Chapter Text
She showed no outward acknowledgment of his presence behind her, just calmly unlocked the door and left it open enough for him to slip through.
"What is this place?"
"A dance studio. танцевальная студия." Getting no verbal response as she waited for him to close up behind her, she continued. "Also self-defense courses. I used to teach those, but as of late," she heaved a sigh, "I had to hire another instructor."
"You teach?" They had stopped abruptly at a closed door on which she placed her palm upon an innocuous-looking panel. It glowed blue, and the door lock clicked as she turned to him. "A way of paying debts." Her face told him nothing, eyes not even searching his like he would have expected from anyone else. "You can stay here if you'd like. I'll put your print into my system in the morning. This area is generally believed to be a storage closet, which it is as well." She moved aside, and he took the hint to move past her up the staircase in front of him.
A part of him had been expecting the room to be filled with armed personnel or his mission, waiting to take him into custody and the chair, or simply a cement cell with bars. Instead, he faced a sparsely furnished room with a metal frame bed and nightstand to match.
"That door connects to the bathroom and the rest of the apartment. It's on the same system as the door downstairs." She demonstrated this for him, walking into the next room and leaving him alone to inspect the new terrain.
--
Natalia pushed open the bathroom door with her shoulder and walked into the kitchen, mind more on where she had been than where she was going. Constantly evaluating situations was a significant part of her job and, like most people, she tended to bring her work home. No point in allowing second thoughts - any doubt would mean a fiery crash and the wrath of Steve Rogers upon her like the mighty fist of a god.
It wasn't the favors she had traded, the contacts she had used, or even letting him into one of her safe houses that she may have regretted for fractions of a second; it was simply that she let him into this safe house.
The moment ground had been broken for this building she had sworn to herself that she would only use it for helping those who couldn't help themselves, for those that needed an escape, and she reaffirmed that vow at the sight of any happiness from a child she had helped.
Natalia Romanova had done some good in the world. It wasn't as part of a strike team or a higher power directing her actions, but an idea of her very own that changed peoples' lives in an overt and positive way.
But if she was going to be honest with herself, that was one of the reasons she had overruled the logical thoughts in her head and brought him here. Bucky Barnes, or the Winter Soldier or whoever he wanted to be now, would do more harm to others and himself if he was out in the cold. Even worse would be simply stashing him in a cabin out in the middle of the woods. Humans instinctively banded together and above all else, Natalia knew that the man needed to learn how to be more human than the machine they had made him into.
It would be good for everyone involved if the Widow kept an eye on her web - this was who they needed her to be right now. Not just a friend or a good spy, but a protector, everything all at once. If Sam or Steve asked her anything she wouldn't outright lie - friends don't do that - but to protect this man she had taken into her safe space, she wouldn't tell the whole truth either.
And to protect those she had already sworn a promise to, well...
"I won't keep you caged, Soldier, but if anything happens to a child or instructor, I will kill you." Natalia looked down at the mug she had been sliding between her palms absentmindedly on the kitchen counter and picked it up, muttering, "And to hell with Steve Rogers."