Light filtered through the room. Steve opened his eyes slowly, keeping them squinted as the sunlight blinded him. He sat up unhurriedly, his head clearing from his slumber. After about a minute, he closed his eyes again, thinking back to what happened last night. Faint memories of crimson hair and soft lips meandered across his mind before they grew more vivid. He remembered twirling, laughing, smiling, singing.
The memories brought a small grin to his lips before he remembered him bending forward with his lips placed on hers, her fingers in his hair and his hands wrapped around her back. A full-out smile broke out on his face, a bit of a dreamy look in his eye.
His eyes burned. Rubbing at them, he stood up and went into the bathroom. The mirror reflected how red they still were from crying. Frowning, he splashed some water on his face. Some trickled down his wrists, plopping on the ground below, his socks being hit occasionally. Standing up straight, he dried his hands off and surveyed himself in the mirror again. His shoulder blades hurt from sleeping on the couch instead of his bed.
He hadn't meant to fall asleep on the couch; he had merely lain back to sort his thoughts out and had dozed off. Stretching his arms out, he attempted to alleviate the throbbing of his shoulders. It eased the pain a little bit.
A knock came from his door. He looked over his shoulder as if he could see who was there before he headed out through the hallway to the living room. He found his shirt lying on the floor, and pulling it on, he opened the door. Natasha stood there, her hair especially wavy, a purse strung over her shoulder. She stared up at him, as if waiting for him to say something.
"Hi, Natasha," he said, fixing his shirt. "You're looking nice early."
She stepped into her apartment, putting her purse on a counter and pulling her brown jacket off. "Steve, you know I'm always up at this time. You're the one who's up late."
Steve realized how sleepy he must appear still. "Sorry for looking like a mess," he muttered, running his hand through his hair. "I just woke up."
"I could tell." Her lips stretched into a thin smile as she turned her back to him, observing his apartment although she had been there many times before.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"Steve," she started, turning back to face him, "last night scared me."
The cheeriness vanished from his eyes. "Oh."
"It scared me a lot," she said. "I thought I was really going to loose you. I didn't know you were hurting that bad."
"I don't think anybody would think Captain America would be feeling like that," Steve said, rubbing his neck.
"You're not always Captain America," Natasha remarked. "Last night I saw Steve Rogers."
"Steve Rogers isn't all that fabulous," he murmured.
"You must be joking because I really like Steve Rogers. I think he's marvelous."
He turned his head away from her, attempting to hide his smile. "I don't know what everybody else thinks."
"The same thing." She stepped closer to him. "Today I want to take Steve Rogers around town and get him happy."
Steve looked back at her, his smile now exhibited plainly on his face. "You're going to take me around town?"
She nodded. "I don't know why that sounds like something rare to you. You're a friend. This should be mandatory."
"Thanks, Nat. Can I go get ready first?"
"Of course. I'll be back at noon."
"Sounds like a plan to me." He smiled once more, heading towards his bedroom. "See you then."
She nodded before exiting through the front door.
At exactly noon, Natasha knocked at Steve's apartment door. He opened it up. "One thing I love about having a spy for a friend is the fact that she'll always show up at the exact time she says."
She smiled at him. "It's my profession. I have to stick to it."
He closed the door behind him. "Where are we going first?"
"Have you eaten lunch yet?"
"I haven't eaten anything," he said, his stomach feeling a tad bit queasy from hunger.
"That's not good for a super soldier," Natasha said. "Let's go eat first. I know this one restaurant that's supposed to be like a 1950's place. Wanna' go there?"
"Sure. I wish I could've been around for the 50's. Seemed like a great time."
"Me too," Natasha agreed.
They left the apartment building, Natasha's car parked across the parking lot. "We taking your car?" he asked.
"Yep."
As they got inside her car, Steve turned to her. "Just wondering, but to all the SHIELD workers get Acuras?"
"Official car," she smirked. They backed out of the parking lot and started down the road.
"Traffic is a little lighter today than usual," Steve said.
"Yeah, it is."
They sat in silence for a little while. "Natasha, I just want to apologize for last night."
"What for? You did nothing wrong."
"I don't know what I was thinking. I didn't mean to scare you."
"Steve, I'm not mad at you. What matter is that you're still here."
"I guess," he murmured.
Natasha pursed her lips. "How about we focus on how awesome today is going to be?"
Steve grinned. "That sounds like a good idea."
"I know it's a good idea." She glanced over at him and smiled. "By the way, what songs were you humming last night?"
His cheeks turned a light shade of pink. "Oh, I hope I didn't scare you off with my tone deafness."
"It was great, Steve," she said. "I just want to know."
"Most of them were Glenn Miller songs."
"Glenn Miller. He sounds familiar."
Steve's face broke into another wide smile. "He's my favorite."
"Really? What are your favorite songs?"
"I really love 'In the Mood' and 'Chattanooga Choo-Choo' and…."
As he continued on, Natasha smiled to herself. She knew this was going to get his mind off of last night; she had remembered hearing a few songs of his somewhere a long time ago.
"…and you would not believe how devastated I was when he disappeared."
"Disappeared?" Natasha broke out of her thoughts and focused back on Steve.
He fiddled with his jacket. "Yeah, he vanished. He was in the military, you know."
"That's too bad," she said.
"Yeah," he sighed. "I had a lot of his records. They would always cheer me up."
An idea suddenly crossed Natasha's mind. Smiling, she said, "Yeah, I love those songs that cheer me right up."
"What songs would those be?"
Natasha thought for a moment. "I really like Russian songs," she said. "You know, being from Russia and all. I have to admit I also like some classical stuff too."
"Classical's good." He smiled.
"We're here," Natasha announced as she pulled into the parking lot.
Steve exited the car first, hurrying over to her side and opening up her door. She smiled at his unnecessary but kind gesture. She nodded to him, walking with him to the door. They were given a table, looking through the menus after they sat down. "Any other favorite musical artists?" Natasha asked, skimming through the food.
"Yes." He smiled, glancing up from his menu. "Tommy Dorsey, Harry James. The whole lot of them."
Natasha nodded, giving him a small grin before she skimmed back through the menu. Their waitress came by and took their orders.
"Well Natasha," Steve said, taking a sip of the milkshake he had, "what are you plans for after this?"
"Whatever you want to do."
Steve's eyes glimmered. "I'll let you choose."
Natasha glanced down at the table and drummed her fingers on the side. "Well, how about we go roller skating?"
Steve smiled. "Sounds good to me, but I warn you, I may be agile on my feet but not so much on wheels."
"I'll help you out."
Steve chuckled. "I can imagine that sight already."
"At least Tony isn't around to laugh."
"Or film," Steve added.
"Or film," Natasha repeated, her lips forming a tight lipped grin.
The waitress came back with their food. When she left, Steve picked his hamburger up. "I can't describe to you how much I love these."
"Aren't you glad we took you out to those fast food restaurants to get you familiarized with them again?"
"Yes indeed," he said, taking a huge bite out of the hamburger.
Natasha gave a quiet laugh as he ate. She looked down at her own burger, taking small bites of it. She wasn't used to eating such unhealthy food; but this was for Steve. Her cheeks grew warm as she thought of last night: how his hand curved on her back, how vivid his emotions were in his eyes, how gentle he was when he kissed her.
Her heart fluttered at the memories, and she looked back up with Steve, who was almost done with his burger. She grinned again, taking a few bites of hers.
They finished their meals quickly and silently, paying and slipping out the door. "I'm surprised you didn't order any more," Natasha said. "You still must be starving."
"I'll live," Steve said.
"It's not good with your metabolism."
"I'll be fine." He sent her a reassuring smile. As they neared the car, Steve turned to her. "Do you want me to drive?"
"It's okay," she told him. He rushed to the car, opening the door for her.
"It's a bit strange holding a door open for a driver," he remarked.
"It's sweet though," Natasha told him. He smiled bashfully at her.
Natasha started down the street. Steve turned away from the window to look at her. "Is that your natural hair color? Sorry if that's an inappropriate question," he added quickly.
She sent him a look that told him it was okay. "My hair is a darker red. It's like a red-brown, really."
"Why don't you leave it? You told me you don't like red."
"It's my cover. My identity around here."
"Why do you have to have a cover around us?" Steve asked, apparently forgetting about trying to be very polite.
Natasha stopped talking suddenly. He did have a point. She had told him that she wouldn't lie and that she would be honest; but why was she pretending still?
"I don't know Steve," she said quietly.
"You know I wouldn't ever judge you or leave you."
Her eyes burned, her vision growing watery. She blinked the tears away, scolding herself for feeling like this. She didn't know why she was crying; was it the fact that someone would actually be true to her? That she wouldn't be left behind and abused? "Steve, I trust you," she started.
"Why are you pretending?" he asked softly. "You're human too. That's what you told me last night."
"I don't want to be seen as weak."
"Natasha, think of everything you said to me last night. You have feelings. Telling me you don't want to be seen as weak is showing me you're strong."
"How so?" Everything she had told Steve last night seemed to disappear from her mind.
"You're telling me your fears."
A weight seemed to be lifted off her shoulders. Someone finally knew and they would never use it against her.
They sat in silence for the rest of the drive. When they pulled into the parking lot, Steve smiled. "It's time to get goofy," he announced.
Natasha had to grin. They got out of the car, Natasha beating Steve to her own door, and headed inside. After getting their skates, the laced them up and headed into the rink. Steve wobbled on his feet, hanging onto the wall. "It's really easy once you get the hang of it," Natasha told him, her eyes laughing as he almost fell.
He slipped, falling forward, before catching himself on the wall. He laughed. "But first I have to get past all this."
Natasha held his arm as they made slow laps around the rink. Steve stumbled a lot, occasionally falling down. Sometimes he would drag Natasha down with him, both of them laughing it off as they picked themselves up.
Slowly but surely Steve grew better. Still, he stumbled. Once when he did, Natasha giggled.
"Did I just hear Natasha Romanoff giggle?" Steve said as he picked himself up.
"What?" Natasha put on an air of mock defensiveness.
"Don't deny it."
"I do not giggle."
"Sure." He sent her a skeptical grin before skating ahead of her, falling again. She let out a laugh and skated towards him, helping him onto his feet. As he was being lifted up, he tugged on her, making her fall again. This time she landed in his lap. As they laughed they made eye contact, their laughter dying as their stare grew more intense. The space within them started closing, their hearts racing. They stopped when they were only a mere inch away from each other, the sounds of their breathing loud in each others ears. Natasha snapped back to reality first as Steve attempted to close the distance between them.
"Maybe we should stand up," she said, looking away.
Steve seemed to be jolted back to the current situation. Looking around, he gave a small grin. "That might be a good idea." Helping Natasha onto her feet, he wrapped his arm around hers and started skating around the rink. His skating skills seemed to have approved a lot, but Natasha barely noticed. Her mind rested on their arms being intertwined. She could feel his muscles brush against her arm. The thought of tearing Steve's shirt off just to feel them with her fingers crossed her mind, but she shooed it away as quickly as it came.
The speaker ahead came on, the jockey up in the music booth speaking over the microphone. Steve jumped, looking up at the ceiling before he laughed. "I forgot about these… speakers you have," he laughed.
Natasha smiled at him, listening to the jockey. "Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for a couple skate!" the jockey said over the speaker.
"Couple skate?" Steve looked over at Natasha. "Is this what I think it is?"
She nodded, slowly skating forward as the music changed to a slow song and the lighting changed. Steve's confused expression turned into a content, dreamier one. They made their way around the rink a few times before Steve pulled Natasha out to the middle. "Can you skate out here?" she asked him.
"Sure I can. I have somebody great with me." Pulling his arm away and grabbing her wrists, he suddenly managed to spin around, teetering slightly but regaining his balance by throwing his arms out. Natasha grinned wider, stopping with him. She slipped her hand into his, their fingers interlocking. Steve stared at their hands, wide-eyed, before looking back at Natasha who was sending him an admirable look.
Smiling again, they skated around the sides of the rink until the song ended. As everybody came back into the rink, they continued to skate around the sides with their hands still entwined. Their loving gazes they sent at each other turned into enjoyable, happy glances, laughing for no apparent reason.
Steve finally let go of her first, daring to go to the middle of the rink again. Natasha followed him, and they skated around a bit wildly.
After skating for three hours, they left the skating rink, their cheeks hurting from smiling so much. "That was a lot of fun," Steve said when they got back in the car.
"It was," Natasha agreed, still laughing. "I still can't breathe."
"I don't think I've ever seen you laugh for that long."
"I don't remember ever laughing that long either." She backed out of the parking lot, their grins still plastered on their face as they headed down the street.
Steve glanced over at Natasha, his wide grin turning into a softer, compassionate smile. "I like it when you smile," he said suddenly.
She glanced over at him, her cheeks growing hot again. "You have a great smile yourself."
Inside, she felt something warm in her chest and stomach. When she looked at him, it seemed to grow. Just thinking of him made it seem to pulse. She wondered if maybe she felt something for him; something deeper than a friendship. She thought back to last night and the kiss they had shared, and then at the skating rink. She had assumed both were attributed to being caught up in the moment, but now she was starting to have doubts. Maybe there was something else.
Pushing the thought out of her mind, she asked, "Do you have a CD player?"
Steve looked up from his lap and over at her. "Yeah, but I don't really have any CDs. Why?"
"Just wondering."
No more words were exchanged until she pulled into the parking lot of a music store. "Why are we here?" Steve asked.
"I want to see if there's any new music." She glanced over at him. "You want to come with?"
"Of course." They left the car and went inside the store.
"I'll be right back," Natasha told Steve. He nodded, meandering among the CDs, feeling overwhelmed at all the artists and types of music. After what seemed like ages, Natasha came back with a bag in her hand.
"What's that?" he asked.
"Just some of my music." She smiled. "Let's go."
It was five-thirty as they pulled into Steve's apartment building. Natasha joined Steve on his trip upstairs to his apartment. They both entered his apartment. "Natasha, I want to thank you for a wonderful day," he said. "It really cheered me up."
"Me too," Natasha said. "We have to do this a LOT more."
"Agreed." He smiled.
Natasha held the music store bag out to Steve. "I bet you're wondering why I brought this up," she started. "Here you go."
Steve took the bag, puzzled. Reaching into it, he picked up a CD. As he looked at it, a wide grin broke out on his face. "Glenn Miller!" he gasped. He looked back up at her, joy dancing in his eyes. "Nat, you're the best!" He hugged her.
As they broke away, Natasha said, "How about we find that CD player and have a dance to real music?"
Steve hurried to his room, bringing out an unopened box. They hooked it up. Steve opened up his CD and put it in, Natasha helping him with all the buttons. "What track do you want?"
Grinning, he looked down at the CD case. "The track numbers correspond with the CD player numbers, right?"
"Yep."
He pushed the forward button a few times until it stopped on a slow track. Clarinets and trumpets started playing. "Moonlight Serenade," he told her, holding his hand out to her as they stood up.
Natasha took it, and together they danced slowly. She rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes to take everything in. The music filled the room. She breathed in his cologne. She rather liked it, and started memorizing exactly how it made her feel. She also set to remember how rough his hands felt in contrast to his gentle touch, how hard his muscles were compared to the softness of his personality, how human Steve Rogers was compared to the perfection of Captain America.
As the song came to an end, Steve let go of her. She backed away and started towards the door. "Bye, Steve," she said softly.
"Natasha," he blurted suddenly. She turned around. He closed his mouth, as if contemplating to say something. "I—" he started. "I love you."
The words stuck her. She told herself she would never fall in love. It was a dangerous thing to do.
"I know its wrong, Natasha, but you make me feel—you make me feel something that nothing else does," he continued rather quickly. "I don't know if you feel the same way as me, but—I love you, Natasha."
"Oh, Steve," she whispered. The feeling from before came back. Her heart pounded and her head spun. She ran towards him, throwing her arms around his and crushing her lips on his, kissing him passionately and fiercely. He was taken aback at first before he kissed her with the same hardness, his arms low on her back, pulling her as close as possible to him.
Her tongue broke through his lips, and he accepted it. Their breathing was jagged, taken between breaks that barely lasted a second. They made their way over the couch where he sat down and put her on his lap. Her fingers groped at his hair, making it go askew. She pushed herself against him, eliminating any space between them. One of his hands rested on her legs, the other on the middle of her back. A sudden urge to go to far lengths with him appeared in her mind, but she knew he would never dare do that and she admired that.
She shifted her weight to her hip so she was now laying sideways, her tongue rubbing against his rapidly. He broke away after what seemed like ages, instead resting his forehead against hers. Her fingers went from his hair to his jawbone, touching it faintly. He moved his head to where he could kiss her jaw line. He moved from the middle to her face to her forehead, leaving little kisses as he moved.
At that moment he realized he wanted nothing more than her and she realized she wanted nothing more than him.
After more kissing, they stopped, their breathing heavy. She rested her head on his shoulder. "I have something to confess," she whispered.
"What?" he whispered back.
"I love Steve Rogers."
"Guess what? I love Natasha Romanoff."
She nuzzled her head a little further into Steve, her eyes closed. Slowly, her breathing steadied, sending her to sleep as she did so. He started dozing off his self before he realized she was asleep on him. Picking her up in his arms, he went to his room, laying her out on his bed. He kneeled by the bed for a few minutes, watching her sleep. He bent over and kissed her forehead, humming "Moonlight Serenade" as he left the room to go sleep on the couch.
She opened her eyes as he left, hearing the song. Smiling to herself, she closed her eyes again and inhaled his scent from his pillow. It was growing dark outside, the moon shining through the window.
What a wonderful moonlight serenade, she thought to herself before falling back asleep.
