as a shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn

Camp Lehigh, New Jersey

It worked. Oh my God, it actually worked. Steve had to look at his enlistment papers, at least once a day, to convince himself that none of this was a dream. He was actually here, at Camp Lehigh, in New Jersey (unfortunate), for basic training.

Dr. Erskine told him all he was giving Steve was a chance. But a chance was all Steve needed to prove himself, to show the army that he was more than just the skinny guy who didn’t know when to quit. To show them that he had the determination, the self-discipline, and the work ethic to make it through basic and to become a good soldier.

There was talk among his fellow candidates that what they were training for wasn’t just for regular boot camp variety training. There were rumors going around that what they were doing at Camp Lehigh was something more specific, something more specialized that involved the Strategic Scientific Research. Steve had been hearing a lot about this supposedly discreet branch of the Allied war effort.

In essence, the United States military have recruited scientists and engineers from across the country, and even going so far as to offering asylum to bright scientists and engineers from Axis countries, all to give the US military that extra edge to win against the Axis power. In the UK, Bletchley Park have started the project of decoding the Enigma, while in the US, the Strategic Scientific Research was focusing its efforts on something called Project Rebirth. They were told that at the end of their training, one among them would be chosen to be part of Project Rebirth. Nobody knew what that would entail, but as it was something highly classified it seemed poised to be something dangerous or something extremely rewarding.

But for now, Steve focused himself in going through basic training and trying not to die before the end of the week. Because basic training was brutal.

“Recruits, attention!” a sharp, commanding voice snapped them all back to line. A woman officer, in a olive green SSR uniform, strode confidently in front of them, “Gentlemen, I’m Agent Carter. I supervise all operations for this division.” She looked them up and down the line. She seemed unimpressed with Steve and her fellow recruits to say the least.

“What’s with the accent, Queen Victoria? Thought I was signing up for the U.S. Army.” Gilmore Hodge, leading contender for Project Rebirth and all around bully and misogynist, spoke up. Steve repressed a great sigh at Hodge’s blatant disrespect to someone who was clearly their superior officer, regardless of her gender.

“What’s your name, soldier?” Agent Carter asked him.

“Gilmore Hodge, your Majesty.” Hodge answered, his tone condescending.

“Step forward, Hodge. Put your right foot forward.”

“Mmm… We gonna wrassle? Cause I got a few moves I know you’ll like.” Steve bit his lip to prevent the groan of disgust that threatened to escape his mouth at Hodge’s words. Just as he was about to speak up on Agent Carter’s behalf, the woman stepped back and with a mean right hook punch Hodge in the face so hard that the big man fell like a sack of flour on the ground.

A bell-like laughter, one he thought he would never hear again, float to his ears and he looked up to see Natasha just yards away from where he was standing, having just drove in with an elderly man who was wearing the same uniform as Agent Carter.

Natasha was sitting in the driver’s seat, evidently she had been the one who drove the Colonel to the training ground. She wore a jumpsuit, just like all the other mechanics on the base did, though she stripped off the top part to tie the sleeves around her trim waist, exposing the black tank top she wore underneath and the amber pendant around her neck. She had oil smudges on her hands and upper arm. Her ponytail was immaculately done up as the last time Steve saw her. In short, she looked amazing. And Steve couldn’t believe his luck that she was there with him.  

“Agent Carter, I see you’re breaking in the candidates. That’s good!” the man said. Then to Hodge who was still sprawled on the ground he said, “Get your ass up out of that dirt and stand in that line at attention 'til somebody comes tells you what to do.”

Natasha disembarked from the car and walked towards the line of recruits. She stood next to Agent Carter observing the recruits, though Steve caught her subtly putting up her fist at waist level for Agent Carter to surreptitiously bump with her own. Steve hid a smile at the clear sign of friendship these two women seemed to have.

“Yes, Sir.”

The man, Colonel Phillips, addressed them, “General Patton has said that wars are fought with weapons but they are won by men. We are going to win this war because we have the best men…” his gaze trailed off to Steve, “And because they’re gonna get better. Much better. The Strategic Scientific Reserve is an Allied effort made up of the best minds in the free world.”

“Our goal is to create the best army in history. But every army starts with one man..” the colonel finished his speech. “Agent Carter, Miss Stark and myself will supervise your training. At the end of this month we will choose that man. He will be the first in a new breed of super-soldiers.”

At the mention of Natasha’s name, Steve surreptitiously glanced at her, managing to catch her eyes and Natasha offered him a small smile and a slight nod of the head.

Natasha was here. What were the chances of them meeting again after their first meeting at the Expo? Was Natasha’s purpose at the Expo to scout for the SSR? It would seem like the most logical explanation for their “chance” encounter. Steve fervently wished for the chance to talk to her again.

But basic training demanded his attention. From sunrise to sunset, he was continuously in the field, marching or running with his pack filled with about eighty pounds worth of stuff or doing other forms of endurance training. By the time they stopped to break for the day and they were rushed to the barracks for lights out, Steve would collapse on his cot, body aching and too tired to think about anything else than how exhausted he was and how good the mattress felt on his aching body.

Sometimes he would see Natasha at the mess hall for meal times. She would be sitting with Agent Carter (Peggy). Most times, Peggy would be eating while Natasha would have her head bent in concentration writing something in a brown leather bound journal she carried with her everywhere, food forgotten in her focus. Peggy would sometimes nudge the plateful of food at her direction in attempt to remind her to eat, which then Natasha would pick up the spoon or fork and spoon some food into her mouth, then promptly forgot about her food again.

Many, many times Steve was tempted to walk over to her and grab her spoon and just started feeding her himself. He wasn’t sure how Natasha would take that gesture though.

Two weeks after the start of the training, Steve finally got his chance to talk to her again. That night he was sick and tired of the ribbing and mocking from his fellow trainees. He stepped outside to get some time for himself and gather his thoughts. At quiet times like these, his self-doubt started rearing its ugly head again. Steve sighed, looking up at the sky, wondering where Bucky was right now and if he had to go through what Steve was going through right now. Bucky would know what to say to cheer him up or make him laugh.

“Planning to sneak out off base?”

Steve jerked at the question, startled at the unexpected voice addressing him. Turning around, he saw Natasha lounging on the bench, her ever present journal by her side.

“Hi, Steve.” she greeted him.

“Natasha, hi. How-- how are you?” Ugh, smooth Rogers. Two seconds in her presence and you’re tongue tied like a little boy.

“Not too shabby. Can’t say the same about you, though. Duffy was rough today.” Steve winced at the reminder of what the sergeant put them through today. They had to crawl through mud, all the while avoiding the barbed wire strung up over the top of the mud. Hodge had kicked one of the posts holding up the wire and some of the wire fell on Steve’s face and hands.

“Yeah. It is what is, though. Basic wasn’t supposed to be easy.” Steve shrugged deprecatingly. He sat down on the empty spot next to Natasha. In the moonlight, she looked ethereal. Her thick brown hair was loose, for once, curling at the ends.

“You’re hurt,” she gestured at Steve’s scratched up hands, the ones who bore the brunt of the collapsed barbed wire.

“Oh, it’s nothing a trip to medical wouldn’t fix. I’ll go early tomorrow to get them treated.” Steve told Natasha reassuringly. Somehow, Natasha looked unconvinced. She scooted closer and placed her hands over Steve’s wounded ones. The warmth he felt before whenever Natasha touched him spread through his hands. Steve looked up in alarm at the woman sitting next to him, her eyes were closed as if she was concentrating on something. When she finally opened her eyes and removed her hands from Steve’s, the small cuts and wounds on his hands were gone. Natasha had healed his wounds with a single touch.

“All fixed.” She said, a soft smile on her lips.

“It was you. That first day we met. My hands were scuffed from a fight, but after we shook hands it was gone. I thought it was all in my head. But it was you...you healed me.”

Natasha nodded. The smile on her face was replaced with trepidation, “it’s just something I can do. You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?”

“No, no.” Steve shook his head fervently, “your secret’s safe with me, Natasha.”

“Great!” the smile returned much to Steve’s pleasure, “thank you, Steve!”

“Of course. But how-- how did you do it? Have you always known that you can do this?”

“I was born like this. I can heal other people, but not myself. I don’t know how I do it, I just do.” Natasha shrugged, she didn’t seem satisfied with her explanation either.

“Thank you for sharing this with me, Natasha. It can’t be easy for you.”

“Surprisingly, things regarding you come very easily to me. I wonder why?”

Steve smiled at her bashfully. Could it be Natasha felt the same as him? She felt that connection, too? The one that made it impossible to Steve to go five minutes without thinking about her. Was that what she meant?

“Can I ask you a question? It’s something that I’ve been wondering ever since we met again at the beginning of basic.” Steve started. Natasha nodded her acquiescence, “were you at the Expo to scout for the SSR? Did we meet because you arranged it?”

“Oh, God, no, Steve. I understand in hindsight that it must have looked that way. But I really was there to heckle Howard. He was so arrogant and cocky before the presentation, ignoring my advice. So I wanted to be there to witness his failure and to tell him ‘I told you so’ before he swanned off with one of his many girlfriends.”

Steve laughed, “Such a supportive family member, you are.” Natasha’s competitiveness and self-righteous streak was amusing to say the least.

“I do what I can,” she shrugged.

Talking to her made Steve felt a little bit better about his current situation. Day after day, everything he set out to do seemed to end up with him falling flat on his face or mocked by his fellow recruits. What was his path after this? What would he be resigned to do if he didn’t become the candidate for Project Rebirth.

“I don’t know what I’m doing here, Natasha. I thought I knew, but everyday I just seem to...fail. To disappoint everyone around me. I joined because I wanted to serve my country, but now I’m wondering if maybe they were right to reject me after all.”

Natasha’s touch on his shoulder soothed him, as did her words, “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Steve. I’ve seen other men, men who are larger than you, who flake out not even two weeks into the training. You’re strong, Steve, more resilient and braver than any of the other men they ever chose for this project. Don’t give up just yet.”

“Thanks, Natasha.” Steve tentatively reached up to place his hand on Natasha’s hand still on his shoulder. The brilliant smile on Natasha’s face indicated that his touch was more than welcomed.

“I’m rooting for you, Steve,” Natasha squeezed his shoulder, and started to get up from her seat to leave, “Good night, soldier, you have an early day tomorrow.”

“Good night.” and with one last glance to him, she walked away into the night. Steve felt a thousand times lighter, the heavy burden he carried when he walked out of the barracks before seemed to disappear. Natasha’s magical touch must have something to do with it, and the fact that Natasha entrusted that guarded part of herself, showed her healing ability to Steve, it meant the world to Steve.

He fell asleep that night dreaming of warm smile and even warmer touches, soothing and healing the dark and deep recesses of his soul.

--------

It became sort of a ritual after that. Or rather, in Steve’s mind, a standing date for the two of them. Every night, Steve would go out to the balcony before lights out and Natasha with her trusty journal would be sitting there, waiting for him. They would talk until time ran out, exchanging stories and their deepest thought, meeting again the next day to continue their conversation.

Steve found himself opening up to Natasha, in a way he never did with anyone else before. He told her things he never told a soul, like how hard it was for him to grow up in poverty. He told Natasha of the time he got hand me down shoes from the Church to wear. It was too big for him so he had to put crumpled up newspaper inside to make it fit better.

Natasha, in turn, told him how she grew up. A child prodigy born from scientist parents, she was educated at an early age, how she was sent away for school by her parents and graduated university at 14 years old. She told him how cold his parents were.

“I used to think that they didn’t want me. That I was a monkey wrench, thrown in to disrupt their lifelong plan for research. Because why else would they send me away?”

Steve made a concerned noise and placed his hand on Natasha’s in a gesture of comfort. Natasha shot him an appreciative look, “At least that’s what I used to think.”

“What made you change your mind?”

Natasha sighed, “I haven’t been honest with you, Steve. I’m not who I say I am. My name is not Natasha Stark. My real name is Natasha Scholl, my parents were Nazi scientists. They were murdered by Johann Schmidt, the head of HYDRA, for refusing to allow HYDRA to use their research for warmongering purposes.”

That was not what Steve expected. Natasha’s parents were Nazis. Or at least worked for them. How did Natasha fit in to this? How did she felt about all of it?

“Do you think differently of me now?”

“I-- this is a lot to take in. But no, Natasha. You’re still you.” Steve finally answered, Natasha shot him a grateful smile.

“I am curious though. What do you think about all of this?” he gestured vaguely, hoping Natasha understood what he meant.

“What do I think about Jews, you mean?” Steve nodded, grateful that she caught on to his question. “I have no problems with Jews, Steve. I haven’t lived in Germany since I was 4 years old. I don’t share the same sentiments my fellow countrymen do, not their authoritarian tendencies nor their hatred of the others. My parents sent me to America for schooling and after I graduated I just never left. When Hitler rose power and all the insanity started to happen around him, nobody in Germany ever thought anything like this could happen. My parents, they kept telling me, there was nothing to worry about. Until I received a letter informing me they were dead. A car accident.”

She paused then continued on, “At least that’s what they wanted me to believe. I went home to bury them, and as I was sorting through their stuff I found my father’s journal. He wrote in it that Johann Schmidt had paid him a visit. He was interested in the energy stabilizer he had designed. One that Schmidt thought would be able to harness the energy and the power of something called the Tesseract.”  

“The Tesseract?” Steve asked.

“Schmidt might be a scientist. But he also believed in the existence of magic. He believed magic espoused science, which was beyond ridiculous.” Natasha rolled her eyes mockingly, “In Norse mythology, the Tesseract was a magical stone capable of bending the fabrics of space. It’s basically a great ball of unlimited, sustainable energy. He believed what my father worked on would enable him to house the Tesseract and harness its power, which would win him the war. My father refused to give him permission believing that absolute power in anyone’s hands corrupts. Two weeks after Schmidt’s visit, he and mother died in a ‘car accident’”. Natasha’s tone made it clear that she didn’t believe the accident was an accident.

“I went to their lab at the Research institute to find every piece of equipment had been seized by the SS. No doubt, Schmidt and his head scientist, Arnim Zola, are hard at work trying to reconstruct what my father made. To be used in the event that they find the Tesseract.”

Steve was speechless. The story of Natasha’s life was arduous beyond belief. What she went through, finding out the truth behind the death of her parents, must be harrowing. He squeezed Natasha’s hand, willing her to know that she wasn’t alone anymore. Steve would be there for her, always. Natasha turn her hand and slotted their hands together, holding on tighter.

“When I realized what they’d done I left Germany, and went into hiding in the United States. I met Howard when we were both at MIT. He agreed to help me change my identity, to use his last name as my own and he expedited my asylum application on the condition that I join the SSR. I figured why not? This way I could help with the war effort and avenge my parents’ death in one fell swoop.” Natasha took a deep breath and looked at Steve, “What they seized from my father’s lab was an incomplete design. It is still capable to do what Schmidt wants it to do, just not as efficiently as he would like it to be. He will realize this sooner or later.”

“What-- Natasha, what are you saying?” Steve asked in trepidation.

“I’ve been working on perfecting my father’s design.” She looked down, gaze transfixed on the journal on her lap, “and I’m close. Once Schmidt realizes the folly of his own equipment, he will come for me. Of that I have no doubts.”

“No.” Steve said fervently, “I won’t let that happen, Natasha.” he seized her shoulders, holding it tight in his grip as if Natasha would be spirited away from him if he loosen his grip, “No matter what happens to me by the end of this training, I would find a way to protect you. I promise you.”

Natasha smiled softly at him, “Thank you, Steve. Nobody has ever been so kind to me before.”

“I fell for you from the moment I saw you. I-- I would have done anything for you then, and I would do anything for you now. I know I don’t have much to offer you. I’m a poor orphan with nothing to my name but a sketchbook, a pencil and some graphite. But I promise you, Natasha, I will do anything in my power to keep you safe, to make you feel loved. You’re not alone in this world anymore, my darling.”

“Oh, Steve,” Natasha reached for him and placed her hands, her warm healing hands, on Steve’s cheeks, “I feel the same way. I was never one to believe in fanciful things like love and affection. But then I saw you, so brave and resolute in your convictions to serve, to be the best man you can be despite what everyone else said. Steve, there was never a chance of me not falling for you.”

Steve leaned forward, Natasha’s warm hands still held his face. Natasha leaned closer to him and the moment their lips touched, he felt complete for the first time in his life. His first kiss with Natasha, his first kiss with anyone for that matter, would be the only kiss that would matter for the rest of his life. She tasted sweet, like candy, and a hint of bitterness from the coffee Steve saw her drinking so often. Her lips were so soft against his, pliant and open for him to explore, to pour all the love he couldn’t put into words yet. To make her feel all of Steve’s love.

When they parted, Steve was panting slightly. Natasha had a soft teasing smile on her face, and Steve braced himself for whatever cheeky quip she was bound to say next, “Took your breath away, did it?”

Steve chuckled and pulled her closer to him and she rested her head on his shoulders, wrapping her arms around his skinny waist. Steve pressed a kiss on her mop of messy brown hair, reveling in the scent that was uniquely Natasha.

“I love you,” he whispered to her. Natasha tightened her hold on him in response and tilted her head up at him, her smile mischievous.

“He shall never know I love him: and that, not because he's handsome, but because he's more myself than I am.”

Steve groaned at the quote, “Really, Natasha? Wuthering Heights?” Natasha’s laughter rang through the balcony, a balm to his weary soul. Once her laughter subsided, she looked at him again and said, “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you, Steve. And I never will again.”

They stay wrapped up in each other long after the call for lights out, nothing else in this world matter but the other’s presence. Natasha was his, and Steve was hers. These truths were self-evident from this point forward.

--------

“Pick up the pace, ladies! Let’s go! Double time! Come on! Faster! Faster! Move! Move!” Sergeant Duffy yelled at them as they jogged to the flagpole where he was yelling at the from. Steve wondered what the sergeant did to have such amazing lung capacity.  

“Squad, halt!” he screeched. Once Steve and his fellow recruits came to a stop in front of him he pointed at the flag atop the pole, “That flag means we’re only at the halfway point. First man to bring it to me gets a ride back with Agent Carter and Miss Stark. Move, move!”

The other recruits immediately started to scramble to climb up the flagpole. “Come on! Get up there!” Steve stayed to the side, observing the situation, nothing that there was no hooks or hitches on the post that would enable anyone to climb up and grab the flag. There was only one solution.

“If that’s all you got, this army’s in trouble! Get up there, Hodge! Come on! Get up there! Nobody’s got that flag in 17 years!” Sergeant Duffy bellowed again. Despite his encouragements nobody managed to climb up and grab the flag. “Fall back into line! Come on, fall in! Let’s go! Get back into formation! Rogers! I said fall in!”

Natasha lifted her head up from where she was focused scribbling another mathematical formula on her journal as Sergeant Duffy mentioned Steve’s name. Steve seemed to be staying off to the side, off formation, contemplating the flagpole in front of him. In a stroke of genius, the man pulled the pin holding the pole aloft causing it to fall to the ground, where he easily grabbed the flag to give to Duffy. “Thank you, Sir.” Steve said politely then hopped on the jeep to sit next to Natasha.

The other soldier looked on, dumbfounded at what just occurred. Natasha felt a huge dopey smile on her face, but she couldn’t seem to care one way or another about it. Steve nodded at her and Peggy as he situated himself on the back of the Jeep. Once Peggy’s back was turned, Natasha smiled at him, pleased at the slight blush that creeped on Steve’s cheeks.

“Good job, soldier.” she whispered to him, nudging his booted feet with her own. The bashful smile and replying nudge Steve gave her in response became the highlight of her day.

--------

“Faster, ladies! Come on. My grandmother has more life in her, God rest her soul. Move it!” Peggy was putting the recruits through their calisthenics routine, making them do push ups. Natasha, off to the side of the field, with Erskine and Phillips, watched the recruits being through their paces and Steve, in particular, struggling to keep up.

It was such a painful sight for Natasha to watch. Steve struggling just take a simple lungful of oxygen tore at her heart. Especially when she knew that Steve’s ailments were too much for her to heal by herself. Healing all of Steve’s illnesses would definitely drain her of her energy, if not outright kill her, and it would most likely only be a temporary fix. Soon, though, Steve wouldn’t feel pain any longer. He would be healthy. He would be strong. He would the pinnacle of physical perfection. Erskine’s formula would see to that.  

“You’re not really thinking about picking Rogers, are you?” Phillips asked Dr. Erskine.

“I am more than just thinking about it. He is the clear choice.”

“When you brought a ninety-pound asthmatic onto my army base, I let it slide. I thought, what the hell? Maybe he’ll be useful to you, like a gerbil.” Natasha shot the older man a dirty look at the gerbil comment. If anyone was a gerbil, it was any of the recruits other than her Steve who only knew what to do as they were told, obligingly and unquestioningly obeying orders without thinking what was asked of them, unlike Steve who clearly had amazing strategic and planning skills. Steve who was clearly the perfect and only candidate to be the first super soldier. “I never thought you’d pick him.”

Phillips continued, “You stick a needle in that kids arm and it’s gonna go right through him.” Peggy was now making them do jumping jacks, “Look at that. He’s making me cry.”

Erskine sighed at Phillips’ clear disapproval of his and Natasha’s choice, “I am looking for qualities beyond the physical.”

“Do you know how long it took to set up this project? All the groveling I had to do in front of Senator What’s-His-Name’s committees?”

“Yes, I know. I am well aware of your efforts.”

“Then throw me a bone. Hodge passed every test we gave him. He’s big, he’s fast, he obeys orders. He’s a soldier.” Phillips pointed at Hodge, the big man who had no trouble bullying and assaulting men in his own company. Natasha sneered at the thought of giving the serum to someone like Hodge. Honestly, they didn’t need another Johann Schmidt.

“He’s a bully.” Erskine simply said.

“You don’t win wars with niceness, doctor. You win war with guts.”

“Then test them.” Natasha chimed in. She walked over to the two men, grabbed a grenade and effortlessly disarmed it. “Let’s see which one of them has more guts. The ninety-pound asthmatic, or the big, fast, soldier?” Natasha offered the dummy grenade to Phillips, eyebrow raised in challenge at the Army colonel.

Phillips took the grenade from her and tossed it to the middle of the recruits’ training ground, “Grenade!”

The recruits made a mad dash, scrambling to get away from the grenade tossed in their midst. All but one that was. Steve jumped on top of the grenade, covering it with his body, shouting at other people to get back, to stay away.

Natasha let out a gust of breath she didn’t realize she was holding back as she waited for Steve’s reaction. She was betting on Steve to be the self-sacrificing man she came to knew him as, and this display of courage seemed to seal the deal in Phillips’ mind. The man still scowled at Steve’s skinny body, on the ground, covering a dummy grenade.

Innocently, Steve looked up at them and asked, “Is this a test?”

Dr. Erskine looked smug, as smug as he could be, while Phillips grumpily muttered “He’s still skinny.” and walked away from them.

Steve looked back and forth from Dr. Erskine to Natasha, confused and bewildered at what just happened. Somebody threw a grenade to the ground as a test, or what? He still didn’t understand, but he must have done something right if the small smile Dr. Erskine flashed him before he walked away was anything to go by. Natasha remained standing where she was, winking his way before walking away in the direction Dr. Erskine went to. Steve still had no idea what just transpired, but if it made Natasha smiled his way, then he must have done something good, right?

--------

He was left alone now. All the other recruits dispersed and transferred to other units once Dr. Erskine announced that Steve would be the man for the job. The good doctor came earlier that night to give him something of a pep talk, telling him how Schmidt, the same man who killed Natasha’s parents, injected himself with the incomplete supersoldier serum, messing up his whole body in consequence.

Dr. Erskine made him promise to not go down the same road Schmidt did. To stay the same man he was today, to not be a perfect soldier but a good man, the man he was and the man he would always tried to be.

Natasha was on his mind again. He hadn’t seen her for the rest of the day, other than earlier this afternoon with the dummy grenade on the training ground. She had made herself scarce, cooped up in her workshop. Steve wanted to see her again, if anything happened tomorrow he needed to see her one last time when he still could. Once he made up his mind to go over to her workshop, a knock sounded from the door.

“Hi,” Natasha entered the empty barracks, “can’t sleep?”

Steve shook his head, “I was just about to go to you. I wanted to see you.” Steve held out his hand for Natasha to take in hers. She did and sat down next to him, her hands rubbed up and down his arm, the soreness from when he landed on them earlier dissipating.

“Here I am. How are you feeling? Nervous?”

“No. Yeah, I guess, a little. Like I’m about to take a big test the next day, you know.”

Natasha chuckled, “In a way, you are. It’s just that the outcome of this test depends on whether you make it out alive with all of your faculties intact or not, not from getting a passing grade.”

“Thanks, Tasha.” Steve scoffed, “you’re very good at comforting people.”

She kissed his cheek, “And yet you love me just the same.”

“I truly do.” Steve turned his head to kiss her, reveling in her presence. “I’m glad I get to see you now. I want to see you one last time like this, just the way I am, so that your last memories of me would be happy ones.”

“You speak as if you’re certain the procedure tomorrow would end in failure,” Natasha scowled, “No, Steve, that’s not going to happen. Howard and I made the Vita Ray machine ourselves, and while I don’t know what it’s in the serum, I’m certain of Erskine’s brilliance. He’s the best there is. By this time tomorrow, you will be the world’s first super soldier. Our hope in turning the tides of war around on the Axis.” Natasha told him, “and you will still be my Steve.”

“Yes. Yours.” Steve kissed her again, “always.”

They broke apart after a few moments spent kissing, “I have to tell you something,” Natasha started, “I’m shipping out tomorrow.”

Steve startled at the unexpected information, “Shipping out-- where?”

“Bletchley Park. SSR’s loaning me to MI6. They need help with the Enigma decoding project over there. Turing’s getting on everybody’s last nerves, apparently.” Natasha chuckled, trying to lighten up the mood.

“England. Will you be safe out there? Schmidt is…”

“I’ll be far away in the British Isle. Far from the fighting in the European mainland. And my involvement in the Enigma project will be classified at the highest level. Need-to-know basis. There will be no public records of my involvement there. Not for at least another fifty years.”

Somewhat reassured for Natasha’s safety, Steve nodded, “I wish I could go with you. Keep you safe.”

“We both have our duties, soldier. Yours is to stay here and be a transformed to the peak of human perfection and mine is to toil away behind computers and machines. Different approaches, same goal. Just like a marriage, yes?”

God, how Steve wished they could get married. But perhaps that’s a topic for another day for them.

“Indeed,” he said simply, pulling Natasha closer to him and leaning his forehead against hers. “Stay the night. If this is the last time we’ll see each other in awhile, then I want to be with you until we have to say goodbye.”

“I will write to you, Steve. I will write to you everyday. This won’t be a permanent goodbye, we will see each other again. We’ll find a way.” Natasha assured him, pleading for him to believe with her warm brown eyes.

“Of course, darling. We’ll find a way.”

They stayed together all through the night. Talking, ostensibly planning a future together. In a world where the war was over and they were free to just be with each other with no baggage, no need to continuously look over one shoulder for a HYDRA assassin. They stayed together until they fell asleep, Steve holding Natasha in his arms and thinking how he could stand to fall asleep like this everyday, with his arms around the woman he loves.

When he woke up the next morning, Natasha was gone. In her stead, the amber pendant necklace was placed on the pillow next to Steve, a piece of paper tied up around the necklace. When Steve unfolded it, Natasha’s neat script read, “I’ll come back to you.” Steve kept the note and the necklace on his person throughout the whole procedure and when he ran through the streets of Brooklyn on the trails of a HYDRA assassin. In his haste to jump in and catch him, he destroyed the note, smudging the letters until it was illegible.

But it was of no great concern. He still has another piece, a more concrete piece of Natasha, with him at all times. The amber pendant now rested next to his dog tags, where it would remain for the rest of his days.