Natasha Romanoff didn't often look vulnerable, and he was pretty sure that when she did, it was usually a ruse. But this time was different. He'd taken her off guard.
She thought for a long moment. "I don't have regrets. It may not be what I wanted, but I've made peace with who I was and the things I've done. Maybe I've done more good than bad at this point. I think that's the best anybody can hope for."
He nodded.
"Nothing's perfect, right? But I've got a pretty good life. Now."
The breeze pushed her hair back and the fabric of her dress pressed against her body. For a moment, she looked like she could blow away. Without the Avengers and after the disastrous aftermath of the Sokovia Accords, she was in the wind. No roots, no anchor. Spies don't die fighting shoulder to shoulder with comrades. They died alone, surrounded by enemies. It's a tough way to live.
"She finished her drink and set the glass down on the little iron table. "What about you? Is this the life you imagined?"
He scoffed. "No, definitely not."
"You mean you didn't envision yourself becoming a super soldier and being buried in ice for sixty-six years?"
"Believe it or not, it never crossed my mind."
She chuckled. "What did you hope for?"
He frowned thoughtfully. "Hope." He let out a long breath. "There wasn't a lot of room for hope in forty-five."
"And now?"
"Yeah, I don't… I don't know. I've never had enough time to think about it."
"Well, it looks like we're out of work for the foreseeable future. What was your fallback plan if enlistment didn't pan out?"
"I honestly never thought about it."
"It was never an option, huh?"
"No. I guess I could get back into the musical circuit."
She laughed. "And I could get back into ballet."
"You were a ballet dancer?"
"No," she looked down. "I dreamt about it, though. It was nicer than the alternative."
"What life would you have chosen for yourself, if you'd had the choice?"
"Not pulling your punches tonight, huh?" She sucked in her breath. "Independently wealthy. A patron of the arts." She gave him a grin.
"Yeah, that's a pretty good one." He took a deep breath. The air smelled clean and sweet.
"What about you?"
He shook his head. "I can't separate who I am from who I was. There is no life I would have chosen that didn't involve being Captain America."
"That must be nice."
He chuckled. "Sounds pretty cocky when I say it out loud."
"No, I know what you mean." She paused, contemplating the question before she asked it. "Would you go back? If you could?"
He swallowed. "I don't know. I try to imagine myself grabbing a beer with the guys and reminiscing about the war, but it doesn't quite sit right."
"Because the war never ends," she said softly.
"And because I don't want it to," he finished his drink in one gulp.