Summary: a continuation/part two of the last chapter, but with Bucky's point of view now.
James couldn't think of a time in his life where things had been better. A year ago, he'd been taking jobs and crossing paths with the damned bodyguard that the black market called the Black Widow. He hadn't even had an apartment to call home. Now, he was living with said bodyguard and sharing a tub of ice cream in their living room.
If he'd been told back then that he'd be happiest curled up on an old sofa with the Black Widow, he would have laughed.
It had been a handful of months since he'd first asked her to accompany him to a dinner party, but even before then, he'd known he was in trouble.
He cooked them both dinner and didn't mind when she stole a bite before it was finished. She made him wash new jeans separately and attempted to help fix his mistake when he didn't. Perhaps she whined about his weapons being left around the apartment, but she tended to scatter first aid supplies all over whenever she came off a job with an injury.
He'd been screwed after two months and it was a bit of a miracle she hadn't noticed.
It had taken some adjusting, but their routines shifted to incorporate each other more than just through texting. James picked up groceries. Natalia picked up the mail. When he went to Europe, he always brought her back chocolate. When she traveled with Stark, she'd make sure to sneak home a fancy bottle of whiskey just for him.
In his arms, Natalia shifted and their limbs became even more entangled than before. If James hadn't been so content, he would have teased her about the octopus she seemed to be turning into.
"You're not eating any," she grumbled, pushing the ice cream away from her.
James's grip on it slipped, but he managed to keep it from falling onto the carpet.
"It's kind of difficult, doll," he murmured, attempting to lift the spoon to his mouth. Natalia's head on his chest presented some challenges, though, and since he knew better than to risk dropping ice cream in her hair, he didn't try again.
"I can move." She pulled away from him, but James tightened his arm around her.
"If I wanted you to move, I would have made you," he told her. He didn't miss her smirk as she settled back into his side.
"Well, when you say it like that."
She returned to her octopus-like state and James set aside the ice cream to hold her better.
As they tended to do after late-night jobs, they ended up falling asleep on the couch together only to be woken up by James's phone ringing.
"Make it stop," Natalia grumbled, pressing her face into his chest.
James fumbled for his phone and didn't bother looking at the caller ID as he pressed answer. He grunted into the phone and heard Steve laugh.
"I guess that means I'm on my own this morning," Steve teased. James just grunted again. "You sleep well, Buck."
His friend hung up without another word and James happily went back to holding Natalia.
Unfortunately, she had an early morning meeting with a client, so she pulled away shortly after Steve had hung up. While James was left to doze on the couch, Natalia quietly showered and ate breakfast. Just before turning to leave, she leaned over the couch and pressed her lips to his.
"Bye, lyubov," she murmured.
"Bye, doll."
She was out the door a moment later.
Currently between jobs, James had no compelling reason to get up and get to work. He took his time waking up and checking his phone, took a long shower, and eventually made himself breakfast at noon.
He had a job in Miami that weekend that he knew he should start packing for, but there was no real rush. It would be short―in and out within two days. All he needed was his duffel bag and a single rifle but preparing early never hurt.
He had just pulled the zipper closed on his go-bag and reached for his phone to text Natalia about dinner when her name lit up his phone screen.
"Hey, doll." He couldn't stop his small smile. "What can I do for you?"
"I'm going to be late tonight," she told him breathlessly. James's smile twisted. "Something came up and I'll be out of town to set a client up in a safe house. Probably won't be back until early morning."
"Are you alright?" he asked.
Natalia was quick with a gun and was a loyal wearer of kevlar vests, but James had shot her often enough to know that she didn't always escape a bullet. Anything that complicated her job enough to warrant an out-of-town safehouse typically meant she'd be raiding their first aid kit when she returned home.
"Yeah."
James didn't quite believe her.
"Steve is meeting me and taking over from there so I can come home, but don't wait up for me."
It was reassuring to know that Steve was involved, but Natalia wasn't one to hand over her clients so quickly. Even if it meant she could come home a day early. Something else had to be going on if she was willing to pass a client on to Steve and come home that night.
James decided not to ask what it was.
"You know that I will," he said instead. "I'll have dinner and the first aid kit waiting."
Even as she assured him it wasn't necessary, he could hear the smile in her voice. A moment later, there was a muffled voice from her end and Natalia had to go.
"I'll call you when I'm on my way home, okay?" She didn't wait for a response. "I love you."
The line went dead before James could echo the sentiment, but she texted him a heart emoji so he knew she hadn't been shot.
With Natalia gone for several more hours, James was left to find ways to kill even more time. He stopped by the grocery store to refill their first aid kit and medicine as well as buy food, then he set up camp in the kitchen and took his time making dinner. It wasn't often he got to experiment, but with Natalia gone and hours upon hours to kill, he decided to try something new.
It wasn't until nearly midnight that James glanced at his phone again and by then, he had cooked enough food to feed them both for a whole week.
Just as he settled into the couch―phone in hand and ready to text Natalia―he saw he'd missed a call from a number not in his contacts. It wasn't uncommon to get unknown calls, so James prepared himself for another job and pressed the number to call them back.
"Bucky Barnes," a familiar voice sneered. "Remember that favor you owe me?"
"Goddamn, Rumlow," James grumbled, rubbing his forehead. "Not even a hello." He sighed. "What do you need?"
"The Black Widow," Rumlow snarled. "She's ruining me, man. I know you have some sort of thing against her now, but you're the only one that's ever stood a chance at beating her."
James stilled. He hadn't intentionally been on the other end of Natalia's gun since he moved in over a year ago, but he had no doubt she was as good as ever. If Rumlow was calling about her, though, that could only mean she'd managed to stick her nose somewhere it never should have gone.
"I want her gone and I want you to do it."
James refused immediately.
"You owe me, Barnes," Rumlow reminded him, "and it's time I cash in on that favor."
"The Black Widow isn't yours to touch, you hear me?" James warned. "She may be a pain in your ass, but I'm the one who calls the shots on her."
"You've lost your touch, Barnes." Rumlow snickered and James scowled at the wall. "You gave up your right on her the minute you stopped taking her jobs."
"The Widow is mine," James snarled, "whether I take her jobs or not."
"You got two options," Rumlow sneered. "Either you get rid of her by the end of the month, or I take matters into my own hands. Without you."
"You couldn't touch her if you tried," James taunted. "You don't know the first thing about how she operates let alone where she is."
"Are you willing to bet her life on that?"
No. He was not willing to risk Natalia's life by assuming Rumlow had nothing on her. The fact that he had brought it up at all meant he knew more than he was letting on and James could already feel cold dread working its way through his body.
James growled. "Stay the hell away from her, you understand?"
"You're too involved with her, Barnes," Rumlow hissed lowly. "You take care of the Widow or I will."
The line went dead before James could say anything further.
* * * * *
Natalia arrived home at three in the morning with a limp and bruises covering her arms. Her shirt was torn and her shoes were muddied, but she wasn't bleeding as far as James could tell. It did little to console him.
"What the hell happened?"
He was at her side with a bottle of painkillers and the first aid kit before she had even finished taking off her shoes.
"I found the bad guys," she murmured, pushing the first aid kit aside and pulling herself to his chest.
"It looks like they found you." James pressed a firm kiss to her head and carefully folded her into his arms. "Talk to me, doll. What happened?"
"We were compromised before we even went out," she muttered, "but I knew that."
As she explained what happened, James's thoughts drifted to Rumlow. She'd been intercepted by a strike team―James was sure it was Rumlow's―and while her client had gotten through safely, she'd taken quite a few hits early on.
"I had to call Steve to take over," she admitted quietly.
She hadn't stopped by the hospital, so the next half hour was spent cleaning her scrapes and wrapping her ankle. It had been dislocated, but not broken. She had set it back in place herself and after a bit of feeling around, James was fairly certain it would heal properly.
"You should still get it checked out tomorrow," he told her. Natalia just hugged him in response.
After making sure she had eaten and taken enough painkillers to sleep through the night, James helped her to her room. He'd had every intention of returning to his own room so she could sleep properly, but the painkillers had kicked in and Natalia had turned into the octopus he loved. He couldn't have left if he'd tried.
While Natalia fell asleep shortly after lying down, James stayed awake. He'd been dozing before she arrived, but her return had his mind spinning.
She was less injured than in the past, he knew that, but Rumlow had called and made a direct threat on her life. Natalia had said she'd expected the complication and still somehow ended up looking like she'd tumbled down some very tall stairs. What would have happened if she hadn't anticipated Rumlow?
It was futile to worry. Natalia was good at her job and she was often partnered with Steve who had the tendency to worry like a mother hen. At work, she was always on guard and nearly unbeatable. He still found himself waiting with a clenched jaw and stiff shoulders whenever she left the apartment.
As a week came and went without incident, James grew wary. Rumlow liked to talk big, so there was the possibility that he'd merely meant to threaten Natalia and had no actual plan. After all, if James had been a fool and told Natalia about the threat, it was sure to affect her work.
Rumlow was a bastard and an idiot, but he knew as well as James did that distractions in their line of work―threats included―were likely to show up later on. A messy job, a missed shot. Distractions could be the difference between life and death.
When the second week rolled around and there was still radio silence from Rumlow, James decided he needed to get his hands dirty. It was pathetic to stay at home and worry about Natalia day in and day out. It had been a while since he'd taken on a new job, especially after giving up his last offer in Miami at the last minute. Perhaps it was just what he needed.
"I'll miss you." Natalia was once again wrapped around him on the sofa. "Are you sure you need to go to Los Angeles? It's so far!"
James laughed as she whined and pressed a kiss to her head.
"I'll be back in a week, doll," he reminded her. "I haven't worked in weeks. If I'm gonna afford rent, I gotta work."
Natalia grumbled and melted further into the narrow space between him and the back of the sofa. They ended up falling asleep there and although it wasn't the most comfortable spot to sleep in, it certainly wasn't the worst.
By the time she had finished breakfast the next morning, James had his bag packed and waiting by the door.
"Call me when you get there," Natalia told him, brushing a kiss to his lips.
"Of course." He'd probably call her several times over the course of the next week. "Tell Stark to get over his paranoia so I can have you all to myself when I get home."
"It's your fault he's so paranoid, you know," she teased. He stole a kiss from her again, lacking an argument to her accusation. "I'll make sure to let him know how you feel, though."
He kissed her one last time―long and hard―and only stepped back when they were both panting. He tugged his bag over his shoulder, pressed a kiss to her temple, and slipped out the door before she could try and convince him to stay like she always did.
* * * * *
When James returned from Los Angeles, he was tired and grouchy. The job had been a success, but he was pretty sure someone had seen his face which meant he'd need to lay low for a while.
Normally, he was far enough away that he didn't have to worry about it. Natalia was the only one to ever have a clear visual of his face and it was only because she was so damn good at finding his nesting spots.
While the chances of someone reporting his face to the local police were low, it was still a possibility that he'd have to be aware of. As such, he wouldn't be going back to California for at least a few months. It shouldn't be a problem as most of his work was on the east coast, but it still made him grouchy.
He half expected Natalia to appear in his arms the second he pushed open the door of their apartment, but she didn't. In fact, the apartment was suspiciously silent. The kitchen light was on but the TV was off and that in itself was strange. Natalia almost always had the TV on as background noise and often shouted at him for leaving lights on.
"Nat?"
He dropped his bag silently, but not before withdrawing a handgun from it. She should be home.
There was no response and even with a gun in hand, James was on edge.
He pressed the door closed with a nearly inaudible click. Taking a silent step forward, he scanned the apartment, eyes drifting over the dirty dishes in the kitchen sink and landing on the scattered first aid kit in front of the TV.
Frowning, James stepped in the direction of the TV and glanced down, half expecting Natalia to be asleep on the sofa. It was empty.
"Natalia?" he called again.
He moved down the hall and peered into her room. Just like the living room, it was empty and James felt his stomach twist. If the kitchen light was on, she should have been home. She wouldn't have left without turning it off.
Unless she didn't have a choice.
He pushed the thought aside and turned her bedroom light on to make sure she wasn't just blending into the bed covers. When the light flickered on, though, the room was just as empty as before.
With a curse, James left her room and stepped into his own, fully prepared to stock up on weapons and hunt down Rumlow right then. As the light stuttered on, however, someone groaned and shifted on his bed.
"Natalia?"
He flicked the light off and hurried across the room to kneel beside the bed. He reached for the lamp beside his bed and turned it on as he crouched in front of Natalia who was laying on her stomach.
"Hey," he murmured gently, "what are you doing in here, doll?"
Buried under his blankets and curled in on herself, she was hardly more than a small ball with a mass of red curls in her face. Slowly, he reached forward and brushed them out of her face so he could see her. She blinked at him blearily and groaned again.
"You alright, doll?" he asked with a frown. She shook her head briefly and for the second time that night, James felt his stomach drop. "What happened? Talk to me, Nat," he said, a bit more urgently.
"Steve didn't tell you?" she asked with a confused frown.
"Steve didn't tell me nothin', doll," he said, brushing his hand across her cheek. "Talk to me here. I'm worrying."
"Got found by the bad guys," she said. A smile pulled at her lips, but his heart was still pounding in his ears and her smile didn't reach her eyes.
"What do you mean?" James asked, already worried he knew what she meant.
"On my way home." She slowly rolled onto her back and James saw a grimace flicker across her face. "I make a lot of enemies, James, but none of them have ever hunted me down like that."
Rumlow. It was a warning if she was here alive. Either that or Natalia had fought like hell and somehow evaded Rumlow's strike team.
"Did he come here?" James asked. His thoughts darted towards the unlocked door. "Walk me through what happened."
"First," Natalia murmured, "you're gonna tell me what you're keeping from me."
He did, unfortunately. He told her about Rumlow's threat and the timeline, but also about how Rumlow had wanted him to be the one to take her out.
"You should have told me," she said with a scowl. Still buried in his bed, she wasn't much of a threat. "I wouldn't have been so unprepared, James. Do you know how lucky I am that Steve was with me?"
"No," James said, certain that he didn't want to know. "You still haven't told me what happened."
When she did, he realized she was luckier that Steve had been with her than even she knew.
Rumlow had attacked with the whole strike team. Steve had been joining her for dinner so she wouldn't be eating alone when the strike team ambushed them. They hadn't even tried to do it covertly and guns had been fired in a public space.
"I didn't have my vest," Natalia murmured. She pushed the blankets off of her and pulled up her sleep shirt―one of his―to reveal a large bandage across her abdomen.
"God," James breathed. The parts of her abdomen that weren't covered by bandages were black and purple in bruises.
"I got shot, Steve got beat pretty bad, and they all got away," she grumbled, tugging the shirt down again. "Someone called the police before they could finish the job."
"Don't say it like that," James muttered, eyeing the rings around her wrists and the scrapes across her forearm.
"That was the goal, wasn't it?" she said, a little too harshly. "To kill me? 'Take me out'?"
"Dammit, Natalia." James fought the urge to crawl into the bed beside her. "I thought telling you would be worse. I'm sorry."
"Yeah, well, at least now I know." She patted the bed beside her. "Plus, you're here so I can sleep."
"Let me lock the door." He pressed a kiss to her forehead and got up from beside the bed to lock the door.
He flicked off the kitchen light and stumbled towards his bedroom with his bag in hand. When he stepped back into his room, he tossed the bag and his handgun aside and slid out of his jeans. Just to be safe, he closed and locked his bedroom door as well before joining her bed.
"Is Steve alright?" he murmured, sliding in beside her.
She hummed in an affirmative. "He's pretty bruised and broke a rib or two, but he'll live."
As he turned the bedside lamp off, the room fell silent and Natalia curled around him. While her breaths were soft and soon evened out, James found himself staring out the window of his room. It was dark and they were several floors up, but he couldn't stop worrying about the possibility of Rumlow having followed Natalia home.
If he had, James would take care of him. He'd take care of the bastard either way, but if he came crawling to them, it would be all that easier.
* * * * *
It was three days later when Rumlow appeared again.
Fury had given both Natalia and Steve strict time off after the attack. Since Natalia had been shot, she was expected to stay home and rest. Fury's orders. However, James knew all too well that she'd get restless if kept inside too long so rather than stay home, they went out for lunch.
As they left the restaurant, Natalia wrapped her hands around his arm and pulled herself to his side. He laced his fingers through hers, pressing a kiss to her head, and they started the slow walk back to the apartment.
It was nice out and neither of them had bothered with a coat that afternoon, but James still had his handgun tucked in his waistband. Even before Rumlow's threat, he rarely left the apartment without it.
"Stark invited us upstate for the weekend," Natalia told him, glancing at him.
"Does he know you're off duty for the week?" James teased. Natalia rolled her eyes.
"He invited us as friends," she explained, poking his side. "He seems to think we'd enjoy his dinner party as guests this time."
"In a tux?" James grimaced at the thought and Natalia laughed.
"Yes," she said, "but I'll wear that black dress you love so much."
James hummed. It was almost convincing enough. It'd been too long since either of them had dressed up for a night out and he missed seeing Natalia get all fancied up.
"That is a strong argument," he murmured. Natalia's grin widened. "Are you sure he didn't just ask so that he has you as backup security?"
"Yes, James," she drawled. "He knows I got shot. He wouldn't drag me onto the field like that."
"You want to go." It wasn't a question. He could feel how excited the idea made her. She and Stark had an interesting friendship but James couldn't fault them for it. "Fine," he agreed.
Natalia's face lit up.
"We leave after the meal, though, okay?" he said, giving her a stern look. "No dallying around until Stark is drunk off his arse. I don't want to see that."
With another laugh, Natalia promised they could leave before then.
"If I'm still taking this pain medication," she said, "I don't think I'd stay awake much longer than that anyway."
She was incorrigible when it came to taking pain medicine, but James had learned to work around it. Despite being much smaller than him, she was religious about taking the same dosage he usually did.
They rounded the corner, hand in hand and with smiles on their faces. Lunch had been good, Natalia didn't seem to be in pain, and James wasn't painfully aware of everyone they passed. For the first time since he'd taken the job in Los Angeles, they were both simply enjoying the time.
"James?" Natalia hummed. "Do you still have your gun on you?"
Well, they had been enjoying the time. At Natalia's question, James's shoulders tensed and he mentally ran through a list of everyone they had passed in the last few minutes.
"Always, doll," he murmured. He pressed his lips to her head for an excuse to look to their right. "What do you see?"
"He's behind us."
James didn't need to check to know she was right. At the next side street, he pulled them off the main sidewalk and drew his gun in one move. Rumlow ducked down the street after them, gun raised and a sneer on his face.
"I warned you, Barnes," he hissed.
"I told you not to fucking touch her," James snapped, shoving Natalia behind him much to her displeasure. She grumbled in protest, but James didn't hear her. "I told you the Widow was mine and you weren't to interfere."
"You didn't specify just how yours she was." Rumlow snickered and gestured towards Natalia with his gun. "She isn't just your new roommate, Soldier, she's your new―"
He didn't get to finish his sentence. Before James even realized Natalia had moved, she had stolen Rumlow's gun from his hand and turned it on him. While she didn't kill him, she did shoot him in the knee and let him crumble to the ground in front of her.
"Holy―Natalia!" James exclaimed. He darted forward as Rumlow shouted in pain, but it was clear he wasn't in the headspace to attack them.
"Calm down, James," Natalia muttered, brushing off his worried hands. She passed him Rumlow's gun and pulled out her phone.
James stared at her as she opened Fury's contact and pressed call. The line rang once before she started talking, telling her boss to send a crew down to pick up the hitman that had been called on her and Steve.
"I'm fine, Nick," she grumbled into the phone. There was muffled chatter and Natalia rolled her eyes before saying, "The blood isn't mine this time, alright? Just send a crew."
She hung up and turned to stare at Rumlow who was still on the ground.
On the main street, people were beginning to stop and stare in on them. The gunshot had alerted the police as James could already hear the sirens and as tempted as he was to disappear, he didn't dare leave Natalia's side.
"The cops are..." James trailed off, glancing between Natalia to the main street. "How are you gonna explain this, doll?"
With the tiniest smirk, she pulled her badge from her pocket and winked.
"All's fair when someone points a gun at a client," she said smoothly. James had his doubts. "Fury will take care of it for me."
"You're fucking crazy," Rumlow said between gasps.
James scowled at him but Natalia merely raised an eyebrow.
"You're unprepared," she retorted. Crouching down in a way that James was sure had to hurt, she told Rumlow, "Next time you try to take me on twice, bring your little crew."
By then, the police had pulled up and had guns raised and badges out. James dropped the gun and put his hands up, but Natalia approached with her badge out and her head held high. Whatever she said to the police, it had them nodding and putting away their guns a second later. When she returned to James's side, her smile looked just a little too smug.
"They'll hold him until Fury's people get here," she explained. Her eyes darted down to Rumlow. "It's important I make sure my client is uninjured."
James tried not to roll his eyes, but her ruse worked because the cops didn't bat an eye as they passed. As they stepped back onto the main street and crossed to their apartment building, James spotted Fury's crew pulling up behind the cops.
"Are you sure you weren't at least a con artist in one of your past lives?" James muttered, throwing his arm over her shoulder. "You were way too prepared for that."
"In a past life," Natalia mused, "I would be an assassin. That was just work."
It certainly didn't look like anything he'd ever seen her do during work, but before when they encountered each other, he wasn't around to see how it played out at the end.
"You're ridiculous," James muttered, muffling a laugh as they stepped into the apartment building.
"I'm resourceful," she countered. "You're just jealous you didn't get to shoot him."
It was true, but it was also best that Natalia had. James would have shot to kill and that would have been much harder to explain to the police than what Natalia had done. That didn't mean that James wouldn't hunt Rumlow down and shoot him in the face as soon as he could, however. After all, he had pointed a gun at Natalia after James had told him not to.
"I'll shoot him later," he assured her.
"He'll be in prison for a while," Natalia told him, raising an eyebrow as he unlocked the apartment door.
"I'm a patient man, Natalia."
Natalia barked out a laugh and James stifled a grin.
"You're as patient as a child on Christmas morning," she teased. She pinched his cheek and stepped into the apartment. James locked the door behind them.
"He shot you," James said. He wrapped his arm around her waist and carefully pulled her to him. "Nobody gets to shoot my favorite bodyguard."
He half expected Natalia to laugh at him again, but she didn't. Instead, she reached up to pull his face down to hers and kiss him until he was gasping for air. Even then, she didn't let him pull far away as she peppered kisses across his cheeks and nose.
"You're adorable," she murmured, smiling softly at him.
"Yeah, I know."
She scowled and he laughed, drawing her even closer.
"I love you, too, doll," he whispered, burying his nose in her hair and deciding right then and there that if she was going to be his bodyguard, he'd be her hitman. What better way to keep her safe was there?