4.Natasha
Steve isn't entirely sure when or how he promised Thor to check up on his "beloved Jane and her lightning sister Darcy". Probably right around the time Thor had given him a truly incredible pair of puppy-dog eyes.
That said, though, Steve didn't put up a fight. It was the least he could do for Thor to check in on his girl and her family.
It was about a week after he left New York, when he checked into the motel in Raleigh, North Carolina for the night – that he realised he had none of the information he needed.
Where did Darcy and Jane live at the moment? What had happened to Erik Selvig anyway? How exactly could he show up without this seeming like an incredibly creepy move? Oh, hi, my name's Steve, Thor sent me to check everything was alright. No, sorry, he's not here, he's gone back to Asgard, he had to escort Loki home, can't put the Tesseract in the hands of a war criminal. Not again, anyway.
Yeah. That would go well.
He tossed his bag onto the bed, and thought about it for the moment, before his eyes hit the silver flip-phone that Clint had given him.
Clint and Natasha were spies, assassins and all-round masters of espionage. So by that logic…yes, that'd work.
Would they mind, though? He didn't want to interrupt anything. And clearly they needed their time off as much as he did.
They're adults. If they mind, they can tell me to go away, and that'll be that, his reason argued.
He flipped the phone open, and dialled the number.
"Hey, Clint?" he asked.
"Steve!" came Natasha's voice, instead of Clint's. "To what do we owe the honour?"
"Uh, Clint gave me this phone. Told me to call if I needed something."
"Which is?" Natasha asked, voice not betraying a hint of surprise or concern.
"Thor asked me to check in on Jane Foster and her assistant, and I agreed, because I was going on a road-trip anyway, and I just realised – I don't actually know where they are."
"Ah," Natasha said. There was a long pause, and then she spoke again. "Wimberley, Texas. It's Darcy's hometown. They went there as soon as they could get out of Norway. They're staying with her grandmother. I'll text you the address."
"Thanks. Any idea how I can make this not – I think the word these days is 'creepy'?"
Natasha laughed, genuine amusement carrying through the tinny speaker.
"You're sweet," she chuckled. Steve couldn't help but give an answering smile. "But seeing as you're Captain America, they won't think it's creepy. Well, probably."
"Natasha, that's not true at all," he said.
"No?"
Steve sighed. Of all people, Black Widow should get this, right? "Captain America would never swear, smoke, or drink. Steve Rogers, on the other hand, swears a blue streak when he feels the need, still carries a pack of Camels, and cleaned up $400 in a bar the other night by drinking seven shots in under two minutes with zero signs of intoxication."
Natasha lost all composure. He could actually hear the tears of laughter in her voice over the speaker.
"What's your point?" she asked, finally, when she'd gotten her laughter under control.
"Captain America could never be mistaken for a creep. Steve Rogers cannot talk to women. They're going to think I'm a creep," he pronounced his doom into the speaker.
Natasha, the traitor, just laughed even harder. There was the muffled sound of an explosion.
"Damn. Children, I swear. I have to go. Talk to you later, Steve," she said.
"Call me if you need me," he told her.
"I will," she assured him, before hanging up.
Steve closed the phone, a warm feeling like gratitude washing over him. Yeah, it had taken an alien invasion to bring them together, but he had a fantastic team.
