A/N: Hey all, thanks for the positive reviews! Loving writing this story, and so stoked to be at such a catalyst! Please enjoy this update! -Cat

Chapter Thirty-One

Natasha

I feel like I am floating. Like my head isn't properly attached to my body any more. I move through the apartment trying to remember if I have everything important. Cash, passport, pictures of the Bartons, my first edition Anna Karenina, some of the clothes I bought that I really like.

Steve comes out of the bathroom pulling his t-shirt down over his perfect chest. The chest I had my head resting on a few moments ago, the chest I ran my fingertips down, memorizing every plain. And just like that, there goes my head spinning off again.

"Do you need help with anything?" He asks looking around the apartment, picking up his crew neck sweater up off the ground at the foot of the bed.

"Uh," I look down into my backpack. "No," I shake my head looking up at him, "I think I have everything I need." It is a scary feeling. For some reason, leaving with him now, after last night. I find a new anxiety in the back of my mind but I try and shake it.

Steve grabs his jacket and wonders around the apartment looking at the floating shelves on the walls. "Who are all these people?" He asks turning to me, pointing his finger at one of the many frames I have displayed.

I shrug, crossing my arms over my chest, "Just people." He raises an eyebrow. I role my eyes and walk over to the shelf and look at the family, a mother, a father and their little boy who has bright red hair like mine. Another set follows an elderly couple. The final is of a girl early twenties, again red hair like mine. I lick my lips and glance at Steve, who simply looks down at me with curiosity and patience. I take a breath, well, he has seen all of the physical me, may as well trust him with my secret habits now too. "It's something I always did when I was in deep cover. I would get to where ever I was going and the first day I would go out and take pictures of people." I look at the pictures, and shrug, "People who would make sense I would know, parents, a little sister, maybe an auntie and some cousins." I focus on the elderly couple smiling at each other on the deck of the Staten Island Ferry, she looked like her hair used to be red, "I would follow them around for a few hours try and get some good candid shots." I look at Steve shaking my head, "Makes it seem more real when people come over to your place, if you have pictures of the same people out. Recurring themes."

His eyes look warm, gentle, "Did you learn that in the Red Room?"

I shake my head, "No. Just something I just sort of started doing. Now I can't seem to not. Escapism, I guess." His arm wraps around my shoulders and I feel him kiss the top of my head. And I let him hold me because it is intoxicating and comforting and I have never really felt that, at least not like this before. And he doesn't make me feel broken for following complete strangers projecting relationships and lives on them.

"Come on," I look up at him, and he smiles at me, "Our ride will be waiting."

"Sure thing Cap," I say smiling up at him and we leave the little apartment behind. Another chapter closed.

Steve parks the bike in the public tourist lot at the end of the Brooklyn Bridge. He leaves the key in the ignition but takes a pocket knife from his back pocket of his jeans and punctures the back tire. I look at him. I lean back on one foot and feel one side of my mouth pull into a smile, "Someone will still steal it you know."

"Can you steal an already stolen bike?" Steve asks from his crouch by the back tire.

I smile at him, "Borrowed." I offer and he looks up at me smiling, and I know he is thinking back, to what felt like a life time ago. "Here," I swing my backpack around and reach into one of the front pockets and pull out a wad of cash. I count out a few hundred dollars and stick it in the compartment beneath the seat. "Should pay for a new tire, and the approximate rental of a bike like this for the day."

"Assuming someone doesn't steal it first?" He asked raising an eyebrow. I role my eyes and pull out my cell phone which I had already encrypted to be none traceable.

I quickly text the crime stoppers hotline a tip. "There," I look up at Steve, "Should be picked up within the next few hours."

"Come on, I don't want to get picked up with it." He reaches for my hand like it is the most normal thing in the world. And I stare at it for a second before my own hand, as if with a mind of its own, found its way into Steve's.

We start walking and I feel my brain spinning. Holding hands with Steve, early morning stroll down the Brooklyn Bridge. This was not my life.

Except... it was. I swallow and feel that anxiety again in the back of my mind. I drop my cell phone in a garbage can we walk past and look up at Steve, "So, I know you can all super soldier off this bridge and just swim away but I may have some trouble with that. So I am seriously hoping that isn't your plan." It's early and there are only a few early cyclists and runners on the bridge.

"No," Steve says a chuckle deep in his voice. "Not exactly, I was thinking more skyward."

He squeezed my hand and then gently let it go. It caught me off guard as I was looking out over the skyline of Manhattan. I look up at him but he is already looking at me, smiling down at me, as if to reassure me.

"Finally," The voice is instantly recognizable from in front of me. I turn and see none other than Sam Wilson leaning against one of the bridge's towers by a utility door. Military green ball cap pulled low over a pair of big shiny reflective aviators. And just like that I know why Steve let go of my hand, and I find myself glancing up at him, as he smiles at Sam.

He knew I wouldn't be ok with Sam seeing us like that, not yet at least, intimate, close. He really does know me. I find the realization terrifying.

"Sorry," Steve says bashfully, looking at his shoes, " We got caught up," Steve shakes Sam's hand pulling him into a manly half hug and I roll my eyes at their antics.

"I'll bet you did," Sam said chuckling and I glare at him at the inference but soon he is turning on me and before I get a chance to prepare for it, Sam swoops me into rib crushing hug, literally picking me up off the ground. "Naaaat!" He says gleefully before dropping me back down.

I smile up at him shaking my head, "Hi Sam, missed you too."

Sam turns from us and Steve falls into step with him and I follow Steve's lead. Sam walks to the utility door and opens it, not locked. "I mean, it just feels right, ya know?" He holds the door for us and I lead the way into the small space and look at the staircase that goes straight up. "Us three back together, right?!" He sounds gleeful.

"Yeah, you mentioned on the way here." Steve said his voice light.

The mountainous hike up the stairs does not make Sam hesitate his gleeful banter. As I come the end of the stairs he is still going. "I mean, it's just... this is the real team Cap right? Us three, the original trifecta."

"Yeah, you made that clear Sam,"

"The tripod,"

"Yup, mentioned that too."

"The triforce."

I look at Sam, "I love you too, Sam."

He smiles so brightly at me, it makes me feel quite lucky, "Just feels right. Come on," Sam opens a door in the wall and I look out over the East River and the struts of the bridge. "We should get moving before the cloud cover clears up."

"Um, so you know we can't all fly right?" I say looking back at Sam and Steve. Who share a look that clearly says they know something I don't know. I roll my eyes, "What's up?"

"Oh, we have a ride," Sam says smiling down at me. He pulls a small back device out of his pocket and clicks it and suddenly on the other side of the door a huge jet just seemed to appear as it's camouflaged outside deactivated. And there it was just perched on the side of the Brooklyn bridge tower. Hanging off the side like a bat. "Come on, not the most inconspicuous at the moment."

The three of us make the jump and all land in the new jet. It is amazing, like nothing I have ever seen before. I move to the front of the plane, following Sam as he slides into the pilot's seat and look at the dash.

"This is amazing..." I say quietly. It isn't Stark tech. Or S.H.I.E.L.D.

"I know right?" Sam said smiling at me over his shoulder. He hits a few buttons and the nose of the plane that I can see out the windshield disappears again. "We ready to ride?" Sam asks.

I feel Steve's hand on my arm and I tear my eyes off the amazing jet to move behind Sam and sit in one of the other seats, which I also realize seems to floating, based off of some sort of magnet tech. I look over at Steve who sends me this knowing smile. I sit down and pull the restraints over my lap. "Where did you two manage to find this?" I ask.

"It's a loan," Steve said shrugging at the same time Sam said, "It was a gift!" Steve glances up at the back of Sam's head, "Loan," He reiterates.

I can hear Sam mumble, "You say loan, I say gift." And I can't help but chuckle.

"We got it from T'Challa." Steve says fixing me with a gaze, and my head snaps around to look at Steve.

"T'Challa? From Wakanda?" I clarify. Steve nods, I look around the crazy advanced tech on the wall, simulation holographic mapping systems, triangulated satellite navigation. "Goat farming must be booming." I say raising my eyebrows.

"Uh, Wakanda's number one export is textiles." Sam said knowingly from up front. I glance at Steve who shrugs.

"Sam has made some friends, likes to sit in on some of the school's classes."

"Awww, Nat you're gonna love it." Sam says brightly.

I look out the window and see New York falling away from us. "That's where you guys have been?" I ask.

"Yeah, it turns out it is surprisingly easy to lay low there." Steve said his voice gentle.

I nervously rub my palm along the arm rest of the seat I am in. I turn to look back at Steve, "So, does T'Challa know what you were doing when you asked to take the jet out?" All I can think about is slamming T'Challa with not one, not two, but three of my stunners, or was it four? And all I can feel is the anxiety in my chest building.

Steve nods and looks at me seriously, "T'Challa knows what we are doing. And he knows why you did what you did."

I nod but still worry, "Kay, just really not feeling like ending up in a Wakandan prison." I nod my head and notice as Sam shrugs.

"Really? Probably not the worst thing."

I look at Steve who shakes his head, "Never mind, you'll understand when we get there. Wakanda is... well, it's a surprise to say the least."

"Oh," I nod and look out the window again. And I find myself not sure if I am ready for any more surprises or not.