Cap Quartet One Shots (Romanogers)

The one with the dance (pt1?)

A/N: pov you discovered you had this in ur google docs after 6 months of not updating. Actually kinda like it, lmk if u want a part 2 x

I reach behind me, contorting my arm into the most unnatural position to try and zip up my dress. I don't want to tear it, it's such a gorgeous, deep red, and it has pockets too.

There's a knock at the door.

"Are you nearly ready? People are about to start arriving," Pepper calls through.

"Just a second!" I call back. "Can you get this zip for me?" She opens the door and stops for a second.

"Wow, Nat, you look amazing," she says with a smile.

"Thanks, Pep," I reply. She approaches me to zip me up, leaving the door propped open, and I get a glimpse of Steve walking past. He's in a navy suit, with a burgundy tie. I can't stop looking at him, until he glances through the doorway to me, when I look down at the floor and avoid eye contact. I don't know why I don't want us to look at each other at the same time, but it does something to my heartbeat that I'm not ready to try and find an explanation for yet.

"There you go, all sorted," Pepper says, tossing her blonde curls over her shoulder. I notice Steve is gone from the doorway. I am distracted by Pepper asking, "Have you got a partner for the dance yet?"

"Uh, no, not yet," I reply. "I'm sure I'll find someone."

"Of course you will, honey, looking like that you'll never be short of a man to dance with," she checks her phone and says, "Sorry, got to rush, Tony's just messaged to say the caterer's messed up the labels." She hurries out of the room.

I'm left alone, so I sit at my dressing table for a moment, checking on my makeup. I re-curl my eyelashes - they never seem to stay like that for more than five minutes - and reapply my lipstick. This party...I don't know how to feel. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love a party; all the drinks, and weird little snacks, and the men in suits, but this one isn't the normal type. It's Tony's annual-
I'm actually not sure what he's celebrating this time. Something birthday related, a very Tony-esque celebration. All I know is that it involves the annual Stark dance, which apparently isn't optional. I wasn't in town for the others in previous years, but this year it seems the other way around. There's only a couple of us from the main group that are around tonight: me, Clint, and Steve. I'm sure Clint will spend the evening pretending to be part of the waiting staff to try and avoid small talk, so it's no use asking him.

I've been planning my avoiding technique for days: I'll stick close to the walls all evening, then, when the dance finally comes around, I'll slink outside and find a shadow to hide in before a man can ask to dance with me. I've never been the dancing kind, not if I can help it. It's great to watch in movies, but I would hate for a man I hardly know to spin me around like that.

I'm adding another layer of lipstick the same red as my dress when a voice comes from the doorway.

"Hey, Nat, so a friend of mine-"

I cut him off. "I've already told you, Tony, I'm not dancing." I don't even turn around from where I'm dabbing on lipgloss.

He sighs and sulks into the room. "Come on, he's a big potential investor, and I-"

"If you've already promised him a dance with me, you'll have to break it." I turn around and stand up. "I'm not dancing with a man I don't know, Stark."

"Well, if you're refusing to dance with any of my suggestions, I'll have Pepper assign you someone based on how your outfits match. I need good pictures for the papers tomorrow." I'm already shooing him out of the room. He holds his hands up as if to surrender and turns around to start to walk out. "And you know, if you hate all the other guys, there's always St-"