Part I: She's Been Everybody Else's Girl, Maybe Someday She'll Be Her Own

And, As I Twist, I Hold Tight

In Berlin, Germany, Sharon Carter was finally going home after a long day. She unlocked the door of her apartment, then froze. Something was different – she wasn't sure what, but she knew it was something. Pulling out her weapon, she made her way slowly through the doorway, looking hard into the darkness.

A lamp switched on, and Natasha Romanoff could be seen sitting comfortably in the best chair in her living room. "Hello, nurse," the Black Widow said with a smile.

"Romanoff? What are you doing here?" Sharon replied curtly, shutting the door quickly behind her and holstering her weapon.

"Agent 13. I'd heard of you, you know, back then. Didn't expect you to be the nurse Steve was crushing on," Natasha continued.

The statement caused Sharon to color ever so slightly, and Natasha grinned – which did nothing to relax Sharon. "What do you want? I haven't seen Steve since they escaped."

"Really? Because I seem to remember he and Sam having some contraband that definitely didn't leave our custody when the Winter Soldier did."

Sharon folded her arms over her chest and looked appraisingly at Natasha. "The cameras were down and we were all a little distracted. Who's to say they didn't fetch their gear before escaping?"

"Well, Steve escaped by falling off the roof with a helicopter, so I think that's unlikely," Natasha replied smoothly, standing up.

"What about Wilson? No idea how he got out. Or what he did before he left," Sharon added, adopting a casual stance that Natasha could see through immediately.

Raising an eyebrow appraisingly, Natasha walked closer and looked her up and down. "I hope you're a better liar on the job. You must be, if you still work here," she corrected herself.

"I wasn't expecting company," Sharon replied, and Natasha laughed.

"I try to be unexpected. It's good practice."

"Yes," Sharon agreed slowly, watching the other agent. "Is this a social call or – ?"

Smiling faintly at the suggestion, Natasha made her way toward the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water nonchalantly. "Steve was with you when you came here after Director Carter's funeral in London. Were you helping him the whole time?"

"Why are you asking?"

"Answer the question, Sharon," Natasha ordered tiredly. Technically, she did outrank the other woman, even if such things were no longer relevant.

Sharon frowned at her. "They would have killed Barnes. I was just giving him a chance."

"For Steve?"

"For justice."

Smiling again, Natasha took a drink and watched the other woman shift slightly. "You got a soft spot for Barnes? Sending Steve to save his life and all."

"Only met him once and he tried to kill me, so, no, not really."

"That does put a damper on a relationship," Natasha agreed with a bitter twist of her lips. "But Steve. You seem to get along with him, whether or not you pulled strings for him."

"Is that what this is about? You're jealous?" Sharon asked archly.

Natasha laughed out loud at that. "Not at all," she assured her.

"Wilson, then? He's cute. Can't mean Stark, though."

Clearing her throat, Natasha hid a smile and got to the point. "None of that is relevant. Steve shares your passion for justice, so I'm sure you'll be very happy together. That's not why I'm here."