Hey guys! Here is the first chapter! I hope you like it! I don't own anything, marvel does.

CHAPTER 1

It's four o'clock in the afternoon and still in bed, how was it possible? He was Steve Rogers, of course it was possible! Natasha said and cursed in her way to to his room, he had already slept enough, and were left to throw some baskets. She didn't care at what time he came home last night and with whom. She also had a busy night and did not have to make everyone participate in it. But Steve did like to emphasize that her life was comfortable and enviable.

She entered the room and found him sprawled on the bed. Natasha wasn't going to pass unnoticed, so she threw herself on the bed, making it vibrate. It did not work. She sat on his back and began to jump.

"Wake up big boy! We are going to be late. I'm here to wake you up." said Natasha.

"Go away" he growled as he hid his face in the pillow.

"Come on!" she said, leaning on his back and leaning her face on his shoulder. "The boys are going to be angry." she stated before gently biting his shoulder.

"Auch! Already got up."

Reluctantly he stepped out from under the pillow as she pulled back to lie down beside him.

"I'm naked, you should not be in my bed," he protested.

"There are many things I shouldn't do and I do them. It's one of my charms." she teased. "I know you're naked. You always sleep like that. That's why I have not gotten under the sheets. But as long as you do not hurry, I'll get you out of there naked."

Steve took boxers out of a drawer as she got up and headed to his closet. He watched as she rummaged through his drawers and grabbed one of his favorite t-shirts. Natasha took off the one she wore to put on her friend's, and he could see her silhouette. How could I have never seen her before? She always did the same, changed her shirt in front of him, on her back, letting her long tail only see her shoulders, could not even see the tight t-shirt of suspenders. She had never been exposed to scrutiny, never wore tight clothing, dresses or had bikini in front of him. How was it possible that his best lifelong friend had never gone with him to the beach? He shook his head to stop thinking about such nonsense. They were colleagues, no matter the physical aspect, for that were the rest of the women.

Natasha had learned over the years that she was not affected by the sensuality of Steve. She controlled that game more than he could imagine. She dedicated herself to that. But he would never know. He had to keep thinking that if she did not get on her nerves and throw herself on him, it was because she did not find him sexually attractive, he should never know that it was because she had learned much more self-control than all the girls he dealt with.

"I went out last night and I'm hung over, you should be a good friend and pity me." he said, pulling her out of his thoughts.

"You do not give me the slightest grief." she snapped, throwing him the shirt she had just taken off.

He absorbed the scent of his T-shirt and without thinking he put it on. Many times he did, put on of the t-shirts she gave him back and that's why she had stopped bringing them already washed, although they were clean, of course. He did not have to justify himself, the shirt was his, he could wear it whenever he wanted, and if he preferred it to be after she had removed it, what else? He did not have to justify himself. He likes how she smelled, so what? It meant nothing, he repeated himself once more, as he did every day.

"Some jeans and you look like a decent man. Or at least, they will not stop you from public scandal." she joked as she sat on the bed and yawned.

"Wow! It seems that I am not the only one who slept." he said aptly.

"This ... I was up late." she said simply.

"So much television is not good. One day you should come with us. A little partying will make you feel good. Yesterday we tried to enter the club that I told you about, "The Ritual" and nothing. There's no way they're letting us in. But as my name is Steve, I'll go in there!"

Not if I can stop you, she thought. She had spent the night awake, she had not lied about it and it was not her fault if he misjudged. She loved his friend a lot, and he would love the place, it was the fashionable place, but she could not let him see her working there. Luckily the chance and the strict orders of the owner, made that the porters do not let pass any young, however handsome, that did not have a name or face known. Working in that place had been the best of solutions for not mingling with your college buddies. None would have access and if they had it they would probably not recognize it or not notice it. The calmness of these thoughts made her smile.

"Someday I'll go out with you." In twenty or thirty years, she thought.

"After the game we'll go to watch the game and for a few beers, you won't leave us as usual?"

"No, today I can." she conceded, smiling.

That night she did not have to work because the night before she had argued with the chief and to make herself beg she had said that she was leaving. One night without her and would creep back at her feet. In that place no one knew how to do anything without her permission. And she was tired of organizing everything, being public relations, waitress and mediator between employees and clients, to be paid as a simple dancer. She liked her work, the one she was supposed to do and the one she actually did, but that did not make her unconscious and did not know that they did not value her. Either they paid for it or they did not, she told herself.

They went to the court where everyone was waiting for them. They played and laughed as usual. It was so easy to integrate with them. She loved his company, though that meant hiding behind clothes that did not identify her. But she felt safe and comfortable in them. They went to have a few beers and watch the game. It was one more of the guys, and the girls she hated so much let her know.

"Hey, guys." she purred into Steve's ear as she stroked his hair. "Can we go with them?"

"Sharon" he protested as he shook his hand. "We're watching the game. Don't you have women's things to do?"

Natasha wanted to protest. I knew they did not consider her as such, but she was a woman. It was said that it was better not to speak because she would only be able to defend the last person she would defend. But I could be clear that he would hear it later. And the same thing I could tell Sharon, she thought. That girl was too low and the worst thing was that she did not get anything. Hadn't she learned anything about it? She could certainly teach her various things. But I would die first, before helping her with something, she told herself. Sharon had been the perfect stereotype of a typical teen movie, popular and unbearable. Natasha was well considered among the boys but the girls treated her with the respect that the unknown caused them. A girl who does not pretend to stand out or get the attention of men? Impossible! Unless it was not attractive and it was the concept that everyone had of her.

-"Would you rather watch twenty guys running than me?" she whispered, caressing his cheek.

- "You are right! You did not convince me last night." he said irritably.

- "Asshole!" she cried angrily.

Sharon went mad followed by her goupies. That was right, Steve could be a real asshole, thought Natasha, but luckily for her he would never treat her like that, because she was not a woman but his best friend. She thanked God for deciding to hide, otherwise they probably would not be friends now. And Steve was their pillar not to collapse, their support in the chaos that was their home. He might not really know her, her life, but he knew her soul. He always knew when she was feeling bad or not, when she wanted to talk or just a hug. He was the perfect friend and she would not lose it because he focused more on the miniskirt she wore than on what she told him.

Steve watched as Natasha frowned and put his arm around her shoulders, bringing her back to reality. His friend was a hopeless feminist and he was sure she was going to give him a sermon on how to treat a woman. But now it was time to have fun with colleagues, a few beers and good jokes.

Steve called Natasha to her house and was surprised she was not there. He called her cell phone and didn't answer. Worried because it was getting too late, he ran out of his house. While he was in the garden he looked at the roof of his own house and there she was! He sighed relieved and climbed the ladder, which staggered slightly with weight. He sat down beside her and stared at the starry sky.

"What happened now?" asked Steve, unconcerned.

"I don't know. I left as soon as they started arguing. The scene loses its grace when it is repeated daily." explained Natasha, looking at nothing.

"I do not understand why you don't leave your house," replied Steve after a sigh. "You are not happy there!"

"You are so dramatic!" she teased, trying to improvise a smile.

"Why are you on my roof then? You're the only adult in that house."

"That's a possibility." she confirmed sadly. "But they are my parents and without me, they would end up killing each other. My mother would end up carrying out some of her stupid threats and my father would end up leaving her or putting her in an insane facility or something." She sighed with resignation and looked at him with a radiant smile. "I'm essential."

"Let's change the subject," Steve said. "You told me some time ago that you needed to work so you have some money.

"Yes, I don't want to have to go to my father for those things. You know how it is. I prefer safe money if I need it for anything."

"Nat, it's me. Do not lie to me. I know you want money to pay the bills that your father "forgets" to pay. You're the only one who makes the purchase and takes care of that house."

"Come on, I'm like a saint!" she teased reluctantly.

Since her father had undertaken work autonomy, Natasha had to worry that the money would be invested, to some extent, in the family home and not just in the business, as her father wanted. Her mother, though she was really kind, was very immature and capricious, qualities that disgusted her daughter as much as provoked the need to protect her. Over the years she had learned not to get involved in the fights between her parents, since she was the only one who suffered from them. She spent hours crying in her room thinking that when she got out she would see her mother leave or her father had the courage to scream and tell her how much he wanted to fulfill her promise to leave. But there was always the same scene, the two embracing and kissing, like two college kids, acting as if nothing had happened. Only Natasha suffered. Until she decided to leave the scene and flee to the warm arms of her friend. Or to his roof.

"Who was the guy who went to college this morning with you? He was ..." elegant, Steve thought, and had to admit, "handsome-much older than you."

"Easy little brother," she teased, laughing. "Do you think a guy like that would look at me?" Of course! She replied to herself.

"Well ... I just thought it was weird that he was looking for you," he said relieved.

"He was my boss," she said without thinking. "Work ... ahm ... I take care of his children! That's it, at night. That's why I can't go out with you. And he went to look for me because ... his wife fired me on Saturday and came to apologize in her name. She had a few more drinks than usual and they fought. She took it with me." she lied.

"Oh, wow! You did not tell me. I'm glad you found something. Caring for children should not be too difficult. Although you never call me to help you.

Steve continued joking about her supposed job, while she laughed to herself, thinking that it was not so different from what she actually did. No doubt the guys I had to deal with every weekend were not kids, but many of them behaved like that. All of them, to be more exact. And they thought she was a toy. A toy that everyone fought every night and dreamed of and remembered every day. But it was just another fantasy. That was their job, to provoke the desires and lusts of all of them, entertain them and above all, make them stay and consume. And she did it really well. So much so, that her boss came to look for her, after making a box with half of the expected profits. In a short time, she had made many friends, who left right away after noticing she wasn't working anymore. So to secure the benefits, she had been promoted to public relations. It was not bad for a simple dancer, she thought proudly.

"Then," said Natasha, coming out of her thoughts, "Sharon finally got what she wanted."

"Yes," said the man. "On Saturday I gave in."

"You speak as if you were forced," she said with a smile.

"She's the most selfish, thought-provoking girl I've ever met. And do not think I don't know how she treats you. "

"Why did you mess with her then?" She asked.

"Because she is very good," he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"You are lost by women!" she accused, laughing.

" I know, I know"- holding her – "They do with me what they want."

"No. You do with them what you can and they let you."

"Hey! I only do what they ask me. What fault do I have to be so irresistible?"

"Excuse! I'm going to throw up and then I'm coming back." she joked, pretending to get up so she can leave.

"Come here!" he ordered smiling as he pressed her against him.

Steve was always there when she needed it. He cared for her without making her feel vulnerable or dependent. She had also been a tearful cloth to him when his parents divorced and after a few bad years with his mother, Steve had decided to live with his father, who had remarried in the first year of the divorce. This pleased Steve, because he adored his stepmother and did not like to live alone with his father, although there were no problems between them, they were a few tense months. Natasha had been there with him, having lunch and dinner together almost every day, until his stepmother moved after the wedding. In a short time, he had the mother he had never had, cared for him and spoiled him like the rest of the women around him. For him it was the happiest moment of his life, not a single woman around him was resisting.

The next morning was like any other. They went to classes and met in the gardens with the rest of their friends. They joked and laughed. Everyone had grown used to having one of them laying on the other's lap. In time they stopped making assumptions, realizing that nothing was happening between them. No one was commenting anymore. Except Brock Rumlow. No body liked him, but they were forced to stand him for being Steve's distant cousin. And nobody would do anything to infuriate the leader of their group. Not a single one of his members argued with him because they appreciated him almost as much as they admired and envied him. There was only one person they could obey more vehemently, but it was more out of fear, and that was Natasha. Steve loved to watch how his friends feared her, as if she were capable of killing them with her eyes. Possibly, because more than one had received some of her jokes or revenge, and neither of them were light. It was good to fear her, he had no doubt about that.

Leaning on a tree, Natasha listened to the jokes of all, while she played distractedly with the Steve's hair, which was on her lap. Looking at the sky, at nothing, she started. Among the crowd of students, a familiar face walked towards her. But what was she doing there? She was going to spoil everything! She became alarmed and jumped almost causing a muscular contracture in the neck of her friend. She had to calm down and dissemble, so she processed a gentle smile and stood up, listening to Steve's grumpy protests.

The last thing she needed was for her "other" life to come and invade her. And something told her that the presence of her best friend Wanda, will do it! It was a beauty that caused glances wherever she went. She knew of their charms and used them well to get the best tips. She was one of the best dancers of all with whom she had worked but she preferred to be a waitress, for the generous profits and the contact with the customers. They had become intimate because of their mutual respect for each other. And Wanda was the only one who knew everything about Natasha's two faces.

"What are you doing here?" she asked hastily as she approached.

"Bruce has learned that you study here and may come to visit you. I thought you wanted to know." Wanda sneered.

"Oh no! That man can not be more insufferable." Natasha protested, moving away from the eyes of her friends. Everyone had noticed the presence of the sensual girl and they were undressing her with the look: "Let's get out of here or I'll have to find you bodyguards," she said dragging Wand, who started laughing.

They walked away from the gardens and into the first building they found. They had to find a way to get rid of that man. She had been delaying the break up too long, but it was time. Natasha had agreed to go out with the attractive man, thinking that a man of his level and reputation would not take her seriously and just have a little fun. But the rich, scientific man claimed to have fallen in love. She'd made him think she was a ragged waitress without any trade or benefit, but it seemed Bruce had made good use of his contacts to discover she was an outstanding student of respectable family. The revelation did not please her and although Wanda offered to help her get rid of him, she could not think of a way to do it. Unless...