AN: This was the first full story I had ever written (and it showed. Did it ever.) and I have felt for quite a few years that it deserved a complete rewrite. To old readers: If you enjoyed the old version then I hope you can like this one too. And to new readers: welcome! Lastly, to both readers: let me know what you thought and drop a review!

Another important note: this was originally written in 2014 so it's set sometime after the Winter Soldier but a mix of canon from the mcu and comics are used.

"Thought you were better than this, Captain."

Steve looked up at his opponent, his muscles burned with the exertion of the fight, but his determination stayed strong. She had him pinned on the ground, only taking a second to catch him off guard before she flipped him over. Steve had fought many times in his life, from when he was just a scrawny kid trying to get a few punches in in an alleyway, to his current mantle as Captain America, but he had never fought anyone like this. He had at least a foot on her and a reasonable amount of weight too, but she was smart, knew where to hit. The fight had been neck to neck, but he was ready to end it. Using all his strength, he managed to free himself from her grasp and have her pinned to the mat.

"What was that you were saying, Nat?" He asked, a smirk on his face as he hovered over her.

"Showoff," she said, shoving him to the side playfully.

It was early in the morning when Steve made his way to the training room in SHIELD. He had already woken up while the sky was still dark, and went for a run bathed in the orange and red light of the rising sun, then went back to his apartment, had breakfast and made his way to SHIELD. The normal. His routine was calm, easy, and not at all boring. Not even a little. With his bag slung over his shoulder, he pushed the glass doors open, expecting to find an empty training room as usual. But he quickly found that he was not alone when he spotted Natasha expertly stretching her leg out on the bar against the mirror. Instead of going a few rounds with a punching bag, they had sparred the entire morning, the hours passing by quickly as they practiced.

Now as they were done for the morning, he had got to his feet and offered her a hand up. She accepted it, rising up with a grace he had never seen anyone besides her exhibit. "Good match," he commented, handing her a water bottle before grabbing one for himself.

"Its been awhile."

She was right, he couldn't remember the last time they trained together. There was a time in Washington D.C. when Steve would see her from early in the morning to late at night, working together on missions and keeping each other company in the time in between. When everything went down, getting Bucky back with a fate worse than death, SHIELD and everything Natasha had come to know since the KGB collapsing, knowing Steve died for nothing when he went into the ice all those years ago, it only brought them closer in a way he never expected. Then they were coming back to New York, back to their home and she was taking a step back when he wanted to take one forward. And suddenly, their little team was not just them anymore. It was back to their lives with Clint and Tony, and the rest of their team... and then there was Sharon. He still saw her often, was still her partner. But it wasn't the same.

"Well, my schedule has just been cleared up for who knows how long."

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"Sharon and I decided to go our separate ways," he said, eyes going to the ceiling. It was embarrassing talking about it, like they were teenagers instead of a superhuman and an agent. Besides, he didn't know why, but he felt strange speaking to Natasha about Sharon. Like the two had to stay separate in his mind.

"Hey," she said, her voice taking a soft edge that was rare for her. Not the pity, Steve thought to himself as she put comforting hand on his arm. This was not what he was expecting from Natasha of all people. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he shrugged. Perfectly fine. She raised a delicate brow at him as her hand fell back to her side. "I mean it," he insisted. "Sharon is- she's great, she is, but..." He trailed off.

"Wasn't what you wanted?" She offered.

"Not even close." There was a lull in the conversation as they tread into a conversation neither of them wanted to have. Everything that was unsaid hanging over both their heads, both knowing their lives would be different in that moment if she never walked away from him in that cemetery in Washington. "Thinking about going to Tony's party tonight?" He asked, steering the conversation to a safe topic.

If Steve didn't know better then he would've thought she looked relieved instead of impassive, but he was sure he just imagined the relaxing in her shoulders. "Thinking about it."

"I'd like if you came," he said.

"Tempting," she hummed. She slid her arms into an oversized red jacket, the fabric hanging off of her as she zipped it halfway. She must have stolen it from Clint or maybe Bruce had it tucked away until she found it. She was always beautiful to Steve, even in a sports top and leggings with a jacket that was too large for her and her hair tied up on top of her head. Her beauty was apart of her charm, and it wasn't unusual for her to go undercover in glittering dresses and intricate hairstyles. But Steve liked seeing her without all of it -even if she always took his breath away when she was done up- like he was seeing a side of her that not many got to. Steve was lost in thought as he watched her, her voice not registering for a few moments when she spoke again. "Keep trying to persuade me."

"I'll be there," he offered.

Her eyes went to the ceiling as she pretended to contemplate her choice. "Guess I have to go," she agreed.

He couldn't stop the smile on his face, even though he knew he probably looked like an idiot. It had been too long since he had spent time with her outside of work, and he didn't like the distance that grew between them in the few weeks he was with Sharon. "Need a ride?" He asked.

"I wouldn't mind one." Her phone beeped loudly, and she frowned as she looked at the screen. "I got to go, Fury isn't going to like it if he has to text me twice to meet him."

"Wouldn't want that. See you tonight?"

"Pick me up at seven," she confirmed. She gathered her things, and Steve watched her leave, a comfortable familiarity washing over him.

It was almost exactly seven o'clock when Steve made his way to Natasha's door. He stood there, his hand stayed raised as he contemplated knocking. Should he wait a few minutes? He should wait a few moments. Showing up at the exact time she told him was odd, it had to be. This is ridiculous, he thought to himself as he finally knocked.

Or maybe he should have waited another minute.

The door opened after what felt like much longer than only a minute or two of pure agony on Steve's end, and she greeted him with a smile, her lips painted red. His eyes roamed down the length of her before he could stop himself, her dress was simple, black with thin straps that ended just above her knees, but it took a considerate amount of effort on his part to tear his gaze away. "Hey, Soldier."

"You look beautiful, Nat," he blurted out.

"You don't look too bad, yourself," she said. If she noticed him staring, of course she did nothing went past her, she didn't say anything about it.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets as they walked down the hall, trying to keep his distance even as her shoulder brushed against his arm. "Do you think it's going to be tame tonight?" Steve asked. The elevator doors slid open and he tried not to look too deeply into the smile she sent his way when he let her enter first.

Their reflection stared back at them from the elevator doors. Tension was etched into his every muscle, his shoulders stiff and jaw set tightly. Steve had never been exactly gifted when talking to women, he fumbled with almost every word and most of his encounters with them they were in the lead. But it was different with Natasha, she was his friend and for some time he hoped she would be something more than that. He knew her, was comfortable with her. But it felt like they were back at square one, her, beautiful and unattainable, and him, awkward and nervous. Frustrated with himself, he tried to relax. Accepting his invitation to the tower with him, it felt like something more, like it was a second chance to have her back in his life. How? He didn't know. But staring at their reflection, seeing them together, it made him think.

"Are we still talking about Tony?"

"Well Pepper's about a few months short of having a baby," he pointed out. "I'm sure a loud party is the last thing a pregnant woman wants to deal with."

The elevator ride went quickly, and before he knew it they were walking out the door and into the night. It was cold that night, the winter air stabbing at his bare skin making him glad he had put on his leather jacket in addition to the blue button up he chosen for the night. His gaze went to Natasha, while flattering, the dress left her arms and legs exposed to the cold. The cold was more than unpleasant to him, it was flat out terrifying as it almost never failed to drag him back to that memory. Because of the element, Steve had to freeze to -what he thought was- death as he lay in the frigid waters and it was not something he could ever forget no matter how hard he tried. Yet it only took a glance at Natasha before he was shrugging his jacket off, openly welcoming the cold just for her comfort.

"It's Pepper. Nothing can hold her back, even pregnancy- hey, Steve, no," she started as she caught sight of him. "This is nothing, keep your jacket."

He felt the argument on his lips. The wind gets rough on the bike. I don't mind, really. Just until we reach the party. But he kept them to himself, his mother taught him the meaning of the word "no" and he would respect it no matter how small the situation. So he pulled the fabric back up to his shoulders as they walked to his bike. She seemed pleased with his ride, but she quickly frowned when he passed her a helmet. That was something he was not going to take no for an answer for.

"You never wear a helmet," she complained, not taking the offering as he held it out between them.

"I only have one, and it's going to you," he insisted.

She did not seem amused as he placed the helmet on her head and secured the clasp. It was distracting being that close to her, but he tried not to think about it and focus at the task at hand. "You did that on purpose," she accused.

"Helmet hair isn't a good look on me."

"I'm sure."

He got on the bike and tried to focus on the street ahead of him and not on the floral scent of her perfume when Natasha followed suit. She's ridden with him before, hell, she has driven his motorcycle before, but it felt different that time. He couldn't shake the feeling that something important was happening soon. The feeling had came to him before, when he set foot on that plane and something deep inside him told him it would be significant in his life. It led him to that moment, on a bike in a Brooklyn that was not his own as a woman that he felt something he did not completely understand just yet wrapped her arms tightly around him, and that feeling was back. Something big was bound to happen, and as Steve started the engine and began the path to Stark Tower, he could only hope that it was something good.

Stark Tower had always caught the attention of the entire city, and it never failed to being in a crowd when Tony opened his doors to a select few. Unlike the Galas or charity events they often attended, it was free of reporters or important figures they would have to impress. The team could be themselves for a night, free of responsibility and the constant pressure of being heroes. Steve needed that sometimes, and knew the rest of them did too. It was refreshing, walking into the tower side by side with Natasha without a photographer blinding him with a camera or a reporter asking him about an absurd rumor that was nowhere near true.

Tony greeted them instantly when they stepped out of the elevator. He was doing well, after tying the knot with Pepper a year before Steve had not seen the man anything less than overjoyed since. Now as they were expecting their first child, he had even more of a reason to his positive attitude. When he caught sight of them, he had pulled both of them into a hug with enough enthusiasm that almost made it seem like he was waiting for them specifically despite inviting so many guests. Steve felt welcomed to say the least, and returned the hug with a hand clasping on Tony's shoulder. It felt nice, finally getting along with him after their rocky start.

"Impressive turnout," Natasha commented, eyes inspecting the room around her. The party was held on the usual floor, an open space with a bar and a generous amount of seating. A balcony surrounded the bottom floor, making the space intimate even as it was crowded with people.

"What can I say? People love me."

"Debatable."

"Where's Pepper?" Steve asked. He was used to the sight of Tony and Pepper together, they were a team in every way. Steve admired that, hell, he wanted it, was happy that someone else had it.

"Socializing somewhere. You've got to see her she looks beautiful."

"No doubt about it. How far along is she?"

"Going on four months," Tony said proudly. There was a brush against his arm, so light he almost thought he imagined it. As he looked to his right he was met with an open space where Natasha had been standing, and his eyes went to the crowd as he tried to find a flash of her hair or the sway of her dress. But there was nothing, she was gone. Just like that. "It's freaky how she can do that," Tony commented, getting Steve's attention once more.

"Wonder what the rush was."

"She must hate kids," Tony guessed, "Even if mine is going to be the cutest kid that's ever existed."

"Natasha doesn't hate kids," Steve said. Did she?

"They're not for everyone," he shrugged. "C'mon, it's a party. Go mingle."

Mingling, as it turned out, turned into Steve seeking out Sam rather than finding a new face to become familiar with. Time passed easily between the two of them as they claimed the pool table, going through a few rounds as they drank the fancy beer that Stark had stocked the bar with. "Are you always this bad, or are you just distracted?" Sam asked. Steve watched as the eight-ball rolled into the pocket and declared Sam the winner. For the third game in a row.

"What do you mean distracted?"

Sam motioned his head to the bar and Steve's cheeks burned. "You've been looking at her for the past hour." When Steve said nothing, he sighed. "Don't make me say it, Man. I didn't say anything when you showed up with Natasha but-"

Not this talk again. At that point Steve should just wear a shirt proclaiming that he just got dumped, because he was getting damn tired of talking about it. "But," Steve said, "It doesn't matter to Sharon what I do anymore."

"You mean?"

"Yeah."

"Never took you for someone who rebounds that fast."

"It's not like that," Steve protested. Despite his denial, his eyes still went to the bar. Natasha stood behind the counter, laughing at something with Maria. Suddenly, she looked up and instantly caught his eye, and she offered him a small smile and a wave before turning back to the conversation Steve couldn't hear. Not like that at all.

Natasha had grown to like parties over the years.

She used to hate them, the constant threats all around her in the crowds and the commotion. It was different now, she was no longer a scared teenager in the Red Room, forced to pull on whatever dress she was told to and to make up her face to add years to her appearance. It was a clear contrast from her past, Steve showing up to her apartment, all smiles and compliments instead of a superior agent coming to collect her. Tony greeting them sincerely and telling them to enjoy themselves instead of being pushed into the lion's den alone with a target and a purpose. No, those days were behind her. Even if they didn't always feel as far away as they should have been. But in times like this, being surrounded by people she had grown to like, it did help the illusion that she wasn't as damaged as she knew she was. And it seemed like she wasn't the only person who thought that.

She had felt Steve's eyes on her the entire night, years at SHIELD never did improve his acting or his discretion. She wondered if he knew how easy he was to read. She's thought about it, how much emotion he showed, how much he felt, and how anyone could see what he felt for her. She convinced herself it was innocent when she showed up to the training room that she knew he used every morning, that she had only wanted to see him for a few hours and nothing more. But even she knew it was selfish to accept his invitation, to lead him on. All of it hit her when they walked in together, even if Steve was oblivious to the stares directed towards them, she was not. She knew what they all thinking, could see it in their faces as she scanned the room.

Why would someone like Steve want someone like her?

Taking a step back had helped, the space between them making her feel less suffocated almost instantly. Unfortunately, that also meant the loss of Steve, of the time she had looked forward to spending with him in favor of comfort. Worth it to her, but maybe she was the only one who thought so.

She noticed Steve's absence right away, thinks she may know where he was headed.

In the midst of the party and without Steve by her side, she had managed to weave through the crowd and to the elevator unnoticed. Once in the elevator, she could get a clear view of the room. Each and every one of them had an opinion of her, but only a few actually knew her. Knew anything more than what she had exposed of her past while taking down Hydra. She was more, had to be more. Would spend every minute for the rest of her life trying to be better than she was. Yet, as the elevator doors shut, leaving the crowd behind as she came face-to-face with her reflection, a thought occurred to her.

Why did she care what they thought of her?

The elevator glided up a few floors, top of the line Stark technology ensuring that it was a smooth ride. At first glance, the rooftop seemed empty; the doors sliding open to reveal a picturesque rooftop as the city shone in a warm, welcoming light. But as she stepped into the open space, she could see him clearly leaning over the railing, his eyes staring straight ahead. He didn't noticed as she stepped closer to him and even jumped a little when she spoke. "There's a party going on downstairs, you know," she said.

He turned, smiling slightly when he caught sight of her. "Then what are you doing up here?" He asked.

"Eh," she shrugged. She joined him at the railing, and could instantly see why he chose the spot. The city was on display for them, the tower providing the perfect position to see it all. "The company down there doesn't compare to the one up here. Besides, you can't beat this view."

"Couldn't agree more," he said, bumping her shoulder with his own.

"So why are you up here sulking by yourself?" She asked lightly.

"Sulking."

"Is that not what you're doing?" She pointed out.

"It's just," he broke off with a laugh, "Who says that?"

"Would you have preferred brooding, moping, despondent?"

"I'd call you a dictionary except all those words have different definitions, and I'm not doing any of them. Just wanted a break," he explained.

"Something bothering you?" She asked. His shoulders slumped as he met her eyes, and he looked sad and even a bit drained as he looked down at her. She thought he was going to say something, could have an idea of what it could be even if she didn't want to talk about it, but he stayed silent. Drop it, she told herself, it wasn't the time. But... But even if she didn't want to talk, he clearly did. She owed him that much, at least. She hated that he did that, made her want to be a better person. "Tell me, Steve."

"You have to know, Nat. Everybody already does, even Sharon."

"I'm not good for you, Steve. You deserve someone better, and you're going to find someone better than me." And he would, anyone would be lucky enough to have him, even if very few deserved him. Natasha sure as hell didn't.

He laughed then and ran a hand through his hair. "I wish you saw yourself like I saw you, Nat." She opened her mouth to argue but he kept talking. "I don't know all of your past, but I know you and the person you are now. I've never met anyone as selfless and compassionate as you, and you shouldn't believe the things you think about yourself." She didn't know what to say to that so she kept quiet. Something warm was sliding over her and she looked over to see Steve wrapping his jacket around her. A peace offering, she guessed. "If you tell me that you don't feel anything for me, then I'll respect it. We can just go back to normal," he promised. He took one of her hands in both of his own and looked at her in a way that was more intimate than she was used to. "But if you do feel the same way, then I'm all yours, Natasha."

He never used his head, his heart always dictated all his actions; he wasn't thinking ahead, to when she'll disappoint him somehow. Natasha wasn't the suburban type, could never give him the perfect cookie-cutter life that he probably wanted. And yet, she didn't have the heart to say no, couldn't lie to him. But she couldn't give him the answer he wanted either.

"Steve, I-" Ding! The elevator doors opened, a group of party goers spilling out as their talking and laughing filled the rooftop. She remembered when he started dating Sharon, and she thought she lost him. It felt like a missed opportunity and it took her some time to recover from it, but that feeling was back. Like she had just missed a life changing moment.

Maybe it was for the better.

"Can we go back downstairs?" She said instead.

He looked disappointed as he slowly released her hand. He nodded, swallowing hard as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, c'mon."

"No mortal man can handle this."

"Sounds intimidating," Steve said, tipping his cup forward as Thor dumped the contents of a silver, decorative flask into his cup. The honey liquid swirled around the cup like a whirlpool as Steve twisted it around. He rose an eyebrow at the smell of it, it had the normal sharp scent of alcohol but somehow even more concentrated. Natasha wrinkled her nose slightly when he brought the cup down to her to investigate.

"And you, Natasha?" Thor asked, swishing the remaining liquid in his flask audibly.

"Why the hell not," she shrugged, holding her cup out. Both Steve and Natasha shared a look before taking a sip. At first taste, it was sweet with a honey flavor that Natasha didn't mind as it touched her tongue, but a strong bitterness followed that was almost difficult to swallow. Steve seemed to agree as he coughed and looked at the cup as if it offended him. "Like it?" Natasha asked, smiling up at him.

"It's terrible, but it can get me drunk," he reasoned.

"Well," Thor said, clapping a hand to his back. "Then my work here is done." He took his leave then, off to mingle with other party guests, but not before adding more mead to Steve's cup. And winking at him. Natasha pretended not to know what he meant by that.

"Can't get drunk, huh?" Natasha asked, hopping onto the bar and sitting with her legs crossed. Steve took a seat in the chair closest to her. The tension between them from the roof seemed to melt away, leaving the usual comfortable dynamic between them. Just how they used to be, she got what she wanted. Even if it didn't feel that way.

"Serum doesn't allow it," he explained, taking another sip of his drink, that time without grimacing.

"Don't know how you manage."

"The rest isn't so bad. Not having asthma is always a plus," he mused.

"I'm sure the pecks are always a bonus too."

He chuckled, leaning into her as his shoulders shook. Already she could feel the effects of the alcohol, and she decided it had been too long since she had felt that light, airy feeling. She could see the effect on Steve too when their hands met between them and neither pulled away. She hadn't given him an answer yet, but she knew she should say no. Knew she should stop leading him on.

She looked away from their hands, only for her eyes to land on Pepper and Tony. He was down on one knee, saying something to the swell of Pepper's stomach but Natasha couldn't make it out. It was, as much as she didn't want to admit it, touching, and she found that she couldn't look away. Steve turned and followed her line of sight, a smile appearing on his face as he watched them. Unlike Natasha, he was able to turn away, but she stayed transfixed on them.

"You ever think about having kids?" He asked suddenly.

No. It wasn't a possibility for her anyway. Though she was curious about Steve's answer even if she had a feeling she could already guess it. She could picture it, a few kids hanging off of him, taking them to their little league games, he'd probably even drive a minivan. He was a dad through and through. "Sometimes," she shrugged. "Do you?"

"It would be nice," he stated, leaning closer to her. Knew it. "But I don't think it's for me," he said suddenly.

"What do you mean by that?" She was genuinely curious, she had been so convinced on what he wanted.

"Marriage, a family. Just seems out of reach after the ice," he shrugged. "I would love to have those things but it doesn't seem like the life I was meant to have." There was more to it, something he wasn't telling her. He had to be bothered by it, there was no way he couldn't be.

The worst part was that it filled her with a sense of hope, hope that they could be together. Hope that she'd be enough.

His thumb made small circles on her hand. "I didn't freak you out, did I?"

"No," she shook her head. "I asked."

"Nat, look at me," he said gently. She did, and could feel herself losing reason as she stared into the clear blue of his eyes. "I didn't mean I wasn't open to marriage or kids, or even that I wanted them," he said, stumbling over each word. He hadn't done that in some time, be nervous when speaking to her. She would've been amused if it weren't for the subject. "I don't want to set any expectations, or scare you away, but I'm open to anything that happens- if something happens. I should stop talking," he ended, running a hand through his hair. He turned red all the way to the tips of his ears as he blushed in embarrassment.

Natasha didn't have anything to follow up that, didn't think anyone could. It didn't scare her away, in fact, it did the opposite. If he was okay with never having kids, then maybe he really could want her. "Agree to change the subject?" She offered.

"Yeah," he breathed out.

"Steve," she found herself saying, even if the logical part of her brain was telling her to stop, "Thank you for inviting me out tonight."

"Anytime, Nat."

It was well into the night when the party cleared out, leaving only the avengers gathered on the couches. One joke led to another, which led to a bet as Tony questioned the science behind Thor's hammer, and before they knew it they all turned their attention to mjolnir displayed on the coffee table before them. Tony had tried lifting it, all his confidence going out the window as his grip slipped off the handle and he lost his balance. When he demanded that someone else try it then, Bruce had given it a shot. He had barely hidden his grin as he walked up, he did try, all of two seconds before leaning back and imitating turning into the Hulk. He looked around, ready for laughter but was met with teasing from his teammates. Steve thinks Clint might have tried too, but it wasn't long before Tony was up again, and even with Rhodey's help, it wouldn't budge. Steve watched from his place on the couch next to Natasha, with his arm around her and her head on his shoulder it felt familiar in a way it never did with Sharon.

"Gonna give it a shot, Cap?" Tony asked, still intent on someone figuring out the "trick" behind it.

"Go," Natasha said, in a voice that sounded completely different than her normal one. It reminded Steve of the sweet lilt she spoke with when they were undercover in D.C. and she cheerfully informed the electronics store employee that they were engaged. But the way she pushed him up was entirely the Natasha he knew.

He shared a look with Thor, the other man playfully challenging him as he gestured to the item in question. "Alright, guess I have to," he conceded.

Wrapping his hands around the handle firmly, he braced himself before lifting. He expected it to stay firmly where it was, like before he had the serum and could barely open a door on his own. Now lifting just about anything barely took any effort on his end, but he doubted mjolnir would be the same. He'd give it a go and sit back down, but-

It felt lighter than he was anticipating and he could've swore that it shifted. But then it weighed down, almost pulling Steve down with it. Quickly, he released it, to the disappointment to those around him. The shift must have gone unnoticed by them. Good, he was too drunk to deal with anything on that level, whether it be teasing or congratulations. Probably teasing. Except as he locked eyes with Thor, the other man winked before laughing, "Nothing!"

Slightly embarrassed, Steve sat back down and hoped no one noticed the slight red tint to his cheeks. He almost jumped when he felt Natasha's lips to his ear. "You didn't fool me," she whispered, making Steve blush even harder. "Always so modest," she sighed, leaning back against him.

"Natasha, want to give it a try?" Thor asked as everyone's eyes turned to her.

They encouraged her, but when Steve looked to her she looked almost... sad? But the expression was gone quickly, and she only laughed before saying, "That's not a question I need answered."

"Always so modest," Steve teased, low enough for only her to hear. They both missed Thor laughing as he easily picked up mjolnir and even gave it a flip.

"And I think I've had enough tonight," Tony declared, looking only slightly wounded that he didn't outsmart a piece of metal. "You're all welcome to thank me for providing you with rooms in my tower so you don't have to haul your drunk asses home," Tony said, rising from the couch. To no ones surprise, he didn't receive a "thank you," just Clint tossing an empty plastic cup at him. "Goodnight to you all too then," Tony huffed, making his way to the elevator.

Sleep sounded more appealing to Steve in that moment than it had in awhile, but something was keeping him tethered to Natasha and not following his team like he should have. He didn't want to leave her side for a minute, and without his inhibitions he was considering asking her to stay up with him. Just the two of them. He was so deep in the thought that Thor clasping a hand on his shoulder startled him, even if he didn't show it. "It's not the right time."

"Come again?"

"Mjolnir. It didn't go unnoticed. Even if you are worthy, it's not the time yet."

"Yeah, I'm hoping no one else saw that," Steve said, eyeing everyone entering the elevator. And hoping Natasha wasn't with them.

"I respect your modesty... even if I don't understand it. Have a good night, Steve."

Steve swallowed, realizing Thor's departure had left him alone with Nat. She was at his side, wrapping an arm around his. "Planning on staying?" Steve asked.

"Think so. Beats getting a cab this late."

"Mind if I walk you?" Thor's words echoed in his head, not the right time. He couldn't help but apply it to his current situation. it seemed like he was always waiting for the right time, only for it to pass him by without even giving him a chance. He remembered Peggy, and only thinking ahead. To when the war was done, to when they were free of their responsibilities, to when they could be together. Then he took a nosedive into the ocean, and she was laying in a bed somewhere fighting Alzheimer's after living her entire life. And he was here, with Natasha. Something told him that she was special, and that he shouldn't miss her again. "I'm not ready to say goodnight yet."

"Then don't."

Steve didn't know who leaned forward first, all he knew was that Natasha's lips were on his and that they were pulling each other closer. Time seemed to stop, and he didn't know how long it had been before Natasha pulled away. An apology was already on his lips, but Natasha was speaking before he could get it out. "We should stop."

"I'm sorry," he said sheepishly.

"Don't be," she said quickly, " I think we should sleep now."

He nodded and offered her a hand up. Quietly, they walked hand in hand to the elevator, and they remained in silence as Steve walked her to her door. He felt an urge to apologize again. He stuck to his word, and he meant it when he said he'd back off if she didn't want him. She never said no, he thought to himself. But she never said yes either. He knew he had to let go of her hand, he did, but he just wanted a few more moments with her-

"Did you mean what you said earlier?" She asked suddenly.

"On the roof? Yeah, yeah I'll back off. I'm sorry-"

"No, about what you thought... of me."

"You know I did, Nat. All of it," he answered. Something in the way he said it confidently and without hesitation made something flicker in her eyes. He'd seen it before. When they were on the run and had taken refuge in Sam's guest room, when he promised her that he trusted her.

Natasha was the one to lean in then, but Steve didn't hesitate to kiss her back. It was wrong, he knew it was wrong. They should slow down, do it right. But he could never think straight around her and the alcohol still heavy in his system wasn't helping. Nothing was stopping them from rushing into the room and continuing their night in private, and Steve couldn't think of any reason why they shouldn't. And, he guessed, neither could Natasha. It wasn't until after, when Natasha was asleep in his arms and sleep had almost completely consumed him, did he stop to consider what they had just done.

AN: Don't forget to leave a review, and if you read this the first time around, let me know!