Risk

Eight

The following morning, nearing midday, he finally awoke from his deep slumber with one of the worst hangovers. His head pounded mercilessly, his throat and mouth were dry with dehydration and his whole body still felt almost limp as the affects of the alcohol hadn't quite worn off. He was also hot, boiling hot, sweating since he was still in his jeans and shirt from before.

Once he found the courage to pull himself out of bed,  he stumbled to the bathroom and turn the shower on, vomiting into the toilet for several moments until he found the strength to remove his clothes and stand under the cold stream of water. He closed his eyes, leaning against the wall as he let the water wash against him, frowning as he tried to piece together his memories and get his head straight.

I've really fucked up. He thought, rubbing his hand across his face.

Once he'd pulled himself from the shower and brushed his teeth, James got himself changed into sweatpants and nothing else, still feeling the need to cool off as he got a large glass of ice cold water and some painkillers to beat this hangover. He peered through the gloom in the living room, watching Natasha sleep peacefully curled up with a blanket on the sofa, hair fanned out over the pillow. He sat his water down and slowly crawled into the small space behind her, scooping his arms around her so he didn't push her off, but she groaned softly in protest at being disturbed.

"I'm sorry." He murmured quietly, laying still to see if she'd kick him away or welcome him to her makeshift bed.

She sighed softly, moving around until her body faced his. He stroked her back lightly, closing his eyes as she stroked her fingers in lazy circles across his chest.

"You don't have to keep apologising." She yawned, opening her eyes to glance at his face briefly then let her forehead rest against his chest.

"I've only apologised once so far..." he said confused, but she shrugged her shoulders while he opened his eyes again to look at her. She still had her head on his chest, watching her fingertips roam down in new patterns soothingly across his skin along the side of his torso, making his muscles tense.

"For last night, yes. But it's the same fight." She shrugged, resting her hand against his side. "Whatever, I guess. "What future do we have?" anyway?" She quoted him, flicking her eyes up to look at him through her lashes. "I know I said none of that mattered, we didn't have to go out on dates, I was happy that I had you. But...maybe I lied. Maybe I'm not happy with just that, and when you asked me to be your girlfriend, I though you got it."

He was taken aback by just how lost she looked when he stared back at her, really taking a moment to read her. There was a beat of silence where he said nothing, too busy lost in her saddened eyes that he missed his opportunity to explain. She dropped her gaze and slid off the sofa, mumbling something about a shower and leaving him alone once more.

She was far more mature than he was, she didn't need anyone's approval to live her life. He wished he was like that, he used to be like that, didn't he? That was basically what's Tony was trying to celebrate last night, and what Steve had told him. He was better with her, happier but importantly himself.

She was right here, still here, completely head over heels for him and she didn't even need to tell him out loud. She shown it in every way and he'd done nothing but repay her with his own insecurities and try and make her feel as insignificant as Pepper had made her out to be. Fuck what anyone else thought. He had been an ass, and she was right about the whole thing.

**

Once she was dressed for the day, she made a large pot of tea and got to work finishing off her essay, leaving him to do whatever work he needed to in the living room while she stayed curled up in the warm bed. Once finished she ended up taking a nap, waking an hour later when he lightly nudged her awake and kissed her cheek.

"Hey, I want to take you somewhere, actually, it's being demanded. Do you want to come? I can promise a very tasty meal and scenic views along the way." He murmured to her, nuzzling her awake.

She stretched and blinked to look up at him. "What time is it?" She yawned as he checked his watch.

"5:30pm. You've been asleep a while. I left you to it though until I was fully sober enough to drive again."

"Where do you want to go?" She leaned up on her elbows, watching him grin with a small shrug. She raised her eyebrows in response. "You're not going to tell me are you?"

"Nope..."

"Because you know I'll let my curiosity get the better of me and come anyway."

"Yep!" He smiled as she let her sweet smirk grace her lips.

"Smart."

**

She sat in the passengers side, watching them leave the city, heading towards Long Island. He reached over, gently squeezing her knee with a smile. "You look cute."

She smiled softly and looked over to him. "You don't have to do this."

"What?"

"You know what, trying to make sure I'm not mad after everything." She rested her hand over his. "Let's just drop the whole argument for now. Please. I don't want to spend our weekends together arguing."

"It's not just about last night, Nat." He turned his hand to hold hers. "I just want you to know I take you seriously, always have." He kept his eyes on the road as she brushed her thumb along his knuckles, saying nothing. The silence was exactly why Now was the right time to prove it to her.

Less than an hour later, they entered an street full of beautiful houses, making Natasha frown softly before looking to James. They stopped in front of a house painted pale blue as James cut the engine to answer her questioning look.

"Here we are." He nodded towards the house.

A small woman with brown hair appeared in the porch, waving towards them and Natasha looked questioningly at James.

"Who's that?"

"My Mother." He shrugged. "She's been dying to meet you."

She looked towards him incredulously, "You've told your Mother about us?"

"I tell my Mother everything." He admitted sheepishly. "I'm a bit of a Momma's boy, but I'm sure my Dad will tell you that." He shrugged getting out of the car.

Natasha let a small smirk appear across her face before she followed him, closing the car door as he finished hugging his Mother who had walked down the path to meet them.

"And this must be Natasha!" She said, her Brooklyn accent a lot thicker that James was. "C'mere, Doll!"  She enveloped Natasha in a tight hug.

"It's nice to meet you," Natasha smiled as she returned the hug, letting his Mother link her arm through hers and almost drag her up towards the house with James following behind.

"Likewise! You know how long I've been trying to get him to bring you here? Months. Feels like years!" She rambled on, "Keeping you hidden away for himself, I never raised a selfish boy, Lil Jamie."

"Ma!" James groaned at the nickname, but chuckled along with Natasha as they headed inside. He watched the pair of them enter through the door, not missing his Mother's quick wink to him behind Natasha's back as his Father appeared to greet them.

They were the only people's judgement that really mattered to him, because they always wanted the best for him.