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Yelena sighed, an over-the-top dramatic sigh that seemed to fill the air around them and had nothing at all to do with the situation at hand. Natasha turned her head to glance at her, just in time to see Yelena’s sidelong glance back at her, her eyes filled with an accusation of sorts, until she smirked, and instantly Natasha dreaded what was about to come from her lips.
“You’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?”
Whatever she thought Yelena was about to say, it wasn’t that. Natasha stared at Yelena blankly. “What?”
She tried to do a mental calculation of who she and Yelena had been recently talking about that Yelena could possibly think she was thinking about now. She knew it wasn’t Alexei, who was stomping down the road in front of them, singing like they were heading off on a holiday and not on a mission to find Melina so they could take down the Red Room. She knew she’d mentioned Barton a couple times in the past few hours. After all, she was worried about him being locked up at the Raft, with Laura and the kids back at the farm. Sam, maybe? She thought she’d mentioned him. Maybe even Bucky, or Scott, or Tony. There was also Rhodey. She had definitely mentioned Rhodey and what had happened to him.
Beside her, Yelena rolled her eyes. “Don’t even pretend,” she said.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Natasha said.
Yelena smirked again. “You’re so ridiculous,” she said. “Everyone can see it.”
“Can see what? And thre’s only three of us here.”
“When we get done with this,” Yelena said, waving her hand in the air like their mission to take down the Red Room was just another item on her to-do list, “and you get back to him, you should just tell him.”
“Yelena!” Natasha said sharply. But a feeling of dread instantly ignited in her belly. Had she mentioned him? She didn’t think so. Alexei had mentioned him — Alexei had mentioned him a lot — but she hadn’t. Right? There was no way Yelena was talking about who she was starting to think she might be was talking about, was there?
Yelena didn’t even flinch at her tone. She just grinned more and kept talking. “I mean, he puts up with you, right?” she said. “You and all your issues.”
“I don’t have issues.”
“Please. We both are full of issues. You even more so. We both know it. And he puts up with you. And apparently likes you. Or at least likes you being around. So, you should tell him.”
Natasha shook her head, but the dread was now feeling like full on pressure in her chest. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Except even Natasha didn’t believe herself anymore.
Yelena chortled. “If you two get married someday, I’m happy to be your maid of honor,” she said. “Captain America and Black Widow. What a sight that would be.”
Yelena sped up her pace, suddenly interested in catching up to Alexei, her braids flying behind her, but Yelena wouldn’t have had to move very fast at all to leave Natasha behind, if that was her intention. Natasha had somehow stopped walking, the feeling of dread now lodged in her throat.
Yelena thought she and …? No. She might have been thinking about him, but …? No. She had to have imagined that whole conversation.
Hadn’t she?
--
She leaned against Barton’s side, their legs draped over the edge of one of the countless balconies of Avengers Tower, the street too many stories down to count. Behind them, she could hear the pounding music and the hum of a crowd. Why she had agreed to come to one of Tony’s parties was still beyond her.
She felt Clint turn his head, press his lips gently against the crown of her hair. Right. This is why she had come. Because Clint was in town and was going to be here, and she’d wanted to see him, even if it meant putting up with Tony and all of this for a few hours. She wondered what Clint would think if she asked to come back with him to the farm. Maybe she could hibernate in one of their guest rooms for a couple months. She could help Laura with the kids, learn to cook. Maybe she could learn to farm. SHIELD would be fine without her for a bit. Right?
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Clint said. She felt him pull back and then tap his finger against her temple. She sighed, twisting her head so she could see his face. He raised an eyebrow.
“You’re not planning to come back to SHIELD anytime soon, are you?” she said softly.
She didn’t wait to see his reaction, instead glancing back down at the street below, but she could feel him frown.
“You know I’m not cleared for that yet,” Clint said. “It’s what Fury and I talked about today. He thinks it better for me to stay away for longer.”
“I thought so.”
“Nat, what’s going on?” He sounded worried. She didn’t want him to be worried.
She shook her head. “Nothing,” she said. “I just … miss you.”
“Are things not working out with you and Steve?” he said.
She didn’t answer.
“Is he not respecting you? Because if he’s not …”
She stopped him with a hand on his arm. “He’s respecting me just fine,” she said. “He’s … too respecting.”
Clint titled his head. “What does that mean, Nat?”
She thought of Steve. Of the way he always asked her opinion. The way he smiled at her. The way they sat together at lunch.
The way he had stroked her hair back from her face after their last mission. The way he had picked her up after he’d gotten her free, the way he’d run with her in his arms like she was precious cargo and he was the only one who could protect her.
She thought of the way he’d looked at her afterward. She remembered looking at his lips. Wondering what it would be like to kiss him. If he would like that.
Her. Black Widow. A notorious assassin. Someone not to be trusted. With anything. Wanting to kiss Captain America of all people.
She looked away from Clint, but he must have seen something on her face. He slung an arm around her and hauled her in even closer against him.
“Oh, Nat,” he said. “Maybe this could be a good thing.”
“It can’t be,” she said.
“You don’t know that.”
But she did. She did know that.
--
“YOU KISS HIM YET? XOXO”
Natasha glared at her burner phone before shoving it back into her pocket. Almost immediately she felt it buzz against her thigh. And then buzz again. She scowled.
“You okay?”
She almost jumped out of her spot on the bench. She stared up at Steve, holding a glass of what looked like lemonade out to her. She hadn’t seen him approach. Which was not safe and not normal for her.
Even worse, he knew something was bothering her, but some things she still couldn’t tell him.
“Don’t worry,” he said, moving the glass even closer to her after she didn’t instantly take it. “We put vodka in it too.” He grinned at her when he said, his face lighting up, his eyes sparking.
She took the drink from him, thanking him, scooting over just a touch so he could sit down beside her. The sun was almost fully gone now, the sky still colored with faded oranges and reds. Steve, Sam and her had been at his safe house for a little over a week. It would be time to leave soon. To pack everything up once again and head out.
Steve waited till he had gotten situated before turning his worried expression on her.
“Something going on?” he asked, just as she felt her phone buzz again.
She shook her head. “Just Yelena being a pest,” she said.
“I’d really like to meet her,” Steve said.
“You wouldn’t.”
Steve laughed. “I would. I want to meet everyone who’s important to you.”
Natasha thought about that. “There are not very many,” she said. “You know most of them already.”
Steve studied her for a moment, and then he smiled. That smile he had that seemed like it was made just for her. The one that made her heart beat strangely inside her chest and her stomach flip around like it wasn’t anchored in place. The one she wished he would stop giving to her, but he never did.
“I know,” he said. “That’s why I would love to meet your sister.”
--
“I was worried about you.”
Steve’s whispered words came after a long silence, hanging there in the dark. Natasha had almost been asleep, curled up against him in the small bed meant for one person. Sam was a few feet away on the little couch, his snores filling the room. The one-room safe house was tiny, meant for one person. But it would do until they could figure out a better plan.
“I was fine,” she said automatically.
“I don’t think that’s true,” Steve said. His hand was balanced on her waist. She felt his warmth, practically burning through her, his words tender, bearing no judgement. “That’s why I was worried about you.”
Natasha laughed softly. “You know I can take care of myself.”
“Of course, you can. That doesn’t mean everything was just fine.” He paused. “But if you want to pretend it was, it’s okay. I won’t ask you again.”
Natasha let his words wash over her. And the words he didn’t say. She thought about the night after they’d rescued everyone from The Raft, how he had told her everything about what happened from when they last saw each other at the airport. The way he confided about the fight with Tony, about the way he had hurt him.
“I was so mad,” he had said, his voice laced with pain. “I shouldn’t have done it.”
He had been so open with her, so honest. So vulnerable.
She licked her lips, listened to Sam’s snores and his breath in the dark.
“I have a sister,” she said suddenly. She felt Steve move beside her. She shifted her own position so they could see each other. “I was with her.”
Steve nodded at her. “I’d love to hear about her,” he said. “If you want to tell me about her.”
“I do,” Natasha said. “Her name is Yelena …”
--
Natasha should have known that there was no way she could ever have kept Yelena away. She should have known, and she should have done whatever she could have to prevent it. She should have lied, told Yelena she and Steve were together and happy, or told her she had taken off on her own and was going to disappear again. Maybe she should have told her Steve was in a relationship with Bucky and there was no room for her. Maybe she should have fucked Sam one night and then told Yelena that she’d never had feelings for Steve at all. If this was what you could call having feelings.
But she had done none of those things, and so she was surprised but not really when early one morning, she heard Steve yelp in surprise from the downstairs area of their new safe house, and then a moment later yell up to her, “Natasha! You’re going to want to come down here!”
By the time she had made it down the stairs, Sam right behind her wanting to see what all the fuss was about, Yelena was sitting on the island in the kitchen, swinging her legs like she belonged there, a shit-eating grin on her face.
“Hi Sis!” she said. “I’ve come for a visit!”
Natasha glared at her, even as she wrapped her sister in a giant hug. She had pretended before, but there was no pretending now. She knew what was about to happen.
--
It took Yelena four days to get what she wanted — a chance alone with Steve. Natasha had done everything she could to make sure that didn’t happen. She was practically glued to Yelena’s side her entire visit, barely even sleeping to make sure Yelena didn’t sneak out to talk to Steve alone.
Until the moment she couldn’t stay awake any longer — no thanks in part to all the vodka tonics she and Yelena had the night before — and Yelena took advantage.
She woke in a panic, the sun coming through the bedroom window, to find herself in her bed, alone, Yelena no where to be found. She practically threw herself out of bed, yanking on a sweatshirt over her tank top she’d worn to bed and running downstairs so fast she almost tripped. Sam was in the kitchen, sitting at the table, studying an array of newspapers he had laid out in front of him. His morning ritual to make sure they weren’t in any of them. Nor any of their friends.
“They’re on the porch,” he said when Natasha exploded into the room. He frowned, probably at the crazed look she was sure she had on her face.
“You okay, Nat?”
She was most definitely not okay, but she didn’t stop to explain that to Sam. Instead, she plowed through the back door and around the side of the house to where the two most important people in her life were sitting together on an old swinging chair, laughing and chatting and drinking coffee like they were the best of friends.
Steve noticed her first. He nudged Yelena, who turned to her.
“Natasha! Good morning! Did you sleep well?” Yelena said in an overly enthusiastic voice, smiling at her and blinking her eyes in professed innocence.
Natasha glared at her and wondered if she could get away with murder. Would anyone really care if she took Yelena out right here? But Yelena was already standing up, cradling her coffee mug in her hands.
“It was so good talking to you,” she said to Steve, drawing the words out, even as she winked at Natasha. And then she turned, heading back around the house to go inside, leaving Natasha and Steve alone.
Natasha stared after Yelena, wondering if she should follow her. But instead, she found her feet making their way over to Steve, her body sliding down beside him on the swing.
He reached out and took her hand. The way he sometimes did. His fingers slipping in between hers. She could feel the heat of his body against her. The way he was always so warm and steady and comforting.
“Your sister had a lot to say,” he said quietly.
“I’m sure she did.”
“None of it was anything I didn’t already know.”
She turned her head at that, a shot of panic coursing through her, like she was in enemy territory and only had a few moments to escape before being caught and tortured.
Steve lifted a hand, brushing a stray curl behind her ear. Her face burned where he touched her.
“Do you think I don’t know, Nat?” he said softly. “We’re together every single day. We sleep together every night.” His lips curled up at the edges. “Sometimes we don’t even sleep.”
Natasha smirked at that, but then she let it drop off her face.
“So, what exactly did she say?” She tried to say it casually, but she could feel her heart pounding inside her chest. It was so loud she was sure Steve could hear it too.
“What do you think she said?”
She shook her head. “Don’t do that, Steve.”
He smiled gently. “She told me I should stop pretending I don’t care about you. And that I should stop you from pretending too.”
Natasha stared at him. She hadn’t expected that. Or at least she hadn’t expected all of that. She had only been prepared for the second part. She tried to wrap her mind around what Steve was telling her.
“But you never … But you knew … you never said …” She stopped trying to say words. Instead she went back to staring at Steve.
He shrugged at her. “I wanted you to be ready,” he said simply. “For whatever this is.”
For whatever this is.
She felt a lump in her throat. Images of everything she’d ever wondered went through her mind. Steve’s hand in hers. Steve’s lips against her. Steve by her side, in every way there was.
Her and Steve. As something she had always thought belonged to other people, not to her. She was never made for something like that.
Was she?
She tried to speak, to summon the truth she thought Steve deserved. “I don’t know if I will ever be ready.”
“That’s okay,” Steve said.
Natasha shook her head. “How can that be okay? You deserve so much, Steve. You deserve someone who loves you, with their whole being. You deserved to be loved and appreciated and have someone with you who can give you that.”
Steve’s thumb rubbed against her cheek. “I do have that,” he said.
Natasha stared at him.
“I don’t need you to say it in words for me to know,” he told her. “You give me all that every day, Natasha. There isn’t anything else I want.”
“Don’t you want …?” She trailed off, frowning.
“To call you my girlfriend?” Steve said. “To tell the world?”
“I was thinking some other things,” Natasha said. Weddings. Houses. Babies. Families. Homes. All the things she thought about in the dark of night. All the things she would never breath to anyone. Because she was still who she was, and who was she to want any of that?
Steve shrugged. “All I want is you.”
“You’re an idiot,” Natasha whispered.
“I know.”
She pressed her fingers to his lips. The lips of this man who knew everything about her and still wanted to be with her. The lips of this man who she wanted to be with too.
She hated when Yelena was right.
“But I guess you’re my idiot, huh?” she whispered.
“Yeah, I am.”
He leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers. She wound her arms around his neck.
Somewhere behind her she heard a squeal and a hoot. Yelena and Sam.
“I’m going to kill them,” she muttered against Steve’s lips, but she didn’t stop kissing him.
“Fine with me,” he said, and he took her face in his hands and kissed her harder.
Killing, Natasha decided, could wait a few minutes.