Cross my heart, hope to die, I really don't own Marvel.

She's yet to talk to him. It's been another week and aside from their introductions two weeks prior, she hasn't spoken to the soldier. He hasn't either.

Natasha was walking through the halls to get to a meeting room. When she entered she saw the soldier in one chair, Fury in another, and Tony Stark.

"I want my suits back," Stark said directly to her. She didn't respond, taking a seat next to the captain instead.

"We weren't the ones that took them," said the director.

Stark fumbles with his chin, then leaning back on the chair he says, "Well I'm sure she was present when she was making punching bags out of the security."

"It was merely for clandestine purposes," the woman said with a grin. "Wouldn't wanna crash your party."

The billionaire clicked his tongue and huffed in disbelief. "We needed those files so the government wouldn't take them. They were for your safety."

"I'm going to give it to them," he responded.

"And they will confiscate them," said the redhead.

"As opposed to what you're currently doing." The engineer said with sarcasm, growing irritated.

Natasha eyes Fury before sighing. "If we didn't take those files, you wouldn't have the ability to keep your suits. The Defense isn't too happy that you made them."

"What are you doing with them? You're the government, too."

"Not exactly," Fury said, standing up. "I'm working on an initiative that will allow you to keep them. You can privatize it. We're the government, but we're more special than that," the director said with an all-knowing smirk.

His pitch caused the billionaire to sit back on the chair. Tony was thinking about it. "And what's the catch?"

"You have to fight," Fury said. Natasha was confused now. She hadn't known the extent that this mission led to. She wasn't sure of the whole purpose.

"You want me"-Stark pointed at himself-"to fight for you?"

"No," the director commanded attention. "For everyone."

Natasha looked at him, now lost.

"You can continue doing your own thing, or, like a soldier, use your suit for good," Nick Fury was compelling.

"Can I sleep on it?" Tony said, his humor a mechanism to his confusion; not something he felt very often. The man with the eyepatch nodded. "Also, what's he doing here?" He pointed at the soldier.

"Steve Rogers," said the man as he put out his hand.

"As in the dead guy from 1945?" Tony shook his hand, perplexed. It sounded rude, but Steve understood.

"Yep, that's me," he smiled. "I'm not part of the meeting, just wanted to meet you." The engineer nodded, still confused and Steve could sense it. "I was good friends with your father, that's why." Tony froze, suddenly interested.

"I know you were. I didn't hear the end of it. He wasn't a great father, so I don't really know how much better of a friend he was," Tony dodged the conversation, striking a kind of pain within the soldier. "And if you'll excuse me, robot thieves, I will consider your proposal. I'll find my way out." He left the room eerie.

"I thought he'd like that I brought it up," Steve said apologetically.

Fury walked by him, tapping his back, "People are different." And he left.

"He's a character," said the woman in the room. She was still in her seat.

"A good one?" The Captain asked.

"I don't know. Deep down, probably. Pretty rude on the outside, though," she stood and went to walk away but the soldier didn't take that as the end of the conversation. He walked beside her.

"His father had the same kind of pride," Steve said. Natasha sensed that this was more than small talk, so she continues.

"What was he like?"

"Definitely a good one, deep down and in the shallows," he continued. "He made this place, so I think we can all agree."

The spy stopped in her tracks. "Have you made up your mind about S.H.I.E.L.D. then?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Everyone I've encountered says the same thing. It's all a mission fighting for the better."

"They're right," she crossed her arms on her chest and leaned on a banister. They were in a place where if she fell backwards she'd land on the floor underneath them.

"I can just go back to the army," said Steve, leaning on the wall across from where she was.

"Are you looking for a war?"

"It's kind of all I've ever known. It's what I am."

"I don't think that's true," she said, sympathizing and uncrossing her arms, leaning them on the banister instead. "There's more to you than what your past tells you."

"But you all fight wars, don't you?"

"No," she sighs. "We prevent them from happening in the first place." He nods in accordance, still unsure about what to think. She starts walking again and she gestures for him to come with her. "It's counter-terrorism. We're made for national and global security."

"Yeah, I know. You're just echoing Fury."

"Because it's true," she said. Natasha enters. "I don't really think you understand the magnitude of what we do here." They entered the elevator.

"I guess not," he said. "Threats are everywhere. I woke up seventy years into the future, I don't really know if I'm supposed to trust anything."

She nodded. "Loyalty's kind of a big thing here." The elevator dinged and the doors open to rows and rows of computers with people wearing something around their head. They were speaking into it and Rogers thinks that they can hear through it as well. "People measure threats from everywhere." In the middle of the floor was a globe of the world. He couldn't even fathom that the technology exists. It was turning on its axis and he can see through it. "It's called a hologram," the spy said, noticing his curiosity. "But you can also touch it," she said as she hit the Middle East. There were red and blue spots everywhere. It reminded Steve of the missions he had during the war. They used maps and red pins instead. I guess this works, too. He thought to himself. "The red are deemed hostiles or questionable people. The blue are friendlies and clandestine stations."

"What do you do with the red?"

"Nothing. We just monitor them until they do something," she said, zooming out and returning it to the globe it initially was. Steve looked around at the people in their desks, working on their computers. It was astonishing just how quickly the world had moved past him. "This is the communications floor. A lot of our intel can be found through here. They work like partners, where one person could be here and another in Berlin. Those agents report to each other, and the one who receives information here inputs it into the system."

"What kind of things are they looking for?"

"Everything," said the spy as she gleamed at Steve. He was taking in the whole place, looking at every screen and every corner of the room. "I specialize in espionage. Fury did, too. And Clint," she smiles, "Well, he's a great shot. Great at shooting and calling the shots."

"His combat skills are pretty above average, too, if I may understate," the soldier said that got a laugh out of the woman.

"Yes, they are," she said. "There are many other people who do other things. They can specialize in intelligence and work down here. But we also have pilots, snipers, tacticians, logistics, you name it." Steve was silent, taking in everything he can see. "We're soldiers, too, Steve," she said faintly.

He nodded. "I know," he said. "But soldiers are pawns to a bigger game. You follow every command, you respect authority, without knowing which side is the correct one."

"And that's why we have these people to figure out what side we're on," she said, standing next to him. "Every single person in this room is given every single side to every single story that comes in."

"But do you understand my wariness?"

"Completely," she said with a smile. "That's why you're given time to figure it out." They walked back to the elevator.

"Sometimes I wonder if I can just live in a ranch, milk my own cows, sit on the couch and just live a normal life," he said. Natasha chuckled at the thought.

"Even you know you can't do that."

"How so?"

"Because you're Captain America," she said. "Everyone knows your story, your legacy. Your willpower is beyond human and you can't go to sleep knowing people are in danger and you aren't doing anything about it. That's not who you are."

He looks at the floor. It's not that she was wrong. "I'm surprised you know so much."

"Peggy Carter did so much to keep your name alive," she said. "This whole organization is named after you."

He perked at the sound of her. "She really did."

It was all the words they spoke to each other when alarms started ringing in the compound. The woman in front of him turned into a whole different being. She looked like she was all business, the same demeanor when he had met her. Red lights were ringing everywhere as the elevator door opened. She clicked something in her ear. "What's going on?" She said aloud. Steve didn't hear the conversation that was happening. "How? All systems were secure, we were just up there." Natasha started running, so Steve followed, listening for the clues she's spitting out loud. The woman unhitched a gun and tossed it behind her, Steve caught it. "I'm with Steve, we'll find them." She faced him. "There's a breach in the compound. They're infiltrating all floors and something tells me they're looking for something." He nodded. They were back on the training floor, the floor he knew all too well because he's been sequestered there ever since he awoke.

"I'll take right, you take left. There's only four exits in this place and if they're in here, we can lock them in a corner. If they're not, we have advantage at targeting them," he said.

The redhead nodded at his orders. "Really sorry you don't have a shield right now." He just shrugged it off and they parted, their feet barely making noise as they hit the floor.

Steve has his gun up, alert. Man, I really miss that shield. He reaches a corner, facing his back against it and turning to see if a hostile was there. Negative. The friendlies had followed protocol to evacuate the floor when the noise sounded, so there was no one else there except for the agent and the soldier. The elevator stopped too late, not giving them a chance to leave, the hostiles were already on their way. And then he heard a door open, footfalls resounded and Russian echoed. Thank the heavens he knew how to speak that.

"Find her," a man with a deep voice said. He got confused. The soldier understood, but didn't really know what it meant. "We don't want anymore widows walking around." Steve, still not understanding what that meant, turned the corner, counting the hostiles while covering himself. There were ten. Could really use that shield now, he said to himself. They were in suits, looking very important. Steve didn't have a comm to tell Natasha that he had found them. She was probably still circling the corner, he assumed, so he decided to do it himself. The man who was talking was tall and strong. He wasn't holding a weapon, but the nine others had large armaments. Steve calculated his next move, and when one hostile took a step, he rounded the corner and fired one bullet, straight into his throat.

"Kill him" he heard the man say in Russian. Rounds were being fired his way but he took cover around the corner. He ran inside one of the training rooms, hiding behind a post for cover.

"Come out!" Said a hostile with a hard accent. Steve hears only two sets of footsteps. He rolls out, taking cover behind the scaffold of the training platform. The two guys fired rounds aimlessly. And he heard one of them climb up on the platform, walking his way as he's cornered by the other. In an instant, he twists the man's wrist from above him, disarming him. This caused the other suit to fire his direction and Steve used his captive as a shield, resulted in the suit killing his teammate. He rolls off the platform and fires a bullet straight into the man's temple. Steve takes a gun and hitches the Glock Natasha had given him in the back of his pants. He'd only fired two shots anyway, but we're still saving ammo here.

By his calculations, Natasha had seven hostiles waiting for her outside. He hurries and was met with someone waiting by the door. He quickly drops his now very large weapon and averts the barrel that the hostile was facing towards him. He gets a punch in the stomach, and gets kneed in the face when he crouches. Shots were fired from a different direction, hitting him in the shoulder. He groans and uses the unconscious man as a shield again. Really, really miss my shield. And then throws the now very dead hostile on top of the other. He was met with a kick in the face when he tries to get up. Five more.

He rounds the corner and sees the very capable Agent Romanoff striking a suit. She holds his neck between her legs, spins, and throws him on the floor. He was met with a zap to the face from her wrists. Steve didn't know what it was but he was definitely surprised by it.

Steve counts four on the ground, all taken by the spy. "There's one more," he said. But then a set of footsteps were heard through one of the exits. "Nevermind."

"There's only two of us, Steve. I know we can handle a lot, but that's a lot," Natasha said, hitching her gun. "We have to move."

"But what about everyone else?"

"Everyone from the floors above us have evacuated."

"How?" They were running now, trying to get to one of the four exits that Natasha knew none of the hostiles would be going through.

"There's an exit that leads to one of the basements. Clint says they entered through the front, so they don't have eyes on that one. That's the evacuation protocol." They heard gunshots being fired through the hallway and Natasha turns, jumping on Steve as he continues to run. She was poised like a backpack worn on the front. She was faced the opposite, essentially riding the soldier as she shoots the hostiles behind them. Steve, still running, slides his arm back and takes the gun hitched behind him and throws it up for Natasha to catch. She takes it and easily shoots the four hostiles on their tail. After eliminating them, she hitches the gun back where it had been in his pants, jumps down from him, and runs beside him again. "That's the one," she said as he kicks the door open to a room of stairs.

"Target acquired", they both hear someone say in Russian a few floors above where they came from.

"What does that even mean?" The soldier says.

"He said 'target acquired'."

"I know, but what does it mean?"

"You speak Russian?" The woman asked. They both hear the deployment of some sort of large gun. An explosive landed just behind them, sending both in the air. Steve was able to hold onto the railing, and ended up catching Natasha in the process, groaning as the strain of the shoulder wound pains him. While in the air, the spy catches a glimpse of the hostile and shoots at him, four flights down, bullseye to the forehead. He swings her to the next of the lower flights of stairs and he jumps down with her.

"Yeah, among others," he says, continuing their conversation like nothing had happened.

"Good I can talk crap to you about Clint when he's around," she jokes, hearing Clint yell over the intercom in her ear.

They reach one of the basements and Natasha opens up the door, only to be met with more people. "Oh, shit."

"I thought you said this was concealed."

"It's supposed to be," she says. She fired three shots, each to the head of a few of the perpetrators. Steve gets shot again, a through-and-through on his side. He grunts in pain, but continues running. He grabs a metal panel, using it as a shield. This will do, I guess. Shots were being fired as he ran towards the hostiles, running them over and knocking them to unconsciousness with four hits. He hears the spy groan, a shot made it in her thigh. He counts four more hostiles, all moving towards Natasha. The soldier wields the makeshift shield at all four of them, knocking three down, enough for the spy to shoot the standing one. Steve takes one of the ones on the ground and Natasha takes two.

The one Steve was against was a surprisingly good combatant, matching him almost. He realizes that he was the man giving orders, the one who didn't have a weapon. He had a distinct mustache and his physique peered through the suit. A shot was fired and another groan left the spy. This one was through the forearm. Steve landed enough punches to send the big man in a stun, buying himself time so he can take out the one man Natasha had left. He was a hard one, too, also almost matching him.

The spy stands to shoot the big man Steve had left, but she froze. Steve knocked his guy unconscious, after a fight that took longer than he expected, and when he turned, he saw that Natasha wasn't moving. The man was giving her a smug grin. "Do you remember me?" He looked exactly like the man from the simulation. He sounded exactly like him, too.

In a swift move, Steve unhitches the gun he had in the back of his pants and fires two shots into the man's chest, grabbing the spy afterwards. "What was that?" He asked. She didn't say anything and kept running with him.

"Open garage," Natasha says out loud, triggering the gates open. Steve hopped on a motorcycle and Natasha jumped behind him. They heard more shots firing behind them and Steve pushed the bike to its max, leaving the compound for the first time. He didn't know where to go, but he knew that wherever it was, it's supposed to be as far from there as possible.

"You wanna tell me what that was about?" Steve asked. Both the soldier and the spy made it to the safe house just outside the city, with a few other agents.

"I don't know why the compound was attacked," she said, wincing as she wrapped her hand where a bullet had pierced her. Steve has his shoulder and side bandaged a few hours earlier, the moment they reached the house. The two were sitting around a campfire a few feet outside.

"You know that's not what I'm talking about," he said. She grew silent, fidgeting with the bandage on her thigh. "You don't have to tell me, but it could've jeopardized your safety and mine."

"I know" was all she said. Steve got up, leaving her around the campfire.

She couldn't pinpoint who he was. She didn't know him and she doesn't know why. The spy wanted to stand and blow off some steam but the thigh wound wouldn't allow her. Steve returned with a glass of water for the both of them.

"So," she started before downing the glass. "You joining us now, or what? That was some audition."

He laughed, sipping his water. "We'll see after this mission."

"I don't even know what kind of mission this is."

"How did they even get through security?"

Natasha sighed. "They killed everyone down there," she said with sadness. "I knew all of them."

"Were you all close?"

"Nah," she resigned. She wasn't close with anyone. The only deaths that she could be bothered with were Clint's and his family, and they're all still alive. "Still sad, though." She sympathizes, but that's all that she allows herself to do.

They sit in silence for awhile until the man speaks. "I really miss my shield," the captain said, getting a laugh from the redhead.

"We'll make you one if you join," she humors.

"I just might, then," he replies with a smile.

"And I actually don't know him," she said, switching the conversation back to where it had been before. He looks at her with confusion. "I froze because I thought he was familiar." And she proceeded to tell him about the simulator in the training room. She omitted just about everything except for that fact that the man was in there and she didn't know who he was. "It caught me off-guard. Not a lot of things do, but this one did." The soldier thinks back to when he saw the spy kneeling on the ground, exhausted and distressed.

Natasha winces as she stands up. The gentleman in Steve wanted to help her, but knew that she'd probably smack him if he tried. She took notice and it made her smile. She limps inside the house and Steve sets the fire out. There were agents laid out on makeshift beds and cots. The two saw that a couple of beds were vacant so they took those, next to each other. Steve really wished he could put a shirt on but he was too tired to lift an arm up. The bed was chilly and he couldn't really sleep on his favorite side. He was forced to sleep on the other, facing Natasha. She, on the other hand, had to choose between her forearm and her thigh. Or she could sleep on her back, but she hates that. She eventually chooses to sleep on her stomach so both wounds are accommodated for. Her head was facing Steve.

"He said something about eliminating 'widows'," the soldier said faintly.

Natasha's eyes opened, not completely surprised though. "I had an idea."

"What does that mean?"

"You ask that a lot."

"I don't know a lot."

She let out a laugh. "I'm a Black Widow. That's my codename." Steve grew weary. "They're coming after me." She closed her eyes as if that thought didn't trigger anxiety at all.

The sleeping conditions were definitely a factor, but those weren't the reasons that made it harder for the soldier to sleep.