WASHINGTON D.C.
2014

SITTING before the National Security Council with two dozen cameras and tens of photographers zeroed in on her was enough to make June want to vomit. Her body twitched with the urge to hide from the world that was watching so eagerly to witness the final judgments of the country's newest vigilantes, one of which had been considered a hero not two years before.

Somehow, Natasha's presence was reassuring. June let the Black Widow handle most of the council's questions, admiring the quiet unabashedness she held about her.

Most of June's thoughts lingered on Bucky, for distant reasons she could not fathom and did not care to. His eyes stayed with her, no matter what she did to forget them. But June had never before forgotten Barnes' gaze, and doubted sincerely she ever would. A chill had settled at the base of her spine, her mind foggy and unresponsive to the buzzing courtroom.

"Agent Romanoff," continued Investigator Bernard Scudder, a gaunt-faced, sunken-eyed man sitting stiffly at the head of the ring of representatives, "you should know that there are some on this committee who feel, given your service record both for this country and against it, that you belong in a penitentiary. Not mouthing off on Capitol Hill. And you, Miss Ivanski," his attention turned suddenly to June, who flinched slightly at the accusation in his tone. "You're an agent for the FBI, and still you seemed to have neglected to consider the consequences of your actions. Not only did you operate without authorization to instigate the arrest of a murderous Hydra terrorist, you had a direct hand in causing both domestic and institutional destruction. Please, give us one reason why we should not throw the both of you, along with Captain Rogers and Mr. Wilson, into a high-security detention center?"

There was a brief silence before Natasha lifted her chin and met Scudder's gaze. "You're not gonna put me in a prison. You're not going to put any of us in a prison. You know why?"

Scudder scoffed. "Do enlighten us."

"Because you need us," Natasha said at once, clearly and boldly. "Yes, the world is a vulnerable place, and yes, we helped make it that way. But we're also the ones best qualified to defend it," her pink lips tilted. "So if you want to arrest us, arrest us. You'll know where we are."

Scudder narrowed his eyes, and his focus shifted to June. "Romanoff has very apparently made her point. Do you have anything to add?"

June lifted her eyes, chest tight, limbs numb. "I think if you're willing to accept lies to ensure comfort, we're not the people who should be on trial," she pronounced cautiously. "But if you feel safer with us locked up . . . I think Natasha made herself very clear."

In her peripheral, June saw Nat looking at her, but she ignored the stare. The council kept their eyes on June as well, and for many uncomfortable moments no one said a word. Finally, bored with the tense inactivity, Natasha shrugged, and rose abruptly from her seat. Shakily, June did the same, and followed the cat-eyed assassin through a swarm of shouting journalists and wild photographers, out of the courthouse altogether.

• • •

IT was not until she and Natasha were safely shut within the latter's corvette did June allow herself to breathe.

The A/C fanned pleasantly over her face, and the quiet hum of the car engine reminded her of the first time she had ever sat in the passenger's seat. That day seemed so long ago.

"So you released all of Hydra's files, huh?" June asked the fiery-haired agent anxiously after a long interval of silence.

Natasha drummed her fingers on the wheel, and June noticed a thin file resting on her lap. "Mhm. Don't worry—I didn't see anything about you."

June's blood became ice. "H-How . . . how did you know—?"

"Fury briefed me before I dragged you into this," Natasha interjected, almost guiltily. "If there's anything you want to talk about, I'm, um . . . I'm in no place to judge. You can trust me."

June drew a knee to her chest, pressing her lips tightly together. In the next moment, she was telling Natasha everything. About Hydra, her humble enhancements, everything she had revealed to Steve. Through June's rambling, Natasha did not interrupt. She listened loyally, occasionally raising an eyebrow, or nodding slowly to assure she was attentive. When June broke off, Natasha allowed a moment of quiet.

She sighed softly. "Who else knows?"

"Steve," June said.

"That's it?"

"Yes."

Nat blinked and took a deep breath. "No one's got a flawless record, June, especially not in this business."

June lowered her gaze. "I know. But I'm not a part of your business."

Natasha wagged her eyebrows, accelerating the corvette's speed slightly. "Doesn't mean you can't ever be."

"I'm not an Avenger, Romanoff."

Natasha suddenly softened, her shoulders relaxing, the natural hostility retreating from her stature. Her lips twitched sadly. "Sometimes that's not what the world needs."

• • •

THEY pulled up along a curb parallel to a quaint cemetery. June's eyes flitted over the clean rows of decorated tombstones and grave markers, lingering on a trio of individuals who appeared like they were attempting to look inconspicuous, but certainly did not. As she and Natasha left the corvette and stepped up a low incline towards the three, boots sinking into the thick grass and damp earth, they were able to catch a brief silver of their conversation.

" . . .  Alright then," Nick Fury sighed heavily. As June approached nearer to the former S.H.I.E.L.D. director, she noticed his eyepatch had been replaced by a pair of dark sunglasses, dim civilian garb in place of a leather trench coat. It was odd seeing him so normalized. He looked thinner, but steadier on his feet and with the same aloofness about him. The two men that stood with him were Sam and Steve. Fury shook their hands.

"Anybody asks for me," Fury went on, "tell them they can find me right here." He eyed a gravestone at his feet, one bearing an epitaph in honor of the late Nicholas J. Fury, whose tragic death remained unexplained. Like a shadow shifting under the sun, Fury was gone moments later, and June did not expect to ever see him again.

"You should be honored," Natasha called as she and June came upon Steve and Sam. "That's about as close as he gets to saying thank you."

Steve turned to her voice. "Not going with him?"

Natasha shook her head, smiling dismissively. "No."

"Not staying here?" Steve pressed.

Nat took in a deep breath. "I blew all my covers. I gotta go figure out a new one."

"That might take a while . . ."

Natasha grinned. "I'm counting on it. By the way, that thing you asked for," she handed him the file June had seen earlier. "I called in a few favors from Kiev . . . but be careful, Steve," the grin faded, "you might not want to pull on that thread."

Steve neglected to respond verbally. Rather, he smiled faintly as Natasha moved to kiss him on the cheek, leaning down slightly so she could better reach him.

"See you around, Rogers," Nat said, lips curving as she stepped back and looked to June. "You need a ride back home?"

"Actually," Steve cut in. "June, can I talk to you for a second?"

She lifted her eyebrows, caught slightly off-guard. "Uh, yeah . . ."

Natasha's eyes swept between the two. "I'll leave you to it," she turned away, calmly placing a hand on June's shoulder before she departed. "You're a good agent, Ivanski," she murmured. "But there's more to you. Remember that."

And like a whisper of smoke, the Black Widow left them.

"I'll miss her," June said quietly as she watched Natasha go.

Steve shook his head. "She never stays gone for long."

"What's in that file?"

Steve shrugged, gaze fixated on the open folder he held tightly. "Everything they've done to him," he said vaguely, but June understood. She caught a glimpse of a tattered photograph of James Barnes, but it was not of any James Barnes she knew. This photo depicted the likeness of a smiling young man, clean-shaven and uniformed in formal olive military garb, a broad-rimmed cap hiding dark hair cropped close to his head. June scowled. He was handsome.

"You wanted to talk?" she asked Steve, her voice steady in a deliberate attempt to stifle her curiosity.

"I did, yeah," Steve shoved his hands in his pockets. "I know you live by yourself, and speaking from personal experience, I know how lonely that can be," he sighed. "I've gotta track Bucky down, June. I have to. But I don't think I want to leave my apartment empty for that long . . . . Would you mind keeping an eye on it for me?"

"Steve," June chuckled. "Are you asking me to move in with you?"

"I suppose I am," he grinned, slightly embarrassed.

"Well, if I'd known you would be this forward, I never would have kissed you," she joked, crossing her arms over her chest. "Is this really for the sake of your apartment?"

Steve gave a half-smile. "I'll stop by pretty often . . ." he considered her for a moment. "I don't want you to be alone."

June was stunned. Such simple words should not have struck her so, yet the sudden realization that dawned upon her left her stupefied. Steve cared. He cared about her wellbeing. It had been so long since anyone had regarded her as anything more than an employee, or an agent. Her chest swelled with gratitude and a conflation of positive emotions she hardly recognized, and a pleased, genuine smile pulled her lips.

"Thanks," June whispered, somehow unable to express her immense indebtedness.

"So, is that a yes?" Steve prompted her gently, searching her face expectantly.

"It is," June chuckled airily. "This . . . means a lot to me. Really."

Steve pressed something cool and metal and small into her palm. "Spare key," he explained, "for whenever you're ready."

"Thanks," she repeated.

"So," a deep voice broke in, and for the first time since June had arrived, Sam spoke. "You're really going after him?"

Steve dipped his head solemnly. "You don't have to come with me."

"I know," Sam shrugged insouciantly, eying June coolly. "When do we start?"

• • •

prepare for the wigs to be snatched. So there is one more addition to part one and then we get on to part two, and let me just say, it's gonna be rough... but super cute so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯