There wasn't anyone in the pool when Peter came out of the locker room. Not surprising, considering it was Sunday afternoon and everyone was getting ready for a new week – or simply savoring the last of the weekend. Natasha was waiting for him, though, sitting on the benches that ran along the wall and smiling a greeting to him when he emerged – even though she'd been heading for the bench when he'd gone into the locker room only a few minutes before, having just arrived at the pool.

"In you go," she ordered, standing up and reaching for the life saving floatie that whoever was with him always kept close at hand.

She was wearing a bathing suit, but had no intention of getting wet if she could avoid it. She didn't say it aloud, though.

Peter was getting to be fairly competent in the water, but there was no reason to tempt fate, after all.

He dove into the deep end with a much larger splash that some of the others would have produced – although he did manage to avoid doing a belly flop. When he came up for air, he turned, double checking where he was and then swimming toward the far side with steady strokes that were only a little off-kilter because of him babying his sore hand, still.

Natasha was quiet while he swam, not wanting to distract him, but keeping track of how many laps he completed, since she knew that Stephen would ask. Only when he was somewhat sore did Peter finally stop, and he timed it so that he stopped right by where she was standing.

"I think that's it for today," he said, looking up at her.

"How does the hand feel?"

"Aches a bit," Peter admitted. "But I think it's doing pretty good. I was flexing the fingers, earlier, while waiting for Tony and Pepper to come get me, and it wasn't stiff at all – just a little sore."

"That's promising." She shifted and seated herself on the side of the pool, allowing her legs to dangle in the water while he caught his breath, still holding onto the side. "How did it go with MJ?"

Peter shrugged.

"We broke up. I think."

"You think?" She decided that he didn't look too upset about it. "What does that mean?"

"I'm not positive that we were really dating, anyway…" he said. "But if we were, we aren't, anymore."

"What happened?"

"She apologized for being a jerk and I said I was sorry, too. Then she said that she was just worried about me, and I told her not to worry, because other people worry about me, already, you know?"

"Yeah."

"And she said friends are supposed to worry about each other."

"Which is true."

"I know. And that's what I said. About school, and clothes, though. Not serious stuff."

"And she said…?"

"That those aren't the problems that I give her. She said that I make her worry about me getting killed trying to be a hero."

"Ouch."

"Yeah." He shrugged. "I didn't help, though. Because I got a little mad and told her that I wasn't trying to be a hero – and that I already was one."

Natasha raised an eyebrow, somewhat pleased with him for saying it – since as far as she was concerned, it was the truth and she was glad that he realized it, too.

"I imagine that didn't go over well…"

"I expected her to freak out on me," Peter told her. "Maybe even storm off."

"What did she do?"

"She started to look mad, and opened her mouth like she was going to say something. And then she hesitated, and shrugged, and got a weird look on her face and nodded. She said that I was right; I was a hero."

"She said that?"

"Yeah." He gave a small smile. "I was surprised, too."

"Then what?"

"We talked a little, and decided that we'd both be better off if we were just friends. She's still going to hang out with us at school and at competitions, but we're not going to be more than just friends. Then she won't have to worry about me so much. No more than Ned does, anyway."

"That's pretty mature of you guys."

If they were able to actually do it. Time would tell, she knew.

"Think so? I don't know," Peter said, shrugging. "But she didn't look so mad when she left, and I don't feel quite as stressed out about us. She even hugged me. So I guess it's a good solution. I'm not really boyfriend material, anyway."

Natasha shook her head.

"I wouldn't give up, just yet," she told him. "There are other girls out there, you know?"

"None that know who I am, already," he said. "And I'm not telling anyone else, if I can avoid it. It's too stressful."

She didn't bother pointing out that MJ wasn't the only girl who knew who he was. Instead, she rolled her eyes. Teenaged boys were just clueless, sometimes, and it was a wonder they weren't all hit over the head by annoyed teenaged girls. Instead the deadly assassin just nodded, and splashed him with a swipe of her hand through the water near his face.

"Are you done swimming?"

"Yeah. Thanks for lifeguarding for me."

"You're welcome. What are you going to do, now?"

"Dry off and go brood, most likely."

Romanoff snorted, amused, but recognizing the truth to the statement.

"Why don't you dry off and then come hang out with me? I have a secret, and I'm dying to tell someone."

He looked interested, immediately, of course.

"Gossip?"

She smiled.

"I hope not. Which is why it's still a secret."

"Did Stephen propose?"

She looked startled by the question, and then Natasha chuckled. That, she knew, was being speculated about all over the compound. Her relationship with the sorcerer supreme was being scrutinized (from a careful distance) and it wasn't a secret. Which was fine, since she was joining in with everyone else who were scrutinizing Steve and Carol's relationship (what there was of it, so far) and had been monitoring Peter and MJ, as well. There was even talk that Bruce was seeing a woman he'd met at a conference in Atlanta – although that had yet to be confirmed.

"He did not," she told the boy, smiling at the slight disappointment she saw in his expression. "We're very happy where we are in our relationship, right now, and in no hurry to go any further at the moment."

"Would you ever want to get married?" he asked, curiously, resting his chin on his injured hand, which was on the edge of the tile that ran the length of the inner area of the pool.

"Maybe. Someday." Romanoff reached out and touched his forehead, automatically looking for a fever that wasn't there – or maybe just wanting to touch him. "It used to be that it wasn't really something that interested me," she said. "Since I knew that I couldn't have children – and a person in my line of work doesn't really have time for them, anyway."

Not to mention the danger that the child would be in from the enemies she'd made through the years. Peter knew that, though, obviously. It went without saying.

"You could always adopt…"

Natasha's sudden smile was almost giddy.

"I could," she agreed. "But thanks to you, I have more options, now."

Not surprisingly, Peter looked confused.

"What do you mean?"

"You can't tell anyone," she said, still smiling. "Not even Pepper or Tony."

"Is it bad?" he asked, looking worried. "Are you okay?"

To him you kept a secret to keep someone from worrying. It wasn't surprising to her that he immediately thought the worst. Romanoff's smile was warm, and not at all concerned.

"It's wonderful, baby. You won't tell?"

"No."

She made a show of looking around, dramatically, and leaned down a little more while he lifted his head to hear.

"You know the light that damaged your hand and healed the rest of the world…?"

"Yeah…?"

"It healed me, too."

"I know. Stephen said that you were on your feet before-"

"Not the injuries from the battle," she interrupted, her smile broadening. "It fixed what they did to me when I was a girl." He didn't understand, and she didn't make him ask. "In the red room, Peter. Your light cured the damage that my teachers did to make me infertile. I can have a baby, now, if I want to."

His eyes widened, and he glanced down toward her stomach, and then back up to her face.

"Are you pregnant?" he asked, suddenly looking excited. "Did you and Stephen-? I mean, is he-"

She quelled that with a hand over his mouth, so pleased that she couldn't contain the chuckle that bubbled up out of her.

"No. I'm not. But thanks to you, and what you did, I could be. We're taking precautions to make sure I'm not. Something I never thought I'd have to worry about."

"Wow…" he smiled at how happy she looked. Maybe happier than he'd ever seen her. "That's great. Congratulations."

"Thank you." She wanted to hug him, but couldn't, since he was in the water and she had no intention of getting wet. "But it's still a secret."

"Does Stephen know?"

"Yes. He went with me when I had myself checked out. And then he did some research – because you know how much he likes to research things – and as near as we can tell, I'm the only one that had this happen to them. No other doctors anywhere in the world are reporting reversed hysterectomies or other surgeries for birth control, or medical purposes. Just me. It's my own little miracle. Thanks to you."

"Wow."

Stephen had speculated that Peter had known Natasha was injured when he'd focused the power of the stones during the snap and even though he wasn't concentrating on her, just then, it was almost a certainty that the mind stone was aware that he was worried about her and maybe the focus had been on making sure that she was healed – or maybe that she was happy and whole – and that the light had reacted to that concern to heal the one injury that had been done to her that had hurt her the most. He pointed out that they'd probably never know, and she'd said – honestly – that she didn't care.

"Yeah, wow," she agreed. "But like I said, it's still a secret."

"And no one's business…" Peter added, feeling proud that she told him, though.

That right there made all the pain of his hand and arm worth it.

"True." It'd get out, eventually, but she knew her friends would only be happy for her – and maybe start making suggestions about the patter of little ninja feet echoing through the compound. She did hug him, then, as well as she could with him still in the water. "Get showered and dried off and come hang out with me," she repeated – although now she didn't have the secret to tell him. "We'll find something to do to keep you occupied until dinner."

"Okay."

He didn't exactly leap out of the pool; his hand wouldn't let him do that, yet, but he was practically skipping once he'd hauled himself out of the water and headed for the locker room. Romanoff got up, as well, and picked up a towel to dry her legs and feet off, and then she went to go change, too.

It was a good day.