Author Note: So this fic started as the plot bunny "Steve/Nat have Tony's Endgame storyline in that they get married, purchase a cabin in the woods and have a baby" but we were approaching 4,000 words and they literally had not moved from the dining room, let alone into the woods. SO with that in mind this might become a series of connected oneshots, who knows?

Also I talk about milkshakes a lot in here. That particular plot device was used in another fic on AO3 that it bloody amazing. I'll try and link it here when I find it again (if you know the one I'm talking about, let me know!)

The colour orange began seeping through the blinds and flooding the dining-room-turned-office. She already had an office here, of course, but the work seemed to follow Natasha no matter which room she found herself in. Right now, the orange from the incoming dusk was illuminating her work files, reflecting back familiar faces that she hadn't seen in a while. Had she been more of whimsical person, she might have assumed that the universe was taunting her; reminding her of her failure – or, as Steve would correct her, their failure to bring them back.

She didn't know when they had become family to her; when Sam had gone from a man whose apartment she'd crashed into that one time to the friend who teased her relentlessly with that bird device of his. Red wing, that's what he had called it. She also wondered how Sokovia's answer to Sabrina the Teenage Witch had become an almost younger sister of sorts. Perhaps she should have seen that latter one coming: from day dot, the younger Maximoff twin had had the sisterly-habit of borrowing Natasha's clothes. If it had been any other woman wearing her clothes, she may have said something. But anyone who knew Wanda would know that this was her way of connecting with people, with Natasha especially. When she'd mess up on a mission, Natasha would find her buried in the Spy's maroon sweater. She had interpreted that as her way of apologising, not that there was any need for that most of the time. Likewise, when Wanda had done especially well in training; or if she was simply having a good day, she could be found wearing Natasha's red leather jacket. Wanda would dress like her when she felt she most belonged with them, this pseudo-family of sorts. Natasha would have been flattered, but that particular leather jacket had looked so much better on Wanda that she had ended up just gifting it to the younger witch last Christmas. In almost a cruel twist of fate, the jacket had disappeared with Wanda and the Snap too. She could really use that jacket right now. Like how she could really use her team – because whether it was on purpose or not, gradual or sudden, they had become family to her too.

Wanda's eyes were following her movements now. She quickly closed the file, using more force than necessary as the coffee table rattled in response. Natasha: 1, File: 0. She had had enough of ghosts for one night.

"Glad I'm not that file"

For a world-class spy, Natasha jumped at the familiar sound of a thick Brooklyn accent. Green eyes met blue as she turned to come face-to-face with none other than Steve Rogers. He was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and wearing an amused look that just screamed 'got you'. She gave him a quick glare in response before settling back on the couch, non-verbally communicating with him to come in.

"You know, I don't know much about the 1940s save some questionable clothing on your part, but I'm pretty sure that the custom of announcing one's arrival beforehand was still a thing."

Steve chuckled, unfolding his arms and making a move towards the armchair opposite her. His face was highlighted by the same orange light her files had been, except unlike her files, it gave him a more flattering glow. It also allowed her to appreciate the stubble that had been slowly growing back these last couple of weeks. Natasha would never admit it, but the beard he had grown when they had been on the run definitely did things to her. She had been slightly gutted when he had shaved it after their doomed mission to the Garden. Back then, those feelings had been overshadowed by other, more pressing emotions but, standing opposite him today, she couldn't deny how happy it made her to see it growing back.

She hadn't realised she had been staring until he called her out on it. "Sam used to tell me how much you liked the beard. Didn't believe him 'till now".

She smirked. "Sam knew women."

"That he did," Steve bristled, settling more into the armchair that had inadvertently become his over the course of the last four months. "The super soldier serum helped me with a lot, but it didn't improve my skillset on that particular front".

"Hmm, I don't know Rogers. A little bird told me that a certain nurse-turned-spy we both know would argue otherwise"

He blushed, just as she knew he would. "So, we've established two things tonight; Sam knows women and Sam has a mouth".

"Had".

"Natasha".

"Steve," she parroted, knowing it to be childish but doing it anyway. Sighing, Steve launched himself from the armchair and grabbed the files from the coffee table and put them to one side. She was about to protest his actions, but his eyes implored to her to let his one be. So, she did.

"Pepper's pregnant"

Now, whatever she had been expecting to come out of his mouth next, it certainly wasn't that.

"How'd you know? Stark added you back on the email chain?"

"What, the old 'Avenger HQ: Have I Got News for You' chat? Thought that died with Jarvis"

"Nope," She replied, popping the 'p', "Tony had you removed after you forwarded chain mail for the third time."

"Oh," he blushed again, scratching his neck awkwardly, "in my defence, Clint forwarded them to me first"

"And he would chuckle to himself every time you fell for it," She smiled, throwing him a wink, "I would have let you know it was him, you know, if you hadn't had fallen for that second one. Super soldier brain my ass".

"There were puppies on the line, Natasha" He sternly reminded her, although his eyes gave away his teasing. He moved closer to her, moving to her side. She was about to question his intentions before he launched himself back again, only this time having grabbed the half-empty bottle of wine that she had neatly tucked into her side. He was frowning. Natasha knew she'd been drinking too much recently. And, based on his own frown, she knew that he knew that too. She watched as he internally fought with himself to call her out on it, ultimately deciding not to. He'd let her off tonight.

Or not.

"You've been drinking more than usual"

Damn, she really was out of touch reading people.

"I'm Russian," She answered back, lifting an eyebrow, "alcohol doesn't faze me that much. And I'm not sure you should be lecturing me all that much, considering there's a flask of Thor's Magic Alcohol potion shit in the corner that's a lot lighter than I remember it".

"Touché. But you're still drinking too much"

"Cheers to that Captain"

"With what? I stole your drink" He smirked back, obnoxiously waving her bottle back to her as he did.

"Touché, Rogers," she grumbled, sinking even further into her chair, "touché."

Steve walked towards the kitchen sink. "I didn't find out from Tony"

"Wait, what?"

"Pepper's pregnancy." Steve replied, pouring the last of her expensive fucking wine into the sink. Jerk. "I found out because she came to see me at our Blip support group".

Now that made her blink. "She sought you out?". Yet, as the words left her mouth, Natasha quickly figured that Pepper would be the one to extend an olive branch. She didn't have much love for the Avengers par some cordial greetings here and there; Natasha couldn't blame her, given that she had almost lost Tony twice from their dealings. But, despite her misgivings, Pepper would let the world burn before someone dare call her impolite. Especially Captain freaking America, even if her husband and the ex-solder had some bad blood.

It was like Steve could read her mind as he gave her an affirmative nod and elaborated. "Yeah, she showed up this evening with one hand waving and the other clutching a picture of their most recent ultrasound. They both think it's a girl, although she's firmly drawn a line in the sand at Tony's favourite baby name".

"Antonia Jr?"

"The very one" He grinned, and Natasha couldn't help but grin back, "Pepper likes the sound of Betty or Megan. Or maybe it was Morgan? I don't know, I was still pretty dazed by the fact they were even expecting at that point. She just wanted me- for us, to know. That's what he, uh, Tony, wants too. According to Pepper, anyway".

"Oh". She didn't know what to say to that. Didn't stop her from running her mouth anyway though. "Guess they got what they wanted in the end then. Their happy ever after". The words tasted bitter in her mouth and she hated herself for it. She was happy for Tony. And Pepper. Truly. Those two went through hell on earth (and beyond) just to find one another again. But that didn't stop her from feeling sad. Yeah, she was sad. Sad she had to learn it from Steve. Sad that she- no, she wouldn't go there tonight. Guess this is what they mean by bittersweet, Natasha thought. Her eyes burned holes into the ground, her fingers playing with her hair as she could hear him sigh softly and make his way back towards her. In a couple of seconds, Steve was on his knees, his hands resting on hers. Natasha brought her eyes back to his.

"I know, I sound bitter. Hit me with the speech, Cap". Natasha resisted the urge to rest her forehead against his. He was close. Very close.

"I think that we both know that the time for one of my hope-filled speeches is over, Nat" He sighed, "But if I was going to give you one, it would definitely mention the fact you never leave this place"

"Untrue. I leave this place"

"Trailing leads that go nowhere doesn't count, Nat."

Ouch.

"I'm talking about leaving here and, I don't know, grabbing a milkshake".

"You know, if you just wanted to ask me out, you could have done so without telling me how much I suck first"

He let out yet another exasperated sigh, although she could hear the laugh behind it "That's not what I meant, and you know it"

"Could have just said you wanted us to get a milkshake, Rogers"

"Nat"

"Or catch a movie. You know, those moving pictures things. In colour, not the grey scale that you're used to"

"We had coloured movies in the 40s"

"Ah, but did you have Leonardo DiCaprio?"

"You could come to my support group" He jumped in, ignoring her. Now it was her turn to sigh. Here we go again, she thought. "Hear me out, Nat. It's just a place where we go and talk about the people we miss. It helps. It helps you process and-"

"Talking about them won't bring them back. This work, my work, it could-"

He jumped in again, this time grabbing her hands into his. "I understand why you want to continue doing this. I do, really, I do. And I will continue to support you, support this, in any way I can. But it's been four months Nat and you have not left this building. I think Tony sees it too, and that's why Pepper came to see me today. They're worried about you, like I'm worried about you"

She scoffed at that but didn't remove her hands from his. "Yeah, well you first"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard, Steve." She dug her hands a little in his, "You're telling me to get a life? In case I'm mistaken, you also live here." She should stop. "And the only time I see you leave this building, is when you go to that support group of yours." Stop speaking, Natasha. "Trading ghost stories like that will do anything to bring Sam, Wanda or any of them back." Her vision was getting glassy. And for the second time tonight, she was regretting speaking at all. So much for the cool, calm and collected Black Widow. The KGB would have had a field day with this one.

He surprised her by bridging the gap between their foreheads, pressing his against hers. And not for the first time in her life, Natasha wondered if the super soldier serum had a mind control element to it as she found her body relaxing at his touch, letting out a breath she hadn't realised she had been holding. No, she was certain now. Erskine definitely added more to the bottled serum than he had let SHIELD know about. That, or Steve Rogers' touch was simply magic.

Specifically, magic over her. But that was another conversation she wasn't having with herself tonight.

"Yeah, I've thought about getting one too." Steve spoke, interrupting her thoughts.

"What?"

"A life, I mean," He was playing with her hands now, small smile on his face, "There's a place. In Brooklyn, near where I grew up. Same apartment building, actually. Used to hate the idea of going back. To be surrounded by ghosts. You're not wrong about that. Not that you ever are, really".

She kept quiet, silently edging him to go on, but also fearing where this was going to go next "But, I figured recently that I'm always going to be surrounded by ghosts. In this line of work, especially. Doesn't mean I should stop living though. Tony may not have worded it in the best way when he quit, but he wasn't wrong about that part." He really was starting to smile now. "And he's happy. I mean, Iron Man has a wife and kid on the way." She didn't know what to say. He continued, forehead still on hers. "And you should visit the donut shop by this new place, Nat. Best servings back in '45, still the best now".

"You're leaving?"

Natasha abruptly removed her forehead from his and searched his eyes for an answer. In theme with everything else she had said tonight, she hadn't meant that for that question to be the first thing to come out of her mouth. She blamed it on the wine, and quickly rehearsed excusing herself on that account, although it was a feeble excuse at best. She didn't regret saying it though. Even though they both knew what she had meant to say hadn't quite made it passed her lips.

You're leaving me?

She knew that he knew.

His eyes widened and he quickly shook his head. She was so relieved she almost missed his babbling. "No, no Nat! I'm not. Not yet anyway."

"Not yet? You either are or you are not, Rogers".

Steve put his arm behind his neck again, a tick he had had for as long as she had known him. He's nervous. Good. If this asshole really was leaving her, she would not be making it any easier for him.

God, she really was a mess.

"I'm not leaving without you Natasha, ever" Steve spoke, words mumbling slightly, "I promised to be here for you and I will always honour that. Always. But, maybe, and this is a big maybe, you might want to consider, at some point and, again, I'm not trying to force the decision on you-".

"Spit it out Steve"

He smiled. She had gone back to using Steve. Softie. "Would you consider coming with me? To Brooklyn, I mean. The flat is big enough for two. You'd like it there, I know you would. And those donuts Nat-"

"Steve you're babbling again"

"And you're avoiding giving me an answer" He countered. He brought his hands to her thighs, gently resting them there. With any other man, Natasha would have assumed they were trying to cop a feel. But not her Steve. Not if by the way he quickly realised he had gone slightly further up her body than he had intended and hastily scrambled to remove them was any indication. She smirked. At least this was a game she knew. The conversation, however, was unchartered territory.

She could be honest though. She could. She owed him at least that. "Steve I -, I don't know. I mean, who else would do all this?" She waved her hands around the room, pointing out the folder he had swept away earlier and the laptop in the corner where her latest email from a raccoon read. "Who does this, except us? Except me?" Her voice was wavering now, but she could just about hold it together. "I can't just leave them, I can't".

Steve smiled sadly as if he knew that would be her answer. He'd gotten good at reading people, at reading her. She should know. She was the one who taught him, after all.

"I know," He said, affirming her suspicions "I'm still going to keep asking you though, you know that right? From now on, every Saturday, I'll ask you".

"It'll be a no, Steve"

"I'll keep asking Nat. You deserve a life. We both do."

"You could have one, you know?" Natasha hated herself for suggesting it. But they both knew it was an option, a good option at that. "You could go on your own Steve. Go to Brooklyn. Grab those donuts you've mentioned a dozen times." She took what she hoped was not an audible gulp before continuing. "You could find your own Pepper. Have your own Betty, Megan or Morgan" She gave him a sad smirk. "Or Antonia Jr."

"Not a chance"

"Steve-"

"Not happening, Romanoff"

"Oh, it's Romanoff now, is it?"

"You and me. That's non-negotiable" Steve affirmed, nodding his head as if to emphasise his point. He looked kind of cute as he did it, but his face was stern. He was being dead serious. They weren't separate people to him anymore; they were them, a package deal. She would be lying if she said it didn't warm her heart, if just a little bit.

A little bit of a lot.

"I like the beard".

"I mean, God Natasha after so many years you can't just expect me to leave you, not when I- wait, what?"

"The beard. It suits you. I've missed it".

Steve stared at her for a few seconds, confusion etched on his face. Natasha couldn't blame him; she didn't know what had possessed her to say it either. The truth really was addictive tonight.

"I miss the suit too. Not the god awful red, white and blue patriotic bullshit. You know, the navy one? You used to wear it a lot on our SHIELD Missions-"

"The stealth suit? Yeah, I know the one".

"That one was my favourite"

"Really?"

"Mm-mm. Brought out your eyes". She smiled, a real one this time. "Could have killed Stark and Banner when they downgraded you into that star-spangled monstrosity. Clint had to calm me down"

Steve was smiling too. "Didn't know you liked the suit that much."

"Like you said, you don't know women".

He chuckled. "I'd like to think I'm getting better at it".

"You are".

They were staring at each other now. And in a flash of déjà vu, Natasha found herself thinking back to a time when they were both staring at each other whilst running around in a stolen car, driving away from everything she had ever known. She had asked him then. Who do you want me to be? She had asked him. Had offered him something else. She knew he knew what she had meant. Tony would make quick jabs here and there over the '90-year-old virgin' but she knew him better than that. He wasn't frigid and he knew exactly what Natasha had meant. And he had answered friend. She didn't know much about that; besides Clint, Natasha had never really done the friend thing before. But Natasha had tried. God, she had really tried. From setting him up on dates to taking on herself the task of introducing him to the modern age (starting with the Titanic, naturally. A real ice-breaker). She'd like to think that she had done a good job at it. At being his friend.

Friends don't look at each other like that though.

It was Steve who first broke the silence, "Would you want to grab a milkshake? Tomorrow, maybe?".

His tell. The one arm behind his back. The scratching of his neck. He was nervous.

She cocked her head as she looked at him. Then she smiled.

Another real one.

"Much better, Steve. You didn't even insult me first"

"I'm a fast learner"

"So I have been told," She winked then, just for the hell of it. He blushed on cue, just as she had planned for him to do. She moved over then, patting the space to her side for him to join her. He read her well and moved as she intended, lifting one arm so she could rest her head gently on his chest. They sat in silence for a few moments. That was, until she opened her mouth again:

"I also want those donuts"

Author Note: Like always, feel free to leave a comment/favourite! They make my day. Or if you have any prompts if I make this a collection of connected one-shots :)