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 30

Sitting across from Maria, Steve watched one emotion after the other play out in her eyes. She no doubt thought she was unreadable, emotionless. But if he learned nothing else during the night, she did have emotions. She just chose not to wear them on her sleeve.

While searching for information on being intimate with a woman, Steve had come across a sex etiquette list, dismissing most of it as unnecessary. Hours later, the rule about not assuming you would be asked to stay the night came due. When he thought the time was right, Steve lifted the covers, but only got one foot out before Maria snuggled against his side, and whispered, "Don't go."

It wasn't so much the words as the tone that told him she'd never stayed the night before. He'd pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. "Not going anywhere."

A long wavering sigh had softly brushed the skin of his chest. "Good. Get some sleep, Rogers."

Her voice was husky and warm, sleepy.

That had been hours ago, and he could still feel where her cheek had pressed against his chest with her smile. Except for their fingers bumping when he handed her a plate, they hadn't touched since the shower, and it made him wonder if she had regrets, though he doubted it. Maria wasn't the type of woman to second guess decisions, personally or professionally.

Steve looked up and found her watching him. She put her feet on the floor and slid across the window seat to his side. "Ready to have that talk now?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "How do you always know what I'm thinking?"

"It's a gift." She squeezed his hand. "Want me to go first?"

"Please."

Seeming to gather her thoughts, she turned to him with a smile. "I had a good time last night. And this morning."

Something about her tone was off, as if she had more to say and he might not like it. "But?"

She leaned closer, tilting her head to look into his eyes, the tips of her fingers brushing through the hairs at his temple. "No buts. In fact, I had a great time."

Relieved, Steve covered her hand with his. "What about, uh…"

"Especially that." With a sly smirk, she rubbed the hand in his hair down the back of his neck. "You Googled it, didn't you?"

Steve couldn't help it. The look on her face and their conversation were so absurd, he laughed out loud, and nodded. "Yes. And the one from the shower."

That smirk got bigger, became a grin. "Mmm. That was fun too."

For that, she deserved another kiss, and he gave her one. He meant it to be sweet, just a few seconds, but those seconds turned into more as she deepened the kiss. Then she made that sound in the back of her throat, the wanting, needy sound. Maria framed his face with her palms, exerting pressure until he was on his back with her on top, lying between his thighs. One of her hands found the waistband of his pants and started pulling at his shirt. They parted at the sound of Barton jogging the length of the hall and taking the stairs two at a time.

He caught sight of them before they could sort themselves out, huffing long and hard. "Will you two get a room?" He crossed to the garage door, waving a hand to include them and what they'd been doing. "There is no freakin' way I can unsee any of this."

The sound of an engine starting up followed Barton's departure, and soon they were alone again.

~~O~~

Now that it was his turn to speak, Steve didn't know what to say. The Internet searches he'd done had paid off better than he hoped, and he felt ecstatic that he'd given Maria pleasure, not once, but several times. Did he enjoy the night spent in her bed? Very much so. Did he want to do it again? Definitely! And again, and again…

His uncertainty came from deep inside where a small part of him felt he was being unfaithful to Peggy. They hadn't had a commitment to each other, had only kissed, and though he had loved her and was certain she felt the same, their time apart had made it impossible for them to be together. The Peggy he knew had been lost to him decades ago when he went into the ice. She moved on with her life, married, had a family, and it was time for him to do the same. What he didn't know was how to express it to Maria in a way that didn't sound idiotic, or like he was a love-sick teenager.

He looked up when Maria nudged his shoulder with hers, a question in her eyes. Holding her hand between both of his, he smiled. "Ditto. To all of it."

"That's it? I thought Captain America would have more to say than just ditto."

Releasing her hand, Steve put his arm around her shoulders and turned her to face him so he could kiss her, backing off when she tried to take it further. "Saving the big speech for later."

She touched his cheek in an uncharacteristic moment of tenderness that was reflected in her eyes. "Gonna hold you to it, Rogers."

~~O~~

Steve's phone beeped and he released her to answer it. "It's Natasha." That look of confusion came over his features again. "She wants to know Bucky's favorite songs and favorite color."

"And?"

From his expression, this was information Steve felt was confidential, not to be shared. Maria also knew he'd tell her eventually, and he did. "When we were kids, he liked Sweet Georgia Brown because there was a girl he had a crush on named Georgia, and Ain't Misbehavin'. After he joined the Army, it was those two, plus Blue Moon and Boogie-Woogie Bugle Boy. Green for the color."

"Jazz fan, huh? Guess he and I have something in common besides you." Maria poked him in the chest.

"Then you'll have something besides me to talk about when I'm not around." Steve sent the information off and hugged Maria close again.

Vermont

Natasha's phone beeped and she stared at Steve's response to her text. She'd heard the songs before. Not recently, though. Outside, the steady crack-thunk of wood being chopped gave her Barnes' location. Earlier, she sent him to find wood and he'd come back dragging an entire felled tree, so she put him to work chopping it. They didn't need the wood except on the occasional chilly mountain night or morning, but it kept him busy.

Accessing the music database, she located the songs, dragged them to a playlist and sat back to listen, tapping her foot in time to the music. Why she'd asked Steve for Barnes' favorite songs, she couldn't say. Just that instinct told her the knowledge might come in handy one day. Maybe it was a means to helping him remember his past.

The sound of booted footsteps crossing the porch alerted her to Barnes returning, and she rushed to shut off the music before he heard.

Barnes came into the room carrying an armload of wood. Without acknowledging her presence, he stacked the logs in the box next to the fireplace. Then, to her surprise, he laid a fire in the hearth, replaced the screen and stood, brushing bark and dirt from his hands. He looked up and saw her watching him. "Expecting cold weather, Barnes?"

"You get chilled at night. A fire will help."

Hiding her surprise that he'd noticed, Natasha commented with a smile, "And you know this how?"

He glanced at her and away. "When I can't sleep, I check on you. You're always huddled under the blanket, shivering after a bad dream. I cover you with a blanket."

"That's thoughtful, and a little creepy. We'll light a fire tonight." He stood there watching her as if waiting to be told what to do. A pair of boots sat beside her and she put them on. "I need some exercise. Let's go for a walk."

He nodded and went out onto the porch to wait. When she joined him, he watched her for a moment then descended the steps and she followed, letting him lead the way.

Brooklyn

To give her meal time to settle, Maria went upstairs and stripped all the beds, stuffed everything in the huge basket she found in the laundry room, and carried it down to the first floor. Steve was in the kitchen washing dishes, seeming to be fully engrossed in the project. Certain he wouldn't mind, she went into the den to gather up his bed clothes and add them to the load.

The washer was one of those heavy duty ones designed to handle the needs of a large family. She shoved all the linens into the washer, added detergent and fabric softener, and turned it on.

While that was going and Steve was sweeping, Maria glanced from him to the den door. A short internal debate ensued, then she went back into the den to gather up his belongings. She carried them up to her room, placing the personal items in the bathroom and his clothes in her closet. The dirty clothes she put with hers and took them downstairs to be washed.

When Maria reached the bottom step, she found that Steve had mopped the foyer and the floor around the stairs. She was stuck until it dried. Again, she watched Steve work, amazed at the play of muscles under his shirt where it pulled taut over his chest and arms. Not to mention that a man who did housework without being asked was sexy as hell. But then Steve had been raised in a different era, and that made her wonder, despite their obvious compatibility in all other areas, if they could make a go of a long-term relationship.

The longest relationship she'd been in, if you didn't count the estranged one with her father, was with Fury. And it wasn't like they were friends, exactly. They seldom associated outside of work, just the odd gathering with the movers and shakers of the world. During these functions, she smiled and made nice with people she wouldn't speak to if it wasn't part of her job as Fury's second-in-command. And now that SHIELD had been sent underground, she was free of the responsibility-temporarily at least.

Doubts about her ability to sustain a personal relationship hovered over her like a cloud. If she expressed these doubts to Steve, how would he react? He'd probably say something about taking it one day at a time. And he'd be right. The future was uncertain for all of them. All they could do was assume the world would continue to spin on, as Fury would say, and make plans accordingly.

"Maria?" Steve was standing in the den doorway, a look of confusion in his blue eyes. While she'd been deliberating, the floor had dried.

"Yeah?" He pointed over his shoulder into the den, and she realized she hadn't asked his consent to move his stuff. Getting to her feet, she picked up the basket of clothes. He took it and followed her into the laundry room. "It's just the two of us, so I put your things in my room." Sensing his surprise, she smiled at his dazed, open-mouthed expression. "If that's okay with you."

Steve dropped the basket, and before Maria could stop him, he swept her into his arms. "It's more than okay."

"Good. Now put me down so I can finish the laundry."

"I'll help." He transferred the linens from the washer to the dryer, and got it started while she filled the washer again. "Let's go for a run. You can try out your new super powers. See if they'll hold up to," he flexed his biceps and wiggled his eyebrows, "Captain America."

"You're on."

Steve opened the front door and they stepped out onto the porch. The sky had gone dark grey with storm clouds and the wind had picked up, blowing trash all over and bending branches nearly to the breaking point. He shoved his hands into his pockets and sighed. "Before the serum, I had to stay indoors as much as possible because of my asthma. Afterwards, I still avoided going out in the rain unless I had to, at least for a while."

"Which means?"

"Let's watch a movie instead."

Lightning flashed across the sky, thunder boomed, and seconds later, the rain started coming down hard. "A movie would be good," Maria deadpanned.

Still, Steve stood there looking out at the storm. Maria watched his thoughts flicker over his features. Then, he smiled. "I love you."

The words, while not a surprise, still caught Maria off guard. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He barely seemed to be breathing, waiting for her response. Pursing her lips to keep a grin from getting out of control, she said, "I know."

He let out the breath he'd been holding, as if her response had been exactly what he hoped for. Turning together, he took her by the hand and they went back inside.

In the foyer, Maria took his phone from his back pocket and laid it on the table by the stairs. Stepping in close, she encircled his neck with her arms. "Forget the movie. I have a better way to pass the time."

Steve leaned down until their lips were almost touching. "I like the way you think."

He lifted her in his arms, carried her upstairs.

Vermont

James heard the rustle of an animal moving through the underbrush, and he put up a hand as a signal for silence. Natasha came to his side, a question in her eyes. He crouched and she came down next to him as he pointed. Ahead of them on the trail was a small reddish colored animal with pointed ears, a long nose and a fluffy tail. Natasha touched his arm, mouthing the word "fox". He nodded and they watched as the animal sniffed the ground, moving in what seemed like a random path through the trees and bushes. Suddenly, it stopped and stared at them. The ears twitched, and it scampered away.

He looked over at Natasha. She noticed his scrutiny, and smiled. Without thinking, he returned it. Then, as if he'd done something wrong, she stood and moved back a step, brushing the dirt from her hands and scanning the area. Wondering what had just happened James started walking again, the songs of a variety of colorful birds providing a musical accompaniment to their journey.

Soon, they came to a small stream, the clear water flowing over rocks and pebbles, leaves and twigs carried along by the flow, occasionally catching on the weeds growing on the banks between patches of earth where animals stood to drink. James liked sitting on the big rock and watching the water. The rushing sound and the light glittering off the surface calmed his mind when he felt as if he were about to lose control. From what he'd read, it was considered a form of meditation. He often came here on his solitary walks when he was feeling overwhelmed.

Movement beside him drew his attention back to Natasha. She knelt down and leaned forward to drink from the stream, wiping drops from her chin, laughing sheepishly when their eyes met. "We didn't bring water."

Now that she mentioned it, James realized he was thirsty too. He copied her actions, using the back of his hand to wipe away the drips. Getting to his feet, he looked around, and chose a direction. Natasha moved in front of him, and truthfully, he preferred her to stay where he could see her in case she needed protection from wild animals. People didn't concern him as much. They hadn't seen another human since the day they arrived, but that didn't mean they weren't around.

Without warning, a memory resurfaced, and just that quickly, he was back in Germany during the war, sitting in a smoky bar with the Howling Commandoes, drinking, eating, smoking cigars, and flirting with the Fräuleins. All but Steve, who smiled tightly and nodded when asked if he wanted another beer. The waitress came back with a tray of steins, setting one in front of each man with a smile.

He brought the mug to his mouth, stopping without taking a drink when one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen came from the kitchen area, a towel over her shoulder and carrying five huge mugs in each hand. Her raven black hair was twisted into a long braid that hung to the middle of her back. She went behind the bar to set the mugs on the shelf. As she turned, their eyes met. She smiled shyly and pushed through the saloon doors. He started to follow, wanting to at least get her name, stopping when her face appeared over the doors. She looked up, indicating the top floor, and holding up two fingers. If he understood correctly, she lived above the bar and hotel in room two. Her other hand came up, this time with three fingers, and the other hand making a zero. Thirty minutes. He only had thirty minutes to get himself cleaned up.

In his memory, James introduced himself to the girl. "Ich heisse Bucky Barnes. Wie ist dein name?"

The girl smiled. "Ich heisse Isolde Gruber. Ich spreche Englisch."

"Thank God. My German's not so good."

Her hair was loose, hanging over one shoulder, the fingers of one hand playing with the strands. "I heard you with your friends. You speak it well enough, though not as well as the dark skinned man." She looked him up and down, and opened the door wider. "Would you like to come in, Bucky?"

Happy that she found him presentable, Bucky smiled. "Yes, I would, Isolde."

The door closed, and suddenly, they were all over each other, hands pulling at their clothes.

James returned to the present with a snap when Natasha tackled him to the ground. A horrible stench assaulted his nose, accompanied by a small animal scurrying away, and the sound of Natasha swearing.

~~O~~

When the skunk appeared on the trail, Natasha had tried to signal to Barnes to back up slowly. However, he was staring off into space and didn't react when she whispered his name. As the skunk came closer, she walked backward, hoping the animal's interest would be diverted by something more interesting. No such luck. It turned its back on her, and in a last ditch effort to avoid the spray, Natasha turned and tackled Barnes to the ground, landing on top of him. "Kakogo chyorta!"

"What was it?"

"A skunk. And we just got sprayed. Chyort voz'mi!" She rolled off of Barnes and got to her feet. She made a sound of disgust as he followed her in the direction of the cabin. "We can't go inside until we get rid of the smell. The remedy's in the supply closet."

"What do we do?"

Natasha set a fast pace through the forest, huffing with annoyance. "One of us will have to get undressed to prevent the smell from getting inside the cabin, and bring out what we need. We can off rinse at the stream. It's biodegradable."

"Clothes?"

"We'll have to burn them. The boots too."

They left the woods and stepped into the clearing that circled the cabin. Natasha and Barnes shared a glance. "So the one who goes in for the supplies will be..."

"In their skivvies. Yes." Natasha held out a hand, the other fisted in the palm. "Rock, paper, scissors."

Barnes pulled his shirt off over his head, dropped it on the ground at his feet and reached for his belt. "I'll go. Tell me what you need."

~~O~~

Standing in his bedroom wearing only his boxers, James briefly thought of bringing clothes for Natasha and him to wear back to the cabin. But one sniff of himself told him not to. He'd come in through his room just in case the smell lingered, then it wouldn't bother Natasha while she slept.

He went right to the supply closet. Taking care not to touch anything he didn't have to, he grabbed two bottles of biodegradable skunk deodorizer. By the time he exited the cabin and made his way down to the stream, Natasha had already gotten a fire going. From the odd smell as he approached, she'd already started burning their clothes. He came around a bend in the path that opened into a clearing next to the stream.

Unexpectedly, he found her sitting on a log wearing just her unmentionables. Stumbling to a stop, James tried to look anywhere but at her nearly naked body. He heard her poke the fire with a stick, the flames crackling as it flared higher. The burnt skunk smell increased, telling him she'd added another article of clothing to the fire.

"You can turn around, Barnes. These days, most women wear less than this to the beach."

Still holding the bottles in front of him, James faced her again. She threw something at him, and he caught it. Setting the bottles on the ground at his feet, he held the garment up. "What is it?"

"Something for you to cover up with so you don't have to go commando until we're ready to go home."

Facing away from her, he used the sleeves to tie the denim jacket around his hips, then removed his boxers and tossed them in the fire. Natasha's sharp intake of breath told him she'd seen the scars on his back from his shoulders down to his knees. He didn't know how he'd gotten them, assuming the original injuries had happened when he fell from the train. That incident wasn't a fully formed memory. More like he was an observer, as if watching a film. The "characters" were familiar, without the emotional investment reality provided. He expected her to say something, but she didn't.

When James looked at her again, she was staring into the fire watching the cloth burn. The breeze shifted, and she moved to the other side so the smoke wouldn't blow in her face, bringing her closer to him. Close enough that he could smell her under the skunk.

With the clothes gone, the skunk scent wasn't as strong, but it was in their hair and on their skin, so they still had to scrub with the deodorizer.

Abruptly, Natasha grabbed the one of the bottles, twisted the top off, and poured it into her hand. "Spread it all over your body. Get all the nooks and crannies, including your left arm. Hair too. Don't get it in your eyes, ears or mouth. It has to stay on for five minutes then rinse."

Following her lead, James rubbed it over himself until all that remained was his hair, back and private area. He saturated his hair, and was working out how to reach all of his back when he felt Natasha's hands on him, massaging the sticky substance over his skin, her fingers tracing the shapes of the scars. She stopped at the edge of the jacket, and he heard rustling behind him, then her panties and bra flew into the fire. "You'll have to do the rest yourself, after you do my back."

Taking a deep breath, James poured the solution into his hand and applied it to her back, feeling every bump and ridge of her spine, and the sharp edges of her shoulder blades. As he applied it to her shoulders, her hair tickled the back of his flesh and blood hand. Thankfully, his body didn't betray him by reacting to the sensation or the sight of her bare bottom.

When he finished, Natasha pointed her chin at a thick bush. One side of her mouth turned up in a teasing smile. "Go behind there to finish. I won't peek."

Unable to think of a bantering comment, James stepped behind the bush, untied the jacket and sent it flying through the air into the fire. And when Natasha glanced over her shoulder at him, he didn't smile, just raised one eyebrow. She chuckled as she returned to her task, James averting his eyes once more when she used the last of the bottle on a specific area. Apparently modesty wasn't a part of her character. In the back of his mind, he sensed the same trait in himself, tempered with his introduction to this new world to which he was slowly becoming accustomed.

~~O~~

Watching Barnes dart behind the bush, Natasha mildly berated herself for teasing him yet again. On the other hand, she was gratified that her plan was working when he merely raised an eyebrow at her. He had no idea that it made him appear cocky and playful, and all the more captivating, making her want things she couldn't have, at least not with him. That wasn't why they were here. Their relationship was as teacher and student, mentor and mentee. Not femme fatale and mark. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Lovers.

When five minutes had passed according to her internal clock, Natasha waited a little longer, just in case, before going down to the stream to rinse. Aside from the lingering skunk smell from the burned clothing and the boots they'd yet to dispose of, her skin and hair were clean once again.

Natasha walked along the edge of the stream until she came to a dip in the bed. She climbed in, the water coming up to her waist, the coolness causing her to inhale sharply. Ducking under the water, she rubbed at her skin and hair until she no longer felt the stickiness of the deodorizer. Raising her head above water, she pushed the hair from her face, and gave her skin one last check.

The snap-snap-snap of twigs interrupted the relative silence, and assuming it was Barnes, she turned to greet him. Instead, she found herself face to face with a moose. They watched each other for a few moments, Natasha hardly daring to breathe. The young female came to the edge of the water, dipping her head to drink, her ears rotating front to back, taking in all the sounds of the forest.

Suddenly, she looked to the left then turned and trotted away. Natasha climbed out of the water, pushing the hair out of her eyes, and rubbing the rivulets from her face. A slight breeze chilled her skin, creating goose flesh. She rubbed her arms to warm them, ignoring the involuntary reaction from a prominent part of her anatomy.

Rustling grass reached her ears just before Barnes came from behind the trunk of a large tree. From her vantage point, his lower half was hidden, and she knew he couldn't see her below the collarbones. She grinned at him. "We look like Adam and Eve, but without the apple tree, the snake, or that whole populating the world thing."

A few minutes later, Barnes joined her at the clearing, staying behind the bushes and not looking at her. He'd have to come out sooner or later. Another stray breeze caused her to shiver, and Barnes saw though she tried to hide it. "You should get inside. I'll light the fire."

She let a little of her good humor show in an ironic smile. "How's that work again? You don't want to see me naked and don't want me to see you naked. Kind of limits our options." He didn't have an answer, and Natasha huffed in minor annoyance. "Look, we're adults, Barnes. I've seen naked male bodies, and you've seen naked female bodies. Let's just get back so I can enjoy a glass of wine and some music by the fire."

Before he could make a comment or offer an alternative solution, Natasha stepped from behind the row of bushes, and headed down the path toward the cabin. On the way, she picked up the deodorizers bottles. The fire she'd used to burn their clothes was almost out. Mixed in with the ashes, she saw the soles of two pairs of boots. Barnes had dropped them in while she was at the stream.

She heard splashing as he rinsed, and in a few minutes, he joined her, also staring at the fire. Then, he kicked dirt onto to the still hot embers, snuffing them out.

"I'm surprised we haven't run into a skunk before now. They're all over Vermont. Let's not do that again."

They arrived at the cabin just as the sun was setting, casting long shadows, and blurring the sharp lines of nature, the colors seeming to run into each other. Natasha went into her room, hearing the door to Barnes' room click shut a few seconds later.

Natasha came out, dressed once again, hair brushed and socks on her feet. Barnes was lighting the fire. She went to the kitchen to make coffee, and found a fresh pot.

Taking her cup of coffee, Natasha went to the sofa and sat in the corner with her feet tucked under. Now that she was dressed, the chills had stopped. It wasn't often she felt the cold, but for some reason, today she did. Only the cold wasn't just external. It was internal as well.

The sofa shifted as Barnes took a seat at the other end. His practice had been to eat whatever she made, whether he liked it or not, and drink what she drank. Tonight, he had a glass of lemonade with ice. Natasha silently applauded his choice because that meant he was becoming his own person again. Sure, he'd made his own decisions at the beginning of his disaffection from HYDRA.

However, it had been too much, too soon. For seventy years, others had made all his choices for him. Clothing, food, training, missions, entombing him in a cryogenic chamber until the next time he was need to give the world a nudge toward destruction. It made her angry that HYDRA would turn a kind, compassionate, and caring man like Bucky Barnes into a brutal, cold-hearted killing machine.

Now, Barnes was choosing, weighing his options. The next step in her plan to rehabilitate him was to have him interact with others besides her. After today, they needed food and clothing. Tomorrow, they would go into town. She might even let him drive.

"Why are you here?"

His words, loud in the silence of the room, save for the crackling of the fire, startled Natasha. She sipped her coffee and stared into the flames. "We've had this conversation before. No sense beating it to death."

Barnes made no response, and when she turned to look at him, he was watching her. It was a tactic she'd used to unnerve a mark, rattle his or her nerves to make them speak without thinking. Using strategies against her she'd been taught as a child wouldn't get him very far. She turned the question back on him. "Why do you think I'm here?"

"Uncertain." His metal arm glittered in the firelight, the flames dancing over the metal like fingers over piano keys playing a tune no one could hear. "I won't let them lock me away again."

His voice was normally rough and husky, with a flatness that suggested he felt detached from his emotions, and lacked empathy for other humans. Now, the texture had changed. As hard as he fought when he considered her his mission, that same indomitable spirit pushed back at the possibility that he might end up in the same situation, just with different jailers.

"Not gonna happen."

"How do you know?"

Carefully thinking through her answer, Natasha turned in her seat, knees bent, injecting as much sincerity into her tone as possible. "Because I won't allow it. And if they try, we'll disappear. Go where no one will ever find us." She moved to his side, purposely invading his personal space, taking his hand and holding tight when he tried to pull away. "You can trust me, Bucky. I, more than anyone, know what it's like to break the chain of trust. But for the one who's dealt the blow of duplicity, it's not an easy thing to get over. You begin to think that everyone, even lifelong friends, are out to get you." Slowly, so he wouldn't think it was an attack, Natasha touched his cheek. "I won't let you down. That's a promise."

His eyes roamed over her features and back to her eyes, still dubious as to her motives. The light hit him just right so that she could see his acceptance, at least for now. "We?"

"Absolutely. Friends don't let friends go off the grid alone." Standing, Natasha gave him an encouraging smile. "Let's get something to eat."

Without waiting for her instructions, Barnes opened the refrigerator and took out the ingredients for a salad while she made sandwiches.

They worked in companionable silence for a few minutes. Then, with her back to Barnes, Natasha took a deep breath to fortify herself to speak on a subject she'd only told to a few others. "The Red Room is where I was trained, and where I grew up. They 'recruited' twenty-eight orphaned girls near the age of seven, and trained them as deep-cover agents, and assassins.

"At one point many of us were implanted with false memories of lives we never lived… being a prima ballerina, marriages to husbands who didn't exist. Because of my skill set, I got on SHIELD's radar in a bad way. He was sent to kill me, but I wouldn't be here if not for Clint."

The steady sound of chopping stopped briefly, then continued. The quiet of the room seemed almost deafening as she waited for Barnes to make a comment.

"I'm sorry."

The heartfelt sympathy in his voice warmed Natasha. She turned to give him a smile of thanks. In response, he crossed the room, and after a moment's consideration, drew her into his arms, holding her more tenderly than she thought him capable of, as if she were delicate porcelain and would break. His metal arm encircled her shoulders while his right hand smoothed over her hair, urging her head onto his shoulder.

Natasha's palms rested on Barnes's chest, and she just let him hold her.

TBC