A Bolt from the Blue

Chapter 8

Steve and Bucky had officially become members of S.H.I.E.L.D. for two weeks, and Steve had been trying to casually get information from Natasha for nearly just as long. But Natasha had been tenacious and unbreakable, deflecting any question that was getting too personal slickly and craftily.

"So...do you have...any family around here?"

"Depends on what you call family," she had answered with a smirk.

"But surely you have people you care about, don't you?"

"Why Rogers? Eager to know if you're on that list?"

Or also.

"Where are you from?"

"You know, here and there. I have lived in so many different places, I have had so many aliases that home is both everywhere and nowhere."

"But you're Russian, aren't you?"

"I was for a while," she had said with a slightly amused look.

"And your parents? Your family? All Russians?"

"You know, I don't exactly have a family tree on a wall of my apartment."

"So it isn't completely impossible that someone from your family was American?"

"And they say life is not full of surprises," she had concluded ironically.

"I give up for now," Steve sighed as he let himself fall down in the chair at the refectory right across Bucky, who was eating his lunch. No further explanation was needed, he knew immediately what Steve was talking about.

"You can't give up!" he said.

Steve shook his head, looking at the strange meal his best friend was having, a combination of lasagne, French fries, coleslaw, and onion rings. Bucky was unstoppable and eager to catch up on all the seventy years of cuisine he had missed. "She's a hard shell."

Bucky's look turned serious. "Leave her to me," he said determinedly. "I'll crack that hard shell of hers."

Steve furrowed his brows. "Why does it sound like a bad idea?" he feigned to muse.

Bucky pointed a firm finger at him while holding his fork. "You want your information –and hell I want it too— so just let me handle this. You just stay quiet and watch."

Steve agreed, mildly curious about the approach his friend would use, but mostly confident it would be a beautiful disaster. The next day, Director Fury was holding a meeting. At the end of it, he sent Steve, Bucky, and Natasha on a reconnaissance mission.

The three of them were now getting prepared on the jet flying them to the location. This was the moment Bucky chose to start his own reconnaissance mission.

"So Romanoff," he started casually but with a tone of voice that failed to conceal his determination.

"Barnes," she answered casually as she checked the magazine was full then swiftly slid it back into her gun.

"How long have you been in the U.S for?"

"A while," she answered concisely and with an obvious lack of interest.

Bucky nodded and an apparent pout showed on his face. Steve, sitting by the side, shot him an expressive glance.

"And did you leave your family in Russia?" he inquired again fuelled by the desire to prove his best friend's glance wrong.

Natasha remained mute an extra second more than she normally would. "My family history is pretty common and boring, Sergeant."

"Okay, so you won't mind sharing it, then," he answered back with a shrug and an arched eyebrow.