Burning

Natasha wiggled her ankle back and forth, doing her best to rush without sacrificing efficiency. She used her own body weight against the floor to push her foot into a heeled shoe while simultaneously pushung an earring through her lobe. Now, if she could just find the second earring in the pair…

She was poking through her jewelry box, doing her best to keep her annoyance at bay, when the door to her room opened. Nat paused, glancing up to see James striding in.

She took a quick moment to size the man up. He didn’t carry any of his usual darkness or tension in his face or body, much to her relief. In fact, he appeared to be very relaxed, and even greeted her with a broad smile. While she had half expected (and greatly feared) the baseball game to be a disaster, it looked as though James had actually enjoyed his outing.

“Hey there,” she called. “How was the game?”

James shrugged. “The game itself wasn’t great. Dodgers lost.” He flopped onto their shared bed, limbs spread, blue eyes raised to the ceiling, and a half smile lingering in his features despite his words. It suddenly occurred to Natasha that she had rarely seen him in such a relaxed, open position.

She let herself breath out a sigh, her own stress dissipating. Sure, she had been in a hurry, but seeing her boyfriend on his back on their bed was too tempting to ignore. Nat abandoned her search for the second earring and climbed onto the mattress to join him.

James’ hands moved as she crept over him, settling onto her hips while she straddled his. She leaned over him, ignoring the way her crimson hair fell into her face, devoting all of her attention to the man beneath her.

“You had fun though?” She continued their conversation, lightly trailing her fingers over his chest, tracing the muscles beneath his shirt.

He grunted in response, eyes lowering to watch her hands as they moved. “It was nice.”

Natasha smiled. “So is this where I get to say ‘I told you so?’”

With a chuckle, James’ eyes returned to her own. “Yeah, I guess so.” One hand moved upward to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear before pulling her head down into a kiss.

“Let me show you how appreciative I am,” he whispered against her mouth. His metal hand drifted lower, over her backside, fingering the edge of her dress.

A shiver of anticipation ran up her spine, and as much as her body wanted to completely surrender to his touch, Natasha pushed herself upward instead.

“I’ll take a rain check,” she replied, swinging herself off his body and back onto solid ground. “I’ve got to get down to the party.”

James groaned and rolled onto his side, propping his head up with a strong arm. “No one’s even supposed to be here for half an hour. What’s the rush?”

She returned to the jewelry box and resumed her search for the missing earring. “I guess the bartender Pepper hired got a flat tire, so I offered to fill in ‘til he gets here.”

“Wouldn’t want to make Stark wait for a drink,” James growled.

Nat ignored him, but finally found her earring and quickly put it on. “Well, how do I look?” she asked, placing her hands on her hips and turning to face her boyfriend again.

His eyes roamed up and down her body, still clearly burning with the desire the two had sparked just a moment earlier. “Like a million bucks,” he finally replied. “A little more… coverage than I’m used to though.”

That made her laugh. She glanced down at the black and silver dress she had chosen. It still showed some of her toned legs, but admittedly less of her shoulders and chest than usual. “You saw that some of the guests of honor are older veterans. I thought a little modesty might be appropriate.”

“Guess so,” James replied with a smirk. “Show too much skin and one of them would go into cardiac arrest at the sight of you.”

“Such flattery,” Nat returned before heading to the door. “I’ll meet you down there. Don’t be long!”

She heard his feet hit the ground behind her as he reluctantly left the bed. “What, is one of those grandpas going to steal you away before I get there?”

Natasha pulled the door open and cast a glance back at her boyfriend behind her. “You never know,” she said with a flirtatious smile. “Ancient veterans are kind of my type.”

His laughter echoed behind her as she left their room, and Natasha bit her lip against her own smile. It was so good to hear him laugh.

——

Natasha’s emerald eyes swirled around the party, her pleasant mood only increasing in the cheerful atmosphere. She was in her element here, her post at the bar a perfect position for her to stay on the sidelines and interact with guests all at once. For a former spy, it was a comfortable way to take in the crowd while staying out of the spotlight. She made light conversation with those who came to her, greeted her friends with smiles and hugs, and flirted a bit with the older guests of honor to get a few giggles out of them. When the real bartender finally arrived, it was with some reluctance that Natasha relinquished her spot. Under the guise of making a drink for herself before being forced to move out from behind the bar, she took an opportunity to survey the gathering one more time.

She had hoped that James’ earlier upbeat mood would also continue into the night. A party full of unknown guests wasn’t exactly his scene. There was little in this world that made him more uncomfortable than coming up with what to say to strangers and forcing a smile at compliments from fans. But, as the saying goes, so far so good, Natasha mused to herself as she watched her boyfriend from across the room.

He was at Steve’s side again, a drink in his right hand, his left resting in the pocket of his black slacks. He wore a button up shirt of light green, and, much to Nat’s relief, he had taken the time to wash his hair and shave between baseball game and party. James looked good when he dressed up a bit. Really good, as she was so fond of reminding him. But the most welcome sight to her eyes was that he actually still looked relaxed. She couldn’t see any tension in his shoulders, no tightness around his eyes, no white on his knuckles where his fingers might have been gripping his glass too tightly.

It almost looked as if he was enjoying himself.

Nat pressed her lips together to suppress a grin as she added a little more vodka to her martini shaker. The ice rattled loudly as she mixed the drink, masking the background noise of music and chatter… and the approach of a friend.

“Looking good,” a voice commented, and Natasha raised her eyes to find Bruce leaning on the bar across from her.

“The drink I mean,” he was quick to add. “I didn’t mean it like… I mean you do look good too, but-“

“Thanks,” Nat interrupted, flashing him a smile of reassurance. A genius Dr. Banner may be, but the man was also a world-class expert at being awkward. “Want one?”

He nodded, and she produced two glasses before straining the vividly pink liquid into them.

“The guys are definitely going to make fun of me for having a girly drink,” Bruce commented before taking a sip. “Oh, it tastes great though.”

That it did. While both heroes sipped their cocktails, Natasha took advantage of the pause in conversation to cast another quick glance at her boyfriend. He appeared to be in a conversation with Steve and Thor, all three men with light eyes and bright smiles. As if he felt her attention on him, James turned his head in her direction. Their eyes met across the room, and his expression faltered slightly. No doubt, she surmised, a reaction to seeing her talking to Bruce. But just as a feeling of unease began to erupt in her belly, James tossed her a reassuring wink before turning back to his friends.

Puzzled by the mixed signals, Nat drew her lower lip between her teeth.

“You’ve got lousy taste in men, kid,” Bruce quipped, interrupting her thoughts.

The boldness of his comment took her aback, breaking her tension, and Natasha couldn’t help but laugh. “How many drinks have you had, Bruce?”

“A couple,” the man answered with a shrug and reddening cheeks. “I just can’t get used to the idea of you with him. He’s so… dark.”

“Oh, he’s not so bad,” she returned with a reassuring smile. “He may seem like a fighter, but it’s not who he is at heart. He’s just a nice, old fashioned guy. Deep down, he’s all fluff.”

Bruce’s eyes dropped down to his drink, and Natasha felt a stab of guilt. She cared for Bruce the same way she cared for all of her teammates. They were like family to her, like brothers. And hurting his feelings made her heart twist into knots. But the last thing she wanted to do was lead him on.

“Alright, change of subject,” Bruce said, knocking his knuckles on the stone bar top for emphasis. “I never got to see that plié.”

Natasha huffed another laugh. “And you never will,” she replied, moving out from behind the bar to join her friend on the other side. She leaned an elbow on the counter surface and shook her hair back from her face. “Those days are long gone.”

Bruce pursed his lips. “But you still like listening to the music? What’s your favorite?”

There it was again. That interest in her interests. Nat sipped her drink, considering her response.

“My favorite ballet is called The Tale of the Stone Flower,” she finally replied, meeting Bruce’s eyes again. “Do you know it?”

The man shook his head before resting his chin in the palm of his hand, his soft eyes rapt with attention.

“It comes from an old Russian story. It’s about a man who finds a flower carved of stone that’s so beautiful, it makes all other things pale in comparison. Food loses its flavor, drink loses its intoxication, even his bride fades into shadow compared to this flower. Life loses all of its sweetness.” She paused, her feeling her smile fade as she glanced down at her drink. “He leaves all that he knows and loves and becomes a slave to it.”

“That…” Bruce stuttered, drawing Nat’s attention back upward. “That sounds horrible. Really sad.”

“Perhaps,” she replied, slowly. She cocked her head to the side, feeling her crimson hair brush against her chin as she considered her next words. “But perhaps the character found something beautiful, something he truly loved, to devote his life to. No matter the cost.”

Bruce’s eyebrows knitted together as he turned his gaze downward and considered her words. “Is that what it’s about then?” he finally asked when he met her eyes again. “Passion? Pursuing what you love?”

“Ah,” Natasha returned, giving a small shrug. “As with any great work, each viewer can interpret what he will.”

She drew her lower lip between her teeth and turned slightly to find James again. He had turned back to his own conversation, but she took another moment to savor the sight. James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier, free of worries, happy, and living in the moment. It was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen.

Turning back to Bruce, her dear friend and brother, whose heart she just had to break, Nat let a sigh escape her lips.

“But I do believe I’ve found my own stone flower,” she finished with a melancholy smile.

She didn’t, couldn’t wait for Bruce’s reaction. She couldn’t stand to see the hurt in those gentle eyes of his. Instead, Natasha picked up her drink and left him without another word, making her way to James’ side.