Chapter Thirty-Five | Bake & Skate
Alaina
Sam had Cujo.
Bucky had the key to her garage in case he needed somewhere to sleep that wasn't his room.
Alaina had everything she needed.
Almost everything she needed.
And lastly, Natasha was on her way.
Yes, Alaina was forcing Natasha to come over for her date idea. Was that selfish? Probably.
But she had a great night planned out for her girlfriend.
Yes, her girlfriend.
Alaina Gunley's girlfriend was Natasha Romanoff.
Natasha Romanoff was Alaina Gunley's girlfriend.
Goddamn.
Even though Al had meticulously planned out everything ahead of time, she underestimated how long it would take to bake a cake. She thought that it would be sweet to make something for Natasha, something she could throw together in under an hour, but nope. She completely lost track of time tidying her house that she's only put out the measured ingredients. Not even the utensils.
She was so excited to bake Natasha and herself a cake.
So, when she heard a knock on her front door, there was panic.
She's fucked everything up and she was going to cry herself to sleep that night.
Mentally conjuring ways to shoot herself in the head without dying, Alaina yelled for Natasha to 'come in!' as she paced frantically around her kitchen, clicking away on her laptop to find a decent recipe. Maybe she could bake it in less than 5 seconds?
Time travel would be a pretty useful power right about now.
"Hey there," Natasha spoke up from behind her. Alaina turned and saw her leaning against the doorframe, a gift bag in hand. She was just… when was she not gorgeous? Wearing black jeans, a black tee and a brown leather jacket, she was honest to god perfect. "You look a little…"
"Dead? Dying? Ready to die?" Al rushed out unintentionally. She wasn't even feeling butterflies, she was so panicked about the cake. "God, I'm such a failure," she muttered into her palms, slumping against her kitchen counter.
She heard something being placed on the floor before a quiet, "Hey," met her ears. Soft hands gently clasped around Al's fingers and pulled them away from her face, and her dark eyes were met with green. It somehow calmed her nerves, just staring into them. "What's going on?"
"I tried baking a cake for us to eat before we go out, but I lost track of time," Alaina told her. "I know it sounds ridiculous, but… ugh." She dropped her shoulders and laced her fingers through Natasha's and held them next to her, inadvertently pulling the assassin closer. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be." Natasha's lip quirked as her thumb ran over Al's skin. "What time do we have to leave?"
"Any time, really," Al said with a shrug. "But I was thinking around 7, in a half hour."
"Would it be life-changing if we were a little late?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
Alaina frowned. "Uh, sure… Why?"
"So we can bake a cake, moron." Natasha smiled sweetly as she unclasped their hands, moving to assess the mess on the counter. "Have you got a recipe in mind?" She looked at her expectantly.
Al could only stare at her with a dumbfounded look. What the hell did she do to deserve this woman?
"Well, uh," she stammered, the nerves finally creeping at the back of her neck. "Yeah, here." She leaned over to unlock her laptop and watched as Natasha skimmed over it, a furrow between her brows.
"'Mary Berry's Chocolate Cake Recipe'?" Natasha read, looking over her shoulder questioningly.
"Hey, I trust Mary Berry with my life, okay?" Alaina said in a warning tone, picking up a spatula to point it at her. "Don't diss the queen."
"Not dissing." Natasha held up her hands in mock surrender. "I just prefer Jamie Oliver, that's all."
"God, who are you?" Al shook her head. "And I already bought all the ingredients for this one, so deal with it."
"I'm dealing." Natasha chuckled. "I read out the ingredients and you check if you've got them, okay?"
"You don't trust me?" Al put the spatula down.
"Just a precaution. Now get to it."
Natasha listed off the ingredients and Al smugly declared that she remembered everything. The redhead gave an eyeroll but was still smiling, which felt like an accomplishment in Al's eyes.
"Preheat the stove to 180C, or gas 4," Natasha told her, reading off the website. "I'd like to point out that this has 3.2 stars out of 5."
"But it also has 8 steps, Natasha, which is better than Jamie Oliver's 20 million step plan to make a cupcake," Alaina pointed out, preheating the stove.
"Jamie Oliver doesn't get 3.2 stars, though," Natasha remarked cockily. At Al's glare, she shrugged with a closed-lipped smile and turned back to the recipe. "Beat together the eggs, flour, caster sugar, butter and baking powder until smooth in a large mixing bowl." She looked to Al. "Have you got a bowl?"
"Have I got a bowl?" Alaina scoffed, opening the cupboard to grab a large mixing bowl. "I'm not a barbarian. What do you think I eat noodles out of?"
"Clint once tried cooking ramen in a coffee pot," Natasha informed her, cocking a hip against the counter. "Steve wasn't too happy. Neither was Tony when the Tower had to be evacuated."
"That doesn't even surprise me," Al muttered, placing the bowl on the counter and grabbing the right ingredients. "Are you gonna sit there and look cute or are you gonna help me beat?"
"Can't I do both?" she teased but moved forward to help anyway.
"Got me there."
Natasha winked and Alaina swore her heart stopped, but decided not to dwell on it when Natasha began adding the ingredients to the large mixing bowl.
"Would you like to do the honours of cracking the eggs?" Al asked, holding 3 eggs in her palm, outstretched towards the assassin. "I would, but the last time I cracked an egg I smashed it against the bowl and it splattered twenty feet in every direction. I broke the bowl, too."
Natasha paused and gave her a weird look. "How old were you when this happened?"
"Like, twenty," Al answered. "In my defence, I was drunk and Sam tried eating a raw egg, shell and all, the same night, so…"
"You were baking while drunk?" Natasha asked, taking eggs from Al and cracking all three in the bowl at the same time with a weird gracefulness. How could the act of cracking eggs be so graceful?
"We weren't baking." At the redhead's questioning expression, Alaina shrugged. "College was a weird time."
Natasha shook her head with a smile and mixed the ingredients together until it became smooth and buttery.
"Put the cocoa in a separate mixing bowl and add the water a little at a time to make a stiff paste," Al read from the recipe. "Add to the cake mixture. Okay, you keep beating and I'll start pouring."
"Please stop using beating as a verb."
"If Mary can do it, I can, too."
"Good Lord," Natasha muttered under breath.
Alaina nudged her with her foot and gave her a side-smile, and they went back to mixing.
It was awkward for Al to mix the cocoa and water with a spatula since it was almost the width of the bowl – she ignored Natasha silently laughing to herself at her side, her shoulders shaking as she mixed her own ingredients.
Al poured her mixture into Natasha's and they whisked all of that together, before pouring it into the cake tins that Mary suggested.
"Bake in the preheated oven for about 20-25 mins, or until it's springy to the touch," Natasha read aloud, wiping her chocolate-y fingers on a dish towel. "Don't we have to leave in 15 minutes?"
"Uh…" That's a very good point. "I could always slow-cook it?" she suggested.
"You mean like you would slow-cook a turkey overnight for Christmas?"
"Yeah, but it would be, like… fast. So it would happen over 20-25 minutes instead of 12 hours."
"Or," Natasha started, stepping forward to brush something off Alaina's nose, "we could bake it when we get back." She showed the white powder on her thumb. "Did you eat the caster sugar?"
"Uh, first of all, that's not caster sugar," Alaina defended.
"Oh, really?"
"Yup."
"Then what is it?"
"… Cocaine."
Natasha shook her head with a quiet laugh, eyes crinkling as she looked to the side. Al felt herself smile, too. "And what was your second of all?"
"Yeah, what do you mean by 'when we get back'?" she asked with a furrow between her brows. "I mean, I'm sure it'd be fine for a few hours, but waiting a week or however long before you come back here is pretty ridiculous, and I don't think Mary Berry would approve—"
"Alaina," Natasha cut off, laughing a little. "I mean we can come back here after whatever you're planning and finish it. I don't mind staying over if you don't."
"Oh- Oh." Al wasn't expecting that. "Well, if you're okay with it…"
"I'm perfectly fine with it."
"Great." Al grinned toothily and closed her laptop, before turning back to Natasha. "You should probably wear a coat, eh, you can just borrow one of mine. Let's—"
"Wait!" Natasha almost yelled, brushing past Alaina. Al watched, startled, as she retrieved the dropped bag she carried in at the start from the floor and handed it to her, eyes twinkling and full of hope. "I got you a little something."
Natasha Romanoff just got her a present for their second date, oh my god, was this even happening? Is this a dream? Was she secretly dead?
Alaina reached into the gift bag and pulled out a bottle of something with pale brown liquid inside and read the label.
"You got me Pappy Van Winkle?" she whispered, staring wide-eyed at the bourbon before focusing back onto Natasha. "Do you know how expensive this stuff is?"
"Well, yeah, since I bought it," she teased and leaned over to rub Al's arm. "Don't sweat it, though. You deserve this."
Alaina bit her lip to hide her smile, and when she thought that she would break out into a watery grin anyway, she brushed past Natasha and put the bottle in her fridge to hide her face. Hopefully, she wouldn't drink it all in one night. She usually has self-control when it comes to drinking, at least more so than Sam. He doesn't know how to hold his alcohol. Even for someone as buff as him.
She'd never say that to his face, though.
Al ran to grab Natasha a coat – one of those long duffel ones – as Natasha put tinfoil over the cake batter to keep it fresh for when they get back. Natasha shrugged on the coat, Al found her own pea coat, she left a short but sweet note for Bucky explaining where she was because he was like a weirdly overprotective mother, and then she locked the door behind her with the spare key.
Natasha led her to the Jeep – the same one from their first date – and moved to go into the driver's seat, but Al stopped her.
"I don't think so," Al sing-songed, grabbing her gloved hand to pull her away from the door. She held up a piece of cloth. "You really think I'd let it go?"
Natasha groaned, tilting her head back with her arms crossed against the wind. "Do we really have to do this?"
"Uh, yes." She held the material up to Natasha's face and put on her best Batman voice, "Close your eyes or face the consequences." Natasha only cocked an eyebrow. "I don't like threatening pretty women, but I will."
"You technically already threatened me." She sighed, and then relented.
Alaina placed the soft material over the assassin's closed eyes and tied it at the back of her head, making sure to keep it loose enough so it wouldn't hurt, but tight enough so it wouldn't shift off.
Like their first date but roles reserved, Al placed a hand on her lower back and held her hand in the other, leading her to the passenger seat of the Jeep. She buckled her seatbelt, booped her nose which earned a laugh from Natasha, and then walked over to the driver's seat, got in, started the engine, and then drove.
It was a short drive, maybe 15 minutes, and it was filled with banter and laughter. She was so used to hanging around with Sam that she kind of forgot what it was like to be friends with other people. Obviously, she had Curt, but she hardly saw him anyway since he lived a bit away and spent most of his time counselling. Now she had people like Clint, Steve and Tony she could call her friend. Although now, she wasn't too sure if Tony even liked her.
Alaina shook herself out of her thoughts, knowing it would put her in a bad mood.
She wanted this to be perfect for Natasha.
She parked the Jeep and repeated the process from last time; shut the engine, got up, walked to the passenger seat, helped Natasha get out of the car, wrapped an arm around her waist and led her to the date.
Natasha was surprisingly vocal about wanting to know where they were going.
"Are we there yet?"
"Is the blindfold really necessary?"
"Why keep it on when we're there?"
"Please just let me see."
Al told her that she was very impatient for someone who was trained specifically to be patient, but didn't let up. She didn't take off the blindfold until they were there.
So, the big reveal was that they were at an indoor ice rink.
Al called the owner a few days ago and asked how much it would be to make it completely private, and it was a pretty hefty price but she hoped to god it would be worth it. She told him that it was for a date when he asked, and he actually cared apparently, since the fairy lights strung up around the rink were glowing, switching from colour to colour. The area was completely dark other than the dim lights.
It was atmospheric and romantic. Like watching the sunset on their first date.
Alaina untied the blindfold and removed it from Natasha's eyes, shoving the piece of material in her coat pocket. They were stood close to each other, Al facing Natasha's side to watch the woman's reaction, chewing her lower lip.
Natasha's eyes were slightly wide, mouth agape. She couldn't read what that reaction meant. Was it good or bad?
What if she didn't like ice skating?
Wait, she was Russian. She probably liked the ice, at least. Russia was filled with ice, right?
"Uh," Al stammered for a moment. "If you don't want to do it, that's fine. I don't mind finding a nearby café or something, or we can just head back to mine and finish the cake. Find a movie to put on or something…"
She trailed off when Natasha turned her head, a small smile playing at her lips. Her eyes were gleaming as she stared up at the taller woman.
"What?" Al asked with a crease between her brows.
Without warning, Natasha reached up and kissed Alaina, quickly and almost tentatively, but with a tenderness and passion that filled her body with warmth. Natasha's hand cupped her cheek, fingers twined in her short hair while her other hand rested on her shoulder, squeezing slightly. Comfortingly.
She pulled away after a moment, or maybe it was longer? Al didn't know how long it really lasted, but she knew she didn't want it to end.
"You…" She could only stare with wide eyes and parted lips at the redhead, who broke out in a full grin.
"I love it," Natasha whispered, and placed another kiss on her lips, a short peck that still managed to twist Al's stomach in so many ways. "Whoever gets in last drives us home."
Home.
Alaina smiled.
"You're on, Romanoff."
Author's Note: ahshsfsbioafgniuafiubf IT FINALLY HAPPENED AFTER 36 CHAPTERS. I had so many comment and PM me saying that the last chapter was so cute to them, so I hope this one surpassed that!
Tell me what you think! Was it gay enough? Cute enough? Do we need more Nalaina? (Yes.)
Short sidenote: I'm currently beta-ing for a story by a lovely lady called LEXIALEXIA. I'll link the story here and on my profile so you can check it out! She's pretty nervous about uploading it and doesn't think that's it's great, so give her some love by leaving her a review or sending her a PM.
Thanks for the awesome comments as always, have a great week:)