A/N: Hi all, here with the next chapter with a couple of memories for Natasha, hope you enjoy her side of part of Chapter Eight! Also, check out the Easter egg at the end of the chapter ;) Hope you enjoy a little more Steve/Nat development. -Cat

Chapter Twelve

Natasha

"You know, maybe we could start on Coney-" He was interrupted by my cellphone ringing. Which he insisted I answer, and like an idiot I do. Why didn't I just let him keep talking? Because I am an Avenger and what if the world needed saving?

I take the call, it's Bruce from the Tower. His voice is soft and gentle on the phone, yet still excited, like he is enjoying what he is working on. Why come to a gala opening at the Smithsonian when you can tinker in a lab? We've talked a few times since I got back stateside. I keep feeling like Tony is throwing us together, getting Bruce to ask me questions or get in touch with me, when anyone on our team could give him the answers, but it's nice. Nice to be talked to. But right now it all feels wrong and confusing because Steve is sitting on the park bench behind me, and everything was going... Well, I don't know where it was going...

"Thanks Nat...I'll..I'll see you soon." Bruce says through the phone, as goodbye. And I feel an uncomfortable swooping sensation in my stomach at his words which seem to imply he is looking forward to seeing me.

"Yeah...you too," I say before hanging up. I stare at my phone in my hand unsure of what's going on now.

"What's up?" Steve's voice interrupts my thoughts and I look up at him caught off guard. I see him, sitting on the bench, looking at me, a smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth. He looks so perfect, sitting there in his tux, with his clean cut hair and his bright blue eyes.

I smile at him because he makes me smile but I still hold back, because no one wants to be the crazy girl grinning like an idiot. "Bruce was trying to get in touch with Tony, about the staff. Wants me to ask Tony to call the Tower when he gets back to the hotel." He nods and stands up off the bench and as soon as he does, I see it. The change in his demeanour, the sag in his shoulders. And I am not sure when it happened but something changed, from a moment ago, and I feel like it is my fault. Which it is. Because a moment ago when we were walking and talking, and eating those stupid hotdogs, it felt like it was just us. No one else to worry about, no past to complicate things, just us in a happy little bubble. Then my phone rang and the bubble burst, and the whole world tumbled back in on us. And it reminds me just who we are, who we are really. And I want that not to be true, I want to go back to how it was a few moments ago, "Steve?"

He looks down at me and smiles, and his face is just so kind it takes my breath away, "Yeah?"

And it is like I am caught on a crazy gust of wind, and I step up to him and just know I am gonna say something stupid like, 'Will you take me? To Coney Island?' Or something even worse like 'I love you' it would be so simple, easier than taking a breath. And I find my hand reaching out and it rests on his arm. I feel the smooth tuxedo jacket under my fingertips, I can feel the fabric rubbing against his French cuff shirt underneath it, I feel the steely foundation of his bicep and it is like electricity shooting through my body. And I can feel the words bubble up in my throat threatening to come out and I feel frozen on the spot because I don't open this box, this box stays closed and here I am about to dump it out into the cold light of day right here on the street in front of the Regency Hotel.

He must see my hesitation, "Nat?" He says my name, my nickname and turns to face me, his hand comes up and rests on my shoulders and I feel everything, the calluses on his palm, the warm of his touch, the pulse in his forefinger, I am even aware of the sheer size of his hand, and he looks down at me with concern when he asks, "What's up?"

And I look from my hand to his hand, back up to him, and it's like waking up. I think about all those files that I dumped, that I know he's read. He has read them and still wants me on the team, still wants to be my friend. And I had that once before and nearly lost it, but I didn't because he is Steve and he still wants to talk to me, work with me. Trust me.

How can I be stupid enough to risk that again? Why would I jeopardize that? Because I love him? That's silly. Things that hallmark cards and daytime movies are made of. Not real, not my life. There is no knight in shining armour in my story, no dirty-blonde haired, blue eyed hero to sweep me off my feet. Those stories belong to girls who grew up in normal families, have normal lives, blonde girls named Sharon.

But he is my friend and that is privilege enough. One I am extremely grateful for.

I smile up at him, "Thank you for walking me back to the hotel."

He looks down into my eyes and I see this burning intensity in them. I find myself lost in them, unable to look away even though at this point it is almost like cruelty to dumb animals but then he just smiles back down at me before softly saying, "Anytime,"

I walk into the hotel and he is a couple of steps behind me and as we ride the elevator up to our floor, I find myself day dreaming with him standing beside me, our shoulders so close. I think about meeting him at Coney Island... No, he would pick me up on his motorcycle (It's my daydream after all). We walk around and we laugh a lot, for some reason I just know, we would laugh a lot. I would get cotton candy, because it's the best American thing ever. And we would go on lots of rides because they look fun and I think Steve would make me go on every one at least once. And it would get dark and we would watch everything light up like I have seen in pictures and it would be the perfect day. With the perfect man in the perfect life.

The elevator doors open and as we step out of it I leave my dreams behind me, I look at Steve and smile, smile at my friend, "Night Steve,"

He had looked at his shoes when he said, "Night Nat," and we went separate ways down the hallway. And as the elevators doors closed, I let the lid close on Steve's box in my mind. Coney Island tucked away. I feel my throat start to get that fuzzy feeling right before it closes up, same time as the burning begins at the backs of my eyes. And I struggle to put my keycard in and get through the door because I can feel Steve's eyes on my back and I just am desperate to be on my own so my brain can adjust and I can process and get back to reality.

These are the thoughts in my head as I sit in this cell, trying to come up with a plan. Once I had done inventory of what I was locked in with I determined morse code was my best bet. Now I sit here assembling my key to freedom and I think about that night when it was just me and him. I tried thinking about other things but nothing helped. Thinking about the team was a bad idea because it made me feel helpless, thinking about Clint was a bad idea cause then I think about Laura and the kids, and thinking about Bruce is a no go, after our last conversation... I just don't know anymore.

So my mind wanders and lands on that moment, that night, walking home with Steve, talking, laughing. It allows me to focus. I must be a masochist thinking about something I can't have, that is what makes me calm? God. I look over my shoulder at the old HYDRA base. No one is watching me and I start to tap out the call of coordinates.

I sit feeling slightly numb. My mind begins to wander again as I start the third transmission, the code muscle memory now. I think about last night, back at Clint's house, right before we flew out. Everyone was trying to get some shut eye. Although no one really managed it. Tony and Bruce were in a bedroom pouring over data and a laptop, trying to answer every unanswered question. Thor was still gone. Clint was with Laura in their room, and Fury was taking a twenty minute cat nap on the couch. The man could sleep anywhere during anything. I am a strong believer in the idea that he in fact only sleeps in cat nap increments when convenient. I find myself wandering around the house, at a bit of a loose end.

I know I don't want to sleep. Sleep is the last thing I want to do. Nothing about closing my eyes sounds appealing right now. So I wander. Until I find myself on the front porch looking out over the front yard and there he is, our silent guardian evidently. Steve is sitting on the front steps, his elbows resting on his knees, leaning forward.

"Can't sleep?" He asks without turning around. I simply walk up and sit down beside him pulling my cardigan around me tighter.

"Could ask you the same thing?" I ask, nudging him with my shoulder and watching him closely. I can't seem to shake the look I saw in his eyes earlier. The look of such deep sadness.

He smiled looking at the ground before looking back at me from the corner of his eyes, "I asked first,"

I shake my head, "No. I don't want to sleep particularly."

"Can't argue with that."

We sit silently, before I break the silence, "What do you think she did to us?" I stare pointedly at my hands as I talk, not wanting Steve to see just what that girl did, how much she shook me up.

"I dunno," He said the words on the back of a sigh and I find myself looking at him out of the corner of my eye. Steve is looking out over the field in front of us, he still looks tired... Worried. "Showed us fears...vulnerability." He shrugged, "I dunno." He said again shaking his head.

I sit up straight on the step and find myself talking, even though I don't really want to, or at least I didn't think I wanted to. "She showed me memories." I say quietly, my voice going gravelly. And Steve actually looks at me over his shoulder and his eyes look as surprised as I feel. I don't talk about this, I haven't talked about this, not to Clint, not to anyone, least of all Steve! But yet here I sit. I meet his eyes and blink slowly, "It was like I was back there, the Red Room." Suddenly, it seems like a lot and I blink feeling it all coming up around me again. God, when am I gonna shake this? I shake my head and take a breath, "Never wanted to think about it ever again, and yet there I was." I look up into the night's sky feeling exposed. I look at Steve and he is watching me with sad eyes, "You ever encounter anything like her before?"

He shakes his head sitting back to meet my eye-line better, "No, can't say I have."

I nod, "Don't know whether that is a good thing or a bad thing."

Steve swallowed, "Well, she won't have the jump on us again."

"No," I cross my arms, pulling my sweater tighter around myself again. "No, she won't. Dunno how we can fight what is put in our heads though."

"One thing at a time Romanoff," Steve says and I can hear the smile in his voice. I look at him, sending the small smile back.

He meets my eyes and I realize how much he is able to calm me down yet in the same breath he can have me on the edge of my seat. And still, I worry... "You ok Steve?" He smirks and lets his gaze drop to my hands, "Not being chased by too many memories I hope." I think about all the things that could be haunting him and I worry more.

"No," He shakes his head before letting his eyes come back up to mine, "No, I didn't get memories. I think I would have preferred memories honestly." I smirk, not really being able to relate to that, "No," He shifts on the step, "I saw..." He sakes his head as if lost for words. "I don't know, it was like a fear... or a nightmare. I don't know. It just..." He takes a deep breath before sighing, "Left me feeling alone." He looks back at me.

And I stare back into his eyes, because I know that feeling so well. It's how I have felt since I woke up. I reach out without thinking and take his hand that is dangling off his knee in both of mine, "You aren't ya know?" I squeeze his hand.

He slowly looks from my hands wrapped around his and then back up into my eyes. His eyes seem so full, but I can't sift through it fast enough before they twinkle at me, suddenly almost distracted, even if still slightly tinged with sadness, "Nat?" He asks.

I smirk back at him, 'Yeah?" I reply.

"Have you ever been in love?"

He could have slapped me and I would have been less shocked, "Oh now Captain, getting personal are we?" I nudge him with my shoulder and try and casually let go of his hand, wrapping my arms back tightly around myself, my shield.

"It's just a question," He says smiling back at me, and I feel like this is a test. Like there is a right way for this to go and a wrong way. I feel like a deer caught in the headlights, either I dart away and am forgotten or I get hit. I don't know which option leads to what out come. I just feel trapped even behind my cavalier exterior. I look at him from the corner of my eye trying to play coy and thankful for patio light having been turned off already. He shrugged, "You know everything about me, and I don't really know anything about you. Or anyone on the team for that matter." I see him look over his shoulder at the house and understand he is talking about Laura and the kids. "Just thought I would ask."

"Um, you know everything about me," I say shaking my head, knowing just how much of me he knows.

"You're kidding right?"

"Don't play coy Captain," I say quietly, more to the lawn than Steve, "I know you read all those very public S.H.I.E.L.D. files." I take a deep breath and brave a look in his direction but he is already looking at me, his eyes gentle.

"I read the files, Natasha. I know what you did. I don't know you." I feel like I am frozen. "I am just asking about you." He leans forward again, looking out over the front yard.

I shake my head, putting on my most over confident voice "Never had much time for-"

"Don't give me that," He shakes his head and glances at me, "Love isn't just for children, not the love I'm talking about it. And time or not, it happens." He looks down, "Never mind."

I feel like time has stopped. Well, I know I am not gonna say, 'Yes Steve, as a matter of fact, I have been in love, with you.' Because I am not a lunatic. But I know I want to talk to him, because he is my friend and I don't want to jeopardize that and just like a minute ago I find myself wanting to talk to him, to tell him something, a part of me. That he can know, above most others. Bruce flits across my mind but I don't want to bring that up, because I know what I feel for Bruce isn't love. Not, that kind of love...not yet. Ugh, I dunno. Too complicated. Not a good olive branch. And suddenly, vainly, I find myself wondering if that is maybe why he is asking? No. He is probably asking because whatever he saw, from that girl, probably involved Peggy, and he is wondering if I have a frame of reference to that.

I try and let myself relax, I swallow, take a deep breath and then just start, "There was someone." He tenses and looks at me, and I smile at him, "A life time ago. It was from before... before S.H.I.E.L.D.," His brow furrows, like he wasn't expecting that. 'Course not. I smile at him, "First solo mission stateside. Deep cover at Columbia University, physics department."

Steve looks at me and I see the recollection in his eye, "Professor Anatoli?" He asks.

I look down, he did read those files. Thoroughly. "Yes." I look back up at Steve, "And I met this guy. On campus. And he just wouldn't take no for an answer, musta asked me out like six times. I was supposed to appear like a normal American University student, social life and all. So eventually I said yes, because I thought... I don't know what I thought..." I shake my head thinking back. "He was studying law, and wanted to change the world, save it. Very passionate and altruistic. For a while I thought all American men were like him." I smile at Steve, "I learned that wasn't true, present company excluded." Steve scoffed.

"How long were you with him?" He asked gently.

I take a deep breath, "Two and a half months." I say and am surprised by just how accurately I can remember that. I look at Steve, "I hadn't ever had any relationships before, men or women, friendly or romantic. So I didn't really have a gauge for it other than what I had been taught how to mimic. And I don't think what we had was love, per se." I look up into the nights sky, "But it made me feel. He made me feel. Even if it was just to realize that I could." I bit my lower lip as I feel the burning at the back of my eyes and quickly look back down at the step under my feet.

"What was his name?"

"Matthew." I look up at Steve and he is sitting looking right back at me.

"What happened?"

I send him tight lipped smile, "You read the file. I got the information I needed and I finished the job and went home. Gone."

"Did you ever see him again?" Steve asked gently.

I shake my head, "No, by the time Clint got me out, it had been years. And by the time I was anywhere near being around people..." I chuckled, "What was I supposed to do, drop into his life unannounced, 'remember that girl you dated in your first year of university for a couple of months then vanished from your life?' No, I realized that what I got out of it was not what he did. It will just always be something I have... to remember." I meet Steve's eyes, "I don't have a lot of that."

He smiles at me and smirks, "He must have got a shock a couple of years ago, seeing you on the news in New York."

I can't help but laugh, "Well, probably not. Matt was blind."

Steve blinks and looks at me, "Oh," He looks shocked.

I shrug, "Well, I mean, kinda the perfect person for an undercover KGB agent to date, wouldn't you say?"

He doesn't laugh at my corny joke but instead just stares at me shaking his head, "Just when I think I have you figured out..." He says it more to himself than to me and I feel caught off guard unsure of what he means by it.

"What?" I ask hitting him on the shoulder "It's not like that was why I started seeing him." I say self-consciously.

"No, I didn't think that." He says meeting my eyes.

I nodded saying, "Alright then."

We had sat in silence until dawn had started to appear on the horizon and we had gotten up and started to prepare. To come and find Ultron. And now I am here. Alone, and waiting.