Title: I Want You Just The Way You Are
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~1,300
Characters: Steve/Natasha
Prompt: "All the time Natasha tries to hook Steve up with various ladies, and he obliges, until he realizes he enjoys these little dates because she's the one who set them up."
Summary: She sets him up on these dates in the first place, so it's perfectly normal for her to want to know how they went, especially since she's a nosy person to begin with.

For: 1critic

I Want You Just The Way You Are

She stopped telling herself that she doesn't wait for him to get home.

Because that's what she does and there's no harm in admitting it. She sets him up on these dates in the first place, anyway, so it's perfectly normal for her to want to know how they went, especially since she's a nosy person to begin with. So tonight she waits on the floor (yes, floor, because Tony doesn't know how to be anything less than extravagant) that she and Maria share in the Stark Tower, and that's how Steve finds her when he lets himself in a little after 11:00 – tucked underneath a blanket, watching reruns of How I Met Your Mother while eating a pint Ben & Jerry's Half Baked from the carton. He's a little more dressed up than usual, because his date wanted to go somewhere upscale, and he put something in his hair to style it.

As much as she loves Steve in a suit, she loves it more when his hair is untouched and perfectly disheveled like it should be.

He sets his blazer on the table and settles in beside her on the couch. "How was it?" she asks.

"It went well, I think. We hit it off. And she's a dame." He pauses as she stretches her legs over his lap, and he pulls the blanket over so she stays covered. She feeds him a spoonful of ice-cream and he licks his lips as he swallows. "She was sweet and proper, classy—everything you said she'd be. You know how to pick them."

"But," she prompts, knowing there's more. There's always more.

He chuckles a little and pushes his fingers through his hair, ruffling it out a little, and it makes her smile.

"I'm not on her level," he explains.

"Captain America isn't on the same level as a senator's daughter?" Natasha asks, amused. "I find that hard to believe. Is she some sort of superhero herself or something?"

"Not that I'm aware of, no," he says with a laugh. "I'm just not upper class like her. She has different standards, you know?"

She nods, feeding him another spoonful of ice-cream, then turns back to the screen when he doesn't say anything after a moment. She's curious, obviously, but his dating life is probably the only thing she never presses for details when he doesn't want to give them up, because she knows he'll tell her if he wants to or something's important.

So she curls into his side like she does whenever their talks about his dates have come to an end and Steve relaxes against the cushions, lays an arm across the back of the couch and plays idly with the curls of her hair as they watch.

She's not really sure when the cuddling thing between them started.

They've always hung out after his dates even after he's finished telling her how they went, and after the first few dates, there came these touches. They were small and hesitant at first – his fingers in her hair or playing with the hem of her shirt, his arm or leg brushing against hers – and somehow she got the sense that he wanted her closer. So one night she laid her head on his shoulder and he relaxed almost instantly. After that his touches grew more frequent, still gentle but less hesitant, and she'll just smile and press herself closer.

Two more episodes go by before Steve says, "Hey, Nat," in this soft voice, and she tilts her head back to look at him. "I've begun to notice something."

She raises her eyebrows when he doesn't continue. "Care to share it with the class?"

He gets this smile on his face and looks back at the TV, though she can tell he's not really watching anymore. "Every girl you pick for me… They have a lot in common. They're beautiful and intelligent and kind. They're perfect on paper, but none of them end up working out. There's always… something."

"Something," she repeats, tilting her head.

"Yeah, something—there's always one thing that wouldn't make a difference to anyone else but me. And…" He glances at her. "And I think you see these things, but send me to them anyway. These girls are perfect on paper but not for me, and you set me up with them."

"And why would I do that?" she asks, and her voice is soft when it comes out, and she has a feeling she knows what he'll say next.

He just looks at her, and it feels like he knows that she knows what's coming next and he's trying to figure out if she wants him to actually say it, and that's kind of scary. He's not the first person that's been able to read her, not the first person she's grown comfortable around or doesn't put up a fight with when they want her to let them in. But it's different when it's him and she can't explain why, but it is, and the scary part is that she doesn't mind. He doesn't know everything about her like Clint or Nick, but somehow he knows just enough.

"I think that maybe you're trying to see if I'll settle for one of them."

She meets his eyes.

"I think," he goes on slowly, squeezing her hand a little, "that it freaked you out a little when it was Maria or Sharon, because they're a little more like you and you could tell that I liked that. So you find these perfect girls that you know I won't go for because you feel safe leaving me with them." She presses her lips together. "Tell me, am I close?"

She doesn't answer, just leans over and sets her ice-cream onto the coffee table, but then Steve touches her arm gently and she looks at him again.

"Maria and Sharon… They're friends, andI only hit it off with them because they reminded me of you."

"Steve," she says.

"I want you, Nat," he tells her, and despite everything, she feels herself smile ever so slightly. "Forgive me for being so forward, but I want you in every sense of the word. Every woman you set me up with, I compare to you, and I know I shouldn't. You shouldn't compare women, ever, but—"

"Steve," she interrupts, placing a hand on his cheek.

He exhales a laugh and ducks his head, running a hand through his hair again. "I'm sorry for just… I didn't mean to just dump all that on you."

She tilts his head, making him look at her again. "I'm glad that you did," she tells him.

"You're so confusing sometimes, Nat," he says, and he's laughing a little again, mostly at himself. "I was waiting for you since New York, for you to give me some sort of sign. I started working for S.H.I.E.L.D. and I got to know you better, but you kept trying to set me up and I thought you weren't interested." He takes her hand in his, squeezing gently and smoothing his thumb over her knuckles. "But when I finally started going on these dates, you acted like… like you weren't happy with it, and I wasn't sure what to think anymore."

She smiles and pushes her fingers through his hair, messing it a little.

After a moment, she finally says, "When you take me out, can it not be anywhere where you'll have to put gel in your hair?"

He blinks slowly at first, letting her words sink in, and then exhales, almost in relief. "Yeah, I hate having to style it," he admits. She giggles a little, for no real reason, and he smiles a little wider and says, "You have a beautiful laugh."

"I have a beautiful everything," she says, and she's joking, but then he says, "I know," without missing a beat, meaning it, and she sort of has to kiss him after that.