A/N: Wow, thanks for the speedy feedback! Enjoy :)

Part II: You Say That Things Change, My Dear

She stretches languidly, feeling unusually refreshed and comfortable. The sun is streaming through the open window but not quite reaching her on the bed. Not her bed. Not her room. She is momentarily confused, then something between a smirk and a blush crosses her face as she remembers where she is. The expression vanishes as the emptiness of the room hits her. Perhaps he had second thoughts.

Resolutely, she gets up and works on making herself more presentable, thankful that the bathroom is attached and doesn't require her to go down the hallway and potentially run into Steve. Following that thought, she supposes she will go out the window again. It won't be quite as exciting this time, and the uncertainty that fills her won't be pleasant to deal with the rest of the day, but she'll be fine.

As she is ducking out the window, she hears the door open behind her, and turns to look.

"Leaving already?" The question is casual, but the look on James' face as he leans against the doorframe shows too easily how he feels about it.

She smiles, glancing at the tray he's carrying. No one has ever brought her breakfast in bed before. "Not if you'd rather I stay," she tells him calmly.

Lifting the tray a little awkwardly to bring her attention to it, he steps inside and kicks the door shut behind him. "It's probably more than I should eat by myself," he says.

"Of course," she agrees, sinking back onto the bed in the absence of anywhere else to sit. He sits down next to her, lightly, as though expecting her to tell him to move. "Didn't know you could cook," she says conversationally to set him more at ease.

His body language doesn't change, but a smile flickers across his face. "Me neither."

Steve would be upset by that kind of humor, she figures, but she appreciates it. It's important to be able to laugh at yourself, no matter what's happened to you. At least, that's what she's always thought. So she grins. "Well, let's find out if we should add this to your list of surprising skills," she suggests, and his smile grows.

They are silent while they eat, but not awkwardly so. When they've finished, he puts the tray on the dresser and remains standing, looking at her. She leans back and smiles confidently at him, waiting to see what he'll do. Before she can find out, JARVIS' polite voice makes both of them jump.

"Sgt. Barnes, Capt. Rogers is requesting your presence in the debriefing room in half an hour. Ah, Agent Romanoff, you are invited as well."

An unexpected giggle won't be contained, and she covers her mouth to muffle it. James looks up at the ceiling, perhaps startled by the AI in the building, then slowly smiles back at her.

"Well, I'd better go get ready," she says, getting to her feet. When she goes to walk passed him, he catches her arm lightly and kisses her thoroughly. "Maybe we should just take the day off," is her suggestion afterward, sounding a little dazed.

He presses a kiss to her forehead, holding her close. "I don't know that we're allowed to take days off," he answers thoughtfully.

"You don't think our contracts cover sick days?"

"We have contracts?"

Laughing, she shakes her head. "Fine, duty calls. We'd better answer."

He nods, expression serious. "Do you think… should we tell Steve?" he asks hesitantly.

"Tell him what?"

"That two of his agents are compromised and may be less reliable in the field."

She wonders if that's how their relationship was described last time. "You think we'll be less reliable?" she returns, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

He smiles disarmingly. "I can't imagine anything affecting your ability to complete the mission," he tells her with conviction.

Looking down, she wonders if he's right. "There are probably some things. But I'm sure we'll be fine. Maybe we could wait until we … figure this out a little better before we tell anyone." His smile fades, and she presses herself against him to reassure him. "Come on, James, time to work. We'll talk later," she promises, kissing him lightly as he releases her. Smiling over her shoulder at him, she climbs out the window, relieved to see him smile tentatively in return; he looked very lonely standing there.

They arrive separately to the meeting, of course, and his face is as expressionless as usual. Focusing on the mission comes easily to them, regardless of other circumstances. Years of training. So, outwardly, they behave much the same as they have been all along, rarely seeing each other outside of missions (at least during the day), and working surprisingly well together when in the field. Surprising to the rest of the team, anyway. Tony comments one evening that it makes sense for two equally terrifying people to get along perfectly and she almost chokes on her drink.

Clint is paying closer attention to her, no doubt noticing something changed, but she doesn't tell him right away. She figures Steve should be the first to know. The other Avengers are great and all, but she knows they find her very enigmatic. So there's little danger of her relationship with the Winter Soldier being noticed by any of them. Getting a good read on how Steve might react is proving a challenge, though, since she doesn't see him alone very often. James and he must be getting along when she's not around, as Steve is usually in a good mood, and they occasionally joke about things on missions. She doesn't want Steve to think she has come between them in some way, and isn't sure how he will take it if he knew the relaxation of his friend's behavior is likely because of her.

James has been trained very thoroughly not to want things. Or people. He is happy to have her visit, but does not come to her unless she asks. His personality is still mostly buried and she is impressed that he broke out enough of his programming to want her when she was younger. Now, he doesn't show much in any obvious way, and it takes an effort to read him. He'll hold her hand when they're alone, or kiss her, even if they're on a mission, but only if she prompts him. He isn't obvious about anything he enjoys, whether with her or on his own. Steve has been helping considerably with getting him to express himself, and she thinks it isn't doing James any favors to keep something from his best friend. So she resolves to tell him at the next opportunity.

"Nat, you scared me," Steve says as he walks into his kitchen, glancing at her sharply.

She's leaning against the counter, a calm smile on her face. "Not my intention," she offers.

"It's fine." He faces her, relaxing, and returns her smile. "How are you doing?"

"Pretty well," she answers, smile wavering.

"What is it?" All concerned, of course. He was likely empathetic before Project Rebirth, but is potentially overly so now.

She licks her lips, uncomfortably aware of how well he can pick up on her emotions. They're not a weakness, she reminds herself. Sometimes, she believes that statement. Now is not one of those times. "Your best friend and I have been –" she uncharacteristically struggles for a word – "seeing each other."

His eyes widen, but she detects the hint of a smile. "How long has this been going on?"

"Oh, about ten years," she returns, making no effort to hide her grin.

A baffled frown crosses his face. "Ten years?" he echoes.

"He was apparently one of my trainers in the Red Room. He remembers; I don't," she explains.

Things are clearly coming together for Steve, from his expression, and she waits patiently for him to digest this. "And you figured you'd just pick up where you left off?"

She thinks he is struggling not to laugh. Tossing her head in mock-annoyance, she shrugs. "Yeah, well, you know, he's got a nice face," she says defensively.

Steve laughs in earnest then, and shakes his head. "So I've heard. Always had a thing for redheads, too, I seem to recall." His jesting tone drops and he looks at her intently. "I'm happy for both of you."

"That's good, because I'd much rather take the stairs than climb down the building to see him," she deadpans, and he laughs again.

Next, she tells Clint.

"Barnes and I are together," she says without preamble, dropping next to him on his favorite spot on the roof.

To his credit, he is not startled either by her presence or her statement, gaze still fixed on the view. "Thought he wanted to kill you," he answers conversationally.

"So did I, the way he was staring at me," she admits.

He looks at her sharply. "Not that kind of stare?" he suggests, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Apparently not," she returns, grinning.

Nodding, he turns his attention back to whatever he was staring at. "Good for you. Try not to get me killed because you're too busy checking out your boyfriend."

"I'll see what I can do."

She doesn't tell anyone else. Telling Steve and Clint makes sense, because she feels understood by them. The thought of revealing something so close to her is unpleasant, to say the least, and she supposes she will just hope that word will spread without her direct influence. For the most part, though, she doesn't mind keeping the whole thing to herself. It's a new experience, being with James, and it's very dear to her.

There have been others, of course. Other relationships, other men she trusted. But none quite like this. Perhaps because none of the others could understand so perfectly what she has gone through to get to this point, since he is in the process of something similar. How had Clint put it after she'd freed him from Loki's influence? Did she know what it was like to be unmade? And that was the closest she'd ever felt to him, because she does know. She knows exactly what it's like. And so does James.

Having a shared history with him is something to which neither of them ever refer. He remembers things about her that he shouldn't know, but rarely does he reveal this. She wonders what she was like when she was so young and so driven, still determined to be the best asset her country had ever seen. Then subsequently defected and joined what some would call the enemy, and, more recently, helping to bring that down, too. So now she does what she can about her ledger, and likes to contemplate whether helping James wipes out some of the red. When she's being honest with herself, she supposes it does, but only because she owes Steve and it repays him. James is benefiting, but no more than she is.

When they are apart, he still has nightmares. She tries not to be away from him at night, but sometimes she has missions on which he does not join her. If she has to be gone, she limits the amount of time, which is quite a change from how she's acted most of her life. Though she struggles to accept that it happened, she supposes she can see why their relationship when she was young would have been such a problem. It's hard to leave him, even for only a little while.

She lies. She lies to marks, to her superiors, to her friends, to herself. But not to James. It's not a conscious effort; she just doesn't. It makes time spent with him leave her feeling raw, but in a good way. James is quiet, closed-off, keeping his distance from everyone. He'll smile slightly at Tony's jokes or Clint's deadpan asides, but he doesn't engage with anyone. Except for her and Steve. She knows he tries to act like Bucky for Steve, but sometimes she thinks that she's the only one who sees the rare glimpses of the charming young man he used to be come out naturally. Steve must; but it seems easier on James when it's not what's expected.

And she supposes that's something else she can understand. James tries to act like Bucky, to remember who he used to be. While she tries to remember Natalia and the Winter Soldier, tries to conjure up their past together. He will tell her about it if she asks, but she doesn't ask. She doesn't dwell on the past, and he respects that. It was, as he said, the one good thing he's remembered (presumably since he fell). But for her… It was a dark time in her life that she does not want to consider. Because no matter how pleasant his presence might have been, the whole experience is not one she wants to admit to having.

"I don't care who you found, Bucky, you're not going out there alone!" Steve's anguished tone catches her attention and she pauses in the hallway, uncertain of her welcome.

"I have to," James replies resolutely, a hint of anger warming his cold statement.

"Where does he want to go?" she asks politely, entering the kitchen where they are arguing.

Both turn to look at her, startled. Steve looks almost pleading. "Nat, please tell him he can't go off on a mission by himself."

She looks James up and down, aware that he is dressed for leaving. The fact that he didn't tell her is only somewhat softened by the evidence that he wasn't going to tell Steve, either. "Where are you going?" she asks softly.

James shifts his weight slightly, uncomfortably. "I've been searching for… for people from my past. I found one," he answers evasively.

"And what are you going to do to him?" His response is just to gaze at her, which she understands well enough. Steve looks at her, then at James, then back, his expression equally eloquent. "I agree with Steve," she declares. James clenches his hands and his face becomes carefully blank, while Steve looks relieved.

"Come on, Buck, you can't just go off after some rumor," Steve says, shaking his head.

She clears her throat and they both look at her again. "I meant he shouldn't go alone," she clarifies. The look on Steve's face would be funny if it weren't so heartbreaking, while James gives her the slightest smile.

"Nat, please, you don't know who this guy is," Steve begins.

Gently, she pats Steve's arm. "If it's something he needs to do, we should help him," she tells him quietly, though aware that James certainly heard. His smile vanishes.

With a heavy sigh, Steve nods. "Alright, but I'm coming too. I'll go get ready."

She watches him go, then approaches James slowly. He observes her but doesn't react. "James, who is it?" she murmurs, touching his hand.

"Lukin," he says shortly.

"Where is he?"

"Odessa."

A grim smile crosses her face and she squeezes his hand. "What's your plan?"

He presses his lips together, drawing his hand away. "You shouldn't come."

"Why not?"

"Because of what he did."

"James."

His gaze flickers to her then elsewhere. "To me. To us," he clarifies, voice thick with suppressed emotion.

She moves forward until she is against his chest, wrapping her arms around him. She doesn't say anything, just leans against him until he finally embraces her. "We'll do this together," she tells him firmly, after a few moments. He doesn't protest again.

The trip takes a while, of course. She's glad to be piloting for most of it, since both men are all nervous energy. Steve is fidgety, chatty, and doesn't know what to do with his hands. James is silent and as taut as a violin string. She isn't sure who is more unpleasant to be around, and wonders if that's how they were on missions in the war. It seems unlikely; things weren't quite so personal back then.

Finally, they land. Steve lets James lead the way, which is a change. She brings up the rear, keeping an eye on both of them and on their surroundings. They go in a regular-looking building, but it is suspiciously empty and the elevator takes them to floors that should not exist, far underground. When the doors open with a ding, all three of them tense, ready for an attack, but ahead of them is a dark and empty hallway, lit periodically by a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. Glancing at each other, they start forward in silence.

The emptiness is affecting her nerves, though possibly it is just a result of concern for James. This place seems abandoned and she doesn't know who or what he expects to find, but she follows him anyway. Steve seems to share her mindset and the tension is growing the farther they go. There are other corridors that branch off, but James moves without hesitation. She wonders if he has been here before.

Finally, they reach an open space and she stops dead in her tracks. She is absolutely certain that she's been here. It's a training room of sorts and she can picture the pads on the walls and the floor, even though they are no longer there. Nothing else was familiar about this place but this room is definitely known to her. James' fingers wrapping around hers brings her back into the present, and she gives him a nod, vaguely aware of Steve staring at her. James nods back and they continue through.

The corridor they take at the other side also seems to echo through her brain, though not quite as strongly. Her feet want to take her to the right at a fork in the hallway, but James goes left and she forces herself to do the same, achingly curious about what lies to the right. Steve is walking behind them, clearly confused by her reaction to the place and the fact that James is still holding her hand tightly, but he doesn't comment. He can likely infer what this place is.

Voices can be heard echoing and they all stop immediately, listening hard. It's impossible to tell how far off the speakers are, so they continue to walk, taking great care to be soundless. There are lights ahead, more than just the emergency lighting that they have seen up to this point, and James lets go of her to motion for them to wait while he checks it out. Both she and Steve want to protest, but won't give up their position to do so, and glance at each other in shared annoyance as James moves toward the open door on the left.

James stops outside of it and presses against the wall, peering around slowly. Then, to her surprise, he steps forward to be framed in the doorway. "Lukin," he growls.

"The Winter Soldier," a responding voice can be heard, speaking Russian, and she is startled by how familiar it sounds. No memories return to explain it, and she shifts uncomfortably. "How is my favorite asset?"

A cold smile crosses over James face and he motions discretely for them to approach. Steve and she are happy to comply. "I'm sure we can catch up later. Get up and come with me."

"Ah, I see. I'm afraid I can't do that," Lukin replies, sounding genuinely apologetic. "I suggest you turn around and leave before I have to do something drastic."

James swears deftly in English, and Lukin laughs in surprise. She and Steve move to flank James, and she is surprised at how normal the office in which the man is standing looks. The man himself doesn't ring any bells, but she isn't sure. He is wearing a polite smile, which grows at the sight of them.

"Perhaps your friends can convince you to go home?" he offers. "I remember Natalia being particularly persuasive," he adds with a grin.

A cold shiver runs down her back at the statement, while James looks angrier than she's ever seen him. "I don't think so," he says flatly.

Lukin ducks behind his desk as James pulls the trigger on his weapon, and then noise explodes everywhere, the confined space echoing. Lukin's men appear out of nowhere and the three of them are definitely in over their heads. Perhaps it was the surprise, perhaps their enemies were prepared for an attack, but she quickly determines that they are going to need help to get out of this mess. Even the combined strength of Captain America and the Winter Soldier is no match the sheer number for Lukin's men pouring into the office through another door. She ignores them as much as possible, and goes after the man in charge herself.

"Natalia," he says with a smile when she gets close. "How pleasant to see you doing well."

"Call them off," she growls, jumping over him to pull him to her with a knife at his throat.

"Oh, not yet, my dear," he answers, shaking his head sadly. He says something else, a phrase she can't place, and she finds herself immediately releasing him and falling to the floor.

"James!" she manages to get out before everything goes black, her last thought that SHIELD had tested her for residual trigger words and this shouldn't be happening.

She is lying on her back. There are straps on here arms, her legs, her torso. There are people around her, talking, but she can't place what they're saying. She knows they're talking about her, though. After a while, the words stop flitting around her head and she manages to make sense of them.

"– what he wants."

"Me neither. But we'll just have to give it a try."

Someone huffs in annoyance. "She's an excellent asset. I'd hate to make her useless to us."

"You saw what she did, what the three of them did. Being useless would be better than having her work for our enemies."

Her fingers clench against her will and she aches to know what's happened to James and Steve. She's clearly been captured and desperately hopes that they have not been.

"Tell him she's awake."

Opening her eyes, she has a view of the ceiling and some mechanical apparatus to which she is strapped. Which fills her with an unexplainable terror and her breathing starts to become ragged.

"Ah, Natalia, no need to fret, you'll be out of here soon," Lukin's voice is above her.

"Where's James?" she snarls through clenched teeth.

"Oh, don't you worry about him. He's going to be joining you."

"What are you going to do to me?" She's pleased that her fear is not evident in her tone, and starts to feel more like herself. Maybe she can turn this around.

Lukin sighs. "You were such a beautiful asset, the greatest of the Black Widows," he says wistfully and she struggles not to jerk away when he touches her hair. "We want you back, my dear."

"No," she answers firmly.

Another sigh. "You were always a stubborn one, but you used to be more compliant. I'm sure my men can bring back that wonderful quality in you." She swore viciously and he laughed. "Start up the machine," he orders someone else.

The bonds are tight and she knows that she can't break them, but she starts struggling violently nonetheless. It hurts, will leave bruises and cuts, but she doesn't care. She has to get out of here, has to escape this fate. Has to find James and keep him away, too. It wasn't worth it, to come here, to have a chance to get rid of Lukin. They should have brought backup.

"Hold still, Natalia!" Lukin growls at her, the first indication he's not completely cool and collected. She takes that as a positive sign and manages to get most of an arm free. But then a weight drops on her chest, driving the air out, and she struggles to breathe while someone injects her arm with something. It works fast, and she's out again before she can catch her breath.

Dancing, twirling, standing en pointe. Learning ballet from a strict little woman with a beautiful face and a thick Russian accent when she spoke to them in English.

Target practice with an older woman – shooting firearms as well as getting the hang of throwing other projectiles to bring down an attacker.

Hand-to-hand combat with a young man – the Winter Soldier. Being the only one who could occasionally best him.

Determined to be the best, not to be distracted – but failing when he was so protective of her. Sneaking into his room at night, acting for the first time like she wasn't, like they weren't, just weapons to be used.

Watching him be wiped, forgetting everything about her, his screams feeling like they entered her soul. Seeing no recognition on his face afterward, only blankness. Waiting to receive the same treatment.

She's lying down again. Still? She doesn't know which; but there aren't any restraints this time and she has a blanket covering her. Her tight-fitting suit is gone, replaced by something more comfortable. Voices are hushed and she can barely make them out somewhere near her toes. It is her first instinct to leap out of the bed, but she finds her strength is drained and all she can do is move herself a few inches over on the bed. It brings attention to her, and she can tell she's surrounded.

Blinking against the bright lights above her, she tries to make out the shadowy figures crowded around her bed. One of them glints, at least on the left side, and she feels immense relief. Reaching out, she grabs hold of James' metal fingers and pulls. He obligingly moves forward and leans in so she can get a good look at him. There are a few cuts on his face, but he seems none the worse for wear. The horrifying blankness she half-expected to see is not there, and she pulls him down to kiss him insistently, any other expression of her emotions seeming inadequate.

"Whoa, what did they do to her? Is she going to greet all of us that way?" Tony's stage-whisper breaks through, and she lets out an uncharacteristic giggle in her relief. She can feel James smile before he pulls away. He stands up, still watching her, his smile fading in the presence of the others.

"I'm fine, Stark. Just got a little carried away," she explains, settling back against the pillows on the bed. She's in the infirmary of the Tower, most of the residents standing around her, wearing varying looks of relief. Except for Clint, who is on her left and downright glaring. Though whether he's glaring at her or at James, or maybe Steve, she's not sure.

"Hmm," Tony pouts, but he looks happy to see her, even if she won't be kissing him.

"I take it we got you out in time," Steve says, a little apprehensive, glancing between her and James.

"I think so. I remember everything, if that's what you're asking," she replies, frowning slightly as she takes stock of herself. Nothing feels different, other than being very tired. James hand in hers is reassuring.

"We ran some tests, but couldn't find anything wrong," Bruce offers, standing near the doorway and looking slightly uncomfortable with the crowd.

"I think we should let her rest," Clint interrupts with surprising authority.

More to her surprise, the others start filing out, though James doesn't move. They express their pleasure at her recovery, each in their own way, as they go. She receives a few cheek kisses and pats on the head or hand, and a lot of gentle smiles. When it's just the three of them, Clint frowns down at her. "What the hell were you thinking, going off without me?" he says dangerously.

James clenches her hand a little tighter, though she can't be sure if he's agreeing with Clint or angry at him. "I thought it had been a few years since you thought I needed a babysitter," she replies amicably.

"'Tasha," Clint replies painfully, ignoring James' presence entirely. "What would I have done if they'd turned you back into – back into who you were. What would I have done if you'd forgotten everything but the Red Room?"

"I don't know," she answers honestly, sitting up more to meet his eye, to show she's taking this as seriously as he is.

He shakes his head. "You can't take risks like that," he tells her.

"I had Captain America and the Winter Soldier with me – it didn't seem like that much of a risk. I'm sorry, Clint," she adds, gentler.

The tension between Clint and James is palpable and she isn't sure what to do to dispel it, which is unusual. Soothing people is one of her strengths. Finally, Clint gives her a nod and turns away, leaving them alone. James relaxes visibly, but he doesn't turn his attention away from Clint's retreating back.

She tugs on his hand. "It's okay, James, really," she says when he turns to look at her. Slowly, he nods, and she resists smiling at how protective he can be.

"You should get some sleep," he murmurs.

"I should," she agrees, amused that he seems torn about leaving her there. "There's room for two," she adds, and he gives her a slight smile, releasing her hand as she rolls over onto her side so he can lay behind her. His right arm slides around her waist and his left slips under her pillow, presumably so she won't be bothered by its temperature or texture. He presses a kiss onto the top of her shoulder and buries his face in her hair.

"I'm glad you're okay," he whispers, almost inaudibly.

She puts her arm over his, interlocking their fingers. "I remembered," she tells him in a similar tone.

His body stiffens and she holds her breath. Then he wraps himself more tightly around her and doesn't say anything for a while. "I am sorry," he answers at last.

"I'm not," she replies.

"No?"

She searches for words, feeling muddled and sleepy. But she wants to explain things to him first, before she forgets. Because she doesn't know how she'll feel later, if it will all seem like an unpleasant dream, or if it will feel as real as it does now. "It's a part of me. I have never been comfortable knowing that there are things I don't know about myself."

"I understand," he says quietly, and she smiles grimly, knowing he does.

Thinking about what he said the first they talked about their shared past, she runs her fingers across his and then takes hold and pulls him closer around her. "You may not be the only good thing in my memories, but I think I love you, James Buchanan Barnes," she tells him a little hesitantly.

He lifts himself up with his left arm and leans over to kiss her tenderly. "I love you, Natalia," he replies afterward. She kisses him again, then settles back down to sleep. After a moment, he does the same, slowly running his hand up and down her side until she drifts off, reflecting that she's grateful Steve talked her into moving in.