Chapter Text
July 23rd, 1947.
Tokyo was too loud; he hated the hustle and bustle of it. There were so many people and everything seemed too bright. It was like no one in this godforsaken city knew what it was to exist in darkness or silence and while a part of him had resented both of those things once upon a time, he craved them now if only to have a moment where he could think without hearing someone talk or laugh or the sound of cars and the lights of the street or even the fireworks overhead.
Fireworks that had the soldier flinching though he didn't know why. He couldn't remember why.
James Barnes was unaware of who he was; the Winter Soldier was the only thing he could remember being. He wanted to get this over as quickly as possible but the manila file on their target wasn't the only one that he had to read tonight. He had a whole other one - with far more information, too - on his partner for the mission. He'd trained with her for the better part of a year now, but he still barely knew what to make of her; it didn't matter though because he didn't need to.
Need. What was need?
Want? Want was a foreign word.
All that mattered was the mission. He leafed through the documentation on his partner; the picture they had in here did her no justice at all and the thought brought a smirk to his lips. He shouldn't care, it hardly mattered. As soon as this was over... He frowned. There was a nagging voice in the back of his mind that screamed at him that this wasn't where he was supposed to be; there was more to everything than this.
A voice that he sought to suppress and quiet.
He flicked his eyes to the section with her name and he noted the date next to birth date and a small laugh broke his lips; he glanced at the clock on the wall that ticked away too loudly for his liking; they were due to go in the next few minutes and he pushed himself up out of the chair at the small desk and he closed the file, setting it inside of the drawer that he locked and tucked the key in the top of his tac vest; he made his way toward the door and glanced back at her.
"It's time to go." There was nothing in his voice, no emotion. He bit it back brilliantly.
There was only the mission, only there wasn't. Something undefinable stirred inside of the soldier and his hand clamped around the door handle; the metal screamed and creaked in protest. He felt her approach behind him and he shook it off almost immediately, wordlessly leaving the room.
The young redhead studied the handle curiously before she followed him out.
She'd been out for months now, months in which her mind had been made and unmade, muddled and forced and played with and still, she stood here today with some awareness of herself and she hated it. She'd push through it because there was no other choice, not for her. She breathed out a sigh as she followed him.
Her arms around his waist as they sped through the city on a motorcycle that purred like a kitten and it brought a smile to his face. He was almost sorry that they'd gotten to their destination as quickly as they did. He loved the feel of the wind against his skin and the sense of fleeting freedom he felt. He regarded her carefully as she climbed off of the bike. Studying her outfit provoked a pang of an emotion he wasn't used to feeling: Jealousy.
She flicked a look back over her shoulder, knowing all too well now that he was going to find the vantage point they'd discussed on the rooftop across the street and she looked almost like she wanted to say something; she decided against it, it seemed because she remained silent.
Once he'd reached the rooftop, he had a clear line of sight to the penthouse she'd been sent to in order to get closer to their target in order to line him up for the Soldiers shot. The target made his way into the kitchen but his line of sight was obscured and he huffed out a sigh. He heard the gentle buzz of the radio in her purse.
"Did I ever tell you it's my birthday tomorrow?" She was talking to the target.
He was supposed to listen in in order to make sure they'd gotten every ounce of important information before the soldier put a bullet in his head but he felt a sort of sadness; he faltered. He was never supposed to falter. He watched the target turn around to face the redhead, informing her that they'd have to be sure to properly celebrate and in that moment, he put the rifle down; his line of sight no longer existing and a battle waged inside of him. It was her birthday tomorrow and the arrogant son of a bitch she was in that room with had a point: she should celebrate properly.
It didn't matter, he kept telling himself that over and over in his mind, it didn't matter. They'd been trapped inside of that place now the whole time he'd trained with her; if he took the shot now she'd spend her birthday being wiped. That seemed almost too cruel for him to abide.
Maybe he did have a conscience after all.
He released a sigh and he turned to pick up the radio. It was her birthday tomorrow. That mattered to him.
"Stand down, Romanov." The Russian words slipped his lips.
Internally, he chastised himself for this; the mission was far more important than one agent and a birthday he shouldn't even care about. She was just another expendable asset. She was just someone with whom he'd been partnered on a mission with and nothing more.
Wasn't she?
She heard his words and she glanced out of the window, assuming that he could still see her but when the radio remained silent upon her quizzical look, she knew otherwise. He'd put his rifle down, the scope no longer offered him his sight into the room. The target walked toward her again now and Natalia offered him a seductive smile.
"Alas, we must put tonight on hold; I'm afraid I must leave." Not that he had much of a choice.
She reached inside of her purse for the sedative she kept there and jabbed him in the neck. He wouldn't remember anything in the morning and their mission would remain unscathed, at least she hoped.
She left the building via the service entrance; he revved the engine to let her know that he was there and that she'd better hurry up. Neither one of them said a word to each other until a good half hour after they'd gotten back to the hotel room.
"Why did you call it off? You would've had a shot in minutes." She demanded finally, unable to take the silence anymore.
"It's almost your birthday." He replied.
Why should he even care? She only knew because it was one of the few real pieces of information in this new implant of hers.
It was the only thing she got out of him before he stood up and walked out of the room; she stared after him incredulously and shook her head, turning back to the photographs she had laid out on the bed and laid down on her belly, studying each of them without really paying absolutely any attention to any of them at all. She just wanted to do something to take her mind off of the fact that she didn't understand why he'd blown their mission for something so trivial.
It was trivial.
It didn't matter.
He arrived back after about 20 minutes and she turned to look at him over her shoulder; he had a paper grocery bag in his hand and she frowned curiously as she turned over and pulled herself up. He carried the bag and placed it onto the top of the desk and pulled out a bottle of wine, he held it up; it was apparently one of the finest in the city, or so the woman at the store had told him. There was a gentle smile on his face; she'd never seen that before.
"It's almost your birthday, you should have the chance to celebrate." He sounded almost human.
They'd punish the both of them if they found out about this. Their punishment - he had no doubt - would be severe, his perhaps less so than hers. HYDRA had spent his career with them telling him how important he was; he was merely on loan to the Russians, another asset to be passed around but he had value. He wasn't sure the same could be said for the Little Spider. It was the first time he'd stopped to think about the fact that he may very well be putting her life on the line for this, but it felt somehow important to him. It felt important to him that she wouldn't spend her birthday in the facility being wiped away again.
He knew what was coming as soon as they got back just like she did. Reaching into the bag again he pulled out two wine glasses and inclined his head for her to join him. He made his way over to the door of their balcony and he opened the sliding glass door; he stepped down upon one of the chairs at a small glass table and set down both glasses, filling them though he knew it was useless; they couldn't get drunk. Useless, but the sentiment was hopefully enough for her.
She chewed her lip gently as she considered whether or not she should join him or if she should hedge her bets on the probable safe option that would mean her punishment would be less severe and stay here; she chose to join him. Stepping out into the nights breeze, her hair blew gently and she twisted it, pulling it over one shoulder and she offered him a smile as she sat in the chair opposite him with one knee pulled to her chest and she reached for the wine. She studied him for probably the millionth time, but it still felt strange for her. They hadn't wiped them before this mission; she remembered months spent training alongside this man but... The implant was still messing with her head.
"I've trained you for months, Romanov; you never shut up." He poked playfully.
"Natalia." She shot back, a smile playing on her lips.
"Natalia" He replied sarcastically, He was messing with her and she knew it.
"What exactly is it you want me to say, hm? You and I have a mission here that doesn't involve you wining and dining me, Soldat." She rose a brow as she spoke.
"I wouldn't call bad room service dining anyone." He shrugged, trying to fight the grin that threatened his features.
He shouldn't care. He kept repeating that mantra over and over in his head. He shouldn't care, but it had been almost a year and he'd gotten to know this girl; he still felt like he didn't know a damn thing about her because she kept herself guarded but then so did he. He'd gotten little bits of information out of her over the time he'd spent with her just like she had with him but he'd been determined that it didn't mean a damn thing; he'd been determined it was work and work alone. They were supposed to make a good team and it was better to know your partner as well as you could on a professional level and that was all it was ever supposed to be.
Why did he even care? He heard the clock strike midnight and he held up his glass to her in a toast.
"Happy birthday, Natalia." He made sure to use her name; it still felt strange to him.
"Thank you, James." She replied, a soft blush touched her cheeks.
He couldn't help but note that the delicate pink accented her hair, nor could he fail to notice the fact that her eyes had flecks of gold and brown around the irises though they shone a bright green. He couldn't fail to notice the way that her mouth quirked anyway when she tried not to smile, or the way that her nose would wrinkle just a little when she was confused.
What was this?
He flexed his metal hand. He watched her eyes flick to it immediately and he shook his head gently at her. It was no threat; he was making no threat to her or her safety, he had no intentions of harming her. He was far too curious on why he cared as much he did or why he'd noted the small details about her. She had a freckle just above her right collarbone that looked like a bird. A scar running down the top of her left arm that was about three inches that he remembered her telling him she didn't know how she'd gotten it. He reached out to trace it with his finger and she shivered slightly at his touch.
He knew people hadn't always been so kind with her; he understood that from firsthand experience.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Little Spider." he murmured gently.
A gentleness that he'd long since forgotten that he was even capable of. A gentleness that sounded almost foreign to him; it had been so long since he'd had anyone to be kind to much less anyone that had offered him kindness in return. Her eyes fell to his hand and he felt her arm move almost like she wanted to react. She didn't. She fought for composure instead.
She couldn't fight the rising tide of confusion in her regardless of how many times she tried to quell it In the time the two of them had spent together she'd started to care more than just for earning his approval. At first she couldn't have cared less if she tried; she was arrogant, she was over confident and she'd had her ass handed to her more times than she could count because of it. He was experienced, he was disciplined in a way that she wasn't and it showed in his training with her. It showed in the way that he overpowered her and pinned her, it showed in the way that he held her down and countered her attacks easily. He was something else entirely.
She had been raised by the monsters that pulled her strings. He'd been something else before. She could still see the faint traces of a human in his eyes; she had long since thought that had disappeared from her own. She'd been a killer since she was 13 years old. He looked like there had been a before that wasn't just what they'd turned him into and she'd tried to ask, but he had no recollection of it.
"They'll punish us." She looked down as she spoke.
He dropped his hand from her shoulder and he released a deep sigh, nodding his head in agreement. He knew that she was exactly right; if it ever came out that he'd blown their mission purposely there would be hell to pay for both of them.
"If they find out." He added, the faintest hint of a mischievous smile ghosted his lips.
"Thank you." She whispered, bringing the glass to her lips.
He watched her nose wrinkle at the taste and he laughed. She clearly wasn't used to it; he knew firsthand that she was used to Whiskey and that was a curious thing. Whiskey often tasted far worse than wine, though he supposed it depended who you asked. He couldn't recall the last time he'd had either before tonight.
"You deserve a moment of reprieve." He replied. He sounded sincere.
The two of them fell into a sort of comfortable silence after that, neither of them really knowing what to say nor feeling the pressure to figure it out either. He knew that moments like this would be fleeting and there was a strong chance that they'd never have another but he didn't voice it; it was the first time that he'd spent any time with Natalia Romanova outside of the walls of the institution but he had to admit, for a first time? He hoped that he'd made it count; he hoped that he'd proved to her that there was indeed something human inside of him.
Just like she'd said.
"We should go back inside." He murmured as they finished the last of the bottle.
She smiled, pushing away from the table as she meandered inside and attempted to stretch her hand back far enough to undo the zipper on her dress, she cast a look backward.
"Help me?" She looked so young and innocent as she spoke.
He followed suit and moved inside as he observed her, the soft tone of her voice reaching his ears and he nodded his head as he moved toward her; his towering frame stood at her back as slid the zipper down without effort exposing the bare skin of her back and he closed his eyes, releasing a sigh as he turned and made his way toward the couch. He was determined that this wasn't going to get any more complicated than it already was. He had enough to try to come up with a cover story for already.
She chewed her lip as she felt his knuckles brush against her skin and as he turned to walk away, she released a gentle sigh. She stepped out of the fabric and made her way toward the suitcases on the floor, reaching inside for an oversized tee as she pulled it over her head, she made her way toward the couch in time to see him sliding his jeans off after discarding the rest of the heavy clothing that he was wearing and she reached out to take his hand, pulling him toward the bed. He remained unmoving, adamant on his decision. This was not allowed to get anymore complex than it already had. She let out a small laugh and shook her head.
"Trust me." She spoke so softly that it was barely a whisper.
Rolling his eyes with a sigh, he allowed her to pull him over before she climbed atop the covers and patted the space next to him. He moved, sitting down with his legs kicked up but still sitting regardless; she gave his shoulder a light push and he fell backward. She yawned softly as she moved to lay down with her head against his chest.
"Sleep." She murmured gently as she closed her eyes.
For the first time in what felt like forever, he found peace with her warm body curled up against his.
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He knew today they needed to finish this; he knew that today they had to end what they'd came here to do and they had to get back. He couldn't convince them for two days in a row that it was too risky to take his shot when it was easy for him. He was the best they had, after all. The Winter Soldier did not fail. He never had. He watched their target through the scope of his rifle and he watched the man put his hands on Natalia's hips; he fought to keep his finger off of the trigger. She needed him to tell her what he knew first and that was more important than his unwarranted jealousy. She did not belong to him nor he to her.
Even if it felt like that was the most untrue thing his mind could have thrown at him.
It took her only an hour and she had him singing like a canary; he told her everything for the sake of showing off and making out like he was far more fearsome than she was; he must have thought that it would turn her on and that provoked a soft growl of anger from the soldier, watching her nod at him to tell him to take the shot a wicked grin spread across his features; she moved out of the path of blood spatter and she heard the bullet crack through the window before it even made its way through the mans head, sending his body cascading to the floor. She moved toward the wall, digging out the bullet before she headed toward the door of his penthouse to meet her waiting extraction.
He was proud of His Little Spider; she'd done so very well today.
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He did the same as last night only tonight, he told her where he was going and he came back with another bottle of terrible tasting wine; he found her sat out on the balcony again looking up at the sky. She'd already told him she was disappointed that she couldn't see the stars here and he'd made her a promise: Before they drove to meet their extraction and their handlers tomorrow, he'd ride out tonight beyond the city so that she could see the stars.
Even after all these years and even if he didn't know it, Bucky Barnes was a sucker for a redhead.