Everybody soon walked into the lounge and Natasha looked at each of them expectantly first,and then with relief.
They all sat down, Steve across from her, and watched her.
'It better be important, Romanoff,' Tony said as he slumped onto the couch. 'Bruce and I were working on a revolutionary concept."
'I'll give you revolutionary,' she assured with a smirk.
Tony raised an eyebrow at her, tacitly challenging her to give him something spectacular. Natasha glanced down at the floor and cleared her throat.
"What if I told you I just came back from a time jump? A long time jump," she said.
All frowned except Tony.
"I'd be torn between congratulating you and resenting you for the rest of my life for not taking me with you," he answered.
Natasha remained imperturbable, not the least surprised by his response. She slipped a hand into her pocket and pulled out an object hardly bigger than a five-cent coin.
Thor jerked forward to the edge of his seat and furrowed his brows.
"How did you come in possession of an Asgardian device?" he asked.
Steve and the others averted their eyes from the demigod to Natasha.
"You gave it to me," she said simply. "In another timeline."
Thor stared at the object lying in the center of her palm.
"So the legend is true?" he murmured almost inaudibly.
"Oh it is very true," she assured.
The room was silent and everyone was now hanging to her lips. She pinched the chip between two fingers and held it up.
"This is the device Thor gave me to travel through time."
Steve's heart skipped a beat in anticipation and eager to ask the most relevant question possible after hearing such a shocking revelation. But somehow he couldn't ask it himself. Part of him was too afraid of the answer he would get.
"To where?" Clint asked, then frowned to himself. "Or do we say to when?"
She swallowed the lump in her throat. "1942."
The words rang out like cathedral bells in his ear and he felt himself fall through the couch and the dozens of stories this tower had all the way to the abyss. Natasha's eyes went up to him and she gazed at him with the apologetic expression of a guilty person. They stared silently at each other, fighting off the tears on the verge to rise to their eyes.
This had been an improbable –impossible– idea to consider for the three years he had known Natasha only to be told today that indeed two of the most important women in his life were one and the same.
"In the timeline I come from," Natasha began again, getting back on track, as the tone of her voice hardened. Her eyes swept across to him. "Steve died." A heavy silence filled with long and awkward glances ensued. "Killed by an assassin. That's when Thor got hold of the device and we decided we would use it to prevent all this from happening."
"When did - when would it have happened?" Bruce asked.
"Yesterday," she said. "That's why I only came back today," and she turned to Steve as if she seemed to apologize for having taken so long, for deliberately letting him go through the torture of meeting her future self without her recognizing him. "I had to be sure I had succeeded."
Her eyes screamed sorry and he felt unsettled to look into Natasha's eyes but only find Natalie in them. It was as if that past he had endeavored to put behind for the last three years had jumped all the way over to him again. There was no doubt it was Natalie (or should he say Natasha, now?) who was now sitting in front of him.
"Wait a sec," Tony interrupted. "You just said Cap should have died yesterday. Why did you not just travel two days back?"
"Because -," she trailed off, suddenly uncomfortable. "The Winter Soldier –the man who killed him– was ...James Barnes. Steve's best friend."
Steve's eyes opened wide, startled to hear his friend's name. Once the shock of the revelation had passed, he and the other Avengers subtly frowned at her making such a formal introduction of Bucky as if he was a stranger.
"What?" He exclaimed.
"In my timeline, James was taken by HYDRA during the war, brainwashed into the deadliest assassin we've known in our History. Injected with a replica of the super soldier serum and wearing a metal arm. He was cryogenized then woken up a few years ago for when HYDRA, infiltrated inside S.H.I.E.L.D, would need him. Steve tried everything to save him and make him remember who he really was but...it didn't work. Going to 1942 was the best chance we had at saving them both."
Steve was literally mute with astonishment. It was like watching a puzzle putting itself back together. This was the 'clear picture' as Bucky had called it revealing itself to him. And it looked oh so easy to read. The perfection with which all the pieces were slotting together was absolutely astounding, the easiness in which it was happening before his eyes was almost revolting. He had spent so many nights pondering –ruminating– on the situation with logic and discernment that finding out the whole truth relied on facts his mind could not comprehend until this moment seemed unfair. This beautiful revelation and yet ugly truth intertwined together in the most bizarre feeling inside.
Watching Natasha watching him, he began to feel feelings he had banished long ago, and his whole body froze at the realization they were so intense and earnest. Actually, they felt heightened, perhaps because his heart was remembering them vividly. Colors never looked brighter than after your eyes had spent days in the darkness. Maybe it was the same, maybe his heart was remembering those forsaken feelings again. It was both a strenuous and wonderful process.
'I have nothing to prove what I'm saying. Nothing but Thor's device and my story,' she said in conclusion to her announcement.
All looks immediately turned to him, his teammates waiting on his reaction first before throwing in their two cents.
He swallowed hard. He had nothing to say –or actually, too much. So many thoughts desperately trying to push themselves out of his lips, but they were all thoughts he wanted to share with her and her only. With no audience. So he decided to remain mute instead.
This was somehow all the permission his friends needed. They took his silence as their cue to jump in with their questions.
Steve only paid half attention to their queries and comments. They sounded all so irrelevant compared to the questions he needed answered, they felt all so indifferent to the flood of emotions tormenting him. He looked coolly to the side at Tony after he joked about using the device to save him. He would have had a thousand comebacks stored in normal times. But none of this happening right now was normal.
"I let you go?" Clint said incredulously, being the first to voice out real care for Natasha. Steve listened more carefully, watching their tender exchange of looks. It was clear both had been just as close in the former timeline as they were in this one.
He began to wonder why she had volunteered for the rescue mission. Was it simply for practical reasons? Had they all agreed that she was the most likely to grow close to him?
He remembered his dream from the night before. In all likelihood, he had experienced what was originally his own death. The man with the metal arm and the red star, the enemy he didn't really mean to fight and who ended up killing him was Bucky, as insane as it sounded. As for Natasha –the one in his dream–, she was actually his Natalie, she was the Natasha sitting across from him and who had just returned. She had seemed to care for him in the dream. A lot. A lot more than a simple teammate would. And the way he felt about her, the way he was looking at her, the words he had meant to tell her before dying and waking up. She and his original timeline self had bonded in a deeper way than colleagues were supposed to. This certainly explained why Natalie had bounded with him so easily. He had always thought she knew him and understood him more than any acquaintance ever could. Now, he realized it hadn't been just a feeling.
Maybe she had volunteered to travel back in time (and taken the risk of never coming back had the device not worked as planned) because she cared for him. Because she loved him. He had always believed he had been the first one to fall for Natalie, now it seemed obvious she had been the one loving him long before he did.
Tony was answering to Natasha's comment with a sarcastic remark when they all heard:
"Come on Stark, we all know and have accepted that you have the hots for Steve. When are you finally going to admit it to yourself?"
Bucky was standing by the door frame, nonchalant and totally unaware of the whole situation. Steve had been so drawn into the revelation, he just now realized it concerned James just as much as him.
Bucky frowned, surprised to see his joke didn't receive as much interest as he thought it would. Natasha was the only one to react to him...in the most unexpected way. Her body and face froze as she watched him enter the room like you would look at a ghost. Bucky didn't notice, obviously. He made his way to one of the couches, teasing Tony further. Her eyes followed every one of his motions.
"Bucky?" she whispered barely audibly. "How are you here?"
Steve's heartbeat quickened as her flabbergasted expression painfully confirmed that the Natasha sitting in the room came from a timeline where Bucky, as he knew him, did not exist.
Natasha told the story again and he kept his eyes on Bucky the whole time, watching and decyphering every emotion flashing across his face, and every emotion he ensured to conceal. He remained calm and composed, maybe even his light-hearted mood. He then proceeded to tell his story –their story– and how they had both woken up here seventy years later.
But Steve felt his chest tighten as his body processed what was once a reality. In no parallel universe could he possibly comprehend (and let alone accept) living in a world where Bucky wasn't by his side. It hurt even more to imagine his best friend turned into a killer. The mere thought of it gave him nausea. It became physically painful to even consider this could have been his reality if it hadn't been for Natasha.
He gazed at her carefully, seeing her from yet another light today. How much more beautiful could she look to him at this moment? Her devotion and commitment seemed to know no bounds. She had done so much, for him sure, but mostly for Bucky and this was worth everything. She could have decided to protect him only and yet she had chosen to save Bucky, as well. A mere stranger to her. His killer, if anything. She had somewhat put all the resentment she might have felt watching The Winter Soldier kill him, all the prejudices, and she had dedicated herself to saving him, too.
This was when it became obvious how she had proceeded. Another piece of the puzzle that slotted back to its place. The woman on the train. His secret agent from the HYDRA train. It explained why he had found her fingerprint on the hairpin. It had been her all along. It became suddenly overwhelming to realize that almost all the most significant women in his life –the woman he had loved and lost, the woman who had soothed her absence and now even the woman whose identity he had endeavored to find— were all one and the same. He almost choked at the memories flooding his mind. That silhouette he had watched fight and be lifted by the neck through the broken window in the wagon was the woman who had given him the most memorable kiss just a few days before. The German agent he had treated like a possible anemy at the time of the investigation was the woman he loved. And she had risked everything for him. He was literally stunned by the many faces of Natasha. She was and would forever be the recipient of his bottomless admiration.
"You're the one who saved us on Zola's train," his words escaped his mouth, musing out loud. Natasha looked at him quietly, almost afraid she had disappointed him with yet another lie. How far from the truth she was. There was nothing not to love about her at this very second.
"It seemed pretty clear to me she rescued Barnes, actually," Stark unwelcomely remarked, interrupting the silent exchange of looks between them. 'Am I the only one who paid attention to the bedtime story?'
Clint chimed in with another comment.
Then Bucky, who had been silent for a while, spoke again.
"I knew you had a connection with Natalie Rushman," he said seriously. It was evident Bucky had spent the last few minutes coming to the same conclusions. "It was unmissable for the both of us. Steve sort of dropped the idea but I personally concluded you two were related but that you just didn't want to share any information from your personal life…Although, now I understand better why you genuinely seemed to believe your own lie."
"I was not supposed to alter the past more than what I already planned to do. Thor, Bruce and Tony were very clear on that point," she answered.
"What was the time travel like?" Bruce asked.
"'Like watching a film moving backwards and in high speed," she said.
"How did you know how to access and move the HYDRA train without leaving any clues behind?" Tony asked.
"Please," she answered with a smirk. The question nearly hurt her ego. "I studied all the plans and data that I needed to know before traveling to 1942."
"How did you financially sustain yourself there for two months?" Clint chimed in.
"Fury had given me an address where I would get money and a place to stay in."
This answer piqued Steve's interest and he stored it for later.
"How come we've got no record of you in the forties?" Thor asked.
"I made sure to stay under radar. I avoided cameras like the plague," she explained. Steve was immediately reminded of his attempt at finding a photograph of her; he still had an envelope filled with a stack of pictures lying in his desk drawer to prove it.
'Was Captain's USO costume as ludicrous as it looked?' Stark smirked.
She snorted. "About that," she started with a playful look.
They all smiled and the conversation continued for a long part of the evening but Steve remained quiet until someone pointed out she probably needed some rest. It was announced that the conversation would resume the next day.
Natasha got up, uncomfortable, almost feeling out of place. She glanced expectantly in his direction, fearful to make the first move, hopeful he would be the one to make it.
Clint stepped in and offered to accompany her to her apartment as it seemed she still hadn't recovered her current self's memories. Steve felt an uncontrollable anguish at the thought the same story might repeat itself but the other way around, with Natalie having to live without the memories of the Natasha he had grown to.
He began to miss her terribly as soon as the doors of the elevator closed on her. As unreasonable as it was, he was anxious he might lose her again.
Bucky was quiet, too quiet, brushing off any uncomfortable question with funny comments –with heavily charged humorous comments. This usually meant he was trying to hide something.
Tony and Bruce ran to their lab to analyze the alien device, closely followed behind by Thor who was already claiming ownership of it on behalf of his people and all the gods.
Soon, it was only him and James in the room.
Bucky brushed his palms over his jeans. "I think I'm gonna go have some rest. I'm feeling a little tired," he said.
Steve watched him closely. "Let me come with you."
Bucky frowned. "Why?"
"Because after what you just heard I should be with you."
He shook his head. "I'm alright. Maria should be back from D.C. later tonight. I won't be alone."
"Good," Steve said. "So until she comes I'm staying with you."
Bucky sighed loudly but gave up fully aware that Steve was more stubborn than he could ever get.
They both went to the elevator, down to his apartment. Upon arrival, Bucky stepped out, gravely mute, and walked to the window. He rubbed his jaw for long seconds then moved over to his room and sat on the bed.
"Bucky," Steve began. "We have to talk about it. You have to talk about it."
James pursed his lips together and closed his eyes. "What can I say?" he eventually uttered, and his voice broke. "That was I destined to become evil?" He turned and looked at him. "That I was supposed to kill you in cold blood?"
His eyes glowed with tears and Steve felt his own mirror them.
"Don't," he said with a slightly shaky voice. "Don't blame yourself for something you didn't do. Whatever the other Bucky became, you're not him."
"Because Natasha made sure it wouldn't happen" James retorted. "She cheated with my fate by changing it."
Steve shook his head. "No. She fixed a mistake, something that never should have happened. She came to our time and she saw you for what you truly are. Not this...Winter Soldier. But you, just Bucky. And she made sure it would remain that way."
James slightly turned his head and looked at him. "That's still a big thing to swallow. I need time."
Steve patted his shoulder and nodded. "And this is exactly what we have thanks to her: all the time in the world."
As much as he wanted to be with Natalie -Natasha-, he needed to stay with Bucky right now.
His best friend nodded back. He then prepped his elbows over his lap and brushed his hand over his mouth.
"When I think that I –, " he trailed off. He swallowed hardly and looked back at his friend. "I questioned her intentions back in 1942. I suspected she wasn't who she said she was. And I had absolutely no idea all she was doing for me."
Steve grinned slightly. "It's alright. I doubted her, too. Actually, I haven't stopped doubting her since we got here."
He thought of all those times he resented her for lying about her identity. From there, he began to question everything she had ever told him.
"Steve," Bucky spoke again. "Don't waste any more time on old regrets, and certainly not on making new ones. You got a second chance with her. Don't wait too long."
His breathing halted. The mere thought of it filled him both with indescribable bliss and utter fear.
"I...," he began hesitantly. "What if things feel different to her, now?"
"Now?" Bucky snorted softly. "As far as she's concerned, she said goodbye to you outside that cinema only a few days ago."
Steve didn't say a word, quietly hoping with all his soul his friend was right. They remained sitting like this on the edge of the bed, pensive, for some time.
Eventually, the doors of the elevator opened and Steve caught sight of Maria standing with a worried frown across her forehead. She put her travel bag on the floor and came up to them in quick pace.
Steve got up, passed the bedroom door and walked over to her while Bucky remained motionless, his back arched and his head bowed down.
"Stark just told me," she murmured as they met halfway in the lounge room. She glanced over his shoulder to have a look at Bucky through the door frame behind him.
"I think you're the company he needs tonight,." Steve said.
Maria softly pressed her hand on his shoulder and nodded. She then stepped past him and walked over to the bedroom. Steve watched as she entered the room and stood in front of Bucky who looked up at her in relief. She didn't have to speak nor to listen, just to be here. Bucky folded his arms around her waist and buried his face against her stomach while she held him tight in her reassuring embrace, stroking the back of his bare neck. Steve grinned and found himself envying them then he realized he might finally get it too if he took the chance for once.
He quietly made his way to the elevator and pressed the button to Natasha's level.
His heart pounded harder and harder in his chest as he watched the story numbers get dangerously close to its destination.
The doors slid open and he froze, holding his breath in. The lounge room was unoccupied and dark. The door to her bedroom standing across was closed and he slowly stepped toward it. He hesitantly rose his arm and knocked on the door.
"Come in," she said softly and all his body quivered at the sound of her voice and the upcoming encounter awaiting.
He turned the knob and walked in. Natasha was standing, her back on him, looking out the large windows. It seemed she was taking in the landscape she was finally reunited with.
"I thought you would be asleep," he murmured hardly. The coward part of him hoped she would be.
"I couldn't sleep," she answered, still gazing at the city lights.
It was obvious none of them knew how to start a conversation they were both eager to have.
"You were so quiet there," she spoke again and she turned to face him.
The sight of her standing in the dim light of the room, looking more stunning than ever before, froze him to the core. He looked apologetically at her when he realized his silence up there had hurt her.
'All the pieces were coming back together,' he justified with a gentle voice, stepping up toward her. 'And to be honest, all the things that came to mind were things that had to wait until we were alone.'
Her face slightly lit up with hope. It was still so crazy to believe that the woman he had been looking for since he woke up was standing right in front of him at long last.
He walked up to her, reducing the terrible distance between them as much as possible. All of him yearned to be physically close to her again. It was a biological need he could no longer control. He found peace when he finally felt the warmth radiating from her body.
He looked at her but all his mind could see was the Natasha he had known until now; his eyes shifted to look into hers and immediately recognized Natalie. He was overwhelmed by old memories (not so dated technically, but still older than hers as Bucky had righly pointed out). He smiled fondly as he noticed the stray of her hair falling over the side of her face. He recalled how he would brush it back behind her ear. He did it again without really being aware. The old and yet familiar gesture felt natural and blissful.
A lump rose to his throat as he voiced out the following words.
"Is it really you?" he asked eagerly. Even if there was absolutely no doubt left that the woman standing before him was Natalie, Natasha and even the spy on the train all at once, he still needed to hear her confirm it one more time to allow himself to believe it completely.
She nodded with her lids closed. A feeling of overpowering happiness took hold of all of him.
He thought of how he had Bucky with him because of her.
"And you did all this to save Bucky?" he said, euphoric.
Her stunning green eyes dove into his. "I did all this for you," she murmured back with a devotion so great he could never repay her for it.
She did love him. With all her heart. She had shown and proved it in every possible way. He felt lucky to be the recipient of so much love. He felt blessed to be the recipient of Natasha Romanoff's love.
The most earnest smile came to his lips, enjoying the delectable joy of having her back.
"I thought I would never see you again," he whispered, stroking her cheek. He recollected all the sour memories of his strenuous journey until tonight. "When they told me they had lost the drawing, I thought I had lost you forever. No photograph, no portrait, no data, you only existed in my memory. It crushed me. And then I met Natasha," he continued. "She looked just like you: the same features, the same laugh, the same humor and determination, the same strength. Every time I looked at her, I saw you. It was both a gift and a curse."
He smiled again, recollecting all the fond memories he had shared with her the past three years, and in the process embracing all the feelings he had for her but were too afraid to own or claim. It was undeniable he had fallen in love with Natasha, too. How else could he explain he had drawn her? That she had been enough to fill the void left by Natalie? Love can only be replaced with love. "And now I realize I never lost you. You've been here all along. You were here for me in the moments of my life I needed someone the most."
Natasha held back a whimper. "It was not supposed to happen that way, though. I was supposed to remain a replaceable acquaintance…' she whispered. '"Just a blast from the past you would have forgotten about quickly."
He laughed, amused that she could think she was the kind of person you could forget so easily. He never had. He hadn't forgotten Natalie, he never would have forgotten Natasha had she never returned from finding herself a new cover, heck, he hadn't even been able to move past the spy on the train, too eager to put a face and a name on the mysterious agent.
"Well, good luck with that," he said with a smirk. "You turned my world upside down the minute you walked in it." And by you, he meant all the women she had been: the intriguing journalist, the mysterious German spy, and the bold S.H.I.E.L.D agent.
Natasha smiled then she moved herself closer to him, erasing the last bit of space remaining between them. He heard his heart thud wildly in his chest. They hadn't been this close since that afternoon of 1943 outside the cinema when she kissed him. His lips tingled at the delectable longing of reenacting it.
"I told you I would find my way back to you," she whispered and stroked his face with her hand.
She had kept her promise. She had come back like she had sworn she would.
"It was so long ago." So long he had lost hope of seeing her again.
Counting the years after she had left and the years he had spent in this new century, nearly five years.
"For me, it was barely five days ago," she murmured.
He thought of Bucky and his wise advice. Five years. Five days. No matter the measure of time, it still felt too long ago. The moment to reduce the gap between them was long overdue.
He leaned in, gazed into her eyes and kissed her lips. First simply, as he gave time for every part of him to synchronize together and process the reality of the moment. He kissed both Natalie and Natasha as he realized this is what all he had ever wanted. Once it felt very much real on every level, the kiss became more eager, yearning. All of him wanted all of her. It longed for the taste of her mouth and the softness of her skin. Every second passing filled the void of his past sorrow with sheer bliss and satisfaction.
Natasha kissed him back with the same passion, both yearning for each other. His arms wrapped around her waist and he scooped her up while she clutched her legs around him and he groaned with lust against her mouth. He carried her over to the bed, thankfully close enough before he would run out of patience and lay her down on whatever spot would present itself.
He put her down on the bed and lay above her, prepping his palms on each side of the mattress.
She chuckled sweetly against his lips and broke the kiss. He smiled down at her; she looked so beautiful.
"What happened to the Steve I knew?" she asked, alluding to the young man from 1942 and the teammate from her former timeline.
He eyed her quietly, increasingly lusting for her. The Steve she knew had changed and learned to value time. He had repeatedly let things linger on until he risked losing it all. Like he once lost her, then nearly lost Natasha because he didn't dare to claim what he wanted.
"He met you," he answered with a hoarse tone of voice betraying his underlying wanting. Then he leaned down and caught her lips again. Next his mouth moved moved down her neck, to her collarbone. He heard her quiet moans vibrate inside her chest and he kissed her more ardently.
Hours later into the night, after their passionate embrace made way for pillow talks, he gazed at Natasha lying on the pillow across, smiling blissfully.
Since she hadn't clear memories of her new self yet, she had began to ask many questions about the new timeline. He tried to answer all of them. She asked about their relationship, here. She seemed surprised but pleased to find out they were closer than they had been in her original timeline.
She bit her bottom lip. "Did you tap that?" she asked cheekily.
He chuckled. "I didn't. I kept thinking of you."
Her playful smirk turned into an earnest smile. She reached to cup his face.
"That's adorable,' she whispered. He savored her touch on his face. "And good, " she said suavely. She leaned and her mouth grazed his lips lightly so it left them tickling for more. "It means we have a lot to catch up on."
He smirked mischievously. "I look forward to it."
He asked next about the mission on the train. She laughed uncontrollably when she heard he and Natasha had spent weeks investigating it together. She looked smug to find out both had struggled to figure it out but funnily also disappointed in herself for having left that pin behind. She called it highly unprofessional. She proceeded to explain how she had done it all, describing it step by step so there would be hole left,
He winced at the memory of her groaning in pain while she was fighting in the other carriage.
"Did he hurt you?" he asked softly and his fingers traced over the skin of her throat where he had seen through the cracked window the silhouette of the HYDRA agent choke her with his hand and lift her up in the air. Now he wished nothing more but to have had the opportunity to crush his head onto the floor for hurting her.
"Not as much as I hurt him," she exclaimed smugly then her voice went soft again, wanting to sound more reassuring as she read right through him that he needed to hear her say it. "It's over, now."
It was the best night of his life and he owed it all to her. And it was worth all the pain he had gone through losing her and meeting her doppelganger until she returned. He would go through it ten times over if it meant winding up in this room in the end. There was nowhere else he wished to be at this moment. Not even back in the 1940s.
"You made the right choice," he said softly, looking her deep in the eye. "Waking up in this new century was the right thing to do for everyone."
She gazed at him with trembling pupils.
"Do you mean it?" she asked. "It was one of the hardest decisions I ever had to make."
She had told him how she had for a while considered saving him from the plane crash so he could live on his life, even if it meant losing him.
He ran his fingertips up her naked arm to her face.
"It was a rough transition but now I understand why it was worth it,' he said and paused. He was truly happy in this new decade and had learned to enjoy what it had to offer. Also his life as an Avenger gave him an honorable purpose. He thought of what she had told him when saying goodbye. He smiled. 'And somebody once said that the price of freedom was high"
Natasha smiled with a guilty look.
"Actually, you said that."
They laughed, then as he realized he missed her close to him, he shifted over to her, folded his arms around her and kissed her.
She slipped her arm out from under the sheet to hold the back of his neck but stopped midway and pushed the sheet away. She looked at her stomach in surprise.
He furrowed his brows in concern. "What is it?" he asked.
He watched as she brushed her fingertips over the skin above her hipbone, seeming to be looking for something.
"I used to have a scar here," she whispered barely audibly.
He was curious to hear about it. It looked like this scar was significant to her. "Tell me about it."
"A bullet wound I got during one of my missions. The shooter 's job was to eliminate the man I was protecting. He shot him right through me.
Her story sent shivers down his spine. He stared blankly at her soft, immaculate skin, unable to imagine the scar that was supposed to be there.
"I had it for so long it became part of me," she said.
He couldn't quite understand why everything about her and her past had remained unchanged except for this scar. Soon, he came to the conclusion it was no random hitman.
"Who was the shooter?" he asked.
She took her eyes off her stomach and looked up at to him.
"The Winter Soldier," she answered and he acknowledged her answer. Neither of them wanted to call him Bucky. "It's officially a ghost story, now.'" She brushed it off, anxious not to make him comfortable.
He looked at her skin, trying to picture what the scar might have looked like. Although he had no reason to, he felt responsible that she had ended up having one in the first place. Then as he realized it would never happen, he felt grateful to her.
He looked her into the eyes and upheld his gaze as he slowly moved down the bed until he reached the level of her waist. He then averted his eyes down to her belly. He looked at the soft, white spot where the scar once was, leaned down and planted a kiss on it, deliberately letting the tip of his lips tickle her skin. He felt her body arch below him and her arm jerked up to his head as she squeezed a piece of his hair in a heated grip. He smiled and slightly parted his lips to let his warm breath brush against the spot on her stomach. Her body tensed again and he saw goosebumps rise along her skin.
He lifted his head up and laid his chin on her stomach, watching her beautiful face from down there.
"Now I have all the time in the world to thank you for it," he said.
And he had all the time to figure out all the possible ways he could proceed to do so.
"Steve Rogers, you're too dramatic," she answered with a playful smirk and a sparkle in the eye, eager to find out each and everyone of them.
He laughed along with her then went on to express all his gratitude and the whole of his adamant admiration for her for the rest of the night.
Author's note: Thank you for sticking around and for your amazing comments. A few more chapters to go. I'll update soon :)