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Considering their often very irregular sleeping pattern, it wasn’t a surprise when James pulled her out of bed at 3 in the morning to go for a walk in the snow. Natasha just put on some clothes and followed him out into the cold.
“Do you hear that?” he asked after they had been walking for a while.
She focused, blocking out the sound of fresh snow crunching under their boots and the sound of their breathing. “The barking dog in an apartment somewhere or the car a few blocks away?”
He shot her a mock frown. “You’re ruining my story.”
“That has to be a new record. What was I supposed to say?”
“You’re supposed to say ‘’What?’ And then I would say…” He looked at her, motioning her to continue with his free hand.
“‘Exactly,’” Natasha said with a small smile. “And then you’d use it as an excuse to tell a story about how you saved Steve from getting beat up. Only this time it would be in the snow.”
He snorted. “You say that like you’d be able to tell a better story about snow.”
“I would, but it wouldn’t be as funny.” She turned, stood on tiptoes, and kissed him with closed lips. “Tell me your story, James. I’m dying to hear it.”
He did and it was as funny as Natasha had expected, involving a month-long snowball fight with a neighboring gang. And Steve didn’t even have to be rescued once.
When he was done, they’d reached Brighton Beach and they begun to walk along the Boardwalk. The wind was strong enough to pull at her scarf and she stuffed it inside her coat.
Maybe it was the quiet, or maybe it was the fact that James was so willing to share his memories with her. In any case the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.
“I remember the cold most of all.” She shook her head, aware of how it sounded, but James squeezed her hand and she forced herself to continue. “It’s such a cliché. But I remember the chill, and the way my cheeks burned when I returned inside. This was before, of course. Afterwards I barely noticed the cold, even when I was outside for hours or days.”
He only nodded, allowing her to continue without interruptions. He always quieted when she talk about her past. It made her very aware of how seldom she talked about it.
“There was this one time before graduation. I was on a training mission, up in the mountains, up north.” She didn’t say up north from where, because he was at the Red Room too, he didn’t need the reminder. “It was just me and the supervisor in this tiny hut in the dead of winter. The supervisor had packed everything, but she forgot to bring winter gear. All I had was the parka I’d worn for the trip up there.”
James smiled when she looked up at him, clearly realizing why it was she always insisted on checking the gear before a mission.
“I was supposed to watch this family, safe inside their heated mansion. While I was outside in the snow, in the cold. Without any gloves on.” Natasha laughed, a hard sound that got snatched up by the wind. “I was so furious. It was probably a test, one of many. I didn’t know. All I knew was how cold I was during those miserable 8 days on that mountain. The only thing that kept me sane was thinking again and again that they would not break me. That this would be over too. That I would make it.”
They’ve reached the start of the Steeplechase Pier and she pulled him with her out on it.
“Even afterwards, when I had returned to heated rooms and a bed with more than one blanket, I felt cold. It was like the cold had become a manifestation of my doubt. This nagging thought that I wasn’t good enough. Even after I proved beyond doubt that I was, when I could finally call myself the Black Widow, the cold stayed with me. And I remember thinking, ‘Am I out of the woods yet?’ But I didn’t dare ask anyone, because what if they said no? What if I would never be safe?”
They walked in silence until they reached the end of the Pier
“So tell me, James,” she said, leaning her back against the rails, looking up at him. “Are we out of the woods yet?”
“No,” he said, putting his hands on either side of her, his body a warm and solid shield against the cold. “Because you like it here, you’d only get bored if you didn’t get to risk your life at least once a month.” Tugging a strand of loose hair back under her hat, he bent his head to kiss her. Lips warm and soft against hers and Natasha opened her mouth to him. Just as heat began to curl in the pit of her stomach, he straightened, breaking the kiss.
“Did I pass your test?” James asked with a crooked smile.
“Always,” she answered, and pulled him back down into a kiss.