Author Notes: Thanks so much to all of my betas, especially stressedspidergirl and JustLikeLuna, especially for your thoughts on the last scene. And thanks to all of you for following along, and for your wonderful reviews :)

1.

Natasha glanced at Bucky's cell on the monitor, as she and Bruce waited for the safehouse agent to finish security proceedings - namely, sedating Bucky briefly so that he couldn't escape once his door was opened.

It wasn't so bad. It was small, but he'd earned a few furnishings again. Apparently they'd been taken from him after too many attempts to use furniture - or pieces of furniture - as weapons or break-out tools.

He also had a stack of books a mile high. A guitar, too. That was interesting.

He seemed to be getting better, for a given value of "better." Not doing as well as Steve, who seemed a lot more peaceful and was still in a low-key relationship with Lee despite the rocky start, of being exposed in the press as "Captain America's Brand New Love!" Bucky was still surly and hostile these days, but not uncontrollably violent quite so much. Progress, of a sort.

The agent in charge nodded and opened the door, and she and Bruce entered. They approached the couch where Bucky had sat down to await sedation and sat on the nearest chairs to wait for Bucky to wake up.

Five minutes later, he was shaking his head and blinking, his systems back to normal. He gave them a look of barely suppressed suspicion and cautious pleasure, as he focused on them.

"You're back," he said by way of greeting.

"We're back," Bruce agreed pleasantly.

"Why?"

"We've brokered a deal," said Natasha. "Sort of."

"What kind of deal?"

"We've spent the last several months dealing with the government, talking to them about your case."

"To stop them from having me executed?"

"Or imprisoned permanently in a federal containment unit," she said. "Some of it has to do with your past activities. Some of it has to do with today." She looked around. "You didn't make it easy. We have the reports of how you acted the first little while after Steve left."

"Shared that with the government, huh?" asked Bucky, a grim smirk playing on his lips. "What did they think?"

"Nothing," said Bruce. "Because we didn't share it."

Bucky's eyebrows went up.

"We didn't see any point to it. We couldn't lie, but we didn't have to give any details."

Bucky nodded cautiously.

Natasha sat back. "What happened? Did you need to have an extended tantrum when Steve left?"

Bucky quirked his lips slightly. "Something like that, I guess."

"And you're done now?"

"Yeah."

"You sure?" asked Bruce.

"Why?" Bucky glared at them both. "I mean, what does it matter? I'm never getting outta here anyway. Whether I'm in some government prison or here, it's all the same."

"We were talking about getting you out altogether."

Bucky narrowed his eyes. "That's impossible."

Natasha shrugged. "So you had a relapse under stress. It doesn't mean you can't get back on the straight and narrow. You've been doing it on your own, without even having Steve here to behave for."

Bucky gave her a slightly disbelieving look. "What if I have another relapse?"

"We're betting that won't happen once you have some freedom," said Bruce. "And support outside."

"And if it does, you'd be fitted with surveillance and a way to make sure you can be sedated," Natasha put in. "Or terminated, if necessary."

His eyebrows shot up again. "'Terminated.' Bet they don't call it that."

"They don't - they call it 'permanently contained.' I don't see any point in treating you with kid gloves. I prefer honesty."

"You're a bit of a bitch," he said, with a muted version of the grin she'd seen in history books; the one that had made him such a legendary ladies' man.

"Thank you," she said, smiling back.

"So what's this deal you've brokered?"

"It's going to take a while," said Bruce. "You'll have to show you can keep up good behavior for a few months. And it won't be freedom. You'll still be watched, you'll still be monitored, you'll still have somebody responsible for you. You won't know who it is, either. There are a few individuals like you, being monitored through cooperation between SHIELD and the government."

Natasha smiled at him. "You'd be part of an elite set. So deep nobody knows about it except those who are being monitored."

Bucky snorted. "Elite, huh?"

"I'll help," said Bruce. "I told you before, I've got a lot of experience dealing with a monster inside. I was planning on coming more often before you..." he paused, looking for a sensitive way to describe Bucky's behavior.

"Went off the deep end after sending Steve packing?" Bucky finished for him wryly. "You sure? You're not worried that I'll trigger you again?"

Bruce shook his head. "If I was worried about that, I wouldn't have advocated that you be let out," he pointed out.

He gazed at them seriously. "I... I don't know that you're right to trust me."

Natasha leaned forward again. "We don't, not fully." Bucky relaxed slightly, and she remembered that feeling - remembered how it felt to know that you were somehow safer around people who knew you weren't to be trusted. "Look at who you're talking to. We know what it's like to be dangerous. But other people helped us in spite of that. We're offering to do the same with you."

"Why? Especially after the last few months?"

"You had a relapse after you kicked Steve out. But the fact is, you did kick him out. You could've kept him here forever."

Bucky grimaced. "So that's all it took to win you over?"

Natasha winced. OK, she probably deserved that one. "It wasn't a minor thing," she said. "And I know how much it cost you."

Bucky looked down at the floor for a long time. "Yeah."

Bruce cleared his throat. "Do you want to work with us, to get out?"

Bucky took a deep breath, then nodded.

Natasha paused for a moment. She'd debated this with herself. It might not be the smartest thing in the world to encourage him, she knew that, but... maybe it was the human thing. "Do you want to know how Steve's doing?" she asked.

Bucky flinched, and Bruce turned to look at her, an unreadable look on his face. "It's probably better that I don't. Attachment isn't healthy. He's got his life to live and I've got mine."

"If you say so." She took out her printouts and handed them to him. "Let's go over the details of this life, then, shall we?"

2.

Natasha leaned her head back on the seat and stretched, glancing out the window. They were flying over the ocean, a dark mass under them. She had a vague sense of deja vu, to a night not that long ago when she and Steve had been flying over a dark ocean, with the STRIKE team surrounding them, and she'd been trying to set Steve up for a date.

It felt like a lifetime ago.

This was better. Tony's plane was somewhat more comfortable, and the STRIKE team had been replaced by Clint, Sam and a few techs - most of whom were dozing after a hard battle with HYDRA, except for one who was absorbed in a video game.

She looked over at Steve, leaning against the window and looking a little sleepy himself, the shield at his feet.

"How's your shoulder?" she asked.

He blinked and cautiously moved it. "Mostly healed. How's your elbow?"

She grimaced. "That'll take a little longer."

Steve's phone buzzed and he yawned and took a look at it, smiling slightly. He quickly texted something back and leaned back, gazing out at the window again.

"Lee?" Natasha guessed.

"Yeah," said Steve. "Checking that I'm OK."

"Did the battle make it onto the news?"

"Yeah, a small mention, apparently. He's got an alert on Avengers bits." He yawned again. "Told him we were done and everyone was OK."

"Are you meeting him tonight?"

"No, he's in Colorado with his folks."

Natasha nodded. "Have you met them?"

Steve blinked. "It's... a little early for that, I think." He grimaced. "Though they've seen me in the news."

"How are they? Are they OK with their son dating a celebrity?"

Steve shrugged. "Not sure. I think his mom was a little confused by the article in The Advocate, but then again, so was I."

Natasha chuckled. Steve had agreed to talk to a young man doing a project, for a college course on gay history, and the kid had been encouraged to submit his story to The Advocate by his professor. Steve, amused, had given his permission - and then watched in bewilderment as the interview piece had gone viral.

"His mom didn't like the publicity?"

"She wasn't sure about it." He shrugged. "They're elderly."

"They're probably a lot younger than you are," Natasha pointed out. She wondered how some of the more meme-worthy quotes from the article had gone over with them.

Beside them, Sam snored lightly. Clint, stirring from his light doze, nudged Sam and then blinked open his eyes. He yawned and went to rub them, wincing as he touched his impressive shiner, courtesy of a HYDRA agent who'd used some sort of eye-targeting weapon. Clint had been lucky he'd been able to (barely) avoid serious injury and keep his nickname.

"God damn HYDRA psychos," he muttered, and closed his eyes again, sinking back into sleep.

"I wonder if the people we fight ever worked with Bucky, every time we raid a scientific base," Steve said softly. He still said the name carefully, like a wound that wasn't quite healed, but was on the way to it.

"I always wonder how many of them are former SHIELD," said Natasha.

Steve nodded. "That too." He looked out the window. "We worked with so many of the guys who knew about Bucky. They knew. If I had them in front of me I'd-" he broke off. "It's not great, knowing you'd be happy to murder someone in cold blood."

"You've never liked bullies. That's what they are."

"It wouldn't be for justice or to protect others from them, though. It would just be revenge." He looked down at his shield. "I felt the same way during the War, too, whenever we took down HYDRA bases. Wondering if these were people who'd experimented on him."

"How bad was it? What happened the first time HYDRA had him?"

"I never knew. When I found him I could tell he'd been roughed up pretty bad - he was strapped to a table and babbling - but we never got the records from that place because it blew up. He had nightmares about it sometimes, but he never talked to anyone about what happened. Not even me."

"What a surprise," said Natasha dryly. "He sounds like a male born in the previous century."

Steve chuckled, then checked his phone as it buzzed again. "Lee says goodnight," he said.

"How does Lee feel about your job?"

"He's a veteran," said Steve. "He knows the risks."

"I thought Sam met him through the VA."

"Yeah."

"You still being in combat doesn't bother him?"

Steve gave her a slight smile. "It's... a work in progress. He's got... issues too. We don't fight over it, but it's not easy for him."

Natasha nodded. He sounded guardedly happy about the relationship. And this was more than she'd heard him say about Lee since they'd started dating.

"Sounds serious," she said cautiously.

Steve tilted his head to the side. "I don't know. It could be." He chuckled tiredly. "Could be we'll break up next week. Who knows. I don't have the best record in the world."

"Would you be OK with that?"

"Yeah, I think so. It's strange, I never knew just how devastating break-ups were before - well, before last year. I mean, I wasn't happy either before, when I'd send Bucky away, but at least it was my choice." He shook his head. "I put him through so much. I thought it was the right thing, at the time, but... damn, he went through so much for me." He smiled sadly.

"Sam said you're still seeing a therapist."

"That's gonna go on for a while, I think," said Steve. "He's a nice guy. It's easier than I thought it would be, explaining stuff to him."

"Good."

Steve hesitated. "I finally talked to him about... about Bucky." He paused. "About what happened right before I went to live with him."

He still couldn't say the word, though, thought Natasha. Or maybe he could; just not to her. "What did he say?"

"He doesn't really say much," said Steve. "For all I know he may think I'm a lunatic for going to live with him after that. I don't know."

"What did you think?"

"It made a lot of stuff clearer."

"Like what?"

"Made me feel better about being angry at him," he said quietly. "For what he did and for sending me away." He looked down. "And for... for being so different from who he was before. It wasn't fair, but I almost hated him, for a while. Wished I'd never met him."

Natasha nodded. "Not surprising."

"Loving him was the one constant I had," Steve said. "I didn't really question it. And then when he was so different, I couldn't handle it. I thought I could, but it just ate away at me."

"Loyalty isn't a bad thing, you know," Natasha pointed out.

"No, but... when it backfires on you..." Steve trailed off. "I even... part of me wished he'd died in the War," he admitted, his voice low. "When he was still who he used to be."

"You know he's probably wished that too," Natasha said gently. "Probably more than you have."

"I don't any more." He sighed. "It also made me wish I could've been able to do more for him, though. Somehow managed to stay in contact with him, without making him feel guilty, without letting him manipulate me."

"You helped him, you know. You treated him like a person, not a weapon. He needed that."

"I treated him like he was still Bucky. He's not."

"No, but part of him still is. You helped him see that not all of him died on that mountain."

"I probably made him feel like he had to be the Bucky of before, as much as possible. To be able to manipulate me, if nothing else." Steve met her eyes. "And I obviously didn't help him enough. We worked out a deal for him, but he's still not free."

"He will be," said Natasha.

"Yeah, who knows when, though," he said glumly, staring back out the window. "For all I know, it could be years."

"When he does get out, would you want to see him?"

Steve hesitated. "I... I don't know."

"Really?"

"I love him. That's never gonna change." He sighed. "But... but I don't want to do anything to make things harder for him."

"What about harder for yourself?"

"That too." He cleared his throat. "And it wouldn't exactly be fair to Lee, either."

Natasha nodded, reflecting that Steve had literally never been in a relationship that wasn't painful, and filled with guilt and fear. This thing with Lee must be throwing him for a loop, all 'issues' with the dangers of his day job aside.

"It's not a crime to not want to get hurt again," she said quietly. "You know that, right?"

Steve nodded. "I know."

And he did seem to know that. Maybe therapy and time away was helping. Maybe even if he did see Bucky again, he might actually be able to be around him without automatically going into self-sacrificing idiot mode.

"There's no guarantee he'd want to see me anyway," Steve pointed out.

"Do you want me to let you know if he does, when the time comes?" asked Natasha.

Steve regarded her seriously. "Would you?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

He tilted his head to the side, considering seriously and then choosing his words carefully. "You seem to think you know what I need more than I do."

"I know." She looked back at him, unsure how to proceed. "Maybe... maybe I'd like to change that."

His lips quirked. "Is that because you think you were wrong, or because you think I can make better decisions now?"

She thought it over. "Can it be both?"

Steve's eyebrows went up, then he gazed at her thoughtfully for a few moments before giving her a small smile. "I can live with that."

3.

It didn't take nearly as long as she'd assumed it would, Natasha thought four months later, as she waited for Bucky to wake up from sedation. He'd been kept sedated during transportation from his cell - not because anybody thought he'd attack his jailers, but because he couldn't know where his last safehouse was.

She smiled down at him as he woke up.

"You ready?"

"Ready," he said, looking nervous.

He looked ready. She'd taken the time to get to know him better in the last four months. He hadn't had a single incident, though there had been a few close calls. Knowing he was getting out seemed to make all the difference.

Not that everything was peachy. For the foreseeable future, he would still be essentially incarcerated at the end of every day. He would still be monitored while he was out, was still fitted with an anklet that would sedate him at a moment's notice. He couldn't even be told who had him under surveillance.

But he wasn't physically in a cell 24/7. He wasn't being held responsible for his supposed crimes. There was even talk of allowing him to work with whatever SHIELD was these days, if he wanted to, though Steve's attitude toward that was still an adamant Hell No. Except for a few holdouts, nobody was really concerned about his loyalties; only his self-control, and his vulnerability should HYDRA choose to try to use him again.

It wasn't ideal. Nothing was. But it was a hell of a lot better than many of the scenarios they'd considered since he'd first been identified as Bucky Barnes and the Winter Soldier.

"All right. Where do you want to go?" she asked him as soon as they were alone.

"I don't know. I can go anywhere?"

"Anywhere you want," said Natasha. "I picked the city, but you pick the destination."

They got onto the train and Natasha smiled at Bucky's barely-concealed look of satisfaction. They both knew that unseen monitors were doing their job, but Bucky didn't seem to care.

She remembered her own freedom from SHIELD's headquarters after SHIELD had decided to trust her, months after she'd let Clint bring her in. Knowing that there were probably agents around watching her every move and being unable to give a damn, as she felt the sunshine on her face and the wind in her hair. All the little things that you take for granted when you're able to enjoy them all the time.

He must have been such a force of nature as a kid and young man, she thought, as he gazed in barely-concealed wonder at all the sights and sounds of freedom, and of Washington on a beautiful July day.

She could see why Steve had fallen for him, and fallen so hard. The fear and pain of all those years of torture and abuse had left their indelible mark on him, but she could see glimpses of the bright, passionate man Steve had known.

They visited the White House, the Washington Monument, the World War II Memorial. All places that Bucky told her he'd never been to - at least, he had no memory of any of them. He'd gotten back a lot of his memories of assignments around the world, but somehow he'd apparently never been sent to Washington except for the attempt on Fury. He'd never seen most of the symbols of the country he'd been brainwashed into hating.

They walked down the Vietnam Memorial, Bucky's hand running along the rows and rows of names, of young men who went off to war and never came back. He looked at the cards and flowers that people still left here for their lost boys, and Natasha wondered if he was thinking of Steve visiting his own grave just across the Potomac at Arlington, a twenty-minute walk away. It now had security cameras posted around it to prevent people from vandalizing it, after being connected to a man that some people were still calling a terrorist and war criminal. His expression was thoughtful, but not brooding, and when they emerged on the other side of the Vietnam Memorial, he set off for the Lincoln Memorial.

Steve would love to see this, though Natasha. See Bucky calm and centered, no longer the resentful, dangerous tiger in a cage. Not that she for one moment doubted just how dangerous he could be, but the difference was night and day. No tension under the surface, as his conditioning clawed at him to get out, get out, get out, by any means necessary.

It still told him to look for exits, weaknesses, opportunities. It probably always would - Natasha's certainly did. But that was manageable.

They ate hot dogs at a park and she gave him her Starkpad to browse through. He typed away at it, eyebrows rising at some of the weirder stories in the news.

"All right," she said as they threw out the trash from their lunch. "We've got another two hours before you're due at the base where you'll be staying."

"What are we going to do?"

"There's something I want to ask you."

"What?"

"You know, you can choose Washington as your home base," she told him. "You can live here."

Bucky blinked. "I thought that had been decided. I thought that's why we were getting to know the city, because I was assigned here."

"No, I decided where you went the first day. You don't have to live here. You haven't been assigned anything; you can choose another base."

"Why would I?"

"Because Steve lives here."

Bucky's eyes widened. "He's in Washington again?"

"Yes."

"I thought he'd be in New York."

"No. He thought about it, but it's too different from how he remembers it. I think he's also not that enthused about living in Avengers Tower and he didn't want to hurt Tony's feelings by moving somewhere else in the city. He moved back here last month."

He swallowed. "How's he doing?"

She took her Starkpad from him and opened up a folder of bookmarks, filled with recent news items about Steve. He hesitated, then slowly took it from her grasp and started to scan through, and his eyes flicked quickly back and forth, taking in the information.

She glanced around the park as Bucky read, thinking about Steve. About how much better Steve was doing now than at any point since she'd met him. How much more peaceful he seemed, doing work that he seemed to believe in, as adjusted to this century as he could be, living his life free of guilt and fear and overwhelming grief...

It was possible that what she was about to do could be the worst possible thing for him. But it was also possible that she needed to have a little faith in him.

"He looks happy," said Bucky, his voice small.

"He is. He's doing well."

"Can't believe he came out and it's... it's fine," Bucky mused. "A few nutjobs ranting and a few people saying they're tired of hearing about celebrities' personal lives, and everyone else just..." he shook his head.

Natasha glanced at the screen, recognizing the photo that had accompanied the article in The Advocate. He looked thoughtful, as if he was thinking about his answer to the interview question below the photo.

What would you say to him, if you could talk to him now?

I'd tell him I'm sorry I sent him away all those times. I'd tell him I'm sorry I didn't give us a chance, and didn't try to make it work back then.

"Is he." Bucky swallowed. "Is he seeing anyone?"

Natasha shook her head. "Not any more. He was going out with a really nice guy for a couple of months, but they cooled off about a month ago - I think it was just too tough on Lee to deal with Steve's job. They're still friends, though."

Bucky swallowed again. "That's... that's good. He needs friends." He gazed at the screen. "I did the right thing, didn't I? Sending him away?"

Natasha nodded. "He needed to deal with what had happened." Bucky shivered. "Not just with you. With everything since the War. He hadn't done a very good job of it on his own."

Bucky nodded.

"It wasn't easy," said Natasha. "He was pretty messed up."

"I know."

"It wasn't all your fault. I don't even think it was all from being thrown into the future. Nobody who volunteers for the kind of procedure he did is entirely well."

Bucky's lip twitched. "He's always been a maladjusted punk." He gazed at Steve's picture, and Natasha could sense the longing in him. It was an almost physical ache.

"He's better now," said Natasha. "Goes to all of his appointments with his shrink. Doesn't destroy too many punching bags. He was a little disappointed about things ending with Lee, but he's doing OK."

Bucky nodded. "Good. Steve... he deserves that." He swallowed. "Good for him. I'm happy for him." He took a deep breath and gathered himself. "OK. Let's go."

Natasha stayed where she was. "Where?"

"I'd like to check into the base, go over protocols. Maybe look at where else I can go."

"You're not going to say hi?"

Bucky hesitated. "Nat. I can't. I'm - I'm happy for him, OK? And maybe someday I can - you know, someday we can be pals again. Right now it's, uh, it's..." he trailed off.

Natasha waited a long moment. "Bucky Barnes, you're not a coward."

Bucky's eyebrows shot up.

"Say hello."

"He's doing well. I don't want to-"

"Bucky." Natasha took a deep breath. "Listen to me. He's doing well. He's stable. And you're doing better too. You can go and talk to him without both of you falling apart."

"What if-" he stopped, swallowed hard. For a master assassin and spy, he was remarkably awkward and tongue-tied. He sounded about fifteen years old.

"What if what?" asked Natasha patiently.

"What if I can't just say hi? What if he wants - what if I say-"

"What if you want to pick up where you left off?"

Bucky nodded miserably.

"Are you aware that you're giving an excellent impression of the meaning of the word 'emo'?"

Bucky scowled at her and she suddenly had a vivid image of Steve's face when she'd told him Bucky was being released. He'd paused for a long time, then said, "Yeah. I want to see him."

"Are you sure?" she'd asked him.

"No. I thought about it for a long time, though." He'd looked at her. "What do you think?"

"I think you might get hurt again," she'd said. "But it's not my call to make."

"Neither one of you is particularly fragile," she said to Bucky now. "Whatever happens, happens. I think you can handle it, but nobody's going to force you."

Bucky bowed his head and stared down at his hands for a long time. "Where is he?" he finally asked.

Natasha nodded at the building next to them.

"What?" Bucky's eyes widened. "Here? You just... brought me to the park next to his building?"

She pulled her phone out and raised her eyebrows. Bucky took a deep breath, then nodded quickly.

She called Steve. "I've got someone who wants to say hi," she said without preamble once he picked up. "Do still you want to?"

There was an almost audible gulp on the line. "OK. Uh. OK." There was a short pause. "At the cafe?"

"Back booth," she said, and headed for the near-empty cafe next to the park, Bucky following bemused in her wake. They ordered coffees, sitting in silence for a few minutes, Bucky's cup sitting ignored as he watched the door.

She felt him draw in his breath next to her as Steve appeared at the door and his gaze focused immediately on the back booth. They stared at each other, Steve's eyes widening slightly as he took in Bucky's short hair, his clear eyes and hesitant expression.

"Bucky," he breathed.

He quickly made his way to the back booth, Bucky stood - and both stayed frozen in place for a moment, uncertainty and nervousness thick between them, Natasha utterly forgotten. Then Steve broke the tableau, stepping forward and reaching out for Bucky. Bucky pulled him close, his eyes closing as they came together, and held each other tight for a long, long moment.

"God, it's good to see you," Steve said, his voice only slightly unsteady, as they finally broke apart.

"You too," said Bucky.

They sat and Steve ordered a coffee. Natasha glanced around, briefly wondering what the handful of other patrons would think if any of them learned that the two young men with her, hesitantly picking up a conversation, were trying to work their way back to trust after more strain than any friendship should be asked to bear. That they were lovers of eighty years, in the bodies of men in their twenties.

They chatted inconsequentially for a while, talking about what Bucky had seen today, and then Natasha checked the time.

"Well, we've got about an hour and a half before you need to check in," she said to Bucky, abruptly standing up. "I've got some stuff I need to look over. I'll be over there if you need me," she gestured to one of the other tables, turning on her Starkpad.

Bucky and Steve turned identical looks of surprise at her.

"Uh... what?" said Steve.

"Aren't you supposed to be monitoring me?" asked Bucky.

"I don't have to sit with you and listen in on every word to do that," Natasha pointed out. "There's somebody keeping track of you at the base anyway. Have some time to yourselves." She moved to the front booth.

"That... was unexpected," Steve's voice said over her earpiece, to Bucky's answering chuckle, and Natasha smiled. She hesitated a moment, then turned the earpiece off.

She logged into her Avengers account to look over their next HYDRA offensive, and found a fairly new text from Clint.

hows our favorite assassin?

Fine, she texted back. Talking to Steve.

what about?

I don't know. I've turned off my surveillance.

really?

They're both grownups. And acting like it.

u never bothered to wait for me to act like a grownup before treating me like one

I don't have that kind of time on my hands.

harsh

She looked over at Steve and Bucky, who were now looking somewhat more relaxed, then looked back down and started in on the HYDRA notes.

A while later, Natasha looked up and turned on her earpiece monitor. Steve was leaning back a bit, stirring his coffee. "No, you'd like him," he was saying. "He's a bit like Joey Griffson, remember him?"

"Kid who ended up running the corner store when his old man got blitzed?"

"Him, yeah," Steve's face lit up at Bucky's easy memory retrieval. "He was in Afghanistan. Messed him up a bit."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. He lost someone. And I think it was a little too much for him, every time I went off. We decided to cool it before things got too serious. Well... he did."

Bucky nodded. "Did... did you sleep with him?"

Steve didn't glance in Natasha's direction, but she could see his fair skin coloring up slightly. He nodded.

"I'm not your 'one and only' any more, then," Bucky said softly.

There was a short silence. "I was never your one and only, Buck," Steve pointed out gently.

Bucky nodded and seemed to be trying to find some way out of the topic. "It kinda threw me, reading the stuff after those pictures of you and him - I knew things had changed but can you imagine anyone just shrugging it off like that in our day?"

Steve shook his head. "It's still a little weird, to be honest. Part of me still expects somebody out there to say I need to give back the uniform and shield." He chuckled. "Somebody who matters, I mean."

"Instead the Army Chief of Staff said guys like us were heroes for serving our country even though we were risking a blue ticket, and gave you a public apology," Bucky said, his voice slightly disbelieving. "Some guy said it was all the proof anyone needed that Don't Ask, Don't Tell was a 'travesty' - can you imagine how fucking ecstatic we would've been if we'd had Don't Ask Don't Tell in our time?"

Steve chuckled. "That's what I kept thinking while I was reading that article, actually. Natasha sent me the link. She sends me links about everything. She says I need to keep informed about my public image, but I think she just likes embarrassing me."

Bucky shook his head. "I can't believe you told that kid about the time I snuck into your quarters through the dumbwaiter in Lyon."

Steve blushed, more deeply this time. "You know that was just supposed to be for a college project. It was historical research."

"Got bigger than you thought, didn't it?" Bucky said, amused.

"The kid who interviewed me just got offered an internship at The Advocate."

"Good for him."

"I got a lot of mail. Some of it was, uh, unexpected."

Bucky frowned. "Bad?"

"No, good. A little, uh, too good."

Bucky got it, and laughed out loud. "Come on. I remember some of what you got in the War from girls. Just because it's guys now-"

"Actually a lot of it's still from girls," Steve said sheepishly.

"Really?"

"They, uh... Tony had said we had fangirls? They're, wow. Some of what they wrote about, I had to look up."

Bucky threw back his head and laughed, and Natasha looked away again, switching her earpiece off.

She glanced around the cafe briefly. It was still fairly empty, barely more than a handful of other patrons, mostly focused on their coffees and devices, though one man had a newspaper and one teenage couple seemed to be making eye contact despite the phones in their hands. Probably on a first date, then. As she watched, the girl flicked a glance over the other customers and paused on Steve for a moment, her brow furrowing slightly in puzzlement before returning to the boy in front of her.

Natasha looked down, scanning past a list of HYDRA scientists who had been connected with the biological weapons research lab in Hoboken, which the Avengers were going to target next. Tony was in charge of getting through the lab's defenses, but if she could track down some of their personal connections, she might be able to get them in through a back door...

About twenty minutes later, she looked up and switched on her earpiece again.

"They never did find out," Steve was saying. "It wouldn't have helped anything; just put a lot of people in an awkward position. Probably made them look bad, when they were just doing what they thought was right."

"Thanks," said Bucky, and she had no idea what it was about. She could probably look it up in a transcript somewhere. She probably wouldn't.

She switched the sound back off and glanced around the cafe. The man with the newspaper was gone; a couple of mothers with small babies had come in, and the teenage couple had finished a piece of pie between them and were gazing at each other besottedly. Ah, young love.

Natasha looked back down and continued reading and making notes, following one particular scientist who apparently had a bit of a drinking problem - excellent, they might be able to use that - until it was almost time for her to take Bucky back to his base.

"...can't be seen in public with me," Bucky was saying. "I don't know what Natasha was thinking."

"Why not?"

Bucky snorted. "Steve, don't be naive. You think there wouldn't be speculation all over the internet if you were seen with me? For all we know, right now somebody in this cafe could be taking a selfie with us in it and uploading it-"

There was a small pause. "Buck. If you're gonna want me to hide anything, then maybe you shouldn't move to Washington."

Bucky paused. "What?"

Steve hesitated, and Natasha could feel him choosing his words. "Buck, if we did spend time together..." He trailed off and Natasha glanced over at him. He looked nervous but determined. "Whatever happened, I wouldn't want it to happen if we had to hide."

"Seriously? I'm a known terrorist and serial killer. I'm-"

"You're allowed out. You're allowed to have a life and friends and-"

"With this thing on me," Bucky said impatiently, gesturing to his anklet. "Reporting in, every day. Maybe for the rest of my life."

Steve nodded. "I know. And I don't care. I won't hide. If we're together, as friends or anything else, I'm not gonna hide."

"What do you mean, as anything else?" There was a charged silence. "You... you still feel the same way?" Bucky said slowly.

Steve shook his head fondly. "Christ, Buck."

Bucky ducked his head. "Thought maybe you'd change your mind."

"Nope." Steve cleared his throat. "You?"

Bucky shook his head. "Nope." He swallowed. "I thought you only felt that way because of who I was before. I thought after you got away from me..."

"That was true at first," Steve admitted. "I kept looking at you and seeing the parts of who you were, and sort of hung on to them." He paused. "And that wasn't fair to you. But I had a lot of time to think about it after leaving. And... who you are today..." He leaned forward. "You fought so damn hard against everything that was done to you. You tried so hard to get better in spite of everything. Just because you aren't the same as before doesn't mean that I feel any differently."

Natasha looked down, suddenly uncomfortable. This wasn't really meant for her to see or hear. But it was almost time for her to take Bucky back, and she didn't want to barge in on the middle of something that sounded delicate...

"And... I don't need you, Bucky," Steve said gently. "I won't die without you." He paused. "I'd rather be with you, though."

There was a long silence.

"But only out in the open," Bucky confirmed.

"I won't hide and sneak around for anybody. Not even for you."

"What if I said no?"

"It would hurt. I don't want you to. But it's your choice. I won't spend the rest of my life alone and mourning you. You didn't, all those times we were apart before the War."

Bucky snorted. "You don't think the dozens of dames I slept with back then was enough to show me that I didn't want anybody else?"

"Mighta been 'cause they were girls," Steve pointed out.

"You spent most of our time pushing me at dames before; if you're gonna start pushing me at fellas it's gonna be hard to not to feel like you're pushing me away on purpose-"

Steve chuckled. "Buck. I don't want you to. I'm giving you the option and hoping like hell that you don't take it."

"Really?"

"I can be happy without you," said Steve. "I don't need you." He paused. "I still want you, though," he said softly. "All the mess and all the trouble that'll come if anyone sees me with you, all the scandal of me going out with a serial killer, the fact that you have to be monitored - it doesn't matter to me."

"Still?" Bucky sounded skeptical.

"You sent me away because you thought I was too wrapped up in you, right? And you were probably right. It was hard." He paused. "I went... pretty low for a while. But I got back up."

"I'm not-"

"You're not who you were, and I know that." He took a deep breath. "And if we were together again, no amount of Captain America glamor would make it OK to a lot of people. It might get nasty. But it was nastier having people find out in our day, right? And we lived through it, and it wasn't so bad."

"You're a punk," said Bucky hollowly. "You could have a normal life, Steve. With someone like Lee. Someone who - I mean, you're never gonna have a wedding and a white picket fence and kids. Not with me."

"Who says I want any of that?" said Steve patiently. Natasha looked up. He was leaning forward, gazing at Bucky earnestly. "Even when I had nothing, I had you. Right? I'd be OK with having nothing again. We've both been there. It's better to have nothing together." He tilted his head to the side. "Buck. Don't choose for me."

There was a long pause before Bucky nodded cautiously. "If we did..." he said slowly. "If we did, we can't just jump back to what we were."

"No. We're different people," Steve agreed. "But we've got time to figure it out."

"A lot of time," said Bucky. "You and me don't seem to age."

"I don't want to waste time that we could have together," said Steve, and hesitantly reached out to take Bucky's hand in his. "But... I'd wanna go slow."

"Slow?" said Bucky, brow furrowed slightly.

"Like, dating."

Bucky shook his head, bemused. "You and me never really did that."

"No." Steve gave him a small smile. "I'd never done it at all, before Lee."

Bucky nodded.

"I'm talking glacial-slow, Buck," said Steve ruefully. "It's... taken me a while to get my head on straight after everything."

"And out in the open."

"Has to be," said Steve.

"I don't know if I can do that."

Steve shook his head. "That's not negotiable. I'm sorry."

Bucky swallowed, then was silent for a long moment. "OK."

There was a long silence as they both looked down at their clasped hands, and then Steve rubbed the top of Bucky's hand with his thumb and cleared his throat.

"So... you wanna start?" he asked Bucky with a small smile.

"What, and give Natasha a heart attack?" asked Bucky with a grin. He flicked his gaze over to Natasha, who rolled her eyes and pointedly looked down at her pad.

"She'll be fine," said Steve, and there was silence over the monitor. Natasha finished saving her notations and looked up to see Steve and Bucky exchanging a kiss. The kiss was gentle and hesitant, but from all the way at the other end of the cafe Natasha could almost feel the wonder and relief in both of them, in the way Bucky's hand came to Steve's hair and paused before he tangled his fingers in the blond strands, in the way that Steve stroked the line of Bucky's jaw and then cupped Bucky's cheek in his palm.

How exactly this qualified as slow, she wasn't sure, but maybe Steve just meant that they wouldn't have sex in the booth of the cafe. She glanced around the cafe. Nobody else seemed to have noticed, but the pair of teenagers were gaping at them in shock, and the girl slowly raised her phone to take a picture before the boy quickly grabbed it. He shook his head and whispered something to her, and she smiled slightly, then nodded and put the phone down. Glancing at Steve and Bucky again, they turned back to one another, a small smile playing on the girl's lips.

Then Steve made a small sound in his throat and Bucky backed off, startled, eyes wide. "Sorry! Sorry, I-"

"No," Steve huffed a small laugh, putting a hand on Bucky's shoulder. He pulled Bucky close again, rested his forehead against Bucky's and took a deep, shaking breath. "It's - you didn't do anything wrong." He took another breath. "Just wanna go slow, OK? And that's not slow."

"I'm just following your lead," said Bucky.

"Don't," said Steve wryly. "I'm an idiot." He gazed at Bucky seriously. "And I... I really, really don't wanna fuck this up."

All right, it was time to go. She stood and walked up to them, and cleared her throat. They slowly turned to look at her - both of them, she noted with amusement, still looking slightly dazed.

"Come on," she said to Bucky. "It's time to go back to the base." She turned to Steve. "Are you coming with us? To help him get settled in?"

Steve looked at Bucky. "Do you want me to?"

Bucky thought for a minute, then gave Steve a grin and took his hand. He stood up. "Let's go home."

Author Notes: So, that's the end of it. There's still three one-shot extras to post, set during chapters 9-10, but for now, the story's done.

Yes, it's deliberately vague at the end. My die-hard-shipper heart wants to believe that after a lot work, possibly involving couple's therapy, they figure themselves out and end up together, because they deserve their happily-ever-after. My realist side knows there's about a thousand things that could go wrong... but hopes that if they didn't manage to make things work together, they would both still be able to go on with their lives instead of ending up shattered.

I'm sticking with the shipper side, personally. You can pick whichever side you'd like :)