Bruce insisted on cooking for the entire team the following evening. It was a congratulatory meal, of sorts, for successfully bringing Vision home.

Nat slid in next to Steve who was sitting on a bench at the large rectangular table on the back patio. Looking around the backyard, she couldn't help but grin at the scene in front of her.

Morgan was chasing Peter, shooting imaginary webs at him and laughing hysterically when he pretended to be stuck in one; Tony and Pepper sat together in a chair in the corner of the deck watching them with relaxed smiles; Sam, Steve and Rhodey were teasing Bucky about the cute nurse whose phone number he'd gotten while vising Tony in the hospital; Wanda was floating place settings to the table and refilling drinks; and Bruce was in the kitchen with Thor, attempting to teach him to make a salad.

It was all so domestic and normal. Natasha took a sip of her red wine and rested her head on Steve's shoulder. He brought an arm up to wrap around her shoulder, pulling her tighter to him.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"It's been such a long time since we've all been together like this, you know?" Her chest clenched. She was quiet for a beat before she spoke again, "Clint should be here."

"I know. I know how much you miss him," Steve shifted, gently nudging Natasha's face up toward him with his shoulder. She tilted her chin up, silently asking him to kiss her, and he, of course, complied. "Laura's sure she doesn't want to have a service for him?"

"She's sure. Not being able to bury him has been really hard for her and the kids." Nat sighed, reaching for the small, silver arrow necklace she'd been wearing for years. "We had a little memorial for him at the house while I was there. It was nice."

Steve pressed another kiss to her lips, "We'll get through this, Nat."

She nodded at him, knowing he was right, though for now it felt like she was walking around with a permanent hole in her chest. Their conversation was cut short by Bruce and Thor stepping onto the deck with more food than the lot of them could consume.

"Chow time!" Bruce called, setting a tray of braised lamb chops onto the table with an exaggerated flourish. He stepped to the side, allowing Thor to present his very basic salad.

"Now don't everybody fight over this magnificent lettuce dish," he said, with a proud smile as he put a big wooden bowl full of greens down. "There's more than enough to go around."

The group looked around at one another then back at Thor, realizing all at once that this was probably the first time in his life that he'd made anything even resembling a meal. None of them could hold back the absurdity of it, laughing until tears were streaming down their faces.

And then all at once they were digging into the spread in front of them – In addition to the lamb chops, Bruce had made roasted red skin potatoes, corn on the cob, steak and balsamic-glazed brussels sprouts. Natasha couldn't remember the last time any of them had eaten like this.

"All right, everyone, eyes on me," Tony said loudly, above the various conversations happening around the table. "I propose a toast."

He looked around the table as everyone raised their drinks, "To Bruce, for preparing this ridiculously over the top meal for us tonight. Thank you, buddy. We're all so glad you spent your blip years learning how to cook."

"Hear, hear," Rhodey called out, and they clinked their glasses together.

Bruce bowed his head in thanks and raised his glass again, "And to Clint and Vision."

Natasha's stomach twisted. She glanced across the table at Wanda and saw tears shining in her eyes.

"They died heroes so we could live," Bruce continued. "There are truly no words to express how grateful we are for their sacrifice or how much they are missed."

This time they lifted their glasses in silence, holding them in the air for a several seconds. Steve squeezed Nat's hand next to him and finally said, "To Clint and Vision."

Tony and Pepper left around 10:30 p.m., with Peter in tow, Morgan asleep and slung over his shoulder. Wanda excused herself a short time later, wanting to be alone. The rest of them topped off their drinks and headed inside to the large study. By midnight most of them – super soldiers, Asgardians and Hulks not included – were fairly drunk.

"Wait, wait, wait," Sam said, his words slurring together slightly as he took another sip from his whiskey and Coke. "You mean to tell me this guy used to smile?"

Sam was holding a photo of Bucky and Steve from 1938, barely 20 years old and before either joined the Army. The pair smiled broadly with their arms slung lazily over one another's shoulders.

"Did you have to bust out the old photos, Steve?" Bucky shot Steve an unamused side-eyed, which only spurred Sam on.

"That guy? The one who only makes that face right there?" Sam said, pointing at the annoyed look on Bucky's face, then slouched back in his armchair in a fit of drunken giggles. "Nope. No way. I don't buy it. It's photoshopped. It has to be."

A pillow sailed across the room, hitting Sam square in the chest. His drink sloshed out of the glass and onto the front of his shirt. He looked up, wide-eyed, to see Bucky grinning ear-to-ear.

"See, I smile."

Natasha buried her face into the crook of Steve's neck and tried to get a grip on herself, as Steve's body shook with laughter next to her.

"Fill me up," she said, holding her wine glass out to Bruce who obliged. "Ok, how about a game?"

"Oh, I love games! Just as long as they don't involve snakes," Thor said, and Bruce snickered to himself, remembering the story about Loki tricking him when they were children by turning into a snake.

Natasha took a drink from her wine and gave Thor a once over. She was floored at how quickly the weight he'd gained was melting away. It had been two weeks since he decided to stop drinking and started working out again, and he was already close to his former God-like form.

"Friggin' Asgardian genetics," she mumbled under her breath. "Ok, ok. Truth or Dare? Or Marry, Fuck, Kill?"

Sam snort-laughed into what was left of his drink, "Definitely, marry, fuck, kill."

This earned a groan from both Bucky and Steve.

"Don't worry, no one would kill either of you," Natasha said, sending a wink in Bucky's direction. "You're too pretty."

"He might," he said, pointing at Sam.

"Oh, I definitely would," Sam said, shaking his head empathically.

Steve leaned close to Natasha's ear so only she could hear him, "You're such a troublemaker."

"Oh, Rogers, you have no idea," she said, giving him a devious grin and turning her head to plant a kiss on his lips.

"God, come on. Do you two have to do that every time I'm in the room?"

Another pillow, this time thrown by Steve, hit Sam in the chest.

"Wilson, you're up first," Natasha said, leaning forward on the sofa. "Fuck, Marry, Kill: Secretary Ross, Loki or Nick Fury."

Sam stroked his pointer finger and thumb along his goatee, as if he was deep in thought, "Hmm. Well, I've never met Loki, but he's a good-looking dude, so I'd fuck him. Kill Ross. Marry Fury."

Natasha shrugged, "I mean, weird horned tiara thing and propensity for murder aside, Loki is kinda hot."

Thor choked on air at Natasha's comment, "That is… more information than I needed to know about my brother."

"All right, Cap, you're up," Sam said, refilling his bourbon. "Me, Banner, Sharon."

Steve blanched and looked over at Natasha, hoping for an out, but she offered nothing but a hand to her mouth in an attempt to stop from laughing harder.

"Hey, I'm the one who told you to date Sharon back in the day," she said, patting him on the knee.

"Fine. Marry Banner, sleep with Sharon, kill you," he said, pointing to Sam. Steve's face burned red, and when he looked over, he saw that under the green of his skin, Bruce's did, too. This produced another fit of giggles from Natasha, Sam, Rhodey, Thor and Bucky.

"Oh, you think that's funny, Romanoff?" Steve said, playfully poking her in the ribs. "I guess it's your turn then."

She clamped her mouth shut, swallowing the laughter that threatened to bubble out, "Be nice."

"Tony, Happy or Hill?" Steve said, sitting back with a triumphant smile.

Natasha rolled her eyes, "That's easy. RIP, Happy. Fuck Tony. Marry Maria."

"Oh, damn!" Rhodey said, nodding emphatically. "You better lock that woman down, Rogers. She knows what's up."

"And on that note, I'm going to bed," Natasha stood and stretched, pulling Steve to his feet.

"Gentlemen," Steve said, wrapping an arm around Nat's waist as they exited the room. "I guess I'm going to bed too."

Steve could hear the continued banter echo from the study and into the darkened hallway as they headed toward Nat's room. He stopped and pulled her into him, pressing her back up against the wall.

"Someone's feeling a little territorial," she quipped, as his face hovered just inches from hers. "Don't like the thought of me with Tony? Or was it Hill who made you a little jealous."

Steve leaned closer, resting his forearms against the wall on either side of her head. He smirked, "Definitely Hill. Insanely jealous."

Natasha rolled her eyes, and her lip quirked up on one side, "Well, I don't exactly love the idea of you and Banner, Steve."

"As tempting as that is, I've got exactly what I need right here," he said, continuing to play along. Natashas's pupils blew wide, and it was all the permission Steve needed to close the space between them. Her kiss was hungry, and he met it with a neediness of his own.

Not wanting to be interrupted again, Steve lifted her off the floor, wrapping her legs around his waist, and carried her into her room, dropping her onto the bed. Natasha's back had barely hit the comforter before she was pulling Steve's sweater up over his head, her shirt following right behind it. She scraped her nails over his chest, and he groaned into her neck, leaning down to pepper kisses there.

"How drunk are you, Nat?" Steve asked, pulling back slightly to look her in the eyes.

She smiled up at Steve. Here she was, willingly laid out for him, and he was concerned about not taking advantage of her in an altered state of mind. "Not nearly as drunk as I let everyone think."

Steve studied her face for a moment before capturing her lips with his again. Her fingers found their way into his hair, gripping roughly at the dirty blonde strands while he trailed opened-mouthed kisses along her neck, to her collarbone and down the valley between her breasts, stopping to nip at a sensitive area along her hipbones.

Natasha shifted underneath him, wanting him closer. She reached down and pulled him back up her body, the weight and warmth of him enveloped her like a blanket.

"This, right here," she thought. "I could do this all day."

Steve watched Natasha from the corner of his eye as they sat together on the front porch swing. The October morning air was cool, and she was wrapped in a blanket and leaned into his side, sipping her coffee. It was the type of moment Steve never realized he'd longed for until just then.

The breeze blew a few strands of her hair into his face, and he brushed them back, sweeping her long hair off her shoulders. She hummed in contentment against him, neither of them willing to break the comfortable silence.

But there was something Steve need to tell her, and he didn't want to wait any longer.

"Hey," he whispered against her hair, kissing her temple. She shifted and smiled up at him. Her green eyes were bright in the early morning sunlight. "There's something I need to talk to you about."

Natasha tensed, and Steve knew she was expecting bad news to follow. He smiled softly at her, "It's nothing bad. I promise."

She raised a skeptical eyebrow, "Go on."

"I think it's time for me to hang it up," Steve said, scrubbing a hand across the back of his neck. "The shield, I mean."

This was obviously not what Natasha was expecting, and she jerked her body around to face him. "What?"

"I've been thinking about this for a while, since we decided to go after the stones, actually," he said, taking her hands in his. "I've gone from one fight to the next since coming out of the ice, and I wouldn't change any of that, but I feel like, for the first time, I have something worth stopping for."

Natasha swallowed hard and nodded for Steve to continue. She'd never considered that he might want to stop. It was all he knew. Hell, it was all either of them knew.

"I'm going to ask Sam to take the shield."

"Steve…" Natasha studied his ocean blue eyes for any sign of hesitation and found none. She'd never been prouder of the man sitting next to her as she was in that moment. "Have you told anyone else?"

"I talked to Bucky and Tony yesterday, and they're both on board," he said, pausing for a second before asking, "How do you feel about it?"

Natasha took his face in her hands, and a wide smile played across her face, "Is this what you want, Steve? Will it make you happy?"

He swallowed a lump in his throat. The way she looked at him, full of love and trust and vulnerability, it was the way he always wanted her to look at him. "It is. It will."

"Then you have my absolute support."

Steve kissed Natasha hard, then pulled her into a tight hug, "Thank you."

"I love you, Rogers," she replied, nuzzling into him.

The warmth of her body seeped into Steve's bones. He turned his face into her hair and inhaled deeply – vanilla, honey, coconut. "You know I love you, too, Romanoff."

Steve didn't need the shield. He didn't need the fight. All he needed was right there beside him.