For three days, she didn't see anyone. She ate little, didn't answer her phone, and did her best not to leave her room. The others were worried, understandably, but she'd submitted to the brain scans and gotten a clean bill of health before running away. Because that was definitely what she was doing. It wasn't like her. But she couldn't face the others, not if they knew. Not until she'd decided what to do.
Midafternoon on the third day, her phone wouldn't stop ringing and she finally picked it up to see if there was some kind of crisis. Unlikely – it was Clint. It had occurred to her to call him, to get his, and Laura's, opinion of the situation. But, for some reason, she'd resisted that idea.
"Hey, Nat," he said in a gentle way that made her suspect someone had brought him in to deal with her.
"What's up?" she replied casually.
He paused, and she could hear a fond sort of annoyance directed at her when he spoke again. "How long are you going to do this?"
"This?" she echoed innocently.
It was as if she could hear his eyes rolling. "Hiding."
"It's a delicate situation."
"That's your specialty, Nat. You handle all kinds of sensitive missions without causing any international incidents. This hardly seems to be above your skill level."
She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. "It's just... uncharted waters."
There was another pause, after which he sounded surprisingly amused. "Well, 'Tasha, you seem like you need a push. So here it is. Your team is going to need you soon, both of you, and you need to clear the air before then. Go talk to him today."
Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, but the fact that he knew why she was hiding didn't immediately strike her as strange. Still, he was right, however he got his information – they couldn't afford distractions like this. "Alright."
"Good. You'll be fine."
"Thanks." She hung up and frowned at her phone. Then, with a sigh, she dragged herself toward the bathroom to get ready. Dressing for the occasion always made her feel more confident, even if that didn't mean bringing an arsenal. She found herself standing outside Steve's door much sooner than she would have preferred and knocked with a traitorously shaking hand. Listening for movement inside, she prayed that she wouldn't have to come back later.
"Natalia," Barnes said when he opened the door, a flurry of emotions crossing his face before becoming guarded.
"James," she replied. "How's your side?"
"Fine." An awkward silence settled over them and he shifted his weight. "Steve's not here," he stated quietly. His expression might be giving her nothing, but she had seen the way his eyes widened and suspected his pulse was racing at the sight of her.
"Good, because I didn't want to talk to him," she forced out, surging forward. He obligingly moved out of the way and she walked passed him into the living room. One of the bedroom doors, the one she thought was Steve's, was closed, while the other was open and she could see how sparsely furnished Barnes' was. Much like her own, she thought irrelevantly. Turning her attention to the man in question, she noticed that his hair was damp and supposed he had showered recently. It smelled clean in here.
He was watching her, waiting, and she paused uncertainly. "I had to clear my head," she told him without preamble.
Nodding, he looked away from her. "I understand," he murmured after a long moment in which neither spoke, eyes still averted.
She licked her lips. "I don't, uh, I don't know what you were offering the other day, but I..." Trailing off, she gauged his reaction before taking a tentative step toward him. "But I'm open to it."
His expression cleared and she thought he might smile as he raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
The question threw her momentarily. But it was a reasonable one. Just not one she was really ready to answer. Another step brought her close enough to touch his face, and she ran her fingers along his jaw thoughtfully for a moment while he held very still, regarding her. "I think... I think I love you, James Buchanan Barnes," she whispered.
She was aware of his smile before his lips were on hers. Then her arms wrapped around him automatically and she felt lightheaded when his did the same. He broke their kiss to pull her against him. "I love you, Natalia," he said, sounding relieved.
She closed her eyes and was content for a few moments. Then she smiled against his neck. "Is Steve coming back any time soon?"
Loosening his embrace to look at her, he raised an eyebrow again at her expression. "Not until tomorrow morning. Why?"
"I'd rather not be disturbed," she said innocently, then pulled him back down for a more insistent kiss, fingers pressed against the back of his neck. He made a surprised noise before pulling her closer. When he moved to run a trail of kisses down her throat, she gasped, digging her fingernails into him. His hands slid down her back and he picked her up, carrying her to his room. After setting her down gently, he drew back enough to look her in the eye.
"What do you want, Natalia?"
The way he was looking at her made her feel more vulnerable than she ever had, and she was momentarily tongue-tied. "This. You," she replied softly but not hesitantly.
He was more than willing to oblige, clearly, and the next several hours were filled with an exploration of what their carefully honed skills could accomplish besides ending lives.
It was morning when Natasha stirred herself to move from the spot where she'd ended up after the last event. She was lying half on James' chest, his arm around her waist, her legs stretched out off of the bed. Shifting her weight, she slid herself back onto the bed, and James pulled her waist over until she was flush against him.
"Good morning," he murmured, pressing a kiss into her hair.
"Is it?" she responded playfully, looking over at him with a grin.
He had been sleepy, but opened his eyes more to consider her reaction. "Very. But I'm tired," he told her firmly.
Laughing, she repositioned herself to give him a quick kiss. "I'm hungry," she informed him in the same tone.
"Can't imagine why," he said drily as he moved to the side of the bed and sat up.
Resenting the lack of contact, she followed him. "What's for breakfast?"
He rubbed his face with his real hand, tentatively placing the other one on her waist before turning to look at her. "What would you like?"
A shiver ran through her at his touch, but she pushed that away. For now. "Whatever doesn't require us to go anywhere."
With a nod, he stood up and began getting dressed. She did the same after a beat. "So the dining hall is out of the question," he stated, watching her finish dressing.
"If possible." She didn't say that she didn't want to see any of their colleagues yet, didn't want to have to explain themselves to anyone. But he seemed to understand anyway.
He lifted her chin to kiss her. "We can eat here," he told her gently when he broke away.
"Thank you."
As they left his room to go to the kitchenette just outside, she considered how different she felt as a result of opening up to James. It made her feel like anyone might be able to read what she was thinking, see who she was and how she felt all the time, and she didn't like that idea at all. It was fine – nice, even – when James did it. But she was afraid of how their friends might respond. Besides, she didn't want to look like a lovesick fool in front of them, and not being with James in public seemed the best option at this point.
She leaned against the counter and watched James make them bacon and eggs. It was enjoyable, watching him. He was good with his hands, she supposed, and felt her cheeks grow warm at the thought. If he noticed, he didn't say anything.
There wasn't a table, and she didn't really want to eat at the counter, so she led the way over to the couch when breakfast was ready. As soon as she picked up her fork, she was struck by how hungry she really was – she'd been too nervous to eat the day before. And had burned quite a few calories since then. James appeared to be just as hungry, so they ate in silence.
When they were finished, he put his arm around her and she leaned against his chest, releasing a satisfied sigh. "Breakfast was good?" he asked, sounding amused.
"Mmhmm," she responded, closing her eyes.
"Now what?"
Forcing herself to wake up a little, she shrugged. "We could watch TV."
"Sure."
They watched the news for a while – it was depressing for the most part, but had a bit about what Steve had been doing the day before. And that was mostly positive. James stiffened and looked angry whenever it wasn't, but she nestled against his chest and wrapped her arms tighter around him – that seemed to calm him down enough to kiss her.
Which is what they were doing when she heard the distinct sound of the door being unlocked. An irrational panic took her and she started to pull away from James. He didn't stop her, but looked a little crestfallen, so she settled against his chest again before the door finished opening and Steve walked in.
His posture was bent from exhaustion, and he didn't glance in their direction as he headed for his room. "Hey, Buck," he said by way of greeting.
"Steve," James replied levelly.
"Steve," Natasha mimicked James' tone.
That stopped him in his tracks, and he turned around to look at them. The shock on his face made her giggle, and she could feel James laughing a little. "Well, that's... that," Steve managed to get out at last.
Smiling demurely, she nestled against James again. "It went well, they were saying," she said conversationally, motioning toward the news still playing.
"Yeah. How long was I gone?" he asked, ignoring the television behind him and still staring at the two of them.
"Couple days," James supplied, since Natasha didn't know.
"Uh huh." Steve finally blinked and shook his head. "Well, I'm sure someone can explain this later. I'm going to bed."
"Sleep well," Natasha called lightly, earning a frown from Steve.
At his door, he suddenly stopped and ran a hand through his hair before turning back to look at them. "If this isn't a dream, I'm going to owe Sam a lot of money."
"Why?" James asked levelly.
"We had a bet going... Looks like I lost," Steve explained, sounding pleased despite himself.
James and Natasha exchanged a look and smiled at each other. "It's not nice to bet on your friends," Natasha said at the same time that James said "Looks like you did."
Steve shook his head at their laughter before he went in his room. Natasha settled against James again and made a contented noise – for possibly the first time, she felt at home.