A/N: Written for the prompt: "Steve and Natasha on a roof."
Disclaimer: I don't own Captain America, I don't own Black Widow, and I don't own Marvel.
The wind buffeted Natasha's hair, teasing it away from her face. The sole source of light on the roof was the open door, leading back into the main part of Avenger's Tower.
Natasha's fist landed once more on her imaginary foe, sending him staggering backward. Her foot connected with his chest. Her palm shoved the cartilage in his nose backward, into his brain, effectively killing him.
Natasha spun, prepared to face off with her next mental opponent, but was taken by surprise by the appearance of Steve Rogers.
"I see where you get your name," he said in greeting.
Natasha froze, bringing her faux-fight to a halt. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing," Steve assured her, walking farther onto the roof, "I just meant… You looked–Never mind."
Natasha didn't say anything, but cocked her head, a clear invitation for Steve to continue his thought.
Steve squirmed a moment, as if afraid of offending her, before finally continuing. "You looked like a spider," he said, "with your arms all…" He trailed off, at a loss for words, instead flailing his own arms about wildly in imitation of Natasha.
"I can't decide whether or not I should be insulted," Natasha replied. "But, then again, it's hard to be insulted by a senior citizen."
"Oh, playing that card, are we?" Steve teased her.
"If the shoe fits..." Natasha drawled, taking an unintentional step toward the man in question.
"That's cold," Steve reprimanded her, his tone condescending, but the smile on his face contradicted it enough that the comment wasn't hurtful. If anything, it was inadvertently flirtatious.
"Warmth is overrated," Natasha informed him.
"I beg to differ," Steve replied. "I believe you're forgetting that I spent seventy years as a block of ice."
"Agree to disagree?" Natasha offered.
Steve shrugged, moving to the railing overlooking the city. "Fine by me," he answered.
Wordlessly, Natasha joined him at the railing.
"It's changed so much…" Steve murmured thoughtfully, remembering the 1940's version of the world he'd grown up in.
Natasha glanced up at his profile, unsure of how to respond. "You'll get used to it," she said softly.
They stood in silence for what felt like a long time, Steve looking out at the city, Natasha watching him.
Suddenly, Natasha couldn't take it anymore. The man was just so clueless. "Steve," she said.
"Mmm?" Steve startled out of his thoughts, turning to look down at her.
Slowly, cautiously, Natasha placed her hand on his shoulder, pulling him down to her level. "For a smart man, you are incredibly stupid."
Steve blinked. "What?"
Natasha sighed and released him. "You'll figure it out," she replied, then added under her breath, "Eventually."