In Love Once, Maybe

He had been in love once.

    Maybe.

    He still wasn’t sure what was real, and what wasn’t. After living almost seventy years under the control of Hydra, he had found it was a slow arduous process on trying to find a way through the webs. He knew that he had once been called James “Bucky” Barnes and his best friend had been Steve Rogers AKA Captain America. He knew that he had been a ladies man before his “death” – which had taken place when he had fallen from a train…hand reaching for Steve’s for help.

    “What is your name?”

    “Natalia.”

    “And what is your mission Natalia?”

    “To kill you.”

    He stood up from the white couch that he was sitting on in the hotel room that he hadn’t paid for. The curtains were drawn to reveal the glittering city of Manhattan that was bustling with chaotic energy. He crossed his arms, the skin of his right arm becoming chilled as the metal of his left arm touched it. It had been more than six months since the fiasco that had been the Hydra and S.H.I.E.L.D. war. He ran a hand through his hair absently. He was almost bored. Almost. He couldn’t remember ever relaxing and being able to just stand and look out the window without trying to figure out if the weather would affect his shot.

    “Why haven’t you killed me yet?”

    “Who says I haven’t? You could be poisoned.”

    “I’m sure. Because that is your style.”

    “How do you know what my style is?”

    “They don’t call you Black Widow for nothing.”

    “And I can’t change up how I kill people?”

    “You can. But neither do I think that you make friends with your targets.”

    “You know nothing about me.”

    “No, but I wish I did.”

    He sat back down on the couch and picked up the iPad that he had nicked from a civilian. Turning it on, the screen showed the YouTube video titled “Assassin Avenger Shuts Protests Down W/ a Smirk”. He had watched it numerous times, studying her face. She was familiar, had been that day that he had seen her on the bridge but it hadn’t been as present or as forceful. But as time passed by, he slowly started to realize that he knew her. Somehow, he knew the Black Widow.

    That was when the dreams started.

    The dreams of a woman with red hair and pale skin.

    Lips against his. Hot skin. Sweat.

    The barrel of a gun.

“James! You don’t have to do this!”
“I am not James. I will not fall for your tricks Widow.”

“This is not a trick, James. I promise. It is not.”

“Prove it.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“We had to keep it a secret, James. From Hydra and KGB, but I’m not lying.”

“That is your skill set!”

“It isn’t a lie that I think I have feelings for you.”

“Enough Widow. You and I both know that isn’t true.”

“It is.”

“It is not! Love is for children.”

Love is for children…

Love is for those who can love.

Those who aren’t monsters.

    He stared down at the screen where a picture had come up from when the Chitauri had invaded New York in 2012. There was Natalia, her body blurred and twisting in a graceful way that looked like a ballerina dancer, yet he knew that her beautiful body was actually her strongest and deadliest weapon. And next to her was Steve. His heart throbbed at the sight.

    What else had he lost when he had been Hydra’s pet?