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Natasha's eyes swept over the New York skyline, a content smile playing on her lips. The cup of coffee in her hands had gone cold, only half-empty though it was. Obnoxious jingly music was playing somewhere in the background, most likely coming from one of the shops in the busy street below. Natasha hadn't cared to check.Snow had been falling gently since she got there, muffling out her footprints to the point where only a skilled tracker would be able to find her. For a moment her eyes lingered on the sun's play on the ice crystals of the snow in front of her, then she sighed and got to her feet.The familiar sound of snow crunching under her boots gave her a sense of control – a sense of existing.As she reached the edge of the roof, the wind from below lifted her hair into a crown swirling around her head. Holding out her hand with the coffee-cup, she glanced at the little people moving about in the street. Then she let go, and the cup fell a few feet, before it was carried off by the wind. She didn't bother to feel guilty. 
(The snow glows white on the mountain tonight

Not a footprint to be seen.

A kingdom of isolation,

and it looks like I'm the Queen)
 ”Should a respected superhero really be littering like that?” a familiar voice asked behind her, and she barely surpressed a shudder. Not a lot of people could creep up on her like that. Her barely tamed inner child wanted to hiss at her fellow ex-assasin for scaring her while at the edge of a roof, but life had taught her to play it cool.”Should a feared assassin really care?” she shot back, turning around to face the Winter Soldier. Bucky smirked, but she saw it for what it was. A weak attempt to cover the grief inside.Good. He really needed to get through this self-important phase sooner or later. No better cure than a dash of sarcasm. (Or so Clint had taught her)  
(The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside

Couldn't keep it in;

Heaven knows I've tried)
 Natasha sat down in the spot she was standing, allowing her feet to dangle over the edge of the roof. The chilly wind tore at the fabric of her pants.”Come-on soldier, sit.” she said, patting the spot beside her. She was keenly aware of her exposed back and the long fall in front of her. In a certain sense she trusted the Winter Soldier. Trusted that she had some idea as to how he thought. Trusted that he had nothing to gain from befriending the one team-member least likely to overshare and least likely to actually become his friend – Only to kill her. It was simply too much effort for what could be a clean kill if he truly wanted her dead.It was also a game of sorts. A game of give and take where (perceived) trust was the currency. If she wanted Bucky to (act like) he trusted her, she needed to (act like) she trusted him. 
(Don't let them in,

don't let them see

Be the good girl you always have to be

Conceal, don't feel,

don't let them know

Well now they know)
 ”Well then, excuse me ma'am,” Bucky said, as he took his place beside her. Natasha smiled up at him for a moment.”If you've got vodka I'll forgive you,” she said, batting her eyelashes playfully. Bucky's grin widened. ”Well, as a matter of fact I do! And not any cheap sort either,” he ventured on, and pulled a bottle from somewhere within his oversized winter-coat. Natasha pulled it from his hands, appreciating the label.”Russian,” she commented.”Thought you'd appreciate that,” he smiled. 
(Let it go, let it go
Can't hold it back anymore) As the sun started to set, Natasha's bum had gotten more numb, her cheeks redder, and the bottle of vodka lay empty between them.Bucky had lain back in the snow, his cheeks flushed red, a little smile playing on his lips.”As a kid.. You know, as a kid, I used to make angels in the snow.. like this..” he started flapping his arms, and Natasha quickly caught the bottle before he could push it down to hurt anyone.She threw it a few feet away, where it landed neatly in the snow.”M-hmm..” she commented, recognizing his expression now, as one of nostalgia. She didn't have much in the way of childhood memories, and of those she had, she was never quite sure if they were real. She wasn't sure which of them was the lucky one.”Me and Steve.. we used to...” his voice trailed off, and she pulled her legs up, to better be able to turn towards him. He looked like any other drunk lost in a fond memory – slightly retarded, but in an endearing way. ”You know, Steve is still looking for you...” Natasha said, approaching the subject less subtly than she would have in a more sober state. ”I'm not with them anymore,” Bucky said definitively, and Natasha wasn't sure if he'd even heard her.”You know, it's funny.. You can go so many years without questioning shit.. And then one friendly face... And you know time's up.” he mused, kicking his legs like a child, as if he was demanding her attention. She put a hand on his leg, perhaps to show him she was listening – At this point she wasn't so sure herself. ”All those years...Trapped inside a.. I dunno...” he trailed off, staring into the distance.”A blizzard?” Natasha offered helpfully, not really sure where any of them were going with this conversation anymore. The situation smelled of trust, but she let it be, just like her hand.”Yeah man. Woman...lady, yeah.” Bucky suddenly sat up, so Natasha had to pull her hand back quickly for it not to end up in his crutch.His face was only inches from her's now, eyes a little crazed, as if he'd just seen some hidden truth behind all the lies of existence.”It's like the eye of the storm, ya know? Like everything around you is fucking crazy, and it all revolves around you really, all this crazy shit – But you're still calm as the fuckin' sea, 'cause.. that's what the.. you're the eye, man.”Natasha nodded along, though she had the feeling this was one of those conversations that would make less sense in the morning. “And maybe you're afraid of the storm.. Or maybe you don't even know the storm is something you can enter..something you can fight..” she supplemented, just as a chill wind blew past them. ”Yeah man, Natasha..” Bucky nodded, and even in her inebriated state Natasha took note of the fact that this was the first time he'd called her by name. ”But we did it, man. We entered the storm.” Bucky said, eyes so intensely locked with hers, she felt like brushing his hair out of his face and giving him the kiss of freedom. (Not the kiss of Death, not anymore.) But then he moved away, getting on all fours to face the edge. For a terrible moment she thought he might jump off, but then he shouted into the wind, at the top of his lungs: ”WE ENTERED THE STORM, MAN! WuuuuuUUUH!!” 
(Let it go, let it go

Turn away and slam the door

I don't care

what they're going to say

Let the storm rage on.

The cold never bothered me anyway)
 Natasha let out a playful howl, imitating the sound of a wolf to the best of her abilities, as she too shuffled over to stare into the swirl of snowflakes.”Hey, Natasha.. Look down. Look how small everyone looks, man. Kinda cute, ain't it?” Natasha looked at Bucky who was lying down now, staring down with an excited look in his eyes. She smiled fondly, and casually patted his hair, before she looked down as well. He was right. From this distance the people didn't just look less frightening, they also looked more.. vulnearable. Like they really did need her protection. Maybe she did know how to care about people's lifes after all. Maybe she didn't have to only protect this city because those were her orders. 
( It's funny how some distance

Makes everything seem small

And the fears that once controlled me

Can't get to me at all)
 ”So are you coming back with me?” Natasha asked bluntly – too soon, she knew it. But she wanted him to. She thought Steve might need him to. Bucky shook his head, and she tried not to let her disappointment show. “Not yet,” he said, sounding somehow more sober than mere moments ago.”I need to.. I think I need to figure out who I am... before anyone can start telling me who I am or should be.. again. Even if the person they want me to be is an honorable man.” 
(It's time to see what I can do

To test the limits and break through

No right, no wrong, no rules for me,

I'm free!)
 Natasha nodded. She knew he was right. His situation was not like hers. She had needed to be taught about goodness and fairness as she had never known anything but darkness. For her the freedom came secondary, it built slowly over the years as she learned to contrast what either authority had tried to fill her head with, and it was a precious thing.Sometimes she still felt like she was only nursing this morality in choice through it's hesitant baby-steps. Losing Shield to Hydra had felt like being a babybird thrust out of it's nest before having learnt to fly properly.Well, she hadn't fallen down yet, had she? 
(Let it go, let it go

I am one with the wind and sky

Let it go, let it go

You'll never see me cry

Here I stand

And here I'll stay

Let the storm rage on)
 ”You're very brave,” she said, a little surprised by her own admission. ”I'm impressed you decided to get out on your own.” she patted his frosty hair once more, then got to her feet, swaying a little with the wind.Bucky got up as well, and when he grabbed her hand it felt like the most natural thing in the world. She squeezed back, as if afraid he would let go. ”Well, I did get a little help from some friends,” he said, and they both smiled at the memory of kicking ass. 
(My power flurries through the air into the ground

My soul is spiraling in frozen fractals all around

And one thought crystallizes like an icy blast

I'm never going back, the past is in the past)
  ”So has this been a Christmas thing?” Bucky asked, and looked towards Natasha with a smile playing on his lips.”Has what been a Christmas thing? Downing vodka, swearing at the Motherland?” she asked, expertly raising one eyebrow.  
(Let it go, let it go

And I'll rise like the break of dawn

Let it go, let it go

That perfect girl is gone

Here I stand

In the light of day

Let the storm rage on)
 Bucky grinned and pulled her back from the edge, with him.”Yeah, something like that.” he smiled and she couldn't help but smile back. ”Merry Christmas, Barnes.”  
(The cold never bothered me anyway!)

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