Summary: Natalia may decide to join the CIA, but James still likes working underground as a hitman. They make it work until one of Natalia's superiors asks James to take her down. Then things get a bit messy.
A modern, hitman AU
James knows before she says a word―before she even walks through the front door―that he's in for it, but he still turns to greet her wearing a stupid frilly apron and a smile. It's a miracle he can get a word in at all before she chews him out.
"Hey, doll, how was―"
"Don't you fucking dare."
The door slams behind her and Natalia fixes him with a glare so fierce it would have had anyone else running. Not him, though.
"You shot me," she accuses. James's smile falters. "We have an agreement, James, and you fucking shot me."
It's not funny anymore and as she pulls down the sleeve of her shirt to reveal the bandage, James's gut twists. "Shit, doll."
He flicks the stove off and is at her side a second later.
Despite her anger, Natalia leans into his touch and lets him examine the bandage wrapped around her arm. It's snug and clean so she must have gone to medical, but he still feels bad about actually hitting her. He'd thought that he had missed.
"I swear it was short," he mutters to himself.
"It would have been," Natalia tries to assure him, "if Rogers hadn't tried to push me out of the way. Didn't realize he was actually making it worse."
He still feels horrible. They've been through worse before but seeing Natalia hurt always twists his gut in an unimaginable way. It's worse when it's his fault, no matter how indirectly. This, though, feels a bit too much like it's entirely his fault and he knows he won't sleep for weeks.
"I'm sorry, Nata," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to her arm.
Her fingers wind up through his hair and she pulls him down for a kiss as she hums, "I know. You'll make it up to me, though."
He certainly will, but he's going to give her at least tonight to rest. It's the least he can do after shooting her on her own mission. Damn Rogers for messing up his perfectly-planned, too-wide shot.
"Did Fury at least give you a day off?" James asks when she pulls away.
Natalia groans and lays her head on his chest. "No. He's seen me hit worse so as long as I'm conscious, he expects me in the office."
James frowns. He's met her boss a total of two times: the first, at an official staff Christmas party, and the second, in an attempted hit.
The second wasn't exactly his fault. He had just been doing a job. However, Natalia had given him so much shit for hitting Fury that he hadn't taken the full payment from his client. Luckily, he wasn't in the habit of being unfair and since the job had been to kill the man, James felt it was only right to accept a partial payment. Natalia's anger was a much more motivating factor in the decision, though, if he were honest.
"Would he change his mind if your worried husband asked?" James asks. Natalia snorts and shakes her head, but James already expected the answer.
"He'd laugh and tell you to go back to cooking dinner."
He smiles and after making sure she really is okay, he does just that.
Despite Natalia's injury and the way it weighs on James's consciousness, they have a nice evening in. He does the dishes and she curls up in front of the TV, high on so many painkillers that anyone else would have passed out already. The night is so calm that James almost forgets he has a meeting with a new client in the morning.
Long after Natalia leaves for the day, James finds himself waiting in a hole-in-the-wall restaurant for his new client. He doesn't like meeting in daylight in new places, but Zemo―an old client of his―had sworn up and down this guy was legit.
As the bell above the door rings and a shadow joins James in the back of the restaurant, he looks up.
"Winter Soldier?" the man grunts.
For a second, James forgets what to say as he stares up at Alexander Pierce, one of Natalia's superiors. If he wasn't worried about this being a set-up before, he certainly is now.
"'M 'fraid not," James says, shaking his head.
Pierce raises an eyebrow. "You sure? I don't see anyone else here, Soldier."
James isn't going to be fooled so easily.
"Not sure what you mean by that," James says. "Never fought a war in my life."
Pierce's lips twitch into a sly grin and he takes a seat across the table.
"You know who I am." It isn't a question and James doesn't treat it like one.
"I'd have to be a fool not to."
"Good," Pierce says. He slides a thin file across the table. "I'm not here to rat you out. I have a job for you."
Still doubtful, James leaves the file untouched.
"I don't trust agents," James tells him. He doesn't, but Pierce is here off of Zemo's recommendation. And Zemo is certainly not the cleanest guy James has ever met, so he's a little curious as to what one of Natalia's bosses is doing hiring a hitman.
"Oh, I bet you don't." Pierce chuckles. "I need the best, though, and the CIA won't bail me out on this. If you don't trust me, trust your buddy Helmut Zemo."
The use of Zemo's full name makes James think Pierce might actually be serious. He also knows that Natalia would have warned him if the CIA was on his tail or planning a set-up like this. At the very least, she would have suspicions, even if she didn't know the full plan. James also hasn't left yet, so if this is a set-up, he deserves to be caught.
He flips open the file and looks down.
"She used to be one of Russia's top assassins," Pierce tells him as James stares at the photo. "The CIA brought her in on a plea deal, but it's time she disappears."
James almost forgets how to breathe as he stares down at Natalia's photo. Even from afar, he knows that she has no idea this photo was taken. She's usually better than that.
"She's one of yours," James says, tearing his eyes away from the photo. "Why get rid of her?"
"Like I said," Pierce repeats, "her time is up here."
* * * * *
He takes the job because he's terrified of what will happen if he doesn't. While he may not know Pierce well, he knows there's no way a senior director in the CIA would consult him if he wasn't serious about getting rid of Natalia.
Damn, this is gonna break her heart.
He cancels their lunch date and doesn't explain why. It's enough that she'll know something is wrong so he waits for her at home. It takes her an hour which―in any other situation―would be worrying, but she does have a job that doesn't always allow her to leave immediately.
"James?" she calls, stepping into the apartment. "James, what's wrong?"
She finds him in the living room, brooding over his stash of weapons that he insists on keeping in a trap door under the couch. If it wasn't the best hiding place they had, she would tease him about being so cliché.
"What happened?" she asks, stopping just out of reach. "I thought you had a meeting with a client today."
"I did," he says hollowly. Natalia notices and her frown only deepens.
"Tell me what went wrong," she asks, joining him on the couch.
James procures the file Pierce had left with him. As if he had needed a reminder of who his target was.
"What the fuck is this?" she demands, staring down at her own photo. He can tell by her wide eyes that he was correct in assuming she had no idea the photo had been taken.
"We gotta go, doll," he tells her. He sets aside his gun and takes her hand in his. "Your head has a price now."
"And you accepted it?" Natalia exclaims. "Who was it? I'll take care of them."
"Pierce." James watches as the word registers with her and her eyes widen. "The CIA put a hit out for you and it's only a matter of time before they find a backup plan. Our time here is up."
"Don't be absurd," Natalia says. She tries to brush him off, but James catches the way she bites her lip and won't meet his eyes. "We'll take care of Pierce."
"No, Nata," James protests softly. "You know we can't."
Natalia's shoulders slump and James is quick to pull her to his chest, being careful of her injured arm.
"I like it here," she whispers.
"I know." He presses a kiss to her head and sighs deeply. "I know, but as long as there's a price on your head, I'll never sleep."
It's not new. They've both had prices on their heads before, but this time, it'll cost them both so much more. She'd finally gotten out of it and put her skills to good work. She'd found a home with the CIA and even though James still kept doing work underground, they'd been happy. It's a shame that they'll have to start anew once again.
"You don't have to go back to working," he promises. As long as he can, he'll make sure she doesn't have to go dark again. She never had enjoyed it as much as he had. "We'll find a nice home in the country and you can get a job as an English teacher."
"I like it here," she repeats and this time, her voice catches and she sniffles. "Godammit, James, I liked it here."
She cries and James holds her until she stops. It's not very often that she lets things like this affect her, but they both know what disappearing will mean.
"If it helps, I'll let you shoot Pierce before we go," he offers. She snorts but doesn't deny the opportunity.
It takes a couple of days before she gets the chance, of course. They have to fake her death first so that when they leave, the CIA doesn't put out an official warrant for her arrest. Unlike their past employers, it takes a little extra planning to fool the CIA. Fortunately, one of Natalia's coworkers―the very same one who brought her into the CIA―promises to help them once he gets wind of why she needs to disappear.
After a long day of waiting and the worst shot of his life, James finally meets Natalia in the back of a minivan that they take out of the city. She's unconscious, but Clint promises him that she'll be okay and it's only the painkillers that are keeping her down. He still feels bad about having to shoot her.
She wakes up somewhere between Pennsylvania and Ohio. It's pitch black outside and Clint has been grumbling about needing a snack for hours, but their attention shifts entirely to Natalia as she opens her eyes.
"Fucking hell, Barnes," she moans. Her hand moves to her hip. "That hurt."
"I'm sorry," he murmurs, peppering kisses to her face. "I'm really, really sorry, doll. I'll let you get me back later, yeah?"
"Yeah."
She loses consciousness again shortly after, but James's shoulders relax and Clint stops grumbling. They arrive at his farmhouse as the sun rises eight hours later and when Natalia wakes this time, it's for good.
Laura, Clint's wife, has a bed made for them both and the kids are conveniently at the neighbor's house. After making sure Natalia hasn't torn her stitches and James knows how to work the guest shower, Laura and Clint leave them both be.
"How ya feeling, doll?" James asks, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"I'll live," she assures him. She already looks less pale. "I'm looking forward to putting a bullet in Pierce's head for this, though."
"As soon as you're back on your feet," James promises.
A week later, they return to New York in the middle of the night. Fortunately, Pierce lives alone so their arrival isn't noticed until it's much too late.
"Soldier?" Pierce frowns, looking at James through the dark. "What are you doing here?"
"You tried to kill my wife," James says with narrowed eyes. "No one gets to kill my wife."
"Your―"
Pierce's question cuts off as Natalia steps out from behind him and clicks the safety off on her handgun.
"Hey, boss," she coos. "Miss me?"
She pulls the trigger before he can respond and they leave before the police are called.
Despite having to remake their lives (not for the first time), they manage well enough. Clint never tells a soul at the CIA what really happened to Natalia and James keeps a closer eye on the happenings on the black market. He's not eager to reset so soon after leaving New York, but he also doesn't want to have to shoot Natalia again just to save her life. It's a bit ironic.
The mark scars and he hates himself for it, but Natalia doesn't seem to care. Once she's fully recovered, though, they do bid farewell to Clint and his family before going to San Francisco. It's easier for James to find work and Natalia manages to get a job as a ballet teacher. It takes some time, but eventually, they're just as happy as before.