Tony and Pepper were out wining and dining some international perspective clients, Clint was on assignment in Prague, Sam was at staying interstate with family for the week for his cousin's wedding, Jane was guest lecturing up at Colobus University and had dragged Darcy and Ian along to 'assist', Bruce was at a science convention is Boston, Thor and Steve had been called out for a mission in downtown New York, thereby leaving only Natasha and Bucky at Stark Towers. Not that either of them minded, as both generally kept to themselves, Bucky in the gym and Nat in the armoury. It was later in the afternoon and Natasha had cleaned her weapons and had just finished eating an afternoon snack. She got up to put her plate in the dishwasher.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, seeing Bucky lurking in the corner. If she was anyone else, he would have given her a fright, "No sneaking up. We've said about that."

"Is Steve back yet?" Bucky asked. Natasha noticed the tension in his voice as she put her plate in the dishwasher.

"No, I don't know what time they'll be back. Everything alright?"

Bucky opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

"Oh," Natasha said, "Ok," Why did he have to freak out now when Steve was away? "Do you want me to call him?" Steve would hate that, but it was better than letting Bucky suffer in whatever sort if internal hell he had rediscovered.

"I know…" Bucky choked.

"Know what?" Natasha asked apprehensively. She really like her chances if Bucky completely snapped and tried to attack her, but for some reason Natasha thought that was unlikely.

"I know who you are."

"Ok…"

"I don't - I remember I, it's just - I'm not sure…"

"Do you want…" Natasha wasn't sure where she was going, and she had no idea what Bucky might want. It was hardly a secret that most nights he ended up bunking with Steve, or visa versa, after Bucky woke from his nightmares, but what about when it came back during the day? What did Steve do then? Did this happen often? "Do you want a drink?" Natasha asked somewhat pathetically.

"I hurt you."

Oh, Natasha thought, that's what he remembers. But which time? Five years ago, or earlier this year in Washington?

"I shot you," Bucky was breathing heavily. He looked - defensive? No, he was scared, terrified. As though she would get mad and try to hurt him. And he wouldn't fight back.

"Yep," Natasha said trying to keep any sign of fear from showing, "But you were doing your job. And I was doing mine." She said slowly, having no idea if that was the right thing to be saying or not.

"I hurt you," Bucky looked as though he wanted to run. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, Natasha thought, too frightened to run. Was this what Steve put up with every night? What did he do?

"Well, I'm alright now," Natasha said.

"I can't - " Bucky choked.

"It's alright," Natasha said, even though it was all very much not alright, "Come on. Come and sit down. I'm ok. You can see that. I'm ok, and you're ok, and everything's alright. Ok?"

Bucky shook his head and tried to retreat further into the wall.

"Come on," Natasha said, holding out her hand, still with no idea as to whether she was doing this right, but knowing that she couldn't leave him like this. "Come and sit down."

Reluctantly, Bucky reached out and took Natasha's hand. She forced herself not to flinch when the cold metal of his hand touched hers. Instead, she wrapped her fingers around it and led him over to the couch. She sat down, and he sat beside her. Everything about his posture was wrong: he was sitting too straight; he looked as though he was bracing himself for something horrible to happen.

"Hey, you can relax, you know."

"I can't…" He gasped.

Natasha sighed and leant back into the couch. She had one idea, and he'd either go with it, or try and attack her. "Come here," she said as she slowly wrapped her arms around Bucky's shoulders and pulled him close. Natasha found herself running her fingers gently along his arms and kissing his head. "You're alright," Natasha repeated, despite the fact it was clearly a lie. Bucky's heart was racing, he was close to hyperventilating, his right hand was clammy, both fists were clenched tightly. Natasha has learnt long ago to control her breathing and heartbeat. To lie. "It's alright," she said as Bucky gasped for air. She'd certainly been in worse situations, and laid with men more dangerous than the broken Bucky Barnes. Natasha continued to hold him close. After what felt like an hour but was probably closer to ten minutes, he took her hands and wrapped them across his chest, holding them in place with his own arms. He lifted his legs up onto the couch and relaxed back into Natasha.

"Steve trusts you," he mumbled after a while.

"He trusts you too," Natasha replied. Bucky was calming down, and for that she was thankful.

"He needs a good team."

"He's got one."

"I know." Bucky said.

Natasha wasn't sure what to make of his tone. "He wants you to be part of it."

"Part of what?" Bucky asked, entwining his fingers with hers.

"The Avengers."

"What do I have to avenge?" He scoffed.

"The past 70 years," Natasha said, not sure where her words were coming from, "You can make it right."

"What would you know?" Bucky mumbled.

"I haven't always been one of the good guys," Natasha confessed.

Bucky just shook his head and held Natasha's arms. She didn't know what else to say. As they lay together on the couch, her mind began to wander. Was this the first time in 70 years he'd been held by a woman? Probably. Almost certainly. She watched as he traced her fingers with his own. The metal of his left arm was warmer now after prolonged contact with her own body. His breathing and heart rate were back to normal. Natasha reached up and pushed Bucky's hair back from his face, tucking it behind his ears. He looked back at her. She smiled and the corners of his mouth twitched, making Natasha smile broader, despite it breaking her heart because he looked like a child. He looked like a small, innocent boy - because really, that's what he was. He was still that kid from 1940's Brooklyn. Sure, he had fought in the War, but he'd been with friends - it had really all been one big adventure: there were no gap-years to Europe back then, so war was the only chance for travel for boys like Bucky and Steve. They lay entwined on the couch for over half an hour before Bucky spoke.

"Can I ask a favour?" he asked shyly. Natasha felt his heart rate increase again.

"Ask away."

"Will you dance with me?"

"Umm…" Natasha hadn't expected the favour to be that.

"You can say no," Bucky said quickly.

"No," Natasha said, "No, I mean yes. Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes. Come on. Let's."

"Ok," Bucky said, untangling himself from Natasha's hold, sitting up and swinging his legs off the couch. He stood up, placed his left arm behind his back and held out his right

hand. "Miss Romanov, can I please have this dance?"

Natasha grinned. "Mr Barnes, how could I refuse?" She said, taking his hand and standing up. Natasha wondered what was going through his mind. Bucky smiled. He actually smiled, and Natasha felt her heart skip a beat. He was very good looking when he smiled, she had to admit. "Jarvis, play us something to dance to."

"Something Mr Barnes will recognise or something more modern, Agent Romanov?"

"I don't care!" Natasha laughed, "Quickly, Jarvis."

"Very good," Jarvis replied.

The music started and Natasha automatically wished that she had chosen something or that Bucky wasn't paying any attention to the lyrics. "Stolen Dance." Seriously, Jarvis? Natasha made a mental note to have to have a word to Tony about this. Bucky's left hand secured itself around her waist, and her took her left hand in his right. Natasha couldn't help but notice how natural he looked, and how naturally the movement came to him. It helped her to relax into his grasp as they moved in time to the music, which, as it turned out, worked rather well.