Chapter Text
Steve remembers watching Natasha walk away, as if it was yesterday. He was lost, not physically but mentally. Sam and him had been searching and searching. Bucky didn’t want to be found and yet Steve couldn’t accept that. The hardest part about it is Steve knew the longer he kept searching for Bucky, the chance of never seeing Natasha again grew more real everyday. When she handed the file on Bucky to him, he knew Natasha was holding back information. He had learned with Natasha that if she doesn’t want to say it, it’s better not to ask. He missed her, he really did. He wanted her help, but he wasn’t sure. Sam had decided to go back home for a bit and see his family. Steve was all alone. He knew he always would have a room at Avenger’s Tower waiting for him. However he could never go there without Natasha. Without her there was no Avenger’s. Steve decided to make a call.
“I need to know where she is. Please tell me you have some info on where she might be?!” Steve sounded distraught.
“Well hello to you to Captain. I’m guessing your wild goose chase isn’t going as planned? Regardless Agent… I mean Miss Romanoff was last seen in London about a week ago. Barton had met up with her briefly,” Fury responded. His words however weren’t reassuring.
“Thanks Nick. And no I’m putting one goose chase on hold to start another,” With that Steve hung up and packed a small bag.
Natasha had led on a few things she dreamed about doing if one day she was free, to Steve. So when Fury mentioned Natasha had been in London he knew where she might head next, Paris. Natasha had told Steve she fantasied about strolling the streets of Paris listening to classical music. She even mentioned a tiny speakeasy style club she wished to go back to one day. Steve was aboard a plane to Paris within two hours. Several hours later he landed in Paris.
Steve had never really experienced the raw beauty of Paris. Right away he could picture Natasha city on a balcony sipping a glass of wine. Whenever she spoke in French Steve could see her eyes light up. Steve quickly checked into his room at the Le Bristol (one of Paris’s finest hotels), and headed out to find Natasha. He wasn’t even sure she would look the same, he doubt she would keep her red hair. He knew the best way to find her was her eyes. He was unsure of the name of the club Natasha would be at. Steve spoke very little French so his plans of stopping someone on the street were limited. He decided to into what looked like a souvenir shop. He was in luck the cashier spoke enough English to get his message across.
The Kind women at the till told Steve that the club was called Mer Morte which translated into Dead Sea. The lady wished him luck on finding Natasha. She reminded him that he was in the city of love. That startled Steve because he wasn’t sure if he loved Natasha. She was beautiful, smart, witty and charismatic. He remembered the kiss they shared on the escalator and how it made him feel. He knew Natasha could protect herself, yet Steve always felt he had to. Maybe he did love her, maybe she loved him. Steve would never know until he found her. So he button up his jacket and walked for twenty minutes until he was at the door of Mer Morte. Suddenly he realized how nervous he was, what if Natasha was angry that he was here? What if she runs? What if she wasn’t even there? Steve had no choice but to find out.
As he walked in he scanned the building. It was a small room with circle shaped tables and booths against the walls. At the front was a small stage with women singing. Along the side was bar. The place was dim and only the candles on the table were bright. He slinked into a booth at the back. He was almost in the corner when he realized a person was beside him. Startled he said sorry and began to slide out. When the person said sorry back however the voice rang in his head.
“Natasha?” Steve whispered, he couldn’t believe his eyes. She didm;t respond right away, Steve noticed she was waiting for the singer to finished her song. He quickly moved around to the other side of the booth. Getting a better look at her, he noticed her hair had been dyed blonde. She was wearing what seemed to be a very tight black dress, with a strand of pearls that fell just below her chest. Natasha then began to clap as the lady walked off the stage.
“You miss me Rodgers?” Natasha asked, she completely caught him off guard. But he could tell by the way she spoke that her guard was up.
“How can anyone not miss you Nat?” Steve was trying to hold down his emotions, if Natasha could play it cool so could he.
The way he said Nat made her feel warm. It was familiar, it was home. Part of her left because of Rodgers. He was to good for her, she needed him to grow. She knew he would go looking for Bucky and she couldn't let herself be exposed to that. That, Bucky or to her James was supposed to be part of the past. She used to think of him everyday until she met Steve. Now she didn't no what to think or feel. So maybe she wasn't running from the people who could hurt her, instead she was running from the people who loved her.
“So, what are you doing here Steve?” Natasha inquired, she wasn’t really sure she wanted to hear his answer.
“I want you to come back,” Steve persisted.
“Come back where? New York? It’s not possible I have to stay moving,” Natasha knew her words would hurt Steve, but what choice did she have?
“Why don't you slow down?” Steve was getting furious with her vagueness.
“Because someone always spots you or catches up to you,” Natasha was right. No matter where she went someone would be after her. She wouldn’t sit still and let them get her.
“Then why keep running? Why not come back to new York?” Steve pleaded. He was ready to pick her up and run her back to New York, even if it was an impossible idea.
“I don't know, maybe I like the thrill. I feel like if got comfortable some how I've lost,” Natasha said bluntly. Steve could tell she was being honest.
“Lost what?” Steve wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her she would be safe with him.
“My freedom,” Just like that, Natasha said two words and Steve could see the real Natasha.
They just starred at each other for awhile. Eventually the club began to close up and Steve and Natasha were standing outside. The city lights of Paris shinning on them. Steve, like a gentlemen draped his jacket over her shoulders. Her eyes thanked him. Steve smoothly slipped his hand into Natasha's and the two of them began to walk. Natasha wasn't quite sure we're they were headed. When then arrived at the front of Steve's hotel Natasha was shocked. Steve had defiantly matured over the past few months. They made there way into the elevator.
"You look beautiful," Steve smiled. She really did, it was like a dream and Steve wasn't interested in waking up anytime soon.
"Steve what are we doing here?" Natasha's words were distant again. She didn't want to let her guard down. She wasn't sure what giving in would do to her.
Natasha really didn't have a choice because Steve was already standing in front of her. He gently lifted up her chin and leaned forward. The moment engulfed the two of them. His breath was warm as he kissed here neck. Natasha let out a little moan, that made a smile spread across Steve’s face. They pulled away once the elevator dinged. They were at Steve’s floor. The two exited the elevator and headed towards the door to Steve’s room. Steve slid a card through lock and opened the door. Natasha entered and Steve followed behind her shutting the door.