Chapter Text
Things have been quiet. It was quiet in the best way possible really, especially for someone like Natasha. She appreciated the rare downtime that she got from time to time. Being an Avenger and saving the world time after time was great and all, but it was hard when you needed to just kick back and relax. Even when she wasn’t physically in the office, it was hard to keep her mind from wandering back to the mountains of forms that needed to be filled in and reports that needed to be read and reviewed. Half the time, she felt more like a secretary and less like someone tasked with saving the world time and time again. It was like a never-ending marathon with being an Avenger.
The incident in Sokovia had left them all a little more scarred in their own ways but Wanda suffered the brunt of it all with Pietro’s death. She struggled, she was still struggling and Natasha could see it in her eyes but it was an inevitable fact. Natasha tried her best and talked to Wanda often, putting aside her own long time fear of being betrayed by getting close to people. She wanted to be there for Wanda when she needed someone the most. Natasha knew how important it was that she tried. The Avengers were her friends and comrades, more than that, they were her family. A family that brought warmth and kindness into her less than normal life. It was late nights hanging out at the bar with Sam and watching reruns of ridiculous rom coms with Steve. It was sparring with Rhodes until they were so exhausted that moving felt impossible. It was somewhere she belonged. Natasha wanted Wanda to feel what she was beginning to experience. She wanted the Sokovian to understand comfort and marvel in the feeling of having people to call her family again. Natasha would try to coax Wanda to go out, to spar with her, anything to get her to leave the pain; even if it was just a momentary distraction. Sometimes she seemed more than happy to oblige, but other times she would merely shrug. It was a waiting game, but she was patient. Natasha knew what it was like to lose someone important; she just hoped that she would never have to experience it again.
The KBG was her past, and while she couldn’t change that, she could learn to accept it. Nowadays, though, she spent her days training the new Avengers and recruits with Captain America himself.
Steve Rogers was America's favourite soldier and star-spangled captain. He was the talk of the town wherever he went in the best way possible. Who could forget about the fact that he had practically helped America win the war?
He was nothing like her.
She was Russia's best weapon. One that worked in the dark, pulling strings in the shadows. There was no applause, no praise, for what she did. She was not in the likes of Captain America, in fact, she was far from it. She was the Black Widow and lived up to her title in the most terrifying way possible.
Even then, Steve never saw her as anything more than who she really was. She was not the Black Widow outside of the playing field, she was just Natasha Romanoff. He knew her as she was, not the alias she carried and not the mask she wore.
They had been partnered up since before the Winter Soldier had reappeared in their midsts and there was absolutely no denying that they worked well as a pair. In fact, they had clicked so well it was beginning to become the talk of the new agents. Things weren't always smooth sailing for either of them. They fought, they argued and they sparred too much but eventually they always found their way back.
Natasha pretended not to hear the rumours swirling about, but it was hard to ignore. It troubled her more than she would like to admit, though. How could someone like her possibly end up with Steve? He was too pure, too innocent, and too righteous to ever take a second glance at someone like her. She was a master assassin and a skilled spy. There was no hesitating when it came to doing her job. Doubts get you in messes and Natasha Romanoff didn't do messy. She did clean cut and efficient. While she never doubted her skills in espionage, she doubted herself as a person. Did she have the ability to sympathise? Would she ever be able to feel and experience things like a normal human being? Murder was a skill, but assassination was an art. She had been taught to paint the lines the KGB wanted and now she was learning to put down the paint brush. She could change.
Natasha Romanoff was more than a murderer, but she would never be able to match up to someone like Steve.
She was simply too tainted.
The other Avengers; they were sitting on the sidelines for a while. Tony was on break, ready to continue doing whatever it was Tony Stark did when he wasn’t drunk or being Iron Man. Thor was back on Asgard and Bruce was still missing in action. She tried to look past that one. Bruce had been, was, a great friend and whatever they had attempted to start had been a mistake. She knew that much.
Clint had taken to retirement; he was now shooting golf balls in place of arrows and spending more time with his family. His kids were the cutest, and they loved their auntie Nat as much as she loved them. They were little rascals and always ready for a little fun; especially when it came to pranking daddy dearest. Little to nothing fazed the archer, but they would always manage to concoct a scheme devious enough to draw his attention. Clint’s farm wasn’t far enough to stop her from visiting more than a couple times a month, a fact she appreciated endlessly.
“Nat, you finished the Doritos didn’t you?” Steve asked, making his way towards where she was seated on his couch. It was a Saturday and if you ever needed Natasha Romanoff on a Saturday, she could often be found on Steve Roger’s couch in his Brooklyn apartment. It was their day off from playing the role of mummy and daddy to the Avengers and she couldn't have asked for better timing. She hadn't slept all that well for three days and it was starting to take a toll on her. Steve hardly minded that she was on his couch, she was here most days anyway.
“I didn’t know it was the last one,” she shrugged as she flicked through TV channels, “You don’t even eat Doritos old man, why were you looking for it?”
“Because I figured a certain spy might want some,” he teased.
She rests her chin on one hand, quirking an eyebrow at him, “Hm, thoughtful."
“Of course," Steve grins, plopping down next to her.
“Woah, careful, we haven’t gotten life alert yet,” she smirks, shifting so she can prop her legs onto his lap, “97 is a big number, we've got to be prepared.”
He shoots her a look, “Hilarious.”
“Aren’t I always?” She grins, “Are you going to drop by the store later?”
“I am.”
“Could you get more-“
“Junk?” Steve quips.
“Please and thank you,” She replies.
"You should really stop eating those, they aren't good for you," Steve says, getting up.
"Lighten up Rogers, the thing about having serum, albeit a less potent version, running through your veins is that you can eat whatever you want," Natasha says as he inches past her, "Besides, a few Doritos never killed anyone."
"I'd call obesity but you're no bigger than a muscular stick," he smiles.
"Getting sassy now are we?" Natasha asks, raising an eyebrow, "You're integrating into the 21st century well, Rogers. Who's the teacher?"
He sighs, running a hand through his hair, "Being around Tony Stark too often does wonders to how you perceive things."
"I'd call bullshit but we all know how true that is," she grins.
"Language," He winces and heads to his bedroom, presumably to grab his jacket. New York winds could be harsh, especially during autumn. She picks up the sound of papers rustling and a door slam before he reappears in the living room.
"Hypocrisy is a crime, Rogers."
The soldier shrugs on his jacket, “Surely, you've caught me red-handed Romanoff. I’m leaving, are you going to be here when I get back?”
She gives him a mock salute and he catches her drift. She turns to give him a sly look, getting up, “Hey Steve, what do you think about curiosity?”
"Curiosity killed the cat," he says knowingly as he shuts the door behind him.
She grins wickedly to no one but herself, "But not the spy."
Natasha Romanoff was hardly one to pry into Steve’s personal things, but she was just curious as to what he was messing around with before he left. She knew that tone he'd used with her very well and she knew he would tell her if she asked, but for some reason, it felt like a bad idea.
So, here she was, pushing the door open to Steve's room in search of something she wasn't even sure was important. That was definitely a first. She was a master spy and espionage was a playing field she knew all too well. Anyone who'd been in the game this long knew that information was key to winning anything and right now she was flying blind because she was curious.
She could already picture one of Fury's lectures in her mind.
Natasha flipped the light switch and began her search. Steve’s room was never in a mess, which only made things easier for her. There was a desk sitting in the corner of the room, clean and tidy with a few framed photographs on top. She didn't have to peruse to know that they were framed photos of important people in his life, but she wandered over anyway. Sitting neatly on the desk was a photo of Peggy Carter, the one who got away. Natasha knew how much Peggy meant to him, that was a given. Beside that photo was a picture of the old Avengers at Avenger’s Tower after they had formally moved in together. Tony had decided to throw a small party after their success and everyone had gotten more than enough to drink, hence the biggest smiles possible in that photo. They had yet to take a group photo with the new Avengers but Natasha couldn’t help but notice that he’d added one more addition to his collection.
In a black ornate frame, it was a picture of her and Steve looking like they were having the time of their lives. She wasn’t looking at the camera and neither was he but she was laughing at something that he’d said and he had a silly grin plastered on his face. Natasha smiled looking at the photo.
Steve was one of the best things that had happened to her. She was just placing the photo back when a flash of red caught her eye. Opening the drawer, she realised it was a pile of sketchbooks. She knew Steve loved to spend time sketching and drawing, but she was hardly prepared for what she would find inside.
Flipping through, she understood that they were portraits, but she could barely recognise the person he had drawn. Some of them were fully coloured in vibrant hues of red and black and some were sketched, but all of them were of the same person. She wouldn’t have known if it wasn’t for the fiery red hair that matched her own so well.
The figure he had drawn portrayed her as someone far too graceful and perfect compared to who she really was. Steve's eye for detail showed when she examined the pictures closer; there was not a hair out of place. His eidetic memory had helped him in more ways than one. The girl in his sketchbooks wasn’t just a figure. The smallest of details brought life to the image, making her seem real.
She bit her lip, trying to understand. This wasn't what she was expecting to find. She was expecting a pile of paperwork, loose pages from a book, anything but what she had laid eyes on. She was caught off guard and she didn't know how to feel about it. It was not a feeling she had experienced before and it made her nervous thinking about it.
Why would Steve have portraits of her? Did Steve really think of her in a way that she thought was previously impossible?
Their friendship meant the world to her; it meant more than the Avengers could ever be to her. What if her discovering this, all these personal drawings of Steve's, ruined the only thing that really ever mattered to her? Her hands turned cold and she nearly dropped the sketches. Regaining her composure, she placed the papers back, her hands still shaking slightly.
When she was certain that everything was back in its exact place, she turned around and shut the door. She needed to get out of here, anything to remove whatever it was she was feeling. It was an emotion she couldn't identify with, a danger she didn't know how to face.
The Black Widow had finally met her match and its name was love. Without thinking, she grabbed her coat and slipped out the door. Steve would be back soon, and she didn’t know how to face him. So, she did what she did best.
She disappeared.