day six
Steve woke up the next morning with his face in a pool of baby drool. He woke up face to face with the black widow. It took him a moment to remember how he and Natasha had fallen asleep last night. He noticed she had changed, meaning she got up, and then came back into bed with him intentionally. The thought made him blush.
He looked around the room, looked at the early morning light filtering through the sheer curtains. It glanced off Natasha’s flame-red hair, illuminated her skin in patches. He tried to ignore the gentle curve of her breast under the thin silk fabric, tried to ignore the way it slid up enough that he could see a hint of her black lace underwear. He turned away, face hot. He shouldn’t think of her like this, especially when she isn't conscious enough to adjust herself to reveal less skin (though even if she were awake, he doubted she would move). So he stared at the ceiling, and when that got boring, he stared at his phone, and when he was bored with that, he got up and went on a run.
He changed into shorts and a T-shirt, texting Natasha that he would be back in an hour. It was only six in the morning, but it would be waiting for her when she woke up.
He ran through their neighborhood twice, three times, and it had only been thirty minutes. He stopped in a little park, taking a moment to breathe before doing step-ups on the bench. Soon enough, another man jogged by and stopped in the park. Steve ignored him but felt extremely conscious of the gun strapped to his leg under the baggy shorts. The man stared at him. Steve smiled awkwardly back. Finally, he took out an earbud and paused his music.
“Can I help you with something?”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to stare. I was just wondering if you were new in the neighborhood, haven’t seen you before,” the man replied. “I’m Liam Smith, by the way. I live down Blackberry.” Liam gestured to a street behind them.
“Yeah, I am, actually. My wife Hillary and our baby girl just moved here. Sorry, I’m Aaron Mesa. Nice to meet you,” Steve said, sticking out his hand for the stranger to shake.
“Nice to meet you, Aaron. You know, I feel like I know you from somewhere. You been on the news lately?”
“No, you must be confusing me with someone else.” Steve was getting nervous. Anyone who realized their identity would be taken by SHIELD until they knew Romana was going to be safe. This man didn’t deserve to have his life turned upside down.
“Must be. Hey, my family is having a neighborhood get together pool party kind of thing this Sunday if you and your wife want to come. We’re the blue house with the range rover over there.” He pointed down Blackberry Lane again, this time indicating a specific house.
Steve hesitated. On one hand, the more people they were around, the bigger a chance their cover would be blown. On the other hand, this was a wealthy neighborhood full of stay at home moms and dads. People were bound to get nosy if the Mesas never left their house. “Sounds fun, we’ll be there.”
“Great! Well, I’ll see you then! My wife, Layla, will be excited to meet you. She’s always looking for new members for her book club,” Liam said.
Steve cringed at the thought of Natasha sitting in this guy’s living room, talking about the latest romance novel with eight other women. “I’ll mention it to her. Ah, I’ve gotta go. Almost time for work.” It wasn’t near time for work yet, but Steve wanted to get out of here before Liam recognized him for who he was. Maybe he should consider growing a beard or something.
“Nice to meet you!” Liam called as Steve ran away. He threw the other man a wave over his shoulder and ran a little faster.
When he got through the door, he was greeted by loud music. He frowned, following it to its source. In the kitchen, Natasha danced, pancakes and eggs solidifying on the stove behind her. Romana sat on the counter, entranced by her mom. To be honest, so was Steve. At a certain point, he recognized the song as Bossy by Kelis, a song frequently heard coming from Natasha’s bathroom in the compound while she showered. He caught himself smiling. She just looked so free, mouthing the words into the handle of the spatula, pausing occasionally to flip or stir the breakfast on the stove. Romana was giggling. Natasha turned and took her hands, moving them to the music. She fluidly switched from the dancing he had seen her do in clubs, in some of Tony’s crazier parties, to classical ballet, turning five times on the kitchen floor before lifting her leg out of the turn, then going back to moving her torso in a way that made her look liquid. The only reason she hadn’t noticed him yet was that her eyes were shut and the music was turned up loud enough to deafen the average person, even one who had to endure the amount of yelling in the avenger’s compound on a daily basis. Seriously, for a bunch of superheroes, they all got scared pretty easily. At this point, no one even spoke normally anymore. He’s pretty sure Sam and Clint haven’t said anything that wasn’t a shout in at least a month.
The song stopped, and Natasha turned to him. How she knew he was there, he didn’t know. The woman could have heard his heart beating and he wouldn’t be surprised. She showed no sign of shock at seeing him in the doorway, but a blush colored her already flushed cheeks even further.
“I didn’t see anything,” he said, putting his hands up. “How’s my girl?”
For a second, Natasha thought he was talking about her, but Steve crossed the kitchen to pick up Romana, who gurgled happily. Steve put his arm around Natasha’s shoulders, kissing his make-believe wife on the forehead without a second thought. Natasha froze. They didn’t need to pretend to be a couple behind closed doors, but she wasn’t going to complain. It was nice to have a husband and a baby, even if they were only children playing house. So she wound her arm around his waist, offering up her cup of coffee.
“Thanks. We got invited to a pool party next Sunday down the road, what do you think?”
“Might as well go, it won’t hurt to be seen in public a little more,” Natasha replied, looking over the steadily waking neighborhood.
“Liam says his wife wants new members for her book club, so maybe you’ll make some friends,” Steve suggested with a chuckle.
Natasha swatted him on the arm. A book club. Yeah, right. Granted, she was bored out of her mind. She ran on the treadmill. She did her strength and conditioning routine. She showered. She watched TV. She made dinner. She did the exercises again. She played with Romana. Romana took a nap. Natasha folded laundry and watched more TV. She read books to Romana. She called Clint, and sometimes the other Avengers. The routine was horribly dull. She wanted to punch someone! She wanted to remember what it felt like to pull the trigger of a gun! She wanted to break bones and take the lives of the evil! Maybe it’s been less than a week, but god, it felt like forever. At least there was always paperwork she could be doing.
When Steve got home every night, It felt like Natasha could breathe again. It wasn’t that she didn’t love spending time with Roma. She did. But it was difficult to be watching her and making lunch or dinner and doing everything else that needed to be done. She couldn’t look away for one second when someone was trying to hurt her baby. When Romana napped, Natasha had the baby monitor sync with her watch (Stark’s newest model, used by all the Avengers to monitor vitals, communicate, and everything else they need) so she could monitor her while she did other things. If there was any movement in Romana’s room outside of the crib, alarms would go off to notify Natasha, Steve, Fury, Maria, and just about every SHIELD agent in the tri-state area. They had to turn off the system when they entered the room, but it would rearm itself in ten minutes if they forgot to turn it back on.
“Take your kid. I have pancakes to flip,” She said, handing Romana to Steve, who gladly accepted her into his arms.
Natasha cooked silently while Steve sat on the floor of the dining room playing with Romana. Occasionally, Natasha looked up, the laughter of her “family” putting a smile on her face. Soon enough, a stack of pancakes was piled on a plate, and a bowl of eggs was steaming on the counter. Natasha brought them into the dining room, doubling back to get plates and forks. As much as it bored her, being a housewife was kind of fun. She never got to take care of people before, never got to be responsible for a child and a husband. She liked it, as long as she could escape to run laps around the yard every now and then to burn off energy. Good thing Romana took most of it up.
“Food,” Natasha announced.
Steve buckled Romana into her highchair and gave her eggs and a little pancake. He cut them up into tiny pieces so she wouldn’t choke, because “that’s what good parents go, Romanoff”. For a while, they ate in silence, occasionally showing each other a video on their phones, or making a comment about the news. Half of Romana’s breakfast was on the floor by the time Steve went upstairs to shower. Natasha picked Romana up out of the chair, settling her on her hip with one hand and bending down to pick up the spare egg and pancake with a napkin.
“You are one messy baby, you know that?” Romana giggled. Natasha rolled her eyes. “Sure, it’s funny to you, but you don’t have to clean around here.”
Soon enough, Steve came downstairs dressed for work. Natasha followed him out the door, ever playing the loyal wife. She handed him a fresh cup of coffee before kissing him goodbye. He flushed but kept it together. She had to admit that she was blushing a little, too. They had never had any real kisses, only fake ones. On the escalator in new jersey, in the cafe in Vienna, on the little motor boat in their backyard. Natasha was getting tired of playing games. She was tired of the sultry looks and the subtle touch of hands when they didn’t think the other way paying attention, the silent invitation always waiting by Natasha’s bedroom door.
“Say bye bye to daddy,” she said in that stupid, high pitched little kid voice while waving Romana’s hand at Steve. Romana was much more interested in the person walking their dog on the opposite sidewalk. Natasha sighed, watching the black BMW pull away. It was the second car Fury left them, the SUV intended for transporting Romana (bulletproof and everything else you could think of), this smaller one for Steve to drive to and from work.
Of course, as soon as Steve was gone, Romana started to wail.
“Oh, baby, it’s going to be okay, daddy’s going to be back tonight. He’s at work, okay?” Shockingly, Romana seemed to calm down a little. “You’re something special, kid.”
Romana looked at Natasha as if saying, “of course i am!”. Natasha smiled and kissed the top of her baby’s head. A few neighbors were watching them from the street, more from windows. Natasha threw one kid a smile from across the street before turning and heading back inside.
The day passed painfully uneventfully. They went outside and sat in the gazebo, then under the shade of the oak trees, then on the dock, staring up at the sky. By four, they were both dripping in sweat, so Natasha trudged upstairs and changed them both into swimsuits. Romana had a green striped one piece. Natasha had a black bikini with blood red trim. They went back downstairs, suffocating in the heat. This place sucked.
But all was slightly more bearable once Natasha and Romana were in the cool shade of the oak trees, dangling their legs in the water. Airplanes hummed overhead, animals in the bayou buzzing. The neighbors’ kids were laughing next door. Everything felt so peaceful, and Natasha found herself imagining keeping this life she was never supposed to have. What if it could stay this way? What if every night, she and Steve would fall asleep in the same bed, wearing real rings (not the fake ones on their hands now). They’d wake up, and Steve would get Romana ready while Natasha made breakfast. They’d eat, then drive together to work, kissing each other goodbye as they headed off to their separate meeting and assignments. They’d trade Roma throughout the day, unwilling to trust her with daycare or babysitters. They’d come home and talk about work, talk about their days, talk about everything. They’d put Romana down, then watch a movie as they’d fall asleep. Everything would be different...but maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.
She was jolted out of her daydream by Friday’s voice in the comm attached to her ear.
“Agent Rogers is calling, Agent Romanoff, would you like to take the call?” the automated, but somehow kind, voice of the AI asked.
“Patch him through, Fri,” Natasha responded, holding her finger to the device to turn on the mic.
“Hey, Nat, we’ve got an appointment with Cho tomorrow at the field office.”
His voice comforted her in a strange way, like being wrapped in fluffy blankets fresh out of the dryer. “Okay, good.”
“I’m on my way home. I left early. I guess I missed our girl.” Natasha could hear the smile in his voice. Romana was paying close attention to the one side of the conversation she could hear. She made a few babbling noises that came close to ‘dada’. “Yeah, daddy’s on the phone.”
“Hi baby girl,” Steve cooed. Romana grinned, as much as a baby could. Maybe she has super hearing, too. Natasha rolled her eyes. Eight months old, and her kid could already do more than Natasha herself. “Okay, I’m about to get on the freeway. See you soon.”
“bye, Aaron.”
The name felt foreign on her lips. She’d never even met a man named Aaron before, and now she’s supposed to be married to one. Since Steve would be home in around twenty minutes, Natasha decided that both of them needed to be cleaned. And then it hit her-she could put Roma in the carrier sling, strap her on Nat’s chest, and then they could both take a shower at once. Fucking genius. She should start a mom lifehack channel on youtube.
Excited to try out the new idea, Natasha gathered herself and her baby (who was playing with a lizard she somehow got a hold of) and rushed upstairs.
“Okay, kid, you’re gonna need to cooperate with me here,” Natasha told Romana, who ignored her in favor of looking at the flower on her swimsuit. “I’ll take that as a ‘sure mom’.”
Natasha layed Romana on the bed and undressed her, before stripping off her own bikini. After a few seconds of fumbling, she managed to strap the carrier around her waist. How was the baby supposed to get in, while the adult was buckling the straps, and not fall?
“Friday, give me some help here,” Natasha asked of the AI, who resided in little pods around the house.
“I would suggest laying on the bed, placing the baby on top of you, and then buckling the straps.”
Good idea.
Thankfully it worked. Natasha stood up, only a little lightheaded, and went into the bathroom. Once the shower spray was warm, they stepped in, closing the glass door behind them.
Shockingly, it went well. After Natasha had washed her body, she took Romana out and bathed her as well. Once again, the idea of a mom life hack youtube channel crossed her mind (or maybe she was just going stir crazy). The system wasn’t flawless, but they did well with the options they had.
Twenty minutes later, they were dressed and downstairs. Romana, now fascinated with the stripes on her romper, sat on the counter while Natasha ordered a pizza. Steve arrived a minute later.
“Hey, Nat,” Steve called.
“How was your day?”
“Could have been better. Yours?” he entered the kitchen, pulling Natasha into a side hug before going to pick up Romana.
“We need to talk about alternating childcare weeks.”
“That boring, huh?” he smiled, baby in his arms.
“you take a turn being a stay at home dad next week and tell me how you feel.”
“You’ve got a point. We’ll run it by Fury tomorrow.”
“Thank god. I love her, but I’m this close to throwing her against the wall.” Natasha put her thumb and index finger together.
“Your fingers are touching.”
“Exactly.”
They ate pizza on the couch and watched the fault in our stars. Steve cried several not so silent tears, and then Romana started crying because Steve was crying, and then Natasha started crying because being a mom was making her a little crazy.
(she isn’t a mom, though. It had been easy to forget that she wasn’t Romana’s real mom, not even her adoptive mom, hard to remember Steve wasn’t her real husband. It was all an act and nothing more. That hurt like a bitch to think about, but it was the truth.)
“Friday, play Mean Girls,” Natasha commanded through a sob (tears>crying>sobbing=chain of events when you have a kid in the house).
“No! We need to see how it ends,” Steve protested.
“You read the book, Rogers! The guy dies!”
“I know! Don’t remind me!”
Natasha rolled her eyes, wiping away her tears. “We’re watching mean girls.”
Steve didn’t argue.
She must have fallen asleep because one minute Regina George was playing soccer, and the next Natasha was being shaken awake.
“Come on, Nat, you’ve got to go to bed,” Steve murmured.
Natasha rubbed her eyes. “Where’s my kid?”
“Asleep. Get up.”
Natasha stood up, eyes slipping shut. She swayed, and Steve looped an arm around her. Together, they stumbled through the house, up the stairs. Natasha had woken up by the last step. She yawned and detached from Steve, walking sleepily to her bathroom.
She turned on the tap, bent down to splash water on her face. When she looked up, she met Steve’s eyes in the mirror.
“Rogers.”
“Romanoff.”
Natasha felt his gaze, watching, waiting. She brushed her teeth and braided her hair, finally setting down the hairbrush and turning around.
something hummed in the air, like the feeling right before a thunderstorm. something was about to happen, and they both knew it.
Maybe it was the late hour, or maybe it was the shocking amount of tension that had been building up in this house for the last week, but all she could think about was kissing him.
She was a spy, she knew how much he wanted to kiss her too.
Strange how body language can speak louder than any voice, but people hardly notice it.
Just the way Steve relaxed around her spoke volumes. Sometimes, Steve would forget what he was doing and start playing with her hair, or trace patterns on her skin. the kisses on her cheek or forehead when they both lapsed into their married alter egos didn’t feel so fake. The kisses on the lips felt even more real, as if when she opened her eyes, she wouldn’t be a spy, but a mother and a wife.
All that made Natasha rise up on her toes and press her lips to Steve’s, rest her hands on his chest.
His arms snaked around her after a moment, pressing her body closer to his. He tasted like watermelon on a hot summer's day, skin burning at Natasha’s touch. How was he always so warm? He ran warmer than anyone Natasha had ever met.
But she liked it, because she always seemed to feel cold.
“Nat...we shouldn’t.” Steve pulled away.
“Why not?” She asked, gazing up into his eyes, her face asking more questions than her voice.
“It’s late,” he said, voice cracking. “You aren’t thinking straight. You’ll regret it.”
“I want this, Rogers. I think you want it, too.”
Something changed in the expression on his face. "I do."