golden slumbers

It had nearly been a week now, and everyone was starting to adjust to this new, temporary life. Neither of them had spoken of that late night in Natasha’s room, the tension ringing louder than a bell telephone. Natasha seemed unfazed, but Steve still felt his heart begin to race whenever Natasha got near him. Was it possible to psychologically manipulate someone into getting a crush on you? Natasha wouldn’t do that. To anyone else, maybe, but not her family.

It was a sunday morning when Natasha slunk downstairs, oversized black sweater enveloping her.

“Did you take that from my closet?” Steve asked, looking up from his coffee.

“Maybe.” She ran and slipped a little into the kitchen, making Steve laugh. “What? It’s fun.”

“Oh, I’m not judging. I just haven’t seen you this...at ease, I guess, since we got here.”

Natasha climbed easily onto the counter to reach the cereal in the tallest cabinet. She opened the bad, settling herself on the marble top and began to eat dry honey nut cheerios out of the bag. “I’m getting used to the kid. I think we’re getting this parenting thing down better.”

“She sleeps through the night, so that's something to be thankful for.”

“Amen to that,” Natasha said before leaning over to pour a cup of coffee from the still warm pot.

They talked for a while before Romana started crying and Steve went up to get her while Natasha mixed up some formula and got out applesauce for breakfast. They had been instructed to start feeding her solids such as small pieces of fruit and mashed foods while weaning her off the formula milk. Though she was already developed enough to eat all solids thanks to her enhanced body, the scientists at the lab she had been kept at had her on a feeding tube through her stomach. It was vital that she learned how to eat, but everyone agreed it would be too difficult for them to try and teach her how to eat without her ever having used her mouth for food. Thankfully, she was still young enough that she picked it up quickly and didn’t have much trouble getting used to using her mouth. She had been overjoyed the first time she tried solid food in Helen Cho’s office, eating pumpkin flavored baby food. The look on her face had been captured on camera, and it was adorable. As a failsafe, they had a spot lined up at a feeding clinic if things went downhill. Romana would stay there and work with specialists to get used to eating normally (but it hadn't come to that yet, and Steve and Natasha were glad).

They sat at the table together as if they were a real family. Steve reading the paper, Natasha typing away at her laptop, both helping to feed Romana when she seemed to struggle. After breakfast, Steve bathed Romana (he insisted, feeling guilty that Natasha had to do everything while he was at “work” all day). They came back down half an hour later, Romana in yellow shorts and a white tank top. She reached to Natasha, making distressed noises until her foster mother took her out of her foster father’s arms. Though Romana could walk and say a few words, she didn’t like to, preferring to be held and communicate with body language.

The day went by smoothly. Steve played with Romana under the shade of oak trees while Natasha tried to get the boat’s motor running. Ten minutes in, she went inside to change out of her skirt, grumbling about how you can’t do anything in clothes like these. She came back down in shorts and a t-shirt and resumed tinkering and prodding the engine. An hour later, the temperature had risen above a hundred degrees, Steve had taken off his shirt, and Romana was asleep in his arms. He might have nodded off briefly as well, but no one needed to know that.

“It’s working,” Natasha announced, sitting back on her heels, the boat rumbling by her side. “Now, do you want to sink it or should I? Because this thing is more unstable than Stark.”

Steve laughed, getting to his feet. “How about together, just like old days?”

Natasha nodded, climbing into the less than clean boat. Steve followed, Romana now awake, head resting against Steve’s shoulder.

“So if that’s the brake, then this should be the-oh!” the boat jumped forward, and Natasha frantically grabbed for the brake. The boat jolted to a stop, nearly tossing the spy out. “Okay, so maybe this isn’t my forte.”

“Yeah, you think?”

They were about fifty feet from the dock now, eyes of a few neighbors watching them from the docks. “This is nice,” Natasha said optimistically. “It’s hot, there are probably alligators everywhere, I already have six mosquito bites...”

Steve shot her a good-humored glare.

“Kiss me,” she said suddenly.

“What?”

“People are watching. We need to look like a couple.” Natasha leaned over and kissed him. He tasted like orange juice and she tasted like coffee. Her hands slid up his bare chest, Romana reaching up to play with Natasha’s hair from between them. They broke apart. “Hey, you.” She tapped Romana on the nose, making the baby giggle. “Do you think it’s gross when mommy and daddy kiss?”

Romana, of course, didn’t respond. Steve just shook his head. Natasha’s hair was frizzing out of its ponytail, strands sticking to her sweaty skin. It was insufferably hot, the moisture of the air making it feel difficult to breathe.

“You’re something else, you know that?” Steve smiled his lopsided, soft smile.

Natasha smiled back a little. For a second, Steve brought his hand up to brush along her cheek. Then, before Natasha knew it, she was tumbling over the boat, submerging in mossy, dark water. An undignified screech left her mouth, letting swamp between her lips. She surfaced to see Steve cackling, Romana making worried noises and pointing at Natasha in the water.

“I am going to kill you, Steven Grant Rogers!” Natasha seethed, just loud enough for him to hear, but not loud enough for anyone else to hear. “It’s okay baby, mamas fine, everything’s okay,” she said, trying to soothe Romana who was growing rapidly more upset. “Good job, capsicle.”

“Sorry,” Steve said, not looking very sorry.

Natasha rolled her eyes and began to swim to the dock, not wanting to risk tipping the boat by getting back in. She felt Steve’s eyes on her as she boosted herself up onto the weathered boards, perfectly aware of the way her soaking wet clothes clung to her body.

“Like what you see, Rogers?” She smirked.

“I think you lost a flip flop, Romanoff,” he replied, avoiding the question and clearing his throat.

Natasha cursed, spotting the sandal ten feet away from the boat, and even farther from the dock. She dove back in the bayou, cutting smoothly and silently through the water. Once the retrieved her shoe, she swam up to the boat, treading water.

“You got a little something on your-” Steve reached out, wiping some green plant off her forehead. He wrinkled his nose, holding the thing up.

“You know, it’s actually not that bad in here. You should come for a swim.”

“No thanks. Just tell me how to start this engine and I’m getting out of this swamp.”

“Pull the cord, step on the gas, and pray you end up somewhere near the dock.” Natasha dove back underwater, diving low before surfacing again a few feet from the dock. She had always loved swimming, and even though the bog wasn’t really ideal conditions to paddle around, it felt nice. Though she noted, as she climbed up on the dock, she was covered in various plants and bits of wet dirt (mud? It didn’t really look like mud. She didn’t want to think too hard about it). Oh well. She wrung the water out of her hair and watched Steve speed back to the shore, trying to hold Romana and steer the boat at the same time. Romana had cheered up seeing that Natasha was okay, but still wasn’t too happy with the whole situation.

“I’m taking a shower to get all this,” she gestured to her swamp covered body, “off.”

“Have fun!” Steve called, climbing out of the boat. She flipped him off over her shoulder.

She spent a long time under the old stream of water, not wanting to return to the hellish climate beyond her bathroom walls. Finally, she turned off the water when she saw the sky growing dark outside the frosted window. Emerging from the glass stall, Natasha wrapped her hair in a towel before walking out into her room, only to see Steve sitting against her headboard with Romana, reading a book. How Natasha hadn’t heard them, she didn’t know.

“Steve.”

Steve looked up. “Jesus, Tasha! Give me some warning!” He looked away, face turning red.

“Oh, you should be one to talk about warnings. You’re the one who just showed up here.” Natasha walked to her closet, sorting through the already open drawers, retrieving a loose white linen sundress.

“Roma wanted you. I tried to tell her you were in the shower, but she wouldn’t stop crying until we came in here. I think it smells like you.” Steve was still staring at the wall.

“You can look now,” Natasha said after pulling the dress on.

Steve turned around. Natasha was drying her hair with the towel, a slight smirk crossing her face, so slight you might not be able to tell it was there if you didn’t know her well enough. She crossed the room again, settling on the bed next to Steve. Romana eagerly crawled to sit on Natasha’s lap. Steve sat rigidly beside her.

“Relax. It’s just a body.”

“It’s your body.”

“So?”

Steve didn’t respond. He noticed how perfectly smooth her slightly tanned legs were, too smooth to be human skin. He nearly reached out to touch it. “You’re just…”

“I’m what,” she deadpanned.

“You’re untouchable.”

“Not by you, Steve.” She turned, forcing their faces closer together. Noses bumped for the second time that day, breath bot against each other's skin, hot against the already blazing air around them.

“Nat…”

Natasha’s phone rang loudly on the bedside table. Neither one of them moved. Romana clambered off Natasha to retrieve the phone. Natasha took it from her, picking up the call.

“Fury,” Natasha greeted, swiping the video up into hologram form.

“Agents, baby,” he acknowledged Romana, looking at the blue light in wonder. He continued, “ Hope I’m not interrupting anything,”

Steve cleared his throat. “Nope, we’re just talking.”

“Well, we just wanted to check in.”

They talked for a while, reviewing the events of the last few days, informing him of Romana’s apparent health, her eating habits, her developmental progress. Fury told them they had made slight progress on finding whoever experimented on Romana. They’ve heard rumors that it was HYDRA (of course it was, it’s always HYDRA), but they weren’t positive. Field agents were undercover finding out more as they spoke. After half an hour of going over information about the case, they said goodbye. Romana was asleep on Natasha, arms looped around her neck.

“I don’t want to move,” Natasha whispered. “It’s hard to get her to sleep, I think I’m stuck like this.”

“Yeah, looks that way doesn’t it? I’ll bring dinner up here.” He moved to get up, but Natasha grabbed his arm. Something about sitting in the dark alone seemed too scary for her own liking, especially when people were after her baby.

“Stay.”

“We need to eat, Nat.”

“Later. Don’t leave me alone up here,” she pleaded.

Steve sighed and settled back into the bed next to her. He silently handed her her laptop from the opposite night table. She opened it, plugging in earbuds and handing one to Steve. Opening Netflix, they watched House of Cards. It was the only show they both liked. Natasha loved drama and action while Steve preferred historical romances (you can imagine how much he loved Downton Abbey). Natasha watched Criminal minds, Making a Murderer, and occasionally The Bachelor (though she’s rather be skinned and then boiled alive then let anyone find that out). Steve watched Call the Midwife a lot, like, a concerning amount, though lately, he had been branching into The Handmaid’s Tale.

After a few episodes, they both fell asleep, Natasha’s head on Steve’s shoulder, his arm has somehow found its way around her shoulders. Sometime around midnight, Natasha woke up to Romana crying. Steve slept like a rock, so she didn’t wake him. She quietly detached herself from him, carrying Romana down to the kitchen. She set the baby on the counter as she warmed up a bottle of formula. In the meantime, she took some of yesterday’s leftovers out of the fridge. She ignored the rumbling of her own stomach, wanting to feed Romana and get the hell back to sleep.

“I know baby, I know,” She said, doing that bullshit little kid voice she couldn’t seem to turn off. She scooped Romana onto her hip, going over to the microwave to retrieve the previously cold mashed potatoes. Yawning, she fed Romana the potatoes while the formula warmed in the weird milk warmer. It looked like an upright MRI for a baby bottle. After eating, Natasha took her upstairs and changed them both into pajamas. She hesitated, wondering where she was supposed to go to sleep. She finally settled on crawling back in bed with Steve. It was hot enough that even wearing a light nightgown, she still had to sleep on top of the blankets. Romana settled between her and Steve, and within a couple of minutes, they were both asleep again.