Sorry for such a long wait! Life's been SUPER busy!

Thanks to everyone for their continued support and input! We're working on all of the ones we've received!

This prompt comes from Bree Colbern, where Nat is sad, Steve isn't sure what to do, and so he kisses her. We kind of manipulated the prompt an itty bit in that there's a deeper plot to it, but hopefully you'll like it!

Natasha was stunned to silence at the words she heard over the phone; for the first time in a long time she just couldn't comprehend what was going on. She somehow managed to end the call before letting her arm drop down and the phone fall to the ground. This wasn't possible. She felt herself take a shaky breath, but just couldn't work out why she was struggling to breathe.

Breathe, Natasha, breathe. She mentally repeated to herself before slowly easing down onto the couch. Her elbows braced against her knees as she hunched forward and found her eyes fogging up with tears. It wasn't long before the tears overflowed - but no matter what, she couldn't make them stop; she was still trying to manage her own breathing.

It had to be a lie. He was dead, she knew he was dead… but now… now she wasn't so sure.

Suddenly a strong hand was on her shoulder and the couch dipped beside her as someone took a seat. "What's wrong, Nat?" Steve asked, worry coating his voice.

Natasha opened her mouth to speak, to answer, but nothing came out. Instead she just shook her head and closed her eyes, hunching forward even more. She had to calm down.

The hand squeezed her shoulder gently. "Did someone die?" Was his next question, voice softer.

She shook her head. "No… he's alive," her voice broke on the last word and she mentally cursed herself for being so weak, but she didn't have the strength right now to pull herself together - maybe she just shouldn't talk for a few minutes.

Steve was quiet for a few minutes, clearly unsure how to deal with such vague information. "I don't know who it could be that's got you reacting like this, but I assume it's someone who did something to you. Is that it?"

Natasha let out a hoarse laugh; it was almost ridiculous that that was what he first thought of. If somebody she wanted to be dead wasn't, she would just rectify that. "No," she answered, her voice sounding more steady, thankfully. However, her cheeks were getting wetter by the second, but at least she was able to think a bit more clearly - clear enough to wonder if she should tell Steve. He would tell the Avengers and she wasn't sure if some of them would be happy with this information. "Nothing like that," she said vaguely.

She could almost hear the way he scrunched up his face in confusion. "Well, what is it? You can talk to me, you know. I won't tell anyone." He said earnestly, rubbing her shoulder a little in what was probably a comforting gesture.

Natasha wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. "I'm fine, Steve, just… received some surprising intel. I'm fine," she decided. She looked at him, still breathing deeper than normal and she could almost feel that her eyes were red and puffy - she was an ugly cryer, which is another reason why she refuses to cry. "Thanks, though."

Steve looked hesitant to let it go, but slowly removed his hand from her shoulder. "I hate seeing you so torn up, you know." He said. "Is there anything I can do to cheer you up, at least?"

"No, I'm good. There's nothing you can do," Natasha responded as calmly as she could - she tended to get really angry when anybody saw her cry; she actually shot Clint in the foot before for commenting on it.

Determination settled on his face and suddenly he was kissing her, holding her close and showering affection on her through the simple gesture. After they pulled apart, he smoothed her hair from her face fondly and asked with a small smile, "Feel better now?"

Natasha was stunned - not as stunned at finding out her husband from a decade ago was actually alive, but definitely stunned. "Now's not the time to make out… but thanks," she said before standing up and quickly leaving the room. He was a pretty good kisser; definitely better than when she surprised him with a kiss.

Natasha was finally alone after hearing the news that her husband, whom she thought had died, was actually alive. She closed her eyes and allowed the scolding hot water to cascade around her. The whole situation was bizarre, confusing, enraging, eye-opening, and offered a lot of relief.

Once upon a time, she loved Alexi and there was no doubt in her mind that he loved her too. They had chosen to get married after falling in love; it was nothing to do with the KGB, even though both of them were intertwined in the organisation. To her, it was the light at the end of a very long, narrow and gloomy tunnel. However, only a few years into their marriage, she was informed that he had died in a laboratory experiment - being young and naive, she believed them and didn't do much digging. Within a year of his death, she met Clint and became a traitor.

She doesn't regret anything in her life. Natasha knows that what she did as a child, what she was forced to do, wasn't her - they weren't her choices - and learned to differentiate between what her choices were and what were others'. Alexi was probably one of Natasha's first real choices of her life. And now finding out that the KGB took him away from her was enraging her beyond anything she had felt before for them. This was one thing she would never be able to forgive them for.

But that didn't make life right now easier; that wouldn't change what happened and that wouldn't assist her in what to do now. Alexi was currently in the custody of S.H.I.E.L.D - he was willingly there to find her and rekindle what they once had. Of course, there was a huge part of Natasha that wanted to run straight into his arms, but then there was the other part of Natasha. The part that knew there was a high chance that Alexi was a KGB spy - he could have been sent to assassinate her, since he had the highest chance of getting to her more than anybody else she knew. And on top of that, she wasn't sure if she wanted to rekindle things with him - sure, she still loved him, she always would, but things were different now.

Things were a lot different. She was Natasha Romanoff, not Natalia Romanova. The day she changed her name was the day she stopped being the woman that Alexi knew. She had friends, people who she could count on, depend on, rely on. He wasn't the only man in her life and even though she hadn't married again, that didn't mean she wasn't loyal to anybody.

Of course, she wasn't particularly dating anybody, or in any form of official relationship, but if that kiss with Steve earlier meant anything to him - like it did her - then that was a step towards something. She wasn't sure she wanted to take that step back and risk it with Alexi.

But how was one to know what is best? She knew how it felt to be with Alexi, she knew their plans and how they worked together. She knows and misses the love they shared. Steve is a different story - they had only ever been friends and for a very long time, she didn't think anything would happen between them - he was always too good for her… also, he told her he only wanted a friend.

Sometimes, Natasha thinks it was easier when she was in the Red Room, her every move controlled by somebody else. Because now, she had to decide for herself.

Taking a breath, she turned off the shower and stepped onto the soft rug. The towel she wrapped around her body was also soft - maybe too soft. Her life had changed so much over the last decade that she wasn't even sure if she and Alexi would even be able to have a conversation. But, he was her husband, or was her husband, and deserved at least a face to face. It didn't mean that she was just going to jump straight back into the marriage with him, but she wasn't just going to throw away what they had because a decade had passed.

Additionally, it didn't change anything between her and Steve - they weren't officially an item and he was a very understanding individual. Only time would tell what will happen in the future.

Steve knocked on her door at about four the next day, having decided the day prior to give Natasha some time alone to really think over whatever it was that was that had her so distraught. He just hoped that she'd gotten some peace between then and now. "Nat?" He called when she didn't immediately answer the door like she tended to do.

"Come on in," Natasha called from within.

He hesitantly pushed the door open and went inside, quietly closing it behind him. She was seated on her bed, leaning on the headboard with an old photo album, and he stood there, unsure. "You okay?" Because she seemed… off.

She nodded gently. "Yeah... yeah, I am," Natasha confirmed, almost as if she was telling herself too before looking at him. "You can sit down, if you wanted to."

Steve carefully took a seat on the edge of the mattress, giving her some space but still close enough to reach out and touch her… if such a gesture would even be accepted. She wasn't as crushingly depressed today, it seemed, but she was definitely solemn. "You feeling better today?"

"Well, I'm over my life coming crashing in on me, but… it's harder to move on when they're not dead… I guess it's very bittersweet," Natasha answered, closing the album and putting it down beside her. "You know?" She added, looking at him for a response.

His head was still reeling over the fact that her life had crashed in on her, and it had involved someone who was apparently still living. "Wait, what is this about, Nat?" He asked, catching himself after 'wait' and switching his tone to something gentler, more encouraging.

Natasha's eyes practically bore into his for a moment or two. "I…" She paused for a moment, tilting her head to one side. "I thought I told you yesterday - perhaps not." Another pause as she straightened up slightly. "My husband, who I thought had died over ten years ago, turned out to be… not as dead as I thought. He went to S.H.I.E.L.D to find me and… found me." Her face was a mixture of confusion and something else he couldn't decipher.

Steve stared at her, stunned. "Your husband… and he, what? Faked his death? Hid? For ten years? What happened?" He wasn't exactly sure what he was specifically inquiring about - all of it, he supposed. It was a huge bundle of confusion.

Natasha started shaking her head halfway through his third question. "No, no… the KGB killed him… and they killed me. We didn't know the other was alive." She answered letting out a big sigh. "Things would have been very different had they not made me believe he was dead."

He didn't really want to think about Natasha with another man - damn, wait. "Wait, so are you two… resuming where you left off, then?" He asked, trepidation twisting his lungs. He wordlessly promised that if the answer was yes, he wouldn't give her or her… husband… any grief over it. They had something older and deeper than he had a right to intrude on.

"No. Legally our marriage ended years ago, and…" She paused to let out a sigh. "We both lead different lives now, and we decided it would be best to just continuing our lives as friends. We both have different lives… different ambitions."

While he was internally relieved that they wouldn't be a couple again, Steve still felt a bit of solemn understanding. "He's still with the KGB." It wasn't really a question. He just sort of… knew.

Natasha looked down and shrugged. "Apparently not. I honestly don't know what to believe right now, but I am inclined to believe him. It's all… complicated. I don't want to talk about it any more."

He nodded slowly. "Alright. What were you looking at earlier?" He asked, gesturing to the picture album she'd been looking through.

Natasha lifted the photo album with care, hesitated and then handed it over to him. "He kept our album, with our wedding and… other pictures."

Just as gingerly, Steve took the album and gently set in on his lap, looking to her just in case she wanted to change her mind on him looking inside. She didn't reach to take it back, just shrugged, so he turned back to the book and opened it. Several pictures were attached to the first page, all of a wedding theme. It appeared it was a small, private ceremony, with minimal attendance and little decoration. Still, the clear adoration in the gorgeous bride's eyes as she looked up at her new husband was more than enough to compensate for the lack of 'wedding' environment. Just seeing such a look on Natasha's face, almost identical to how she looked now - did she even age? - was almost too much for Steve to comprehend. Natasha wasn't naturally so… adoring. "Wow - you were beautiful. In your dress, I mean. You're just as lovely now." He quickly corrected.

"Thanks," Natasha replied shortly, but then continued. "It was a long time ago." She reached forward and closed the album, but left it on Steve's lap. "I never really looked back before; when I left the KGB, I left everything - not that I had the chance to go back and pack, but… I am glad. I'm not specifically upset about it now, still pissed though. I'm happy now, with you, the team, what we do. I'm really, truly happy in pretty much every aspect of my life - I wasn't back then. I was happy with him, but not my job… or anything else, really."

Steve nodded somberly. "I'm sorry things were like that for you," he said genuinely. "You deserve the best in all aspects of your life." He was curious about what other photos would be on the other pages of the album, but reverently handed it back to her. He didn't want to seem nosy, and she had to have closed the cover for a reason.

"It's all good now. No point dwelling on the past when there's company," Natasha responded, accepting the album back and pulling it in her top drawer before returning her attention to him. "How are you?"

At the sudden change of topic, Steve shrugged. "I'm fine. Not much to say about it… I am sad that you're going through this, though. It can't be easy." He wished he could somehow make this better for her - show her just how much he cared for her, and how he would have her back. She shouldn't have to carry all of this burden alone, go through the pain of the loss of her husband and come out of it still without anyone to love.

"I've been through a lot worse; I can get through this," Natasha informed him before lightly and affectionately punching his arm. "At least this time I have you to keep me company."

"You sure do," he agreed as he offered her a supporting smile and rested a hand on her shoulder. It was only now that he realized they had somehow gotten closer during the conversation than when he'd first sat down with her. He wondered if that was mostly him moving or if she had decided to close the gap between them. She was so close he could smell her shampoo, along with her usual scent of lavender and gunpowder. It was an odd combination, to be sure, but it was Natasha, and it worked. He decided he was overthinking this closeness and followed what his gut was telling him to do - he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her lips.

She didn't do too much to reciprocate, but she didn't pull away, and for a moment he just memorized the feel of her lips on his, intoxicated by her closeness. Then he pulled back and gave her an apologetic smile. "Sorry… Maybe that wasn't the best ti-" She cut him off with a small mischievous smile before pulling him into another, deeper kiss.

And there ya have it!

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Have a good night, Lovelies!

-Violet