Summary: Police Captain Steve Rogers runs one of the best detective agencies in New York. His wife, ballerina Natasha Romanova-Rogers, dances for the New York City Ballet company. It's not uncommon to see one of them at the other's workplace, though some coworkers are more problematic than others. One day when Natasha goes to visit Steve, she's pulled aside by said coworker and things don't go as smoothly as they could have.

It was always nearly impossible to find parking anywhere remotely near the precinct no matter what time of day it was.  The streets were lined with cars or taxis waiting to be hailed, so on the rare days Natasha did drive herself to Steve's office, she had to park about four blocks away in a parking garage.  She didn't mind the walk (it was just about as far as the nearest subway station, just more work) unless it was stormy out.  Then she did tend to hail a cab the few blocks to the precinct just to avoid risking a cold.  At the moment, though, it was sunny and warm out, so as she walked from the subway to the precinct, she could enjoy it rather than race to get inside.

"I'm only a block away,"  she told Steve over the phone.  She could see the precinct building just ahead.  If the sidewalk wasn't so crowded, she could get there in about a minute.  "I'm stuck behind a group of slow tourists," she told him in Russian, not wanting to accidentally offend the people in front of her even if they were moving at a snail's pace.  "Give me five minutes and I'll be there."

"Alright.  See you soon,"  Steve said.  She could practically hear the smile in his voice as he said it.  He'd been stuck late at the office working a tough case with Sam and Bucky and she'd been busy with pas de deux practices, so they hadn't had an afternoon to themselves in a while.  Even if he was stuck at work for another four hours, Natasha had been able to stop by so they could at least see each other while the sun was still out (and she had every intention of staying there until he was ready to leave himself).

By the time Natasha was stepping through the doors of the precinct, she was having a hard time not rushing upstairs to Steve's office.  Instead, she checked in at the front with Laura who just waved her through after a short conversation.  As she walked onto the elevator, she could faintly hear Laura calling up to Steve's office to let him know she was on her way.  A second later, her phone buzzed and she smiled down at the heart eyes emoji Steve had texted her.  After showing him and downloading the emoji keyboard onto his phone, Steve had started using the little emojis on nearly every text he sent her (though most of them were just hearts, heart eyes, or the kissy face).

Natasha was still looking down at her phone, a little irritated with the text she'd received from her dance partner about potentially practicing tomorrow morning when the elevator doors opened.  She sent her partner a short text about being busy all-day tomorrow and ran smack into one of the detectives she hadn't noticed.  She managed to keep hold of her phone and not completely fall over, letting out a surprised yelp.

"Sorry, Natasha!"  Sam exclaimed, steadying her and nearly dropping his files in the process.  He grinned and she smiled back.  "Long time no see.  Cap is anxiously waiting in his office even though he's trying to be covert."

"Thanks, Sam,"  Natasha laughed.  He nodded at her then stepped around her to deliver his files.  Natasha stuffed her phone in her dance bag seeing as her leggings had no pockets then started towards Steve's office.  She was intercepted a second later, but this time it was by a not-so-friendly face.

"Nat, hey, just the person I wanted to see,"  Brock Rumlow exclaimed happily.  She pursed her lips and glanced ahead at Steve's office.  "I saw this article the other day and I'm pretty sure you were on the front page.  I just printed it off after finding out you were stopping by; come on and I'll show it to you."

"I'm busy right now, Rumlow,"  Natasha said, trying to step around him.  Rumlow just grabbed her arm and gently pulled her toward the copy room.

"It'll only take a few seconds,"  he promised, tugging her down the hall.  "I was going to take it to the Captain myself, but since you're here, you can just take it."

At this point, Natasha figured it would be quicker to just say 'yes', grab the papers, then leave.  She sighed and let him guide her down the hall to the copy room.  He opened the door for her and she walked over to the printer to gather up the papers he'd printed only to discover the printer was empty.  She opened her mouth to tell him there was nothing there but was roughly shoved against the wall.  Rumlow stood in front of her, using his body to hold her against the wall.

"Rumlow, let me go,"  she growled, shoving him back harshly.  He grabbed both her wrists in one hand and with the other, he pressed a gun into her ribs.  She sucked in a breath and he nodded slowly.

"Here's how this is gonna go,"  he said softly, towering over her and pressing the gun into her ribs harder.  "If you make a sound or tell anyone this happened, I'll shoot you."

"We're in the middle of a police precinct,"  Natasha hissed, glancing at the closed door.  It was a small room, completely enclosed with no windows.  The narrow glass window in the door had been strategically covered and she could see the lock had been twisted.  How had she not hear him locking the door behind her?

"And I've disabled the one security camera in here,"  Rumlow replied.  She grimaced as his gun dug into her ribs painfully, trying to shift away from the pressure.  "Have I made myself clear?"

"You wouldn't shoot me."

"Wouldn't I?"  Rumlow asked, a wicked gleam in his eye.  Natasha knew Rumlow had a streak of police brutality and wasn't above shooting innocent people if they tried to get away.  She remembered Steve coming home late multiple nights only to tell her Rumlow had shot someone again or used excessive force and he'd been stuck to deal with the fallout.

As if recognising Natasha's realisation, Rumlow nodded and pressed ever closer to her.  She turned her head away, but he still managed to twist around and kiss her aggressively.  His tongue pushed against her lips, but she refused to let him get through.  He bit her lip and she inhaled sharply but didn't part her lips.  Rumlow growled and the hand he was using to hold her wrists let go so he could reach up and grab one of her breasts.  He squeezed hard and she yelped at the pain, giving him the space he needed to shove his tongue into her mouth and nearly choke her.

Rumlow seemed to be pleased with the reaction he'd gotten from her and kept his hand securely on her breast.  Natasha tried to twist and turn away but was unsuccessful as he would squeeze her breast hard if she started to slip out of his grip.  She was so distracted by the pain of her chest and the aggressive kissing she didn't hear the door unlock.

* * * * *

Steve knew something was wrong when Natasha hadn't arrived in his office a few minutes after Laura's call.  He stepped out of his office and glanced around the room, hoping to spot her teasing Sam or bullying Bucky in Russian.  Instead, he found Bucky working peacefully at his desk and Sam returning from another detective's desk.  Sam frowned at Steve and stopped in front of him, asking him where Natasha was.

"I don't know,"  was Steve's intelligent reply.  Sam's frowned deepened and Bucky looked up from his desk nearby.

"I just saw her like a minute ago,"  Sam said as if that could explain where she was.  "She was heading to your office."

"Well, she never made it."

"Natasha?"  Bucky asked.  Steve and Sam nodded at him.  "She went to the copy room.  Rumlow printed off some article that had her photo on the front page or something."

Even more confused, Steve walked down the hall to the copy room.  He could feel Sam and Bucky watching him until he turned the corner and stopped short when he realised there was paper blocking the window into the room.  He slowly walked toward the door, not wanting to walk in on another two of his detectives making out, but not fully comfortable walking away.  He tried the handle but it was locked.  Even more suspicious, he unlocked it and slowly opened the door.  When he saw Rumlow nearly on top of Natasha, one hand covering one of her breasts and the other hidden by his jacket, he threw the door the rest of the way open and didn't feel the slightest bit bad when it scared them both.

"Captain,"  Rumlow greeted with a sly grin.  Natasha's eyes widened and she scrambled to escape Rumlow's grip.  He let her go after a bit of a struggle and Steve managed to see the gun that had been in the hand he hadn't seen before.

"What the hell are you doing?"  Steve demanded, glaring fiercely at Rumlow.  Natasha rushed to his side, trying and struggling to explain herself.  Steve didn't need an explanation to know she hadn't been a willing participant; he wouldn't have believed it even if she had said she wanted it, the gun just confirmed the fact she'd been forced into complying.

"Steve, I didn't—He wouldn't let me—Please don't be mad,"  she begged.  Steve continued to glare over her head at Rumlow, waiting for his detective to put his gun away.  "Let me explain, please."

"It's exactly what it looks like,"  Rumlow told Steve, daring Natasha to contradict him.  She was nearly in tears as she looked from Rumlow to Steve, arguing with herself over what to do.  On the one hand, she had no doubt Rumlow would keep to his word and shoot her.  On the other hand, Steve was right there.  Rumlow wouldn't shoot her with him so close, right?

"Steve,"  she whispered, silently begging him to believe her.  He finally stopped glaring at Rumlow and looked down at her softly, pulling her close to him.  She melted into his touch and he peppered her head in kisses.

"Nat, what happened?"  he asked quietly.  Natasha pulled back, lacing her fingers with Steve's and glancing over her shoulder at Rumlow.  He was still holding his gun, but he was holding it at his side.

"He forced me to,"  she told him, looking back up at Steve.  "He locked the doors and threatened to shoot me.  I swear I didn't let him."

"I know,"  Steve assured her.  He opened his mouth to say something else, but his eyes widened at something over her shoulder.  Natasha twisted around to fully face Rumlow just in time to see him raising his gun.  Steve tried to push her away, but Rumlow anticipated this and shot her three times.

Steve watched in slow motion as Natasha's hands flew to her abdomen and she dropped to her knees.  Rumlow darted around him as Steve rushed to Natasha's side, kneeling down beside her.  Red was beginning to soak the t-shirt she was wearing, covering her abdomen until he almost couldn't tell what colour the shirt was originally.  Thankfully, all the bullets had hit her stomach instead of her chest.  Unfortunately, all of them were still inside her stomach as there didn't appear to be exit wounds on her back.

"Natasha, talk to me,"  he begged, keeping her upright.  She was breathing heavily as her hands gently touched the bloody mess of her abdomen.

"What's going on?"  she whispered, looking up from her stomach to Steve.  Recognising she was in shock, Steve tugged off his jacket and used it to stem the blood flow.  He told her to press on the sweater hard and gently scooped her up.  She inhaled sharply and Steve looked down to see sweat starting to form on her forehead.

"Hey, hey, look at me,"  Steve told her.  She struggled to focus on his face and Steve began to panic.  In his rush to get her to the nearest hospital, he nearly ran into Sam in the hallway.

"What the hell happened?"  Sam demanded, falling into step beside Steve and awkwardly twisting to put pressure on the jacket covering Natasha's stomach.  "We heard the gunshot and saw Rumlow run.  Bucky jumped him before he could get away."

"He shot Natasha,"  Steve said, forgoing the elevator to run down the stairs instead.  Sam had to release his hold on the sweater to keep from falling down the stairs.

"We figured,"  Sam grumbled.  He steered Steve into his patrol car and started the engine before either of them put on their seatbelts.  He turned on the sirens and sped down the street.

Steve sat with Natasha on his lap, keeping the pressure on the jacket he'd covered her stomach with even as it began to get soaked with blood.  Sam didn't bother distracting him as he weaved in and out of traffic dangerously, narrowly avoiding multiple crashes.  When he finally skidded to a halt outside the hospital emergency room, Natasha wasn't responding to Steve's desperate calls for her to talk to him.  She was staring at him, visibly in pain and still conscious, but not responding verbally.

"I'll get the doctors,"  Sam said, jumping out of the car and racing inside, furiously calling for help.  As Steve lifted Natasha out of the car, she groaned in pain and Steve whimpered.  They were met halfway by a gurney and a crew of doctors.  Steve set Natasha down and followed the doctors until they wouldn't let him.  Sam had to hold him back as a nurse explained no one but medical professionals were allowed in the operating room no matter if they were the Captain of a police precinct or the President.

"Come on, man,"  Sam said, gently guiding Steve away from the operating room.  Steve whimpered pathetically but didn't fight Sam.  When they got to two seats, Steve collapsed into one of them and broke down.  Sam didn't even try to convince him to keep moving and sat down beside him.  He let Steve cry until he couldn't anymore, comforting him to the best of his abilities.

"Do you think she'll be okay?"  Steve whispered suddenly.  Sam looked up from his phone where he'd been updating Bucky and receiving updates about Rumlow's interrogation.

"Yeah, man,"  Sam assured him, setting aside his phone.  "She's tough.  She grew up in the Russian Siberia; she's not gonna let a couple of bullets to the stomach by an idiot stop her."

"But what if she doesn't make it?"  Steve asked, staring down at his hands in horror.  They were still covered in Natasha's blood as Sam hadn't managed to convince Steve to wash his hands before his breakdown.

"She will,"  Sam promised.  Steve just sighed and dropped his head down to his chest, letting Sam return to his conversation with Bucky.  While there was only one eye-witness to the crime, Bucky was confident Rumlow wasn't getting away with violence this time and would kill Rumlow himself if he didn't get punished for everything he'd done.

* * * * *

When the doctors finally let Steve and Sam back to see Natasha, they could hardly keep from plowing him over.  The operation had been difficult and dangerous, but they'd managed and she would make a full recovery.  At least, it sounded like she would until the main doctor hesitated in his recount of the surgery.

"What's wrong?"  Steve asked anxiously.  The second he'd been allowed into Natasha's room, he'd wrapped both of his hands around one of hers and hadn't looked up from her sleeping form.  Now, though, he forced himself to look away to face the doctor.

"While we were able to save her life and prevent further internal damage,"  the doctor said, glancing at Natasha briefly,  "There was too much damage to her uterus and we were unable to fully repair it.  Unfortunately, Mrs. Rogers will be unable to have children in the future."

Steve looked down at Natasha, feeling even worse about the whole situation than he already did.  He had thoroughly convinced himself if he had met her downstairs like he'd first suggested, none of this would have happened.  Or perhaps if he had moved faster in pushing her aside.  Then again, she'd only been hit because Rumlow knew Steve would push Natasha away, so if he had just let her stay where she had been, she would have been perfectly fine.

Steve heard Sam thank and dismiss the doctor, promising to call if Natasha's state changed at all.  He didn't look up when Sam rested a hand on his shoulder and reassured him it wasn't his fault.  Steve brushed him off when he asked if he could do anything, keeping his attention on Natasha even when Sam sighed and sat in the chair on the other side of her bed.

The TV played softly in the background and it took Steve the entire report before he realised they were covering Natasha's shooting.  By the time he'd turned around furiously to turn off the TV, the news had changed and they were giving the weather report.  Steve took a deep breath to calm himself, forcing the news anchor's words out of his head.

"It is still unsure who fired the shot and if the Captain's wife will recover ."

Steve didn't need to hear that.  Natasha would be perfectly fine and Bucky was working his ass off to put Rumlow behind bars.  He didn't have to ask Sam for an update to know Bucky wouldn't leave the precinct until he was certain Rumlow was gone for good.

* * * * *

"Laura brought dinner,"  Sam announced from the doorway hours later.  Steve blinked, not having realised Sam had left the room.  He hadn't been aware of anything except the steady beeping of Natasha's heart monitor and his own morbid thoughts.

"You'll be happy to know the hospital is working hard to keep news reporters out,"  Laura said, stepping into the room.  Steve could smell the Chinese food she was carrying and was immediately reminded of the fact he hadn't eaten since breakfast early that morning.  "Clint is heading the security detail downstairs.  Tony is keeping the precinct on lockdown.  You'll be happy to know there's no information getting out about what happened or Natasha's condition."

"But they know something happened,"  Steve said bitterly, giving in to his hunger and turning to except a box of chow mein from Laura.

"To be fair, you weren't exactly subtle when leaving the precinct and arriving at the hospital,"  Laura defended.  Steve sighed and looked back at Natasha.  He was pretty sure she looked less pale, but that could just be his hopefulness clouding his judgment.  "How's she doing?  Did the doctors say anything?"  Laura asked, settling into the chair Sam had vacated earlier.

"She'll make a full recovery,"  Sam said.  Steve glared at his chow mein.  That wasn't true, but he didn't know how many people Natasha would want to know she could no longer have kids, so he kept it to himself.

"Good.  Everyone at the precinct will be happy to hear that."

Rumlow went unmentioned.  Laura didn't mention him or how Bucky was doing in piling evidence against him, but Steve could ask about that later.  For the moment, he just ate his chow mein and watched Natasha helplessly.

Laura and Sam chatted quietly, discussing something Steve didn't bother listening to.  He looked at only his food and Natasha the entire evening, only managing to get halfway through the chow mein before it got cold.  He only vaguely acknowledged Laura as she left, setting aside his cold chow mein in favour of holding Natasha's warm hand.  He was pretty sure she did look better and it wasn't just his eyes deceiving him.  Laura had commented on how she looked to be recovering already and Steve had just used that to confirm the fact he was not crazy.

"I'm gonna go check on the crew downstairs, maybe call Bucky and see how things are going,"  Sam announced, closing the blinds to Natasha's room.  It was dark outside and Steve was starting to get tired, but he was worried if he fell asleep, Natasha would have complications and he wouldn't be there to call for help.  "You think you'll be okay alone for fifteen minutes?"

"Yeah,"  Steve murmured, brushing his hands over Natasha's head.  He'd moved her to the edge of the bed and scooted his chair closer so that aside from climbing in beside her and curling around her, they couldn't be closer.  With her warm hand in his and her soft breaths beside his ear where he had laid his head on her shoulder, he struggled to stay awake.  He had just started to drift off when her breathing pattern changed.

She inhaled sharply and Steve bolted upright, terrified for a moment she would start to seizure.  When her eyes slowly opened and she moaned softly, Steve's eyes began to water and he could hardly control his relief.  As she opened her eyes to look up at him, a small smile spread across her face and her fingers twitched in his hand.  He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it softly before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her chapped lips.

"I'm so glad you're okay,"  Steve whispered, wiping at his face as tears began to trickle down his cheeks.  Her free hand reached up to cup his face and he brought one of his hands up to cover it.

"Of course I'm okay, lubof,"  she replied softly.  She gently brushed some tears from his cheeks and Steve buried his face in her chest.  "I'm okay, Steve."

"I wanted to kill him,"  Steve told her, his voice muffled by her body.  Natasha combed her fingers through his hair as he hugged her as tight as he dared.

"It's okay."

"No, you don't understand,"  Steve said, pulling away from her.  Natasha immediately missed his closeness and whined as he pulled away, making him worry he might have hurt her.  He pulled away faster, his eyes widening in horror as she quickly assured him he hadn't hurt her.

"I just want you to hold me,"  she said, almost inaudibly.  She rarely ever voiced her desire for physical affection, usually letting Steve decide when to cuddle (which happened often), so for her to tell him she wanted him close made it impossible for him to resist.  He immediately wrapped his arms around her again and carefully pulled her to him.

"There's something you need to know, Tasha,"  Steve said, running his fingers through her long red hair.  "The doctors, they weren't able to repair all the damage from the bullets."

"Scars are fine, Steve,"  Natasha assured him, hugging the arm that was over her chest.  He shook his head and pressed his lips to the side of her head as he thought about just how upset she was bound to be.  He knew he needed to be the one to tell her, though.  She wouldn't take it as well from a doctor and she deserved to know.

"They couldn't fix the damage to your uterus,"  he said softly.  She stilled and Steve internally sighed.  "They tried everything, Nat, they did, but there was too much damage.  You won't be able to have kids.  I'm so sorry, Natasha."  Steve buried his face in her shoulder and hugged her tighter.  She sucked in a deep breath, but Steve didn't pull away like he had last time.  He wasn't going to let her go now and he was hugging her upper body, far enough away to not hurt her injuries.

"Steve?"  she whispered after a few seconds.  Steve pulled his head up and looked at her.  Her own eyes were watery, but she wiped the tears away quickly.  "It's gonna be okay.  I'm gonna be okay.  Right?"

"Yes, yes, Natasha,"  Steve promised, kissing her cheek, forehead, between her eyebrows, and then beside her lips.  "You're gonna be okay.  I love you."  He was met by Natasha burying her face in his chest as best she could and immediately wrapped his arms back around her.  They would both be fine.