The Fire in Which We Burn (Natasha x F!Reader)

Chapter 3: Not So Easily Distracted

Warnings: teasing, suggestive themes, kissing

  "Took you long enough."

"You're a difficult woman to track down, Blaze."

That was rather the point of going on the run and keeping a low profile but you'd left enough clues for Natasha to follow. Hidden suggestions of where you might be heading next, abstract ideas that only she would be smart enough to understand. SHIELD, for all their money and resources, were packed with pen pushing fools.

There were only a handful of agents bright enough to track you down and it was a relief that Black Widow was the one that found you and not the ever aggressive Melinda May. Although, you had to admit, if you weren't playing this game with Natasha that May would definitely be your second choice at SHIELD.

"How's the house?" You twisted round on the bench, elbow resting precariously on the hardwood back, and took in Natasha's demeanour. She was tense - not a surprise, really - but there was a softness in her body, something that could almost be confused for defeat if you hadn't known better.

"Burned to the ground in a big pile of ash. Thanks for that."

You smiled sweetly. You'd done her a favour, really. That was never going to be the kind of life for her. People like Natasha, like you, didn't settle down in fairytale cabins in the woods. Nights under the stars were beautiful now and again but stripping back to be closer to nature wasn't your idea of a peaceful life. Dodgy wi-fi, temperamental water supplies and all those pesky little flies? No, she was fooling herself if she ever thought that suffering was what would make her happy.

The funniest thing was that she knew it too. It was right there in her eyes, those beautiful, intense pools of green, clear for anyone to see. Or perhaps not anyone. Natasha hid her emotions with an incredible façade, a carefully crafted mask that protected her as well as any suit of armour could. Beneath that, though, there were glimmers of truth. After all, the best lies were built on solid foundations. It was just a matter of teasing apart the fact from the fiction to reveal what she really felt.

"Do you fancy a walk?"

"Why?"

"This park is beautiful," you shrugged. "If this is to be the last time I see it, then I should like to remember more than just the shitty little sandbox that children piss in."

Unable to fault that logic, Natasha rose to her feet and you drifted back onto the path together. It was no grand national park, you conceded, but the trees here were full of life. They swayed in the summer breeze, the wind whistled beautifully through the thick cover overhead like a hallowing song.

Yellow and pink flowers lined the path, carefully cultivated over years by the community to bring light and joy to an otherwise depressing existence. You crouched down and plucked a particularly pretty peony from the flower bed - soft white petals, edged in bright pink. Twisting it between your fingers, you asked lightly, "Did you think about me?"

"I'm heading the team tasked with bringing you in."

"That doesn't really answer the question." You spun to face her, walking backwards to avoid breaking your gaze. You tucked the flower behind her ear and smiled brightly. A sight you'd never imagined to see: the lethal Black Widow sporting a soft flower in her hair, skin shimmering in the sun like some ridiculous Snapchat filter. A glimpse into a false life, just another kind of false mask to hide behind. But this was real and she was beautiful.

She didn't flinch as you trailed your rough fingers down her cheek. They'd long since healed over, no longer dark and charred, but the skin never truly grew back properly. It was hard to the touch, callused and uneven, and you felt little of the light brush against Natasha's skin. It was in your chest, in your heart, that you felt the burning fire, the desire to truly touch her, to have her lose herself in your touch.