A/N: Spoiler alert for Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Avengers: Age of Ultron, and Captain America: Civil War.

As always, many thanks go out to CapriceAnn Hedican-Kocur for the Beta and Winter-Soldier-88 for the brainstorming.

Note 1: I know it's been a while since this story was updated, but it couldn't be helped. Not only is my muse a fickle little scamp, my family has been experiencing a great deal of emotional turmoil that may not get better any time soon. Such is RL.

Note 2: This story is being revamped. Some scenes will be removed completely. Others will be changed to better conform to the MCU movies. Also, parts 2 and 3 will be eliminated and the chapters posted all under one title.

Namaste,

Sunny

"I will come back to you, I swear I will;
And you will know me still.
I shall be only a little taller
Than when I went."

― Edna St. Vincent Millay, The Harp-Weaver and Other Poems

Winter Soldier

And You Will Know Me Still

Chapter 20

Leaning against the side of the car, Steve looked at his watch for the fifth time in less than fifteen minutes. Maria had missed their rendezvous. Their plans were fluid so it wasn't a big deal. At least it hadn't been until the thirty-minute mark had passed. He tried calling and got voicemail. That meant the phone was turned off or she was on another call. He sent a text that likewise went unanswered.

Annoyed and a little concerned, Steve headed back to the hospital. Most of the crowd had dispersed, gone off to post on social media, no doubt. As he got close, he heard laughter. Maria's mixed with the deeper tones of a male.

Standing in the shadows made by the rising sun, Steve watched Maria flirting with an attractive fireman. At some point, she'd altered her appearance just as she'd done that day at the diner when she'd conned a rich guy into giving her money and stole his credit card.

He loved her laugh, the real deal. However, the sounds coming out of her mouth now were nothing like that. To someone who knew the difference, it sounded forced. And the guy was eating it up.

Taking the ball cap from his pocket, he pulled it low over his eyes and stepped out into the street still blocked off by police. Not knowing what name she'd given, he couldn't call out, opting for the old stand-by: a whistle.

The fireman and Maria turned at the same time, a smile lighting up her face. She waved, briefly clasped the fireman's hand and hurried over. Steve nodded at the fireman now speaking to an older woman with a radio. "What's that?"

She turned and walked away from the scene, her smile only just there. "Gathering intel. Dex and I had a nice long talk about the explosion and fire."

"Yeah. That's what I thought," Steve deadpanned.

"Jealous?"

Now he smirked to let her know he wasn't serious. "Should I be?"

Pursing her lips without responding to the banter, Maria continued. "Someone in the city's private sector 'suggested' the investigation be wrapped PDQ or they'd be doing time in the unemployment line. That's why the battalion chief's here, to ride their asses. Figured you'd want to check it out. We can catch breakfast at the diner on Indian Hills and hang out until they're done around noonish."

"Sounds like a plan." He tossed her the keys. "You're driving." Maria caught them in her right hand, unlocked the doors and got behind the wheel. Before buckling her seatbelt, she took a hair tie from her pocket and started gathering the long strands into a ponytail. Steve stopped her by taking the elastic. "Please don't."

"Why?"

To give his request additional force, Steve ran his fingers through her hair and shamelessly employed what Natasha called his puppy face. "I like it down."

"I prefer it up." She mock scowled at him, grabbing for the tie. He held it out of her reach using the other hand to crank the window down so he could fling it into the bushes. She huffed at him. "That was my last one."

Turning to face front, Steve crossed his arms satisfied that he'd gotten his way. "Good."

~~O~~

As Natasha and James turned to go, the sound of boots pounding on pavement preceded gunfire as the HYDRA squad closed in on them. They broke into a run, ducking around the corner of a brick building advertising renovations and remodeling. The outside was covered in grime to the point that Natasha could barely see through the windows. With her back pressed against the wall, she peeked around the corner. They weren't getting out that way.

She took out the Makarovs and checked the magazine. Her back to the building, she crept toward the front and stuck her head out, albeit briefly. Her boldness earned her another round of gunfire that chipped the brick sending piece flying through the air. One hit James on the cheek, though he didn't appear to notice. She already knew his tolerance for pain was high, but that just seemed wrong.

The shooting stopped, replaced by the jangling of the chain link fence as the squad climbed to the top, using their jackets to cover the razor wire.

With the men otherwise occupied, Natasha took advantage and sighted on the ones facing them. She squeezed off several shots, all going wild when James swept his left arm around and up to divert her aim. His right hand wrapped around the barrel of the weapon. She hit him with one of her best death glares, and a scathing remark he'd likely not understand on the tip of her tongue that went unsaid. Tugging to free herself did no good. Leaning close, he whispered, "No more killing."

Her eyes searched his face, seeing only that same fierceness he'd displayed in their fight. "You're showing mercy to people who wouldn't hesitate to kill us where we stand?"

"Someone has to be the first to lay down their weapons."

Reluctantly, Natasha put away the Makarov. "What do you suggest?"

"How many of the…" he made a small circle with his thumb and forefinger indicating the silver disc she'd used on him during their fight, "…do you have?"

One side of her mouth curled in a smile. "How many do you need?"

They switched places. He peeked out and back, taking the question literally instead of the rhetoric she meant it to be. "Nine."

Delving into her a pocket, Natasha dropped a handful into his palm. "Won't stop them from coming after us."

"We just need time to get away." He jiggled the discs in his right hand, gauging the distance.

Natasha joined him, her back brushing against his chest. She tilted her head back to see his face. "What if you miss?"

"I don't miss."

He was right. He was also wrong. They stood a better chance of his plan succeeding if they worked together. Taking his hand, she reclaimed several of the discs. "Team effort."

With a nod, he conceded. Together, they mentally counted, and on three, burst from their hiding place, stopping at the edge of the paved single lane road. There were shouts from the squad. Two were already starting down the near side, another three had reached the top and the others were at various levels of the climb. Holding on with one hand, they attempted to bring their weapons to bear. Before they could get off even one shot, Natasha and James flung the stingers at the squad, hitting each one unerringly. They shook at the electrical discharge, falling to the ground, unconscious. Those higher on the fence landed on their colleagues with a dull thud. One man fell forward onto the jackets covering the razor wire.

They crossed the street and Natasha put out her hand for a fist bump. James looked at her confused. "It's a gesture of celebration or greeting between two people…" he wasn't getting it. "It's like a handshake."

James looked at his hands, turning them over to examine the palms. Then, after a small pause, he curled his right hand into a fist and gently touched hers. "That's it?"

"Pretty much." Turning away, Natasha had taken a few steps when she realized he hadn't followed. "Barnes?"

He crouched next the man, grabbed the front of his shirt, shaking until he woke. The man blinked up at him, fear in his eyes when he saw who it was. "Tell them to stop looking for me," he told the man in Spanish.

The fear was replaced by contempt as the team leader responded in the same language. "The only message they're concerned with is when I tell them you're in custody, Asset."

The man grunted when James jerked him closer. "I am not the Asset!"

"You're what HYDRA made you to be. A remorseless assassin. That's all you'll ever be, Asset."

Natasha stepped into sight, also speaking Spanish. "You know me, what I'm capable of."

Still lying on the ground, the man snorted. "The Black Widow. Not living up to your rep, querida."

Eyes narrowed in anger, her voice took on a dangerous note. "I could've killed you without a second's remorse. Almost did."

"What stopped you?"

She pointed her chin at James, his expression unreadable as he released the man and stood. "He did. Still think he's nothing but a killer?"

Without waiting for an answer, Natasha hit the man with another stinger, turned her back and stomped away from the scene with quick, angry steps. She was a quarter mile away when she saw that James had followed her and she hadn't felt his presence.

~~O~~

Only mildly annoyed with Steve, Maria stared out the windshield watching the sky lighten as the sun made its upward trek, turning the horizon-what she could see of it-a lemon yellow mixed with orange. She admitted, only to herself, that she'd seldom taken time to appreciate the little things like sunrises, sunsets and the stars until she met Steve. He was the type of man who made you want to be the best version of yourself. Perhaps it had to do with how his life had begun. The little guy, always getting beat up, underappreciated and often passed over, all because of his size. Truthfully, it was his outward appearance that first attracted her. Then, she got to know him as a person.

On those occasions where she was required to attend debriefings without actively participating, Maria would sit at the back of the room with her eyes closed, listening to his voice. She found that eliminating the visual element gave her a very different perspective on the super-soldier. Women stared as he walked by, seldom looking beyond the surface. With her eyes shut, she was better able to appreciate Steve for his mind. She marveled at his intelligence, compassion, and generosity of spirit that were integral parts of his core personality. Maria envied Peggy Carter for having known him before he'd become Captain America.

A hand touched Maria's shoulder and she swung around, prepared to take the person's head off with her bare hands. See that it was Steve, she sagged in relief.

"You okay?"

"Of course." She turned her attention to the road ahead giving her something more to focus on than Steve's intense not-staring.

With it being a week day, traffic had already gotten heavier making them less conspicuous. She pulled into the left lane and signaled for a turn onto Indian Hills, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. Steve placed a hand over hers, and this time she didn't try to take him out. "Ready to have this over, Steve."

He relaxed into his seat, the left arm resting on the back so that he was turned slightly toward her. It felt like he was questioning her sanity, and he'd be right to. Since the incident in D.C., Maria felt like her life would never get back to normal.

Until the rebuilding of the country's intelligence infrastructure was complete, Stark had given her a position within Stark Industries. One for which she was required to travel extensively as a cover for long absences. She reported only to Pepper Potts, and Stark. Partial funding for the Avengers' and SHIELD's activities came directly from SI.

Signaling a right turn, Maria pulled into the parking lot of the diner and parked as far from the street as possible. She and Steve got out, the doors were locked and she held out the keys for him to take. He gestured for her to go ahead then fell into step with her.

They chose a table in the back where they could see all the exits, ordered their meals and settled into a companionable silence. To Maria, that said more about what they felt for each other than anything else. Talking was easy. Silence itself was a form of speech, and if two people could create a connection without speaking, then a firmer bond would be formed between them because the relationship didn't rely merely on physical attraction. That brought her back to her previous reflections, and the conclusion that had she met skinny Steve, as he called his former self, she still would've been drawn to him because of his mind.

Steve touched her hand. "Ready to go?"

Nodding, she picked up her cap and pushed out the door into the morning light while Steve paid the tab. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly, her mind going back to their reason for being here.

He joined her a moment later, taking her hand with a smile. "Let's take a walk."

With some men, that phrase would be a ruse to look for a way to get a woman alone so he could initiate sex. She didn't have to worry that he had ulterior motives. When Steve Rogers said walk, he meant it. "Sure."

Releasing her hand, he took her cap and put it on her head. "Don't forget your disguise."

~~O~~

James and Natasha had been walking the streets of Brooklyn for hours, and most of that time his companion had spent with her eyes glued to the phone in her hand. They were in an older part of the city where many of the small businesses were either shuttered, empty, or had been replaced by larger similar stores. He'd needed somewhere to hide, and had seen many places that would do for the short term. However, each suggestion was met with a firm no. And as much as he hoped to see something that would spark a memory, little was familiar. He again wondered if he would ever remember the before time.

At every alley, he would stop and stare, searching and listening, but for what, he couldn't recall. Once, a small blip of memory showed itself to him. A skinny young man wielding a trash can lid like a shield. He tried to hold onto the memory, but it slipped away. He didn't mention it to Natasha. If he did, what would it accomplish? There was no way for her to help him reclaim a past of which she hadn't been a part. Steve was the only one who could do that.

Apartment buildings loomed in front of them. As they approached, James came to a stop, staring up at a strange sight. One side had been painted in bright colors. The images were bizarre distortions of different aspects of modern day life. He didn't find it at all appealing. It was grotesque and ludicrous.

There had to be something admirable here as well. He just had to find it. Maybe that's why Natasha had brought him here.

~~O~~

With every minute, the number of people walking the streets of Brooklyn increased until there were so many, that Steve sometimes had to swerve around those looking at their phones rather than where they were going. He could've been a jerk like the others, but that's not how he'd been raised. Living in the most aggressive city in the world, Mom insisted that her only child learn and use manners. Just because everyone else was rude, didn't mean he had to be.

They'd walked about a half mile when Maria relaxed enough to hold his arm. If he didn't know her as well as he did, he would've thought she was embarrassed by their earlier conversation. Instead, he preferred to put it down to her stoic nature, though that had changed since D.C. They'd all been changed by the chaos brought on the world by HYDRA.

Steve turned the corner and stopped near an old movie theater.

Maria looked around. "Where are we?"

He pointed at the marquee that had once shown classic films of the day. But that had been a long time ago. The building was boarded up, the front and side covered in graffiti. Litter blown by the wind pressed up against doors shuttered by bars and padlocks. Broken glass in a variety of colors was scattered behind the ticket booth. "Bucky and I came here every Saturday when we were kids to watch the serials and movies when we were older. Then, when the US entered the war, they began showing short films intended to encourage young men to join up. The first time I tried to enlist, we went together. Bucky was accepted right away, of course."

Taking her hand, Steve drew her to the alley, pointing to where it dead ended at a dumpster. "I got beat up in this alley more times than I can count, and Bucky always came to my rescue. The last time was a few days before he shipped out in '43. After he saved my bacon again, we went on a double date to the Stark Expo."

"Where you met Dr. Erskine." Maria's eyes held a touch of sadness for the death of a man he'd known such a short time, and that he still thought of as a mentor. She blinked and it was gone, replaced with a glimmer of mischief. "Ever bring a date here?"

Hands in his pockets, Steve shrugged self-consciously. "Once. It didn't go well. Bucky and I were on another double date. She barely spoke to me except when she wanted popcorn or a drink."

"No kiss good night?"

"She thanked Bucky for a good time, ran up the stairs and slammed the door."

He took her hand when she held it out, letting her drag him down the alley to the back door. It too was barred and padlocked. "You should have at least one good memory of this place before it falls apart."

Glancing around, Steve saw that they were alone. No cameras were in sight. That didn't mean they wouldn't be seen, but he was willing to take the chance. He twisted the lock until it broke, swung the bars out, and did the same to the door. Maria hurried inside and he followed, making sure both doors were closed.

Steve's eyes quickly adjusted to the dim light of the hallway, and only his grip on Maria's hand kept her from falling when she tripped on a hump in the rug. Tattered curtains covered the doorway. Using the back of his hand, Steve held the dusty material out of the way so they could pass into the theater.

The seating area wasn't as badly degraded as the hallway. Still, everything was covered in dust and dirt and who knew what else. He wrinkled his nose at the musty smell of disuse. "We always sat in the middle seats of the center section about halfway up."

"Optimal viewing position." Maria headed up the ramp and into the concession area. Here, the damage was much worse. All the equipment was broken, by squatters or by the staff when they were let go, there was no way to know.

"I'm not going anywhere near the men's room."

"Double for the ladies."

Sad that a cherished memory hadn't panned out, Steve leaned over to look behind the counter and wished he hadn't. "How do I get a good memory from this?"

Maria took his hand again and lead him into the projection room. Film canisters lay on all available counter space. Some even had rolls of celluloid film in them, dry and cracked with age, the labels too faded to read. Two straight backed chairs had been pushed into a corner. Of everything they'd seen so far, they seem to have weathered the passing of time better than anything else. They dragged the chairs into the open area next to the projector and placed them side by side. She took off her jacket, draping it over the back. Steve followed her lead, sitting when she did. "What-"

Again, that mischievous smile. "There isn't a man on earth who hasn't fantasized about making out in the back row of a movie theater."

Before Steve could do more than open his mouth, Maria slung both legs over his lap, her small hands coming up to frame his face and urge him down for a kiss. It didn't take much persuasion because he was more than ready to indulge his imagination. He slid his arms around her, one hand on her hip and the other slithering under the edge of her top. The moment he touched her skin, Maria made a sound in the back of her throat. His thoughts became jumbled as her hand trailed down the side of his neck and over his collarbone, her nails scrapping down his chest. Steve moved his hands to her waist, lifted and turned her until she was sitting astride his lap, her knees clenched against his sides.

~~O~~

Taking Maspeth Avenue west, Natasha and James kept to the shadows created by the rising sun. Casting a quick glance at James to get a read on him, she found him staring at the ground. He would look up for a few seconds, then back at the ground, his head turned slightly toward her. It only took a few moments to realize that he was doing so each time they approached a camera. He also made certain to block the cameras from catching her image. If she was seen at all, only someone who knew her well would be able to make the identification. "How do you know where the cameras are?"

For the first time since they'd gone on the run he looked right at her, his left hand coming up. At some point he'd put on a glove. "When I'm near certain types of electronic equipment, I can feel it."

"A little low-tech for HYDRA." He shoved the hand into his jacket pocket, self-consciously, it seemed, as if he were ashamed of his prosthesis. Natasha took the hint and dropped the subject.

Within a few minutes, they came to a street filled with shops, all closed. They ducked into an alley when a police car cruised by. The driver didn't even slow down, only going through the motions of protecting the neighborhood.

When the cruiser had gone, Natasha returned to the sidewalk. James hadn't joined her, and she found him still standing in their hiding place behind a dumpster, his eyes taking in every dark corner. A rat scuttled away, though he didn't notice. Natasha came back to his side. "Looking for something? Or someone?"

He inhaled, exhaled and turned to go. "Not sure."

"This way." They fell into step together. James glanced over his shoulder at the alley one last time. Now that she thought about it, he'd done it at every alley they passed, his eyebrows meeting over his nose as if he were trying to work out a complex puzzle without knowing any of the variables.

A few blocks further down, Natasha stopped in front of a shuttered storefront to wait for it to open. Her stomach grumbled and as if it were answering a mating call, James's did as well. Turning in a circle, she found several food carts setting up just down the street. She pulled a twenty from her pocket and nodded for him to follow. "What's your pleasure, Barnes? It's on me."

She could tell he was hungry, but didn't care what he ate. A few minutes later, they were sitting at a picnic table and James was staring at the tray in front of him as if he thought she were trying to poison him.

"It's a burrito, Barnes. Try it."

She added a spoonful of fresh salsa to hers, picked it up and took a huge bite. James looked down at his left hand. He glanced around, but no one appeared to be paying attention. Slowly, he removed the glove and set it aside. He seemed self-conscious, but whether it was because of his hand, he was uncomfortable in a social setting, felt exposed here in the open or something else, Natasha would puzzle out later.

James started eating, shoulders hunched as if he thought someone would take the food from him, giving his full attention to the act of chewing, savoring each bite. Returning the burrito to the tray, he picked up his glass, giving it a sniff before drinking. It wasn't anything special, just a fountain cola with ice.

Natasha wiped her mouth and picked up her drink, just holding it. "Wanna talk?"

His eyes met hers, but just for a moment. In that brief space of time, she felt his fear and self-loathing. Shaking his head, he dropped the uneaten portion on the tray and pushed it away. He finished off his drink then Natasha tossed the trash and pulled out her phone to check the time. They still had forty-five minutes until the shop opened.

As James started to replace the glove, Natasha stopped him by pressing a hand over his metal one, silently telling him that no one would notice, or if they did, wouldn't say anything.

He could communicate so much with body language, and his was telling her to back off. She did, after a quick squeeze to let him know she was there for him if he changed his mind. He didn't acknowledge her effort except to put the glove on.

~~O~~

The sun was high in the sky when Maria and Steve left the theater. She went to the mouth of the alley, watching the crowds go by, not as annoyed by the mass of humanity as she had been earlier. In fact, she felt pretty good. She might even go as far saying she felt fantastic.

Steve came up beside her, hands in his pockets, staring into the distance. Turning to the side, she watched him inhale and exhale again, his chest expanding with each deep breath. Her palms could still feel the play of firm muscle under taut skin as he moved, his lips on her neck and his hands foraging through her hair.

Finally, he looked at her with an endearing lopsided smile. "So that's third base."

"There are other variations, but essentially, yes."

They put on sunglasses and replaced their caps at the same time. Steve nodded once. "I like it."

~~O~~

The Nifty Fifty Thrift Store opened a few minutes late. Natasha and James mingled with the others standing in the doorway, hanging back and moving inconspicuously around the huge room filled only with clothing and accessories. Natasha chose clothes for both of them then they went to the dressing rooms to change. She finished quickly and rushed out to make sure he didn't leave without her. His actions thus far had indicated that he felt comfortable enough with her presence to stay close by. But just in case.

Standing in front of the full length mirror, Natasha brushed at her bangs curving over to the left, not yet used to the change in style. While waiting for the thrift store to open, she had gone into a salon for a wash and cut.

The clothing she chose for herself were a pair of dark blue jeans and a teal tank top. Nothing fancy, just a little lace around the neckline that showed a small amount of cleavage. A thin light grey sweater and black hoodie completed the ensemble. Everything was in good condition, if a little faded. The black boots were a good balance between sturdy and stylish. Perfect for blending in with her surroundings until she and James could find a safe house, or she could convince him that Steve only wanted to know that his best friend was okay.

Just because she wanted them, Natasha also picked out earrings, dangly gold arrows to match the arrow necklace that she'd received from Clint on her last birthday. He'd gotten help this time, and that was okay. Clint was a compassionate and loving man, but a bit clueless when it came to gifting his best friend. The first time they celebrated her birthday after she joined SHIELD, he'd given her a pair of boot knives. They were high quality, and she had cherished them. That is until she left one in the neck of a Chitauri soldier. But sometimes a girl wants something she to wear when the fighting is over.

The door to the men's changing room opened and James stepped out, his old clothes tucked under his arm, and his eyes darting around the room. Just like at the food truck, no one looked twice at them. She wanted to tell him to relax, but didn't think he'd appreciate the suggestion.

For him, she'd chosen a pair of blue jeans, white t-shirt and a faux leather jacket. In place of the single worn glove, he now wore a pair of black leather fingerless gloves that also left the thumb bare. Natasha drew him over to the mirror so he could see the full effect. His eyes dropped down to his feet and back up, no emotion showing to indicated like or dislike.

Moving between him and the mirror, she reached up to finger comb his hair, inhaling sharply when his left hand grabbed her around the wrist. He'd moved so fast, she hadn't a chance to block. His grip was so tight her hand had turned white. Knowing that startling him could make it worse, Natasha whispered, "Please, Bucky. You're hurting me."

~~O~~

Steve pointed to a set of four basketball courts filled with teens and pre-teens playing three-on-three being alternately cheered and heckled by onlookers. "That used to be a parking lot. I got beat up there twice in high school. And see that diner?"

"There too?" Involuntarily, Maria squeezed his bicep. "Troublemaker."

"What? No. It's…" She smiled warmly, and Steve didn't know if it was because of the movie theater or because she found him amusing. Little of both, probably.

"What I'm hearing is you started fights Barnes had to finish. He took all the blame too, I bet."

Steve chuckled, embarrassed that she'd gotten right to the truth. "Sure. When you put it that way…"

He continued to remark on how this or that differed from when he was a kid. Maria didn't appear to be bored or faking interest. She asked questions and made the occasional remark, showing she really was listening.

Then, he noticed that he'd shared many of his childhood memories with her, but he knew next to nothing about her. Whatever information could be found online would more than likely be false or simply misleading. So far, the only personal thing she'd shared was that her mother had died in childbirth. Mentally shaking his head, Steve made the decision to focus on what he did know about Maria and let the rest sort itself out later.

Just ahead, a park came into view. Steve steered Maria toward a bench shaded by a tree. He put his arm around her shoulders, and even knowing that public displays of affection weren't her thing, he pulled her close, planting a quick kiss on her temple. One hand came up to brush over his chest then was removed.

"Playground fights?" Maria asked, nodding at the swings and slides where children played while their parents and caretakers looked on.

Crossing his legs, he brushed bits of dirt and dust from the bottom of his pants. "This wasn't a park then. Furniture store, I think."

Aiming the phone at the kids, Maria held it for him to see, grinning. "Not everyone thinks you're a traitor."

On the screen, a group of kids were running around, calling out to each other and stopping to play-fight. One boy carried a plastic Captain America shield, another wore an Iron Man mask and a third wielded a Thor hammer, all made of a materials safe for children.

Involuntarily, Steve tightened his hold on Maria, lowering his voice to whisper in her ear. "There's only one person's opinion that matters."

He felt a grin where her cheek touched his shoulder as she scanned the area around the kids, following one little girl who broke from the group, headed for the bathrooms, her mother a few steps behind. Sitting up, Steve grabbed the hand resting on his thigh. "Wait! Go back… Stop!"

"What-"

"Enlarge there by the men's room." Maria did as he asked, and on the screen, Steve saw a woman in a hooded jacket and big sunglasses standing outside. She knocked on the door, called out then stepped out of the way to let a man and a small boy go in. When she turned around, a wedge of red hair could be seen at the top of her head. The woman took off the sunglasses and pushed the hood back.

"It's Romanoff. If she's here…"

Steve finished the thought, "Then so is Bucky."

TBC