Okay For Now
Strong yet gentle fingers massage her scalp as she holds her head under the steady flow of the hotel sink faucet. She sighs and rests her head against the towel covered rim of the sink. The fingers stop momentarily and one wet hand moves to rest comfortingly on her sport bra clad back. She tilts her head and smiles a little, and the hands go back to wash the last of the residual hair bleach from her now blonde strands. A towel is laid over her neck and a tap on her shoulder tells her she can get up as Steve turns the faucet off.
She lifts her head and flips her hair quickly back over her head, sending a spray of water all over Sam, who has just come through the door, holding a freshly laundered sweatshirt and a cup of tea. He scrubs water off his face with his sleeve and offers her a rueful laugh and an eye roll. She gives him an apologetic smile as he sets the sweatshirt and mug down and takes his leave.
Steve silently holds up a pair of scissors when she turns his way again, and she shudders. Natasha has undergone so many hair changes and colors, this should be no different. But it is. The last time she'd changed her hair for circumstances such as these, she had been running from the KGB. So let's just say this wasn't exactly bringing back any good memories.
She steels herself and gives him a nod, and he starts to cut away a good chunk of her mid-back length tresses. The clumps of hair falling to the ground around her ankles jars her and she jerks her head quickly out of instinct, hearing the scissors slice sharply through her hair. Steve gives her a look as if to say hold still! When she surveys the damage she's done in the mirror, she realizes that the shoulder-length cut they'd been going for has suddenly turned into a chin-length bob. She allows Steve to finish cutting, then towels her hair until it was mostly dry. She pulls the sweatshirt Sam has left for her over her head, then takes the mug of tea into her hands.
Steve looks at her silently as she eyes him innocently over the rim of her cup, eyes wide and searching. What did we do to deserve this? Her expression seems to say. He walks to her and shrugs sadly as if to say I don't know. He gently takes the mug from her hands and wraps her in a hug, pulling her close to his chest with a hand on the back of her head. Her arms go flying around his waist, squeezing tight.
Steve strokes her damp hair comfortingly, rocking back and forth. She leans into him, closing her eyes. She feels safe when she is with him; like they can take on the whole world together and get out with nary a scratch. The pair sinks to the floor of the hotel bathroom in each other's arms. Steve rocks her back and forth. He doesn't know how long they sit there, but after a moment, Natasha's weight goes limp in his arms and her breathing evens out. He slips his arms around her and lifts her up, carrying her bridal style to the bed in her hotel room. He gently lays her down and covers her with a blanket. She rolls over on her side and curls up, looking somewhat peaceful.
He crosses over through the adjoining doors into the room next door where he and Sam are staying, but he leaves them open, just in case she needs something. Sam, sitting on one of the beds, turns the volume down on the tv and looks at Steve. Is she okay? His eyes seem to ask as he tosses the remote down. Steve gives a nod as he pulls his shirt off. Sam nods back and disappears into the bathroom to begin his nightly routine. Steve changes into sweatpants before sliding into the other bed and falling asleep.
A few hours later he is awoken by a dip in the bed as someone crawls onto the other side and slides under the covers. He doesn't open his eyes, just lets it happen. Natasha, clad in her pajamas, scoots all the way over until her back presses against his chest, and she grabs his hand as she falls back asleep. Her head nestles under his chin, a few strands of hair catching on the beard he is beginning to grow. He wraps a gentle arm around her and kisses her hair before falling back asleep. They'd be okay, for now.