A/N: Hey, guys! I know it's been a long time since I've updated. This isn't the reason (the reason is that I didn't get a chance to type anything), but I needed to decide what I was going to do with this story after Age of Ultron, you know with Clint's family and the farm, etc. So, like with CATWS, I'm just going to write this as if after Avengers Assemble, there were no more movies. Steve still thinks Bucky is dead, SHIELD is still around, they all live at the Tower, including Clint. 'Kay?

If you like, I could write a new fanfic, based on this one but taking into account everything: CAFTA, the first Avengers movie, CATWS, AOU. Please review about what you think I should do, I don't know.

Chapter 11

Several months later

Natasha pulled back the heavy curtain. Pepper sat expectantly in front of her. Immediately her face scrunched up.

"Nah, honey," she said, shaking her head as Natasha spun in a circle.

Natasha sighed. Pepper was right, as always. The gown bunched oddly around her abdomen and didn't compliment her in the slightest. She trudged back into the changing room, blocking herself from view with the curtain. It had been a long, tiring day, trying on dress after dress after dress. She looked at the small rack in the tiny dressing space. Only one left. At least in this shop. Chances were that Pepper would drag her to another bridal boutique, ever enthusiastic.

She pulled the dress up over her legs, fastened it and without even glancing in the mirror, she walked out to show Pepper. The other woman gasped in awe.

"Oh, Natty, it's perfect!"

Natasha raised her eyebrows in surprise turned to look at her reflection in the mirror. Pepper was right again.

The dress was a lacy affair, with a high neckline. The white material clung to her torso, then loosened around her waist and legs. The fabric wasn't too heavy. It was, indeed, perfect.

Just then, as Natasha was admiring her reflection, the door of the boutique swung open. Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis strode in. They had been dress-shopping with Natasha and Pepper earlier that day, but they had had to go and help Erik set up a new piece of equipment.

Darcy was eating a hamburger, ravenous after several hours of setting up some hunk of metal. Or rather, watching Jane and Erik set it up and passing them a part every few minutes or so.

"Darcy!" said Jane, reproachfully. "You can't eat that in here!"

"Yeah, yeah," said Darcy, her mouth filled with burger.

Jane rolled her eyes. She spotted Natasha and Pepper and dashed over to them. She circled Natasha and saying, "Oh, you look incredible! Tell me you're getting this one!"

Darcy crossed the carpeted floor of the boutique to where the others stood. "You look good," she said in a very Darcy-ish manner, just as a drop of ketchup fell from her burger to the ground.

"Darcy!" cried Pepper, whipping out a tissue and dabbing at the stain.

"Sorry, Peps," said Darcy.

While Pepper and Jane fretted over Natasha, Darcy wandered absentmindedly around the boutique, gazing at the dresses on the mannequins. She wasn't paying any attention to where she was going, and crashed right into, oh no… Natasha.

There was ketchup smeared all over the once-white gown. There were fried onions tangled in Natasha's hair, held by gooey melted cheese. A piece of gherkin was going down her back. The bap was strewn on the carpet, the meat had fallen out and slid down the dress, leaving a track of grease which led to where it lay on the floor. Pepper and Jane had luckily evaded any splashes.

Natasha slowly turned to face Darcy. Darcy gulped and silently prayed that Natasha was not armed, but that was unlikely. Natasha was doing an excellent job of keeping her features emotionless, although Darcy could see the rage flickering in those green eyes.

Several minutes later Darcy was blubbering and Natasha was sitting on one of the cushioned stools. Pepper, Jane and the poor shop assistant were trying to dab away the mess with tissues, but to no avail.

When Natasha finally brought herself to change into her own clothes, Pepper apologised to the assistant.

"Listen, uh, Zara," she said, reading off the small gold badge pinned to the young woman's purple shirt. "We're so sorry, all of us." She glared at Natasha and Darcy. "We'll take the dress." She whipped out a bulging wallet.

"Shop policy, you were going to have to take it anyway," said Zara, wiping her brow and taking the wad of money from her customer. "Thank you."

They left the boutique and decided to head for the tower. Darcy still apologising. Natasha brushed her off, insisting that it was all okay, it was fine, just fine. Jane carried the lilac-coloured paper bag containing the dress. They took a cab back to the tower. Natasha went to her own floor while the others headed to the lounge for a few drinks. Natasha relieved Jane of the bag as they parted ways.

James was with Zoe and Tony for the day. Steve was on the couch with his phone in his hand. He looked baffled, scrolling up and down on Tumblr. No wonder he was confused. She sneaked up behind him and grabbed his shoulders. He jumped right out of his seat in terror.

"I didn't hear you come in!" he exclaimed.

"Well, I am a spy," she said, making a face.

Just then, Steve noticed the bag in her hand. Ketchup stains were blossoming on the purple paper, looking suspiciously like blood.

"And I guess for superspies like you, going wedding dress shopping means an assassination?" he joked. "At least learn to hide the bodies better."

"Ha, ha, very funny," she said. "Although I might've killed Darcy."

She pulled the dress out of the bag and Steve gasped.

"Holy shit, what did she do?"

Natasha explained, and by the end of the tale they were both in stitches laughing.

"Hey, Steve? You mind if I go upstairs with the girls for a drink?"

"Not at all, Tony has James."

Natasha washed the onions and cheese out of her hair, dried it quickly and then took the elevator upstairs. She heard the ding as the doors slid open, and she saw her friends at the far side of the room, seated on either couches or armchairs.

"Hey, gals!" she said, making jazz hands.

"Natty, I thought you said you couldn't come up!"

"Tony still has James, Steve didn't need any help."

"What can I get you?" asked Pepper.

"A Vodka, please, Peps."

"Embracing your heritage, Natalia?"

"Something like that."

They drank the night away, oblivious to the rest of the tower's inhabitants as they laughed and yelled. At around one in the morning, their attention was drawn to the sudden shower of rainbow light that was raining on the small terrace outside. Amidst the shimmering colours, the silhouette of a large, muscular man could be seen.

Thor had returned from Asgard.

Jane rushed out to meet him. He swept her into an embrace and kissed her. The other three women watched awkwardly through the glass walls as the lovers were reunited.

Jane re-entered the room with Thor in tow. After greeting everyone, Thor went to his stash of Asgardian mead, which was stowed safely behind the counter of the bar under lock and key, so that nobody would hold him responsible if anyone ever drank it. It was not meant for the consumption of Midgardians.

It was about four in the morning when they finally called it quits. They all got in the elevator together, their boozy breath mingling in the confined space. Jane was staying with Thor on his floor and Darcy was sleeping on one of the guest floors. Pepper headed off to her floor, and Natasha went to hers.

Steve had fallen asleep on the couch almost immediately after putting James to bed. He was exhausted. Tony had had to leave almost as soon as Natasha had gone upstairs. Not only had he had to take care of James, but he'd been burdened with Zoe, too. He'd gotten them dinner. It was about eight or nine when Stark got back. After Zoe was gone, he'd bathed James, played all the bath-time games. He'd read him story after story until he was hoarse. He'd tucked him in just the way he liked it. He'd also had to balance that with keeping their floor tidy. James had a habit of leaving his toys everywhere in the evening and not picking them up before going to bed. He had SHIELD business to attend to, which he ended up doing on his laptop, which left him even more frustrated. He realised fully how much Natasha did when he was away fighting crime, or whatever.

He was awoken, however, by the slow, laboured turning of the door handle. He sprung to his feet and leaped into the shadows, out of sight. His half-asleep brain hadn't yet remembered that Natasha had been upstairs all night.

The handle creaked as the door swung open, and Natasha drunkenly stumbled into the room.

Steve sighed, caught between relief and annoyance. He remembered now, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to.

"Natasha," he said in a hushed but stern tone. If James had been to wake up, that would just have been perfect. "Where were you? You've been upstairs all night, you didn't even bother coming down, or texting, at least, to tell me you'd be down late! I couldn't go upstairs with James and Zoe, they'd want to stay up there with you and Pepper, and I couldn't exactly leave them by themselves!"

Natasha stood silently for a moment, then lunged forward with her arms out.

"Steve…" she slurred. "I want a hug."

He stepped back and folded his arms, rejecting her affectionate actions. Natasha stuck out her bottom lip and pouted.

"Why are you mad, babe?" she asked. She acted so differently when she was drunk.

"Just lie down and sleep," he said, refusing to meet her gaze.

"Come on," she said, batting her eyelashes and tracing his bicep with her finger. "We can have some fun."

"Natasha."

"Yeah, babe?"

"Get some sleep." He pointed at the vacant couch.

She pouted again, but reluctantly trudged to the sofa. Pissed off as he was, he nonetheless covered her body with a blanket. He also planted a quick kiss on her forehead. He saw her smile, a proper smile, not the smirk of a seductress. This little smile set off a bubbly feeling in his chest, light and fluttery. He knew he couldn't stay mad at her.

When Natasha woke up the next day, her head felt like it was splitting open. The bright morning light made the pain worse, and she couldn't ignore the pounding, throbbing ache. She shut her eyes hurriedly, and soon she fell into a troubled slumber…

She was in a cavern. The cold air pierced any exposed skin like tiny knives. She was wearing a red dress, lacy, gorgeous and dripping in sex appeal. She recognised it as one of the dresses she had worn for her missions with Red Room, when she played the deadly seductress. She shivered.

There was an empty cell cut out of the rock, barred and locked. She was alone.

Then suddenly a figure materialised in front of her. Judging by the uniform she wore, she was a nurse. Her face was burned and sooty, her eyes stared right through Natasha. More appeared, until Natasha realised that they were all people from her dark past. The nurse had died in the hospital fire. Natasha spied Red Room agents, a victim or two from Sao Paulo, doctors, patients, more nurses. They crowded around her. A doctor pushed a small boy into view.

James.

Her son was bound and helpless. They unlocked the cell and threw Natasha into it, locking her in. They forced her to watch as they tortured him…

Natasha snapped awake yet again, screaming. Steve rushed to her aid, held her hand, calmed her down, and soothed her back to sleep. This time, she slept soundly, no nightmares to bother her, no demons to hurt her or her family.