A/N: Sooo, I don't own these characters individually or as a team. Also, this could be a one shot or not. Depending on everyone's response and rather or not I can think of anything to go along with this plot. I'm rating it T just because I don't know where its going. Oh and FYI, SPOILERS for Cap 2 ahead.
It was an unusually warm mid October evening. The city was, as always, alive and buzzing with people and lights as everyone tried to make their way home from a late day at the office or out to their long awaited, end of the week social appointments with family, friends, or random strangers they had decided to go on a blind date with.
The seven figures walked leisurely down the side street after climbing out of the millionaire's luxurious transportation for the night. They had all tried to convince him to just use a few of his...normal cars... for their nightly transportation, but since it was his idea that they meet up for a night out he had not so graciously declined their request not to draw too much attention to themselves as they just wanted to enjoy a low key evening out with friends. He had kindly replied that nothing he did was low key. Besides, he had let the good captain pick the venue, he should at least get to pick everything else. After all, it was to celebrate him finally being able to make it back to New York and have his tower completely up and running again after that adopted demigod with the sibling inferiority complex had tried to destroy it with his army of miscreants. Yeah, things were finally starting to become more normal for him. And he was glad to be able to spend some time with his friends again, even if they all weren't able to make it.
"So what have you been up to?" the archer asked the red head, who smiled before replying.
"Oh, nothing much. Just hanging around in D.C., regulating things," she smiled again, causing him to smile back at her.
He was happy. And right now that mainly stemmed from seeing a genuine smile on one of his best, and oldest friend's face. Especially after she had been so broken with everything that had happened in the last year after she, the captain, and the falcon had taken down Shield or Hydra or...it didn't matter. He still wasn't quite sure what had happened even though they had explained it to him more than once in five different ways from the view points of five different people. Well he understood, he just had a hard time accepting the fact that he had been used as a pawn in aiding the very people he had been trying to destroy, though not as hard a time as Natasha.
He had seen her on television during the press conference. She had called him the day prior to update him on all that had happened as he would be just as personally affected by it as she was. To the untrained eye, the woman was cool, calm, and collected. But he had known this woman for years, he could see the cracks in her facade. And that scared him, because even he could rarely see wrinkles in the normally flawless armory of the black widow. He had called to check on her, and she had stated that she was fine. She had just exposed, to the entire world, all the things that she had been trying to hide and distance her self from and now she would forever be tied to those very same despicable deeds. For alot of people, her name would not be able to be mentioned without them linking her to all of the bad she had done. Thankfully though, there were still a lot of people that also remembered the good she had done, and being a part of the avengers definitely didn't hurt. Everyone remembered what happened in New York, even if they didn't quite understand it. She had fought along side the beloved Captain America, Iron Man, who the civilians seemed to be obsessed with, the mysterious and intriguing demi god, and the big green guy that kicked alien ass all over New York that day, even if he managed to destroy a few buildings in the process. They loved the two spies just as much, especially Natasha. The men really just didn't give a damn what she had done in her past and would be happy to die as a result of being caught in her web, and a lot of the women admired her for being the bad ass femme fatale of the team showing that she could hold her own with the boys. But still, she had been spiraling.
He had tried to get back to her, but with all of their covers blown, him being so far away during the time SHIELD had fallen, and her pushing everyone, including himself away, there was only so much he could do. So he had left his dear friend in the capable hands of their captain. He had called to ask Steve to keep an eye on her until he was able to make it back because she didn't sound like she was faring too well. He had confirmed that she wasn't but had also gone on to tell Clint why the woman shouldn't let her past consume her and how he would not allow her to let this destroy her. Clint had smiled, he was put at ease by Steve's words. If the man said he was going to do something, he was going to do it. Even if that meant likely getting himself killed by The Widow herself for pestering her and making her accept human interaction when all she wanted to do was be left alone with her own destructive thoughts. He had then grown a little more worried, but not for Natasha.
But he had kept his head low and had been able to make it safely back into the states a few months later, and surprisingly, Steve was still alive and Natasha had not locked herself in her apartment and boarded up all the windows in an attempt to simply cease to exist. Things were still not great, but they were not as bad as he would have expected it to be. Steve was still going strong, hammering away at the walls the red head kept trying to put up. He could tell that she was frustrated with him, but she seemed to be on a downward slope on her want to kill him. He assumed that had peaked that night Natasha had told him that she had entered Steve's apartment while he was asleep and stood over him wanting so very badly to use one of her now dusty weapons on him, but she had gotten her wits about her and climbed back quietly through the window, without him even knowing. Or so she thought. He had voiced his concerns to Steve and told him that maybe he should back off a little. The soldier had told him that he had known the spy was there, to which his mouth fell open. No one knew where Natasha was unless she wanted them to know. Maybe she was out of practice, since she was no longer doing missions consistently. Steve then went on to explain that when you are fighting a war against someone you have to get to know that enemy inside and out, even better than they know themselves to effectively have the upper hand. And the enemy that he had been fighting to save Natasha those last few months was the spy herself.
He had responded with a "Wow." Then he realized that this was why their team worked so well. With all of the abilities that each one of them possessed, someone else on the team had a way of minimizing one of the many ways that they could be a threat. Giving them all a more even playing field in relation to each other. That and the fact that they had all grown to respect each other, and also had some sort of weird dynamic or feelings towards each other that made them all a little uneasy at times. He was sure it was just probably the feelings that came a long with a stable friendship or family type setting, but still, it was new for most if not all of them.
They finally made it to the entrance of the building. It was nothing fancy. A red brick building with a single red door, manned by no one on the outside. "Are you sure this is the right place?" the good doctor asked, breaking from his side discussion with Agent Hill to address the group. He was unsure. The placed looked a little sketchy and the big guy did not do sketch very well.
"Yeah," Sam agreed. "This doesn't exactly look like the place you told us about."
"If you ruined this night for me Rogers, I swear," Tony threatened. "If I've put on one of my good suits for a bunch of drunks and has-bins, we are going to have a serious problem."
"This is it guys," Steve told him, pushing his way to the front of the group to get to the door no one else seemed interested in opening at that time.
It was one of the clubs that had been opened back in the 1940s. A nice little cabaret that had been really popular and drew a lot of attraction from tourists and locals alike. It was the first place that had popped into his head after being told he had been given the privileges of choosing the night's venue. Sure, he had not been allowed to go in back in the days, especially since everyone then thought he was a twelve year old little boy, but Bucky had managed to get them in on a few occasions by wooing the women that were working the doors every so often.
"Here," he said opening the door, "see for yourself."
He allowed them all to enter before stepping in behind them. A smile instantly appeared on his face as he took in the entire site of a place the represented a world that made sense to him. Everything had been preserved almost just as it was, maybe slightly updated, when they used to sneak in to watch the shows and steal a few drinks when possible. There was burgundy velvet, high back bench like seating lining much of the walls in the viewing areas, with dark wooden tables in front. There were extra large burgundy leather ottomans placed strategically around the room and circular tables of various sizes with a few squared tables with chairs, all the same colored dark wood. The floors were completely wooden, though lighter than the tables and chairs. The theater lights embedded in the high ceiling along with the table lamps surrounded by a red casing blended with the stage light to give the place just the right ambiance. The bar was closer to the entrance, and then on the adjacent wall, towards the front of the place was a large, red wood stage with a large wooden grand piano to the left and burgundy velvet curtains lining the back drop.
"Nice," Maria said in awe, drawing Steve's attention away from the venue and back to his friends. He saw a huge smile of appreciation on Bruce's face, and Tony's jaw was almost on the floor. Everyone one else wore smiles similar to Bruce's. Then his eyes were drawn down as he was hit it the chest by a mass of long, rich red curls as the woman standing just in front of him turned suddenly to face him. The bright red lipstick drawing his eyes directly to her plump red lips as they turned up into a smile. His eyes darted back to here eyes as she began to speak.
"Oh, nice choice Cap," she said teasingly. "Glad to see we haven't completely extinguished your 40's taste." She leaned in a little closer causing her body to push up against his a little, making any outsider think that something more might have been going on, but it was just that they had grown so comfortable with each other that they often didn't even notice how that may have appeared to others. She whispered, "And I think Tony and Clint really appreciate the female staff." He looked up to see the two men ogling one of the waitresses as she passed by with a tray full of drinks in her tight little bustier and short skirt, thigh highs, and heels.
His smile grew wider at the look on their faces. Natasha laughed, then grabbed his hand. "Com'on." she led them to one of the larger circular tables with chairs surrounding half of the table and the other half having a semicircular velvet bench as seating.
"Man this place is really nice," Sam said hitting him on the back. "I always new the olden days had some nice spots, but this is something else."
Tony cleared his throat, "I'll be the judge of that." He then turned around and stopped one of the waitresses going by. "Uh Miss," Natasha and Maria rolled their eyes as he took a second to give the young woman a once over before finally speaking again. "Can we get bottle of your best whiskey."
"Yes sir," the young woman told him before he continued.
"I'm serious, don't hold out on me. You are going to make or break my night depending on what you bring back to this table," the young woman laughed.
"Yes, Mr. Stark," she said in a more flirty tone, as she leaned in closer to him. "I'll make sure we bring out the good stuff from the back."
She walked away and Tony leaned back in his chair to get a good look as she retreated towards the bar. After the young woman was out of sight, he turned back to the group at the table. "Huh, she knew who I was." He said as if he was surprised.
"Tony, you have your name on the side of one of the largest buildings in New York," Bruce told him.
"Not to mention your face all over time square," Sam chimed in.
"Do I sense jealousy?" Tony asked to no one in particular.
"No, but you should sense me calling Pepper if you keep flirting with everything in a pair of heels," Maria chimed in.
He looked at her for a second before narrowing his eyes, "I'm not hitting on you or Red over there."
"Because you know better," the women said almost in unison.
Soon the young lady returned with seven glasses of whiskey and a half empty bottle that read Macallan 1926, causing Tony to sit up straight in his chair, before turning to her. "How did you get this?"
"You asked for the best whiskey we had Mr. Stark, and I promised not to hold out on you," she turned away from the table being sure to give Tony and Steve a nice full view of her backside, causing Maria to again roll her eyes.
"You," Tony said turning to Steve, "how do you know about this place? Are you some kind of trust fund baby or something we don't know about?" Steve laughed as lights dimmed a little more and a man sat down at the piano.
"Relax Stark," he told him. "Believe it or not this stuff wasn't nearly as expensive back in the day. As a matter of fact, the majority of the things you consider valuable today were worth very little value back in my day."
"Watch it Gramps," Tony said causing Steve to smirk and shake his head in disapproval of the term.
Everyone turned their attention to the stage as the master of ceremonies stepped onto stage, and easily began speaking over the soft sounds emanating from the piano on his right.
He bid everyone a good evening and introduced himself before telling them that they had a good show lined up for them but that they would also be having some open mic time where they would be allowing guests to come up from the audience and perform. He then proceeded to list some of the scheduled acts for the night while cracking a few jokes at the expense of the bar tender, the pianist, a few of the regulars and even himself. He then left the stage to allow the first act of a jazz trio to take the stage.
They all began having some side conversations while enjoying the live music and sipping on the expensive whiskey that Tony was still trying to figure out how the owner had gotten his hands on it. The second act was a duo of a man and woman singing I've Got the World on a String by Frank Sinatra.
"This place is awesome," Natasha leaned over and whispered to Steve. "I really like the setting and all. Thanks for bringing us."
He smiled at her, "My pleasure Nat." He smiled as he saw her attention turn back to the stage and she began to sway back and forward to the music. He knew she would like it. He knew she liked this kind of music. He also knew a whole lot more about her, things that he would have never thought he would have learned judging from their first few encounters with each other. Sure they had initially taken kindly to each other on their initial meeting aboard the helicarrier but he knew right away that she was a very guarded and closed off person. He also, although not naturally that way back in the day, had become more similar to her in that manner after waking up in a 1940s apartment in the middle of 2011 Manhattan.
He and the black widow had spent a large amount of time together in the past year, and they had had no other choice then to let down a few of their own walls and break down a few of each others in the process if they planned on surviving it in one piece. They managed, mostly. He doesn't know where but somewhere between trying to prevent Natasha from offing herself, either actively from one of her pistols or passively rotting away in the corner of her apartment, trying to track down Bucky, and guiding them both back into a somewhat normal life after everything they found comfort and familiarity in had been stripped completely away from them for the second time in both their lives, she had lost some of her flare, some of the confidence that had made her Natasha Romanoff. She had lost that complete and utter confidence in herself no matter what she was doing or how she had to go about doing it. When he had brought this up, she had shrugged it off as if she didn't know what he was talking about. She had told him maybe he was thinking about Natalia or the Black Widow before sadly replying, they were both dead.
He had assured that the best part of them weren't but again she had shrugged, grabbed the pint of Ben and Jerry's and headed back to her bedroom. This is where he found himself most perplexed with their entire journey. He had finally gotten her to come out of her depressive state but what he hadn't expected was for her to emerge as this lack luster version of herself. It had gotten better over the past few months as he kept pushing her and with some advice from Clint telling him to take of the kiddie gloves now that the hard part was over. He had told him that if he wanted the old Nat back, he would have to do things that would make her come back to the surface. But the trick was doing that without tipping the Widow back into her state of personal despair. So with bated breath, he had taken Clint's advice.
He still remembered the look on her when he had initially put their plan into action.
"What did you just say to me?" she asked him with a look of disbelief and agitation on her face.
"I said," he started in a cool and even tone, "I sure wouldn't want to be caught in a fight with you right now. You'd be more of a liability than an asset."
She stared at him with a look that said she was debating either retreating back into her room to sulk or to jump on him and rip off one of his appendages.
He walked pass her in a nonchalant manner, brushing his shoulder against hers and suppressing a smirk until his back was to her. She turned to watch him retreat into the kitchen, her eyes shooting lasers through him.
He had continued to poke and prod and push at her buttons until he started to see the old Natasha resurface. He still didn't remember what were the final words that had set her off that day when she finally started to come back to him. That was probably because the memory of whatever had happened just prior was wiped clear by the surprise of suddenly feeling his back collide with the floor as he stared up at the ceiling. He blinked a few times before realizing the red head glaring down at him as she stood over him in a fight stance.
"Natasha," he managed to spit out, "what the hell?"
"Don't even Rogers," she told him as she disengaged from the stance. "You deserved it. You've been shit talking for the past few weeks." Then she had walked out of the apartment leaving him there on the floor.
"Holly hell," Tony said, bringing Steve back into the present. "She is smokin'."
"Yes she is," Sam agreed with a grin as all the guys eyes were drawn towards the stage.
"She's almost hotter than you Red," Tony decided to prod, causing Natasha's eyes to shift towards him. "Of course, not when you're in your widow suite. But you don't do that anymore so I'd pretty much say she has you beat."
"Shut up Tony," she scoffed at him.
"Don't worry about him Nat," Maria started, before looking back at the stage, "that bitch couldn't pull off my suit let alone yours."
The two women shared a smile. She loved being catty with Maria. They did it more as a dark humor type of deal more than anything but that just made it more fun. The two women had become best friends over the past few years. Natasha had gained some other female friends along the way, but she didn't have as much in common with them as she had with Maria. Well maybe except for Sif. Yeah, she liked Sif too. It was a shame that she was so far away.
"Whoa, and she can sing too," Tony started. "Puts your karaoke skills to shame doesn't she? Think she has any super powers?"
"Naw, I don't think she's as good as Nat," Bruce chimed in, just wanting to join the anti Tony's argument team.
"Thanks Bruce," she said giving him a smile.
"Well the next one is an open mic slot," Tony told her. "I'll leave you alone for the rest of the night if you go up there and wow me. Show me that you still have it in you to seduce any man into willingly climbing into your web."
She rolled her eyes at him.
"Now com'on Tash," Steve whispered using her newest nick name that only he used, as he leaned in closer. "I know you are not going to pass up an opportunity to shut Tony up so we can all enjoy the rest of our night."
She smiled at him, subconsciously biting her bottom lip. He continued. "Get up there and show him you still got it. Shut Tony Stark up. For me, please."
"I heard that," Tony budded in, but Natasha's eyes did not leave Steve's neither did his hers.
"Okay," she complied, "you asked for it."
She got up from the table and approached the side of the stage where she saw the master of ceremonies getting ready to climb back up on stage. The truth is she was a little afraid. She didn't know why, she had done this and similar things hundreds of times on missions and otherwise, but she didn't do missions anymore. And while she had gotten the battle side of the Black Widow to successfully merge with Natasha Romanoff, she was still having trouble merging the confident, seductive spy with the woman she had been forced to become. But thankfully, she had friends to lean on while she figured out how to put herself back together. One of those friends being Steve who even got on the blood and filth covered floors to help her find the pieces and then helped her hold the pieces in an acceptable form until the glue holding them together had dried and she was no longer at a dangerously high risk of falling apart again. Although she still felt pretty high risk at times. Those were the times when she would show up at is door at 3 in the morning with an unsure 'Hey', and he would just allow her entrance into his apartment and bed and she would cuddle up close to him soaking up his warmth as if she had to consume his life force in order to keep her heart beating.
She got an idea as she walked up on the stage after hearing the master of ceremonies introduce her.
He saw her go over to the piano player and whisper something in his ear. The man smiled at her and nodded, before turning back to his piano. The lights dimmed again as she approached the mic. Steve mused to himself. He took in the dark red curls which she had let grow out and now fell slightly below her shoulders. The red lipstick she wore accentuated her lips in away that he was sure just about every man in the room were staring at them. That is if they weren't staring at her curvy figure in the tight black dress she wore. It was a more modest dress, for this day and age he thought. The sleeves stopped right above her elbows and the neckline was a low cut v shape showing off a good amount of cleavage. The middle of the dress hugged her small waist before expanding some to stretch over her hips and thighs in what he had learned was a pencil shaped bottom. She had taught him that when she had caught him staring at a woman in the park wearing a skirt of the same style. He really liked the style, it reminded him some of the 40's in that it wasn't exactly pants, but it wasn't a mini skirt either. It was a modest style. But looking at Natasha on the stage, he was starting to think that the woman could take the modesty out of an over sized onesie jumpsuit.
The music started to flow from the piano as she closed her eyes, preparing to shut Tony Stark up, he thought.
She started to sing causing the few eyes in the room that weren't already on her to turn in her direction.
"It's not so easy, loving me."
Her eyes opened and immediately found Steve's across the room, as she continued. She saw the smile disappear from his face, as he looked like he had just swallowed a frog as a look of realization dawned on his face. She assumed that she had conveyed her message well enough. This performance was not for Tony. It was for him
"It gets so complicated, all the things you've gotta be.
Everything's changing, but you're the truth.
I'm amazed by all your patience. All the things I put you through."
"Well, this is awkward," she said drawing his attention to her.
The truth is, it was awkward. He was never supposed to find out about her real side-mission on their fake mission.
He had confronted her and asked her what she was doing and why wasn't she at the planned rendezvous point. She wasn't able to pin point if he was more upset because he had been left in the dark, are because he was worried about her. But now was not the time to try to decipher the question. She was on a mission. She had pointed out to him that they were indeed different. They were a team, both needed for the mission, but also both needing individual motives to agree to accomplish said mission. She had had little time to relay this message, thankfully as she was not sure what she would say to the good captain in order to preserve her trustworthiness in his eyes, before Batroc barged in. At least she thought he trusted her.
The French criminal wasted little time after barging into the room. He quickly pulled out a small ball and tossed it in their direction. Cap with his abnormally sharp reflexes had blocked the bomb with his shield, swatting it away from them. He then turned quickly, to her. And she anticipating his next move and ability to save both their lives just grabbed on to him securing the physical attachment he had made as he wrapped his arm around her waist. In a fluid motion he jumped off of the side of one of the desk and used his shield and his body to protect her as he barricaded them through the window of a side viewing room in order to further protect them from the explosion. Her body, not having the perfected serum that his had, had felt more of the collision with the window and explosion than he had. Although she was sure he felt more of it than she had, he was just able to absorb it better.
"Okay, that one's on me," she admitted and accepted.
But he was not bought by her willingness to accept responsibility for what had just happened. "Damn right it is," he said before getting up and walking away from her.
She let out a groan of disappointment, frustration, and embarrassment as he walked away from her, though none of those emotions were directed towards him. She got up and followed him, wanting to apologize, but deciding against it in the end.
"And when I'm about to fall, somehow you're always waiting.
Your open arms to catch me.
You're gonna save me from myself. From myself, yes.
You're gonna save me from myself."
"Steve please, just...," she started loudly before drifting into a whisper, "just go away."
She had been barricaded in her apartment for the last two weeks. She had eaten little more than stale cereal and spoiled milk, and molded bread. And truth be told, she was out of that a couple of days ago. She didn't have an appetite, simply put. People who didn't exist, didn't have a need for food. She didn't exist anymore, at least not in any way that mattered to her or made her want to get off of the floor in the corner of her living room next to the dark window with the black curtains, her head leaning on her right hand trying to stay focused in the small sliver of light that was somehow finding its way through. The human part of her was trying desperately to get some sunlight but the more conscious, depressed part of her brain forbade her from opening up the curtains or going outside. That side was currently calling her weak and berating he for craving the light source and not having ended it a long time ago.
'If you were really as strong as you claimed to be, you wouldn't have gotten so twisted in the head by them. If you were really that strong you would have ended it before they had a chance to get to you.'
"But I was six years old," the human voice in her head cried back to the monster tormenting voice mocking her. "I was only six." She was overcome with sorrow and guilt for that six year old little girl. Sorrow because she had hurt so much, and guilt because she had been too weak to stop it and save her.
The tears began to fall as she curled further into herself, sobs racking her. She had forgotten that Steve had threatened to break the door down and did not register the swift, yet strong hit to the door. She had not noticed him entering, but suddenly felt strong arms around her, picking her up off of the floor.
Instinctively she wrapped her arms around him and cried into the crook of his neck and shoulder. She hadn't even noticed it was him until he spoke to her, not that she cared. It could have just as well been someone out to kill her and put an end to her suffering, which would have been welcomed at that time as she was not strong enough to do it herself.
"Shh," he started as he passed his hands trough her lengthening red curls. "Nat, you're okay."
The truth was she was not okay, but he wouldn't leave her side until she was. If she had somehow gotten the courage to end her life during the next few weeks or months for that matter, she would have had to knock him unconscious before doing so as he was not gone from her side long enough for her to concoct and carry out a plan. Yes, he had taken all of her guns, and he had given up on his search momentarily, for his best friend. His best friend who had been held captive and brainwashed to become the exact opposite of himself. And for that she had felt even more guilty, but he told her that she was just as important to him as Bucky was. He had already loss Bucky and now had a chance to get him back, but he was not willing to lose her in that process.
"Ooooh, oh yeah," she continued looking him in the eyes as she began to sway her hips a little more to the music. She tilted her head to the side and looked down at the mic before pouting her lips and looking back at him through her long eyelashes. She saw him straighten up a little more in his seat.
His eyes flickered to the few others at the table to see if they were seeing the same thing he was. They all seemed engulfed in the performance that she had began putting on, and not wanting to miss a moment of it himself, his eyes were drawn back to the woman on the stage who had not looked at any other person in the room since she had began performing. He was sure, she would be in his lap giving him a personal dance had they been some where alone.
"My love is tainted, by your touch.
Well some guys have shown me aces,
but you've got that royal flush.
I know it's crazy, every day.
Well tomorrow may be shaky, but you never turn away."
The smile on Tony's face gradually transformed into a look of pure curiosity as he realized their little red head was putting on a show specifically for someone in the audience. He would have said it was him, a show just to show him that she could still wow a crowed and place every man within eyesight under her spell, but she was not looking at him. His brows furrowed and his eyes narrowed. He began scanning the room. Who was she...?
His eyes feel on Steve and the smile completely faltered. 'No,' he thought. He then looked back at Natasha who was now all but molesting the microphone stand as she continued to put on a show for... His eyes quickly went back to Steve, who was staring intently at the stage and looked as if he had just got kicked in the chest by a horse. He then turned quickly back to Natasha and slowly followed her line of vision.
He let out an inaudible gasp. Captain America and Black Widow. What the hell had he missed while he was in Los Angeles? Oh someone was going to give him some answers. Right after Natasha finished spinning her web that no doubt had began drawing their virtuous captain to his death. 'What a lovely way to go', he thought to himself as a smile appeared on his face. 'Good for you Rogers.'
"Don't ask me why I'm crying,
cause when I start to crumble,
you know how to keep me smiling.
You always save me from myself, from myself, myself."
She didn't even remember how she had gotten to his door. She had left her apartment with all intentions of going for a run to clear her head of that voice. That pestering voice that would always question her about her personal life. 'Why are you doing this?' or 'Nat, really? Why are you listening to this person? What do you want?'
Yes, that obnoxious voice that she would always do her best to ignore and focus on her missions, as that was when it usually decided to rear it's ugly head. But lately there were no missions to distract her, and that voice had been becoming more prominent and more frequent. She had just gotten over wanting to actively cease to exist, but this voice was threatening to drive her right back over that ledge.
Everything between stepping off of her block and seeing his face as he opened his door to his apartment was a blur. Her run turned into a walk as the voice would simply just not let her focus on anything else.
"Nat?" his face twisted in concern. "What are you doing here this time of night? What's wrong?"
She hadn't even registered that her face was wet with tears until he reached out a hand a wiped away a few freshly fallen tears. She turned away from him. She did not cry, especially in front of other people...unless it was a ploy to get them to do what she wanted or give her the information she wanted.
"Natasha," he warned her in a slightly more stern tone, though still concerned as he picked up on the fact that she had realized a weakness in her wall and was trying desperately to build it back up.
She did not reply. So he reached out a hand, placing it on her elbow and pulled her into his apartment before closing and locking the door.
"Talk to me, please," he begged her, standing in front of her and looking down at her smaller frame.
Why, why does he care so much? she questioned herself. You don't deserve people like him. The people at the Red Room suited you just fine.
The insulting thoughts kept coming as that obnoxious voice pleaded with them to stop. Then she finally realized that voice, it was her voice, well, sort of. It was her voice now, but it sounded blended with that six year old's she often mourned for.
She felt her body jerk, before starting to fall towards the floor, but instead, falling into something soft and firm.
She once again, felt her feet leaving the floor as she wrapped her arms around Steve's neck, crying onto his bare skin. This time he did not say anything, as he carried her into his bedroom, tucking her in on one side before climbing in on the other. He didn't have time to attempt to console her as she was buried into his side as soon as she felt his side of the bed shift from his weight.
Normally he would have been hesitant to climb into bed with a woman he was not married to, but this red head had intruded the sanctity of his full size bed a while ago. The first time, he had awaken to find the woman tangling her limbs with his, still in a peaceful sleep. He had not had the heart to wake her, knowing that she was in the midst of one of her insomniac phases. Though he did try to put at least a little distance between them, as he felt himself enjoying the feel of her body against his a little too much. But he was unsuccessful. The spy tightened her grip on him, forbidding him to stray too far away from her. He had smiled to himself, placed a kiss on top of her head, and fell into a deep sleep himself.
But this time, he felt himself a little emotionally of kilter as he had never seen the women appear so broken. Even when Furry had died. He had thought that the extremes of her emotions, but once again, the red head clinging on to him had proved him wrong.
"You're gonna save me from myself.
I know it's hard, it's hard.
But you've broken all my walls.
You've been my strength, so strong."
Bruce sat, slightly slouched in his chair. Yep, there was no doubt about it. The words that his friend made sound throughout the room, was definitely meant for his other friend sitting next to him, currently blushing, but unable to tear his eyes away from his seducer. When had this happened? He watched as the woman continued to move her body in ways, that he was sure would make a good private strip tease for the soldier at some point down the line. Everyone else in the place had started to throw out an occasional whistle and woot. Even Maria threw in a "Woooo, get him girl," realizing from the look on the Super Soldier's face that her friend was likely very close to doing something that most of the women, if not all, at their former place of employment had only hoped and prayed to do.
Tony looked around at the looks on everyone's faces at the table. Everyone had grins on their faces, Sam giving Steve a nudge, but the man never took his eyes away from the woman on stage. Oh, he could not wait to get on them about this. He would wait though, as it seemed the captain might have a very eventful night ahead of him.
"And don't ask me why I love you.
It's obvious you're tenderness is what I need to make me,
a better woman, to myself."
Clint let out a strong "Ha," as the woman began to close the song. But then the smile on his face transformed into a look of confusion. Had she just said she loved him. No. It was a song right? Natasha didn't fall in love. She didn't love, she respected and she repaid favors. It was just the song. A sly smile came to his face, as he tilted his head to the side, trying to decipher his friend. He could not wait to get her alone later. Before he could ponder any further what was actually going on with his friend, he heard the last note of the song and saw his friend making quickly for the exit, throwing a glance at Steve before disappearing into the night.
She was running. He already had his questions answered, well, some of them anyways.
'What is wrong with you Romanoff? What the hell is wrong with you?' she scolded as she made her way out of the alley and back towards the street.
She subconsciously folded her arms around herself, trying to draw some warmth as the temperature had dropped, considerably since their arrival to the club.
She didn't do this, this was not her thing. 'Get it together, Natasha,' she tried to recoup, but truth be told she had just scared the hell out of herself. She knew that she had just basically told Steve she loved him, technically. But that was a song, she could care less about that. What actually caused her to look for an immediate escape route were the feelings that she finally acknowledged in that moment.
She sang the song, and she meant every word. She had gotten caught up in her emotions, and as the word love broke from her lips and she stared into his crystal blue eyes, she couldn't help the swell of feelings that spread from her chest throughout her being. The little voice in her head had broken through again, and informed her in a warm and kind manner, "You do love him. Natasha, you're in love with him."
And while that little voice was rejoicing, the rest of her brain was sending off warning signals to run, and run she did.
"Well, that was Natasha with Save Me From Myself," the master of ceremonies announced, as the crowed continued to clap and cheer. "Riveting wasn't she?"
Steve continued to stare at the door through which she had disappeared, everyone else at the table quiet.
"Steve," Maria was the first to speak, calling his attention to her. And with a smile, she continued, "Don't just sit there. Go after her."
Steve opened his mouth to say something, but words escaped him, and he just looked back towards the door.
"Let me put it this way," Tony said, "if you don't go after her, you are never allowed back into my tower, any of my homes, or cars, any of my fundraisers, and," he paused for dramatic effect, "we are revoking your man card. You can keep the avengers cards, none of us is as coordinated at you. Well maybe Bruce, but you know," he paused before growling.
Steve just looked around the table. Sam, grinning and nodding his head. Bruce just gave him a look that said he agreed with everyone else.
He looked back towards the door, and before his nerves could stop him. He stood and headed for the door Natasha had just exited through.
A/N: So, tell me what you guys think? What do you think should happen from here. Maybe one of your suggestions will spark an idea. I'm just starting to get back into writing, so hopefully it'll get better as this goes along.
Song Credit: Christina Augilera "Save Me From Myself"