This doesn't belong to me, it isn't mine... except my own stuff that's in here. That's mine. Nothing of what you recognise from Marvel.

TapTap

Dinner with the Avengers was not exactly a peaceful affair, but it felt peaceful to Claire. Lieutenant Barnes and Captain Rogers were sitting close to one another, looking suspiciously like they'd just gotten together. She had been sure when she first saw them that they'd been a couple already. She put that off to how she was clearly better with mechanics than she was with people.

The low-key but obvious hand-holding of the two soldiers elicited very different reactions around the table. Doctor Banner was smiling for himself as he dished out curry for the rest of them, while Hawkeye was making a series of barf noises when the two got too affectionate. Stark seemed more amused than anything, but she had seen him with his bots enough to recognise his secret protectiveness, and the pleasure the man took in those he cared about being happy, when she saw it.

What was unexpected was the Black Widow's response to the sweet little scene. She seemed worried about something; and looking at the happy pair only seemed to make it worse. She was visibly disturbed - and she wasn't one to give her emotion away easily - when Rogers asked halfway through the meal, "Isn't Pepper coming over today?"

"Nope. Said something about being busy with work," Stark shrugged, seemingly not bothered by this at all, which was not even remotely the case with the most unflappable person out of all of them. Something was very wrong.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Banner leant against the wall. This space was one that they all shared: a little reading room on the communal floor. He and Natasha were the only two people there.

With a sigh, Natasha did indeed share. "Something is wrong with Pepper." She would not have said anything, not to most people, but she trusted Doctor Banner, and his ability to keep secrets if needed.

Bruce did not ask how she knew that: master spy, and all that. He just moved over to sit next to her in the soft silence, and then waited for her to speak again.

"She didn't just not come over tonight. Tony didn't pick up on her tone when she called him, obviously, but when she spoke to me... something is really wrong, and she's scared. But she will not confide in me."

"And that makes you think a whole lot of other things might be wrong, too," he concluded softly. He didn't add anything else, nor judge her. Just like she knew he wouldn't.

"Yes. I am not good with relationships. I never had any, not unless they were for work!" Natasha said with a slight hitch to her voice.

Bruce reached out a hand and pulled her closer, into a hug. "I am sure Pepper knew that from the start and wanted you anyway. I am positive she still does. It could be anything, Natasha. Maybe she..."

"You come up with nothing? Thanks for trying," Natasha said in a low voice when nothing more was forthcoming, mostly holding back the sigh.

Bruce laughed. "She might have spotted any problem, anything, and simply does not want to bother anyone with it and make them worry, instead deciding to spend the evening at the office, sorting it out. It isn't as if it would be a first."

"That would still mean she didn't trust me," Natasha pointed out, only to get a headshake from Bruce in return.

"No, it doesn't. Not trusting someone and wanting to protect them is not the same thing. She is fierce in an entirely different way from yours. Let her take care of you sometimes. Or at least give her the benefit of the doubt. She might just not be able to stand the thought of talking with Tony for the third time today." Natasha might have smiled at that, if she was the type for it. They both knew that the made-up reason was nonsense, of course, but it did make her feel a tiny bit better.

"This... never used to be this awkward." Bucky laughed awkwardly, only to get a similarly bothered look in return from Steve. They shared a floor in the tower, but they had separate bedrooms. Tonight, though, having decided they were a pair and everything, they had decided to share. Was it always this awkward, or just the first time?

"No... but it was only about warmth or lack of space back then... I guess this is different?" Steve speculated, watching the softly blue sheets with impossibly high tread counts warily, as if they might bite him unless he was careful.

"This is silly. We are being silly," Bucky finally decided, after they had been awkwardly just standing there for almost a minute. "Let's get in bed. It's not like it is going to attack us or anything."

"Probably not," Steve agreed, cautiously getting in, biting his lip and just looking so utterly kissable even in his nervous state. Bucky climbed into bed beside him, curling up against Steve's body, for a brief second afraid of rejection, as Steve initially tensed.

After a moment, though, Steve settled against the pillows with a contented sigh; gathering Bucky into his arms, seemingly uncaring that one of his arms was metal and very hard as well as cool to the touch.

"We need more practice at this," Bucky noted, resting his head on Steve's chest, "we are rubbish at it."

"We seem to be doing well, to me," Steve responded, trying and failing to hide a yawn. They settled in under the covers with a few soft words, pulling the covers up and tucking each other in, before hands sneaked under the t-shirts they were wearing along with their pyjama bottoms, even though they never used to.

By the time they fell asleep their legs were tangled, Bucky's metal fingers were resting shyly on Steve's hip, though above the soft material of his pyjama bottoms, with the fingers of his flesh hand tangled comfortably into Steve's short, blond hair.

Steve had one arm around Bucky, hand at the small of his back, sneaked into his t-shirt from down the hem, and the other was cupping his friend's shoulder and neck in an almost possessive manner.

Neither one of them dared to suggest that they could remove their t-shirts, even though they really didn't need them for warmth, but Bucky was right: they needed to practice this. It seemed, though, that Steve was just as observant, and just as right. They really were doing well, together.