A/N: I apologize for posting this so late today! I tried to get it in sooner, but it wasn't loading properly on my Nook. More importantly, Sebastian Stan said he liked my outfit, so I was a little distracted :) Anyway, I really appreciate everyone who's reviewed and favorited/followed, and I hope this ending lives up to (at least some of) your expectations!

15. Exploiting our misery and selling it back to us for a cost

"What the hell. I'm glad he didn't do that when he rescued me,"Clint's voice brings his attention back to the room.

He stops kissing Natalia and looks up, embarrassed to have lost control of himself. Barton is looking at him in surprise, and Steve looks like he might be smiling. He turns his attention back to Natalia, who is stirring and blinking up at him. With difficulty, he resists the urge to kiss her again.

"Sorry," he mumbles, hastily getting to his feet and helping her to do so as well.

"No need to apologize to me, man. It looks like she was enjoying it," Clint says with a grin.

He looks intently at the floor, but is aware that Natalia glares at Clint, who throws up his hands in defeat. Steve makes his way over to him, but doesn't touch him. "I think we can call someone else to get this. I don't know about you guys, but I'm going to be sore in the morning. Let's head home," he says. Then Steve claps him once on the shoulder, before turning away and pulling out his phone.

Clint goes to find more arrows in the room beyond, and Steve steps out to call someone, Maria Hill, presumably. Natalia moves to stand in front of him, and waits until he relents and looks up, meeting her eye. She smiles faintly at him.

"I always amaze you?" she questions, raising an eyebrow.

He looks back at the floor. "You're very impressive," he defends himself, feeling sick. This is not how he was hoping this would go.

She sighs softly. "I'm sure they can take care of things. My head is killing me and I think I'd like Dr. Banner to take a look as soon as possible. You want to help me get home, James?" she asks quietly.

Nodding, he offers her his shoulder to lean on, then wraps his arm around her waist. They make their way to the stairs and out of the building. She directs them to a car, and he drives them back to the tower. Once inside, he accompanies her to the labs downstairs. He usually tries to avoid them, but isn't sure she can make it on her own. Once she is in Bruce's capable hands, though, he slips away and goes to his floor.

"You never did like to talk about this kind of thing," Steve's voice behind him causes him to tense up briefly.

"No?" he asks politely, not turning from where he stands, staring out the window in the living room.

Steve joins him, looking out as well. "Dames. I mean, you'd try to get me set up with one all of the time, but we never really talked afterward."

He shrugs. "Maybe I just didn't want to have a one-sided conversation with you."

Steve laughs a little. "Yeah, I guess it would have been one-sided if that was the topic." He pauses, sobering. "So, when did you realize you'd fallen for our ex-Russian spy?" His tone belies the jesting nature of the question, and he glances at him.

"When I saw her dance," he says evenly, noting the lack of surprise or confusion on his friend's face.

"Is she good? She hasn't shown us," Steve replies with a small smile.

"The best," he answers flatly.

"She must be, to make you break your programming."

He grits his teeth for a moment. "She told you?"

"Yeah. We weren't sure… if it would help for you to know or not," Steve explains, sounding pained. He shrugs. He doesn't know. "Where is she?"

"With Bruce."

Steve nods. "I'm sure she'll be fine. You didn't want to get checked out?"

"No."

"I understand, Buck. I'm going to go get cleaned up. I'll be just down the hall if you need anything," Steve says gently, grasping his shoulder for a moment before walking away.

He waits. He doesn't admit to himself what he is waiting for, just waits. Until he hears quiet footsteps behind him, and wonders if he'd rather go back to waiting.

"James."

"Natalia."

She stands next to him, close by, closer than Steve had. He doesn't move. "Do you have any injuries that should be looked after?" she asks quietly.

He shrugs. "I always used to get checked after a mission," he says tonelessly.

She lays a hand on his forearm. "What do you remember about being the Soldier?"

He turns to face her. "I remember everything, Natalia, and you were the one good thing in all of it."

"James," she says quietly, lifting a hand to touch his face.

Keeping his hands at his sides, watching her intently, he doesn't move as she runs her fingers across his cheek and brushes his lips. Then her eyes lift to meet his and she looks at him wistfully. He thinks of what he might say, what he wants to say, but there is too much, so he stays silent while her hand drops back to her side.

"I've missed you, Natalia," he says finally.

It is rare that she lets any real emotion show on her face. He can usually tell when she is putting on a façade, usually tell when it's the game she's playing. But now, it isn't. He can tell that she is distressed and aching and has been for a long time. Perhaps she's missed him, too.

"What happened to you?" she asks, hesitantly.

He isn't used to her being hesitant, concerned. Worried. He doesn't like it. "They came for me. Too many to fight, though I didn't try. They wiped my mind repeatedly until everything was gone," he answers. Her eyes close and she inhales deeply.

"I didn't know," she whispers.

"Where did you go?"

She looks at him again, some of that familiar fire returning to her eyes as she frowns. "Yelena. She came to the window and asked for my help on a mission. When I got back… You were gone." She's angry, and Yelena is lucky to be far from here. "They made me think I was crazy when I asked about you. I didn't know… I didn't know it was real until I talked to Steve yesterday."

He knows Steve talked to her about it, but he didn't realize it had been so recently. "Why?" he asks, surprised.

"He said you didn't shoot to kill me. And I thought about how you didn't shoot to kill the time we'd met before that, either. So there had to be a reason."

Tentatively, he lifts his real hand and reaches toward her. She doesn't move, or try to stop him, so he slowly moves the fabric of her shirt (no longer in mission gear) to see the scar above her hip. He touches it gently, then moves to touch the angrier one on her shoulder. "I'm sorry," he whispers, withdrawing his hand.

She catches his fingers in hers and looks up at him earnestly. "It wasn't you."

He bites his lip. "Are you sure?"

Her brow furrows slightly, then she smiles sadly. "Alright, maybe it was you. And I owe you my life for not aiming somewhere else."

His own smile is grim, and he looks down at their clasped hands. "It won't be the same."

"What won't?" she asks, confused.

"This," he says, holding their hands up slightly, eloquently.

She moves closer, releasing his hand and pushing it behind her back. Obligingly, he encircles her waist with it, keeping his metal arm at his side. "Is that a bad thing?" she wonders aloud, looking up at him intently.

"I don't know," he answers automatically, then studies her face for a moment. "Probably not," he adds truthfully.

She smirks. "Why not?"

Unable to resist any longer, he bends and kisses her briefly. "Because I don't think anyone is going to want to hurt us if they find out," he explains.

Her eyes sparkle with amusement, and she nods. "You're right. We don't have to hide anymore."

He pulls her closer. "That was the worst part," he says emphatically.

"The worst part? Of the whole experience?"

"Okay, being wiped after was probably the worst part. But that's hard to remember," he admits.

She smiles sadly, lifting a hand to cup his cheek. "I'm sorry they did that to you because of me."

He is shaking his head before she finishes her statement. "They did it frequently, not just because of us. And I'm pretty sure I started this," he says, kissing her forehead.

"Yeah, it's definitely your fault," she agrees, leaning against his chest.

He rests his cheek on her hair and closes his eyes. "Steve didn't seem surprised," he says after a while.

He can feel her laughing against him. "Did you want him to be?"

"Clint was."

"Clint sees best from a distance. We were too close."

He wonders about her phrasing. "I hope you don't think we're too close."

She pulls away enough to look at him, standing on her toes to kiss him. "No, I think this is a good distance," she says with that smirk he knows so well.

"I love you, Natalia," he says quietly.

"I love you, James Buchanan Barnes," she answers.