Two lonely souls

“Why don’t you ask her?” Wanda suggested as you and Steve sat in the break room opposite of the brunette. You groaned in annoyance.

“Why the hell would I ask her? She hates Christmas. She’s like the Grinch of the office”, you complained, waving your hands in the air in frustration. “Come on Wanda, can we please go ice skating? They just set up the place by Rockefeller”, you whined, Steve eyeing the two of you in amusement.

“I can’t. I already told you”, Wanda shot back. “Pierto is coming to town with mama”, she reminded you with a little frown, tired of how persistent you were being. “Ask someone else.”

“I don’t want anyone else”, you countered, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Then you’re going to have to go alone”, Wanda quipped, her accent shining through as clear as a beacon. She loved lunch breaks because she didn’t have to try to hide her accent, try to hide a very big part of her. No one had explicitly told her to mask her Sokovian accent but it was more than clear to everyone that the customer service was considered better when she spoke “proper English”.

“Fine. I’ll go alone.”

“Go alone where?” A voice sounded from behind you, Wanda smirking at you in a pleased manner. Great. Romanoff. Your break was officially over. “I need these charts organized and printed out for me. A dozen copies should do”,she stated, waving a flash drive into your direction, her gaze occupied by her phone. “And then go get us dinner, you’re gonna work overtime today, Y/L/N”, Natasha, your boss, informed you with a very assertive tone that left you no room to argue. You tossed away your trash, walking over to the redhead.

“Coming right up. You want your usual or something different?” You asked, brushing your hands over your skirt, making sure it was in place after sitting for a while.

“The usual”, she replied, handing you the flash drive.

“Okay, see you later”, you offered, waving your hand to her as you turned around but you halted almost immediately, hearing her rather commanding voice again.

“Going alone where?” She questioned again.

“Oh, ice skating at the Rockefeller”, you answered with a little smile. The redhead was eyeing you up and down in slight disbelief.

“You can skate?”

“Yes?” You squeaked, a little offended. She hummed at your reply, a mischievous little smirk on her face.

“If you can’t find anyone else, feel free to ask me”, she offered and then she was gone, her heels clicking rhythmically against the stone floors.

“But you hate Christmas!” You reminded her.

“Skating’s got nothing to do with Christmas!” She hollered back. You guessed her to be right, but the only reason you wanted to go was the festive atmosphere that the redhead surely knew how to abolish with her snarky comments. You pursed your lips in thought as you walked to one of the office cubicles, inserting the flash drive into a computer, thinking over your options. Two hours later as you were getting her dinner you came to the conclusion that you had no other choice. Sure you could have gone alone but the idea of seeing your boss outside of a work setting intrigued you more than you cared to admit.

And there you were, on a Friday night, sitting inside the changing rooms with Natasha by your side, tugging on a pair of skates. Natasha had brought her own skates, the white leather making them look expensive, which you were sure they were. You tightened the laces of your black rental skates, making sure they were tight enough to support your ankles as Natasha did the same. The atmosphere was a little awkward. You never hung out with Natasha because she was more of a lone wolf type of a woman. Very work oriented. She rarely came to any of the workplace gatherings you and your work friends had and she seemed to be more than fine with the arrangement. You stood up from the bench, kicking your shoes under it before preparing yourself to go on the ice. You really hoped you would both somehow be more encouraged to talk when outside because you weren’t sure how long you could take the awkward glances and painfully shallow comments like “nice weather” and “I’m cold”. You wanted to get to know her, really know her. And who could blame you? She was an intriguing person with her mysterious life that no one knew anything about and the attractive energy that surrounded her.

You stepped on the ice, careful not to slip as you held onto the edge of the rink, waiting for Natasha to follow. You looked around, all the Christmas lights and decorations making you feel all soft and warm inside, the Christmas songs that played quietly in the background echoing in the spacious rink. The holidays always made you feel like you were in a movie, like you lived in some dream land where everything was okay. You heard a gentle sniffle, your gaze snapping back to your companion. She was wearing a long, black peacoat, paired with a brown scarf that was loosely wrapped around her neck. She gave you a small smile before stepping on the ice as well. She skated beside you with ease, like she had done it a hundred times before. You glanced down at her shiny, white skates before bringing your gaze back up to meet hers.

“I take it that you skate a lot”, you blurted out like a nervous teenager finally having the courage to comment on the pretty girl’s skates.

“Yeah. I did ballet and figure skating in high school”, she replied nonchalantly, skating backwards as she waited for you to find your footing.

“Can you do any tricks?” You immediately challenged her, eager to see her do something other than mundane work stuff.

“You wanna see?” She asked as if no one before had ever asked her that.

“Uh-huh.”

She glided smoothly over the ice, mindful of the other people around her before, doing a little pirouette. It was graceful and you could easily see the years of training behind that simple spin. You could also see the shy smile on her lips as she skated back to you.

“That couldn’t have been all. Show me something else”, you encouraged her, skating forward at a slow pace. The redhead beside you picked up her speed, doing a leaf jump a few feet in front of you, circling back beside you.

“That one was a little rusty”, she chuckled, easily falling into rhythm with you.

“Can you do that thing where you sit down in a pirouette and like hold the other foot?” You asked in excitement, wanting to see all the tricks she knew. You yourself could only do a sloppy pirouette that you might or might not land on your ass.

“Oh, a sit spin. Yeah sure, but you’re gonna have to hold my coat”, she said, already shrugging it off her shoulders. She slumped the heavy thing into your waiting arms, her perfume wafting over you as she distanced herself from everyone. You had never explicitly smelled her fragrance, never allowed too close to her but as you breathed in the strong scent you knew exactly who it belonged to. Shaking your head slightly, you focused your attention back on Natasha who was now spinning around quite fast, her fiery hair spread around her, black satin blouse fluttering in the wind as she started to lower herself down into a crouched position, her left hand holding on to her left foot. She tucked her face against her thigh, her speed increasing immensely at the action. You stared at her, mouth agape, watching as she stood up, slowing the spinning before she skated back to you.

“Woah, that was beautiful. You’re amazing”, you beamed up at her, taking in her disheveled hair and rosy cheeks. She grabbed the coat from you, tugging it back on.

“Thank you”, she mumbled softly.

“I can do a pirouette too, you know”, you stated proudly, knowing you actually couldn’t and would only make a fool of yourself but somehow you didn’t seem to care.

“Oh, yeah?” Her tone was playful, something you had not expected from her. She had a very dry sense of humor around the office and her sarcasm usually went right over people’s heads.

“Yeah. I’ll show you.” You gathered a little more speed, careful not to overdo it before allowing your other leg to drag behind, guiding you into a slow spin that probably looked like nothing compared to Natasha’s.

“Impressive”, she stated solemnly. “I’ll give you a solid ten”, she joked, making you laugh at both her and your pathetic performance.

“Are you sure about your score? I sense favoritism”, you teased her, nudging her a little to see how comfortable she was with you being so close to her. She didn’t seem opposed.

“Now, now, don’t get ahead of yourself”, she berated with a cheeky smile. “I told you you were my favorite assistant once”, she stressed, rolling her eyes.

“Once is enough for me.” You two continued to skate around the rink, falling into the most bizarre conversation as you went and you came to the conclusion that you quite liked Natasha when she wasn’t the CEO of one of the biggest companies in the United States. After around ten rounds your ankles started to ache so bad that you had to bite back the grimace that tried to creep its way onto your features every time you kicked your foot to the side to gain more speed. You found yourself enjoying the night so much that you were willing to suffer just to prolong it for a few moments longer.

“So you got any family?” You asked tentatively, Natasha turning her head at you in astonishment.

“You ask me about aliens and then go back to ‘you got any family’?” She asked, mocking your voice and style of speech in good nature.

“Yes”, you replied, like it was more than normal.

“I’ve got my parents back in Russia, but my sister Yelena is here in America. She lives in Chicago”, she explained, a fond smile overtaking her features.

“What about friends?” You pestered on, looking for an answer to a very specific question that you did not want to explicitly ask.

“Clint.” Your heart sank. He definitely sounded like a boyfriend. “He’s my best friend.” Oh, thank God. “He’s an idiot”, she groaned as if remembering something the man had said once.

“What about-“ your skate stubbed the ice and you flew forward abruptly, feeling an iron tight grip on your upper arm. Natasha yanked you back, chuckling a little at the shocked look on your face as you tried to process what had just happened. Her hand lingered on your bicep and the other supported you by your waist, even though you no longer needed additional support.

“Careful there”, she teased. “It’s very slippery.”

“Ha-ha, you’re very funny”, you shot back.

“I try my best”, she shrugged, moving to the edge so you could take a little breather. She offered you her leather-covered hand and you gladly grabbed it, allowing her to pull you to the side.

“Would you wanna go for coffee or something? I think my feet are bleeding”, you whined, trying to twist your ankle to the other direction to alleviate the uncomfortable pain that seared up your calves.

“I can take coffee to-go and walk, otherwise I’m gonna be late”, she admitted, tugging you towards the exit. It took you a while to reply, your mind occupied by the hand you were holding. She was holding your hand, gripping it rather firmly, considering it wasn’t something you ever did with her.

“Late for what?”

“Work”, she mumbled, sounding tired.

“Natasha”, you berated with a shocked gasp. Her head whipped around in surprise at you calling her anything other than boss, Romanoff or Miss. You caught on to your little blunder, if you could even call it that. It would have been weird to call her Romanoff at a skating rink after goofing around for over two hours with her, so you went on. “It’s nine pm. How do you have work?” You questioned with a worried frown as you moved into the dressing rooms.

“CEO stuff. The world keeps turning”, she stated dramatically and you snorted.

“Maybe get another assistant?” You suggested, yanking off the skates, finally able to wiggle your toes freely, the feel of the solid ground beneath your feet more than welcome.

“I already have one”, she replied with a little smile.

“Yeah, but another one.”

“I don’t need anyone else.” You disagreed with that statement. The poor woman was doing double the hours that you did in a week.

You walked to the nearest coffee stand that happened to be a cute little trailer-cafe and bought your coffees. Natasha took it black and you took a latte with two candy canes and when she wasn’t looking you slipped the other into her coffee, the curve of it hanging over the edge of her paper mug. She glanced down at the piece of candy then up at you as you looked around the city lights and up into the darkened sky. She decided she wasn’t going to be mad about it. As you studied the night sky you noted a few flakes floating down and you just couldn’t hold in your excitement. You didn’t know if Natasha liked snow, you didn’t know if she liked winter, but it was December third and you had been waiting and waiting for the snow to come because you knew nothing worse than not having a white Christmas, and now it was finally there.

“It’s snowing. Natasha, look!” You exclaimed in excitement, pointing to the sky where the snowflakes were becoming more and more frequent. She didn’t like snow as much as she felt like she should have with her upbringing and motherland but the smile it put on your face made her smile as well. She cast her eyes at the sky as you two walked down the street. The huge white flakes floated down from the sky sticking to whatever surface they found, until the sky was painted white with how much it was snowing. You were smiling to yourself, your coffee long gone as you sucked on your candy cane. It was finally cold enough for the snow to stick around and you felt light as a feather. Everything was going to be okay. You glanced to look at Natasha nearly choking on your piece of candy at how beautiful she all of a sudden looked, not that you hadn’t noticed it before. Her wild curls were covered in snowflakes, the white a gorgeous contrast to the redness of her locks. Her light green eyes shone with the city lights and for once she was wearing a smile that wasn’t a cocky smirk, a defense of some sort.

“It’s my birthday today”, she said into the silence that you two had shared for a while now. That was another occasion when you nearly inhaled the entire slippery cane. Maybe you should put it away for now.

“What! Why didn’t you say anything?” You exclaimed, maybe a little too loud. “I would have gotten you a gift or something.”

“Exactly why I didn’t tell you”, she hummed. “I don’t really care for birthdays or holidays in general”, she explained as you snorted quietly.

“Yeah we know. Did you know they call you the Grinch at the office?” You turned to look at her, taking in her reaction as she shook her head gently, a smile on her face.

“Fitting.” Thank god she had a sense of humor. You were a little nervous about offending her with your comment. Also it happened to be so that you were the one who named her the Grinch, but that you would rather keep to yourself.

“Well this is me”, Natasha stated stopping in front of a tall, old building. You sighed heavily, the reality settling in again.

“I had fun with you”, you stated with your bright and goofy smile, the corners of Natasha’s mouth rising ever so slightly at your perkiness.

“Me too”, she admitted, a little shy.

“See you on Monday.” She nodded at your words, already accessing through the high security door. “Bye, Natasha!”

You felt all warm and fuzzy even though the cold wind was nothing but ruthless. The ground was already white with snow and more kept coming down. You smiled up at the sky, feeling so at peace with yourself as the bustle of the city quietened around you. You thought about taking a cab but decided to pop in your earbuds and walk home, listening to the most depressing, beautiful songs you could find, your happiness fading into a melancholy feeling of safety.

On Monday morning Natasha opened the door to her office to find a small, wrapped gift on her desk with a tiny card next to it, saying:

Happy Birthday Romanoff, whether you like it or not.

She grinned at the box, no more than the size of her palm, sitting down into her wheely chair, continuing to stare at the package. She hadn’t received a gift in years.