Natasha woke still cradled in Brock's arms, the morning sun diffused by the shades they'd drawn last night before tumbling into bed for wild, almost violent, sex. She was still pleasantly fatigued this morning, enough that she just settled herself more comfortably against him.

Brock was still asleep, judging by the slow rise and fall of his chest, and Natasha smiled, letting her mind wander where it would. Which was mostly to memories of last night – not the sex so much as the feeling of just being with someone, no ulterior motives clouding the experience. How long had it been since she'd felt that way? Or had she ever felt that way, really? She didn't know and, right now, reveling in the rightness of the feeling, she didn't care.

The only sign she had that Brock had awakened was the tightening of his arms around her, followed by, "You're still here."

Natasha had to smile. "Amazingly acute observation."

"Considering I haven't had caffeine yet, it's amazing I noticed at all."

Natasha chuckled. "Far be it from me to keep a man from his coffee."

She started to get up, but he tugged her back down. "There are better ways to wake me up."

"Just promise you won't fall asleep after." That's new, too - teasing just for the fun of it.

"I won't if you won't."

#

In the end, they moved from bed to shower, and then to the kitchen where Natasha made coffee while Brock made breakfast.

"It won't be fancy," he warned her. "But it'll fill you up."

Natasha set a cup of coffee on the counter for him, took her own to the table and sat quietly while he cooked. He liked that, he decided – she liked that they could be quiet together, even after so short a time. Maybe it was a result of their training, or maybe it was because they were soulmates. Whatever the reason, Natasha decided to enjoy it.

And she did, until Brock set a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast in front of her, sitting opposite her with his own plate.

"Figured it out yet?" he asked.

Natasha pursed her lips, wondering where that question had come from. "What?"

"Why the universe thinks we're soulmates."

Oh. That. Natasha took a bite of egg before replying, "Not yet."

His piercing gaze locked onto hers. "You still want to?"

She'd promised to be honest, and she would, however unfamiliar it might be. "I'm afraid to."

"Why?"

Natasha had dreaded that question. She wasn't sure how to answer it, much less answer it honestly. She took another bite of the eggs, followed it with bacon while she considered what answer she could make.

"Because you're afraid I'm right?" Brock suggested after she'd taken two more bites without speaking.

"No," Natasha said quickly.

"You think I'm wrong?"

"No, it's not because I'm afraid you're right," Natasha clarified. "I know you are, at least partly."

"Totally."

"Mostly."

"All right, mostly." Brock grinned and took a swallow of coffee. "So if you know I'm mostly right, what's the issue?"

That question, at least, had an easy answer. "The parts where I'm not sure you're right. And the conclusions you've drawn from the facts."

"How're they the issue? More coffee?"

"Yes, thanks. They're the issue because that's where we'll disagree."

"A little disagreement keeps a relationship healthy. Or so they say." Brock returned to the table, set her now-full cup in front of her.

"Would they still say that if said disagreement could end up with a 911 call?" Natasha mused.

Brock barked a laugh. "Like either of us would ever call 911."

Natasha couldn't help smiling. "There is that."

"What bothers you about disagreeing with me?"

"Nothing. Honest," she added to his skeptical look. "It's that I could come to agree with you."

"That demands explanation."

"What is there to explain?" Natasha asked.

"Why it would be bad if you did agree with me."

She was quiet as she sipped her coffee. "Have you ever been on the receiving end of Captain America's I'm very disappointed in you expression?"

"Can't say that I have. I've seen You traitorous bastard and I'm going to have to kill you but never I'm very disappointed in you."

"Be grateful," Natasha said solemnly. "Be very grateful. It's like a thousand puppies have been betrayed, and not all the apple pie in the world will make it better."

"That's … a very disturbingly mixed metaphor. Or something."

"I heard one of Pepper's interns say that expression could make the fiercest, angriest animal you can imagine turn away with its tail tucked between its legs."

Brock had to laugh. When he caught his breath, he said, "So you don't want to disappoint Rogers. I accept it, even if I don't get it. What other reasons?"

Natasha took another slow swallow of coffee. She wasn't used to being honest, and was surprised at how difficult it could be. Damn Steve for making it look so easy. "It would compromise me. My ability to do my job."

Brock stilled, and for the first time, Natasha felt uncomfortable with him, with her inability to read him as she read so many other people. What was he thinking?

For the first time, she was the one who felt the need to fill a silence. "I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't do my job anymore."

And that was far more honesty than she'd planned on offering him. Even as that thought formed itself, another followed: But it was necessary.

She took a breath, let it out slowly. "After the Triskelion, I told Steve I had to figure out who I wanted to be now, and I couldn't do it. I didn't know, had no place to start, nothing to build from. It was a relief when Steve called to tell me they'd found Barnes, because it gave me something to do, someone to be."

"Natasha -" Brock's voice was tight with some emotion she didn't want to identify.

"I can't do that again, Brock. I won't do that again."

She hated that her voice was shaky when she made that declaration, hated even more that Brock would know the emotion behind it, the emotion she never let anyone see. But this man, her soulmate - he'd know it all, and she closed her eyes against his reaction, the pity and disgust that were why she kept her mask so carefully in place. She couldn't bear to see that, not from him.

His arms were around her almost before she felt him move, holding her tight against his body.

He didn't speak, but she could feel his heart pounding beneath her ear where it pressed against his chest. It wasn't until his heartbeat returned to something like a normal rate that he spoke.

"I promise, Natasha - I'll never let you get to that place."

"How can you make that promise?" Natasha demanded.

"Because you're my soulmate," Brock answered steadily, despite the gravel in his voice. "And whether we bond or not, you matter to me. You always have, even before I knew you, and you always will."

"How can I believe you?" That wasn't a demand, Natasha realized. It was the plaintive question of the little girl she hadn't been even when she was a child.

"Because I'm your soulmate, the person who will never betray you, never walk away from you when you need someone. Let yourself believe that, Natasha, even if you never believe anything else."

Natasha swallowed past a sudden lump in her throat. "I'll try."

Brock's arms tightened around her. "I'll help."