A/N: In case you missed Nat's story, the gist is that she was working a job and ended up running into Aleksander Lukin and her old headmistress from the Red Room. With help from Sharon, she tracked them down and put them away before using some of the intel she'd gathered to go to Wakanda and give them a way to get the triggers out of Bucky's head. So that brings us up to now :) Thanks for reviewing!

But it's hard seeing you age

Working for Fury again was easy. Natasha got a mission, she went undercover for a while to complete it, she moved on. Sometimes unexpected complications arose and she had to lay low for a while in one of her various safe houses. But there were plenty of those to choose from, so it was rarely a real problem. Money was still tight – Fury wasn't exactly set up in a capacity where she could sign up for direct deposit. Enough of the jobs themselves paid a little, though, and she was doing alright.

She saw Clint from time to time, also running jobs for Fury. They didn't talk about the rest of the team. They didn't talk about anything that had happened in the last few months. Once, he had asked her about going to Wakanda, clearly confused that she hadn't gone there to see Steve and come back to work with them. She hadn't answered and he hadn't pressed. It was hard for him, not being able to see his family indefinitely. So they kept their conversations light.

Mostly she worked on her own. In between jobs for Fury, she kept tabs on the people she'd helped Sharon had put away – Madame B and Lukin. They were still in custody, but Natasha could find no record of the woman whom she'd fought. Though she'd been drugged and a little confused, the moves the other woman had employed were far too familiar. Not because they had met before, but because it seemed that they had been trained in the same methods. Given whom her employers apparently were, that made sense. It made her uneasy – the Red Room had been shut down for years. There shouldn't be anyone else like her out there. And, if there were… Well, she didn't like the thought of such a person being unsupervised.

Sharon had returned to her job in Berlin and Natasha surprised herself by considering going to visit. Because of her upbringing, she was generally wary of friendship with women (or anyone), but working with Sharon had been pleasant. And it was hard, being out here in the cold, after she'd been working closely with the team – and, before that, Clint – for a long time. But given how all that ended, why would she want to start up again?

Though she trusted Fury, she had not told him everything about the mission with Lukin and Madame B. But she had told Clint. So he was helping her, finding out what he could between missions for Fury. Or sometimes on them, if the opportunity presented itself. She appreciated the gesture and was very glad that, even if they'd ended up on opposite sides, they were still friends.


"I told you, I don't know anything!"

Natasha smiled coolly at the man who was speaking. He was middle-aged, balding, wearing a rumpled suit. Of course, it hadn't been rumpled before she'd knocked him out and tied him to a chair.

"You're lying," she answered calmly, looking back down at the computer in front of her. Getting all the information off of it would take a few more minutes.

"Please! My kids –"

"Will be fine. There's an awful lot of hidden files on your computer for not knowing anything about your bosses. These can't all be porn, can they?"

He paled and she grinned. "Are you going to kill me?" he asked quietly.

"Wasn't planning on it. Might gag you and leave you here, though, if you don't start talking." Someone would find him eventually, probably within twenty-four hours. But he didn't look too happy about that idea.

He let out a breath and looked at his lap, considering his options. She looked at the progress bar on his computer then back at him. "The home base is in Portugal. I don't know where. I've never been there."

"Why not?" she asked conversationally.

"I'm just an accountant. I don't get sent places!"

The download finished with a soft beep and she smiled at him again. "I guess I'd better brush up on my Portuguese, then," she told him as she packed up her supplies. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you."

"Wait! I thought you weren't going to leave me here if I talked!" he cried, leaning forward against the ropes.

"Careful," she warned as his chair started to tip. "I said I wouldn't leave you bound and gagged. You hardly did any talking," she explained, shaking her head as she headed out the door. He continued to protest, but she ignored him.

It was early evening and she was in an office building in Mykolaiv. Everyone had gone home – except for one hard-working accountant. But they would be back in the morning. So she wasn't particularly worried about leaving the man there. Security was still around, this being a cover for AIM, and she didn't want to have to deal with them on her way out. It would get too messy and she was supposed to be undercover.

She successfully made it out of the building and back to her hotel without being noticed, then drew herself a bath. Clint was coming through Ukraine tomorrow and said he had found some intel she would want to see right away. So there was no hurry to go far – she would drive over in the morning. Even if Odessa hadn't been particularly kind to her in the past. After her bath, she had dinner and settled in to read the information she'd gotten from the accountant's computer. Mostly boring stuff, but a few leads. Fury would be thrilled.

In the morning, she awoke to her phone buzzing – Clint. "Hey," she answered it sleepily.

"Sorry, Nat, but I'm not going to be able to make it. I'm on my way to South America."

She sat up. "Is something wrong?"

There was a pause. "There's some time-sensitive stuff I can't send online, so I had to enlist one of our friends. You're not going to like it, but I didn't have a lot of options."

Grimacing, she supposed that meant Steve. Well… It would be good to get some things out of the way. "I'm sure it's important enough to put personal differences aside," she said smoothly.

He snorted. "Yeah. Well, hopefully. I gave him directions to the café where we were going to meet, around 1700. He'll be wearing red and brown so you can spot him before anyone else does. Try not to attract attention to him – he's a fugitive, after all," he added, teasing. As if that set him apart from the rest of them.

"I'll see what I can do. Take care of yourself."

"You too."

With a sigh, she got up to get ready, going over in her head what she would say to Steve. Though she was hoping he would do most of the talking. Since the peacefulness of her day was gone, she figured she'd go shopping after she got to Odessa. It was nicely diverting, even if she didn't buy anything. With as much travel as she did, packing more than a small suitcase wasn't reasonable. If she needed something particular for an op, she would buy it on the way. And then lose it afterward to avoid being traced. There were only a handful of things she considered important enough to hang onto, and they could all fit in her suitcase.

As the sun was setting, she headed for the café, thinking that she was getting hungry. Eating together would decrease the potential for awkward silences. Hopefully Steve could give her Clint's intel and then they could go their separate ways. Though Clint had sounded worried about more than an uncomfortable reunion… So maybe she should consider working with Steve to get the job done.

She spotted the man in the brown jacket – well, there was more than one, but only one looked big enough to be a super soldier. Steeling her nerves, she walked closer and saw that it wasn't Steve. That stopped her in her tracks. "You?" The word escaped her and she wished she could take it back.

"Natalia?"

It was just her name in Russian, not something she make a big deal about. Barton had probably told him not to speak in English while he was here. So she shouldn't feel lightheaded at hearing her name from him. Of course he knew her name. It was fairly common knowledge. It didn't mean anything.

Recovering, she slid into the seat across from him and adopted a smirk. "Thought you were sleeping," she said, covering for all the questions she really wanted to ask.

He regarded her and she hoped he thought her pause had been because of the last time they were in Odessa. Or DC or Berlin. Not… Not anything else. It would be reasonable to be given pause by running into a person who tried to kill you, right?

"I woke up," he replied evenly.

Did he always stare so intently? Probably not. What was he thinking? Why was he here? Why hadn't Clint warned her? The line might not have been secure, but there were ways to get around that and still get information across.

"That's good to hear," she noted casually. "You have something for me?"

He blinked and nodded, looking down as he pulled something out of his pocket. A flash drive. Handing it over, he held her gaze and she wished she could read what he was thinking. It was something she usually excelled at doing. But she didn't know him all that well – at least, not Bucky Barnes. She was very familiar with the Winter Soldier.

"Thank you." That wasn't like her, to be polite without any smirking addition, but maybe it was because she was distracted.

"He didn't say it would be you," he said suddenly, then cringed.

She smiled, glad to see she wasn't the only one uncomfortable. "Was he trying to punk us?"

A slight frown crossed his features and she supposed he didn't know what "punking" someone was. "I'm, uh, I'm real sorry for, you know. Before," he told her quietly, addressing the sentiment to the table between them. "If there's anything I can do to, you know, make up for it…" he trailed off.

Sitting back with forced nonchalance, she smirked. "You could buy me dinner."

His smile was a little hesitant, but seeing the way it transformed his whole demeanor hit like a blow and it was all she could do to hold her expression. "Alright," he agreed.