Thank goodness for the writers of TWS or I never would have thought to come up with this fic!

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When Natasha told Steve that everyone needed practice, she meant it. And who would be better qualified than Natasha to give Steve a little hands-on kissing lessons? Canon divergent.
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Natasha had her feet resting up on the dashboard of the truck Steve had stolen and was watching him carefully. He was nice to look at, she'd admitted to herself. She wanted to know more about him, which was a stretch because she wasn't the type of person to care about what other people did or who they were. Still, he was different. After all, this was Captain America. He wasn't like other people and neither was she.

Finally, after trying her best to think of a way to get him to open up, Natasha decided that the best way for her to find out more about Steve would be starting off with something small. Like, for instance, the truck they were riding in. It was kind of funny to think of America's golden boy stealing.

Looking over at him impassively - or what one would mistake for impassivity if they didn't know a thing about Natasha - she asked, "Where did Captain America learn how to steal a car?"

Steve didn't miss a beat. "Nazi Germany."

"Mm." Of course it was in Germany. Made sense. Natasha had been expecting maybe a little story about how he got to that point. She would have given anything to have actually witnessed him do something so...badass.

Before she could ask him to elaborate, he added, "And we're borrowing. Take your feet off the dash."

His voice had taken on that authoritarian, parental tone that he made when he was trying to sound like a stern. Natasha actually thought it was cute, yet a little intimidating. However, she didn't put her feet down because she was afraid of Steve. She chose to put them down because she realised that she would encounter less resistance from him if they were both in a comfortable place. Although, she honestly wasn't sure there would be a moment when being chased by SHIELD would be comfortable.

Of course, that kiss they both shared to get the agents off their scent was pretty nice. Unfortunately, it was far too brief for her to gauge how good of a kisser Steve Rogers really was. Even though it was a very inopportune time for her to try and probe Steve about his experience with kissing the opposite sex, she didn't care. Natasha wasn't the type of woman who shied away from a challenge just because it was ill-timed or none of her business.

"Alright, I have a question for you, which you do not have to answer. I feel like, if you don't answer it, though, you're kind of answering it, you know?"

"What?"

Natasha couldn't help the half grin that spread across her lips as she said, "Was that your first kiss since 1945?"

"That bad, huh?"

"I didn't say that."

"Well, it kind of sounds like that's what you're saying." He sounded a little defensive.

"No, I didn't. I just wondered how much practice you've had."

"You don't need practice." He was trying to blow off the conversation by being nonchalant, but it wasn't working.

Natasha called his bluff and gave him a sly smile. "Everybody needs practice."

"It was not my first kiss since 1945. I'm 95, I'm not dead." Geez, he was so touchy. With that response of finality, he revealed himself.

"You're lying, Steve. You've never kissed anyone since 1945, have you?"

Steve didn't bother looking at her as he scoffed. "Nat, come on. That's ridiculous."

In Natasha's line of work, she'd gotten used to the tells and signs a person would give off when they were lying: squinted eyes, wringing hands, shuffling feet, forehead perspiration, cleared throats, etc. The point is, Natasha was an expert when it came to reading people. What she could see here was a man who was uncomfortable talking about who he last kissed and when.

It was interesting, how Steve's jaw had become a little bit tighter and he gripped the steering wheel with more force than necessary. An unexpected pang of jealousy ran through Natasha and she sighed, looking out the window. "She must have been some girl..." She said under her breath.

"What?"

"Just tell me, Steve. I'm not going to tease you or make jokes about it. I promise." She paused for a moment before speaking again, "That was the only kiss you've had since 1945." The words came out like a statement, not a question.

The blonde kept his eyes on the road as he said quietly, "Yes, it was."

Satisfied with his response, Natasha smiled triumphantly, but her smile fell once she realised, in hindsight, how much of a weak kiss it was they shared in the mall. Steve hadn't done a lot of moving with his lips when she'd kissed him. Natasha expected that was because he was taken by surprise when she pulled his head down to hers. Had his eyes even been closed at all? She couldn't remember. If only there were some way to recreate the situation and let the moment come back...

They came to a red light and Natasha got an idea. She turned her body towards Steve, angling it so she was on her side. After careful deduction of his facial expression, she told him, "Do you really think that you don't need practice kissing?"

Steve looked at her, cheeks coloured with a faint pink tint. She had to bite her tongue for fear that she would start laughing and give him the wrong impression.

"No, Natasha. I don't need practice. That's like saying people should have an excuse to go out and kiss whoever they want. It would only be a waste of the person's time. If you decided to just practice kissing with anybody, you could end up accidentally having feelings for someone that you don't know that well. It's too risky."

Maybe Natasha was crazy, but from the way Steve was talking, he seemed like he was referring to himself. He did have a good, solid point, though. "I agree. That's why the best way to practice kissing is to practice with someone you're good friends with, knowing that you'll never see them as anything more than platonic. They should be someone that you're compatible with and close to, yet not so close that they would feel uneasy kissing you."

Natasha decided to take a big chance on humiliating the both of them. She scooted herself into Steve's lap, surprising him and making him jump. He gave her a frowning glance, clearly disapproving her action. "Nat?! What the hell are you doing?"

Stroking his shoulder, she leaned forward, her breath mingling with his own. It was difficult to ignore his hands around her waist, but Natasha had a mission and she wouldn't relent until she finished it. "Giving you a little practice~"

Then she pressed her mouth to his slowly and passionately. Natasha made sure to take it easy on Steve since he was relatively a newbie at this. Once he started moving his mouth against hers, the word 'newbie' left her mind quickly. Steve was getting wrapped up in the kiss, his hands gripping her side.

Natasha moaned involuntarily and she touched Steve's shoulder, aroused by how good his lips felt against her own. Not to be outdone, she began to suck on his upper lip, making him moan just as much as she had.

Steve shifted and his hands began to play with her stomach and she had to fight off the giggle that lodged itself in her throat. Not many people knew that she was ticklish, much less on her stomach.

When Natasha felt his hardness brush her core, she grinded against him, delighting in the friction. In Natasha's line of work, she was used to doing her job and doing it well. Sometimes she needed to be a little intimate, but she never had to have sex with her targets. Hell, even when she had to kiss, she was never kissed like this. Steve may have not had much practice, but he kissed like a pro. No, scratch that. He kissed like a lover, making her feel so full and desirable from the attention he paid her.

Unfortunately, a loud car horn honked behind them and they pulled apart quickly, cheeks flushed and breathing heavy. The magic was gone now and sitting on Steve's lap suddenly felt wrong and inappropriate. Silently, Natasha slid off Steve's body and back onto the passenger's seat. She clicked her seatbelt on and looked at the striples on her hoodie.

Slowly, the truck began to move, and neither Steve nor Natasha spoke. It was many, many minutes before her vocal chords started working. "So...that was a lot better than the kiss on the escalator. Not bad for lesson number one."

A cough came from the other side of the truck and Steve's eyes darted from Natasha to the road. He obviously hadn't expected her to say that. It was so difficult holding back the smirk that wanted to form on her face, but Natasha kept it at bay. This was not the moment to tease him.

"Lesson number one?" He croaked.

"Yeah, number one. You have a good technique with your lips and I could sense that you knew what to do with them. Your hands, though, are an entirely different story."

"What's wrong with my hands?"

"Nothing at all, but you just need to know what to do with them. While you were kissing me, your hands were sporadically moving around my body. That kind of thing can kill a mood, so you still need further practice." That was partially a lie because his hands did hold her in the right place at first, but then they began to struggle to keep in one place.

"Oh," he replied, a slight hint of disappointment in his voice.

Natasha licked her lips and turned her gaze away from him to the dashboard. She didn't mean to upset him, but it was the truth. "It's not enough just to kiss. Everything you do has to feel organic, but second nature to you, so it doesn't come off like you're trying to work out the next steps in your head."

To reassure him, she decided to let him know that he was on the right track, but not exactly where he needed to be...yet. "You know a little bit about where to hold someone, but you need to understand how long you need to hold them and when to move your hands. Women like to be touched and caressed, to be held as if they are the most important person in the world to whoever is kissing them. That is what I am going to teach you."

It was hilarious that she was describing the merits of kissing to Steve. From the faint blush on his cheeks and the frank way she was talking to him about one of the most celebrated acts of intimacy, Natasha felt almost as if she were his teacher.

Well, that made sense, really. She was giving him lessons on how to kiss properly. Whenever a person knew more than someone else about something and decided to inform them about it, it was considered teaching.

Natasha Romanoff, part-time kissing teacher. God, that sounded corny.

"And you?"

Steve voice cut through her internal musing and she gave him a glance. "What about me?"

"What do you want?"

Natasha turned to look at him, wondering why he asked her that. Her heartbeat began to pound in her chest and she furrowed her brow, trying to think of what to say. In the back of her mind, she admitted that it would be nice to kiss him. Even if it were only to teach him how to kiss, at least she would get to know what it felt like to have him kiss and hold her like he lo-No. She couldn't think that way. Not now and not about him. It would lead to disaster.

Still, she needed to say something. They reached another stop light and his focus was on her now. If she said nothing, he would think that cared about him and she couldn't afford that. No matter how much she might want to.

"I...just want you to find the right girl, but first, you need to know how to sweep her off her feet when you kiss her. That's why I'm going to give you lessons and prepare you. Unless you don't want to..." She let her sentence break off, letting him know that if he didn't want her help, he was free to refuse.

Looking at him from the side of her eyes, she could tell that he was carefully weighing the pros and cons in his head before replying. Smart man. Even if she never offered this before and never would again, regardless, no man should take the idea of getting kissing lessons from Natasha lightly.

Steve silently made his decision and spoke. "Well, you're trying to help and I'm not arrogant to think that I can refuse it when I know I need it. Sure."

A large feeling of relief ran all over Natasha's body and she couldn't deny attributing it to the fact that she was happy he said yes. "Great! Don't worry, Rogers. By the time I'm finished with you, the girls will be lining up for you like a sale at Kohl's on Black Friday."

He chuckled. "I don't need them all lining up for me. Just one special girl will be fine."

"You're such a romantic, Rogers." Natasha grinned and turned to look out her window again. She couldn't keep looking at him anymore, not after what he'd just said. 'One special girl'. Silently, Natasha cursed the lucky woman who would eventually steal Steve's heart, whoever she was. There weren't many men like Steve in the world.

And once Steve became committed, Natasha would have to forget about these missions with him. It wouldn't be the same. Flirting with him would be inappropriate and she would have to build up walls to protect herself from her emotional attachment to him. Foolishly, she took a longing glance at Steve. Too bad she was already compromised.

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Okay, I know it is insane to start another series when I have three others to finish? Believe me. I think it's crazy too, but sometimes, there are just those perfect stories with your name written all over them and you can't put off writing them. If I waited to write this story, it wouldn't be as fresh and have my unique mark on it if I posted it later. I hope that makes sense. I'm excited for where this story is going to take me and I hope you guys are ready to find out! :D

Lots of love, Phoebe~