Chapter Text
Natasha crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head to one side, scrutinizing the contents of her closet. She ran a hand over her face and let out a sigh of frustration.
“Hey, Weasel,” she called out into her bedroom and waited for the sound of Beauty and the Beast to pause.
Charlotte appeared after a moment in the doorway of the closet. “What's up?”
Nat held up two dresses. “Which do you think?” she asked, moving them back and forth like a balancing scale. “Black or red?” The dresses were fairly similar--the only difference being that the black was stretched with lace and offered long-sleeves, but both figure-hugging and hit her just above the knee and either would look great with the heels her sister-in-law had gifted her a week ago.
But Charlotte’s button nose wrinkled and she shook her head. “Neither. You need more sparkles.”
Natasha laughed. “More sparkles?” she repeated.
Her charge nodded enthusiastically. “Mmmhmm. Darcy said it’s sparkle season.”
She smiled and reached out to ruffle Charlotte’s already messy hair. “Did she now?” Since Thanksgiving, Charlotte had done nothing but talk about her and Steve’s new friend, Darcy, who taught baking classes and ran the busy little bakery a few blocks from dance class. And while there was a little part of Natasha who felt selfishly let down that she was no longer the only woman in Charlotte’s life, the rest of her couldn’t argue that it had been far too long since she’d seen either Steve or Charlotte this happy.
She put the dresses back into the closet and held out her hands. “Okay then, what’s sparkly enough to gain the Charlotte Rogers Stamp of Approval?”
Charlotte knew exactly where she was headed as she bee-lined for the back of Nat’s closet and unearthed a silver-sequined dress from behind a pile of bridesmaid dresses. It slipped easily off the hanger as she stretched up onto her toes to grab hold of one of the sleeves. “This one!” she declared, holding it up.
Natasha tilted her head to one side and accepted the dress. She held it up to herself and padded out into the bedroom to study her reflection. “You think?” she asked, meeting Charlotte’s gaze in the mirror.
Charlotte nodded eagerly. “And you can curl your hair and still wear those shoes,” she said, pointing to the box on the bed.
She smiled and tossed the dress on the bed next to the shoebox. “Alright, cutie,” she said with a sigh. “You win. Silver it is.” She pointed to her vanity. “Do me a favor and turn on my curling iron.”
“Can we make popcorn while it heats up?”
“Good plan,” Nat nodded once and offered her hand once Charlotte had clicked on the little button on the side of her curling wand.
“Can you curl my hair too?” Charlotte asked as they walked down the hallway to the small kitchen at the front of her apartment.
“I don’t know,” Nat teased, unable to resist wiggling her fingers against Charlotte’s neck. “Think you can hold still this time, wiggle worm?”
“I promise!” she squealed, trying unsuccessfully to squirm away.
Charlotte’s blonde hair curled easily around the wand and fell in soft waves around her heart-shaped face. She tilted her head toward the side on which Nat was currently working. “How come my hair doesn’t do this on its own?”
Natasha smirked. “Because life is unfair, baby girl,” she said with a shake of her head. “Sit up straight please.”
Charlotte acquiesced and slid another handful of popcorn into her mouth. “What’s the big deal about New Year’s Eve, anyway?” she asked after she’d finished her loud crunching.
“What do you mean?”
Charlotte moved her shoulders. “I mean it’s just another night, isn’t it? I don’t know why everyone makes such a fuss.”
“Because it’s fun,” Natasha reminded with a quiet laugh. “You get to get all dressed up--”
“In sparkles,” Charlotte interrupted with a grin.
“Apparently,” Nat smiled. “And you go out with your friends and celebrate all the good things that happened this year and wish for all the things you want to do next year and then at midnight you yell ‘Happy New Year’ and give out a whole bunch of kisses.”
Charlotte’s face twisted. “Even to strangers? That’s gross.”
Natasha laughed out loud and released another silky blonde curl from her fingers. “It’s not gross; it’s good luck. And you only kiss the people you know,” she corrected herself. “And only the people you like.”
“Who are you going to kiss?” Charlotte asked, eyeing her with curiosity.
Nat gave her another grin in the mirror. “I haven’t decided yet.” She glanced at the clock beside her bed. “What time is Bucky coming to get you?”
“Six on the dot,” Charlotte said. “We’re going to eat pizza and watch Barbie: Swan Lake and he said I can practice my nail paint on him.”
“Mm,” she nodded, suppressing a smile, imagining Bucky explaining his purple fingernails to his squadmates at the station. “Now that sounds like a fun night.”
“You can come too!” Charlotte insisted. “I bet he wouldn’t mind.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she said, grabbing the last chunk of hair and wrapping it around the curling wand. “Plus, I don’t want to crash your night. I know how much you like having the boys all to yourself.”
She moved her little shoulders again. “I don’t mind sharing if it’s you,” she said with another smile. “Or Darcy. Did I tell you Daddy and I took her skating yesterday? In the park? It was so much fun. And she made cookies that look like clocks for me and Uncle Bucky to eat every hour until midnight. I brought you some.” She pointed to the living room where her backpack had been tossed hours before.
“Thanks, peanut,” Nat said and placed a steadying hand on Charlotte’s shoulder. “Now stop wiggling. I’m almost done.”
“Can I wear your crown?” she asked suddenly, sitting up straight on the tufted stool.
Her eyes followed Charlotte’s to the tiara that hung on the corner of the mirror. Made of cheap plastic and too much glitter, it was usually only reserved for birthdays and nights of exceptional shenanigans. She shrugged. “Sure,” she released Charlotte’s last curl and swiped the tiara from its resting place. It looked far less silly on the head of a little girl than it usually looked on her. She watched Charlotte smile at her reflection. “Looks perfect,” Natasha declared and bent down to pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Just like you,” she added and gave Charlotte’s sides a good tickle.
Bucky was nothing if not punctual. Even when he was coming off a shift and had no business making promises like ‘six on the dot’ in holiday traffic. But there he was, knocking on her door at exactly six o’clock, making her wonder what witch he’d made a bargain with to achieve this kind of punctuality as Charlotte leapt from the couch and yanked open the door without a second thought.
“Uncle Bucky!” she cried, throwing out her arms excitedly.
“Lottie Bear!” he yelled, matching her enthusiasm as he bent and scooped her up and into his arms for a hug.
Smiling, Natasha rolled her eyes as she slid her foot into her remaining heel. “You’d think you hadn’t seen each other for months,” she commented lightly.
“Four whole days,” Bucky commented, not putting her down yet.
Charlotte nodded. “Feels like forever,” she said seriously before she threw her arms around his neck and gave him another hug. “I missed you.”
He smiled and hugged her back. “I missed you too, Butterbean. Now grab your bag and let’s get back to your house to get this party started.”
Natasha raised her eyebrows. “Not your house?” she asked casually. Not that she cared where he was taking Charlotte, she reminded herself. Not that Charlotte wouldn’t be completely safe and well-cared for no matter when they went.
Just curiosity.
Bucky shook his head. “Being bug-bombed,” he said with a grimace. “I’m crashing at Chez Rogers until the fumes are clear.”
“Just like the old days,” she mused, setting her foot on the ground and giving her dress one final adjustment. “Okay, Weasel,” she said, giving her hands a little clap. “Come give me a kiss, you won’t see me until next year.”
“Don’t say it like that,” Charlotte admonished as Bucky let her down to scurry over for a hug. “That sounds like it’s forever away.”
Natasha bent down and traded a quick hug and a quick kiss that transferred some red stain from her lips to Charlotte’s before she smiled. “Okay, I’ll see you soon. How about that?”
Charlotte nodded. “Much better.” Her hands went to the crown still on her head. “Oh, here, you should have this back.”
She waved the gesture away. “You can bring it back next time,” she said, adjusting it on her niece’s head. “Looks better on you anyway.”
Charlotte turned back to her escort as Nat stood up. “Uncle Bucky?” she asked expectantly. “Aren’t you going to tell Auntie Nat that she looks beautiful?”
Natasha squeaked a laugh of surprise as Bucky looked up from his phone and blanched. “Uh...yeah,” he said, giving her a once-over. “Yeah...she looks. Uh.”
Her eyes practically rolled on their own. “Don’t hurt yourself, Buck,” she said with a sigh.
“No, you do,” he fumbled. “You look...nice. Good.”
“Beautiful,” Charlotte corrected.
“Yeah,” he cleared his throat. “Beautiful,” he repeated before he looked back at Charlotte and smiled. “You’re right.”
Charlotte glanced back at Natasha and offered her a pleased grin. “I told you the sparkles were a good idea.”
“Come on, Lottie,” Bucky said, clearing his throat again. “Auntie Nat’s got big plans and we’ve got pizza to eat.”
“And Barbie: Swan Lake,” she reminded, crossing to the door to stand in front of him.
He sighed. “And Barbie: Swan Lake.”
“And I heard something about nail polish?” Natasha reminded, her hand on the door and a half-smile playing on her lips.
Bucky let out another resigned sigh. “I’m a weak man,” he said, shaking his head.
She let her smile widen as he dropped his hands onto Charlotte’s shoulders and gave her a little squeeze. “Well, since I won’t see you,” she drummed her fingers on the door, “happy new year.”
He smiled back. “Happy new year.”
A beat of silence passed over the trio before Charlotte glanced between them. “And now you kiss?” she asked dubiously.
Natasha felt that strange flash of nervousness again and she laughed, shaking her head. “What?”
Charlotte sighed. “I don’t know how it works. I thought it was good luck?”
“Only at midnight,” Bucky put in quickly and squeezed her shoulders again. “Come on, Princess. Let’s roll.”
“Goodnight, Auntie Nat!” Charlotte called as they started toward the stairs.
“Night, sweetheart,” she called back with a smile.
“Enjoy your party,” Bucky said with a final wave over his shoulder before she closed the door. She only had a moment to study the back of her door before her phone started buzzing with texts from her friends relaying party plans and pushing her interaction with Bucky Barnes safely out of her mind.
***
It was a little after two in the morning when Bucky heard the rattle of keys against the door. He bolted up from where he’d passed out on the couch--with pink and glittering nails--not long after Charlotte had gone to be right after midnight. He glanced at his watch with a frown of confusion and listened to the keys rattle in an unsuccessful attempt to open the door.
Steve and Darcy weren’t supposed to be coming back here tonight; if anything, they should have been headed back to Darcy’s apartment. He frowned again.
Unless something had happened on their date.
“Stupid keys,” he heard a muffled grumble on the other side of the door as he approached, and his confusion doubled.
He glanced out the side window for a moment before he unlocked the deadbolt and pulled open the heavy door. “Natasha?” he asked, disbelieving what he was seeing.
She looked up from where her keys were half-stuck in the door and tilted her head to one side. Her eyes narrowed in confusion as a dark red curl slipped into her face. “You got here fast,” she said with a half-smile before she bit her lip. “Did I already call you? Or did I just think about it?”
Bucky raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing here, Nat?”
“I live here,” she said, her words bumping clumsily into one another before she poked him in the chest. “Duh.”
“You’re at Steve’s house,” he reminded patiently before his eyes dropped to take in her appearance. Open coat, a forehead still sweaty from dancing, makeup that had slipped to smudge around her eyes and shoes in her other hand. Her feet were bare and currently surrounded by the inch of snow still on Steve’s front porch. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, pulling the door open the rest of the way. “Come inside, you’re going to get sick.”
She followed him in, dropping her shoes so she could dig in her pocketbook. “Are you sure this is Steve’s house?” she asked, glancing up and around before she retrieved her phone.
Bucky sighed. “Pretty sure,” he said, and closed the door behind her, sliding the deadbolt back into place. He held out a hand. “Let me see?” Obediently, she handed over her phone so he could see her last used app. “Yeah, you have Steve’s address saved as the last place you went and you didn’t tell it you wanted to go home.”
“Huh,” she said, taking her phone back. “Well,” she frowned with drunken confusion. “Shit. Now I gotta do this all over again.”
He put a hand on her shoulder to stop her from turning around. “Just...” he motioned to the living room with a nod. “Just stay here,” he said. “You can go home in the morning; but keep your voice down. Charlotte’s asleep.”
“I’ll be quiet,” Natasha said in a loud whisper before she took in his rumpled t-shirt and sweatpants. “Were you asleep?”
He turned on one of the softer lights in the living room and squinted for a minute before he motioned for her to sit on the couch and nodded. “Kinda what people do at two in the morning.” He watched her drop down onto the sofa and needlessly adjust the straps and hem of her dress before she finally gave up and folded her legs in front of her. “You want something more comfortable to sleep in?”
“Mmm,” she nodded and reached for her phone again. “Sorry to wake you up,” she mumbled. “Didn’t mean to.”
“I know,” he assured her and reached into the suitcase he’d planned on living out of for the next three days. There was a handful of clean t-shirts and an extra pair of sweats he’d thrown in just in case. “Here,” he called softly and tossed them to her. In her drunken state, she only managed to catch the t-shirt and watched, amused, as the pants fluttered to the ground.
“Thanks,” she said and pulled the shirt over her head before she slipped her arms out of the straps of her dress and let it fall to the ground in an unceremonious heap of sparkles. His shirt hit her mid-thigh, but he turned away anyway as she bent over and yanked on his soft gray sweatpants. “Much better,” she said, sighing with relief when she sat down again.
“Hang tight,” he said with a glance over his shoulder. “I’m gonna get you some water.”
She’d curled her bare feet up under her by the time he returned with a large glass from the tap. Her head rested against her arm on the back of the couch and she offered him a sleepy, embarrassed smile. “Thanks,” she said, her voice hoarse.
“Must’ve been some party,” he commented with a smile as he dropped down beside her.
She nodded around the dutiful gulp of water she took. “It was,” she said when she finished and set the glass on the coffee table. “You should’ve been there.”
Bucky frowned for a moment before he recovered. “And miss out on Barbie: Rapunzel? Never.”
“I thought it was Swan Lake...”
“Double feature,” he said dryly.
“You lucky duck,” she shook her head and reached for his hand. Her fingers were freezing as she pulled his nails close to her eyes for inspection. “And these are...”
“Awful,” he finished for her, taking his hand back from her icy grip. “But I have to wait until I get home to take the polish off.”
Natasha laughed again. A soft, husky sound from back in her throat. “Do you have nail polish remover at home?”
“I can get some.”
“Just make sure you get pure acetone,” she warned. “It’s the only thing that takes off glitter.”
“Noted,” he said with a nod and grabbed her water glass. “Keep drinking.”
She took another sip and then a third under his watchful gaze. She was quiet for a moment before she laid her head back on her arm. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
He rolled his eyes. “Because sometimes I’m a nice guy, Nat.”
She frowned and traced her nail along a scratch in the leather. “No, I know, but...” she raised her eyes. “But you don’t like me.”
He let out a strangled croak of a laugh and shook his head. “That’s not...” he paused and let his breath flutter past his lips. “I like you fine,” he decided on the safest answer. “Anyway, you’re the one who doesn’t like me.”
Her expression wrinkled in confusion. “Why? ‘Cause I didn’t want to sleep with you at Steve and Peggy’s wedding?”
Bucky rolled his eyes. “Believe it or not, I managed to get over that crushing rejection pretty quickly,” he said dryly. “No, I was actually referring to the ten-year cold shoulder you’ve been giving since telling me you didn’t want to sleep with me at Steve and Peggy’s wedding.” He eyed her carefully, noting the glassiness of her eyes and the way she kept licking her lips, a sure sign she could no longer feel them. “And you’re not going to remember this conversation anyway, so I’m not sure why we’re having it right now.”
“Because it’s important that you know that I don’t...” she paused and let her head drift to one side. “Like you. You know?”
He laughed again. “It’s important that I know that you don’t like me? I’m pretty sure I got the memo.”
“No,” she rolled her eyes, frustrated. “Just. I don’t...not like you. I...like you fine,” she repeated his words from before. “You’re nice and you’re funny and you’re really good with Charlotte and that’s...all good things.”
“Okay, Nat,” he patted her arm and made a move to get to his feet. “Thanks for clearing that up.”
She pulled on his hand before he could stand. “Wait. Just...” she let out a breath. “Would you be mad if I kissed you right now?”
He froze for a second and shook his head again. “You would be mad if you kissed me right now,” he corrected. “Or, Sober Natasha would be.” He untangled her fingers from his and went to stand up again. “In fact, I think we should probably press pause on this subject right now and not do anything else that’s going to piss off Sober Natasha.”
“Ugh, she’s no fun at all,” she moaned, throwing back her head dramatically and covering her face with her hands.
Bucky smirked as he got to his feet. “She’s kinda fun,” he admitted. “Sometimes.”
“We don’t have to tell her,” Nat said, narrowing her eyes and leaning toward him, dropping her voice into a whisper.
“Oh, something tells me she’d find out,” Bucky assured her. “And anyway, weren’t you just out kissing a bunch of strangers? I would’ve thought you had your fill.”
She wrinkled her nose. “My midnight kiss was sloppy,” she admitted. “Too wet. Too much bottom lip.”
“Tragic.”
“Just,” she pressed her full lips together and pouted them in his direction. “Come on. It’s bad luck to start the year without a proper greeting.”
He rolled his eyes again. “It’s two and half hours into the new year, kiddo. Bad luck or not, we’ve already started it.”
She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Fine; abandon me,” she said, waving him away. “Where are you going, anyway?”
“To plug your phone in,” he said, holding up the device he’d lifted from the coffee table. “And I’m not telling you where because you’re not going to do anything good with it until you sober up a little bit.”
“Fine,” she repeated, sliding down further into the couch cushions. “But when you come back, I’m going to kiss you and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
Bucky plugged her phone into the wall charger in the kitchen and retrieved the painkillers from the top shelf of the cabinet. The bottle shook almost cheerfully in his hand. “Okay, Nat, if you say—” he stopped himself at the sight of Natasha passed out on his pillow, mouth agape, “so.”
He sighed again and grabbed the blanket he’d been using and tossed it over her, covering her up to the shoulders. He pushed back her hair and fetched the small garbage can from the downstairs bathroom to place beside the sofa, just in case. The pills he set next to her glass of water and patted the top of her head before switching off the light.
Bucky did his best to get comfortable in the arm chair in the corner. He flipped to his side and rested his head on the arm, already being able to pinpoint where he was going to be sore in the morning. “Happy new year, Natasha,” he said before he felt his eyelids growing heavy again.
She snored loudly in response.