Life after meeting Natasha Romanoff was different to say the least. Steve couldn't stop thinking about her. How could he? She was his soulmate. His better half. The one he was destined to be with. There was just one problem. They weren't together.

They never even acknowledged the fact that they were soulmates. What was Steve supposed to say? "Hi, I'm Steve. I spent the past seventy years as a human popsicle. Want to get hitched and start a family?" Steve barely understood the women of own era. He had no idea how to approach the common woman of the twenty-first century. And Natasha was no ordinary woman.

She was strong. Confident. Independent. Gorgeous. Mysterious. It was the mystery that really intrigued Steve. He had known Natasha for two years now. And yet, Steve still felt like he barely knew her. While he had told her many stories about his life in the nineteen-forties, she had said oh so little about her own life. Natasha was guarded. By a wall a mile high. A wall that only Clint Barton could get past. At first, Steve thought that might be the reason Natasha had never said anything about their...unique connection. But when he asked her about it, Natasha laughed.

"We're just friends. Clint was the one who brought me into SHIELD," she explained in a deeply grateful tone "I owe him everything."

Which meant that it was possible to get past the wall Natasha stayed behind. So, Steve looked for an opening. He asked her to teach him modern fighting styles. When he joined SHIELD, he requested her to be his partner. And for a while it seemed to be working. Soon, they started making jokes. He started calling her Nat instead of Natasha. She even helped him adjust to modern life, helping him update his wardrobe and suggesting some of her favorite movies and shows to watch. And every once in a while, when the two of them were alone, Natasha's accent would slip. And Steve could hear the slightest of bit of the Russian in her voice. She'd blink, equally surprised by herself as he was, clear her throat and pretend it never happened. But for the briefest of moments, a redness would creep into her cheeks. To see the calm and composed Black Widow flustered, if even for a moment, was a rare sight. And to think that Steve was the cause of it, was both flattering and adorable. The wall was still there. Steve could feel it. But he felt like he might be able to find a way to get over it. Then Natasha asked him if he was interested in a date with Maria Hill.

It didn't stop there. For weeks, the Black Widow played at being Captain America's matchmaker, offering to set a date with every single woman of SHIELD. And everytime, Steve wanted to shout "I don't want any of those girls, I want you! You're my soulmate." But he could never find the words. Natasha had a whole life before Steve came along. What right did he have to try and force himself into the role he wanted, and not the one she offered him? So, Steve resigned to simply being her friend. No matter how much he wanted to be more. No matter how much it hurt when she wasn't with him.

She was the fire that kept him living. Whenever she wasn't around, Steve felt cold. Like somebody had thrown him back into the ice and he was slowly freezing to death. And no matter how many layers he put on, no matter how high he cranked up the heat in his apartment, Steve could never get warm. Not until he saw Natasha Romanoff again. He wished he could tell her that, but everytime he tried, he froze.

Focus soldier, Steve thought, blinking away his romantic thoughts Stay on mission.

The super soldier and the Russian spy walked side by side as they attempted to leave the Washington D.C. mall, heading off to New Jersey to investigate the mysterious USB drive that Nick Fury had died for, Steve spotted two STRIKE agents walking towards them. Fortunately, they hadn't seen Steve and Natasha yet.

"I'll engage," Steve whispered "You head for the Southwest exit. I'll catch up as soon as I can."

"Shut up and put your arm around me," Natasha ordered "laugh at something I said."

"What?"

"Just do it."

Steve quickly obeyed, wrapping his around Natasha's shoulder as he forced laugh, trying to ignore the racing beat in his heart from the moment they touched. Every time they shared even the slightest physical contact, Steve got this rush. As if someone had added another log to Natasha's fire, increasing the warmth that it gave to him. It made Steve want to hug her and never let go. Among...other things. If he got like this just from doing something as harmless as holding her hand, Steve could only imagine what would happen if he ever really touched Natasha.

And then, as Rumlow approached them from the opposite elevator, Natasha said the one thing Steve never thought he'd hear her say.

"Kiss me."

"What?"

"Public displays of affection make people uncomfortable," she explained.

"Yes, they do." Steve confirmed, struggling to come up with any sort of an excuse not to kiss Natasha. He had heard stories about the first kiss between soulmates. And if half of those stories were true, Steve would never be the same.

Steve's eyes widened in disbelief as Natasha wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him down towards her, pressing her lips against his without a moment's hesitation.

Steve's heart raced. His blood boiled with passion. His vision blurred into a pure red haze.

Steve walked with Natasha in Central Park on a hot summer day, the setting sun shining its light light across a red tinted sky. The war had been over for nearly a decade and a half now. And thanks to the combined genius of Howard and Tony Stark, Captain America was saved from his icy tomb. And not long after that, Steve found Natasha. The super soldier wore a crisp oxford shirt tucked into a pair of dark brown slacks and brown oxford shoes. While Natasha wore a bright red blouse, a jet black skirt and matching heels, a diamond ring on her hand. It was a modest ring, but Natasha treasured it more than life itself. The russian spy laughed as a pair of children pulled them along the beaten brick path, eager to reach the Starks' annual Fourth of July celebration.

The boy was a redhead, like Natasha, with sparkling blue eyes that could only come from Steve, wearing a white button-up shirt tucked into a pair of jeans. The girl looked like Natasha with little blonde curls, wearing a pale blue sundress and white flats. The children quickened their pace as the sound of brass band music entered their ears, prompting them to pull their parents faster down the path, until a familiar water fountain came into view. There, they found a grand carnival. Full of food, sweets, music and games. And in the middle of it all, was the Starks.

Howard was older, the hairs at his temple just starting to grey. Tony was little more than teenager. Each in an immaculate, high end suit, with champagne in their hands and smiles on their faces. The children became ecstatic at the sight of them, running out of their parent's grasp and over to the millionaire father and son, who gave them a pair of sparklers and headed off to enjoy the fun. Steve jumped as he felt a hand clasp on his shoulder, looking back to see a dark-haired man in a navy blue suit, a white shirt and a loosened silver tie. It was Bucky. The Howling Commando smiled as he handed his oldest and closest friend an ice cold beer, leading Steve and Natasha to a series of tables on the corner of the park, where they found the rest of their friends. Thor. Clint. Dugan. Jane. Sam. Peggy. Fury. Bruce. Gabriel. Pepper. Coulson. All of the Avengers and the Howling Commandos alive and well, enjoying the wonder of the Fourth of July. They laughed. They drank. They played games with the children. They danced, oh boy did they dance.

The second the brass band finished warming up, Steve took Natasha's hand and led her onto the open field, where the two quickly busted out their best moves. Natasha chuckled as Steve spun her around, pulling her close right before he dipped her. The russian spy laughed as Steve snapped her back upright, leaning in for a kiss as the first firework of the night fired into the air.

Steve's eyes snapped open as the first firework exploded across the sky, snapping him out of whatever strange vision Natasha's kiss pulled him into. It all felt so real. He could still smell the cotton candy. Hear the fireworks and the jazz band. Taste the last few drops of beer on his tongue. Feel the sensation of Natasha's kiss. Steve stared into the russian spy's eyes as she stayed silent, the look in her eye making it clear she had seen something similar to what he had seen.

The female Avenger took a shaky breath she turned around, her russian accent slipping out once again as she asked. "Still uncomfortable?"

"That's not exactly the word I would use."