Natasha
"It looks like the information on the flashdrive originated from...New Jersey." I glanced at Steve. "Ready for a road trip?"
Steve nodded. "If it'll mean bringing down Hydra. Let's go."
We started through the crowded mall, keeping our eyes and ears open for any of the agents on our tail. As Steve and I rode the escalator down to leave, two agents rode the 'up' escalator, scanning their surroundings for us. I knew we had to do something to distract attention from us.
Something to guarantee that we kept our cover and that would make our tail uncomfortable, maybe uncomfortable enough to look away.
I whipped around to face Steve. "Kiss me."
His eyes grew wide. "What?! Natasha, are you out of your mind?"
"Public displays of affection make people uncomfortable," I said. "Just do it."
"But—"
Rolling my eyes—our window of opportunity was closing—I pulled him toward me, our lips meeting for a few seconds. Steve fumbled to wrap one hand awkwardly around my waist, and the other held the rail of the escalator. His lips froze against mine, unsure of how to respond. He tasted like mint and smelled like fresh aftershave.
If our lives weren't on the line, it's possible I would've jumped on him right there.
But after a second, even he relaxed into the kiss.
We broke apart a few seconds later, a look of shock on Steve's face.
I tried not to smirk. "You still uncomfortable now?"
Steve cleared his throat as we exited the escalator. "Not exactly how I'd describe it."
We made our way out to a car and Steve took the lead as driver to get us to New Jersey.
My lips still tingled from the impromptu kiss. "I have a question."
"That's dangerous. What is it?" he asked.
I laughed. "Well, first I want you to know that I respect you. As a person, as a teammate." I glanced at him. "So I totally understand if you don't want to answer what I'm about to ask. But you're kinda answering either way if you don't, you know?"
Steve shot me a look. "Cut to the chase, Romanoff."
"Ok, ok. So, that kiss...was that your first time since, um, well, since before the ice?"
Steve scoffed. "Yikes, it was really that bad?"
"No, that's not what I'm saying." I popped my gum.
"Then what are you saying?" He glanced over at me.
"I'm just...look, everyone needs practice—" I waved my hands through the air and risked a glance in his direction. Did he even realize how good of a kisser he was? Every first kiss with someone was going to be awkward.
"I do not need practice, Romanoff," he replied. "And no, that was not my first kiss since before the ice."
Did you like it? I wanted to ask, fearing the answer.
"And take your feet off the dash." He nodded to me.
I smirked. "That's one hell of a way to change the subject."
We arrived at the location from the flash drive—an old military base in Jersey. Steve used his shield to break the lock, but something seemed weird about this place.
"What is this place?" I asked.
"It's where I became Captain America," he replied, walking over to a set of computers. "And clearly, we aren't the only recent visitors." He pointed to the screens. All the tech here was ancient—not unlike him—except for a single set of USB slots, which would prove to give us more questions than answers.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
"I'm afraid that I have been stalling," the voice on the computer screen taunted only minutes later. "Goodbye, Captain America and Black Widow. I would say it has been a pleasure, but that would be a lie."
Steve and I only had a moment to look at each other before an explosion rang out. I ran toward him, and he covered us with his shield. As we stayed there under the rubble, his breath tickled my cheek.
Damn it. Focus, Natasha.
"I got you." Steve held me close under the safety of his shield.
"We have to get out of here," I whispered. My head pounded from the explosion, but I needed to focus on our exit strategy.
Steve nodded. "I know a place." He carefully helped me to the car, and we sped off in the direction of the city. We arrived at a small house a while later after miraculously avoiding all tails. But we could never be too careful.
Steve helped me up to the front door and knocked.
A few beats later, someone opened it.
"Hey, man. Do you think we can crash here? We're sort of in a bind," Steve said.
"Everyone we know has either betrayed us, tried to kill us, or both."
The man nodded, opening the door to help Steve and me get inside. "Not everyone. Come on in."
"Thanks," I told him.
"It's what I'm here for." He jutted his chin at me. "I remember you. I'm Sam."
"Yeah, I'm kinda hard to forget. Natasha." I winked at him then winced at the pain in my ribs.
"Easy there. Let me get you some ice," Sam said, heading toward the kitchen. "Bathrooms are down the hall with extra towels. I, uh, don't think I have any clothes that'll fit, but let me see what I can find."
"Thank you," I said, grateful for his hospitality.
Steve and I headed down the hall, each taking a room. I let the hot water roll over my shoulders, but I knew it would take more than one shower to process the events of the day. That kiss hadn't meant anything, merely a ploy to get us out of a sticky situation. Still, I couldn't stop replaying the moment in my head.
Once I had gotten dressed—Sam had managed to find sweats and a tank top for me to wear—I sat on the edge of a bed and toweled my hair.
"Hey." Steve leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms over his chest.
"Hi." I gave him a half-smile.
"How're your ribs?" he asked.
I shrugged. "Sore. But nothing I can't handle." I paused, averting my eyes from scanning Steve's face. "So, about what happened back there...thank you."
"You don't have to thank me," he said, offering me a small smile.
"You saved my life, Rogers," I replied quietly. "I owe you."
"You don't owe me, Romanoff. It's what friends—teammates do. That's what we are, right?"
"Friends? Or teammates?" I asked. I raised my gaze ever so slightly.
"Can't we be both?"
I laughed. "It's hard making friends in this business, Rogers. But then again, nothing is ever as it seems."
Steve considered this. "Very true."
The corners of my mouth twitched up into a smile. "But if you want to be friends, you should just start calling me Natasha."
"Well, Natasha," he smirked, "you should just start calling me Steve."
"Maybe I will." I paused, setting the towel down beside me. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"If we're ever in a situation like this again—and believe me, we will be—and it was down to me to save your life, would you trust me to do it?" My heart thumped as I waited for his answer.
Steve nodded. "I would now. Without hesitation."