December 25, 2014

This time when Steve drags himself form sleep he does it without an ounce of trepidation. He isn't worried that she won't be there; there's no doubt in the way he reaches out, his eyes still closed to brush against Maria's hip.

"Morning," she murmurs and he smiles as his eyes open, her voice warm an sleepy. The tone is echoed in her limbs as she rolls over to face him, in her smile as it stretches across her face. He feels it rise up in him, fast and ruthless. It's not just contentment, but a bone-deep sort of rightness that squeezes in his chest.

"Morning."

He watches the sunlight dance over her face, feels his fingers twitch with the temptation to draw that soft look in her eyes. The one devoid of terror, devoid of the trepidation of yesterday. Warm. Real. Stunning.

"What now?" he hears himself ask as he watches his palm slip from her hip over her waist. He feels her inhale as much as he hears it, his hand rising and following with her breath.

"We keep going."

He's not sure he's ever felt relief like the feeling that rushes through him now, never realized he needed to hear the words until she'd uttered them. He sees the certainty of it in the intense blue of her eyes the relaxed look on her face and he knows, despite the insecurity – his and hers – her commitment hasn't wavered. Not really.

So he presses his palm to her cheek and leans in to kiss her with a confidence and surety that they are both in this, completely.

Together.

. . . . .

Across the world, in a non-descript motel room, she wakes to a warm hand at the bottom of her spine, almost purrs as it slides to the nape of her neck. Everything is warm, inside out. It's been years since she's felt this sated, this raw and pleasantly languid. Too many years, she thinks, as the hand tangles in her wild curls. He's always loved her curls.

"Natalya."

She sighs, hears it in his voice. Restlessness, maybe fear. Regardless, she's not stupid or naïve enough not to understand what he's about to tell her.

Their borrowed pocket of time is up.

She'd taken a hell of a chance, reaching out in a frankly ancient way. She'd been stunned when it had paid off, when he'd responded with coordinates in Moscow. And she'd gone. Of course she'd gone. An old haunt of hers that she'd told him about once, in a different life.

A life, it turns out, he remembers pieces of.

Or at least, he remembers her.

The feel of him, the cold of his metal hand against the skin of her hip. Russian murmured in her ear about how pretty she is spread beneath him and at his mercy. But she isn't afraid, even as his hand tightens to bruising. She moves with him, quick and dirty and everything she needs. Because for the first time, she's not thinking about the myriad of ways she could kill him. She's focused on feel, touch, taste, her teeth digging into his shoulder as she keens her release.

She sighs as he scratches gently at her scalp. Her soldier, alive and so obviously struggling. She wants to make him stay, wants to make him come back to New York, to deprogram him the old fashioned way. But she will not ask that of him. It's too much pressure, New York and the Avengers, the remnants of SHIELD and Hydra and Steve.

"Natalya."

"I'm up," she answers as she stretches, arches her spine. She hears him growl before his metal hand settles on her hip. She's pinned beneath his strength – not that she's really planning on going anywhere – even as he presses his mouth to her shoulder. Lips, tongue, teeth, another mark to match the myriad of them he's left over her body and while she's not the type that generally likes to be claimed, the thought of the marks he's left behind make her shiver pleasantly.

"You are tempting. Too tempting."

Her laugh is low and warm as she forces her libido back. She wants to hold onto him with all her strength, but her life since joining SHIELD has taught her that it isn't always about what she wants. And she knows what it's like, rediscovering that ability to choose again, to make decisions rather than following orders.

Her eyes float open, fix on his and the dark fear that hums under his skin. They don't need words, but she sighs, levers herself from the bed. She feels the heat of his gaze on her naked skin as she digs through her go bag, finds the tiny business card she'd stashed there on impulse. She wanders back to him, tries not to be too disappointed when she realizes he's already dressed. And tries not to take comfort in the fact that he's still here, he hadn't just slipped away into the dark.

"It's just a name," she tells him as she holds out the card. "One of mine."

He takes the card, arches an eyebrow. "Stark."

"And mine," she repeats, needs him to understand that she trusts that name. Implicitly. "If you decide."

That he wants out.

That he wants a home.

That he wants to stop living on the run.

He looks at the card, then back at her again. He tucks it in his pocket slowly, deliberately. Acceptance. And no, her stomach does not drop with an overwhelming feeling of relief.

Then he darts in, takes her mouth deep and thorough. Her head tips back with the pressure, the pleasure and for a moment she really thinks he's going to tumble her back to bed. But then he's breaking away, panting and half way to the door by the time she gathers her wits again.

(Two days later, when she's back in the US and trying to figure out just what her next steps are going to be – SHIELD and Stark, Hydra still spread across the globe and her ruined identities – when the text comes through from a blocked number. No words, she realizes, just a picture of her the day of her return stateside. She'd gone to the Smithsonian, stared at the movies of the Howling Commandos, and a face she knows so intimately. The picture is her profile, a small smile darting across the edge of her mouth, a gentle moment of sentimentality. It should scare her, send her scurrying, but she knows.

And that's how it begins.

Again.)

And this baby's complete!

My biggest and most sincere thanks to all of you who have followed me along on this journey, especially those of you who kept up with it even after the holiday season was over. I hope I still did the ending justice.

You are all amazing!