Got a prompt from a friend: "yellow, seven, sassy" and I was listening to If Tomorrow Never Comes by Garth Brooks and got the feels.
If Tomorrow Never Comes
Steve stood outside Natasha's door, clad in the white and red Quantum suit. He fiddled with his glove and took a deep breath. He was nervous; he never was good at talking to women. But this might be very well the last time any of them would see each other again. What if something happened, and he never saw her again? He'd waited long enough.
Natasha's door cracked open and she emerged, wearing the Quantum suit she had just changed into, head down, arms up, tying off her braid. She nearly bumped into Steve and she jumped in fright, not expecting to see him there.
"Steve! What are you doing here?" she asked, taking a step back so she wasn't so close to him. Steve glanced her up and down.
She was wearing her Quantum suit, identical to his, albeit smaller. The built-in gun holster on her right thigh held a well-worn, familiar Glock pistol, and around her wrists were her Widow's Cuffs, loaded with the electrical disk Bites that packed quite a punch. Her head was haloed by the sun's bright white-yellow light streaming from the window behind her, giving her an angelic glow. She'd tied her two-tone hair off in a French braid, one smaller braid starting at her part trailing down the side of her head, threaded into the main braid. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, their reasons unknown to Steve. She was beautiful.
"I, uh, I had to talk to you," Steve said, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Shoot," she said, crossing her arms and leaning on the door jamb.
"Natasha, I've, uh," Steve stuttered, cheeks red.
"Spit it out, Rogers, we've got somewhere to be," Natasha said, putting a hand on her hip.
"Uh, okay, I-"
"You really don't know how to talk to women, do you?" Natasha asked, an amused smile playing at her lips.
"Uh, no, not really," Steve said with a rueful laugh. "I love you, Natasha," he finally blurted. At Natasha's surprised look, Steve ducked his head. Stupid! Why'd you say it like that?!
"I love you too, Steve," Natasha said quietly after a moment.
"You, you do?" Steve's head shot up.
"I've loved you ever since you grabbed me, pushed me through a door, and shoved me into a wall at the hospital," Natasha sad, giving him her signature sassy smile.
"Really? I mean, I'm sorry about that," Steve replied a little too quickly.
"You're forgiven, Rogers," she replied, moving to stand fully upright. His figure dwarfed her; she only came up to his shoulder.
"Anyway, I, um, just wanted to tell you that," Steve started again. "Cause we've got this thing to attend to, and if something goes wrong, and I don't see you again, I just wanted to tell you, if tomorrow never comes, I'll love you forever and always, cause I want you to be my best girl."
Natasha seemed to be at a loss for words, eyes shimmering. To be asked to be Steve's best girl was extremely special, since, as far as Natasha knew, that title was only reserved for Peggy Carter.
"Steve, I, I don't know what to say." Natasha blinked tears away.
"Is that a yes?" Steve asked quietly. She nodded and raised up her toes on instinct. Steve bent down and met her lips in a kiss, wrapping his arms gently around her waist. Natasha put her hands on the back of his neck and deepened the kiss. When they finally pulled away, they were breathless.
"If you guys are quite finished, we've got somewhere to be," a voice cut in and the pair whipped around. Clint stood about 7 paces away, running a hand through his mohawked hair, his eyes shining, amused.
"Clinton Francis!" Natasha scolded, giving him a deadly glare that said run. Natasha zipped after him as he turned tail and ran, but not before she caught and tackled him, sitting on him until Steve grabbed her under the arms and pulled her off her best friend.
"Thanks a lot, Nat," Clint said with a laugh as the two of them stood. Natasha playfully punched his shoulder as Clint trotted down the hall. "Now come on, you two, we've got things to do, places to be."
"You two act like kids," Steve pointed out once he had regained her attention. She shrugged.
"Helps keep our minds off this," Natasha replied with a shrug.
"How do you really feel about it?" Steve asked tenderly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
"You want to know the truth? I'm terrified. This thing we're about to pull off is supposed to be impossible. It's not supposed to work. That scares the crap out of me," Natasha said quietly.
"Me too, sweetheart, me too." Steve pulled her close, hand resting on the back of her head as she laid it on his chest. Her shoulders shuddered with sobs she had held in for way too many years. Steve held her while she cried, allowing her to let it out. He rested his cheek on her hair, breathing in the smell of her strawberry shampoo. She pulled away, looking embarrassed.
"Clint's right, we've got somewhere to be," she said after a shuddering breath.
"Let's go, then," Steve said, taking her hand and walking towards the hangar where Tony's machine stood. What was left of the Avengers walked up the ramp and Steve gave his small speech he'd practiced in the bathroom mirror for hours.
"Whatever it takes," he ended it with, ignoring the goofy comments from Scott and Rocket. Tony gave the last instructions to Hulk, as Natasha gave Steve one last smile.
"Tomorrow will come, Steve," she said, loud enough only for him to hear. "See you in a minute."
And with that, she was gone.
If tomorrow never comes
Will she know how much I loved her?
(...)
So tell that someone that you love
Just what you're thinking of
If tomorrow never comes.
- "If Tomorrow Never Comes", Garth Brooks.