MCU (c) Marvel Studios

You don't have to love me; there's one thing you should know, my love will not unravel, it's unconditional, my indigo. Even when the heart won't it let show, you don't have say, to let me know, my indigo... — My Indigo

The hum of the machines, the babble of the workers, Wanda's excited squeal as Vision drifted over to her. The vaulted ceiling of the hanger bay felt too high and he was too small. He stared at Natasha, leaning back against his clasped hands, her hands on his board chest. She was staring at him waiting for him to say something — anything. The silence between them was getting uncomfortable. He couldn't believe it. She loved him. She loved him. And he…

She sucked her tongue. "Well, I—"

"Nat, I love you too, but—"

"Oh good," she said and grabbed his face again for another kiss, but he pulled away, placing his hands on her shoulders. He focused on his breathing. He liked the feel of Natasha's lips on his, but now wasn't the time for kisses. No matter how much he wanted to kiss her. "Steve?"

"What's gotten into you?" he asked. "You leave weeks ago and then you show up here in Wakanda, professing you love me?" He rubbed his face with both hands. He felt like everything was spirally out of control. One moment they were shy and hesitant, an almost; now, they had put the pedal to the metal and going full speed into a relationship. It made his head spin. "This… this is a little much." He put his hands back on her shoulders, squeezing them. "I thought you wanted to apologize." There was so much he wanted to tell her. Bucky told him that he should be a bit more selfish, but how could he when there were so many more people that needed him. Bucky also told him Peggy would want him to live his life, but how could he live his life with someone else when he never got a chance to live it with her? He felt conscious of people staring at them. He wondered if the Wakandans knew that Natasha attacked their king.

He heard shouts, and the workers parted to make way for T'Challa and his entourage; Sam, Wanda, Vision and Bucky following behind the royal procession. The tall woman, Okoye came and pushed passed him, grabbing Natasha's wrist. "Hey, let go of me!" she swung her other fist, but Okoye caught it, kicking Natasha's legs to off balance her and forcing her to the ground. She yanked Natasha's head back by her hair as T'Challa walked up. Natasha thrashed, trying to break free. Okoye was stronger than she looked, able to maintain her hold on Natasha's hair and her grip on both of Natasha's wrists.

"Try anything and you'll regret it," she hissed. Natasha lips peeled back in a snarl, jerking as she tried to get free. Steve looked from the two women to T'Challa. The king had an impassive expression on his face, hands clasped behind his back. He glanced around once at the staring workers before settling his gaze on him.

"Let her go," Steve said, he swallowed as his hands balled into fists. He thought his willingness to allow Natasha in would defuse any lingering resentment. "Please." He felt Bucky and the others gather behind him. It was comforting to know he had friends at his back, but it would be impossible to fight through the entire Wakandan military, and Bucky couldn't leave.

"She opposed me, violated the Accords… twice," T'Challa said, gesturing to Natasha. "You make it very hard for anyone to trust you, Miss Romanoff." He paced before her, the unreadable expression never leaving his face. Steve ground his teeth, trying to figure out a way to defuse the situation before it got dicey.

"Kinda my thing — call off your wonder woman, T'Challa!" Natasha snarled.

"You will show the King of Wakanda, respect," Okoye growled, jerking Natasha's hair a bit more.

"I could call Secretary Ross," T'Challa said, rubbing his chin. Steve swallowed, unsure if the king's threat was real or not.

"Ross already had a little chat with me about that after everything happened — ow! — you'll regret that!" Natasha glared at Okoye. "I'm here because Steve said he may be here," she said.

"You are in no position to be making threats," Okoye said. She huffed. He growled, Wanda, Vision and Sam shifting behind him; Bucky was hanging back, watching everything. Natasha shrugged but Okoye's grip remained firm.

"She's with me," he said, looking at T'Challa. "She's with me and under my protection. I trust her." He unclenched his fists to show he was not going to attack, but he kept his body tense, ready to spring at a moment's notice. He had studied T'Challa's style during the spar, and he wasn't foolish enough to think T'Challa hadn't done the same. But even Tony needed FRIDAY to analyze his movements in order to counter him.

"She is in my country," T'Challa replied. "You are asking me to protect her, and I don't know if I can trust her." He glared at her and said something to Okoye. She let go of Natasha's hair and he grabbed her wrist. A collective hush fell over the hanger bay, only the sound of machinery and the waterfall outside the hanger bay doors echoed in the spacious hanger bay. All eyes were on the king and the small band of foreigners.

"Hurt her," he said, eyes chips of ice, "and it will end badly" — he looked at T'Challa — "I don't want to fight. We are all on the same side. I trust her." He didn't let go of Okoye's wrist. "You trust me, don't you?"

"I do," T'Challa said, pensive. Natasha snarled at him, venom in her gaze. Steve wished she'd back down, just this once and used diplomacy to get herself out of the situation. But then again, if she had done that, she wouldn't be the Natasha he knew and loved.

"Then trust me," he said, "you're offering Bucky asylum, as well as myself." T'Challa nodded, clasping his hands behind his back once more. Steve moved further between them without letting go of Okoye's wrist; the Wakandans muttered anxiously amongst themselves.

Vision pulled Wanda away, Sam followed suit; the workers began to crowd around as tempers rose. A keg of powder waiting for the spark. He didn't know if he could fight off T'Challa and his bodyguards if things came to blows. He didn't want to either, he liked T'Challa and felt he was a reasonable man. "I trust her," Bucky said, walking up. He pushed through the small crowd to the heart. He looked at them, Okoye barked a laugh, showing off sharp white teeth. "I trust her." Bucky stood at Natasha's other side, his hand on her shoulder.

Steve frowned. "Bucky, I got this," he said. "I appreciate the offer but, Natasha is here because of me."

"Eto bogato, prishedsheye ot vas i ostayushcheyesya vne etogo," Natasha growled, glaring at Bucky as she shrugged his hand off her shoulder. The Winter Soldier seemed unphased by her hostility. Steve looked between the two of them, surprised Bucky understood Russian in the first place.

"Net. Ya vse ravno dolzhen tebe za Leningrad," Bucky said. Natasha snarled at him, trying to break free of Okoye's grip to lunge at Bucky. His friend took a step back but didn't seem to be too afraid of Natasha. The warrior woman yanked her down.

"When did you learn Russian, Bucky?" he asked, staring, slack-jawed. Bucky ignored him.

"Ne prinosite eto, osobenno pered Steve," she said, glaring at Bucky. He had no idea what she said, but it involved him in some way. "Ya lyublyu yego, i to, chto u nas bylo, zakonchilos'. Znayesh' chto. Tak chto ne podnimite nashe proshloye pered Steve, Bucky."

Bucky snorted, rolling his eyes and he got the impression that Bucky and Natasha knew each other more than what Natasha had originally told him when he came to kill him and Fury. He'd have to ask her about that later. "Nat—"

"Da, ya znayu, no tebe vse ravno nuzhno skazat' yemu, Natasha," Bucky cut him off. Natasha flushed and looked away from him.

"Mne ne nuzhna vasha pomoshch'," she grumbled.

"Otkuda ya stoyu, ty delayesh'." Bucky said. "Kak i v Leningrad." His statement brought her glare back to him. She spat at his feet.

"Idi k chertu!"

Bucky snorted, "Net."

Steve cleared his throat, confused about the entire thing. "Your Majesty, both Bucky and I trust her," he said and looked at Sam, who also nodded as did Wanda. "You can let he go now."

"I do not take orders from you," Okoye hissed, her eyes narrowed to slits.

"If I may intervene?" Vision said. "Miss Romanoff did not seek me out or nor did I leave my previous location in an effort to capture her and return her to the United States. She is trustworthy, Your Majesty. Mr. Rogers had informed her when they parted ways approximately six weeks earlier, that he may be here."

"I see," T'Challa said, "very well." He looked at Natasha. "Welcome to Wakanda, Miss Romanoff."

Steve let go of Okoye's wrist as T'Challa gave the woman a nod. Once free Natasha lunged for Bucky, but he grabbed her and pulled her into his chest, wrapping her up in his arms. She growled.

"Steve let go of me, I need to show that malen'kiy ublyudok some manners about meddling in other people's business!" she growled, thrashing about, which only caused him to tighten his grip on her.

"That… that… he's my friend!" he said. "And I want you two to get along."

"I'll play nice," Bucky said. "Skazhi yemu Natasha." At that Natasha screamed, straining with all her might against his embrace, hellbent on hurting Bucky. Steve swallowed, wondering what Bucky and Natasha were talking about. Natasha glared at him, shouting at him again in Russian. Bucky snorted in amusement. He knitted his brows, flummoxed; something was going on between Natasha and Bucky and all he was concern about was when did Bucky learn Russian.

"Nat, calm down. Nobody is going to hurt you and you are not going to hurt Bucky," he said, lips brushing her ear. Her hair smelled of raspberries and mint. He bit back a soft groan, he missed the smell of her and even holding her in his arms like this made him think improper thoughts about taking a shower with her or snuggling in bed with her. Then Peggy's smile slipped into his mind and all thoughts of Natasha vanished. He huffed. "I'm going to let you go now."

"Yeah, yeah." She pulled free once his grip slackened but she didn't attack anyone. She folded her arms beneath her breasts, he glanced at her breasts and his gazed lingered for a heartbeat too long as his mind began to wander. "Steve." Her voice cut through his thoughts like a knife and he looked up at her, cheeks and ears a bright pink. She dropped her arms, rolling her eyes. "Muzhchiny." She jerked her head towards T'Challa.

"Sorry," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his head and looking away. He never was that rude as to stare unabashed at a woman's breasts. Even with Peggy, he was never that uncouth. He wondered if the 21st Century was starting to get to him. Manners had taken a nose dive during his time in the ice.

"Steve," T'Challa said, "as she is with you, she'll be staying in your suite of rooms. In the bedroom down the hall."

"Oh, thank you. I appreciate that." He looked at Natasha. The workers peeled off to go back to work; Sam, Vision and Wanda came back now that the danger had passed. She smiled at the king and T'Challa gave her a solemn nod.

"Wonder how long it'll take before she's in his bed every night?" Sam muttered, loud enough for Steve to hear. His ears went pink again.

"Sam," Wanda chastised.

"Twenty bucks says it's less than twenty-four hours," Bucky said, a cocky lopsided smirk on his face.

"Fifty and you have yourself a deal," Sam said and held out his hand, Bucky bobbed his head from side to side before grabbing Sam's hand.

"Deal."

"Wanda," Vision began, "are they placing wagers on how soon Mr. Rogers and Miss Romanoff will have sexual intimacy?"

"Vision!" Wanda gasped, her cheeks going from pink to white to pink again. "We don't talk about that stuff out loud!" she fixed Sam and Bucky with a glare.

"Do you wish to engage in coital activities with me? Even though I lack the proper anatomical structures for such things?" Vision asked.

Wanda froze, going completely red. "Enough questions, Viz. Come, I need to explain to you about social norms and proper manners when it comes to erm… bedroom activities." She led the robotic man off. He could only stare at the three of them, his eyes sliding over to look at Natasha, who was chewing on a nail appearing oblivious to the entire thing. The flush crept up his neck again and he tried to ignore the fact that his pants had become a bit uncomfortable.

"I'm sure Natasha would like to go to her room and get cleaned up," Steve said, trying to get out of the awkward situation before he or his friends could make it anymore awkward. He started to think about things that didn't involve Natasha, which suddenly seemed nigh impossible to do. He finally settled on imagining his old colonel in one of the Captain America Girls' outfits singing the stupid Star Spangle Banner Man song. It seemed to be working. "I'm sorry about earlier." He smiled at T'Challa, the king seemed to have ignored the entire bit with Vision.

"It is understandable. You would not be Captain America without being loyal to your friends," T'Challa said and looked over at Natasha. "And I hope your judgement is well placed." The two shared a look, and he couldn't tell if it was thinly veiled animosity or some understanding between them.

Natasha arched a brow, pinning him with a glare. He swallowed conjuring the mental imagine of his colonel again. "It is," he said. "C'mon Nat, I'll show you to our suite of rooms."

Natasha closed her eyes allowing the warm water to cascade over her. It was one of those fancy waterfall showers and it felt amazing after months on the road with sporadic bathing. She took her time, pampering herself beneath the warm water. Once out, she rubbed her body with an unscented lotion and toweled her hair. She felt human again; she wrung her hair out again with the towel before mussing it. Wet locks fell down, curling about her face. She was in Wakanda. She told Steve how she felt, and he did too — in a way (she got the feeling he was holding back). Now they just had to figure out their next move, both as a team and as a couple. She smiled, she and Steve were a couple, the fact alone sent a tiny thrill along her spine. I wonder how he is in bed?

Bucky and Sam had been placing bets on that very topic and she was unsure who she wanted to win. Maybe she'll hold out and jump Steve's bones after the forty-eight-hour mark, just to watch them groan at how she thwarted their plans. "Natasha?" a soft knock sounded on the door. Sam may win after all; this was the bathroom connected to Steve's room. He had generously offered up his bathroom when she made a comment about being covered in grime. Plus, she had a feeling he wanted her to be close.

"I'll be out in a minute," she said, tossing the towel into the hamper and putting on some clean clothes. She didn't know how the palace staff got flowy pants and a light top that fit her on such short notice, but she wasn't going to question it. Once dressed she opened the door; Steve was barefoot, dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt, his normal collared button-down shirt was open, his t-shirt was fitting enough that she didn't need to imagine what was underneath.

She had always found him physically desirable, but now, coupled with her love for him, she found him irresistible. A seductive gleam sparkled in her eyes and she licked her lips, knowing Steve's eyes followed the tip of her pink tongue. He shook himself, realizing what he was doing and looked away with an awkward cough. "Um."

She walked passed him to the window. "Impressive view," she said, watching the jungle. "Weirdest thing you seen on your window?"

"A giant spider." He shuddered, joining her. "I didn't… care for that too much."

She glanced at him, watching him reach for her shoulder, think better of it, and shoved his hand into his pocket. "Your beard got thicker."

"I need to get it trimmed. It's getting annoying," he said, scratching at it. She smiled. "O-Of course if you like it, I can keep it."

"Maybe trim it up a bit, maintain it." She threw her shoulders back. "But it looks nice. Like your hair, too." It'll give me something to hold to during sex. She gave him a wry grin. He gave her a tiny smile in exchange. She heard him sit on the bed.

"Nat… what are you doing here?" he asked. "I thought— when you left… I thought I'll never see you again."

She turned to face him. It was moments like this when the persona of Captain America fell away and beneath it was Steve Rogers, a kid from Brooklyn. Despite his apollonian physique and herculean strength, Steve could be so incredibly human. It was something that drew her to him; his humility. She walked to him, her knees wedging his apart as she wrapped her arms around his head, allowing him to rest his cheek against her stomach and wrap his arms around her thighs. She ran her hands through his hair, the tension leaving his shoulders. "You can be such a puppy sometimes," she teased. He gave a grunt and hugged her tighter. "I came back."

"I know but why."

"Because I love you," she said, smiling. It felt nice saying it aloud, even nicer that it was to him. She lifted his chin, so he could look at him. "I love you, Steve."

He was silent for several long moments. She almost worried he didn't love her back. "Natasha, I… us… we…" he licked his lips. She frowned, unsure why he was balking. Doubt began to creep up her spine. Maybe she had misread his body language. She wasn't used to making mistakes — reading people was her bread and butter — but sometimes it did happen.

"Steve, I… don't you love me too?" she asked. He said it in the hanger bay. She tried to prepare herself for his rejection on the flight to Wakanda, but never in her wildest dreams would she expect Captain America to reject her. "Steve?"

"What was that about? Between you and Bucky?" he asked. She frowned, pulling away from him. She glared and returned to the window. "Nat," he joined her again, "he stuck his neck out for you. Which is odd considering you two have both tried to kill each other." He didn't touch her. She wasn't watching the jungle, but rather she was thinking about that time in St. Petersburg (it still amused her that Bucky called it Leningrad, even though the name was changed in '91). The mission had taken a turn for the worse, he had shown up and saved her. That night she had shown him just how thankful she was to him for saving her life — physically. It was a sensation she'd never forget, the feel of his hands on her body: one flesh, one metal; one warm, one cold. Their romance lasted a few months, it was brief, passionate and somehow there was still a spark between them. Well… on Bucky's end at least, she couldn't deny that she caught the flash of jealousy in his eyes. She sucked on her tongue.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, not looking at Steve. "The only time I've ever seen Bucky was when he tried to kill me. And then he tried to kill us."

"Okay, then how does he know Russian?"

"He was controlled by the Russian branch of Hydra, you read his file." She turned to face him then. "Steve, I don't want to talk about Bucky. There is nothing going on between us. Nothing has gone between us. I love you."

"If you love me, you'd be honest with me."

"Oh, like you've been honest with me," she said, glaring at him. He had been honest with her. "You still love her, don't you," she said, her tone accusatory. His flinch was all she needed to confirm it. To her surprise, she wasn't upset, in fact she understood. Peggy Carter was his first love, and even though she was dead, a part of Steve will always be with her.

"We never needed to discuss past relationships before Natasha, because us being in a relationship was never on the table," he said. She swallowed, damn he was sexy when he was ticked off. It reminded her of that time he caught her at the hospital and had shoved her against the wall. If they weren't running from Hydra, she would have probably tried to seduce him. "I thought… I thought that was clear."

"Well life is a game changer," she said, tossing some hair over her shoulder. She'll need to cut it again and do another color treatment. "Why are you hesitating now Steve? Back in Armenia you were—"

"I don't know," he said, shoulders slumping as the anger left him. He glanced out at the jungle, studying the reflections in the glass. "I guess I gave up when you left. I never thought… you'd come back."

She cupped his cheek, his beard wiry beneath her hand, she ran her thumb along his cheekbone, smiling as he leaned into her touch. "I'm here now," she said, "I came back."

He took his hand from her cheek. "I know." He kissed her palm, running his thumb along her hand. "I know and I'm thankful."

"But?" she gave him an imploring look. Don't break my heart, Steve, I'd hate to have to kill you. She gave him a hopeful look, wanting him to go one. He closed her hand, squeezing her fingers.

"I need some time to think." He pulled away from her. "I'm sorry, Nat."

"Oh." She took a step back. "Steve—" she exhaled sharply, clenching and unclenching her fists. "I—"

His eyes grew wide and a series of unintelligent stammers fell from his lips. "Natasha, I love you… but I need time to think about us." He took her shoulders and she looked at him, the sincerity in his blue eyes was a little much. "I'm not sure if… this is the right time for a relationship. I need to think about that."

"Oh." She blinked, she felt mollified but only a bit. It still stung. A half-rejection was still a rejection in a sense. "I see." She gave him her best seductress smile, trailing her hand along his chest. "I may be able to convince you otherwise." She watched his breath catch in his throat, but he grabbed her hand and kissed each one of her fingertips, eyes smoldering like the noonday sky on a cloudless day. Her mouth was dry, legs weak and her womanhood moist.

"No." He smiled at her and she bit back a groan. He stepped back, and she watched him go.

The Russian translation (I'm not about to ask my brother to translate dialogue for a fanfic, so sorry for anything being off)

That's rich coming from you and stay of out of this. – Eto bogato, prishedsheye ot vas i ostayushcheyesya vne etogo.

No. I owe you for Leningrad anyway. – Net. Ya vse ravno dolzhen tebe za Leningrad

Don't bring that up, especially in front of Steve – Ne prinosite eto, osobenno pered Steve

I love him, and what we had is over now. You know that. So don't bring up our past in front of Steve, Bucky – Ya lyublyu yego, i to, chto u nas bylo, zakonchilos'. Znayesh' chto. Tak chto ne podnimite nashe proshloye pered Steve, Bucky.

Yes, I know but you still need to tell him, Natasha – Da, ya znayu, no tebe vse ravno nuzhno skazat' yemu, Natasha

I don't need your help – Mne ne nuzhna vasha pomoshch'

From where I'm standing you do – Otkuda ya stoyu, ty delayesh'

Kak i v Leningrade. – Just like that time in Leningrad.

Go to hell. – Idi k chertu!

Tell him Natasha. – Skazhi yemu

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Nemo et Nihil

PS: Fixed somethings.

Next chapter: Something Wild