A/N: Many thanks to ladygris for the Beta work once again.

Namaste,

Sunny

Avengers

Silent Poetry

Chapter 1

The roaring of the engines almost drowned out the voice on the radio. This would be Steve's last chance to talk to the woman he was falling in love with. "Peggy?"

"I'm here."

Peggy's voice was strained, emotional. Couldn't be helped. If this didn't get done, millions of people would die. "I'm gonna need a rain check on that dance."

She sniffed and he knew she was crying. "Alright. A week, next Saturday, at the Stork Club."

With a smile, he nodded though she couldn't see it. "You got it."

"Eight o'clock on the dot. Don't you dare be late! Understood?"

"You know, I still don't know how to dance."

Peggy sniffed again. "I'll show you how. Just be there."

The dream ended just as it always did for Steve Rogers. With the horrible vision of the cold North Atlantic coming up to meet him and Peggy's voice echoing in his head reminding him not to be late for their date.

Steve sat up on the side of his bed rubbing the back of his head and trying to banish the ghosts of those he'd lost from his mind, but they wouldn't stay gone forever. They came at him in times of stress, fatigue, or moments when he let his guard down.

New York, and the world, had survived the Chitauri attack, the visible scars long gone. All that remained were the recollections of those who survived. And now what was he supposed to do? He'd spent months helping to reclaim his Brooklyn neighborhood. Granted, it hadn't been as badly damaged as Manhattan, but with the influx of people whose homes and businesses had been destroyed, it had become a dangerous place. Steve found that if he made his presence known to the less savory denizens, there was less trouble for the police to deal with.

When everything was back to normal, the one thing that stayed the same was the fact that he was a man out of time. Seventy years had passed since the crash and he'd missed all of it. And he still hadn't learned to dance.

Steve wanted to get on with his life, start dating again, but he didn't know how things worked now, what the rules were. From what he'd seen on television, in the movies and on the Internet, the rules were fluid, so he had to be. Trouble was he couldn't could go against his nature. In his time, a man didn't jump into bed with a woman on the first date. At least he didn't though there were some who had. But Steve couldn't disrespect women that way.

Another roadblock to getting back into the dating scene was the fact that women were so much bolder these days. They came up to him on the streets and in the grocery stores asking him for anything from a photo or autograph, all the way up to and including sleeping with them for the purpose of having his baby. Steve turned most of the requests down though he did accept the occasional coffee or beer, often finding out that they just wanted to be seen in his company hoping to get their faces on television, in the papers or on the Internet. It seemed that the type of woman he favored didn't exist anymore, or he just hadn't found her.

Stark had been kind enough to provide the team with a refuge from the publicity engendered by their victory over the Chitauri. Someplace to go where they wouldn't have to deal with reporters, photographers and autograph hounds. Not that Steve minded signing posters, baseball cards or photographs. But sometimes he just wanted to be able to take a walk without being followed or bothered. Stark, on the other hand, seemed to thrive on all the media attention.

Barton had taken to keeping a low profile, coming and going from Stark Tower only at night unless by helijet. Bruce had taken off for some underdeveloped country, returning only when Stark needed his help on a project. Most recently, Bruce had returned, and he and Stark isolated themselves in the lab, coming out only once or twice a week. Thor was spending most of his time with Jane Foster at her lab in New Mexico when he was on Earth.

And then there was Natasha. The SHIELD agent went on missions and would be gone anywhere from a few days to several weeks. When she returned, there would be round after round of debriefings followed by down time. She went on the occasional date, but not once in all the time he'd know her had she stayed out all night. Steve wasn't naïve enough to think that this meant she wasn't sleeping with these men, but the feeling he got from her told him she wasn't. Her nights on the town seemed more like an attempt to have as normal a social life as possible, considering her profession and notoriety.

Sitting in a chaise lounge on the balcony looking out over the lights of the city, Steve heard the sliding door open and Natasha stepped out. He jumped to his feet, nodding a greeting. "Thought you'd be off to the symphony or a fancy dinner."

"Felt like staying in." She settled into the second chair and he resumed his seat as well. "What're your plans for this evening?"

Shrugging, Steve looked up at the sky. "Same here."

They were quiet for a while, both lost in thought. Then, Natasha turned to look at him. "I'm getting a drink. Want something?"

"A beer would be nice."

She was back shortly with a bottle for each of them. They twisted the tops off, something Steve rather liked instead of needing a bottle opener, and drank. Natasha held her bottle up and sighed. "I don't know why I bother drinking alcohol."

"Maybe you like the taste."

Chuckling, she brought the bottle to her lips and took a long drink. "There's that. It just seems a waste of good beer, wine and liquor when you don't get drunk."

Nodding in agreement, Steve set his bottle on the floor next to his chair, his hands folded over his stomach. "Dr. Erskine said I can't get drunk."

"Oh?"

The way Natasha said that one word told him that he'd captured her interest. "It's a theory that hasn't been tested though."

"Yet." Getting to her feet, Natasha held out her hand, and Steve looked at it stupidly. A smile turned up the corners of her mouth. "Never could resist a challenge and that sounded like one."

Mirroring her smile, he finally took her hand, letting her lead him back inside and over to the bar. Steve slid onto a chair as she went behind the counter.

She set out two shot glasses, opened a bottle of vodka and filled both to the top. "We'll start with something from my country."

They saluted each other and downed the vodka. Immediately, Natasha refilled the glasses and knocked that back too. Steve followed her lead until the bottle was empty then they changed places. "Now we try something home grown."

The square Jack Daniels bottle hit the counter with a thump. He twisted the top off, poured and again they drank. While he was pouring refills, Natasha plucked a straw from the container in front of her, turning it around and around. As she was never nervous, Steve assumed that she just wanted something to do with her hands in between shots. Her hazel eyes fixed on his with that unblinking stare that disconcerted him. This time, he got the feeling she was doing it on purpose. His theory was confirmed when she asked, "Did you have a girl?"

"Pardon?"

"In 1945. Was there someone special?"

Setting his glass down, Steve leaned on the edge of the bar. "Sort of. Her name was Peggy Carter. She was going to teach me to dance."

Sliding off the stool, Natasha picked up her glass and the bottle of Jack. "Come on. I'll teach you."

He followed her, suddenly nervous. "I don't know about this. The music I hear nowadays is…"

"Crap?" Shaking her head and grinning, Natasha again refilled their glasses. "I'm sure we can find something that'll work for you." Addressing the air, she said, "Jarvis, play music for slow dancing."

"What genre would you care for, Agent Romanoff?"

"Mmm…Frank Sinatra, circa nineteen-forties to early fifties."

The AI seemed to think it over. "I have just the thing, Miss."

There's a somebody I'm longing to see
I hope that she turns out to be
Someone who'll watch over me

I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood
I know I could always be good
To one who'll watch over me

The music seemed to come from all around them. Not too loud, and not too soft, just slow and easy. "Perfect." Natasha positioned herself next to Steve. "First, the basics. The man leads with his left hand. Swaying side to side as you turn is perfectly acceptable. At least to start."

She demonstrated with her arms in the classic dance pose, shifting her weight from one foot to the other while rotating to the left until she faced forward again.

Steve nodded. "Seems easy enough."

"Try it." When he'd completed a full circle, he looked to her for approval. Though his movements were a bit awkward, she smiled to give him confidence. "Very good. Now let's add a little more distance. When you do it this time, take slightly bigger steps." Again she demonstrated and Steve copied her. Hands on her hips, Natasha gave him a mock reproving glare. "You've done this before."

"Never. When I was in high school, the girls avoided me as if being short, skinny and asthmatic was contagious."

"I find that hard to believe."

Steve inclined his head shyly. "It's true. I've held up more than my share of gym walls."

"Time to change that. Hold me like I showed you."

With the slightest hesitation, he lightly grasped her right hand, his right barely touching her left shoulder as if he thought she might break. Jarvis restarted the same song again without being asked, Steve bobbing his head in time to the music for the first couple of bars. He needed to do this at his own speed so Natasha let him work out the moves in his own time. Eventually, he began moving them in a small circle and once he gained confidence, he took bigger steps then even made up his own pattern. The only problem she could see was that he kept his head down, watching his feet. "Steve."

"Yeah?"

"When you're dancing with a woman, you want her to feel she's the most important person in the room even if it's just for the length of the song, so look her in the eyes and smile." He did as she said and she returned the gesture. "Talking is okay, too. Just don't overdo it."

The song ended and Steve stepped back, keeping hold of her left hand and bowing over it. "Thank you, Natasha."

"My pleasure, Steve. Something else to keep in mind. I'm not your sister, your mother or your maiden aunt. You can hold me a little closer." Letting a small smile come to her, she added. "I promise not to bite…unless you want me to."

Expecting Steve to feel embarrassment over her not so subtle teasing, Natasha was surprised when he laughed. "I'll keep that in mind. Um, Jarvis, can we change the music, please?"

"Of course, Captain Rogers. Do you have something specific in mind?"

"Let's speed it up some. How about The Way You Look Tonight?"

Jarvis went right into the song without comment.

Someday, when I'm awfully low
When the world is cold
I will feel a glow just thinking of you
And the way you look tonight

Yes, you're lovely, with your smile so warm
And your cheeks so soft
There is nothing for me but to love you
And the way you look tonight…

~~O~~

Keeping everything Natasha had just taught him in mind, Steve held her a little closer, moving them around the floor in an ever widening circle, changing the pattern to suit himself. Yes, he did feel he was a good student. But that's not all he was feeling. Each time they danced, he lessened the distance between them until her left arm came around his shoulders in a sort of half hug. Close enough for her to lay her head on his shoulder, if she chose, and more than close enough for him to feel the tiny puffs of warm air she exhaled.

She said talking was okay, so Steve said the first thing that came to mind. "A long time ago, I heard that dancing is silent poetry. Now I understand."

Natasha smiled and he felt it where her cheek brushed his collarbone. Her hand moved up to tickle the short hairs at the nape of his neck, apparently by accident. "Wanna try a spin?"

"Sure." Without waiting for her to provide instructions, Steve remembered the times he'd observed couples dancing and managed to turn her once then back into his arms just as the music stopped. "How was that, teacher?"

"Excellent. You're a wonderful student, Steve. One more?"

Without being asked, Jarvis changed the music once more though he kept with the same genre. This time, he went with I've Got a Crush on You making Steve wonder if the AI could read his mind. He dismissed the notion with an internal scowl.

Again, Natasha's hand touched the back of his neck, and for some reason, it felt different than it had before. Maybe because they were completely alone, if you didn't count the AI. But just in case Natasha hadn't caught on, Steve sang along with the chorus.

I've got a crush on you, sweetie pie

All the day and night-time hear me sigh

I never had the least notion

That I could fall with so much emotion

Could you coo, could you care

For a cunning cottage we could share

The world will pardon my mush

'Cause I have got a crush, my baby, on you.

~~O~~

As the last note of the song faded, Natasha realized what Steve had been trying to build up the courage to say. For a woman who could change her personality in an instant, she had seldom expressed her own emotions verbally, opting to do so through actions instead. When she called Clint ebanashka it was with affection, he responded by calling her bliatz, also with affection. That just how it was with them.

Now Natasha had the chance for something real and lasting. She would be foolish to let it slip through her fingers. At that thought, she involuntarily tightened her hold on Steve feeling answering pressure in his arms. That more than anything told her what she wanted to know.

Jarvis, usually so discreet, segued into another song. Michael Buble's rendition of Close Your Eyes flowed around them.

Close your eyes,
Let me tell you all the reasons why
I think you're one of a kind.
Here's to you,
The one that always pulls us through
Always do what you gotta do
You're one of a kind, thank God you're mine.

You're an angel dressed in armor.
You're the fair in every fight.
You're my life and my safe harbor,
Where the sun sets every night.
And if my love is blind,
I don't wanna see the light.

Natasha finally decided to take what was being given to her, again letting actions speak for her by laying her head against Steve's shoulder as her fingertips lightly brushed up to touch him behind the ear. He inhaled sharply telling her more than his words could say.

She unclasped their hands, using both arms to hold him around the neck. He didn't immediacy follow suit, so she encouraged him by taking his hands and placing them on her waist. The song ended, but neither of them moved to separate. Into the silent room, Natasha whispered, "Robert Frost."

"Pardon?"

Tilting her head back so she could look into his eyes, Natasha verbalized her feelings in the only way she could. "Robert Frost said that dancing is a vertical expression of a horizontal desire."

They had been swaying ever so slightly, and at her words, Steve stopped moving. "Natasha, are you saying what I think you're saying? 'Cause if you are…"

"If I am…what?"

For an answer, Steve tilted his head toward hers with agonizing slowness, then their lips were touching, sweet and soft. To Natasha, it felt like she'd finally come home. That this is where she was meant to be. Not just in Steve's arms, but in his heart as well.

TBC

Songs:

Someone to Watch Over Me is a song composed by George Gershwin with lyrics by Ira Gershwin, 1926.

The Way You Look Tonight was written by Jerome Kern with lyrics by Dorothy Fields, 1936.

I've Got a Crush on You is a song composed by George Gershwin with lyrics by Ira Gershwin, 1928.

Close Your Eyes was written by composer Bernice Petkere in 1933.