A/N: Hey again! I'm trying not to be annoying with these author notes (I like to keep them to a minimum) but I have a couple things to say.

First of all, I'm going on vacation in the next week, so this may or may not be the last chapter I can post for a couple weeks. I'll try to get another one up right before I leave, but I won't have wifi for about 14 days. So, we'll see what happens.

Second of all, WinterWidow is featured in this chapter. If the context is confusing to you (MCU doesn't feature them as a couple - SHAME ON THEM), in the comics Bucky trained Natasha in the Red Room. They have history and I lovvve them as a couple, so that's why I threw it in.

Love, love, love you all! Thanks for reading!

~OnYourLeft107


She decided to go after him alone. The way Tony reacted to Steve's death convinced her he hadn't been a part of it, but still the fact that she had traced the hacker back to Stark's funded engineers made her more than uncomfortable. Natasha wondered if Tony had any idea. She wondered if he was pursuing the issue if he did know and had just kept that "minor detail" to himself. If he didn't know yet, she wondered how long it would take for him to find out.

With or without Fury's warning, Natasha didn't know who to trust. I mean, that's kind of what happens to you when you're manipulated into a trained killer from childhood, you escape your abusers and join an organization to wipe out the things you were forced to do, only to find out that you've been painting in red for the people you thought you escaped the whole time. It really isn't a fun business, this whole super spy assassin thing. Her thoughts replayed the conversation she had had with Steve when they found out HYDRA infiltrated SHIELD. There's a chance you're in the wrong business….

The least she could do, though, is what she thought Steve would've wanted. Try to get to Barnes. Save him, if she could. Disable him if she couldn't. Not kill. She had done enough in her time; so had he. They both probably deserved to die from an outside standpoint; she could see Stark's point of view. But Natasha was well aware of HYDRA's mind tricks and she knew what Bucky had been through, what they had made him do, what he couldn't unsee. She had known him before they made him their puppet. She had known him when there was still some of him left, when he still fought back with every ounce of him that could. And she knew, underneath it all, the real Bucky was undoubtedly good, no matter what his counterpart had done. Tony couldn't see that, and there was the difference. Steve could, and she had been there for it all.

It tore at her a bit, when the Accords had come up, because in reality she knew Bucky didn't deserve any more pain. She also knew what he faced if the government ever prosecuted him. Even before the U.N. bombing she had known she would be restricted from helping him if Steve ever actually went anywhere in his search. She hadn't known if she was okay with that.

Almost sent me into retirement, Barnes, she thought to herself with a smirk. If he could recognize her, if she could bring him back, she'd tell him. He'd be happy to hear it.

For now, though, she had to concentrate on finding him. He was a ghost, but she knew where to look. They were cut from the same cloth. She had gone after him before and she had told Steve it was a dead end. Well, it was, if you were looking for death and your end. Still have that scar, Barnes. If we both make it out of this alive, we're having a long talk about Odessa. A long one.


It was a gorgeous day for a joyride, the birds were whistling and it was warm. A slight breeze freshened the air as Natasha bumped down the country roads. Too bad the reason she was out there was anything but joyful. The agent switched off the radio - all that was available were talk shows and country music anyways - so she could think.

Nat ran over her current list of known allies. She came up with one. Fury. Which was unhelpful considering he was technically dead and she didn't know where he was. Tony she had taken for granted as a trusted friend, but until she knew for sure if he had any connection to HYDRA, she wasn't going to contact him. He didn't know she had left town and she preferred to keep it that way.

There was the added side note that going after an internationally wanted criminal without government orders was illegal, especially after Natasha signed an official document binding her even further to the said international law. It was a shame, too. She had finally managed to stay off the government's radar for a while.

Oh well.

Years with HYDRA and then SHIELD had taught her the ins and outs of making the hard call. Going after hard cases was part of that learning experience, and this was yet another instance she could add to her growing resume. It was more than that, though, because these weren't just names on the list. These were her friends. This mission couldn't fail.

She located Barnes after pulling a few plugs. Turns out the Winter Soldier wasn't always as careful as he should be - or as invisible. He had just killed his best friend, though, so his mind probably wasn't overly concerned with the fact that he had left his tracks only partially covered.

And that's how she found herself holding a gun to his head and provoking some language from Sam.


"Both of you are coming with me."

Sam glared at the owner of the voice. "And why the hell would we do that?"

"If you don't, I'll spill his brains. Or, better yet, I'll leave you both. The people on their way won't be so merciful, and they're almost here."

"Natalia." He said it softly, as if the name was a cherished memory.

The title caught Black Widow off-guard and sent a sharp ache through her chest. No one had called her that since she had left Russia. That name. He didn't know her by any other. He, not it. Bucky, not the machine they turned him into.

Natasha retracted the gun. "Bucky?" she whispered, her voice significantly gentler.

Sam glanced between the two and took their moment of distraction to grab and cock the .22. "How do we know we can trust you?" he asked, tentatively pointing the rifle at Natasha. "I mean, you did just almost shoot him."

Bucky put his hand out and lowered Sam's gun. "It's okay. She's on our side."

"She wasn't the last time I saw her."

"Well, let's find out." Bucky whipped into a standing position and put Nat's hand that clutched the gun back against his head. "Take the shot. You know I deserve it. Those are the orders out right now, Natalia. 'Shoot on site.'" For a moment, she saw him falter, the challenging confidence fade, a desperate pain flash through his eyes. "You've got a clear shot." He swallowed. "Just take it."

For once, Black Widow lost her composure and he felt the gun tremble against his scalp. "You know I can't," Nat whispered, her expression wounded. "You know I never could." She lowered the gun and looked at him. "So, it's really you."

Sam's jaw dropped as deadly assassin pulled fatal ghost story into a hug. Well obviously there's something I'm missing here. He raised his eyebrows at Bucky. "Um, yeah, so, sorry I'm not following this, but the last time I saw you two in each other's vicinity, you shot her."

"Told you I deserved the bullet," Bucky mumbled.

"No. No, you don't." She breathed him in, relaxed in his firm but gentle touch. "You didn't know. There was no way you could've stopped it." She stepped away, looked at him for a moment, then slapped him, not too hard. "But it hurt!"

"Were you really going to spill my brains," Bucky smiled as he asked, "if it wasn't me?"

"No. I just needed a dramatic entrance."

Sam almost doubled over. Did the revered Agent Romanoff - revered for her subtle but heartless fatality - just wink at Bucky?

"Alright, alright, break it up. I don't know how you guys know each other or why all of a sudden we're supposed to be cool, but according to Natasha," he gave Bucky a pointed look, "we're all about to die or get captured by some brutal bad guys." He glared at the redhead. "Or was that also an empty threat?"

Natasha sobered. "No, that was real. Wilson's right, we should go."

"Of course I'm right," Sam muttered, grabbing what was his off the floor.

"Natasha, huh?" Bucky asked. "That's what they call you now?"

"I mean, we're in America, James. They're not going to go all Cold War on me."

"James?" Sam retorted. "James?"

Bucky glanced at Natasha. "Но вы все еще можете говорить по-русски, да*?"

She scoffed. "Конечно, Барнс, я не идиот.**"

"Okay! Enough with the Russian! Can we not brutally die?" Sam was flushing with irritation, although he'd never admit it. "I mean, I don't know if that's a concern for people like you, but I'd kinda like to make it outta here alive."

Natasha pulled the hood of her black sweatshirt over her bright red hair - which Bucky had always loved; some things never changed - and casually glanced outside the shed. Nothing in sight. "Alright, let's go. Both of you, get in the back," she said, calmly gesturing to the silver truck as she speed-walked to the driver's side. "Oh, and take the gun. You might need it."


*But you still speak Russian, right?

**Of course, Barnes, I'm not an idiot.