I Can Take You Home (A Romanogers Fanfic) COMPLETED

Steve

Steve couldn't help but hope everything would be better now that Yelena had begun to behave way less violent toward him. He couldn't see how this angry Romanova could be related to Natasha, who was calm and observant. But both sisters had a sharp tongue and were very secretive.

  As he walked into Sam in the kitchen, he showed Steve seven butter knives. "Yelena returned these to me. She even apologised, though she looked like she really wanted to kill me."

  "That's my sister, all right?" Natasha entered wearing a black tank top and pink, high-waisted short jeans. Both Natasha and Yelena had gone out shopping this morning in disguise and came back with bags of clothes. Sam had nearly exploded. "Don't worry, once you get to know her, she's actually really sweet."

  "No, I'm not," Yelena responded from the living room.

  "She can also be shouty, and a little overprotective shit," Natasha said louder.

  "You're the biggest piece of shit the whole world's ever seen!" Yelena shouted back.

  "Uh...Language?" Steve squeaked.

  "Oh, come on, you old man." Natasha spun Steve around lightly, her fingers gentle on his body as she checked him up and down. Her fingers brushed his hair, and lingered at his chest a little longer than nessecary. Steve's stomach twisted when she leaned in closer. The air grew slightly hotter around them. He looked at her lovely lips, and found her looking at his too.

  Steve stepped back. "Uh...Natasha?"

  "Oh, um. Sorry." Natasha chuckled nervously and ran her fingers through her perfect red curls. "I was just thinking...you wanna go out at night?"

  "What?"

  "Oooo." Sam butted his way into the conversation. "Is Romanoff asking the famous Captain America out on a date?"

  Natasha turned scarlet, but the color quickly went out her cheeks. "Just...wondering. I'm pretty sure you've received an invitation from Tony? He's hosting a party at Stark Tower."

  "No." Steve frowned. "Not yet."

  "You better go check your messages, Steve." Sam went back to making his pancakes.

  "Who eats pancakes in the afternoon?" Natasha asked.

  "Me that's who." Sam flipped a pancake, and the other side came out with a glorious burn. 'Glorious burn' as in terribly, horribly burnt. He glared down at it, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

  "Where's my invitation?"

  The trio turned to see Yelena leaning against the wall. Her hair was finally free from her signature messy ponytail, running wildly down her shoulders, unlike her sister's neatly curled ones. She had an oversized gray sweater on and a pair of ripped jeans hugged her slender legs. She actually looked pretty, but in a different way. And, as always, she had a permanent scowl on her face. Steve wasn't sure if she ever smiled at all. He would have to ask Natasha later.

  "Come on, don't pull a Maleficent, will you?" Sam grumbled, clearly still disappointed at his failed attempt to make a pancake.

  Yelena scowled even deeper in confusion.

  "I can ask Tony whether you can go." Natasha started fishing for her phone in her pocket. "You're my sister, surely he would agree."

  Yelena's face was as unreadable as ever. "It's fine. I'll just stay here."

  "Don't steal my butter knives again." Sam punched Yelena lightly in the arm, which was very clearly the wrong thing to do to Yelena Romanova.

  Yelena grabbed his wrist, but Natasha quickly intervened. She stirred Yelena away gently by the shoulders, and Steve watched as the older Romanova murmured to her sister, who crossed her arms and harrumphed.

  Steve was almost always wondering how could Natasha talk Yelena from doing something without screaming or fighting. He smiled to himself. Natasha could be great with kids.

  He shook himself. Since when did you think about kids and Natasha?

  Yelena then stomped back to her room, slamming the door behind her.

  Natasha shook her head and sighed.

  Steve went over to her and touched her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

  "The usual." Natasha shrugged. "Telling me to go home to Russia with her instead of staying here with 'morons'. I mean, I really do love her, and now that she's slowly opening up to me...I don't want to lose that again. But home isn't Russia. I honestly don't know where home is anymore."

  Sam came up on her other side. "Home is where the heart is, Natasha."

  Natasha smiled at him. "I know. But my heart does not belong with Russia anymore."

  When Steve looked into her eyes, he could see the dark memories in them clambering over each other to show on her face, but Natasha furiously stamped them down. He rubbed her shoulder up and down, and she surprisingly leaned into his touch.

  "If your sister sees this, you all be damned," Sam said.

  "I'm sure she'll get over it. She may hold a grudge forever, but she can soften around you." Natasha's face brightened a little when her eyes met Steve's again, and Steve felt this unexplainable jump in his heart again. "Come on, let's go."

  "Wait, what?"

  "I went through your wardrobe. You are so not going to dress as an old man to Stark's party." Natasha rolled her eyes at him when he protested. "Lend me some of your clothes. And a cap. And some sunglasses. We're going out, whether you like it or not, Rogers."

  "J-Just the two of us?" Steve squeaked.

  "Isn't that enough? What do you want, a party?" Natasha, without warning, seized his wrist and dragged him to his room.

  Her fingers felt cool around his wrist. Steve felt this sudden urge to take her hand and warm it up. His mind flashed back to the night when he held her close to him. How hard she had trembled. How fast the tears had flowed out her eyes. How she had struggled to breathe. How her fingers had grasped onto his shirt, as though he might just walk away and leave her there, all alone. But he wouldn't. He never could, with those perfect green eyes staring at him with such desperation.

  He thought of Sam. Of how he had mocked the both of them being together.

  He imagined his life with Natasha. Then he imagined life without her. Somehow, that shattered his heart. He needed her, he realized with something like terror in his heart. He was scared, but he was also thrilled to feel the feelings again. To feel the way his stomach burst in delighted butterflies, to feel the way his heart raced faster than he could breathe.

  Somehow, he didn't know when, this mysterious entity had won the special place in his heart. His world had begun to evolve around her.

  A soldier in love with a spy.

  Steve couldn't quite believe that.