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It was a brutal winter, followed by a slow spring. The hazy green spears of daffodils and tulips had only just begun to emerge in the carefully planned flower beds that dotted the landscape around the Avengers facility. The sky overhead was an ominous grey and James Barnes watched it with a jaundiced eye as he wound his scarf a bit tighter around his neck and raised the zipper on his hooded sweatshirt. Steve was off god knows where, but left a note on the fridge that he would be back in two days and asking Bucky to walk the Colonel. So here he was, walking a grumpy looking mutt that reminded him of their former CO. It was almost funny; the former Hydra assassin super soldier, standing in the freezing early spring drizzle, policing dog droppings instead of brass. It wasn’t a bad job, really, he liked Colonel; he just wished it was a little warmer. For a moment, he considered going back in for his hat, his ears were cold. Days like this he missed his longer hair.
He had just turned back to the entrance when there was a sharp tug on the leash, and before Bucky could adjust his grip, Colonel slipped the collar and took off toward the Avengers training field to the rear of the main building. Bucky swore colorfully as he sprinted after the miscreant mutt. If anything happened to that dog, Steve's face would be unbearable.
Natasha sat in one of the adirondack chairs outside in what was properly termed the summer kitchen. She had a small fire going in the fire pit to ward off the spring chill and a mug of tea held in both hands to warm them. It was quiet with Steve and Sam gone; Wanda was visiting Clint at his farm this weekend and Scott was spending the weekend with his daughter. Which left her kicking her heels and only James for company, unless she went into the city to visit Pepper. She took another sip of her tea, and eyed the darkening clouds on the horizon. She hadn’t avoided James exactly, since that day they had tea together; but she wanted to make sure she gave him space to do what he needed to do. Natasha knew what it was like to have one’s brain carved up like a crown roast. Having the past constantly intruding on your present, even if you don’t remember most of it, was rarely helpful. And some memories are better forgotten.
A brown and black streak zoomed across the recreation area, barking like a mad thing. The Colonel, Steve's dog. Off the leash. She looked around and sure enough, in hot pursuit, the notorious Winter Soldier, in a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, with the leash and collar clutched in his metal hand. He looked fit to be tied as he chased the dog from one spot to another.
Natasha watched, chuckling to herself, until the rain began in earnest. James would be soaked long before he ever caught that dog. Taking pity, she whistled shrilly, and Colonel pelted through the rain and plopped himself at her feet. James (she couldn't call him Bucky) strode through the wet grass with a rueful expression.
“Why the hell does he listen to you when you call him, but not me?”
Natasha smiled at him as they made their way in through the back door, where they stopped to grab towels for both the dog and the dog chaser. She set her tea aside and began to dry off the muddy paws of the Colonel, while James unwound his scarf and draped it on a hook. He scrubbed a clean towel over his damp hair and face, sneaking glances at the pretty redhead who charmed a dog into sitting still. Every time he managed to cross her path, his tongue tied itself into knots. He hoped today might be the exception. He needed to talk to her. To tell her what he remembered. To ask if she remembered it as well. Then she smiled up at him and he found it difficult to breathe. He tossed the dirty towels into a basket and snapped the collar and leash back onto Colonel. She took the lead out of his hands and they both followed her into the common area kitchen.
She still had her mug of tea, so he opened the fridge in hopes that Sam hadn’t drunk the last of the apple cider that they had purchased from a nearby orchard. Luck was on his side this time and he pulled the glass jug out and poured some into a saucepan. He still thought the induction range was a little weird, but it was probably better to avoid open flames. The Avengers as a group tended to blow things up at an alarming rate. While the cider heated, he worked out the best way to say what he needed to say.
“I remember you, Natalia.”
Her eyes widened and then narrowed on him at the use of her name, but she sipped her tea calmly.
“How much do you remember, James?”
It was his turn to stall, pouring hot cider into a mug, adding a shot of whiskey.
“Not everything. Not yet. But more than enough to know what we were once.”
Her eyebrows shot up as she watched him over her mug, evidently, she hadn’t expected him to recall their former relationship.
“I’m not an idiot, Natalia. And I’m not asking for anything from you, except to hopefully confirm what my memory tells me. I don’t expect you to still have any kind of feelings for me. We’re not those people anymore.”
And that was not how he intended to say any of that. She stood motionless, as though she was trying to absorb everything he had just dumped on her. With hands that shook just a little, she dumped out her remaining tea and poured in two fingers of straight whiskey. She sipped and shuddered at the taste.
“Not exactly the high quality vodka you’re accustomed to, is it?”
“Definitely not, I will never develop the palate for American bourbon.”
“I’m sorry I scared you.” The jab landed perfectly. Her lips pursed in annoyance.
“You didn’t scare me. It’s just a lot to take in. For you as well as me. As you said, we’re not those people anymore. And I’m not sure how to help you.”
She took another sip of her liquor, keeping her eyes on the wall in front of her.
“Why don’t we start with dinner? We don’t have to go anywhere. You can come to our suite, we’ll have a meal and some conversation. We’ll keep it simple.” He took the hand not holding her mug in his right, held it loosely, while she considered.
“All right. Dinner is fine. Seven?”
His smile got so wide it began to hurt his face. He let go of her hand carefully.
“Seven is good. I’ll see you then.”
He whistled to Colonel and in a fit of madness, the dog obeyed his command. The day was full of miracles. As he made his way back to the suite he shared with Steve, he began to plan what he would cook. It was just a simple dinner, but it was an excellent place to start.