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They were late. Which meant that Natasha and Bucky were supposed to be meeting with the rest of the Avengers in an hour, but now they were going to arrive with maybe five minutes to spare instead of the twenty she preferred. But the feel of Bucky’s lips on hers and the gentle touch of his hands on her hips as he moved against her was always her weakness.
“We need to go,” she whispered against his lips as she felt the beginning of his stirrings inside her. “We still need to shower and get dressed.”
“They’ll understand,” Bucky said as he pressed himself deeper inside her.
Natasha groaned. “I know they will,” she said between a moan. “But the later we get started, the later we get home tonight, and I know you’ve worked hard on our anniversary night.”
That stopped him. Bucky sighed, slipping out of her and flopping over on the bed. The ache and emptiness he left behind was so much she almost put her fingers down to finish herself off. But no, she was the one who had stopped this.
Instead, she rolled on to her side, kissed him once more and whispered, “I’ll make it up to you tonight.”
“You always do,” Bucky said. “Now go get ready so we can go do this thing.”
--
It turned out there were two things. Because of course something new always had to come up. One secret group trying to smuggle dangerous high-tech weapons into the country wasn’t bad enough. Instead, a second group had to start smuggling in high-tech weapons that were believed to be laced with narcotics.
Natasha got assigned to the second group — “An informational mission only,” Steve reminded her before she, Sam and Rhodey headed out. Bucky, Steve and Wanda were taking the first one since it presumably was going to require more brute strength and supernatural powers.
“Got it,” Natasha said to Steve. “I’ve got plans tonight anyway.”
She looked to Bucky but didn’t miss Sam, who was standing beside her, waggling his eyebrows.
“Stop,” she said to Sam even as she crossed to Bucky and kissed him gently. “Be careful out there,” she said to him.
“Back at you,” Bucky replied, and then he turned to follow Steve and Wanda to the nearest Quinjet. A few minutes later they were off, and Natasha sighed as she watched them disappear. Sometimes — well, what was she talking about. Most times would be more accurate — it was hard to believe this was her life. She had never thought she would be the type of person to get married. She had never even thought she’d be with anyone. And even though it had started out as a way to save Bucky from a worse fate, it had grown into something she had never expected. And last year, on the anniversary of the day they’d entered into their legal union, they’d redone their vows, re-held their wedding, planned an elaborate reception and invited all their friends, and that had felt like their real wedding. Making today what Natasha considered their actual first anniversary.
The thought of it made a small smile appear on her lips, which in turn made her almost want to roll her eyes at herself. Who had she become? Where had the person she thought she was even gone?
She turned around, ready to get started with their own mission, and notice Sam smiling at her in a way she couldn’t quite read.
“What?” she said tentatively, and he smiled wider.
“It’s nice seeing you both happy,” he said.
“Don’t jinx it,” she said.
“You don’t believe in jinxing.”
“No,” she said. “I don’t. But don’t do it anyway.”
Sam laughed. “Come on,” he said. “We’ve got a mission to go on.”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Natasha said, and she, Sam and Rhodey headed toward the other free Quinjet.
--
Their mission was relatively simple. A true in and out. And even better, they got the information they needed and realized they could just turn it over to the government and they would go get the culprits themselves. It was always a pleasant surprise when that happened.
They hadn’t heard anything from Steve, Wanda or Bucky, but that wasn’t a surprise either. Their mission was more covert and everyone knew they probably wouldn’t report in until later in the day. It gave Natasha time for a workout and to handle all the needed paperwork on their own mission.
But when the call came to her cell phone, it wasn’t Bucky calling. It was Steve. Instantly, she was on high alert, her stomach leaping into her throat.
“Hello? Steve? What happened?” She knew she sounded desperate and worried, but she couldn’t help it. Her heart was stupidly pounding almost insanely fast, and she was glad she was already sitting down.
“It’s not serious,” Steve said immediately.
“But it’s serious enough that you’re calling instead of Bucky?” she said.
“Okay, yes,” Steve said. “But he’s going to be okay. He’s not dying. He doesn’t even need to be hospitalized.”
“Steve …”
“A concussion maybe,” Steve finally said. “We can get it checked out at the Tower. Some bruises. Lots of cuts.”
“What aren’t you telling me?” Natasha said.
There was a pause, and then, “Maybe a PTSD flashback.”
Natasha clenched the phone harder. “Steve.”
“Let’s just say some of the weapons we found were less weapons and more …” Steve trailed off, but he didn’t need to say it.
“People,” Natasha finished.
“He went into a bit of a rage,” Steve said. “He was in there fighting off twenty guys before Wanda and I even realized what was happening. We did what we could but …”
Another pause. But Natasha understood. They hadn’t been fast enough to prevent every injury. Which was understandable. But they had done what they could.
“When will you be back?” she said.
“Within an hour,” Steve said.
“Okay. We’ll be ready.”
--
Bucky insisted he was fine. “No concussion. It doesn’t even hurt,” he kept saying, even though he would visibly wince when she ran her fingers over the awful looking lump on his forehead. The bruises and cuts weren’t too bad for someone in their line of work, but they did look awful, and she could tell just looking at his face that he was tired and overwhelmed and not feeling up to anything.
“Still,” she insisted. “I don’t want to risk it.”
Even with the pain she knew he must be in, he looked almost defeated. “I’d planned tonight to be so special,” he said. “I didn’t want to go and ruin it.”
She stared at him and hoped the disbelief showed on her face. “You didn’t ruin anything,” she said. “We’re together. You’re okay. I’m okay. That’s all I need.”
“That might be all you need, but you deserve a lot more,” Bucky grumbled softly, but Natasha just reached out and squeezed his hand.
“There will be plenty of other anniversaries.”
“Our first one should be special,” Bucky said.
“It will be.”
“This isn’t special.” Bucky gestured to himself and to her, both of them lying together in their bed, the television turned on but the sound down as an old sitcom played across the screen. “We do this every night.”
“No, we don’t,” Natasha laughed. “Plus I got us something so wait here.”
“I don’t think I can go anywhere,” Bucky grumbled. “You’d just throw me back here.”
“You got that right.”
She slipped out of bed and headed to the kitchen. She hadn’t known what plans Bucky had made for their special evening, but Steve had, and he had helped her call the restaurant Bucky had planned to take them to and arranged to have the cake he’d wanted them to share delivered to their apartment. She pulled it carefully out of the box now and lit the small candles on the top, gently brushing her finger over the rose that was also placed there. The whole cake was beautiful and she knew it would have been perfect and romantic if they had gone where Bucky had wanted them to — Steve had told her he’d reserved a private room for them — but it was perfect here too.
She carried the plate slowly down the hall and into the bedroom, watching as Buffy’s grumpy expression changed into one of surprise and aww as she set the dessert down on the nightstand beside their bed.
“How …?” he started, but then he seemed to realize. “Steve told you.”
“He loves us,” Natasha said. “He wants us to be happy.”
“He’s not the only one,” Bucky said.
“He is not,” she agreed.
She headed back to the kitchen for plates and forks and a serving knife. A few minutes later they were once again sitting side by side enjoying the most exquisite dessert she could remember tasting.
“Thank you for doing this for me,” she said, tilting her head up so she could kiss her husband.
“I think you did this for me,” Bucky corrected, and Natasha smiled.
“We did it for each other,” Natasha said. “Like married couples are supposed to. Happy first anniversary, Bucky Barnes. I love you.”
“And I love you, Natasha Romanoff,” he said, and a smirk crossed his face. “And as soon as I finish this cake, I will show you how much.”
She smirked back. “I will hold you to that.”
And she did.