It wasn't that Natasha Romanoff wasn't capable of being sad. Everyone was capable of the emotion, heck, it was even one of the main emotions that made up a person. In fact, sadness was something that probably fueled most of her memories, wrapping around them like a bubble.

So, yes, Natasha Romanoff was capable of sadness.

She just didn't have the time to actually be able to showcase it.

As a part of the Avengers, none of them actually had time to be sad little shitfaces, as Clint had so kindly put it. All those work to be done, people to be saved, countries to be liberated. No time for a few puny emotions.

Besides, she had a reputation to live up to, being the team's only female member and taking the name of an insect that killed it's spouse.

With all those people she had killed and places she had seen blown up, you'd think the reason for her suddenly becoming overcome with sadness was the memory of the dead.

Instead, it was Stark.

Stark, who she probably hated the most on the team. Stark, who was an arrogant little douchebag. Stark, who was not worth the months she spent working undercover at his company. Stark, who was probably the richest guy on the face of the Earth.

All because she had stopped by to warn him that Fury was going to murder him after seeing what he had done to his office.

In all fairness, JARVIS had tried to give her a fair warning, but she had taken the AI's somehow distressed announcement for a wrong tweak in his systems, something she had planned to inform Stark about.

The smirk was wiped clean off her face when she saw what was going on in the lab.

Pepper looked extremely exhausted, but a fake smile was on her lips as Stark drew near. The walls were soundproof, and Natasha could only guess what she thought Stark was uttering as he put his hands on Pepper's shoulders and gazed into her eyes.

The concern in Stark's eyes confused Natasha for a minute. She had only seen the man with anger, happiness, and fear in his eyes.

But the look he had for Pepper was something else. Something of love and something of concern and something of wanting to keep her safe - even if it meant dying for her.

And why Natasha knew all this was what compelled her to run back up.

Stark could get murdered by Fury without knowing it from her. Clint was bound to tell him.

What she was doing, however, on the balcony with a martini in her hand was something of pure surprise, even to her. This wasn't what she had been trained to do, it wasn't even something she thought she could do.

Fuck Stark.

"Nat? Nat, is that you?"

And fuck Rogers while she was at it.

Trying to convince herself that Rogers was probably acting like this was because he was from the past didn't help her situation in the slightest. Surely even back then Steve could've encountered the problem.

Fuck, she's calling him Steve.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

"Nat? Hey, are you okay?"

Why is she even allowing him to call her Nat? Only Clint could call her that, and that was only after a minimum of five years of working alongside him.

She had known Steve for about two years (or less)and he was already allowed to call her by her nickname. When Stark had tried that, she had almost tazed him.

"Um, Nat?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she could already see his blonde hair and he was wearing a black scoop neck - damn, she could see the rest of his biceps.

Not that she wanted to look at them.

"Hey, what are you doing out here?"

"Can't a girl have some peace?" Natasha retorted, not really wanting to sound irritated - but damn, is she ever.

Steve took a step back after hearing her answer. "I - I could leave, if you want me to."

Natasha doesn't answer, something that is finally something of the norm to the Russian spy. But it wasn't of the norm for her to let any male (who wasn't Clint) stay near her.

Steve stood awkwardly beside her, eyeing the martini she had. Natasha smiled as she looked down at said drink; not that she was ever going to drink it.

In fact, she had probably just gotten it for effect.

"Something you want to talk about?" Natasha asked him as she looked up.

Steve looked taken aback, he probably didn't expect her to actually talk.

"Um...I was wondering if you were okay."

Ah, innocent Steve. Was she okay? "You saying I don't look okay, Captain?"

The venom in her voice and the way she called him Captain freaked Steve out immensely. Something was wrong, even before he walked near he could sense something different about her aura.

"No! No...I think you look beautiful, Nat."

It took two seconds for Steve to realize what he probably shouldn't have said and he stepped back, whole body tense as he waits for her to judo flip him or something.

But why doesn't she?

At first, he isn't sure if she even heard him. It's as if she's deaf: but she surely isn't.

Then she laughs. A cold, dry laugh. It's not real, and it makes Steve panic all the more. He's never heard her laugh before, and he's pretty sure this isn't what it really sounds like.

"Beautiful. Ha."

Now Steve is confused. Why does she sound like she's annoyed? Is this another modern thing he wasn't informed about?

He's about ready to formulate a speech scolding Tony when Natasha lets out a big sigh.

"You don't really mean that, Steve. But thanks."

Steve doesn't know why, but he gets angry. Why doesn't she believe him? "And who are you to say that I don't?"

Natasha is surprised that he's answered back to her, but is quick to overcome the initial shock and looks in his direction, a hard glare in her eyes. "You were used to those formalities in the 40's, Captain Rogers. I expect the gentleman exterior from you. But this is the 21st Century. No need for shit like that if you don't mean it."

Tony can hear the sound of breaking glass and groans. Bruce puts up his hands in surrender, shaking his head as if to signal that it hadn't been him.

"I swear, if Thor's up there again..." he grumbled, running up to the balcony to check who was breaking his precious wine glasses.

Natasha, however, found herself in the only position that she couldn't get out of. Blue eyes met green eyes, and she seemed stuck. She couldn't leave her position.

Neither did she want to.

"When I say you're beautiful, I mean it. I know you may not believe it, or maybe you're not used to hearing it, but you are beautiful. Stunning." Steve's mini-speech makes Natasha silent. She's not sure what to say, there's this sort of light in Steve's eyes that makes her believe every word that he says.

"I - I..." Natasha's stuttering. Why the fuck is she stuttering?

"Oh, come on, Nat!" Steve says, exasperated. "How do you say this? I - I really think you're nice, I mean, I..."

His confidence falters and his grip on Natasha does too, but that doesn't mean the spy moves from her position. She's still staring at him, silent.

But her voice is surprisingly calm when she asks Steve, "You what?"

Steve runs a hand through his blonde hair (of all the cliche things a boy should do, Natasha thinks) and then looks back at her nervously. "I...look, Nat, I understand if you don't - I mean, I didn't want to - you shouldn't be influenced by my - UGH!"

"'Ugh' is right. Get to the point." Natasha orders.

And ironically, Steve just blurts out, "I love you."

Well, Natasha didn't expect him to say that.

Steve's face turns a considerable shade of red. He looks like a blonde-haired, blue-eyed tomato in this state.

"Well, that was...blunt." Natasha says.

Steve considers jumping off the balcony, wondering who and what would stop him. Before he can, though, Natasha's pressed up against his chest, looking up into his eyes.

"Lucky for you, I like blunt."

The kiss that they share is unexpected, immediate, and sweet. Steve's mentally scolding himself for not kissing her first, but who the fuck cares about who kissed who now that he's kissing back.

He has his arms supporting her back, actually dipping her down, something that he had always wanted to do. Natasha responds to this by wrapping her arms around his neck.

It's both their first kiss in a long time: and it's better than they both expected. Like Natasha says, it's blunt, it's straightforward, but it doesn't feel rushed at all, no. It's perfect, with their lack of time for those stupid sappy emotions.

Steve's foot shifts to the right, meeting the pile of glass shards from the wine glass Natasha had broken when he had first pinned her against the wall. Glass shards of a wine glass owned by a certain inventor that was awestruck by what he was witnessing.

It's a wonder how long it had taken Tony to get up to the balcony, but he's happy he actually got there in time to see the marvelous sight in front of him.

Open-mouthed, he slowly lifts his phone and snaps about twenty pictures of the scene - his finger wouldn't stop clicking the button.

He can't resist the temptation, so he says, "You guys better buy me a new wine glass."

Steve's eyes widen as he looks at Natasha in fear, but the master assassin just raises her middle finger and very calmly goes, "Fuck off, Stark."

Stark fucks off, and Steve shakes his head in amazement at her verbal abilities, but before he can say anything, his lips are on Natasha's, and everything is forgotten.

Disclaimer: Don't own any characters mentioned here, all are owned by Marvel. :)