Captain On Ice

Chapter 2

And there was nothing she could do. For the first time in years, Natasha Romanoff sat down and cried.

It was exactly the way Natasha fell asleep that Tony Stark - of all people - found her. Her body was slumped on the supple leather chair, curled up into a ball of dark ginger hair, a white tank top, and a loose-fitting pair of sweatpants. He slowly and gently approached her form, curious as to how she wound up in the most vulnerable position he had ever seen her in. Standing beside her for a moment, Tony was stumped. Should he wake her, or should he let her sleep? Being Tony Stark, he chose the third option. Quickly checking the room, he pulled out his phone, kneeled down next to her, and stuck his tongue out, the phone's camera pointed at the pair of Avengers like the barrel of a gun.

"Do it and die, Stark."

Tony leapt up from his place on the carpet in pure panic, only to realize that the Widow was already out of the chair, arms folded across her chest with a stare that could - and probably has - killed.

"Good morning, to you too, sunshine," he grumbled, trying to hide his mini-heart attack. He chanced a look into her eyes, and he immediately regretted it. Somehow, Natasha was able to convey her exact thoughts through a simple facial expression, and this one was her I can kill you a thousand ways with a tissue look. Great. He had managed to piss off a master assassin before noon. Not the first time, he noted to himself. "What's with the sweats? Cat suit a little too stuffy for you this morning?"

Natasha glared at him.

"Hey, have any of you guys seen my sidear-" Clint barged into the lounge, clearly frustrated. He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of his two teammates in what seemed to be a one-sided battle to the death. "Umm... maybe I should go. To the kitchen. Yeah, I'm going to the kitchen. For breakfast. Do you guys want breakfast? You probably don't want breakfast. I'll just... go," he stumbled over his words, knowing it was best not to interrupt Natasha during these types of situations. Or ever. She was the most dangerous woman he knew.

"No need for that. I have business I need to attend to," Natasha replied to Clint. "Remember, I can end you," Natasha hissed to Tony as she crept away, just loud enough for Clint to hear. In a flash, she was gone, leaving Tony and Clint staring at each other in a confused daze.

Somehow, Natasha found herself at Steve's door. She didn't intend to, though, honestly. Her legs just carried her there, and before she knew it, she stood just outside the super soldier's bedroom, carefully evaluating her options. Open the door? Go back to her room? Knock? Unfortunately, she didn't have the chance to choose before the door opened, and Steve collided with her body. She was about to tumble to the ground when Steve took a firm grasp on her shoulders, effectively steadying her. She was standing inches from Steve, his steady breath warming the top of her head; she only made it up to Steve's shoulder.

"Agent Romanoff?" Steve asked quizzically. He stepped back quickly, realizing how close he was to her, and the slight tinge of pink that reached his cheeks did not go unnoticed by Natasha. He raised his left hand to his head, carrying a pale blue towel with it, and he wiped his hair, which was dripping with water from his most recent shower. "I'm so sorry, ma'am. Are you okay?" Natasha just gave him a look of reassurance, letting him know she was fine, before speaking.

"Captain." She was short with him, not quite knowing what she was going to say. She hadn't even intended on coming to Steve's room, let alone having some sort of speech prepared. "Listen, I think we need to discuss the contents of last night's encounter," Natasha blurted out, never one to be subtle. A frown crossed over Steve's face, but Natasha could also spot something that resembled relief. He had been carrying this on his chest for a while, so she would not have been surprised if he wanted to take some of the weight off.

Steve sighed a little, knowing he was defeated; he always caved for women - not that he didn't want to upset them, but he had no idea how to talk to dames even to do the simplest task of refusing their wishes. He silently thanked himself that the dames had never thrown themselves at him back in the forties. There was that blonde-haired woman, but that was different. He loved Peggy, but she was gone. She gave him the strength to refuse that blonde woman's... offerings. When he was first defrosted - as Tony called it - he immediately inquired about Peggy, fearing the worst. He found that she was alive, and Bruce mentioned something about a nursing home, but that wasn't his Peggy. That was someone else's Peggy. Maybe he should call her anyway. This world was so lonely without her. Or Bucky. Or Howard. Truthfully, Steve was still alone. Ever since he made the decision to bring the nose of the plane down, he was alone.

So when Natasha Romanoff arrived at his door and offered to listen, he figured maybe, just maybe, he wasn't alone anymore.

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