"Natasha, this playlist is three hours long," Steve said in disbelief as he scrolled through the list of songs on her phone.
"And we have a six-hour drive ahead of us," She looked over at him in the passenger's seat and smiled. "Besides, that playlist was carefully curated specifically for this trip."
When he turned to look at Natasha, his expression was deadpan, "It's all Taylor Swift."
"Correct," a smile still played on Nat's lips as she turned her attention back to the road. They'd been in the car all of 15 minutes before she pulled up the playlist that she'd spent more than an hour putting together the night before. "Your re-education begins now, Rogers."
It's not that Steve disliked Taylor Swift, but after two solid years of Nat and Sam arguing over which album they should play at any given moment, he'd be fine never having to hear her music again.
He popped the phone into a mount on the dashboard and hit play, "All right, but I get to pick the music on the way home."
Natasha snickered, "I guess that means you're driving, then, unless you want me to fall asleep at the wheel."
"You're hilarious," Steve said, trying and failing to sound annoyed. He was anything but annoyed. He reveled in these moments they had together, where they could just be. For years, moments like this one were so few and far between that it was sometimes jarring to remember their lives had become kind of normal. Whether it would stay that way was to be determined.
"Just keep listening," she implored. "I promise you'll like it."
So, he did. Some of the songs Steve knew, though he hadn't paid much attention to the meaning of the lyrics until now. One called "Daylight" caught his attention.
He reached over to turn the volume up a few notches after the first chorus played, which didn't go unnoticed by Natasha. She reached across the center console and laced her fingers with Steve's, and he brought her hand up and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.
"I like this one, too," she said, singing along softly.
When the song ended, Natasha reached up and flipped through the playlist until she found the song she was looking for. As soon as it began to play, Steve laughed, remembering all the times she'd played it over the years and how he knew it was directed toward him, even if she never admitted it.
"Really?"
Natasha shrugged, "What? You are gorgeous."
Steve shook his head in amusement, "You're going soft, Romanoff."
"Only when it comes to you," she quipped.
Steve rubbed his thumb in circles against the back of her hand, "Don't let the bad guys hear you say that."
"What bad guys?" she said with a wry expression. "This is the first real break we've had in years… The blip doesn't count.
"Don't jinx it," Steve said, squeezing her hand. They both knew by now that anything could happen at any time.
They arrived in Ohio just after 3 p.m., and Natasha was surprised to see almost no snow on the ground and the sun peeking out from the clouds, despite the frigid January temperatures. It was a far cry from the several inches of snow they'd left behind in New York.
When they pulled up to the small, single-story brick house, Yelena was waiting in the driveway with a hunter green puffy coat pulled tightly around her small frame. Her expression was blank.
Natasha looked out the window at her sister then back at Steve, who was worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. "Don't be nervous."
Steve pulled his eyes away from the blonde woman in the driveway to look at the redhead beside him. Her warm smile made him feel a bit calmer. "I'm not nervous."
Natasha knew Steve well enough to know when he was anxious. Usually, it happened when they were in the middle of dealing with some sort of major threat, so the fact that meeting her sister made him nervous was endearing. "I promise, she'll love you."
"I seem to remember you telling me, several times, that Yelena doesn't love just anyone, or trust them, for that matter," Steve said, arching an eyebrow at Natasha.
"Ok, you've got a point," she resisted the urge to tease him, and instead, leaned in for a kiss. Steve's lips were warm against hers, and she had to remind herself that they were sitting in a car with her baby sister 15 feet away.
A loud knock on the window jolted the pair apart. "Are you two coming, or am I going to have to stand here all day freezing my ass off?"
Natasha looked over Steve's shoulder to see Yelena standing outside his window with her hands on her hips. She nodded toward the house, "All right, Rogers, let's do this."
Steve swallowed hard and pushed the door open, surprised when Yelena only took a few small steps back, allowing him very little space to get out of the car. She was about the same height as Natasha, making Steve nearly a foot taller. But what Yelena lacked in stature, she made up for in confidence and attitude.
"Hello, Steve Rogers," she said, narrowing her eyes at Steve for a moment before holding her hand out to him.
He glanced over his shoulder briefly, to see Natasha leaned against the side of the car with a smirk on her face, then back at Yelena who was still unsmiling.
Steve accepted her handshake with a tentative smile, "Yelena."
A wide grin spread across Yelena's face, and she laughed, looking past him to Natasha, "You were right. This one is so serious."
After another second, Steve realized she'd been messing with him, and the ball of nerves in the pit of his stomach unraveled. "I see you've got your sister's sense of humor."
"You didn't tell me he was sassy, too," she cocked her head to the side and gave him a crooked smile. "All right, Steve Rogers, you can stay."
Natasha came around to their side of the car, pulling Yelena into a tight hug, "I told you to be nice."
"Oh, come on Nat, he can take it," Yelena shrugged and looked up at Steve. "You can take it, right?"
"I've known your sister for almost 12 years, I can definitely take it," he said, winking at Natasha. "Why don't you guys go inside, and I'll grab the bags."
Natasha draped an arm around Yelena's shoulder, and she returned the gesture by winding her arm around Nat's back, leading them into the house. Once inside, Yelena glanced back at Steve who was pulling two small suitcases and a backpack from the trunk of the car.
"So, that's him?" she asked, nodding toward Steve.
Nat looked out the window and smiled, the feeling of butterflies suddenly fluttered in her gut. Is this what it was like for normal people to introduce their family to their significant other?
"That's him."
"I like him," Yelena said, turning her attention back toward Natasha. "He seems nice."
She trailed off with a mischievous look in her eye, and Natasha was certain she knew what was about to come out of Yelena's mouth next, "Plus, he's freaking gorgeous. I mean, my God Natasha, could you have picked a more beautiful man? I can see why Alexei wouldn't shut up about him…"
"You know Alexei never actually fought Captain America, right?"
"Whatever, my point is, Steve Rogers is hot!"
Yelena was midway through her rant when the door opened, and Steve walked in with their luggage. "I hope I'm not interrupting," he said, afraid she'd feel uncomfortable that he overheard her playful objectification.
When she turned to face him, the blush he expected to see on her face wasn't there, but that same smirk Natasha always wore was. Apparently, Yelena Belova had even less shame than her older sister.
"Does anything embarrass either of you, ever?" Steve asked, though he suspected he already knew the answer.
"No," they said in unison, looking at one another then back at Steve.
After they settled in, Natasha and Yelena ran out to pick up dinner, and Steve decided to look around the house. Though it was small, it seemed perfect for just one person. For some reason, he expected Yelena's place to be crisp and modern, but instead he found the space to be warm and inviting.
The inside had been remade with light wood floors throughout. The living room was painted a warm green shade, and Yelena's furniture looked like it had either been thrifted or reupholstered to appear vintage. Everything was mismatched, yet still managed to look cohesive. Similar warm-toned paint colors tied each room of the house together.
Save for a mirror on the wall next to the front door and a tapestry behind the sofa that Steve suspected was authentic and from a far-away country, the only décor were photos. Frames of all shapes and sizes hung on the walls and lined a bookshelf and the fireplace mantle. Steve approached the mantle first looking at each photo.
Natasha and Yelena hadn't been in touch for years before they took down the Red Room, so he knew the newer ones, at least, had to have been taken during that week in 2016. Most of them, however, were much older. One caught his eye, and he picked up the carved wooden frame to examine it closer. They were children, standing the in front yard outside a house much like the one he was standing in currently. Natasha's arm was slung around Yelena's waist, and she was hunched over slightly, so Yelena could reach her much smaller arm up and around Nat's shoulders. Her hair was short, barely reaching past her chin, and it was dyed blue with about an inch of red roots peeking out. They both wore wide grins, devoid of anything other than pure joy.
He turned the frame over and written on the back was, "Natalia, age 11, and Yelena, age 6 – 1995". Nat had told Steve about her childhood, about the three years in Ohio with Yelena, Alexei and Melina, but he'd never seen photos. Looking at this one, you'd never know their family was a cover.
Steve set the frame back in its place just as the garage door opened. A minute later Natasha and Yelena walked through the side door carrying a massive pizza and two six-packs of beer. He swiped the pizza from Nat's hands and leaned down to kiss her.
"Oh, gross," Yelena said, making a gagging noise. "And right before we eat?"
"An hour ago, you were talking about what a specimen he is," Natasha rolled her eyes and leaned into Steve again for another kiss.
"I didn't use the word specimen," Yelena said, putting her hands on her hips. "That would be weird. I said he's hot, which is true. He is."
"He is standing right here," Steve said, playfully poking Nat in the ribcage.
She slid to the side before he could poke her again and looked up at him, "You know who she sounds like, though."
Steve laughed and shook his head, "Sam."
"Which one is Sam?" Yelena asked, taking a bite from the slice of cheese and pepperoni she'd pulled from the box that was still in Steve's hand. "Is that the brainwashed one who tried to kill you both a bunch of times?"
"No, that's Bucky, Steve's childhood bestie who's also a 106-year-old super solider," Nat said popping the cap from her beer and taking a sip. "Sam's the one we almost got killed when we roped him into helping us take down Hydra a few years ago."
Steve set the pizza down on the table and crossed his arms over his chest, letting out an exasperated sigh. Natasha turned to look at him, quirking an eyebrow, "What? Is that not an accurate description of those two."
He opened his mouth to argue and immediately closed it, "Ok, fine. That's… accurate."
Yelena laughed and passed a beer to Steve, "Drink up Steve Rogers. This is gonna be fun."
"Ah, Nat didn't tell you I can't get drunk, did she?"
"That sounds like a challenge to me," Yelena said, walking into the kitchen. They heard a few cabinets open and close before she returned holding two bottles of vodka and three glasses.
"No, really, he can't get drunk. Believe me. We've all tried," Natasha took one of the bottles from her sister and examined the label, "Beluga. I'm impressed."
"Please, Natasha, you know I can't stomach the stuff Americans try to pass for vodka," Yelena said, pouring the clear liquid into each of the glasses. They settled into the living room, Yelena in an oversized upholstered chair and Nat and Steve across from her on the sofa.
Nat grabbed a glass and handed it to Steve before taking one for herself. Her eyes lingered on him as he listened intently to Yelena's diatribe about why Russian vodka was superior. He had the patience of a saint and was taking all of this in stride, and she loved him for it.
"All right, all right, enough of that," Natasha leaned into Steve, then waved her hand in front of Yelena's face to get her attention. "I think we should toast."
"To what?" Steve asked, draping an arm across Nat's shoulder.
She looked up at him and smiled then looked to Yelena who was sitting forward in her chair, "Your house. Your toast."
A smile spread across Yelena's face, and she nodded at Natasha before looking Steve in the eyes, "To family."
Natasha's smile grew, and she could tell by the way Steve tightened his arm around her that Yelena's words felt heavy with meaning. The three of them clinked their glasses together, and from next to her Natasha heard Steve whisper, "To family."
End Notes:
I actually did make a playlist in preparation for this chapter. It's on Spotify, and it's called "Natasha makes Steve a Taylor Swift playlist".
Only one chapter and the prologue to go! As Dr. Stephen Strange would say, "We're in the endgame now."