Fic and chapter titles from "West," by Sleeping At Last.

Updates every Thursday!

It starts with a marriage.

Not Nat's, of course, but it's still a very lovely wedding, all things considered. Tony and Pepper wouldn't settle for anything less than phenomenal.

Pepper is also, well, about seven months pregnant, and put all of her pre-motherly anxiety into obsessive wedding planning that Tony was more than happy to step away from.

"You don't want to wait until...after the baby to have a wedding?" Rhodey had asked, eyeing Pepper carefully.

Tony had narrowed his eyes at him. "Who's going to have time for a wedding when the baby's here?"

"Point for Tony," Nat had murmured. She's been unofficially keeping track, purely for her own entertainment. So far, the one in the lead has been Happy, but no one knows that except for her.

Pepper looks gorgeous in her wedding dress, even as pregnant as she is. Tony's growing slightly emotional and already has tears in his eyes, despite the hours left to go.

"I don't deserve her," he'd lamented to her last week in tears, burying his face in his hands.

Nat had smacked him none too gently on the shoulder. "Get ahold of yourself," she'd told him with a practiced roll of her eyes.

Now, she supposes that Tony looks nice in his expensive suit, too, but she's not going to build up his ego any further.

Predictably, Tony's best man is Rhodey, with Happy and Peter as the other groomsmen. Nate and Pepper's adorable niece are the ring boy and flower girl, respectively (not that Nate isn't adorable). Unsurprisingly, Pepper's maid of honor is her sister, but what is surprising is that Nat was asked to be one of the other bridesmaids, along with one Michelle Jones, who had probably been even more surprised than Nat had.

It's sweet, how Tony all but adopting Peter means more than just Peter, means his friends and his aunt, too.

Nat thinks she kind of understands this, what with her three families in one.

Anyways, the ceremony was beautiful and the reception is in full swing, and Nat has no idea what that means for her wedding, because she and Matt haven't exactly...talked about it, at all. To be fair, they've been extremely busy during the last two months, with half of all people suddenly existing again after five months of absence.

Matt has had a lot of cases. Nat has had a lot of missions, humanitarian and otherwise.

They haven't talked about it.

Should they be talking about it?

Nat shelves this topic in her mind for another time or she's going to spiral, and Tony and Pepper's wedding at their new lake house isn't exactly the best time and place to do that.

"Thinking hard about something?" Clint asks, sidling up to her. "Or someone?" He smirks.

Natasha shoves him away. "Shut up," she mutters with a small smile she can't hide. Ever since the grieving period ended and the dusted came back, he's been teasing her incessantly about Matt. He's the only one on Nat's end who's aware of their relationship at the moment.

"Really thought you'd bring him here," Clint says, slightly more seriously, "or Yelena. Either one. I want to meet both."

"Introducing my fiancé at someone else's wedding would be weird," Nat tells him frankly, "and Yelena's not a fan of extravagance." Nat can relate: it's not like the Red Room had much in the form of extravagance.

"I'll get to meet them sometime?" Clint says with what she can only describe as a pout.

She rolls her eyes. "Of course."

"And Laura and the kids get to tag along, too?"

"Of course," she reiterates. "Your family is mine."

"Thanks, Nat," he says with a softer smile, and it's the smile that makes her feel like she hasn't failed the world, rather the opposite.

Tony eventually ruins the warm feeling in her chest a little while later. (She means this with fondness, of course.) She's holding a glass of champagne and staring at the peaceful water under the twinkling stars when he walks up to her, and they unceremoniously clink glasses. The place is further away from the crowd, but still close enough that she can hear the festivities.

"Nice view?" Tony asks. "I would know. I bought the place."

"Yeah yeah," Nat says with a begrudging smile. After a moment, she sighs. "This place is nice," she has to admit.

"Knew you'd come around." Tony grins.

Nat narrows her eyes at him. "I was complimenting the place, not the guy who bought it."

"Sure."

"You didn't make the place."

"...But I bought it."

"I'm aware," Nat says lightly, and her eyes may be crinkling. She doesn't quite know, and she doesn't really care, anyways. Who needs shields when they've got trustworthy (happy) family?

"So who's the lucky guy? Or gal? I'm not judging."

You shouldn't hit a guy on his wedding night, no matter how smug he is, Nat tells herself. Not that this is unusual with Tony, not at all. "Who says there is anyone?"

It's Tony's turn to narrow his eyes at her. "I'm not completely oblivious."

"Just most of the time."

"Hey."

"It's true."

"Stop deflecting."

"And if I did have a significant other?" Nat asks, raising her eyebrows. She's not giving anything away. Hopefully. Apparently, it's harder to hide secrets from people when you've become closer to them. Who would've guessed?

"I'd be happy for you," Tony says frankly, with utter honesty in his eyes that Nat can't ignore.

"The romance of your new marriage getting to you?" she asks wryly.

Tony smiles softly. "The hope for my friends to be happy," he corrects. Which is honestly...very touching.

"Mr. Stark!" Peter calls from the crowd, waving his arms wildly.

Tony rolls his eyes. "That kid. I'm never getting him to call me Tony at this rate." He starts to walk back towards the bulk of the party. "Won't say I wasn't disappointed when you came without a plus one," he tells her. "But you'll bring one next time, right?"

The fact that Tony hasn't researched or stalked her and her people means that he really cares, that he trusts her, and Nat finally has to admit that the trust is mutual.

"Maybe I will," she calls out, and he responds with a wink, a smirk, and a thumbs up, all of which are on-brand for Tony Stark except for the slightly awkward thumbs up, which he maybe accidentally inherited from Peter.

Maybe she will.

Nat comes back late enough that Matt's already passed out in bed, but he stirs when she's in the bathroom wiping off her makeup, her light pink bridesmaid dress already packed away.

Almost silently, he comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist, lazily pressing his forehead against her shoulder.

She reaches a hand down to swipe gently against bruised knuckles before finishing her nightly routine, or as routine as it's going to get for a spy slash Avenger who goes on missions around the world and even in space, now, but those are, fortunately, rare.

(This is natural, almost domestic, and maybe a part of her is still scared of disrupting this balance they have with something more permanent.)

"You didn't have to get out of bed," she murmurs as they both collapse onto his (Their?) bed.

Matt reaches up, beginning to remove the pins in her hair and unravel her intricate braiding. "Doesn't mean I couldn't," Matt says sweetly, and a fond smile creeps onto Nat's face. Maybe the alcohol's getting to her.

They sit in comfortable silence as Matt drops pin after pin into Nat's open hand. He brushes her hair out gently, and Nat wonders what she ever did to deserve him.

And then she realizes she's thinking exactly like Tony had, so she immediately stops the thought process entirely. Which isn't hard, considering she's half-asleep like Matt.

She places her hair pins onto the bedside table next to the lamp. And, well, there really is no denying that she's practically moved in by now, is there? Considering that Matt hasn't had a bedside lamp since he was a kid.

"Stop thinking. Go to sleep," Matt mumbles. She moves to lay down beside him.

"Ever think about our wedding?" she asks him quietly, finally voicing her tiny doubts. "About making things official?"

"What we have right now is still very real," he tells her, neatly cutting out all of her insecurities because Matt's always been good at that. He wraps his arms around her and kisses the top of her head. "But I wouldn't be opposed to thinking about it."

It's a pretty peaceful night of sleep, all things considered.

In the morning, they eat breakfast and grab coffee together. "What did I even say last night?" Matt asks her suspiciously on their way to his office. Nat has a cap on and they're making sure to avoid most people, because despite what Steve believes, a cap isn't actually enough to hide one's identity from the world. "I don't remember a thing."

Nat smiles brightly at him and shrugs exaggeratedly so his sleepy brain can catch it—the shrug, not the smile, though she hopes he can somehow hear both, anyways. "That's for me to know and for you not to," she tells him simply.

She watches his smile fight his frown and win. "I'll let you keep your secrets," he says fondly.

"All you need to know is that sleepy you is kinda adorable."

"Don't let my enemies know that."

"Well, now that I think about it, aren't you sometimes partly asleep as Daredevil? I don't think that's good practice."

"First of all, people think Daredevil is very scary, so you're obviously wrong. Second of all, if this is your way of getting me to sleep more, it's not working."

"Are you sure?" she asks. "I can be very convincing."

He rolls his eyes and hits her ankle lightly with his cane.

"Ow," she says, pausing to rub her completely uninjured ankle. "How dare you use violence against me."

"Apologies. I can't see, y'know."

It's Nat's turn to roll her eyes. "Uh huh," she tells him flatly.

"It's true!"

When they reach the door of Nelson & Murdock, Matt tilts his head to the side a little, which is also adorable, but she's definitely not telling him that. "Foggy and Karen aren't in yet," he says.

"Say hi to them for me," she tells him, and they make sure to share a chaste kiss behind the closed door before Nat is off again for another day at the Avengers Compound.

So, yeah, it's a bit domestic, something younger her could have never foreseen. Nat is used to keeping secrets, especially this one, but it won't stay like this forever.

"You're getting better," she tells Wanda after a training session of hand-to-hand. Wanda smiles hesitantly at her and nods in thanks.

Nat's taking a sip out of her water bottle when Wanda says, "You seem happier." Nat isn't as uncouth as to choke on her water, but it's a damn near thing.

"Thank you?" she says, and then clears her throat, meeting Wanda's eyes. "I meant that without the question mark. Is it really that obvious?"

Wanda gives her a warmer smile, and Nat notes that they are starting to reach her eyes again, seven months after Vision's death. "Yes," she says frankly. "Also, the others have been gossiping about boyfriends."

Nat frowns. "Boyfriends in general or just my love life."

"Your love life," Wanda confirms. "If that exists. I'm pretty sure it does, though."

"Don't tell them that," Nat grumbles. "I want to do a big reveal on my own terms. I like having control of the situation."

"We know."

"Missions always go better when I help plan them."

"We know."

"Why do I feel like you're just placating me?"

Wanda shrugs with a bright smile that makes her look younger (Nat notes this with a flash of grief for all the losses Wanda's suffered). "You tell me," she says, and then looks over Nat's shoulder with raised eyebrows.

Nat turns around to see a smirking Clint. Fuck you, she mouths with narrowed eyes. He gives her the finger because they're mature like that. Wanda's answering laughter is heartwarming to hear.

After Nat takes revenge on her teammates with some strategically placed glitter bombs and buckets of water over doorways (let it be said that the old fashioned ways are still just as capable as the new), she heads home.

Home is not her room in the compound.

Which is fortunate, otherwise she'd probably be in the crossfire of some creative counter-pranks, and she'd rather observe the resulting chaos from afar, thank you very much.

"None of them noticed?" Matt asks from where he's sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the coffee table, papers for a new case spread out in some way that makes sense to him but looks like a catastrophe to Nat. "Either you really are a spy or they're just unobservant."

"I am a spy," Nat says, laying on the couch with a new copy of The Main Enemy open in her hands. Pretty much the only not work-related thing she spends her money on are books, shelves upon shelves of them that she inevitably donates because sometimes she's just not free enough to even think of reading for pleasure.

Some people might call it a waste. Nat would tell these theoretical people that she really doesn't have anything else to spend money on, and at least this is better than getting a jacket with a million pockets, only to hand it off to your sister and then unceremoniously die for five months.

"Reading a spy book doesn't make you a spy," Matt says, not pausing in skimming his documents.

"Who says I'm reading a spy book?" Nat asks him, turning a page and frowning.

"I do."

"How do you know?"

"I have my sources."

"You asked Foggy to read you the title, didn't you?"

"I plead the fifth."

Nat smiles. "I like internally pointing out all the inaccuracies," she defends.

"Sure," Matt says. "Does that make you a spy?"

"I'm a Black Widow; I'm the Black Widow."

"Propaganda," Matt tells her blithely, though the slight twitching in his voice means he's trying not to laugh.

"I can be a spy and my teammates can be unobservant," Nat says. "They aren't mutually exclusive."

"Please tell me you at least got Stark."

"I wouldn't do that to him. He's on his honeymoon."

"But if he happened to have his honeymoon in the Avengers Compound for some reason?"

"Well then...he would probably be caught in the crossfire, completely unintentionally, of course."

"Of course."

Nat huffs out a little laugh. "What do you have against him, anyways?" she asks.

"It's an unofficial rule of mine that I have to pick one of my future in-laws to hate," Matt tells her simply, as if the statement makes any sort of sense.

Nat frowns. "I thought the stereotype was for mothers-in-law," she points out.

"Your mother sounds a lot scarier than Tony Stark," Matt says frankly.

Nat snorts, and they read in comfortable silence (one person enjoying it a lot more than the other) for maybe 20 minutes before Matt plugs his earphones into his laptop and begins typing. Nat's never been one for legal stuff, so she mostly ignores him and continues picking apart her book, but it is admittedly more fact-checked than most other spy books she has encountered.

"I had FRIDAY's help," she admits after a bit.

"What?" Matt says, pulling out one earphone, which is less for his hearing (obviously) and more for her benefit. He's letting her know that he's listening, that he cares about what she has to say. He's always been considerate like that, she thinks fondly.

"FRIDAY is Tony's AI at the compound. I may or may not have sworn her to secrecy and asked her to lure the others into my well placed traps."

Matt snorts. "You put way too much effort into pranking them."

"It was a battle for my honor," Nat says with mock importance, a grin creeping onto her face.

"Maybe a better spy would be able to do it without someone's help," Matt teases.

"Well, what's a spy without some form of support?" Nat tells him, and maybe Matt hears more than that, hears that she's utterly grateful to have him and the rest of her family by her side.

A week of relatively normal days passes, filled with routine that Nat has sorely missed.

"Dinner suggestions?" she asks casually, expecting an answer from any one of the seven other people currently hanging out in the compound's main living area. "For me, not for you guys. No offense. Not gonna be here tonight."

"Food," Wanda says, sitting on the couch and not looking up from her phone.

"Something actually edible," Steve tells her, probably remembering all the times they'd almost tricked him into eating objects unhealthy for one's digestive system by telling him that food is just like that in the modern age.

"Ice cream," Pepper blurts out, because the pregnancy cravings are really hitting her hard.

"Can't go wrong with Italian food," Tony suggests, words muffled by the screw balanced in his mouth.

"I dunno. Pizza?" Bucky says like the true New Yorker that he is, lazily sprawled out on the ground holding a paperback book above his face.

"...A sandwich?" Bruce suggests from the armchair, looking up from his laptop and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"There's this really good Thai place that me and my aunt go to a lot, if you're willing to go to Queens," Peter tells her enthusiastically before dragging his attention back to whatever he and Tony are tinkering with.

Nat lets out a long sigh in mourning for her own sanity. "Thank you, Peter," she says. "Send me the address and I'll go check it out."

"Awesome," Peter says, glancing at her with a grin and fortunately or unfortunately past the hero worshipping slash cowering in fear stage people go through when they first meet her. He sends her a quick text and adds, "You're welcome, Ms. Romanoff!"

"Hey, I gave a perfectly good suggestion!" Bucky protests, sitting up and stretching his arms over his head.

Tony frowns. "Stop trying to steal my padawan, Romanoff," he says distractedly.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Nat responds with a grin.

"Uh," Steve says, raising a hand. "What's a padawan?"

They all stare at him for a few seconds. Even Tony straightens and looks up from his project. "Have we really failed you that much?" he asks in horror.

"I'm sorry?" Steve asks, shrinking a little.

Peter's mouth is wide open and Nat is about to point this out when he says, "Oh my god. Captain America doesn't know Star Wars."

"But I do know Star Wars!" Steve protests with a confused furrow of his eyebrows.

Bruce frowns and tilts his head, considering. "Did you only watch the original trilogy?" he asks.

"Yeah...why?"

"Padawan's a term introduced in the prequel trilogy."

"...There's a prequel trilogy?"

"But that's the best trilogy!" Peter says with a truly distressed look on his face. "I'm so disappointed in you!"

Steve grimaces. "I'm so sorry?" he offers, because Peter Parker is not someone you should disappoint.

"Alright, this can't stand," Tony declares, standing up and clapping his hands dramatically to gain their attention. "We shall binge the Star Wars for the rest of today."

"Can we at least avoid the most recent movies?" Wanda asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Unfortunately, no," Tony answers with a smirk. "Rogers needs the whole experience."

And so, that's how Nat ends up watching all the Star Wars movies at the Avengers Compound, and then ordering Thai to bring to Matt for dinner.

"Should I tell the rest of them about us?" she wonders out loud, poking at fried rice with her chopsticks.

Matt shrugs, swallowing a mouthful of noodles. "Most of my people know already, 'cause I suck at secrets," he points out.

"And yet you're the one with a secret identity."

"Barely," Matt concedes with a grin. "Anyways, the only people on my end who don't know yet are like, Foggy's family. They practically adopted me the very first time I came over, and they're going to be entirely too dramatic about me getting married, so that can wait. Whether or not you want to tell the Avengers and your dangerous Russian spy people is all up to you. I'm good with whatever you decide."

"When I introduce you, I'm gonna tell my team that you implied they aren't dangerous," Nat teases with a small smile of her own.

Matt holds up a finger. "I implied that they aren't Russian," he corrects. "There's a difference."

"Lawyer," Nat mutters, but Matt can hear the fondness in her voice, and she supposes that's alright.

A month later, Matt buys some good earplugs and lightly drugs himself on sleeping pills so that he doesn't die from all the noise a functional airplane makes, among other things. The whole two hours and a half there, he dozes with his head on Nat's shoulder while Nat looks down at him fondly and hopes to god that he wakes up by the time the flight is over, or she's gonna have a hell of a time getting him off the plane.

Fortunately, he does wake up, with minutes to spare.

He's extremely groggy and his balance is completely off, so much so that he almost careens into a wall, but it's better than nothing, and at least it'll help him keep up his secret identity for slightly longer than usual. Nat just tells him to keep ahold of her elbow and his cane, and he'll be fine.

"Yeah, 'cause I have you with me," he says with a sheepish grin, and she really does try to roll her eyes as loudly as possible.

Clint greets them at the airport entrance with a wide smile on his face. "Nat!" he says. "And Matt! Have you guys realized your names rhyme? It's catchy."

"Not really," she protests.

"Nice to finally meet you," Matt tells him, holding out a hand that Clint firmly shakes. "I've heard many things about you."

"I hope they were all bad things," Clint responds promptly.

Matt smiles. "Oh, the worst," he tells him, and Nat can see—very vividly—the start of more headaches for herself.

Not that she regrets anything.

Once they reach Clint's car, he throws his keys up and catches them with a distinct jingling sound. "Want to drive there, Matt?" he asks casually. "I'll show you the way."

"Oh my god," Nat mutters, stowing their bags in the trunk.

Matt grins. "I'm not sure if your car could take it," he says apologetically.

Clint frowns, considering. "I mean, as long as you don't drive us off a cliff or something, we should be fine."

"Yes, one of the many cliffs in the middle of Iowa," Matt deadpans.

"I've certainly been in cars with worse driving. Case in point: Nat."

Nat scoffs. "For the last time, we were being shot at!"

"No excuse for bad driving!"

"Oh, I'll pass on the driving, but I gotta hear this story," Matt says with raised eyebrows.

Nat sighs. She just knows this is going to be a very long car ride.

Nate hides behind Laura for approximately 20 minutes before latching onto Matt and refusing to leave him for even a moment. Nat wants to say she feels betrayed, since Nate has been a traitor to her since before he was born, but her fond smile betrays her.

Besides, she's still Lila's favorite aunt. Who needs anything more?

After dinner, Laura announces she's going on a mysterious errand, and Nat scrutinizes her before deciding Clint's an easier target, but Clint too doesn't budge under the weight of her glare, grinning innocently all the while.

"She's going to pick up something they'd ordered from the store," Matt mutters when asked, tilting his head with a considering frown. "I don't know anything more."

"But the closest stores are so far from here!" Nat says, mostly annoyed that secrets are being kept from her, that people are able to keep secrets from her. She guesses that's what happens when the shields between you are no longer needed.

The rest of them play an extremely competitive game of Monopoly (though admittedly not as competitive as that one time the team stayed up all night trying to finish Tony in a six-way Monopoly game back when they'd still lived in Avengers Tower, just floors away from one another). By 'them', Nat means Clint, Lila, Cooper, and Nate and Matt on the same team, with Nate narrating their position and slowly reading their cards out loud, and Matt whispering devious strategy into his ear, causing him to giggle every so often. Nat's on her own team, and by that she means that she's mainly helping Lila and sabotaging Clint at every opportunity.

Cooper wins, of course. It's always the overlooked ones.

Laura comes back with a braille version of Monopoly. Matt looks like he's a step away from tearing up and Nat is honestly not far behind.

She drags Clint aside. "You didn't have to do this," she tells him softly. No doubt Matt is currently saying the same thing to Laura.

Clint smiles warmly at her. "We wanted to," he says. "Your family is mine, my family is yours. I thought we established this."

Nat swallows. "Oh god, Clint. Don't make me cry in front of your kids. I still need to be the cool aunt."

Clint laughs and wraps her in a hug, and it isn't that bad considering Matt and Laura are also in a hug of their own. Maybe their families are intertwined, after all.

(After the kids go to bed, they play another game of Monopoly with the new board.)

(Matt wins after cutting a deal with Clint and coming out of it with sole ownership of a whole color set.)

(Coincidentally, it's the red color set. Matt later claims that he had absolutely no idea. Nat unfortunately has no evidence to counter him.)

They sleep in what is unofficially Nat's room.

Or, they try to sleep.

Matt keeps tossing and turning. "It's just a new place I'm not used to," he whispers to her, and the 'yet' remains unsaid. "At least it's quiet here."

Nat, on the other hand, drifts off quickly only to abruptly wake up maybe three hours later. She sits up, chest heaving and trying to catch her breath, eyes wandering around the room for some kind of threat. And then she groans, burying her face in her hands, because she doesn't even remember what she had dreamt about, even though she had known just a second before.

She lays down again, trying to go back to sleep, but ends up pressing her forehead against the warm space between Matt's shoulder blades and feeling him breathe softly until the sun rises yet again.

No one can ever say she isn't punctual, because exactly a month after that, she finds herself on another plane. Alone, this time, and to Russia, this time. It's a surprise, too, so hopefully no one decides to shoot her the moment she steps onto the property.

Fortunately, when Alexei sees her, he greets her with a huge, warm hug that she sinks into unabashedly. "Natasha!" he says. "What pleasant surprise!"

"I'd hope so," she tells him, smiling a little as she pulls away.

He reaches out to ruffle her hair and she protests as she evades him and walks inside the house, where more than a dozen pairs of eyes immediately lock onto her. She's not entirely sure how the other Widows feel about her, but at least Yelena runs up to her and throws her arms around her tightly.

"Hey," she says into blonde hair. "I missed you."

Yelena sniffs a little, though that could probably be blamed on the cold. Probably. "You didn't say you would be coming," she says, voice muffled by Nat's shoulder.

"I have something to return," Nat says, and dramatically brandishes Yelena's borrowed jacket in front of her eyes.

Yelena's eyes immediately brighten and Nat smiles. "You brought it back!" she says, grabbing onto it and grinning. "You didn't destroy it!"

Nat frowns. "Did you think I would?"

"Anything could happen with you."

Nat would make a rude gesture at her if Melina weren't here.

"Natasha!" she says, more gentle than Alexei had. She walks up to Nat with a soft smile on her face that Nat would like to see more of, because it shows in her eyes, too. She cups Nat's cheek with a hand and looks her up and down, as if checking for injuries. Once she's satisfied, she steps back and says, "I knew you were here the instant you touched foot onto this ground, of course."

Nat nods in mock seriousness. "Of course," she repeats, and gets swatted at for her troubles. Melina missed, though, so apparently she didn't mean it.

The other Widows currently in what is essentially a safehouse for them also greet her; their reception is much more lukewarm, but they don't hate her, which is something.

She isn't actually that insecure of people hating her. Just a year ago, practically the whole world had hated her and half of the Avengers. She's really just insecure about one person, and that is Antonia Dreykov.

Yelena must see her glancing around the room trying to get a glimpse of who could be her enemy (not that she doesn't have reason to be), because she sidles up to Nat and mutters, "Antonia's in the backyard. She likes the quiet. The air's good for her." Nat glances at her in silent question. "She's doing better," Yelena adds, and Nat breathes a sigh of relief because that is enough for her for now.

Dinner is one huge, slightly chaotic affair, what with so many people in the same space, including one who isn't normally on this side of the hemisphere. But Nat doesn't find it awkward. It feels like finding her footing again, finding ground after falling. It feels like the good parts of the Red Room: gossiping in the dark, braiding one another's hair, sharing stolen food and bandages.

"Do you have something to tell us?" Melina asks knowingly, because she will always be Nat's mother and will always be able to see through Nat.

Nat smiles nervously. "Please don't kill me," she says. She wants to scream in frustration. She's not nervous on missions or during interrogations or on death's doorstep. But this is what gets to her? Why in the world is she nervous?

Alexei frowns, unbeknownst to her conflicting thoughts. "Why would we kill you?" he asks. "Would be waste of resources."

Yelena snorts, the other Widows hide their snickers behind their palms, and Melina smacks him lightly in the arm.

Might as well rip off the bandage, Nat thinks. Some of them probably know already, what with how transparent Nat has been as of late. "I may or may not be getting married?" she says with a slightly more charming smile.

All noise in the room immediately dies. Even Melina drops her fork in shock. Okay, turns out mothers don't know every single thing about you.

Then, the other Widows explode into much more excitement than Nat was expecting, than Nat has ever witnessed from them.

"When?" Dunya asks eagerly. Always the romantic, that one.

"Are we even invited?" Yeva points out with a frown.

"Are they an Avenger too?" Arina wonders out loud.

"But are they nice to look at?" Alena says, because obviously that's what matters in a partner.

Nat listens to them all fondly, because they seem so young to her. They aren't naïve, and are just as battle-hardened as her, but she still feels the need to protect them and make them happy. Speaking of people to protect and keep happy...

"Did you skip the dating stage already?" Yelena asks incredulously, and Nat truly isn't sure if the hurt in her eyes is real or not. "And you didn't tell me?"

Nat winces. "Sorry?" she offers.

"Is it too late to threaten them?" Yelena asks with an exaggerated pout. Alright. She isn't actually hurt. Thank goodness.

Nat shrugs. "Feel free to do so. I doubt he'd budge," she says honestly.

"Damn it."

"This seems awfully fast, Natasha," Melina says with genuine concern. "You are still so young."

Nat blinks. "We've been dating for six years," she says flatly.

"Oh, I thought you just found a random guy on the street, thought he was cute, followed him home and decided to marry him," Yelena says.

"Do you think I'm that shallow?" Nat asks, and she's about to laugh before she realizes that what Yelena said isn't entirely inaccurate.

"Maybe? I don't know!" Yelena throws up her hands in defeat.

There's a sniffle, and then Nat turns towards Alexei in horror. "My daughter is all grown up," he cries, wiping away his tears with a napkin that a confused Melina hands him. "Already—" He blows his nose. "Already falling in love with a man, abandoning her old father—"

"Oh my god," Nat says, mortified. Out of all the people to be dramatic about this.

"There there," Melina says stiffly, rubbing his back and letting him cry it out. Yelena silently gestures for the other girls to head outside for a bit, and Nat nods at them, assuring them that she'll answer all of their questions later.

"You know," Yelena says after a few minutes of awkwardly listening to Russia's Red Guardian weep about his daughter's upcoming marriage, "I really thought you would bring a girl home, so I could have another sort of sister, but no, it has to be a guy." She gestures to Alexei, as if explaining the faults of men worldwide.

"Yelena," her mildly conservative parents scold.

"I haven't brought anyone home yet," Nat points out, "and it's not like you're ever going to do the same."

Yelena considers it. "True," she agrees.

"Yelena," their parents repeat.

"Why aren't you scolding Natasha? She's the one getting married without telling us she had a boyfriend in the first place!"

"Don't throw me under the bus!" Nat protests.

"But she is correct," Alexei says. "I do not even know your so-called partner. How do I know he is good man?"

Nat sighs, knowing that all of this concern comes from the heart. "Trust me," she tells him, meeting his eyes. "Trust my judgment, trust that I can protect myself." Not that she needs to. Fortunately, he seems to believe her.

"When I eventually come to visit you in New York, I expect to be introduced," Yelena declares. "Or maybe I'll just find out who he is myself and break into his house. Won't be hard, unless he's an Avenger." She squints at Nat. "Is it Captain America?" she asks after a second.

"No way!" Nat protests.

"That's exactly how someone would react to a correct accusation!"

Nat sighs, throwing up her hands and slumping in her seat before the feel of Melina's scrutinizing gaze causes her to sit up straight. There can be no slouching at this table. "He's not an Avenger," she says. He is Daredevil, a vigilante, a member of the Defenders, but she's not going to tell them that.

"Perfect," Yelena says, planning evil things for her future trip to New York.

"Please don't."

"I haven't done anything!"

"Have the two of you had sexual intercourse?" Melina asks, completely out of left field.

Nat feels her face turn warm. "No," she answers, which is the truth. After years of practically selling her body for missions, she's needed a change of pace, and Matt hasn't asked anything of her, which she's greatly appreciated.

Not that she's going to tell her mother that.

"Tsk tsk," Yelena says, shaking her head. "Sex before marriage..."

Nat rolls her eyes. "What are we? In the middle ages?"

"But does he know? That you can't?" Melina asks, still on this topic, and now Nat can sort of see her line of reasoning. "Does he know you never had a choice? Does he understand that?" Melina's just concerned for her, that's all, even if she's blunt about it like any Black Widow ought to be.

"He does," Nat says, and that is also the truth.

"What are we even talking about?" Alexei asks, effectively ruining the moment.

"Also, gross. Didn't need to know about my sister's sex life," Yelena says, wrinkling her nose in something less like disgust and more like disdain.

"Theoretical sex life," Nat corrects.

"Mine is theoretical, yours is former."

"Not to be inconsiderate, but I would like to change conversation topics," Alexei says desperately.

Nat walks outside.

Antonia glances at her passively before returning her gaze to the setting sun.

Nat sits beside her, and they watch it together.

"Congratulations," Antonia murmurs with the soft, melodic voice that had been taken from her for years. Nat notes that her hair is braided nicely, neatly; one of the other girls had done it for her, or maybe Yelena, maybe Melina. She doesn't really know. She's gone more often than not, and she really hopes that changes.

"I assume you've heard the news," Nat says wryly. "Thanks, but it's okay if you don't care. I don't expect you to care, really."

Antonia turns towards Nat so that their eyes meet for the first time. Rays of sun brush gently against the scarred side of her face. "Can he fight?" she asks abruptly.

"Yes, he's very capable."

"And he doesn't hurt you?"

"No," Nat answers softly, because maybe they are talking about a different person, a dead person, one who still haunts them all.

"Then that is all that matters."

"Is it?" Nat asks. It feels like she's holding her breath.

"We are all Black Widows, after all. We need to take care of one another."

Her scarred face lifts into a genuine smile, and it feels like forgiveness.

I am just as confused as you guys maybe are to see this much fluff and (attempted) humor in one of my fics. I've been in angst and hurt/comfort land for so long lmaooo.

Anyways, here is the long awaited wedding fic that turned out to be a bit more than a wedding fic! It started out as a one-shot that turned into a really long one-shot that turned into a two-shot that turned into whatever this is. It's been a journey. Hope you guys enjoy!