True Colors

"So…"

So…

That was Carol's not-so-subtle way of broaching a topic Natasha would've preferred to forget.

"So…" Natasha echoed.
"Been an awfully interesting week, dontcha think?"

"You could say that…"

"So…?" Carol prompted.

Natasha sighed. Time to rip off the bandage.

"Do we have to talk about it?"

Carol shrugged. "We don't have to. I just thought it might help," she explained. "You've been out of sorts since I picked you up this morning."

"Yeah," Maria joined in. "While I wouldn't describe you as 'chatty' per se, you're definitely rocking a whole 'moody/laconic vibe' today. Don't get me wrong, it's super mysterious and sexy, and I'm all for you doing you, but it's really not the vibe we're going for here, hun."

Carol stared pointedly at her best friend.

"And what kind of vibe is that?" Natasha asked, a small grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Oh, you know," Maria floundered. "Fun? It's dress shopping. For homecoming. With the three greatest girls you'll ever meet. What's not to like?"

Carol rolled her eyes. "Ignore her," she told Natasha. "Heaven knows I do."

"You wound me, Danvers," Maria teased, grasping at her chest as though her heart were bursting.

From the other side of the dress rack, Valkyrie rolled her eyes and chuckled. "You're an idiot."

"That," Maria snored, pointing a finger at her, "is rude, ma'am."

Valkyrie merely rolled her eyes again and stuck her tongue out. Maria mirrored her actions with exaggerated emphasis. They both dissolved into hysterical giggles.

Ignoring their friends, Carol turned back to Natasha and grabbed her hand. "Here, come help me with shoes."

"Wait! Where…are…y'all…going?" Maria called breathlessly after them, but it was too late; Carol had already dragged Natasha around the corner and out of sight.

"So…" Carol prompted again once they were alone.

Natasha selected a shoe from the rack and pretended to consider it as she gathered her thoughts.

"Romanoff? Natasha?" The genuine concern in Carol's voice was oddly endearing.

"I don't know what you want me to say," Natasha relented with a sigh. "I used to be this small town nobody. Then I come here and it's like my life has turned into some poorly written teen drama show, and last week was apparently Sweeps Week."

"I guess that's one way of looking at it," Carol offered.

"What do you mean?"

Carol shrugged. "If you're going to compare the last few weeks of your life to a tv show, then I gotta say that you're doing pretty well for yourself."

Natasha made a face.

"I'm serious," Carol insisted. "If your life is a tv show, even a crappy teen drama, then you're the pretty popular girl that everyone wants to be. Or be with, if this past week was any indication. I know popularity isn't everything, but I don't think you realize how lucky you are."

"Lucky?"

"Yeah. Lucky."

Natasha snorted and picked up another shoe.

"I'm serious."

"Okay. Explain it to me, then. How am I lucky?"

When Carol didn't respond, Natasha looked around and found her sitting on a nearby bench, clutching an unopened box of shoes in her lap.

Carol took a deep breath. "It's like this, you have not one but several guys interested in you, all vying with each other just to take you to some lame dance—"

"That I'm not sure I even want to go to," Natasha interrupted.

"But that doesn't matter, don't you see?"

"See what?"

"How easy it is for you."

Natasha threw her hands up in exasperation, fed up with the cyclical conversation. "What are you talking about?"

"Attraction," Carol said quietly, her voice low and grave. "Attraction and action."

Something inside Natasha stopped her from making a snide remark, for which she would be eternally grateful.

"You're beautiful, Natasha. You're beautiful and funny and smart and talented, so it's not surprising that you have all these admirers. You're also exceedingly kind based on everything I've seen so far. I was so impressed by you this week—how you handled everything, how courteous you were with your rejections, but you're a rarity. I'm not going to claim that you don't know what it's like to be rejected because I'm still just getting to know you, but I'm willing to guess that it doesn't play a significant role in your life. If it does, I'm sorry, but I'm also willing to bet that very few people would ever seriously consider turning you down."

Natasha lowered herself onto the bench next to Carol. "I'm sorry, but I'm not sure I follow. Everything you just said about me, all the same stuff could be said about you."

Carol took a deep breath. "I'm gay."

They both sat there for several moments, allowing the gravity of Carol's words wash over them.

"And before you get the wrong idea," Carol said, breaking the silence, "I'm not into you. So, you don't have to worry about that. I'm perfectly capable of valuing your seemingly endless admirable qualities without wanting you."
"You like Valkyrie."

Carol's head snapped up. "What-? How-?"

"I'm observant."

"I'll say," Carol scoffed.

"But I still don't get it. What you were talking about, I mean."

"It's just that, as far as I know, there aren't too many kids at school who are…who are…like me, you know? Not that I know of, anyway. It's not really something people talk about here. So, it's…"

"Scary to admit you like her?" Natasha prompted. "To put yourself out there like that?"

"Well, 'scary' isn't the word I'd use. It's definitely difficult, though."

"Because you're not sure how she feels?"

Carol snorted. "You really do have a way with words, Romanoff."

Then it hit Natasha. Everything Carol had been saying finally fell into place.

"Because of the social default at school," Natasha guessed. "Not to mention the rest of the world," she added. "But because of heteronormativity—am I using that word right?" Carol nodded quietly, prompting Natasha to continue. "Because of that, if I wanted to act on an attraction, sure, I might—at most—get rejected, but at least I have the privilege of assuming the guy is straight. No, not assuming. Knowing. Because it's more socially acceptable for 'him' and me to open about this stuff, especially in high school."

"Bingo," Carol deadpanned. "I know it's gotten a bit easier to be gay the last few years, but there's still a long way to go. A long, long, long way," she added drily. "And I'm sorry; I shouldn't have blown up on you like that. It's not like it's your fault."

"No, no, no. I understand. Honestly, that's why I didn't want to talk about everything that happened this week, 'cause I knew what it would sound like: 'Oh no! All these boys like me! Whatever will I do?'"

Carol laughed—a loud bark that made Natasha grin.

"I'm not quite sure I got that. Can you repeat it? What would it sound like?"
Natasha nudged Carol with her shoulder. "Oh, shut up."

Both girls' laughter trailed off as they settled into a comfortable silence that was broken by the unexpected appearance of Maria and Valkyrie.

"Are y'all done yet? We wanna go try these things on. I'm hungry, and I want a damn pretzel, so hurry up."

"We'll meet you at the dressing rooms in a minute," Natasha informed her. "We're just finishing up."

"Mm. Okay. Don't know how either of you expect to pick out shoes when you haven't picked out your dresses yet, but I guess that's just my opinion…" Maria trailed off as she turned in the direction of the dressing rooms, dragging Valkyrie along with her.

As they left, Natasha was quick to catch the way Valkyrie's eyes lingered on Carol's bent head, clearly concerned with a hint of something else.

"You know," Natasha began once they were out of earshot, "if you were to ask Valkyrie to the dance, I don't think she'd reject you."

"What makes you say that?"

Natasha shrugged. "Call it a hunch."
"Call it whatever you like, but I'm not going to scare her off based on a hunch, no offense."

"None taken. Although…" Natasha paused, an idea rapidly forming that would solve both of their dilemmas. "We could all go together. In a group. You, me, Maria, and Valkyrie. Neither of them said anything about having dates."

"Plus," Carol grinned, "it would provide you with an excuse to give your many suitors." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"And," Natasha continued, ignoring her, "it would give you more time to hang out with Valkyrie. You know, maybe get a feel for where she stands. Or I could talk to her for you…?"

"No, please don't." Carol's eyes widened in genuine panic. "Aside from Maria, you're the only other person I've told," she said quietly.

Natasha was struck once more by the gravity of what had just occurred.

"Thank you."

"For what?" Carol asked, confused.

"For trusting me with this."

Carol shrugged, but Natasha easily detected the effort behind her false bravado.

"It's nothing."

Natasha shook her head. "It's not nothing. That's a big thing to trust someone with, especially when you have the concerns you do, as understandable as they are. Also, I'm going to hug you now, if that's okay."

When Carol didn't object, Natasha tentatively leaned forward and wrapped her in a hug. Carol returned the gesture.

"Thanks," she mumbled into Natasha's hair.

"Why are you thanking me?"

"Just…for being you."

They released each other, and Natasha leaned back to get a good look at Carol.

"For being me?"

"I had a lot on my mind, and you were the perfect person to talk to."

Natasha smiled. "Well, I'm always here if you need to talk. Or hang out. I've never really had friends who were girls before, so I should probably thank you for that, too."

"And we should probably head over to the dressing rooms before Maria marches back over here and drags us there, herself," Carol joked gravely.

Natasha looked around them. "We still haven't picked out shoes, though."

"Well, it's like Maria said, how can 'either of us expect to pick out shoes when we haven't picked out our dresses yet?'"

"Fair enough. Let's go."

"Besides," Carol mused as they walked through the store, "I'm not sure a dress is really my style."

"What were you thinking?"

"Don't know. Think I could rock a suit?"

Natasha made a show of sweeping her eyes up and down Carol's body. "Hm. Totally."

"People might talk, though."

"Let 'em."

"Or do more than talk…"

Natasha slung an arm around Carol's shoulders, declaring, "If they do, they'll have to go through me, Maria, probably Valkyrie, and—I'm willing to bet—the entire football team. Those guys like you, too, you know."

"They do, don't they."

"And if someone somehow managed to get through all of us, they'd still have you to deal with, Danvers, and you—ma'am—are one helluva force to be reckoned with."

Carol grinned. "Damn straight."

*A/N:

1) I am so sorry this took so long. I've been reading a lot lately, and I started a second story (glee, if anyone's interested). I'll try no to let too much time go by for the next chapter.
2) Excuses aside, this was actually a difficult chapter to write, and I wanted to do it justice. I'm still not sure I got it right, so please let me know what you think.