Kat is, Steve learned with time, a stubborn person whose only guidance she follows is her own. Natasha, broken by the Red Room and her past, had found some kind of peace in trusting someone implicitly in the person of Steve; like a tranquil surrender. Kat, still young and immaculate, is a force of nature to be reckoned with; strong-willed and unwavering.
It, therefore, took weeks before he heard the remote sound of classical music playing in her bedroom. But this one morning as he walks along the hall, her voice calls after him excitedly. He turns around, grins fondly upon seeing the beaming smile across her face.
"I need to show you something," she says, waving a hand.
He comes into her room and she makes him stand by the chest of drawers before carefully closing the door behind him. One of Mozart's symphony is playing on the stereo; he recognizes it instantly — it used to be one of Natasha's favorite piece.
Kat walks to the middle of the room, smiles nervously then nervously breathes in. Her features relax the next moment, her body stands square, then she lifts her arms halfway in the air and sways a leg forward. He notices the pair of pointed shoes at her feet. After a short pause, she swings the same leg backward: it soars high up with an astounding easiness as her torso gently leans over in the opposite direction. Her leg gracefully goes back down to the floor. She stands upright again, breathes in, pushes herself up. Her heels take off the wooden floor, her feet stand erect as the whole weight of her body, lightless it seems, lies on her toes.
Steve watches the feat with unconcealed amazement and his eyes begin to gleam from the sweetness of past memories.
Her heels descend back to the floor without a sound. Kat lets out a big breath and chuckles.
"It took a while to get there but I can't believe it got back to me so easily," she says with a smile.
He clears his throat and laughs as he cups her face between his hands.
"It's amazing," he answers with the right dose of enthusiasm not to lay any form of pressure on her shoulders. "I'm proud of you."
She leans in and pecks his lips. "It's hard but I like it. I like the discipline of it. Quite a change for me who is usually all over the place."
She glances over his shoulder at the clock.
"I have to get downstairs," she says. She scurries to the stereo, switches it off, then sits on the edge of the bed to untie the ribbons around her calves. She then rolls them the shoes and puts them on the bed.
Then she disappears behind the door — the footsteps echo down the stairway. He slowly goes to sit on the bed and his fingers stroke the smooth fabric of the ribbons lying loosely on the bed linen.
Life at Miller's Guesthouse goes on peacefully and routinely. Guests check in and out and days mostly consist of housework, DIY, strolls with Riley and conversations with Eliza.
Steve and Kat have made it a point to avoid any PDA in front of her, not exactly out of respect, but for the sake of minimizing comments from her part. Her knowing smirks and looks are still there, though.
One evening after dinner, after Kat has tucked Eliza in, she suggests they go on a walk. Riley excitedly wags her tail as she whizzes through the front door.
They walk, walking hands, under a clear sky on a full moon; the sound of birds twittering and grasshoppers chirping guide their way like background music. He has grown used to that melody.
"Summer is almost over," she says musingly. "It's gonna get pretty quiet around here. It might get boring for you even."
"I'm sure I can survive it. I've had to deal with worse."
She smirks. "Never underestimate the ravaging power of monotony the countryside holds."
He smiles. "Noted. I won't let my guard down."
She stops and turns to look at him. "Do you mean that? Staying longer?"
He gazes into her eyes. "I'm right where I want to be right now."
After a pause, he adds: "Besides, finishing all the home improvement has kind of become a point of honor with me."
She rolls her eyes playfully. "I know how much Captain America values honor. I wouldn't want to stand in the way of that."
He sniggers. "Please, I'm sure Bucky would a lot to say about that. I'm not as nice as I seem."
She cocks an eyebrow, intrigued. "Really?"
"I've been a fugitive quite a few times."
"In the name of justice and liberty."
"I've destroyed state property."
"Collateral damage," she shrugs it off with a cocky expression.
"I used to get in fights at movie theatres."
She feigns to yawn. "I'm sure they deserved it."
"Not really. They were just too loud for my liking."
"Oh please. Have you ever done something crazy for the sake of fun?"
He frowns. "I'm sure I have," he comments musingly.
The air is hot and heavy this evening, she realizes. Her hands go up to the buttons under her collar and swiftly begin to unfasten them.
"What are you doing?" he asks, noticeably alarmed.
"Challenging you to some midnight skinny-dipping, if you're up for it."
The dress slips off her shoulders and falls on the grass.
He laughs softly. "Please, that's hardly a challenge."
"Ok, then. The last one in the water has to wash the dishes."
His eyes widen and shoot up at her. They stare at each other for a second before Kat runs past him to the wooden pier farther down. He funs after her, slipping his shirt off in the process and throwing it behind him. Riley is running along with them in unclear excitement. He's now unbuckling his belt when Kat slips the straps of her bra off of her and unclasp it. It falls right next to one of his shoes.
They run along the pier and, coming to the edge, stop. He swiftly takes off his shoes and socks as Kat pulls the pin out of her hair and, swaying her hips, lets her underwear fall off to the ground. He unbuttons his jeans and drops them to the floor.
Kat exclaims in utter outrage: "Cheater. You're not wearing any underwear!"
Both jump into the water in a loud splash. Riley is wagging her tail from the pier, watching them closely.
They come back to the surface and laugh together.
"I don't want to be this person," he begins slowly, "but I got in first."
"You wish," she sniggers before diving back into the water.
He feels her swim right by his side, as the meanders made by her flapping legs spread out around him. Her fingers suddenly pinch one of his buttocks. He throws his arms in the water and captures her, pulls her back to the surface.
"Physical assault won't change anything," he exclaims. She spits the water that is in her mouth right at him and laughs. "Oh, you wait," he begins but she swims away.
He grabs her ankle and pulls her back to him as she attempts to escape. Trapped again into his arms, she turns to look at him.
He is still laughing and she smiles fondly. She comes closer to him.
"I'm coming with you," she says, "to the compound. I want you to show me what your life is like."
His expression turns serious. "You don't have to if you're not ready."
She puts her palm on the side of his face. "Except I'm ready. You've done so much for me, now it's my turn to give back. It's who I used to be and I should know all about it. We could spend a few days there."
He smiles. "That'd be great."
Her thumb runs along his bottom lip. "It's settled then."
Her eyes dart to his mouth then she leans in to kiss them. She presses her body against his torso, closing up the space between them. He slips his hands under her legs and wraps them around his waist.
"I'll admit I never made love in the water," his husky voice whispers into her ear.
"I thought you were a pro of skinny-dipping," she murmurs back.
"Yeah! With Buck."
She throws her head backward and laughs. Then he presses her back against the thick foot of the pier nearby and kisses her again.
A few days later, they are on their way to the compound. Katherine could not convince Eliza to stay at someone else's house but she made sure the Donovans would come and visit daily while she is away.
She hugs her tight. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" she asks again.
Eliza smiles. "I don't belong to that world. It is only right you go with the most-suited person," she answers, glancing at Steve.
"You would fit there just fine," Katherine answers. "Besides I'm only away for a few days. I'll be back soon."
They are now on the Avengers jet with Sam and Bucky. During the flight, Katherine wanders out of her seat to stand behind the pilot's seat, gazing at the spectacular view ahead.
"Not surprised," Sam smirks. "It is your seat after all. You loved flying this beauty."
She glances down at the control board, watches how Sam's hands firmly hold the handle with a gentle grip. "Yeah," she clears her throat, "I can see why."
And her eyes dive back into the infinite horizon.
The jet eventually touches down and she feels her heartbeat quicken as the back door open, opening the path to what was once her life. Steve gives her a reassuring nod, sensing her nervousness and together, make their way to the bright open space.
Clint is standing a few feet away with his arms crossed and a slightly tense look. His expression softens, mellows, as soon as he sees her, and his arms fall to his side.
Steve glances over at Sam. "I guess he got here after we took off," Wilson comments.
Clint walks over to them and holds Katherine in his arms, eyelids closed tightly, jaw clenched.
"I missed you," he tells her after pulling away, looking into her eyes.
"I'm glad to see you too," she answers with a small, genuine grin.
Behind him stand faces she has only seen on the Internet. A young woman, with a slender figure and long, wavy hair, steps forward with watery eyes.
"I'm Wanda," she says softly. "You…mentored me."
Katherine nods. "It's nice to meet you," she says. Wanda hesitantly puts her hand on her shoulder, squeezes it a bit then finally steps closer and holds her in her arms sheepishly.
Another man is standing behind her, tall and square. His posture which betrays his military discipline is toned down by the emotional expression cast over his face.
He holds her in his arms, rubbing her back fondly.
"My name's Rhodey. I was unofficially was best friend — we all knew but deemed it best not to steal Clint's thunder. He's a prideful guy."
Barton rolls his eyes.
"Both points dully noted," Kat says. She then turns and looks at the tall figure standing a little away from the group, watching dolefully.
She comes over to him while Steve's downcast eyes dart away.
"Hi. I'm Bruce," he murmurs softly and the tears that have gathered in his eyes glisten through his reading glasses. He pauses, suddenly at a loss of words, as the bittersweet realization that she is indeed sanding here dawns on him. "Kat," he eventually continues, "It's so good to see you."
"Thank you, Bruce." She speaks thoughtfully.
Some silence falls upon them which he finds unsettling. He rubs his temple, smiles nervously and blurts out: "You and I used to be close. We had a thing."
Someone among the group clears their throat, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Steve sighs silently and glances down at his shoes.
"Oh," she raises an eyebrow, pouting slightly.
Bruce realizes he has made a blunder and backtracks with a small laugh. "I mean when I was still human...normal size."
Katherine squeezes her lips together, grins awkwardly before Clint holds her arms and takes her inside.
"I'm sorry," Banner mumbles after she's gone. "I was only trying to break the ice! I didn't mean to weird her out."
"It wasn't that horrible," Rhodey says cordially.
"I did it too," Bucky chimes in, "kinda."
The men glance at one another knowingly.
"It's alright," Steve eventually says as he comes up to him.
Bruce sighs, facepalming. "It can't get worse, at least."
Clint takes her to what used to be her bedroom, dutifully untouched. It takes her a moment to sit on the edge of the bed, like some kind of surrender or acceptance to make it hers too. Clint sits next to her, chats and eventually shows her photos of his family.
After lunch, the team gathers in the briefing room. Katherine sits at the corner of the table and listens through the meeting like a diligent intern. They use codes and vocabulary that she does not quite understand. Her attention eventually dwells on Steve as she watches how he naturally reprises his role within the team. He does not speak much, lets Sam and Rhodey lead the discussion, but his attentiveness and his pertinent comments do not go unnoticed. She notices how everybody in the room unconsciously gravitates around him, around his authority, like some automatism. All look at and listen to him whenever he speaks with utmost respect and appreciation — the kind of respect and appreciation that is built through time, earned legitimately.
The Avengers look up to him not because he is Captain America, but because he has proven he is the worthy leaders this team needs.
Part of her admires him; part of her can't help but feel inadequate.
After a busy afternoon during which the team basically took turns to catch up with her, dinner turns out to be a laidback, light-hearted moment where she begins to feel at ease, and finds to some extent, a sense of belonging.
Later that evening, Clint offers to walk her back to her bedroom. She and Steve glance at each other, across the table, before she finally nods and leaves the room with Barton.
After a long after-midnight chat with Bucky, Steve eventually makes his way back to his bedroom. It is striking how he first finds it to be cold and unwelcoming. After some time, he begins to find his bearings, and old routine, again. Lying in the moonlit room, he does not catch sight of the slim figure that tiptoes across the wide window and makes its way into his bed. He opens his eyes and finds the most beautiful familiar face.
"Hey," she says.
"Hi," he whispers back with a smile.
He lifts his sheet so she can slip underneath. She presses her back against his torso and lies her head on his arm. He wraps his other arm around her waist.
"I…," she trails off. "The other bedroom felt like it was someone else's."
Her confession doesn't leave him indifferent.
"It's okay," he says. "I'd rather you sleep in my arms, anyways."
"I'm glad you're here," she says. "I could not have done this without you."
He buries his face into her neck, breathes in her scent.
"I know today mustn't have felt easy. Those things take time, and you should have all the time in the world for it."
She reaches for his hand and kisses it. Soon, she drifts off.
The following morning, the team is called for a robbery in New York. Only a few members get there while Katherine stays in the control room with Banner and Steve.
She follows the mission through the CCTV playing on the holographic screen. She nervously bites her thumb, leg up on the other knee, foot shaking throughout.
The thrill is almost hypnotic and her eyes never leave the screen. Her body is in the room but her mind is in that bank with them.
The missions goes swiftly and the robbers are quickly caught.
When everyone is in the facility, Katherine quietly stares across at Wanda. Her fingers are drawing lines over the kitchen table.
"You were fantastic…out there," she eventually tells the young woman who stares back at her quizzically. "I admire your courage — and grace— especially, at such a young age."
Wanda smiles. "Everything I learned, I learned it from you. I wouldn't be half the person I am now if it weren't for your guidance."
Kat glances down at the table and nods musingly.
"You mean half the warrior, I suppose," she comments dolefully but with acceptance. She supposes Scarlett Witch learnt a lot from the Black Widow.
Wanda shakes her head assertively. "No, person."
She reaches over to hold her hand. "You were like a big sister to me."
She feels her eyes sting a little and she quietly nibbles her thumb in defense mechanism. She appreciates Wanda's tactful response in avoiding to put any sort of pressure in getting this big sister back.
"Thank you, Wanda. It means a lot."
F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s voice echoes across the compound: some wanted criminals have just been spotted in a warehouse in the outskirts of Washington D.C.
The team gathers in the briefing room. Kat is leaning against the doorframe. Steve has worked on the case and knows it well; he gives the instructions.
As all leave the room to get changed, Katherine walks up to him.
"I'm coming," she says determinedly. "I want to be in."
Steve takes a breath in, gazes at her.
"Ok," he says. "Suit up."
She enters the changing with a pounding heart, her eyes skim across the names on the many lockers, until they fall on the one that reads "Natasha."
She takes hold of the handle and gently opens it like it is a sarcophagus. The metal door opens without a sound. She gulps down as her eyes roam over all the different pieces of the outfit.
She grazes the fabric of the khaki vest on one of the hangers. She glances down and carefully touches the bracelets; they immediately switch on and shine a light blue color.
As intimating as it looks, she also finds it very cool.
Waiting inside the jet, Steve freezes at the familiar sight of the Black Widow outfit as Kat steps onboard alongside Clint. He regains composure and gives the call for the jet to take off.
He repeats the instructions again. Barton is to station himself at the antenna tower by the warehouse, he and Bucky are to enter from the front, Wanda and Katherine from the back while Sam and Rhodey are to secure the perimeter.
"We'll get their attention from the start and all will rush to the main door. The back should be empty," he says, glancing at Kat.
She nods: that is enough adrenaline for a first time.
The mission goes according to the plan when Katherine and Wanda make it into the warehouse. Distant gunshots echo across the building. They walk along a wide hall when a man emerges from around the corner. He holds up their rifles, fingers on the trigger when Wanda moves her hands and a bright red light wraps around him and violently propels him over the fence.
Katherine stares at Wanda with a mix of admiration and fear.
"You officially have the coolest superpowers," she comments.
Wanda smirks. "Make sure to say that in front of Strange when he visits."
They walk farther down the empty hall.
"Lone targets in the right wing," Sam's voice says on the line.
"We're busy at the moment," Bucky responds.
Wanda presses two fingers on the transmitter. "I'm on it," she says. She then turns to Katherine. "Stay here." She complies with a nod and Wanda uses her powers to take off and fly away.
Kat cautiously walks along the hall without straying. Suspicious sounds echo behind her. She jumps in surprise and flips around, restlessly looking all around her. The sounds sound out again louder and two men appear in front of her.
Her heart skips a beat and she instinctively takes a step back. She holds her hand up, aims at one and shoots her bite. It hits him and the criminal falls to the floor. The other one has his rifle up and pulls the trigger.
"Target in the back hall," she calls through the transmitter.
She turns right and runs off: the bullets hit the wall behind her.
She runs as fast as she can, and the speed at which she does astounds her. She hears running footsteps behind but dares not glance over her shoulder.
She gets to the main hall and runs along the very high metal shelves towering over her. Gunshots fly just above her head and she ducks before turning to another aisle, and another. She stealthily sneaks along the aisles until he has lost her for good.
She stands behind crates to catch her breath. This part of the warehouse is dauntingly silent. After a minute, she peeks through and steps out of her hiding place. Suddenly strong arms clutch around her from behind. She lets out a cry and throw her leg upwards, kicking the target in the face. He lets go of her at first and she kicks the rifle away from his grip.
He punches her in the face, deflects her hits and pins her down to the floor. His heavy body straddles her and his gloved hands clasp her throat tightly. She is gasping for air, helpless. She tries to kick with her legs but his weight and the strength dangerously leaving her make it impossible.
Her terrified eyes plunge into his and find nothing but cold indifference. Her mind goes hazy, blurs with the thousand of shapeless thoughts invading it. But in the terror of this moment, she manages to form one, a not so remote memory. She folds her legs, puts her feet on the floor to gain momentum before throwing them upwards. She wraps her legs around the man's head and shoulders and flips their bodies over. She presses her knee deep onto the criminal's throat until his face turns red. His lids flutter and he soon goes unconscious. His grip around her loosens until his arms fall to the ground.
She drops her head and sighs in relief.
But the sound of a gun echoes above. She looks up and finds another target aiming at her from the top floor. He pulls the trigger and the bullet pierces through the air. She closes her eyes, feels a swift motion then hears the rattling sound of metal.
When she opens her eyes, she finds Steve standing in front of her with his shield held up in front of her. He emerges from behind it and jolts it at the criminal who falls to the floor, knocked out.
"You okay?" he asks, kneeling in front of her with an alarmed expression. She breathes out a yes.
He cups her face and sighs in relief. Then he speaks on the transmitter: "Warehouse secure. Over."
The following night, Steve and Kat are lying in his bed, their naked bodies entangled harmoniously, the sheet at their feet. He strokes the side of her face with his fingers.
"You were so brave, today," he whispers musingly. It is a thought that makes him both proud and scared.
"I hardly was. I ran away."
He smiles and his fingers roam along her throat, trace the curve of her breast.
"That's not what courage is about. You came with us; you faced your fear and fought."
She bits her bottom lip. "I'll admit it's not something I thought I was capable of."
"You're capable of anything," he says. "That's what makes you you."
Her pupils quiver. "I'm not sure I know what makes me me. It's unsettling. Truly terrifying."
"But I do, and this is everything I love about you."
His eyes gleam under the bedside lamp with a soft grin. She stares at him with an unexpected cool expression. "Don't say that," she says hardly. "Not if it's not real."
He frowns. "It is real," he says.
She pulls away and turns to look at the ceiling. "It is real…for someone else. This is how you feel about Natasha, not me."
He pauses. "I'm not gonna pretend the situation isn't complicated, but my feelings for you are the only thing that isn't."
"You're not seeing clearly," she says as she gets up, reaches over for the shirt and pants on the floor. "You cannot pretend that your feelings are for the country girl that I am."
He wraps the sheet around his waist and rises.
"You're more than that."
"That is all that I am now," she answers back loudly. She pauses at the sight of his lost expression and steps toward the bed. She caresses his cheek with her face. "I don't have any memories and we both know it is unlikely I'll ever get them back. I don't want to lead you on or hold your hopes up. You need to ask yourself if you are ready to live with that for the rest of your life. Only then will I accept the idea that you do love me for who I am right now."
And she walks out of the room.