Two lonely souls

You couldn’t stop thinking about last Friday and the time you had spent with Natasha. You wanted to get to know her better. She also seemed lonely, at least from an outsider’s point of view and you were more than eager to fix that. She had thanked you for the gift, a discreet silver bracelet with a lone diamond on it, and you saw it peek from behind her fancy blouse the first thing when you stepped into her office that morning. She had glanced down at her wrist and then back at you, giving a soft smile and a nod as a thanks.

You wanted to ask her out, maybe not like that yet but you really wanted to at least hang out with her. You just didn’t know how to do it. Maybe you should do a set up, say something that would catch the woman’s attention. As you thought about your master plan, you bumped into the corner of a desk, hissing quietly as Natasha walked in for the millionth time that day, most likely bringing you another load of work.

“Careful there. You might hurt yourself”, she chided in amusement, walking up to you. “What’s got my assistant so distracted?” You felt your cheeks heat at that as she sat down on the edge of the desk, her tight skirt hiking slightly up her thighs, revealing more of her sheer, black stockings.

“I was, um, thinking...”, you started as you leaned against the desk beside Natasha. “Thinking about all the stuff I have to do today. Nothing special”, you explained with a friendly smile.

“And what do you have to do?”

“Why do you care?” You asked with a raised brow, eyeing her in amusement.

“What? You’re my assistant. I’m being polite”, she retorted with a little snort.

“Well if you must know, I’m baking today”, you said.

“Why?”

“Because I want to, Natasha”, you whispered like it was completely unheard of, stressing her name just to see her eyes widen slightly.

“With who?” She grunted.

“You know, if you wanted to come along you could’ve just asked me instead of interrogating me”, you pointed out, grinning at her widely.

“I don’t want to- I don’t like Christmas”, she stammered defensively.

“What’s baking got to do with Christmas?” You asked, quoting her words from the previous Friday. She chuckled at your response, nudging herself away from the desk and walking to the door.

“I’ll see you after work”, she muttered with a lopsided smile, shutting the door behind her.

“Dork”, you mumbled to yourself, shaking your head.

True to her word, you met Natasha in the lobby after six when the building closed for the day. She approached you from the elevator, her peacoat flowing gently around her legs, her heeled boots clicking against the stone floors before getting muffled by the carpet at the very entrance of the building. She gave you a shy smile as she tugged on her leather gloves.

“Hi!” You chirped maybe a little too enthusiastically, Natasha’s smile widening at your obvious excitement.

“Hi.” Her tone was quiet, a little shy.

“Do you want to walk or take a cab?” You asked, hoping she wanted the latter because your feet were already freezing cold and you were exhausted to say the least.

“I’ll get us a cab.”

The ride to your place was rather quiet, maybe even a little awkward, so you focused on the snow-covered city that flashed by, trying to think whether you had left your underwear on the floor or not. You were nervous to show her your mediocre apartment that hadn’t been cleaned thoroughly in a month or so because of how busy you had been. The way she dressed indicated wealth and you were guessing her own apartment was more than luxurious.

You unlocked the door for her, rushing past her to check the condition of every single room before allowing her to get farther inside. She looked around, noting the smaller details that revealed more about your personality. She chuckled quietly at a picture of you and Wanda that you considered one of your prized possessions. It was an exceptionally well-timed picture of you smacking Wanda with a pillow, the brunette wearing an expressive grimace as you laughed in victory. The picture was at least ten years old and you were fresh teenagers in it, doing everything that was supposed to be done during your first sleepover.

“That’s Maximoff, isn’t it?” She inquired in slight surprise, most likely referring to the fact that the now ginger woman had chestnut brown hair, heavy black eyeliner and a bunch of jewelry on.

“It is”, you huffed with a bright smile. “She’s an exceptionally crappy best friend though”, you joked. “I was supposed to spend Christmas with her but she found herself a husband”, you offered as an explanation even though she hadn’t asked you to elaborate.

“Vision, right?” She clarified and you nodded in slight confusion.

“How did you know?”

“I know things”, she said covertly, giving you a cheeky smile. “So, what are we baking today?” She asked, moving on from the subject as she plopped down onto your worn down couch.

“A gingerbread house”, you revealed as you dug out the required equipment, the dough already defrosting on the counter. You set everything up, beckoning Natasha to come into the kitchen with you. She leaned against the counter, watching you intensely, her green eyes not once leaving your form as you sprinkled flour onto the counter slapping the dough over the floured surface.

“Do you have enough dough for two houses or do I just sit and watch you work?” She asked with a teasing smirk. You scooted over, handing her the wooden rolling pin. You found the arrangement a lot better because now you could focus fully on Natasha, just watching her roll the dough, a rather concentrated frown on her face. She stopped for a second turning towards you, offering her arms to you. You glanced down at her wrists then up at her eyes again.

“Roll up my sleeves”, she ordered, moving her now greasy hands a little closer to you. “You’ll have to open the buttons”, she added as an amused smirk spread on your face.

“Okay, mommy’s little helper”, you teased, Natasha looking rather astounded by your comment but she stayed still, allowing you to undo the buttons on her sleeves.

“If anyone’s gonna be mommy it’s me”, she quipped with an arrogant smile. You scoffed as you started to roll each of her sleeves up to her elbows, fingers brushing over her silky smooth forearms. You felt rather shy all of a sudden, as you finished tucking the excess fabric under her sleeve.

“Thanks”, she muttered, nudging you a little as she gave you an almost flirty smile that made you duck your head to hide your blush.

“Can I play Christmas music or are you gonna turn green and steal all my decorations?” You asked, grinning at her as she groaned, allowing her head to tilt back for a second before she turned to face you.

“It’s your house. You can do whatever you please”, she stated with a gentle shake of her head. She flicked her hand in your direction, puffing some flour towards you. You tried to dodge it but nearly fell over, clutching onto your fridge door to keep yourself upright, sporting a dust of white on your black shirt.

“Hey!” You shrieked in feigned offense, Natasha just chuckling quietly at your reaction.

“Go put your music on.”

Laughing, you snuck away from the kitchen and into the living room to turn on your record player that you usually only used during the holidays because you only had Christmas themed vinyls. You put on ‘Oh holy night’, the gentle piano playing quietly, filling the silence of your apartment as you returned to Natasha’s side. She had flattened the dough into a thin layer, already pressing the cookie cutters onto the surface, denting the dough. You started to peel the edges off the cookies so you could eat the leftover dough but before you could take it any further she swatted your hand away, the piece of dough that you had aimed for your mouth now decorating the wall.

“Natasha!” You yelped out a laugh, the woman shooting a glare at you.

“Hands off my masterpiece.”

Considering how many times she had expressed her disinterest in the holidays, she sure seemed to be enjoying the atmosphere created in your apartment. She was rather concentrated in her work, moving her carefully crafted gingerbread walls to the baking tray. You watched her hog your kitchen from afar, your eyes running up and down her body until you realized that you were staring. There was flour on her skirt and the urge to just go and wipe it away was almost irresistible but after a quick reminder of how awkward it would have been you let go of the image. You couldn’t even be upset with her for doing all the work when she looked so happy doing it. You could tell she was lonely just by the improvement of her mood when around you, and it probably meant the world to her that someone had taken interest in her personal life.

“So, Nat, can I call you Nat?” You asked hopefully. She nodded, turning to look at you. She stopped what she was doing, her hand coming up to her forehead to brush away a lock of red hair, leaving a smudge of flour behind on her forehead. “No, you keep working little elf”, you smirked, bringing your hand up to her forehead to brush away the powder. Her green eyes rose up to meet yours and for a second you felt such a strong pull towards her that it almost freaked you out. Thankfully, you were quick to recover. “I’m just gonna continue your interrogation.”

“Do your worst”, she snorted, getting back to work.

“What’s your least favorite nickname?” You asked, hopping up to sit on the counter, beside her little pile of flour. She gave an odd look at your equally odd question.

“Shasha.”

“Okay, Shasha-“

“Sutchka (bitch)”, she mumbled to herself, unable to keep the corners of her mouth down.

“Who’s your least favorite ex?” You asked, praying you weren’t overstepping because you really wanted to know, needed to know the answer to the bigger question.

“I have none”, she shrugged nonchalantly, continuing to work on the dough as your jaw dropped. You closed your mouth before it could fall off its hinges and gathered yourself so that you wouldn’t make her uncomfortable.

“How come?” You questioned in curiosity.

“You said it yourself. I’m the Grinch”, she mumbled with a somewhat sorrowful smile. Your heart sank. The only thing you were getting out of her words was that she implied herself to be unlovable. You ached to touch her, to bring her into a hug no matter how awkward it would have been.

“I think misunderstood would be a better word for it”, you offered with a friendly smile. “Good thing is you’ve probably avoided all the awkward sex”, you teased, once again hoping to lighten the mood.

“Oh, I’m no virgin”, she smirked, raising one of her perfect eyebrows at you. Great, now you were getting nervous.

“Yeah? Go Miss Romanoff”, you cheered quietly, still waiting for that one little piece of information, your green flag if you will.

“What about your exes?” She shot back, turning the conversation onto you.

“There are two. The first one was a messy breakup and the second a straight up mistake. Long story short, neither of them ended well”, you explained, Natasha nodding her head in understanding. You sighed, giving up on your little conquest. She was probably straight anyway.

“Why don’t you like Christmas?” You asked. Another question you were dying to have an answer for.

“I’m Orthodox. Not very religious, but it roots from there. We have a different kind of Christmas across the pond. Also the holidays are a little too sappy for me.” She handed the rolling pin to you, moving over to go wash her hands before sliding the baking tray into the heated up oven. You started rolling the noticeably smaller ball of dough flat, cutting out a couple gingerbread men and the final wall that was still missing. Natasha watched you cut out long windows to the sides, moving the wall onto the second tray, the redhead placing a few gummy bears for window glasses. By the time all the pieces were finally done and properly cooled down, you and Natasha were spooning ice cream straight from the carton and laughing every now and then at your odd choices in conversation topics. After cracking a couple more stupid jokes with her she really started to loosen up and relax, talking more without you having to prompt her to do so.

“Tash”, you giggled out suddenly, laughing so hard you had to bury your face in your hands. “N’tasha”, you continued, the woman looking more than confused at your outburst.

“What?” She asked, smiling widely herself, not able to keep it together with your ridiculous laughs.

“We- We have five walls”, you explained gathering all the pieces with windows on them. You heard Natasha snort quietly before she allowed herself to really laugh. It was a beautiful sound, low and quiet. You turned to look at her as she arranged the cookie pieces in front of her, her pearly white teeth bared as she laughed at the situation.

“No, no, we can make this work. It’s fine. It’s totally okay”, she muttered in amusement, holding in her laughs. You almost wanted to tell her not to hold them in so you could listen to her laugh a little longer. “I’ll use my engineering brain.” You barked out a laugh at that, knowing full well that your boss did not have a degree in engineering, nor did she have any experience with it. You watched her set up the walls, asking your help at times to keep the structures upright. She struggled to make it work, the house never quite looking right.

“We can just eat the fifth wall, Natasha. You don’t have to shove it in there”, you reasoned, Natasha groaning at that.

“Where’s the fun in that?” She countered with a small smirk. “I’ll fix this. Give me the frosting.” You did as told, handing her the piping bag. She glued the walls into a pentagon shape. It didn’t look very promising, globs of frosting sliding down the edges.

“It’ll hold. We’ll just have to put something there for support”, you said, yanking the frosting bag away from her. “Now, slow down on the frosting. I don’t have any more.” Natasha only chuckled at your comment, adding a bunch of m&ms for decoration. The gingerbread house looked horrible but its looks improved immensely when Natasha dunked it in decorations throwing candy and pink frosting everywhere.

“We should name it”, you stated as you both ogled at your creation from afar, both wearing pensive looks on your faces.

“I would call that Y/N’s house of horrors”, she quipped.

“It’s yours too. Besides, you hogged most of the work”, you pointed out, Natasha only giving you a cheeky grin, not at all sorry for her actions. “That’s Shasha’s house of horrors”, you shot back, Natasha’s smile faltering at the nickname she despised.

“Ew, you can keep the house to yourself”, she sneered, swiping frosting onto your nose.

“Funny.” You wiped the frosting off your face and sucked it off your index finger, Natasha’s gaze dropping to your lips. “But you can’t escape it.”

“Fine. Shasha’s it is”, she groaned in defeat.

She helped you clean the kitchen and to your dismay, before you even knew it, Natasha was leaving. She was digging through her purse as you walked into the living room, carrying a heavy box of Christmas decorations that you had yet to put up. She glanced your way, noting the huge box.

“What’s that?” She asked in curiosity, putting away her phone that she was using to order a cab.

“Just some decorations”, you said, waving your hand as you straightened yourself upright, rolling your shoulders at how heavy the box had been.

“Woul- Do you need help?” She asked, seeming almost hopeful. You shook your head.

“Oh, no, you don’t have to”, you assured with a friendly smile. “I’ve kept you here long enough.”

“Oh, okay”, Natasha said, pursing her lips.

“Unless the Grinch is getting warmed up at the idea of Christmas”, you teased, Natasha giving you a deadpan look.

“Never”, she grumbled, a smile tugging at her lips. She moved to the coat rack and grabbed her peacoat, pulling it on.

“Try not to freeze to death! Bye!” You exclaimed from the living room as she opened the front door, the sound followed by a chuckle.

“I’ll do my best. Bye!” She hollered back before the door slid shut with a loud thud.