Just a reminder that this story is set post-Winter Soldier, but in an alternate time-line where the films proceeding Winter Soldier do not take place. And I will be exploring a Steve/Natasha ship. Please no-one attack me for this. Also, I should warn you that I won't be able to post frequently as I am working on other stories, but I will update whenever I'm able.

Forgive any possible OOC's in this chapter - this is my first Marvel story.

DISCLAIMER: Mine? No, Marvel came up with the idea before me. Money? Nope. Don't be ridiculous.

Enjoy!

As Natasha's hands caressed her mug of hot chocolate, her eyes constantly roamed the Cafe. She momentarily glanced at her reflection in a nearby glass that an old, rather refined lady was holding elegantly in her hand. Good, she mentally complimented herself. She didn't even recognize herself. She had cut her hair to a pixie cut and dyed it a medium natural blonde and was wearing blue eye contacts. She had also bought - by stealing someone's credit card - a special lotion that would change the colour of her skin, and also applied meshing tape that made her ears appear smaller than they actually were and when applied to her face, would make her cheekbones more pronounced. She would have just used a Photostatic Veil, but couldn't obtain one once she went on the run. She had only been able to get one after she started working for S.H.I.E.L.D, which was no longer in service. Plus, she didn't dare show her face anywhere near anything S.H.I.E.L.D-related after it crashed and burned along with Hydra, though she suspected there were Hydra sleeper cells hiding out there somewhere.

"Ma'am, are you alright?"

A young, sweet voice shattered her wandering thoughts. Looking up with a pretend smile, her smile faltered slightly when she saw who it was.

The waiter who had served her before.

He hadn't done anything - in fact, she could tell he was an open and honest person, extremely sweet - but it was who he had facial similarities to.

Rogers.

She felt heat creeping up into her cheeks and frowned slightly. Why did she seem to suddenly hold her breath whenever she saw someone who reminded her of Rogers? Even seeing his face plastered all over the news caused her breath to catch. She suddenly remembered the concerned man infront of her.

"Uh...yeah. Just...lost in thought, I guess," Natasha replied. Damn! I'm losing my touch.

He nodded, his eyes seemingly cutting through her. "Well, if you need anything, anything at all, just call me over," he told her.

She chuckled. "You're sweet," she replied. He smiled and went back to serving other customers. After watching him leave, she then took a sip of her hot chocolate. Well done. She then stood up and exited the cafe, leaving her barely-drunk drink at her table, and headed down the street to go back to her temporary apartment. Crossing a street, Natasha happened to notice a forest green Lotus Evora car. Nice. Have to keep that in mind when I need transport to leave.

The street was pretty crowded. As she maneuvered her way through the ocean of people, she sensed someone watching her. Eyes were boring into her. Hmm. Passing a jewellery store, Natasha stopped and retraced her steps, now standing infront of the jewellery store window. Pretending to be carefully studying the jewellery on display, her eyes surreptitiously roaming the area, trying to work out who was watching her and where.

A dark-skinned hooded male, about early twenties, possibly late twenties with a cigar in his mouth passed her and stopped at a nearby trash receptacle and took out his cigar, exhaling some smoke and dumped it in the receptacle. She caught him glance at her for a millisecond. A millisecond and then...

"Wilson?" she mouthed, still staring at the store's window. He almost imperceptibly nodded, raising a finger to his mouth.

Shh.

He then turned and walked away, disappearing into the rush. She turned and quickly followed after him. She didn't want to lose him. In fact, she was surprised at the sudden need she felt to be with someone she knew. Someone who wasn't one of her enemies. But still, one burning question bothered her as she saw Sam Wilson's retreating back disappear into an alleyway.

How did he track her down?