Cold as Ice - WinterWidow One-Shots

a socialite and a mobster walk into russia

Summary: In which Bucky is one of the leading mobsters in Moscow and dating Natalia, a socialite who looks suspiciously like the youngest Romanov. It's a shame two of Bucky's soldiers kidnap her off the streets and an even further shame that Bucky's not in a good mood.

Natalia was having a shit day. She'd woken up with a banger of a headache and nearly wrung the neck of a man who had the audacity to whistle at her on the sidewalk. By nine in the morning, she had to cancel her evening plans with James because her godfather―of all the goddamn people to ruin her evening―was having an engagement soirée and she was expected to go.

If she hadn't resigned herself to have a miserable Friday by then, she certainly had an hour later. When her assistant called in sick and with a list of things that needed her attention that very day, it was inevitable that her day was going to suck.

Just because she expected it to suck, however, did not mean she couldn't be angry about it. When, by three in the afternoon, her headache still refused to leave and instead moved from the base of her skull to behind her eyes, she decided enough was enough.

Her godfather could live without her attending the soirée that was sure to be full of stuffy socialites. Besides, he was more likely to try and set her up with anyone he deemed eligible rather than enjoy the evening himself.

For all Ivan did to hide her after her family's death, he had a strange way of keeping her from the limelight. Sometimes, she wondered if he stepped too close to the limit on purpose, as a way to remind her which one of them held more power now.

Rather than call Ivan and tell him she wouldn't be coming, she sent him a text. As she pressed send, however, her phone screen stuttered, froze, and then powered off. Dead.

With a strangled curse, she stuffed the device in her handbag. At least now no one could bother her after she left the office.

Reaching for her long winter coat, Natalia draped it around her shoulders and reached to wrap her scarf around her neck. It was December and despite the sun being up, Natalia knew she'd freeze as soon as she stepped outside. With a grumble, she pulled on her leather gloves and stepped out of her office.

Downtown Moscow was as busy as expected, but Natalia didn't hail a taxi. It may have been colder than hell was hot, but she was not about to sit in the back of a public cab. Besides, she was getting hungry and needed to stop somewhere to eat if she wanted to avoid snapping at the next poor passerby who stared too long.

There was no reason for Natalia to turn down the street she did other than a sudden craving for a very specific pierogi. One that she had only ever eaten at the rundown shop James had shown her. For all the shine and glimmer of the restaurants she tended to frequent, none of them even compared to the little mom and pop place.

By the time she finally stepped into the cramped restaurant, her fingers were stiff with cold and her stomach was empty. She'd eaten lunch only a few hours earlier, but the cold always managed to sap her energy in a way that tended to leave her needing to eat twice as often.

She was greeted as soon as she stepped through the door, rubbing her hands together through her gloves and tucking her handbag under her elbow.

"Natalia!" There was a rustling from around the corner and soon an elderly woman appeared with a wide grin and her wrinkled hands outstretched. "How are you, tsarina? How is James?"

"Hello, babushka." Natalia accepted the hug, pressing a kiss to the woman's cheek. "We are both doing well. Working hard."

While Mrs Chenkova didn't know the full extent of James's work, she knew enough that she huffed exasperatedly. Natalia smiled and before the old woman could scold her about how she really should spend time with men of her own class, Natalia asked after her husband.