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Steve Rogers quickly thumbed through the dozens of Project Insight files on the desk. There were piles and piles of files everywhere; on the surrounding desks, the floor around his feet, and even on the shelves behind him. He wasn't even sure where to begin, but Natasha seemed to know. "Look in the drawers, Rogers. Secret files are usually hidden in compartments that are in the back." She said to him as she leaned over the computer above him, disabling the technological alarms that were blaring throughout the building.
He glanced up at her. For a moment, he watched the way her dazzling, emerald eyes looked over the computer screen, her thin fingers typing on the keyboard quickly even though she was pristinely calm. There was something about her that was enrapturing. It wasn't just her beautiful features or her sublime body. It was entirely her, her determination, her refinement, and her bravery.
From the moment he met her, he'd been allured by everything that was Natasha Romanoff. It augmented significantly as time went on, and they'd become partners. He knew her as more than a colleague now; as the woman who took his breath away with one glance and blew his mind with a kiss on an escalator.
"Focus. We have two more minutes!" She snapped at him, perceiving him staring at her. She was a spy, after all. She noticed everything.
Flush rose to his cheeks, and he swiftly began to look through the files again. He pulled apart every drawer, cracking the wood and trying to find any hidden compartment or clues for where one was. The entire mission from Fury was to find these specific papers and verify that Project Insight was entirely abated. This was their only chance to do so after successfully breaking into the government building, and Fury wouldn't be happy if they returned to headquarters empty-handed. Although S.H.I.E.L.D. had fallen, he reunited with Natasha after a few, long months without her, and they swiftly began helping Fury and Maria Hill destroy the last burning ashes of Hydra.
This was one of their most important missions to date. They couldn't fail.
"Thirty more seconds," She warned as she glanced at her watch.
The time passed quickly, but he found the papers just in time. The gunshots began exactly thirty seconds later, ricocheting off the walls and whizzing past their heads. He quickly shoved the papers into the bag that was slung over his shoulder and grabbed his shield. Natasha ducked down beside him behind the desk, pressing into his side as he covered them from the bullets. "Could've given me a warning." He shouted over the gunshots that made his ears ring.
She rolled her eyes and pressed closer to him as he wrapped his arm around them, the shield braced in front of them as bullets clanged off the Vibranium. It wasn't exactly an appropriate situation, but he relished the feeling of her thin frame against his large one. It just felt right despite the fact that people were trying to kill them. It felt right to hold her against him, to protect her like it was his only purpose in life. He knew it was wrong, that she didn't desire him as he longed for her, but he'd always followed his heart, and this time was no different.
She glanced at him sharply before she began retaliating with fire from two handguns she pulled from her waistband, shooting over the desk as bullets hit the wall behind them. "Sorry. I was busy trying to keep us from getting blown up by bombs!" She retorted sarcastically. "Care to get us out of here now?" She said as she ducked back down beside him, the guns drawn back to her chest and her index fingers on the triggers.
He wrapped his arm around her waist and situated his shield so it covered them both. It was a move that they practiced often, something he knew as her partner, and it was something that was almost as easy as breathing. She hooked her arm around his neck, continuing to fire her guns as they ran from the room together and quickly made their way to the planned escape route. It was an underground tunnel that he and Natasha had spent the majority of the night mapping out. Surely the government knew about it, but the winding shafts would give them enough time to get to the car Fury had waiting for them in the city.
They quickly reached the vent outside the room that led to the tunnel as bullets bounced off his shield around them, hitting the drywall and splintering the wood framing of the building. He yanked the cement grate off the wall, and she climbed inside with him trailing closely behind her. It was a tight squeeze, her back pressed to his chest as he bent down so he could fit without hitting his head on the pipes. He could feel every curve of her beautiful body and every weapon she hide in her ensemble. He tried to think of everything else but that. Everything but the way her smile tugged at his heartstrings and heat coursed through his veins.
However, he found that was all he could think about.
He just hoped that she wouldn't realize what he was thinking about with his front pressed to her back. He sighed, clearing his head and adjusting his shield behind his shoulder. As he did so, he hit his head on the tunnel and groaned softly as an ache flourished in his temple. He heard her soft laughter as she led the way through the winding tunnels. "You should've worn the helmet." She retorted.
He rolled his eyes in response.
He heard the government agents shout behind them and the sound of their boots against the cement of the tunnel.
They were found.
He and Natasha needed to make a fast getaway before they were shot. The gunshots ensued, and Steve shoved Natasha against the wall, pressing against her. It was instinctive to protect her, to cover her no matter what the consequences were. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if she got hurt. He told himself it was simply because she was his partner, but he knew it was much more than that. When the agents took a moment to reload their guns, he shoved her ahead of him, and they ran to the end of the tunnel that led out to the city.
"You don't always have to protect me. I've taken a bullet before... taken quite a few actually." She said tersely, taking a step back as he slammed his shield against the grate leading into the alleyway so they could escape.
He broke the concrete drain and followed her into the bright sunlight that beamed down on the city. "I'd always take a bullet for my partner." He said, shielding his eyes as the sun beamed down on them. Digging out the keys from the bag, he unlocked the red Chevy that Fury had parked for them in the alley as a getaway car. He opened the passenger door for Natasha before getting into the driver's seat, starting the engine, and peeling away from the curb.
"We need to change. These windows aren't tinted." She said. She quickly unbuckled her seatbelt, climbing over the center counsel and into the backseat. She dug through their overnight bag, pulling out a pair of clothes and disarming herself, laying her knives and guns out in the backseat.
He frowned, glancing back at her in the rearview mirror. "Tell me we're not going undercover again." He muttered, recalling the first time they were evading the Hydra agents. The only good thing that'd arisen from that was finding out Bucky was alive and kissing Natasha.
"No. We just need to find a place to lay low. It's too risky to go back to headquarters right now." She replied. "Find a hotel, not something fancy, but not a dingy motel either."
He hummed in acknowledgment. She was much better at this job than he would ever be. She could undoubtedly do it without him; he just considered himself her muscle, and she was the brains of the entire operation.
He heard the zipper of her catsuit and glanced back to see her stripping in the backseat. "What the hell, Romanoff?" He exclaimed, quickly turning around and gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. He'd caught a glimpse of her creamy skin, the swell of her breasts clasped in her bra and the slope of her slender shoulders. The car suddenly felt very hot, and he cranked up the air conditioning as heat pooled into his core. He desperately needed to focus, but all he wanted to do was pull the car over and kiss her, even though there were people out to kill them.
"Seriously? It's not like you haven't seen a woman body's before. You're fucking Sharon, anyway." She replied. She was an expert liar and a world-class spy. There were times when he couldn't fathom what she was thinking, but then there were times when he looked into her eyes and could read her like an open book. Even though he wasn't looking into her eyes, he perceived the hurt in her voice she tried to push down, and the animosity burned him because it wasn't like that.
"I'm not sleeping with Sharon." He said, feeling the need to affirm that he only had eyes for her. He was convinced that their kisses, playful banter, and brazen touches meant more to him than they ever did to her, but he still longed to call her his, to kiss her whenever he wanted and wake up with her in his arms. He longed for the moments she'd never want, but maybe she did want some of those moments if the tone of her voice said anything about how she felt.
She rolled her eyes at his response like she didn't quite believe him, slipping on a hoodie as she tugged off the rest of her dark, midnight suit. He could hardly believe that she was changing in the backseat as he sped down the highway.
"I told you to call her." She said.
"I did. Actually took her out a few times, but there wasn't anything there to build on."
Sharon was nice - pretty - but she wasn't Natasha. It wasn't fair to compare them but that's what he had found himself doing. Sharon wasn't the beautiful redhead who had the guts to slam him to the ground while they sparred and then make his heart pound against his ribcage with a mere smirk.
She grasped onto the back of his seat, peering at him from the side. "Is there another woman who caught Steve Rogers' eye?"
"Maybe there is." He said with a wink. He was being brazen, unusually bold but after spending months with her as her partner, he wasn't as reticent around her anymore.
He heard her sharp inhale, the way she quickly ducked back behind the seats and finished changing. "Боже, черт его побери." [God, damn him.] She mumbled quietly.
He took the exit to the east side of the city, and she crawled up to sit in the passenger seat with the Project Insight papers in her hand. "What did you say?" He asked, glancing at her with a smile tugging on the corners of his lips as she settled back down in the passenger seat.
"It's a secret." She smirked before pointing out a small hotel. "That will work."
He pulled into the parking lot, reaching into the backseat for his own hoodie and sweatpants that he pulled on over his uniform. "I'm going to learn Russian and then you won't be able to talk behind my back." He mused before they got out of the car together and made their way into the hotel lobby. He'd actually started to learn her native language so he could eventually inveigle her, but she didn't know that yet. He was convinced that he would never be able to impress Natasha Romanoff no matter how hard he tried however if was able to make her cheeks flush every once in a while, he'd take it as a win.
"Put your arm around me. Pretend to be my husband." She mumbled under her breath, stepping closer to him as they approached the desk. "And keep your mouth shut."
"I'm having a flashback to the mall." He chuckled lowly, hooking an arm around her shoulder. She jabbed her elbow into his side at his retort, but he pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to her forehead. He let his lips linger on her skin, inhaling the sweet smell of her perfume and relishing in having her so close to him. "Okay, honey." He said loud enough for the desk clerk to hear.
The older woman evidently didn't recognize either Steve or Natasha as she booked a room for them and handed over the key. As soon as they were in the suite and the door was locked behind them, Natasha called Fury as Steve took a shower to scrub the dirt and soot off him. When he walked out of the bathroom, he saw that Natasha was asleep at the kitchen table, slumped over the papers she'd been scrutinizing.
He smiled, his heart thrumming in his chest.
He adored her.
Carefully sliding his arm around the back of her knees and cradling her torso, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. He heard her moan softly, feeling her hand grasp his sweatshirt as she nuzzled her nose into his neck. She stole the breath from his lungs without even trying, and his heart soared at the way she sought comfort in him. He set her down on the bed, gently prying her fingers from his sweatshirt and pulling the blanket over her. He gazed at her for a moment, marveling at her before he leaned down and kissed her cheek. He just couldn't help himself. He had been wanting to do that for a while now.
He sat down at the table, reading through the files of Project Insight and noting relevant paragraphs. Just as he turned to the third page, he heard Natasha groan and roll over in the sheets. He glanced back at her, wondering if she was waking up, but she appeared to still be sleeping. Just as he turned back to the files, he heard her gasp and the distinct thud of her arm hitting the nightstand.
He stood quickly, knowing that she was having a nightmare.
He rushed over to her, grasping her shoulders as she fought against him. "Sweetheart, it's okay. You're safe." He said, gently shaking her and rousing her from the dark reminisce of her past.
She finally opened her eyes, gazing up at him. The sorrowful look in her emerald orbs broke his heart in two.
She shoved him away, pulling the blanket around her and quickly looking away from him. "I'm fine." She said shortly.
She wasn't.
He understood what she was going through, how hard it was to recover from nightmares and flashbacks. "You don't have to be strong all the time." He said imploringly, wrapping his arms around her and holding her against his broad chest even as she fought against him.
He could feel her trembling, her strength waning. Finally, her arms wrapped around his neck, and she clutched onto him. "I'm okay." She said again in a mere whisper, her breath fanning over his skin, sending a shiver up his spine.
"I know you are." He murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. He sat down beside her, drawing her close to him. "Sometimes, I just need an excuse to hold you."
He heard her laugh softly as her fingertips brushed across the nape of his neck. Goosebumps ghosted across his skin, and he sighed, closing his eyes.
He wished that he didn't have to have an excuse to hold her.
She shifted in his arms, splaying her toned thighs on either side of him as she pressed closer to him. "You know, the KGB used to handcuff us to the bed at night." She murmured out of the blue.
He rubbed small, soothing circles on her back as she began to spill her darkest secrets that she'd never told anyone, secrets that could never be uttered in daylight. She talked of those she'd killed and tortured, those who'd tortured and raped her; those who had left her alone and those she'd left to die. He listened to her every word without judgment, simply admiring her strength and her drive to do good in a world that had done her so wrong.
When she was quiet, after she'd irrevocably opened up to him and told her about her past, he laid down and curled around her protectively, even though they were safe for the time being. He pressed a kiss to her soft hair as she grasped his hand, entangling their fingers. He disregarded the sparks between them as her palm pressed against his. He focused on her entirely, paying no mind to the romantic feelings he felt. She needed him as a friend, as someone who would hold her through the aftermath of devastation. He was determined to be that person for her, someone she could always come to no matter what.
"Thank you." She mumbled tiredly, sliding her leg between his and moving even closer to him.
"For what?" He asked.
"For everything."