#chalantness

They couldn’t have been more different in their styles.

Was this some kind of a message from Fury? Was she to learn from Steve, or was he to learn from her?

She always did missions alone, the majority of the time even without back up, it was too risky and, hell, she could always handle herself. If she ever did have to work with someone, it was Clint, who knew her so well and she him that they barely had to communicate.

Steve was different.

Steve liked to make plans.

Steve was a leader.

Of course during the Battle of New York she’d seen what he could do and was naturally impressed, but that had been a time when a team and leadership was needed. That was a big, wild open battle where subtlety wasn’t needed at all.

Natasha usually did subtle.

When they met at the appointed time for their briefing, he brought with him a notepad. A notepad.

Maria gave them the details and then left them to it, probably at Fury’s request, and Nat looked at Steve, who looked at her.

Well, she had expected him to dive right in as the Captain, but he just smiled and said,

“So, how would you usually go about this?”

That’s when Natasha knew she had underestimated America’s golden boy.

The mission went surprisingly smoothly, and Nat glanced at him as they stepped off the aircraft that had collected them.

“Do you want to go and get some ice cream?”

“Pardon?”

“Ice cream? Is that what you called it back in the day? Or did you call it something charming like icies?”

He gave that quiet, exasperated, mock-sigh she was beginning to delight in hearing as he smiled and nodded. “Sure. Let’s go get icies.”

It was their first in-joke that they were relentless in it.

“You know what would cheer you up?” “What?” “Icies.”

“Oh, some icies would help with that bruise.”

“Let’s see if there’s any offer on icies at the store.”

“I would just kill for an icie right now.”

Nat was rather surprised by how quickly they became comfortable around one another. 

They became paired with every mission and would always unwind after it by going to his apartment, the Tower, or one of her many apartments. They’d sit on the couch with a take-away or whatever was in the fridge and just talk or watch a documentary he’d read about.

She helped him get through his list of things he’d ‘missed out on’ and recommended a few things herself, most that got a resounding ‘no’, such as silent raves, a normal rave, and starting a YouTube channel.

Sometimes when missions didn’t go as smoothly as expected, they would sit in silence, each turning over in their mind what had gone wrong and how they could have prevented it. Then, when they would realise the other was doing the same thing, they’d look at them and smile faintly.

“… Let’s go get an icie.”

Depending on the weather and time of day, they’d take with them two spoons and go to the store, buy a big tub of ice cream and sit in the park, or go to a diner, sunglasses and hats on, and sit in a corner. They’d order something extravagant and talk or just watch the people around them, people who had no idea of the real dangers in the world, despite what had happened in New York, and quietly feel a small sense of pride that they were protecting people.

They soon began to read each other exceptionally well.

If Steve was sketching or painting, he wanted to be left somewhat alone, so she would sit close by, reading or writing up a report. Sometimes she would just glance up and watch him, watch him concentrating and working. A few times, once he’d sat back and was in the room once more, she would ask if she could see what he was working on. He’d give a slight shrug and say ‘sure’, and she’d stand beside him, looking over every single detail. She liked his drawings. A lot.

If he noted Nat was frustrated or too in her head about an issue, he would offer to go a few rounds in the training room, helping her silently work out whatever was going on.

If Stark was having a party that they’d been invited to, they’d suddenly both be far too busy and would hide in one of her apartments, taking it in turns to pick a film or play board games.

Despite their external appearance of closeness, though, Steve could still feel… something. Some kind of a barrier that stopped him from really getting to know Natasha. He knew it when he saw how she was with Barton, how there was something between them that he didn’t have with her. At first he thought it was romantic affection, but after somewhat awkwardly asking her about it and she’d laughed, for what felt like a very long time, he knew he was very wrong.

Then she told him how she and Clint had met, and it had all made sense.

He’d known there was something about her past, Loki had mentioned a few things when he’d been imprisoned, or so they’d thought, on the helicarrier, but he hadn’t wanted to ask, hadn’t wanted to pry.

He easily could have. He could have asked Barton or Fury but it hadn’t felt right to.

That part of Natasha was for her to tell.

And when she did, the barrier came down a little.

She hadn’t felt judged when she’d told him. She hadn’t really expected to, this was the kindest man she’d ever met after all, but she thought there might have been something, a look in his eyes, or a shift in how he behaved around her, even minutely. But… nothing.

That’s when she thought, quietly, hopefully, that for the second time in her life, she’d made a true friend.

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