A Bolt from the Blue

Chapter 18

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The punching bag shook violently under Steve's punches, with nothing but the sound of his hits echoing into S.H.I.E.L.D's gym.

"Easy there," he heard a husky voice call from a distance. His muscles froze at the familiarity of it.

Natasha walked across the room, dressed in civilian clothes, the shadow of a smirk already playing on her lips. Steve paused, taking on the sight coming toward him. He hadn't seen her in nearly a week since she had popped into his office to give him the address of the little German boy in the picture, and in all honesty, it felt she had been gone for longer than what it really was. His eyes lingered on every feature of her face and memorized every detail, trying to quiet down this irrational fear that he might have forgotten the perfection of them. And, as he did so, he felt progressively enveloped by an inexplicable wave of quietude at the realization she was back in his vicinity.

"How was your mission?" he asked to make conversation. They both knew it was just an informal question that would not get a real answer.

"Nothing thrilling," she answered evasively with a shrug.

He nodded softly then resumed hitting the bag.

"How'd you find me?" he asked between two punches.

"Bucky told me what happened earlier so I assumed you'd feel like taking it out on a harmless punching bag," she answered as she approached. She stopped and stood next to the bag, facing him. She then leaned forward, turned her head and peeked at the punching bag hanging before him. "Oh," she said teasingly, keeping her gaze on it. "I was expecting to find a colored picture of Fury pinned to it."

She shifted back to her initial position and smiled.

"I'm visualizing it just as fine in my mind. Call me eco-friendly."

It raised a mischievous smirk to her lips.

"Fury has his good days. I guess today wasn't one of them."

Her comment irked him more than it would normally have in other circumstances. He paused and looked at her inquisitively.

"Was it you?" he asked as he recalled that Natasha was and remained one of Fury's agents if not one of his closest. "Did you tell him I was working on this old investigation?"

Her smirk didn't fade but it took a different shade.

"Uh-uh," she shook her head. "You know I'm on your side on this one. I want to find out who that spy nearly just as bad as you."

He looked at her silently.

"And I'm going to give this blow a pass. I reckon my Black Widow reputation always precedes me." She said it matter-of-factly, without a hint of reproach, although it seemed he caught sight of a formless, hardly noticeable bitterness.

This was enough to make him angry at himself.

"Sorry," he said as he felt the urge to blow off more steam than before and punched the bag hard. "It wasn't intended."

"I know," she answered quietly. "And besides, you are wise not to fully trust me."

She smirked playfully again unaware that these simple words crushed him deep inside. He wanted to tell her that all of him wanted to trust her fully and blindingly in spite of her job, of her persona and of her reputation, that he yearned to put all prejudices and facts aside and see her as Natasha only. Not Black Widow, not the S.H.I.E.L.D agent, not the spy. Just Natasha.

But he kept all these words in and let out a sigh heavy with regret instead.

"So how did it go with the German?" she asked. "Was he any helpful?"