Another short and sweet addition. Over 50 followers! That's awesome. If I'd had just one reader who enjoyed this little fiction, I would be ecstatic. Thanks for putting up with all the typos and rough edges. I've gone back to edit over the months. Proofreading while simultaneously working full-time isn't easy.

Enjoy this little clip. Not flirting or anything but you've got such pretty eyes. I'm glad you're using them to read this, makes me happy. ;)

"So what'll it be ma'am?" Bucky asked flipping through titles. "Action, adventure, suspense maybe…?"

"I think we had enough of that for one day."

"True, what's your favorite movie then?" he asked.

She didn't answer right away, and her cheeks gave way to the faintest hint of pink.

"Okay, now I'm curious. What is it?"

"What's yours?"

"I asked first."

She shook her head and crossed her arms.

"C'mon," he said poking her shoulder. " I promise I won't laugh."

"Yes, you will."

"Fine, I'll be a gentleman and laugh behind your back."

"You're not going to drop this are you?"

"Not a chance."

She wanted to attempt a friendship with him, and after the stunt she had pulled earlier, he deserved that much. Forgetting their past was impossible (for her), but it didn't mean that the future of their friendship had to be. Having another person in her life that genuinely cared for her was a commodity she couldn't afford to turn down. Friendship meant sharing, so share she did.

"It's called The Thirteenth Year."

" A documentary?" he guessed typing in the title. It sounded like a murder mystery or a boring videography of a deity. It made sense to him that Natasha would like something serious like that. It took him by surprise when a Disney movie popped up describing, a coming of age story where a boy turns into…

"..a mermaid?" Bucky asked skeptically.

"It's ridiculous."

"It's not what I was expecting, but let's watch it." he said trying to cover his surprise with support.

"You're judging me," she accused playfully.

"I'm really trying not to."

"There's a backstory," she explained.

He gasped, " You're secretly a mermaid?"

"Not exactly."

In line with her newest friendship experiment, she told a story.

Her first week at SHIELD was a horrible one. They questioned Clint's sanity a hundred times, and did everything except spit in her direction as she walked by. A black widow becoming part of SHIELD? It was unheard of and dangerous, especially when her hands were still red with agents blood. Fury would have torn Clint apart if it wasn't for Coulson intervening. She was interrogated during the day, and locked in more of a cell, than a room at night.

Clint planted himself outside, sending a message to anyone who tried, that they would have to go through him first. Night after night her light remained on, and he watched the shadows of her tiny feet pace. Since neither of them were sleeping, he finally broke into the room with a vhs player, an old t.v, and a stack full of movies that he hadn't gotten around to watching.

He camped out on the floor of her bedroom with snacks and a pistol on his knee. She didn't understand him at all. He remained relaxed even though Fury threatened to deliver his a*s on a silver platter, at least three times a day. Her pacing continued, and the sixty watt bulb shone steadily.

Most of the movies picked were classic cartoons, some of which the Redroom had used to teach the girls english. Clint noticed that a particular shiver would overtake her during those. Several years went by before he learned the reason why. It was no coincidence that on the same afternoon Snow White and the Seven Dwarves were regally escorted from the collection to a bullseye in the shooting gallery.

By the seventh night, she was too exhausted to pace, and he was only surviving by the grace of espresso. That's when the cheesiest plot caught her attention, and she took a seat beside him on the cold concrete floor. It was a live action movie, which meant no flashbacks and nothing to remind her of the past.

Chez Starbuck, a boy thrown into a new confusing world without a clue as to why, was the perfect distraction. The world of aquatic fantasy and human adolescence crashed into one, and she found herself enthralled. A little magic in her reality was exactly what she needed. The ending was left open just enough to let the imagination run wild with the knowledge that whatever came next he would be just fine because he was surrounded by people who loved him. Feel good and warm, so far from where she found herself. It was numbing, and gave her hope that maybe just maybe she would be okay too. Natasha slept that night. After all those years of unknowingly running, she was oh so tired. The archer covered her with a blanket and finally the light was turned off.

" I think that was the night I started trusting Clint. We still watch it every once in awhile. It's dumb, but nice," she finished.

She shared something personal and he could not ignore how huge that was.

It surprised her when Bucky didn't crack a single joke. She looked at his face serious, yet soft. He thought for a moment.

"Ginger tea. I can't stand the stuff, but my mom used to make us drink it all the time. We had it as dinner more than once," he explained. " It makes me think of her. You know? When I have it. Makes me feel like I can still make her happy, even though she's gone. It doesn't make sense but it's…"

"..nice," she volunteered.

"Yeah, real nice."

He told her he was curious about the movie, but if it was a tradition between her and Clint they could watch something else. Even though she put on a very good front of insisting they didn't have to, she was glad he didn't mind suffering through it.

"Alright then, I'll change and we'll do this thing," he said clapping his hands together.

Rows and rows. Drawers and drawers of clothes he didn't need and hardly used. Suits and hoodies, denim, cotton and silk. His closet had a department store smell he hadn't gotten used to.

Natasha caught a glimpse of his torso behind the door. Impeccable attention to detail, is all it was. But her gaze stayed on ab-watch a second too long to justify it as that.

He poked his head out the door way. Hair messy from fighting with his collars.

" You want a jacket or something?"

She couldn't remember changing out of his shirt and into one of the scratchy medbay cotton blends, but it wasn't comfortable.

She thought about the funny shocked face Peter would make if she went downstairs obviously wearing something of Bucky's. It would take Tony a century to get over the shock, and another century for him to shut up about it.

"Sure."

He found a new green long sleeve and brought it for her.

She made a face.

"What, is green not your color?" he said backtracking.

"No, it's fine."

Emotions playing on her face was just a product of sedation, now she had to come up with a stupid excuse as to why she didn't want the shirt. A shirt with tags meant he had never worn it. It meant it didn't smell like him. She wouldn't be able to pretend that he knew the twenty-first century's connotation of sharing clothes, if it was only part of Tony's goal to stock his wardrobe with as he put it, "At least some form of class."

"You like things with a hood right?" he said searching the hangers.

"What about the Captain America sweater the paparazzi always catch you in ?" she asked.

"Catch me? They don't catch me," he answered indignantly. " Almost all the merchandise profits go to charity. I'm advertising."

" Sure, Barnes."

"Keep it up and you're sleeping with Steve tonight. "

"That's your thing not mine."

"You sound jealous," he said changing tactics.

"Only always."

His hand paused on one of the hangers. The air around him became incredibly thick as a sharp pain cut across the length of his skull. He dropped to one knee taking a fistful of clothes with him.

Only Always

He let out a grunt of pain tugging on the strands of hair closest to the hurt.

A muffled groan slipped past his lips.

"Is everything okay in there?" Natasha asked.

He waited to catch his breath before answering, "Yeah, everythings fine."

Pushing to his feet he grabbed the sweater he was looking for off the floor and returned to the low light of his room. She could tell something was the matter as he pushed his fingertips into his eyes with frustration.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he smiled. "Just a little headache is all."

He helped her change, careful to keep his eyes turned away from anything important. Afterwards he sat back in the chair twisting and trying to hold his head at the least painful angle.

The few feet between them felt like oceans, and Natasha couldn't stand it.

Muscle memory had her pulling back just enough covers for a Bucky sized spot.

She tugged on the edge of his sleeve. A jolt of adrenaline ran through her realizing he could easily say no and it would be a Banner situation all over again.

But she would do whatever it took to keep him close. If it was just as friends she'd be more than happy for it. However, one could argue that friends don't share the same bed, but this was a strange time dammit and strictly for medical purposes.

As soon as she was well, and could think straight she'd find a way to be nice while restoring a healthy distance.

"What is it sweetheart?" he whispered.

"You need to rest," she told him. "Lie down,"

At first he was taken aback, but the pull of being in his own bed after several nights away won over. Being next to her was the cherry on top.

" Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"I thought we agreed on not sleeping?"

"Sleeping and resting are two different things. You need rest. You're running on empty, I can tell."

"Fine," he said crawling under the covers. " But we're getting through this movie."

Friday projected onto the ceiling, so they could lay flat.

At first they decided to adhere to the invisible unspoken barrier between them. He kept his metal arm tucked behind his head and the other at his side, while she kept hers crossed. But as the minutes passed their bodies began to relax and reach for the other.

She battled with both the angel and demon on her shoulder. The latter always won. Why the other even tried was a mystery to her. Of course she would regret it later, and have to rebuild the months of internal therapy, but a few minutes of being in his arms was worth it. She placed her head against his chest, and nestled closer when his arm slowly closed around her.

"James?" she asked after a while.

"Yeah?"

"Think you can forgive me? I'm not going to make it," she said stifling a yawn.

I mean how could she not fall asleep? She hadn't felt that safe in decades, not to mention that at eleven p.m, the next wave of the virus had been triggered and her immune system was again fighting a losing battle.

"No problem," he said, closing his eyes as well."We'll try again tomorrow."

The headache had taken over the veins in his head. It felt like they were pumping lead instead of blood. Something about the whole situation was all too recognizable. The closer he was, the worse the headache became. But the closer he was the better, because he knew she was safe. After spending three days with the broken soul that was Natasha Romanoff, her safety had become his top priority . The threat an unbelievable migraine couldn't change that. His last thoughts were of Shuri, the smell of Natasha's shampoo and a glimpse of her at the end of a table he didn't recognize.

She looked so beautiful, so young. He tried to hold onto the image, but it left quickly leaving only a warm prickle of something forgotten in its place.

Peter crept up the stairs and peeped into the Winter Soldier's bedroom.

"Aww, Friday can you take a picture? I gotta show Steve."

"Sorry Peter you don't have clearance," the A.I answered.

"C'mon, just this once or no one will believe me!" he begged.

"Allow me a moment. I will ask for clearance. I believe he would want to see this as well."

Seconds later Spider-man's answer came.

"The picture is saved to your phone Peter. Please return to bed."

"Cool. Goodnight Friday."

"Goodnight ," she said as the lock to Buck's door clicked in place.

Thanks for making my day! -tigpop, SpringLetters, Jhessill, singbrina , IsChickenRoastedOrToasted