Chapter 4
They returned to the others. Tony was the first to notice that they were holding hands.
"I knew it!" he said, pointing at their intertwined fingers and leaping out of his seat.
"Calm down," said Pepper to Tony, much like a mother to a small child. Tony sat back down, a wild, crazed expression plastered across his face.
Just then, Thor came in.
"The bilgesnipe is ready for consumption!" he boomed.
Clint groaned.
"Who let Thor cook?" he whined. "That's it, I'm getting shawarma."
He grabbed his keys, checked his pocket for his wallet and left for the shawarma joint downtown.
"I cannot understand why Clint dislikes boiled bilgesnipe," said Thor, utterly bewildered. "It is a special treat, is it not, that I bring it back from Asgard?"
The others picked at the rubbery meat. Pepper, who was dieting, contemplated the fat content of one bilgesnipe fillet. Thor, however, devoured both his own meal and the one he had prepared for Clint. They all stared as he gorged himself.
"How can you possibly eat that much?" Pepper asked with a horrified expression.
"Why would I not be capable of consuming this amount, Lady Pepper?" Thor countered, puzzled.
"No reason," said Pepper, vaguely.
Steve poured himself more water. Next to him, Natasha sipped her cream soda from the can. Beneath the table, their hands met.
After dinner, they all slumped in the armchairs and couches on Tony and Pepper's floor. Everyone but Thor was feeling sick. Steve and Natasha sat next to each other. Steve traced circles on the back of Natasha's hand, which she found very soothing. She found her eyes closing.
"I love you, Nat," Steve said, quietly.
She drifted off just as he was forming her name. She was later relieved of this, because she didn't know if you could have said it back. It wasn't that she didn't love him, because she did, really and truly. She just wasn't ready. It wasn't in her nature to love so easily, so she was cautious about her every move. She couldn't trust herself to do the right thing for them both. Not yet.
Morning came. Natasha had a mission, so she left at dawn. Much later that same morning, Steve lounged on the couch on his floor eating buttery toast and watching TV. There was a knock on the door.
"Come on ahead in!"
Clint entered the room holding a bowl of cereal. He sat next to Steve and set his bowl on the coffee table.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey, Clint," said Steve.
"Everyone's out, I was looking for some company," said Clint, explaining his presence. There was a long pause.
"So, are you and Nat going out, or what?" Clint asked, straight out, breaking the silence.
"Yeah, I think so," Steve replied.
"Well, just a heads-up for you, don't treat her like she's made of glass, she hates that."
"Don't worry, I won't. I know her well enough not to."
"Good, good…" Clint trailed off. He sat there for a while, fixated on the television, forgetting about his cereal.
"Clint, your cereal's gone soggy."
"Shit!" exclaimed the archer. "I hate when that happens!"
Steve chortled. Clint rose and tipped the contents of the bowl into the bin.
"Toast it is, then," he said, heading to the kitchen.
A little while later, Steve could hear Clint yelling, "Oh for fuck's sake, I've burnt the fucking toast!"