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The softest of breezes announced her presence.
It was a mere wisp, really; a slight change in the air that, for most people, would go completely unnoticed. But Steve had spent years learning the ways of Natasha Romanoff and he could always tell when she was close by.
He didn’t turn around right away, but he straightened his back to let her know that he was aware she was there.
They remained silent for a few moments; the only noise to be heard was the hum of traffic outside. He could feel her eyes on him, waiting ever so patiently for him to make the first move.
With a deep inhale and a slight smile, he eventually said, “How’d you find me?”
“Are you kidding?” she shot back immediately, a smirk evident in her voice. “You do know I’m a trained assassin, right? Most of my job is to find people who don’t want to be found. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you guys are pretty good - but I’m the best.”
Steve finally faced her then, head dipping to the side. “That I would have to agree with.” The smile on his face grew wider. “Hi, Nat.”
Gosh, he forgot how beautiful she was. And with even just the sight of her, his heart began to beat at a different pace – not faster or slower, but rhythmically as though it had been beating out of time for so long and was now fixing itself.
“Hey Soldier,” she replied, smiling back, the gesture reaching her eyes. His chest bloomed. “I like the beard,” she said, gesturing to the growth on his face, “it’s very…becoming.”
He scratched at the hair. “Thanks,” he snickered. “You know I’ve never had a beard before? They weren’t really acceptable in the ‘40s. But considering I’m now a fugitive, I thought it was time to switch it up.”
“Well I think it suits you.”
“Speaking of,” he continued, pointing to Nat’s newly-cut-newly-dyed blonde hair before stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “You look good as a blonde.”
She danced her fingers through the short locks. “Yeah I thought it was time to switch it up, too. Blondes have more fun, right? God knows I could use a bit of fun.”
Steve huffed a laugh. “It’s good to see you. I’m glad you’re okay.”
A flicker of… something crossed her face, her green eyes softening just a little bit around the edges for the briefest of seconds before they snapped back to normal. Guarded yet playful. And then, “Awh, were you worried about me? That’s sweet, Rogers.”
He could have lied, played along, kept the banter going, and snapped back - easily - into their old ways. Just be Captain America and Black Widow; partners, Avengers.
Except… they were more than that - more than partners, more than friends. Family, but not quite. No, to Steve, Natasha was something else, something that he couldn’t define and, if he was honest, something he didn’t want to define.
The man allowed himself a gentle smile at her jibe. “Hey now, we’ve been through a lot – and, trust me, I know you’re more than capable of looking after yourself but it’s just good to see you, that’s all,” he said with a shrug. “I wasn’t sure if that would ever happen again. Being-on-the-run doesn’t exactly come with a manual. You never know what’s coming around the corner.”
“Or who.”
“Or who,” he agreed.
Natasha peered at him then, head tilted to the side, arms crossed – her most natural pose. Her expression was thoughtful, as though she was in a deep search for words. “It’s good to see you, too, Steve. And I’m glad you’re okay.”
The sincerity in her tone struck him and for a second, it was just the two of them – no threats, no missions, no worries, no chequered history. Just Natasha and Steve. And for the briefest of instances, he allowed himself to be transported back in time to when they found out about truth about SHIELD and HYDRA – to the very first time he caught a glimpse of the real Natasha Romanoff. The awe on her face when he told that he would trust her to save his life was permanently embedded in his brain; it became evident to him so quickly that no one had ever said anything like that to her before. That no one had ever looked beyond her past and thought she was worth anything more than just what she brought to missions.
That was the moment everything changed for them as a team; trust began to form, and real conversations were had. Gone were the facades and the sly comments, and in their place was new understanding and new level of relationship. And ever since that day, he always wanted to let her know that she was seen in whatever way that he could and in whatever way she would let him.
Natasha broke the reverie first, as if hyperaware of the stillness between them. Her eyes dropped to the floor as she pushed out a quick breath. “So this is a good spot; small but not too small. A city but not a metropolis. Thousands of miles away from home. Not bad, Rogers.”
Shuffling over to the window, Steve pulled the curtain to the side ever so slightly. “Ross got too close before and I wasn’t about to let that happen again. I’ve moved around a lot in the last few weeks but this place felt the safest.”
“I gotta hand it to Ross; he’s persistent,” she mused, clicking her tongue.
“You had close calls, too?”
“He thought he had close calls,” she jested, ambling over to stand beside him. “But I’m always one step ahead.”
The street was busy. People lithely bustled past one another as if performing one big choreographed dance. Chatter and music from radios and the honk of car horns filled the air signalling the most perfectly normal day. It was cloudy, but not in a heavy sense. Just a little dull. And here he was with Nat, hiding away, biding their time, waiting to make their next escape.
“So where were you this whole time?” he asked, making sure to keep his gaze firmly away from her, knowing full well that he may have been striking a nerve.
Yet much to his surprise, her whole body turned toward him and whatever space that was between them had pretty much vanished in a second.
Steve, slowly yet deliberately, angled his face to the side so that he could look her in the eye.
“That’s… a long story. And one that I’m not ready to fully tell yet,” she started, swallowing hard. It was only then when he was up so close to her that he could see the remnants of bruises and cuts on her face. At the sight of them his blood began to burn, the need in him to reach out and ask if she was okay so great, but he reined it in despite being more than a little stunned at his own reaction. “But I was reminded about the importance of family and of team and…going alone isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, you know? We’re the Avengers and we serve a purpose and we have each other’s backs and… we’re a family, Steve. And I don’t know what that means to you – and I’m not sure it meant anything to me until now – but…” she paused, shaking her head as the words failed her. Steve stayed quiet. “You guys are my family and I just can’t stand by and do nothing as some of my family are in trouble.”
The man exhaled deeply, soaking in her words. A beat and then, “Neither can I.”
She nodded, her lips pursing bashfully. “I was hoping you would say that.”
Before he could let the moment pass, he carefully and quietly said, “And hey, whenever you’re ready to talk about whatever happened before this, just know that I’m always here to listen. You don’t have to carry that stuff on your own anymore.”
Nat worked her lip between her teeth and nodded. “Thanks.”
“So…you got a plan?”
“Partly,” she said, scrunching her nose. “I was hoping you could help me out with some of the kinks – but I do have a ride,” she declared, the raised eyebrow making an appearance.
He quirked his head in question.
“It’s parked in a secure location, don’t worry.”
“What is it?”
With an exaggerated sigh, Natasha took out her phone and showed him a picture of the jet.
Steve’s eyes widened. “How did you-”
“Like I said… long story.”
“You are full of surprises, Romanoff.”
“Oh you have no idea, Rogers.” It was only then when he remembered how close they were standing. Practically nose to nose. At the same time, Nat seemed to notice too and a childish grin broke out on her face. “So are you gonna offer me a drink or what…?”