most of her feelings, she didn't hate it. "Thanks for checking in on me…" she said, pausing for time to find her own words. "Hey, maybe we can do shawarma again sometime. You, me, and all the guys."

"I'd like that very much," Steve said, smiling before he departed again.

As the door opened in front of her, Natasha smiled as well. This one wasn't one of her well-practiced smiles, nor was it one of defiance in the face of danger. It was something else entirely.