"I don't have friends," Natasha told her one day.
They were sitting outside on a bench, taking burning sips of their coffee as it cooled. It was at that sweet spot in the morning when the sun was up but the city was still asleep. Not many people roamed the streets, but occasionally a jogger would pass by. The only sounds that greeted them were the chirping of the birds and the distant blare of traffic.
Claire didn't remember what they had been talking about. Only half her brain had been focusing on the conversation; the other half was busy noticing how good Natasha looked that day. She was wearing one of the leather jackets she liked so much, paired with dark skinny jeans. Her mirrored oversized sunglasses were perched on her nose. She looked effortlessly cool and sexy—
No, brain. Stop. Claire really needed to stop objectifying her. It was something she was working on.
The words had come up mid-conversation, and had taken Claire off-guard. Natasha had never struck Claire as a kind of person who struggled to make friends. She was witty and charming, knew how to drive a conversation, and seemed to know exactly what people wanted to hear come out of her mouth.
Claire cradled her coffee in her hands, lifting it so that the steam rose to her face. It was fucking freezing, and she hadn't had the sense to wear something warmer than her old college pullover. "Not a single one?"
"I have coworkers. Partners. Allies." Natasha shot her a subtle but intense look which Claire didn't know the meaning of. "Lovers."
Claire took a scorching sip of her coffee. She swallowed too fast, nearly choking, (thank god she didn't— Natasha would never let her hear the end of that) and her throat felt the consequences of it.
"But not friends," Natasha finished.
"That's kind of sad."
"It's a choice."
"Don't you get lonely?"
Natasha thought about that. "No."
Claire wanted her to elaborate, but she knew better. She wouldn't get answers out of Natasha unless Natasha wanted her to know them. Claire had found out that the best way to get Natasha to talk was to let her do it without prompting.
"Well, what about me?" she asked instead.
"What about you?"
Claire was getting better at picking up the hints that indicated Natasha was teasing. Her eyes would narrow, just barely, and a corner of her mouth would lift up into a smirk. "We're friends."
Aren't we? She wondered if she was being too forward with that assumption. They'd only been hanging out for a few weeks, and a good number of their interactions had been accidental midnight encounters. But they'd gone on a few more runs and made a habit of grabbing coffee together. They texted frequently. Weren't those the things that friends did? Normally Claire wouldn't think twice about these things, but Natasha made her question and overthink.
Natasha gazed at Claire over the rim of her coffee. She took her coffee with one cream, two sugars. Just a tad on the sweet side. Claire liked finding out these things about her, tidbits of information that she sought after like gold nuggets, giving her something to hang on to, to remember her by.
Claire could tell Natasha was weighing out her words. Natasha was never in a hurry to answer questions or fill in awkward silences. She was always so precise with her words, wielding them like they were weapons she could use to hurt and manipulate. When she spoke, they were always meaningful.
"Is that what we are?"
"Do you disagree?" Claire asked, instead of answering.
"We could be friends if you want us to be friends."
Clearly Claire wasn't the only one who could avoid directly answering questions. Natasha was the master of giving non-answers.
"Okay," Claire said easily. "We're friends."
Simple as that. It was official. They were friends— totally, definitely, completely, friends.
In a non-gay way.
Did friends flirt with each other?
Or was Claire's brain twisting things around, choosing to interpret the meaning of certain words as something they weren't? Maybe Natasha was a naturally flirty person. Plus, the definition of flirting was so subjective. Could a smile be flirting? A wink? A not-so-innocent comment?
Sometimes, being a lesbian could be so damn hard.
It was so much harder with women. The line between friend and… not a friend could be so fine. Was it platonic affection or let's fuck energy that was being shown to her? Claire found herself occasionally flirting with women before finding out that they'd never shown so much as a fleeting romantic thought about girls.
Sometimes, though, Claire doubted her suspicions about Natasha. There would be a suggestive comment that was just too deliberate to be an accidental innuendo, lingering touches that made shivers race down Claire's spine, a glance that held too much of… that… and lasted just a second too long— things that would normally make Claire's gaydar go crazy.
She forced herself to ignore them. She couldn't let herself think about it too much, or she'd drive herself insane. She reminded herself over and over that Natasha had never said anything confirming her sexuality. As far as Claire knew, Natasha was straight. Not to mention completely out of her league. It wasn't even fair, how out of her league she was.
And as cheesy as it sounded, Claire didn't want to ruin the friendship. She didn't have many friends who weren't involved in her job. Most of her friends were fellow surgeons or coworkers. She had a social life, but was too immersed in her work to make long-lasting connections that weren't driven by sex or desire. Her friendship with Natasha was rare, and she was determined to hold onto it this time.
Just friends, she promised herself.
Claire leaned back in the torn leather seat of the booth and tipped the remains of her glass into her mouth. Her throat burned in the best way as the alcohol went down, and she dropped the glass back onto the sticky surface of the table, strewn with half-empty glasses and carelessly tossed peanut shells. She wasn't aiming to get drunk tonight, just a little further than tipsy.
The music in the bar was loud and blaring, the chatter of fast-talking soccer commentators a distant background. Voices were laughing, talking, cheering, calling out orders, and some were providing subpar renditions of a Rihanna song whose name escaped Claire for the moment.
Claire was sitting back, taking it all in, watching some of her friends stumble across the dance floor. She was never one for the mass of writhing bodies on the dance floor, the loud bass of the music, or the claustrophobia that seemed to swallow her whole as the possibility of a quick exit disappeared. She danced if she had to, but she wasn't alone at the booth, so she was content to continue drinking.
Tessa sat with her in the booth, with Benji and Alejandro on the other side. They all worked at the hospital. Tessa was a surgeon like Claire, and Benji and Alejandro were both anesthesiologists.
Jake came over with a round of drinks in hand, settling himself at the shorter end of the table. He raised an eyebrow at Claire's empty glass. "First drink of the night?"
"With many more to come," she said.
Benji and Alejandro hardly budged when Jake started passing drinks around. They were completely out of it, shamelessly making fuck-me eyes and whispering to each other— Claire didn't particularly want to know what about. Their limbs were so intertwined together that it was like staring at one body with two heads. They were head over heels and not even being subtle about it.
Claire would be kidding herself if she said she wasn't at least a little jealous. To have that easy, open love with someone… it was something she used to have. She missed it.
Her eyes drifted to the dance floor again. It was a mistake, because she instantly picked out Serena in the crowd. It was an old habit that she couldn't break, no matter how hard she tried.
Serena looked good, as always. Even after two months, it still hurt to look at her. Even in the mass of people, she stood out. She moved with the kind of confidence and easy grace that drew people closer towards her. Her long, dark hair flew as she danced. The dress she wore was far from something she'd pick out for a work function, but then again, this wasn't work. Even as Claire found the pain and bitterness bubbling in her chest, she was unable to look away.
It was bad enough that they worked together. Serena ran the general surgery department, making her technically Claire's boss. Ever since the breakup, Claire had been trying to avoid her in the hallways, but it was impossible. They worked on the same floor, in the same department, shared many of the same friends. To say it was awkward was an understatement.
Tessa grabbed Claire's wrist. "Stop staring at your ex. You're over her, remember?"
Claire snapped out of it, embarrassed to have been caught. "I wasn't staring. And I am over her."
"If you say so."
"Hey, what about her?" Jake pointed his beer at some woman across the room. "She's hot."
Claire shook her head, not turning to look. "This makes me feel like a pervy frat boy trying to pick up girls."
"Is that not what we're trying to do? Just look."
Claire sighed and turned to look, cataloguing the plain white top, the faded ripped jeans, the fashionable black boots. "Not my type. Also, definitely straight. Although, those are cute boots."
Tessa tilted her head. "No doubt."
Jake scoffed. "There's no way you can tell just by… oh."
He stopped just as a tall surfer dude walked up to the woman, two drinks in hand, and slid one in her hand. He kissed her on the lips for a long, long time and took a seat next to her, arm slung over her shoulder.
"You were saying?" Claire asked.
"I stand corrected," Jake said.
"Claire wouldn't have gone for her anyway," Tessa told him. "She's still hung up on hot redhead."
"I am not!" Claire shoved her lightly. "I told you, we're just friends now."
Alejandro ripped his face away from Benji's— Claire hadn't even noticed they'd started making out— to join in. "Who's the hot redhead?"
Benji smacked him on the shoulder. "You have a boyfriend!"
"What? I'm not cheating on you, just asking."
"You're also gay," Claire reminded him. "Hot redhead is a girl, so she wouldn't have a chance with you."
Alejandro looked rather pleased.
Benji squinted at Claire's face as if he was noticing the bruises for the first time. The pattern of deep purple splotches, a souvenir from her mugging, had faded into green and yellow patches throughout the weeks. They were usually hidden under a layer of carefully-applied makeup, but Claire had been running late for work that day and forgotten. The bruises were light enough to be barely noticeable unless someone really looked at her.
"Jesus, Claire," Benji said. "Your face. What happened?"
"Fun story, actually. I got mugged— and don't start again, Tess," Claire added, turning to Tessa as she sensed a variation of an I told you so dangerously near.
"I wasn't going to!"
Jake nearly choked on the peanut he was cracking between his teeth. "You what? What the fuck, Claire? How come Tessa gets to know these things before I do?"
"Because Tessa can keep a secret," Tessa told him, delicately picking the peanut shell out of his mouth. "The bigger question is, how have you not noticed?"
"How have I not noticed?" Jake wondered, gazing at Claire's face with a new suspicion.
"I'm good at makeup," Claire said. "And it's not such a big deal."
"Not a big deal?"
"I didn't want everyone to know. And it didn't interfere with my work, so who cares?" Claire turned back to Alejandro. "Feel free to continue making out with your boyfriend."
Alejandro turned back to Benji, happy to oblige, and they promptly resumed.
Jake raised his hands, as if motioning everyone to stop. "Can we make it a thing to tell Jake things— like, oh, I don't know— you got mugged!"
"Hey Jake, I got mugged."
Jake glowered darkly at her. "Tremendously helpful, Claire."
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, okay? I'm fine now." Jake's glare didn't drop, so Claire raised her right hand stoically. "I, Claire Benson, hereby swear from this point on to tell Jake Dick Rivera all important things regarding my life."
"That's not my middle name."
"I know. It's just my fun little nickname for you." Claire elbowed Tessa. "Get it? Little, because his thing is—"
"Oh, shut up!" Jake exploded. "We slept together one time!"
Claire shuddered. "Please don't remind me. Worst thirty seconds of my life."
"Oh, fuck you."
"Real mature, guys," Tessa said, rolling her eyes.
"Wait." This time, Benji was the one to pull back from Alejandro to give Claire an affronted stare. "You slept with Jake? I thought you were—"
"A raging lesbian? Yeah, me too," Claire said. "I was hammered and convinced that I liked men. Never again."
"Let's stop talking about this," Jake said. "Back to torturing Claire about hot redhead. I don't buy the 'just friends' thing."
"Neither do I," Tessa said. "A few weeks ago, you were full-out pining over this girl."
"Not anymore. She's actually really cool. I don't want to ruin the friendship or whatever. Also, she has a name. It's Natasha."
Jake raised his eyebrows. "Ooh, Natasha."
"Don't say it like that!"
"So you're just friends?" Tessa repeated.
"Friends with benefits?" Jake added.
"Just friends. No sex."
"Uh-huh." Tessa smirked. "Isn't that what she always says, Jake?"
He shot Claire an apologetic look. "You do have a track record."
"Shut up, both of you. I can be friends with a dubiously straight woman without getting romantically involved." Claire glared at their matching skeptical glances. "I'm serious. I mean it this time."
"Fine," Tessa relented with a sigh, "we'll drop it."
"Speak for yourself."
"Jake," Tessa said firmly.
Jake raised his hands. "Kidding. I'll drop it too, Claire."
"Thanks."
Jake's eyes scanned over the bar to freeze on something— or someone— behind Claire's shoulder. His mouth dropped open. "Whoa."
Instinctively, Claire and Tessa both turned to see who he was looking at. The moment Claire found the source of Jake's attention, every muscle in her body tensed. She swore her heart stopped— or started violently spasming, it could've been either or. The violently red hair, coupled with the familiar build and figure, was impossible to mistake for another woman.
When she turned around, her eyes sweeping over the bar, Claire's breath hitched in her throat. Definitely her. She looked different tonight. Her hair was curled immaculately, her makeup was done to perfection, and the low-cut dress she was wearing sold the entire look. Claire had seen her only in business or workout clothes, neither of which matched the description of that dress. It wasn't too sophisticated for the bar, but it made her look sharp and dangerous.
Claire ducked, lowering her face to her empty glass, and Natasha's gaze just barely missed her. "Holy shit," she muttered, hardly believing it still.
Jake managed to tear his eyes away. "I know, right? She's, like, movie-star gorgeous. If I thought I even had a chance with her, I'd—"
"No, no, Jake— that's her."
"What?" Jake gazed blankly at her before realization flooded his eyes. His head snapped back so fast, he nearly gave himself whiplash. "No fucking way."
Tessa lowered her voice. "That's crazy hot neighbor?"
"No fucking way," Jake repeated, arching his neck to get a better look. "I mean, I see why you were after her. Like… damn."
Claire could hardly believe it herself.
Tessa straightened in her seat. "Introduce us," she said eagerly. "I want to meet her."
That sounded like a disaster waiting to happen. Claire fumbled for an excuse. "Maybe later. She's probably busy."
"Hang on," Jake murmured. "Who's that?"
Natasha had turned to a tall, elegant man with combed dark hair, holding a martini in hand. He was getting looks from his tailored suit, which was very Bond but obnoxiously overdressed. Claire watched as Natasha greeted him with a slow, seductive smile, leaning in to press her red lips to his cheek, lingering a beat too long to be just friendly. Her fingers grasped at his elbow, and stayed there even when she pulled back.
This was a different Natasha than Claire was accustomed to. There was no part of her that was closed-off or aloof. Her posture was open and invited attention. She commanded the entire room, looking completely in control of everything around her. She made no secret of her apparent desire to the tall man, who wasn't doing a great job at concealing how his eyes dropped down to the v-line of her dress every few seconds.
"Claire, do you know him?"
"No," she answered, feeling a little numb, internally confirming every suspicion she'd ever had about Natasha being straight. "Must be her boyfriend or something."
"Guess she is straight," Jake muttered.
Claire felt a little numb. Whereas she'd always been unsure of whether Natasha was flirting with her, the intent in her eyes was unmistakable in this case.
Natasha took the martini from the man's hand and lifted it to her mouth, draining every last sip. She took the toothpick speared with olives in two fingers, slid the olives off with her teeth, and chewed slowly, her eye contact never faltering. The man was saying something to her, leaning in close. Taking hold of his elbow again, Natasha led the tall man to a table in a dark corner of the bar, out of Claire's sight.
Claire felt a stab of jealousy, along with a sense of betrayal, which was completely ridiculous, because Natasha wasn't hers. She was free to do whatever she pleased with her time. Why should Claire care if she decided to spend it on tall, handsome men who wore thousand-dollar suits like they were everyday clothing?
"Claire."
Claire blinked, just registering that she'd been asked a question. The entire table was looking at her expectantly— even Alejandro and Benji had paused eating each other's faces.
"Jake just bet me two drinks I couldn't beat him at a game of darts," Tessa said. "Want to wager?"
Claire joined in on the fun, letting herself be distracted as they made their way over to the dartboard in various stages of drunkenness. She refused to let her gaze wander to the table at the dark corner, even though it felt like there was a gravitational pull drawing her towards it.
Eventually, her resolve crumbled and she had to have a quick glance. She caught sight of a bright yellow sundress on a woman who was decidedly not Natasha. Did they leave already? Before she could stop herself, her eyes swung over the bar, searching for Natasha. She looked over to the exit, catching a flash of red hair, and saw Natasha leading the tall man out of the door, their bodies flush with each other.
Where were they going?
It was a stupid question. Claire knew where they were going. Her chest felt heavy, her stomach knotted with disappointment. As soon as they came, she pushed those feelings away. She had no right to feel this way.
She forced her mind back on the dart game, cheering on Tessa as she ended up beating Jake to no one's surprise. Still complaining about the unfairness of it all, Jake bought them all another round of drinks. They ended up back at the booth, stumbling more than they'd been before.
Claire reached for the bourbon sitting by her hand, swirling the amber liquid around in the glass, her gaze fixed unseeingly on a spot on the table. Tessa and Jake had started a slightly slurred conversation about pierogies, but Claire barely heard them. She lifted the drink to her lips and downed it in one go, deciding that maybe she'd get a little drunk tonight after all.
OooOOh what do you think will happen next?
Thanks to those who reviewed! Here are some responses to guest reviews since I can't reply to you guys via PMs :(
Guest: haha so true
liv: dw they will ;)
Holly: yes Nat is a jealous bitch and we are here for it. This isn't an AU, Natasha is still an Avenger but some things will be slightly different. You'll see. Thanks for the review!
Broke NY Bitch: oh no that's fine! thanks for the long review I live for those! Yes! Serena did show up in this chapter, and there will def be more dRaMa. possibly next chapter. I am a girl, dw, my pronouns are she/her. Thanks for asking tho! Sorry I haven't been updating as frequently, I actually broke my arm so typing was kinda a pain.