Head Is Not My Home

Our Time Right Now Will Set Us Free and Relieve Us of Our Misery

Natalia knew where his room was. She knew where he was debriefed and was usually able to find out his schedule before he did. Not that his handlers considered it important to let him know what he would be doing or where he would be going. That information was often unavailable even to her, but she knew when he would be there and when he would not. When he was there, she spent any free moment she could steal with him.

The Black Widows who remained began attending weekly lessons from the Winter Soldier, or the American, as many called him. He taught them about American culture to better prepare them for manipulating the high-ranking officers they would soon be called upon to meet. Many of his skills could not be taught, but he also trained them to fight sometimes. He knew techniques that would help smaller persons such as herself face off successfully against large adversaries. How he knew this, he couldn't say.

They spoke often but hiding their relationship from their superiors was becoming difficult. It was easy enough to sneak into each other's rooms at night and sneak out again before they were missed. But having to see each other several times a week, surrounded by people trained to sniff out secrets? Well, it was a challenge.

Keeping it professional wasn't as much fun as she would prefer, but she was very aware of what might happen if they were discovered. It wasn't worth it, just to tease him when they were sparring. So she would remember her jabs and tell him later, when they were alone. Sometimes, she could make him laugh, and those moments were her happiest.

Finally, after months of training, the Black Widows were sent into the field. Including herself. It was a relief to find that they did not insist on treating them all again before they left. Her joy at leaving the facility at last was soon diminished. They were moved to Leningrad, to a dormitory near the opera house. Her days were filled with dancing, hardly different from before.

It was over a week before they were sent on a mission, long enough that she had begun to think this was all a ruse to get a new ballet troupe. It was a fancy dinner, and even the most hardened of the girls couldn't restrain their excitement at the chance to finally do something. Especially if that something involved wearing beautiful backless dresses and having their hair done up in the newest style, whatever that was.

Madame B arrived to give them their orders, which were just to mingle and prove their ability to maintain their covers. That was something of a disappointment, but Natalia was determined to enjoy the evening nonetheless. The first few hours passed without incident – she would be introduced to someone, speak to them with an intentional Russian accent, be demure and charming, laugh at jokes she didn't necessarily understand or find amusing, then be introduced to someone else. Working the room, Madame B had called it. Because this was a competition – everything was – Natalia was intent on meeting and charming everyone present.

To her surprise, Colonel Shostakov was in attendance. A majority of the guests were foreign dignitaries, so he must have been well-connected indeed to warrant an invitation. She approached him confidently.

"Ah, Natasha, isn't it?" he asked, eyes flickering away from her as though nervous.

"What a wonderful memory you have," she told him sweetly.

"I hope you're feeling better this evening. Will you be dancing for us?"

He seemed uncomfortable and she smiled, taking his arm. "Only if some handsome young man asks me."

"It would be my pleasure," he replied and she had a moment to wonder at his sincerity before she found herself on the dancefloor. The moves were second nature to her by now and she had a chance to get a better look at the crowd as they moved around the room.

"Are you in town for long, Comrade Shostakov?"

"Alexei," he corrected gallantly. "Not long, I'm afraid. I'll be returning to Moscow tomorrow."

"Oh no! You will miss our performance on Friday."

"A devastating loss, I'm sure," he agreed.

She smiled winningly at him. "Perhaps you will return soon to see us before our tour goes elsewhere."

"I shall do my best to try," was his seemingly sincere promise.

They spoke little more before the dance ended and he took his leave of her. She wasn't sure if she had successfully smoothed over their last encounter or not. Certainly Madame B would commend her for trying, though. She headed over to the refreshment table and stared down at an array of confectionary the likes of which she had never seen.

"You'll like the third on one the left, I think."

Glancing up, she was shocked to see the Winter Soldier. He was wearing an officer's coat, with gloves to hid his metal hand. The look on his face was strictly professional, but the corner of his mouth twitched as he gestured toward the dessert he'd suggested.

She smiled at him in what she hoped was a politely distant way, and tasted the treat. He was right, of course. It was amazing, and she let herself grin in delight. Surely that wouldn't be against her cover? Ballerinas were likely on as strict a diet as operatives were, and would be as pleased with the chance to let loose a bit.

"What are you doing here?" she murmured between mouthfuls.

"Working, same as you. Better get back out there to mingle, before anyone notices you here," he told her.

"Is that what you're doing, mingling?"

He snorted. "That's not exactly in my job description. Though I've been enjoying watching you."

His gaze was intense and she wondered if he was bothered by her flirting. It wasn't real, she wanted to tell him. It was just the job. Maybe later. "I'll get back to giving you something to watch, then," she said with a wink, and headed back to the crowd.

Hours later, Natalia had removed her fancy clothing and was wearing something far more practical as she made her way through the darkened halls of their dormitory. The front door wasn't locked and she moved purposely toward the hotel where she knew the Winter Soldier was spending the night. The address had been written in the wrapper of the confection and she had been impressed by his spycraft. He was usually called in for more brute force assignments, after all.

She climbed up the fire escape, keeping an eye out for anyone who might notice her moving in the darkness. It took some time, but she reached his room eventually. "Natalia," he breathed as he opened the window, and she had enough time to think that it had been too long before he pulled her to him and she thought of little else.

"And where do you think you're going?" she asked, sitting up and pulling the sheet to keep herself covered.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you," he answered as he pulled on his trousers. He paused, looking up at her like he was trying to commit the sight of her in his bed to memory.

"Take me with you," she suggested, stretching and giving him more to look at. Or maybe tempt him to stay.

"You know I can't do that." His tone made it clear that her action had the effect she had been going for. "If anyone found out about us, we'd be sent to Siberia, or worse," he added, buttoning his coat. Then he leaned over to kiss her gently. "And remember to go out the back windows. In the shadows. The Kremlin has eyes everywhere. I'll see you soon."

She watched him go,and settled back with a sigh. How soon?