A/N: Hey guys! Here's my new story that I hopefully will be updating every week or so. This story was supposed to be a sequel to Wash The Battle Away, but ended up becoming a solo story on its own. Also, another inspiration for this story came from a post on Tumblr by multi-fandom-crazy-fangirl as part 3 of her Romanogers AU Gifset Series. Credit for that gifset goes to it's creator.

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters accept for Sailor.

Enjoy!

If someone had told Natasha that she would be happily married before twenty-five, she would have laughed at them. There was no way she'd be married then. She'd still be pursuing her Ballet career, touring the world and so on. Men were just a distraction from her ultimate goal of Prima Ballerina. So no. No boyfriend and absolutely no husband. She couldn't be tied down. It just wasn't her life plan.

But alas, fate likes to screw up all best laid plans.

So at age twenty-four, Natasha finds herself married to a very handsome, almost-perfect Coast Guard Rescue Swimmer named Steve Rogers.

And she couldn't be happier.

Natasha and Steve met in San Francisco a year ago. He was stationed there with his best friend, James "Bucky" Barnes. She was there for a performance. It was a Saturday morning and Natasha was out at the Golden Gate Park, as were Steve and Bucky. Natasha was out running a light 5k while listening to her music, while Steve and Bucky were having a very competitive game of Ultimate Frisbee. She was listening to her music too loud, and therefore didn't hear the warning call. Next thing she knew, she was sprawled out on the grass with a very handsome blonde haired, blue-eyed, Adonis-esque man kneeling over her.

"You okay, ma'am?" Mr. Calvin-Klein-Model asked.

Natasha could only nod. She was still reeling from a) being assaulted by a Frisbee, and b) being talked to by a very very attractive man.

"Shit. Think she's concussed?" Mr. Calvin-Klein-Model's friend asked as he approached.

"Maybe a minor one. Nothing major," Mr. Calvin-Klein-Model replied. He then tunred his attention back to her.

"What year is it?"

Natasha, just now finding her voice, replied, "Uh, 2015."

"What's the date today?"

"May 4th, 2015."

"And your name is?"

"Natasha Romanoff."

Mr. Calvin-Klein-Model smiled a brilliant white smile and offered her his hand. She took it and he helped her up.

"Well, the good news is that I don't think you have a concussion. Just a bump."

Natasha smiled, "Uh, thanks."

"The name is Steve Rogers by the way," Mr. Calvin-Klein-Model replied. "The nuthead who hit you over there is James Barnes."

"Hey! If you would have caught it, it wouldn't have hit her!" James complained.

"If you weren't too busy starting at those dames over there, maybe your aim wouldn't have been so off. I can't run a hundred yards in two seconds! You'd have to be a superhero to do that."

"I'm still saying you should have caught it."

"Jerk," Steve retorted.

"Punk," James responded.

Steve chuckled and threw an arm around James, messing up the man's slicked back hair. James laughed and batted the blonde away before turning to Natasha.

"James Barnes," he introduced, bowing slightly. "But most of my pals call me Buck or Bucky. Whatever fits your preference," he added with a wink.

Natasha smirked. "Bucky… Interesting nickname."

"Eh," Bucky replied. "Parent's named me after President James Buchanan, so Stevie here started calling me Bucky we were in diapers. Stuck ever since."

Steve seemed abashed, looking down and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well I think it's fitting," Natasha replied, smiling at Steve. "Very creative."

Steve looked up and smiled sheepishly at her. He was blushing and Natasha found it absolutely adorable.

"Well, I, uh," Natasha coughed," I best be going. Got to, uh, finish my run."

"Ah right! Well, uh, best be seeing you around, and sorry for hitting you with our Frisbee," Steve responded, holding out his hand for her to shake.

Natasha smiled lightly and shook his hand.

"It was nice meeting you Steve, despite the circumstances."

Steve smiled, "You too."

Natasha tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before nodding at the both of them before heading back onto the trail.

Natasha got about a mile or so before she heard someone calling her. She turned back to find Steve running towards her.

"Hey!" Steve started, panting slightly.

"Hi," Natasha replied, clasping her hands behind her back.

"So uh. Buck said I should… And I was wondering… and… well its just that.. and uh… " Steve stumbled, blushing and rubbing his neck awkwardly.

Natasha giggled. She couldn't help it, he was adorable.

"I'm making a fool out of myself, aren't I?" Steve questioned, smiling sheepishly at her.

Natasha giggled again. "No no. You're doing fine."

Steve just shook his head and huffed a breath.

"How about let's start over?" Natasha supplied.

"Okay. Yeah let's do that."

Natasha smiled and help out her hand, "Natasha Romanoff."

"Steve Rogers," Steve replied, shaking her hand.

"So what brings you to this part of the park, Mr. Rogers?

"Well you see, my pal and I were playing Ultimate Frisbee when we accidentally hit this gorgeous red-head who was running by."

"Oh that's awful! Is she alright?"

"Yeah I think so. She decided to carry on with her run after the incident."

"Well… That's good. But you still didn't answer my question."

Steve smiled, "Ah. Well you see, my pal told me to go after the girl."

"Oh… and why did he say that?"

"Because I needed to ask her something."

"And what did you need to ask her?" Natasha asked, unconsciously leaning closer to him.

"If she was free tonight," Steve replied, blushing.

"And if she was? What would you then ask her?"

"Well, I'd ask, no, beg her to accompany me to dinner."

"Beg? Why would you beg?" Natasha asked.

"Because clearly she is an angel, and no mortal man could ever dream of being near her."

Natasha blushed heavily.

"Mr. Rogers, you really are a charmer."

"Me?" Steve asked, "No, no. That's Buck. I'm just telling it like I see it."

Natasha just giggled and looked up at this handsome man who was before her.

"So?" Steve asked.

"So what?" she questioned.

"What would she say?"

"Yes."

Six months later, Natasha answered a different question with the same answer.

Three months after that, Natasha's answer switched from "yes" to "I do".