DISCLAIMER: ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE.

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"So," Natasha slowly tilted her head towards her companion, a devilish grin on her face. "Where did Captain American learn how to steal a car?"

Their getaway car was a large four-by-four, which Steve had gotten into without any problem whatsoever. With the seriousness of the situation put to the side, Natasha had to admit, she had found it very attractive, this more roguish side to him. Was Steve Rogers, the pristine Captain America, a hidden bad boy? The theory made her body tingle. But, after two hours spent in practically silence apart from a bit of small-talk, she was itching to hear something that wasn't the radio.

"Nazi Germany," Steve answered, his gaze locked on the road ahead of them as they crossed the border into New Jersey. "And we're borrowing, get your feet off the dash."

She made a noise of approval. "Bossy," But, she did as he said, putting her feet off the down and straightened in her seat. "Alright, I have a question for you - of which, you don't have to answer."

Steve remained silent.

"I feel that if you don't answer it, though, you're kind of answering it…" She trailed off, biting her lower lip.

He rolled his eyes. "What is it?"

"Was that your first kiss since 1945?"

He snorted. "That bad, huh?"

"I didn't say that!" Instantly, she felt bad. She hadn't intended on offending him, at all. She just rather enjoyed this game of cat and mouse that the two of them played together. Hurting his feelings was never something she had intentionally done.

"Well, it kind of sounds like that's what you are saying." He said, but his crooked grin was enough to show that he wasn't actually hurt, perhaps a little stung, but she knew that he wasn't too upset with her statement. Deep down, she knew he enjoyed her teasing just as much as she enjoyed doing it. "That was not my first kiss since 1945. I'm ninety-five, I'm not dead."

Something inside her tightened at the new knowledge that perhaps he wasn't as innocent as she had assumed, but she tried her hardest to ignore it. Whether - and whomever - Steve Rogers had been kissed recently shouldn't be her main concern right now.

So, she resorted to her usual fallback; sarcasm. "Relax, Rogers. I'm not going to pounce on you. There's no need to get your knickers in a twist, we did what we had to do to get out of danger."

His grip on the steering wheel loosened. "I just didn't imagine our first kiss being...under those circumstances."

That surprised her. It was as if she had been standing on a table where the cloth had been wiped out from underneath her. It took her a moment or two to find her balance again.

Before she could even try to say anything in response, he said, "Dating has hardly been my top priority these last couple of years. Besides, it's hard to find someone with shared life experience."

Okay, he didn't want to talk about what he had just said, or what it meant. So, she'd drop it, but she knew that later on, when she got a moment alone, she would think about it. Attempt to process it. Try to understand what exactly he had meant. "Oh, that's easy - you just make something up."

"What, like you?" He asked, the softness removed any sting or judgement from his tone.

He barely knew anything about her past, nor had he ever tried to push her for details. She had shared the basics with him, once. But, really, all he had was a small glimpse of a large, hidden picture. That was how she intended it on staying. If he knew the real truth, he'd look at her differently, treat her differently. She didn't know if she could bear that.

Still, her chest tightened and her palms became slightly sweaty at the thought of his gaze, currently so soft and at ease, being replaced by a look of pure disgust when the day came that he found out about her past.

"The truth is a matter of circumstance." She said with a shrug, playing it off as if it really wasn't such a big deal, as if she didn't mind the fact she had to push away her past because it was so awfully shameful. "It's not all things to all people, all the time. Neither am I."

He looked at her, his face unreadable, but she knew him well enough to know that he was thinking about something carefully. She tried not to squirm under his intense gaze.

"That's a tough way to live." That was the first time someone had ever regarded the sacrifices she had made as something that should be respected. It once again showed her that Steve Rogers was different from everybody else.

Her corner of her mouth twitched, but she refused to let the smile grow. "It's a good way not to die though."

"You know, it's kind of hard to trust someone when you don't know who that someone really is." He pointed out, turning the car down a smaller road, peeling off into the trees.

Slowly, she raised her chin, refusing to reflect on how his words cut into her. "Well, who do you want me to be?"

The question remained unanswered for a few unbearable moments, with Steve not once taking his eyes off her face. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest as she waited for his answer.

Steve sighed softly. "How about a friend?"

The confirmation that he didn't see her as anything more hurt, but she just brushed it off and laughed. "There's a chance you might be in the wrong business, Rogers."

"Are we talking about SHIELD here, or you?" Steve asked, his boldness surprising her. "You and Clint are friends."

"I owe Clint my life." She said seriously. "That's a debt that I may never be able to repay him, but I will spend every last minute trying. Clint is the first real friend I've ever made."

Steve's shoulders tightened ever so slightly. "So, you and him, you've never been…?"

The idea was absurd enough to make her snort, seeing as Clint was practically a brother to her. Then again, Steve hardly knew anything about Clint, and it wasn't the first time that someone had assumed there was something going on between the two assassins. Why it unsettled her more that he had been the one assumed such a thing was something that she wasn't ready to process yet.

Steve also had no idea of Clint's secret, and it certainly was not her place to bring that to light. "I make it a habit not to mix play with work." She answered. "Makes things a little messy sometimes."

The stiffness of his shoulders didn't ease.

"Any more questions you have about my personal life?" Natasha asked, her amused grin back on her face as she tried to forget that Steve Rogers barely considered her a friend, let alone anything more. Well, what have you done to not deserve that? A nasty voice inside her head reminded her.

"Well, you always seem so invested in my lack of relationships." Steve pointed out. "Perhaps, I was just intrigued, and bored of being the centre of conversation."

She made a face at him, which had him chuckling softly. "Alright, smart-ass, ask me a question." Steve wouldn't go too personal, she knew that for a fact. He was far too respectful, so therefore, she had offered him this chance to ask her something, anything, knowing that he wouldn't push her.

"Alright, what's your favourite colour?"

Although she hadn't expected any questions like 'what's your favourite sexual position' or 'what's your biggest turn on', Natasha was definitely surprised that he had taken this approach. "My favourite colour?" She repeated, her disbelief and confusion clear.

He glanced at her. "Everyone has a favourite colour."

"I doubt it." Natasha said, but her teeth nibbled at her bottom lip, out of his eyesight as he now focused on the road ahead of them once again. Although this question was simple enough, it still felt personal. "No one's ever asked me that before," She admitted, feeling stupid.

A strange look crossed Steve's face, and she tried not to tell herself that it was out of sympathy. "Well, I want to know." He told her with a shrug. "You don't have to answer, if you don't'-"

"I like blue." She blurted out, and then felt as if she had to clarify her answer for whatever reason. "I don't particularly have a favourite shade of blue. I just like the colour."

The corner of his lip twitched. "Blue, huh? I knew you liked my eyes."

Flustered, Natasha had no idea how to respond to such a flirtatious comment from him. So, she stuck her tongue out at him, which earnt her a deep chuckle in response. "Alright, how about you?" She asked, leaning back in her chair and getting comfortable. "If you even dare say red, blue and white, I'll choke you with that seatbelt."

Steve laughed, having no doubt that she was being completely serious. "I don't think I actually have one particular favourite colour."

"You're an artist." Natasha pointed out, remembering a conversation they had shared on one of their earlier missions together, after New York. Steve had admitted that his old self had enjoyed drawing and painting, and Natasha hadn't done well at not looking surprised by such a revelation. The man looked like he could snap a paintbrush with just a tap of a finger.

"Yes, and because of that, I guess I've come to appreciate the beauty and flaws in every colour." Steve replied. "Some people would say brown is a dull colour, but if it's used right, it can bring the same amount of warmth to a canvas as amber. Pink is a fun colour, but it can also be mellow and gentle. White is a little boring, but adding it to anything can change the outcome completely."

Momentarily losing herself in his words, Natasha mulled over his words. Perhaps, this was how Steve saw the goodness in people, because he looked into things with such delicate detail. You just contradicted your earlier statement, that everyone has a favourite colour."

The corner of his lip twitched. "I guess I'm not like everyone else."

No, you most certainly are not. "So, the famous Steve Rogers does not have a favourite colour?" She checked.

A small sigh escaped him, so quiet that she barely heard it. "I guess not. There was a Steve Rogers before Captain America, who probably would have been able to give you an answer. I'm still trying to figure out who I am, after the ice."

More than most people, Natasha could understand that. After she had left the Red Room behind her, she had been terrified. Her life had never been here before. There was so much that her tutors had taught her about the world, but other things had been completely alien to her. She had had to become a whole new person, and the woman she was now was of her own creating, her own shaping.

"You'll figure it out." She told him gently. "Steve?" Her teeth sank into her bottom lip once again.

"Yeah?" He asked, glancing to her face once again, picking up instantly on what she was doing to that lip. The urge to lean across and smooth out those little indents with his own mouth struck him once again, and it took a lot to push it away.

"You're a good man." Why she was blurting this out, she had no idea. The words fell from her mouth without registering with the logical part of her brain, that would stop her from making such a fool of herself. "I...I've never met anyone like you before."

Before Steve could even think of anything to say in response to that, their destination appeared through the break in the trees, and a thousand memories flooded back to him. The car came to a stop outside the now abandoned Camp Lehigh, with a high security fence. Steve left it parked near to the surrounding trees, where it should remain concealed as the night approached. Without a word, they got out.

"This is it," Steve confirmed.

Natasha checked her tracking device. "The file gave us these coordinates. Any idea how we get inside?"

"Ladies first," He said.

"And they say chivalry is dead." Natasha rolled her eyes, placing the tracker inside her jean pocket before scaling up the fence as effortlessly as if it was a ladder. Steve watched her go, and had a hard time stopping himself from staring at how tightly fitted those jeans of hers were.

Get your head out of the gutter, Rogers.

Reaching the top, she looked down and caught him staring. To hide the blush that crept onto her cheeks, she wiggled her hips a little and said, "Enjoying the show, Rogers?" A flustered Steve glared back at her, and she dropped to the floor on the other side, landing on her feet and flashing him a wink over her shoulder. "You gonna come with me, or just stand around all day looking pretty?"

"Hilarious," Steve said, climbing the fence and landing beside her. They shared a look before making their way into the camp, just as the sun set and darkness fell.

Inside the compound were several different, identical buildings, all made out of bricks and all looming above them. The grass was far too long, and weeds covered the pathways. The windows were covered in a thick layer of dust, and somewhere cracked. It had been a long time since anyone had thought of keeping things up together here.

"This camp is where I was trained." Steve told her, as they made their way through the centre of the buildings. Natasha was slightly higher up, walking along a small stone walkway.

"Changed much?" She asked, even though she knew the answer. Still, it was hard to picture this game alive with people, with soldiers bustling around like busy worker bees and tanks rolling in and out along the road. In that moment, she realised she barely knew anything about Steve's past, just like he only knew scrapes of hers.

"A little…" Steve's voice drifted off, as his surroundings allowed him to get lost in memories of a different time, when he was a different person, trying to find his place in the world. Only Nat's voice, declaring a dead end, brought him back to the present.

But, towering over Natasha was a building that captured his attention. It was unlike the others. It was made solely out of stone, with a strange entrance. Nothing like the brick-walled quarters behind them.

"What is it?" Natasha asked, reading the puzzled expression on his face.

He made towards the building, with her falling instantly at his side. "Army regulations forbid storing ammunition within five hundred yards of the barracks." He explained. "This building's in the wrong place."

Using the shield, he easily snapped apart the lock. He forced the door open, revealing a metal staircase that led into darkness.

He turned to the red-haired spy beside him. "Nat, maybe you should-"

"Don't you even dare, Rogers." She said, brushing past him quickly so he couldn't see the little smile that twitched on her mouth as he called her Nat. He hadn't called her that in such a long time.

Once they reached the bottom of the staircase, he found the switch and turned the lights on. The room was practically empty, apart from several desks and chairs that had dust covering them. The back wall bore the symbol they were all too familiar with.

"This is SHIELD." She confirmed, slowly walking further into the large room. Steve made sure to be right behind her, glancing around with all his senses on high alert.

"Maybe where it started," He suggested. Peggy had been a founder of SHIELD, so it was completely possible that the beginning had been here. Had they had meetings at this compound, completely undetected by the clueless soldiers outside training every day? Back then, could they possibly have imagined the threats the world would face, the threats they would have to try to keep out?

A door lay half-closed to the side, and Natasha was the first to head that way. Steve followed close behind.

They entered an old storage room, filled with cabinets and shelves that were now empty. Cobwebs hung from every corner of the ceiling, and the air inside the room was brittle and cold.

"Stark's father," Natasha said, as they came to a stand in front of the photo frames hanging from the wall facing them. Sure enough, there was Howard Stark, a face that Steve hadn't seen in a very long time, but one which his son bore a great resemblance to. They had the same raised cheekbones and shape of their eyes.

It was the photo beside Stark's that held his attention. Peggy's eyes were looking back at him, with that soft, proud smile on her face that he adored. In that photo, she was forever youthful, forever the woman who had stolen his heart all those years ago.

Natasha noticed how his eyes hadn't left that particular photo. "Who's the girl?"

He hadn't told her about Peggy, simply because he hadn't told anyone about Peggy. It was too personal, too private. His life now was so chaotic that he clung onto the small pieces of it that were still private and not plastered all over museums and newspapers.

Besides, how could he talk about Peggy, when only a few minutes okay, he'd almost been consumed by the burning temptation to kiss another woman? A temptation that seemed to constantly be stirring inside him, and only when Natasha Romanoff was around?

He wasn't ready to tell Natasha about her, not now. So, he turned and walked away, without answering her. He knew it was rude, and it left the spy puzzled, but he wasn't ready.

But, as he walked past a particular gap in the shelves, a small breeze touched his cheek.

"If you're already working in a secret office," He said, drawing Natasha over to him as he pushed the shelves to the side. They rolled away, as designed, revealing what they were keeping from sight. "Why do you need to hide the elevator?"

They exchanged a glance before entering, Natasha instantly decoding the elevator before it clanged down to the basement floor. Steve's hand rested on the small of her back, but she neither commented on it or moved away. In fact, the small touch helped cool down her racing thoughts about what exactly could be waiting for them.

When the large steel doors finally opened, it revealed nothing but a dark space in front of them. Their presence as they took their first steps inside did not alert any alarms, nor did any lights turn on to guide them. Beside them, the elevator doors slid shut, blocking out the only source of brightness that was allowed into the room.

As they walked further into the room, the back wall became clearer. It was covered in tiny screens, with various switches and buttons surrounding them. The air vents at the edges of the room brought in an icy feeling. Finally, lights flickered on, revealing a large desk with three big computers, along with four smaller screens. Unlike the rest of the compound, there was no dust.

"This can't be the data point, this technology is ancient." Natasha pointed out, as she turned around slowly, taking in her surroundings. This room was nothing compared to the extensive tech rooms at SHIELD, with uptodate equipment. It had truly been frozen in time, and she wondered when the last time someone had sat behind that desk had been.

That was when she saw it, lying on the desk, and her smile faded. It was a plug in for the USB that felt as if it was burning in her hand, itching for her to uncode what was hidden inside it's crypted programmes.

Steve hovered close to her, his breath touching her cheek as he said, "Be careful, Nat."

She gave him what she hoped was a confident look, before she plugged the UBS in. Instantly, framed discs surrounding them started to move, alive for the first time in probably years. The noise they created was eerie and horrible.

The camera at the centre of the desk lifted, looking directly at them, and she took a step back. Steve was in front of her in a heartbeat.

Small green letters appeared on the largest screen, Initiate system? The question stared at them, as if a challenge in itself.

Natasha stepped around him, brushing her hand over his arm reassuringly, before entering the word Yes into the keyboard. Unable to resist, and wanting to break the coldness surrounding them, she grinned, "What to play a game?" When she looked over her shoulder, Steve's face was blank. "It's from a movie-"

"I know." He said, the tension in his locked shoulders proved that he was not in the mood for jokes right now. Not when they, when she, were in danger the longer they stayed here.

The screen in front of them fizzled, before green lines took over, flashing here and there at first before forming a robotic looking face that stared back at them with dark, endless eyes. "Rogers, Steven," It acknowledged. "Born 1918."

A sickening feeling crawled into Steve's stomach as the camera slowly moved off his face and landed on Natasha, who froze the minute the voice spoke her name.

"Romanova, Natalia Alianovna. Born 1984."

That name. She'd hadn't thought about it in years, had pushed it to the back of her mind and refused to bring it to the surface. No doubt, Steve would have questions. He wouldn't push her for answers, she knew that, but he would still wonder. Another reason for him not to trust her, because he didn't know her at all.

Steve glanced at her, confusion sparking in those blue eyes of hers. She stared back, her eyes pleading, Please, not now. Understanding, he looked away, but the name that Zola had greeted her with echoed in his mind.

"It's a recording," She said, taking a step towards the screen again. She wasn't going to be intimidated by someone who wasn't even there, even if they had spoken her birth name with such familiarity, as if they knew her.

"I am not a recording, froline." The face snapped back to her. "I may not be the man I was when the Captain took me prisoner in 1945, but I am."

Natasha turned to Steve, who looked as if he had just seen a ghost. "You know this thing?"

"Arnim Zola was a German scientist who worked for the Red Skull." He explained to her, turning his gaze back to the screen. All the colour had drained from his face, but his chin was raised. He wasn't about to back down, either. "He's been dead for years…"

"First correction, I am Swiss." The screen chimed in, as Steve made his way around the back of the desk, as if expecting the man himself to be cowering behind it. "Secondly, look around you. I have never been more alive."

Was this what this room really was? His mind, in the form of old tapes and machinery, in out-dated technology and a large screen?

Zola continued. "In 1972, I received a terminal diagnosis. Science could not save my body. My mind, however, was worth saving, on two hundred feet of database. You are standing in my brain."

Natasha allowed herself a small triumphant smile as she kept herself a foot in front of this psycho. She refused to let herself get caught off guard, not when they were in such a sticky situation. Something was going to go wrong soon, she could feel it in her gut.

"How did you get here?" Steve demanded, coming to stand once again at Nat's side.

"I believe your pretty lady has already worked that out, too, Captain."

Natasha could have shuddered from the way the camera locked onto her, as if narrowing in calculated judgement. "Operation Paperclip, just after World War II, where SHIELD recruited German scientists with strategic value." Her mind scrambled for any other pieces of information she had picked up over her years with Fury, however, they were only coming back to her slowly, like glimpses rather than visions.

"They thought I could help their cause." Zola said smugly. "I also helped my own."

"HYDRA died with the Red Skull." Steve said tensely, his body stiff as a board as he battled with himself in his head. HYDRA had to be gone, because otherwise, what had they all been fighting for all those decades ago? All those lives...his own sacrifice, it couldn't have been for nothing…

Sensing his internal struggle, Natasha placed her hand on his arm. She didn't squeeze or move away, but kept it there, as a gentle, consistent reminder that Steve wasn't facing this alone.

"Cut off one head, two more shall take its place." Zola's voice rang through the cold, empty room.

Steve's jaw locked. "Prove it."

For a moment, Natasha wondered if Zola would just refuse and blow his whole system to pieces. But, that wasn't what the evil mastermind wanted. No, he wanted them to hear what he had to say. He wanted to poison their mind with dark secrets and twisted truths.

And yet, speaking to them was a the voice of someone who seemed to know them. She felt as if those dark eyes on the screen were looking right through her, into her mind, pushing through doors that had remained firmly shut for so many years. Her palms felt sweaty with the fear that this Zola character might expose something about her that she had long ago buried.

Suddenly, the screen in front of them changed. The green face was replaced with a black and white image of a man who was unfamiliar to her, but Steve instantly recognised him and glared at the screen.

"HYDRA was founded on the belief that humanity could not be trusted with it's own freedom. What we did not realise, was that if you try to take that freedom, they resist."

The image changed once again, showing troops departing from a boat onto a shore, splashing through the water while they carried their heavy weapons. Some of them were small enough to be barely considered men, boys that had just turned eighteen and desperate to prove themselves. Then, the screen showed Steve, as he had been back then, fighting and defending, like he did best. Natasha grabbed his hand then, seeing how Steve's face broke apart watching this all flash in front of his face. Planes brought down bombs onto the towns, exploding and destroying everything. Houses were brought down to piles of rubble, fires were too big to be distinguished.

"The war taught us much," Zola continued, as the face of Howard Stark appeared on the screen, closely followed by the brunette that Steve couldn't seem to bear to speak of. "Humanity needed to surrender it's freedom willingly. After the war, SHIELD was founded, and I was recruited. The new HYDRA grew, a beautiful parasite inside SHIELD. For the last seventy years, HYDRA has been secretly feeding crises, weeping wars, and when history did not cooperate, history was changed."

Natasha froze. "That's impossible. SHIELD would have stopped you-"

Zola interrupted her. "Accidents will happen."

The screen flickered to a newspaper article, which once again held the face of Howard Stark. The caption above it drew the breath out of her lungs. Howard and Maria Stark Die in Car Accident. Tony had never spoken much about his parents, and when he had, he had always winced, as if even thinking about them was so painfully sad that he couldn't bear it.

Then, Nick Fury's file was on the screen, with the large stamp of 'Decreased' crossing that familiar face of the former SHIELD Director..

"HYDRA created a world so chaotic that humanity is finally ready to sacrifice it's freedom to gain it's security. Once the purification process is complete, HYDRA'S new world order will arise."

This had been going on for decades. Every crisis, every war, had been seeds of HYDRA'S destruction, ready to take over the world for once and for all. The effects of the war had been brave, but they had proven to be in vain. Perhaps, the world had become too vulnerable.

"We won, Captain." Zola taunted, as if he could reach into Steve's mind and hear where his thoughts were heading, to the horror and anger that swelled inside him. "Your death amounts to the same as your life - a zero sum."

"Steve, no-!" Natasha cried out, but it was too late.

Steve's fist collided with the screen in front of them with such force that the entire thing shattered into a thousand different parts. No glass fell, but some had embedded themselves into Steve's skin. His entire body was shaking with the rage that threatened to overwhelm him.

Natasha reached for him, but another screen to their left lit up, taking both their attention away from what Steve had just done.

"As I was saying," Zola's voice floated back into the room, unwanted and hated.

"What's on this drive?" Steve demanded, only Natasha's grip on his arm held him back from smashing another screen in his fury.

"Project Insight requires...sight." Zola said carelessly, teasing them with the information that they wanted, but not handing it over. It was like a cat toying with a mouse, right before the mouse became dinner. "So, I wrote an algorithm."

Natasha brushed her way past Steve without dropping her hand from him. "What type of algorithm? What does it do?"

"Stop playing games with us," Steve growled.

"The answer to your question is fascinating. Unfortunately, Captain, you and your lady will be too dead to hear it."

The doorway they had used to enter the room began to seal shut. Steve's shield flew towards it, but it was too late, and bounced off the now closed off exit. He caught it just as Natasha's device sounded in alarm.

"Steve," She said, panic slipping into her voice. "We got a bogey. Short range ballistic. Thirty seconds tops."

"Who fired it?" He demanded. They hadn't planned for this. He'd let them go into that bunker unprepared, because he had been so desperate to find answers. He'd led her right into a trap.

She met his gaze. "SHIELD."

Zola made a noise that sounded like a proud chuckle. "I'm afraid I have been stalling, Captain. "Admit it, it's better this way. We are both out of time."

"Nat!" Steve shouted, spotting a large vent on the floor and grabbing it. He ripped it from it's bracket and chucked it away, allowing it to collide with several framed tapes. Natasha grabbed the UBS out of the holder and darted to his side. His arm wrapped around her tightly before they jumped, landing on the hard stone floor below. He covered them both with his shield just as everything around them exploded.

He shouted as the ceiling crumbled around them, holding her tightly against him, keeping her under the protection of the SHIELD, the only chance they had of getting out of here alive. He cursed himself for acting so impulsively, of not even scanning the room for an escape plan. How had he not realised that Zola was just toying with them, wasting their time to ensure they would be sitting ducks? If anything happened to Nat, he'd never, ever forgive himself.

She clung to his body as rubble and fire erupted behind them. At least, a dark part of her mind thought triumphantly, Zola's horrible voice and files would be gone for good. She never wanted to hear him again.

The weight of the ceiling was becoming too much for him, but he clenched his jaw and refused to give in. All his strength was leaving his body, but he couldn't allow anything to happen to her.

"Steve-"

Whatever she was going to say was interrupted by a large chunk of the building landing on top of them, and everything went dark.

~0~0~0~0~0~

Question: What is your favourite Marvel Film?

I'd have to say mine was Civil War, and I'm not even sure why. I just really enjoyed it. It would be between that and Infinity War, because that battle scene in Wakanda was just incredible.

- E x