A/N: I wanted to see what BuckyNat would look like in the MCU if they don't go the route of a shared Red Room past, and this is what came out :) It's a bit long, but I'll update every day. Enjoy! Chapter titles from my all-time favorite song, A Sorta Fairytale by Tori Amos. Please read and review!

On my way up north, up on the Ventura

"Tell me if that's too tight," she purred, smirking to herself at the angry glare Dumont shot her. Ignoring his muffled protests, she pulled the ropes snug around him and his chair. He wouldn't be calling his superiors any time soon, and wouldn't bother her while she worked on his computer.

After surveying her handiwork, her attention turned away from the HYDRA lackey and to what he'd been working on instead. It was never a good idea to read intel while in the field, so she tore her attention away from the words on the screen and inserted a flash drive. After some maneuvering around the security put in place, she was able to download the relevant data.

"I'll let someone know you're tied up," she told Dumont, patting his head and easily dodging his attempt to head-butt her. "Careful, there. I'd hate for you to fall and be stuck on your face until one of your friends come to visit." The warning in her tone was clear and he contented himself with a nasty glare. Smiling wanly, she turned away and headed out of the facility.

There were guards to dodge and workers to avoid, but it was an office building, so she wasn't overly worried. Rather than her tac suit, her dress was business casual to blend in well enough with the innocent bystanders. Not that they were likely innocent, of course. The whole place was a front; chances were, everyone was in on it. Though perhaps unwillingly, she supposed as she smiled politely at a dark-haired woman in a suit who was frowning at her.

"Good morning," Natasha said.

Slowly, the woman forced a smile in response. "How are you?" she asked in that way people did when they didn't want an answer.

Despite the fact that her trademark red hair was covered by a blond wig, it looked like she might be recognized after all. That made sense – it was getting harder and harder to do a job without that risk. Being an Avenger was great, but going under cover was almost out of the question. She enjoyed it, though, and, when Fury asked for help, well… How could she say no?

She made it to the parking garage without incident, though a little more rushed than she would have preferred. A quick scan showed that her car had not been tampered with in her absence, and she felt a measure of relief when she pulled out onto the street and joined the rest of the city traffic. Still, it was wise to wait until reaching the relative safety of the highway before reporting in to say it had been a success.

"This is Hill," Maria answered as she always did, though she sounded more distracted than usual.

"Romanoff. Tell Fury I have the package."

"Anything to report?"

Natasha considered briefly, not expecting the question. "No, nothing out of the ordinary. Why?"

Maria took a deep breath. "Have you been briefed on Rogers?"

That was an odd question; of course she had been, but not for years. "What's going on?"

"Rogers and Barnes were following a lead in Germany. They split up."

Natasha snorted; soldiering was clearly a different game from espionage.

Maria's grim smile was obvious in her tone as she continued. "Rogers ended up in Argentina, and we lost contact with Barnes."

"And since I'm in France, you thought I could just head over to Germany and find him," Natasha finished.

"Rogers wanted me to ask; it's going to take him a day or two to get back, and he's – well, you know how he gets."

"I do. Which is why we hadn't cleared Barnes for solo missions," she muttered. "Send me what you can and I'll see what I can do. Tell Fury I'll get a digital copy to him as soon as I have access," she added.

"I will. Thank you, Nat."

Sighing, she changed course.

Maria's information on where Barnes had been and what he'd been doing was quite useful. All Natasha had to do was follow his steps – and not fall into the same trap. The second part was going to be harder than the first, and she couldn't expect that her higher level of experience would save her. The more direct mindset of a soldier was what Steve knew, and his best friend no doubt followed his suit in the field. But Barnes had been a world-class assassin for decades. It was certainly possible that he was better at this than she was, even accounting for the fact that it had been only around five years out of cryo for him.

Her search led her through the seedier parts of East Berlin, through Potsdam, and up to a facility on the coast near Kiel. Not many people fit Barnes' description, even if he managed to keep his metal arm from being noticed, so there were only a few false leads to slow her down. She'd managed to get to the suspicious-looking facility within thirty-six hours of being given this mission. There was no doubt in her mind that Barnes had entered the place, and there was no sign that he'd left it.

From what she could tell, it had been used during the Second World War and not since then. Which meant it had probably been taken over by an intelligence agency that didn't want to advertise its presence. That didn't necessarily mean HYDRA, of course, but the fact that Barnes had last been sighted in this area made it more likely. No one had seen him returning this way, and it wasn't as though he swam away from here. So finding a captive Winter Soldier was probably the next stage. She would just have to hope that the ruins of HYDRA wouldn't have had the time or resources to turn Barnes back into their weapon.

She waited for cover of darkness, wearing her black tac suit and as well-armed as she could manage: Widow's Bites, Stingers, two pistols, night vision goggles, a garrote. Hopefully enough to get in and bust Barnes out. To be safe, she'd called Maria and been informed that Steve was only six hours behind her. So, if she got herself caught, she would just have to hope the bad guys didn't do anything too terrible before Captain America rescued her.

Getting inside was easier than it should have been, and she moved cautiously through the cold darkness. It was cramped; older buildings tended to be, and certainly seemed abandoned. After searching around for half an hour (she hadn't been able to find any reliable schematics beforehand), she began to think maybe this was a dead end. It was only two stories, and the top floor had clearly not been used in decades. The ground floor was not as untouched, but there was no evidence that Barnes (or anyone else) had been here in the last few days.

Feeling discouraged, she considered HYDRA's penchant for secret doors and took to searching the ground floor more carefully. A little voice in the back of her head reminded her that Barnes should have left some evidence of his presence if this was where he had gone. But perhaps he'd found a different entrance, she reasoned. Or they could have disguised his trail after they caught him. In any case, she wasn't going to give up now and let Steve down. He was one of the few people whom she trusted, and, anyway, she hated to disappoint.

An office in the middle of the southwest corridor had a dusty rug on the floor. The dust had not been disturbed, but a corner of the rug was turned over. She felt along the wall by that corner, tapping and listening. A smile grew on her face – there was space behind it to echo the sound. After a few moments, she found the latch and pulled back the wall to find a staircase. She was in. In what, she didn't know, but she paused to send Maria a text about her discovery. No sense making Steve do the same legwork to follow her.

She charged her Widow's Bites as she made her way down the stairs, listening hard. The silence was palpable, and there was a light up ahead. It was dim, but it easy to make out in the darkness. She decided to keep her goggles on until she got closer, even if at the risk of being blinded if the light flashed suddenly. There were too many unknown variables here and she wasn't going to give up seeing what was close by until she had to.

The hallway was brick, definitely old, with the occasional sconce for a torch. A few had bits of rotting wood in them still, but many were empty. No doors came off of the corridor, which was both a relief and a cause for concern. It meant she didn't have to reconsider her trajectory, but it also meant she'd be easily shot if she had to run down this to escape – no place to hide.

After what she estimated to be twenty meters, the hallway she'd been following opened onto a large room. She calculated that it was likely no longer under the building above, and looked dubiously out across the empty space. There was no sign of what this room had been, for it contained only dust. A dozen hallways led off of it, though, and she frowned. One, across from hers, was the one with light. Figuring it had gotten her this far, she headed in that direction.

Her footsteps echoed as she crossed the emptiness despite her precautions and she was relieved to arrive at the new hallway on the other side. Even if it was starting to feel a little claustrophobic. The light was bright enough now that she could make out the floor, so she pushed her goggles onto her forehead. This corridor looked no different from the last, though it was shorter. It also had no doors coming off of it, a fact that was starting to get to her.

Voices ahead made her freeze in her tracks as she considered her options. The distinct sound of flesh striking flesh was followed by a short laugh, which painted the picture of Barnes being captive with only one guard. There would have been more laughs if there were more people, most likely, but she wasn't going to bank on that interpretation. It was also quite possible that the people ahead had nothing to do with Captain America's best friend.

She slinked forward silently, soon being aware of pacing footsteps echoing faintly off the walls. When the corridor was about to open into a room, she pressed her back against the wall and took a deep breath as she drew her weapon. Then she jumped out.

There was more than one guard. But she shot all three of them (not fatally) before they could do more than gape at her in surprise. The room was a sort of office with a row of holding cells behind it. She checked each man to determine if the threat was neutralized before heading for the cells. A familiar face stared levelly at her from behind a curtain of brown hair, one cheek redder where he'd been slapped, and she smiled.

"Hello, James."

"Natalia."