Cold as Ice - WinterWidow One-Shots

world goes round

Summary: Natalia may decide to join the CIA, but James still likes working underground as a hitman. They make it work until one of Natalia's superiors asks James to take her down. Then things get a bit messy.

A modern, hitman AU

James knows before she says a word―before she even walks through the front door―that he's in for it, but he still turns to greet her wearing a stupid frilly apron and a smile. It's a miracle he can get a word in at all before she chews him out.

"Hey, doll, how was―"

"Don't you fucking dare."

The door slams behind her and Natalia fixes him with a glare so fierce it would have had anyone else running. Not him, though.

"You shot me," she accuses. James's smile falters. "We have an agreement, James, and you fucking shot me."

It's not funny anymore and as she pulls down the sleeve of her shirt to reveal the bandage, James's gut twists. "Shit, doll."

He flicks the stove off and is at her side a second later.

Despite her anger, Natalia leans into his touch and lets him examine the bandage wrapped around her arm. It's snug and clean so she must have gone to medical, but he still feels bad about actually hitting her. He'd thought that he had missed.

"I swear it was short," he mutters to himself.

"It would have been," Natalia tries to assure him, "if Rogers hadn't tried to push me out of the way. Didn't realize he was actually making it worse."

He still feels horrible. They've been through worse before but seeing Natalia hurt always twists his gut in an unimaginable way. It's worse when it's his fault, no matter how indirectly. This, though, feels a bit too much like it's entirely his fault and he knows he won't sleep for weeks.

"I'm sorry, Nata," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to her arm.

Her fingers wind up through his hair and she pulls him down for a kiss as she hums, "I know. You'll make it up to me, though."

He certainly will, but he's going to give her at least tonight to rest. It's the least he can do after shooting her on her own mission. Damn Rogers for messing up his perfectly-planned, too-wide shot.

"Did Fury at least give you a day off?" James asks when she pulls away.

Natalia groans and lays her head on his chest. "No. He's seen me hit worse so as long as I'm conscious, he expects me in the office."

James frowns. He's met her boss a total of two times: the first, at an official staff Christmas party, and the second, in an attempted hit.

The second wasn't exactly his fault. He had just been doing a job. However, Natalia had given him so much shit for hitting Fury that he hadn't taken the full payment from his client. Luckily, he wasn't in the habit of being unfair and since the job had been to kill the man, James felt it was only right to accept a partial payment. Natalia's anger was a much more motivating factor in the decision, though, if he were honest.

"Would he change his mind if your worried husband asked?" James asks. Natalia snorts and shakes her head, but James already expected the answer.

"He'd laugh and tell you to go back to cooking dinner."

He smiles and after making sure she really is okay, he does just that.

Despite Natalia's injury and the way it weighs on James's consciousness, they have a nice evening in. He does the dishes and she curls up in front of the TV, high on so many painkillers that anyone else would have passed out already. The night is so calm that James almost forgets he has a meeting with a new client in the morning.