With a Little Help from My Friends
"Romanoff!" Steve shouted the moment he jumped out of his truck.
Natasha winced. Between her hoodie, sunglasses, and position—purposefully posted up on the far corner of the entrance of the building and partially obscured by a fenced-in tree—it should've been obvious that she was trying to lay low. Either Steve Rogers didn't understand that, or he didn't care. Natasha was willing to bet it was a mixture of both after what happened the night before.
She nodded in silent greeting and took a sip of her coffee.
Ever the Boy Scout, Steve looked both ways before crossing the street that separated the parking lot from the mall. He jogged quickly across out of respect for a waiting car, throwing a friendly wave of gratitude for good measure.
"You can call me Natasha, you know," Natasha pointed out as Steve joined her behind the tree. "Or Nat. That's what Clint calls me."
"So, Natasha, why'd you wanna meet here?" Steve gestured to the mall. He looked different from how he usually did. It took Natasha a moment for her to realize that it was because he was wearing glasses.
"Um," Natasha subconsciously adjusted her own sunglasses, pushing them farther up her nose. "It's Clint's birthday in a week, and I still haven't got him a present. Thought I'd do it today since it was the only excuse I could give him that would make him leave me alone." She held up a second cup. "Coffee?"
Steve shook his head. "No thanks. Caffeine stunts your growth."
Natasha sized him up. "And we wouldn't want that. What are you? 6 foot? Why, you're practically a Hobbit."
"You're hilarious," Steve deadpanned.
"I try."
"So, uh, you ready to go in, or…" Steve gesture toward the front entrance.
"One sec." Natasha finished off her coffee and quickly downed the second, relishing the pain as the hot liquid burned her throat. She took a deep breath. "Okay. Now I'm ready."
Most of the shops were just opening up as Natasha and Steve entered the mall. Aside from a few elderly mall walkers, the place was pretty empty. Only a few early morning shoppers were present. Natasha presumed that their peers would be too busy enjoying the last days of nice weather to want to spend a day inside. Either that or they'd still be sleeping after the late night at The Tower. Regardless, it looked like her plan had worked. As far as Natasha could tell, she and Steve were the only two high schoolers there.
"Wanna get something to eat first?" she asked, knowing that Steve would probably want to discuss the "Bucky" situation. She figured it would be better to get that whole conversation over and done with as soon as possible. Like ripping off a surgically attached Band-Aid. Or an arm.
"Sure," Steve replied casually.
They headed to the food court where they parted ways briefly before reconvening at a table in the furthest corner of the wide room. Steve had opted for a healthy hodgepodge of fruit, yogurt, and oats as well as an egg sandwich on bread that must've been 87% seeds. He'd also managed to snag three plastic bottles of milk.
Natasha looked down at her own meal—a slice of pizza larger than her face and another black coffee—and sighed.
"So…" Steve began.
"So…" Natasha echoed.
"You kissed Bucky."
And they were off.
"That is…accurate."
"Probably not the best idea you've ever had."
Natasha grimaced. "Harsh, but fair." She fiddled with a bit of crust. "Then again, it wasn't so much an 'idea' as it was an unwitting impulse. Honestly, I might've been possessed."
"Possessed?"
"Mind control, maybe?"
Steve leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. Natasha groaned.
"Look, Steve, I messed up. I know that. It was a moment of weakness, and now I gotta figure out what I'm going to do about it."
Steve was silent for a moment. Natasha started to squirm under his contemplative gaze.
"Why'd you do it?" he finally asked.
"I don't know."
"Why'd you do it?"
"I said, 'I don't know'."
"Why'd you do it?"
Natasha squinted at him. "Are you deaf? I said, 'I don't know'."
Steve pursed his lips. "Why. Did. You. Do. It?"
Struggling to bite back a howl of frustration, Natasha slumped down in her seat. "Cause I'm not over him?"
"Is that a question?"
"I'm not over him," Natasha repeated with a little more conviction.
"He thinks he has a chance," Steve said. "Is he right?"
"I don't know."
"Is he right?"
"Honestly, Steve. I don't know," she snapped. "And if you repeat yourself again, I will shove each of those milk bottles into your various orifices."
Thankfully, Steve didn't repeat himself. He did raise an eyebrow, however, and Natasha could practically hear the question.
"No? Yes?" she offered. "I seriously don't know. What I do know, is that I'm confused."
"Why?"
Natasha shrugged. "Cause I loved him. If he hadn't left, I'd probably still be with him. I had it pretty rough growing up, and—aside from Clint—Bucky was the first person I ever felt close to, that I could be myself with, you know? He was special to me in a way no one had ever been or has been since, and that's a hard thing to let go of, no matter what happens."
"He's my best friend," Steve said simply. "I don't want to see him get hurt."
"I know," Natasha murmured. "And as mad at him as I was, am, I don't want to see him get hurt either, especially by me. No matter what's happened between us."
"Which is why you need to figure out what you're feeling, what you want, so you can be honest with him. Preferably as soon as possible."
"Can you not be so insightful right now? It's infuriating."
Steve grinned. "Sorry. I'll try to tone it down."
Natasha snorted. "Thanks for not being a butthead about this."
"No problem."
Steve went back to eating his breakfast while Natasha continued pulling her pizza apart. She couldn't bring herself to eat it.
"I'm confused."
"About?" Steve prompted.
"In general."
"Obviously."
"Shut up, Steve," Natasha said, ignoring Steve's grin. "I think I'm confused in general. Bucky hurt me, but I still have all these," she gagged, "feelings."
"Happens to the best of us."
Natasha laughed but stopped short, studying Steve as he nonchalantly finished off a bottle of milk.
"Thanks."
Steve looked up at her. "For what?"
"For this," she said, gesturing between them. "For not being, you know, like I said, a butthead. About this, about today, about everything with Bucky. You've been pretty cool about everything in general."
"What can I say? I'm a pretty cool guy, I guess."
"You are such a nerd," she shot back. "I'm being serious."
"So am I."
Natasha groaned. "No, you're not. Now, shut up, and let me compliment you. I was really nervous about meeting up with you today after last night."
Steve looked genuinely concerned. "Why?"
"Because. This could've gone pretty bad. I know you're his best friend. You have this whole protective vibe about you. I wasn't sure how you were going to react, but—I gotta say—you've actually been really helpful and kind, and I just really appreciate it, so…thanks. Thank you, Steve. I mean it."
"Listen, Natasha. Yes, Bucky's my best friend, but you're my friend, too…unless I completely misread our dinner the other night. You're also my teammate and a human being. What kind of friend and teammate would I be if I held something like that against you? What kind of man would I be?"
"Again, with the insightfulness. Damn, Rogers, you're on a roll."
"I try."
When Steve finished his breakfast and it was clear that Natasha had no intention of following suit, they both discarded their trash and set off in search of a birthday gift for Clint.
"Where to first?" Steve asked.
"The electronics store. Clint's a bit of a high-class techie, so I thought I'd start there."
"'Kay, Nat. Lead the way."
Nat.
Natasha smiled.
"I still don't understand why you felt the need to drag me to the mall at this godforsaken hour," Tony grumbled.
"It's almost 11," Bruce repeated for what had to be the thousandth time in less than an hour. "And because we need some supplies for the Ultron project."
Tony mumbled something unintelligible and slid reluctantly out of the car. Bruce joined him outside, and they started walking toward the entrance. Tony was still grumbling.
Bruce rolled his eyes. "What now, Tony?"
"All I'm saying is that if you pull someone out of bed at the crack of—"
"It's 11."
"—way-the-hell-before-dawn—"
"Practically noon, Tony."
"—then the least you could do, is bring that person coffee."
"Oh, for the love of—Fine!—I'll buy you a cup of coffee at the food court. Happy?"
Tony wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Food court coffee? Really?"
"Tony! I swear—"
"Check out Bruce the Rage Monster. I'm messing with you. I'd love some food court coffee," Tony said with a lazy, lopsided grin. "Try not to have a conniption, dear."
Now it was Bruce's turn to grumble under his breath.
It took two coffees and a burger before Tony announced that he was properly awake. He hopped up and took the lead as they made their way toward the electronics store.
When Bucky arrived at the mall it was nearly noon. Steve had told him he needed to make a quick trip there but turned down Bucky's offer of company. An hour or so of sitting alone was too much for Bucky, so he hopped on his bike to take a ride. Ending up at the mall hadn't been his intention, but he really didn't think Steve would mind.
If anything, Bucky could use the unexpected trip to find something for Natasha.
A gift. A token.
Something to show how sorry he was. Something to show how much he cared.
How much he loved her.
"And if you guys need anything else, I've been Aaron," the twenty-something store clerk offered as he leered lustfully at Steve.
"Uh, thanks, we'll let you know," Steve choked out as he tried to ignore Natasha's smirk. When "Aaron" took the hint and wandered away, Steve turned on Natasha. "That was mean. You're mean. Just really, really, really mean."
"What?" Natasha asked, trying to look as innocent as possible.
Steve narrowed his eyes. "You know what."
"Oh, come on, Steve. What was I supposed to do?" she insisted, but Steve wasn't listening.
"Instigator? No, that's not it. Enabler. Yes. Enabler. You, Natasha Romanoff, are an enabler. And an instigator."
"I was just making conversation," Natasha tried to argue as she shook with laughter.
"And just a terrible person to boot."
"Has anyone ever told you you're a total drama queen, Steve?"
"Uh, yeah, him," Steve said, pointing at someone behind Natasha.
It was Tony and Bruce.
Crap.
"What are they doing here?" Natasha stammered.
"If I had to take a wild guess, I'd say they're shopping for electronics."
"Have they seen us?"
"I don't think so. Is everything okay? I thought you guys were friends. If anyone should be freaking out it should be—well, not me 'cause I don't care, but it certainly shouldn't be you."
Natasha turned on her heel and ducked behind a display, pulling Steve with her.
"What's going on, Natasha?"
"It's a whole thing that I really don't want to get into right now. Long story short, I'm really not in the right frame of mind to deal with Tony and Bruce right now. Oh no, they're coming. Come on," she hissed, pulling Steve with her as she weaved in and out of the aisles.
"Just so you know," Steve noted, "we probably look ridiculous. And that's only if we don't look like thieves."
"Less talking, more running away," Natasha ordered.
"Running, right. So, we can look even more like thieves. That makes perfect sense."
Eventually, they made it out of the electronics store and a good distance away, giving Natasha some room and time to breath. Only then was she comfortable enough to slow down.
"So, you wanna explain what just happened?" Steve asked.
"No."
"Cool. So, what now? You didn't get Clint a gift."
"We can go back in a bit when they're gone, right?"
"Sure."
"Is there anything you need while we wait?"
"An explanation would be nice," Steve reiterated.
"Anything else?"
Steve stared at her, waiting for an explanation that wouldn't come. He sighed. "New glasses, I guess."
Natasha snorted. "After you," she said, gesturing for him to lead the way.
Together, Steve and Natasha took the escalator upstairs to Perfect Vision.
"Huh," Bruce muttered.
"What?"
"I could've sworn I just saw…"
"What, Dr. Frank-N-Furter? I'm shivering with antici…"
"Natasha."
"—pation… What? Natasha? Natasha Romanoff? Why didn't you say something?"
"I was trying, but you kept interrupting me."
"That's not my fault," Tony argued.
"Kinda is," Bruce countered.
"Well, where did she go?"
Bruce shrugged. "I don't know, Tony. Besides, I'm not even sure it was her. Whoever it was, she was with some big, blond dude in a hat and glasses."
"Clint?"
"No. Much taller. And I've never seen Clint wear glasses. Plus, this dude was big."
"Big, how?"
"Muscle-y."
"Ah," Tony exhaled. "So, not Natasha, then."
"Guess not," Bruce agreed. "Have we got everything?"
Tony looked down at the mess of wires and packaging in their basket. "I think so."
"Good. Let's pay and get out of here. I hate the mall."
"Sure, dear, but I need to hit Perfect Vision while we're here."
"Tony."
"Hey, man. You're the one who dragged me here. You have no one to blame but yourself."
As Bucky wandered the lower level of the mall, he couldn't seem to find anything good enough for Natasha.
The mall had three levels and at least a hundred stores and kiosks. Wandering all over the place would take all day.
Just as he was about to take the escalator up to the second level, Bucky spotted an information map.
It couldn't hurt to take a peek. Maybe cut down on time, right?
Bucky marched back to the sign.
"Think it's safe yet?"
Natasha peeked around the corner and tried to angle herself so she could see the entrance to the electronics store on the floor below.
"No idea, Natasha," Steve replied, sounding as bored as he looked. "Can we just go?"
"I guess…"
"Great!" Steve hopped up from the bench he'd been lounging on and grabbed Natasha's hand, pulling her toward the escalator.
They'd barely stepped on the moving staircase when they both spotted the two people Natasha was desperately trying to avoid coming up on the opposite side. Natasha twisted back to face Steve.
"Kiss me."
"What? No," Steve protested. "You have a problem," he added. "A kissing problem."
"Not for that. Public displays of affection make people uncomfortable," she explained.
"Yes, they do—"
Natasha cut him off, snaking one hand around Steve's neck and pulling his face down to hers. Their lips didn't quite touch, but it would certainly look like they were two teenagers making out to anyone around them. Natasha held Steve in place until they reached the end of the escalator. Just before she let go, she peeked over his shoulder to make sure Tony and Bruce weren't watching. Steve watched the color drain rapidly from her face. He turned.
Tony Stark and Bruce Banner were standing at the top of the escalator, staring pointedly at them, a mixture of confusion and disgust on both of their faces.
"What the hell, man?" another voice came from behind Steve and Natasha, making both of their stomachs drop simultaneously. They whipped their heads around to find an angry Bucky standing just off to the side with murder in his eyes.
And everyone was far too distracted to notice another set of eyes watching them all.
*Song Inspiration: "With a Little Help from My Friends" - The Beatles
