I Come With Lines, You Talk in Circles (Cap/Tasha)

[Steve Rogers]

“I like it.”

Steve would've had a bright smile already, but he was too busy being incredibly nervous. Over the past few weeks, he and Natasha had been around each other more than anyone else on the team, and honestly, Steve was rather happy about that. About a week ago, he'd figured it out. The redheaded super spy from Russia had slipped in, set up a fox hole in his heart, and then slipped back out before dinner. She seemed to understand him, not that there was much to understand, Steve figured he was simple enough, especially compared to the people of today.

Suddenly...

Ba-bump.

Tasha was leaning on him lightly, and his sense of touch was just sensitive enough for Steve to be able to tell that she was doing it on purpose. He grinned, just a bit, despite the nervousness. Cap knew that Natasha probably would stray away if he was bold enough to try and take her hand. Instead, he shifted his weight a bit as well, moving a bit closer to her. Shoulders pressed together, Steve had something of a revelation. This was definitely a date.

And there wasn't anywhere else he'd rather be.

[Natasha Romanoff]

* * *

She stood looking for a long time, dividing her attention between the painting in front of her and the man at her side. He didn’t say anything, and neither did she, but she could see the curve of his smile from the corner of her eye.

Eventually, she stood straight, tilting her head in the general direction of the rest of the exhibit.

“They have my favourite,” she told him quietly. To anyone else, their favourite painting was hardly a secret -- but Natasha wasn’t big on personal details, so it was about as secretive as she got. Unless of course you counted all the times she’d been on recon or investigative missions; those tended to be pretty high on the secretive scale.

She meandered down the line of people, recognising a piece here and there, and eventually spied the piece she’d been waiting for. Confidently, she just barely slipped her fingertips into his hand, knowing his palm would gravitate toward a firmer grasp, and tugged him ever so slightly in the direction she wanted him to go. With her free hand, she pointed to a piece on loan from a museum in Stavropol.

“There. That one. The Levitsky.”

Her accent was evident as she pronounced his name, but it faded away as quickly as it had manifested.

“This is the second time I’ve seen it in person.”

* * *

[Steve Rogers]

Steve calmed himself a bit and straightened up when Natasha did. He didn't want to appear to over the top after all. He was Captain America! He needed to remain cool, at least until Natasha wasn't looking at him. Cap supposed all along that he wanted to spend time like this with her, going all the way back, months ago, when Phil Coulson had introduced them. She was everything he wasn't. Tasha was calm, collected, and always seemed to know what to say or do that benefited her best interests, well, most of the time.

Then there was Steve. Nervous, out of his element and clumsy with his strength and his words.

Perhaps all those old books he read back when he was still scrawny were right, perhaps opposites did attract. No, perhaps wasn't confident enough. Come on Steve, work up a little nerve, be a little more aggressive, or confident, that was a better word. Confidence was still far from his strong point, Steve had always been uncomfortable in his own skin, that doubled when he underwent the operations in the Super Solider Program. He'd had three years while he faced off against Hydra, hardly enough time to become uncomfortable after a lifetime of being a short nobody.

But, Steve was brave, that was one thing he definitely had going for him. He was going to try and break through each and every layer of Tasha's shielded heart, headfirst.

“There. That one. The Levitsky.”

Steve examined the painting quietly for a few moments, trying to take it all in. Eventually, he smiled and commented on it, "The forest is incredible. It looks real."

“This is the second time I’ve seen it in person.”

Tasha was telling him about her past, willingly. That was new. Seizing the moment, Cap went uncharacteristically bold and asked, "When was the first time?"

[Natasha Romanoff]

* * *

She smiled momentarily at his observation, a short nod serving as response. Instead of answering, she enjoyed the painting in silence, thinking on how she would answer.

It wasn’t a pretty line of thought. She’d been a different person back then, and in fact the day she’d last seen this particular painting was the same day she’d set fire to the summer home of a British parliament member. She couldn’t remember his name, but it hardly mattered – he’d just been a target back then. It wasn’t as if she remembered many of their names.

Her unease at the memory wasn’t apparent in any external way, but it was inked all over her mind. There was no use denying who she’d been – it had a lot to do with who she was now, and certainly with her unique skill set – but she wasn’t proud of it. There were a lot of things that hadn’t made it into her SHIELD profile: gory details, nuances, signatures that recon troops had missed… they were things no one but her knew, and she planned to keep it that way.

Of course, Steve was only asking about a painting. Tasha knew that, but sometimes sharing left her raw; she’d done enough growing for today.

So instead, she curled her fingers into his hand, holding on gently, deliberately. His hand was warm against hers, and one side of her mouth flickered upward at the small pleasure of it.

“Years ago.”

* * *

[Steve Rogers]

If Tasha paid attention to every little detail, and Steve was sure she did, he knew she'd easily be able to feel the light pound of his heart. These little things were the bits that Steve never got to enjoy. He'd never held hands with someone special, or gone to a museum with someone other than Bucky. And despite all his lack of any experiences, Tasha stood by and gave them to him. Really, that was more touching to him than anything else, “Years ago.”

It seemed like that could be the answer for anything between them. In Steve's case, almost all of his life's major experiences were nearly a century ago, for Tasha, they just felt like they were that long, because she'd been an adult for her entire life. The two had the deepest pasts of any of the Avengers, and just the surface answers were good enough for now. Steve would take baby strides. She was a person, not a rubrics cube. Unraveling the puzzle that was Natasha Romanoff was going to take far more than just a few turns of the patterns.

So he didn't press on, instead settling on feeling her hand in his. He hadn't realized how much smaller her hand was than his before. Natasha's eyes always had him distracted enough that Steve hadn't even noticed there was just a bit of a size difference between them too. Steve wondered if he was always this slow to realize things. If he wasn't, he must've been really off because of how much he was enjoying himself.

After just another silent moment, Steve looked to her and said, "Years ago doesn't matter anymore. There's no going back to years ago. But, there's plenty of years ahead to focus on. So, let's make them count Tasha." A smile broke out from the Captain, he rather liked that outlook. After all, he'd come from the past to protect the future.

[Natasha Romanoff]

* * *

Natasha didn’t look at him, her eyes flitting over the painting. If she looked hard enough, she could see the brushstrokes in the paint, and they fascinated her.

“That’s a nice sentiment.”

Her voice was quiet, but not unkind. The truth was that years ago did matter. Maybe not to him, but certainly for her. She was responsible for so many things: who’d lived and died in certain situations, and all the consequences that came with that. The past would always matter to her; the moment it stopped mattering, all her progress was for nothing.

There were so few people in her life who reminded her of her progress. She used to count SHIELD as one of the most healthy presences in her life, but now she wasn’t so sure. After she’d found out that they were planning to manufacture weapons based on the energy of the Tesseract… it was too close to her past for comfort. She didn’t trust many people in this world at all, and after that revelation, the list had gotten even shorter.

But she trusted Steve, if only because she knew he was too virtuous to be disingenuous. She’d only met one other person like that in her life; it was far too rare a trait, as far as she was concerned. She might even stand to learn a thing or two from the Captain.

She didn’t say anything else on the subject, enjoying the simple fact of her hand in his. It had been so very long, and even that small intimacy was a thrill. Tugging ever so gently, she moved on to the next painting, guiding them through the exhibit, classically introspective about the whole thing.

* * *

[Steve Rogers]

Of course the past matter, Steve was still at a point where he wished that it didn't, because looking back on what had happened to him was so hard. The 21st Century still felt like a dream, everything was sleek, bright and, somewhat cold. Television seemed like an escape from actually going outside and living life, people were more attached to the small handheld devices they kept in their pockets rather than the people right in front of him. Even cars had computers in them now. Everything was just so topsy turvy, absolutely overwhelming.

But if he just kept on moving ahead, not letting things shock him, it wasn't so bad at all.

And then, there was Natasha. Just being around her slowed everything down to a manageable speed. He could handle everything be so radically different, because it didn't phase her. If she was calm, Steve felt the same way. An aura almost, some kind of non-existent energy she gave off that made Steve feel at ease around her. He wondered if he constantly made her nervous and on edge, hoped he didn't really, at least for the reasons he would be nervous or confused.

She pulled him along, not hard, just a light tug to move along and take in other parts of the exhibit. Without realizing it, they'd spent almost thirty minutes looking at just two pieces of art. Even still, Steve didn't mind. They could move as slow as they liked.

At this point, his attention was on Natasha, what she did, how she reacted to things he said, all of it. He couldn't help it. The redheaded assassin had the Captain captivated.

[Natasha Romanoff]

* * *

40 minutes later, they had seen the entirety of the exhibit. They still had about half an hour until the museum closed, but for the life of her, Tasha couldn’t think of anything she’d like to see that they could accomplish in that timeframe.

So she stood, contemplating the last painting, full up on the visual cues of her homeland. It was oddly satisfying; she harboured no actual loyalty toward the country anymore, didn’t even consider it truly “home” after all these years… but her eye wasn’t exactly objective, and she could appreciate its beauty, even if it tended to come with a slew of unsavoury memories. That was her fault, in part; she’d been impressionable.

Coolly, she flickered her gaze up to Steve, her hand still twined with his. She idly traced her thumb in a semicircle over the roughness of his palm as she regarded him curiously.

“Probably time for us to leave, Captain.”

Her tone held just a hint of a tease. She couldn’t help herself; he was all innocence and warmth, just holding her hand. It was flattering and amusing all at once, and not for the first time, she thought about how refreshingly different he was. Puzzling, maybe, but refreshing.

“We’ll have to come back again, though.”

* * *

[Steve Rogers]

Steve did his best not to get caught staring at Natasha, and whenever she was looking at a painting, he was looking at her. He knew that was terrible, and that he should be looking at the art, but he couldn't help it. He should have felt guilty about taking advantage of being here for free, but he didn't. Natasha was all the art he needed to see right now.

And the way her hand felt in his. If he wasn't so sure his heart was that pounding, he'd think maybe the unshakable Black Widow was beating quickly as well. Regardless, the Captain did notice how her hand seemed to fit into his like a glove. It was natural, and after he'd changed physically so many years ago, Steve stopped fighting against nature.

When he saw Tasha's red hair move as she began to look towards him, Steve tore his eyes off of her and onto a painting. It wasn't the smoothest of retreats, but he liked to think that she hadn't caught him. She certainly hadn't said anything yet.

“Probably time for us to leave, Captain.” Suddenly, he didn't want to go anywhere. Leaving might mean not being close like this. He liked this, Cap didn't want to give it up. Staying here was definitely the best option, it wasn't going to close yet, he was sure they had more time.

"Hm? Oh, I guess we should then."

'Coward.'

Cap didn't know what that meant about where they'd be going, but he still had her hand, and he wasn't giving it back unless she took it. Even still, he might resist that at first. “We’ll have to come back again, though.”

"Definitely." Steve paused for a moment before he swallowed and built up some courage, "Tasha, do you, uh. Do you want to come back to the tower with me?"

'Smooth Rogers, come up with something genuis!'

"Just for a bit, I uh, figure I owe you a movie on my couch since I kinda forced your hand last time." That sounded better than nothing. Steve waited for an answer now, hoping he hadn't blown it already. God he was bad at all this.

[Natasha Romanoff]

* * *

Natasha smiled before she could catch herself. He was terribly transparent. She loved it. He broadcast every little thing, not making her work to discover how he was really feeling. It was effortless, and she was sure there weren’t many things in her life that fit that description. She was no super soldier, and she was used to working hard for every advantage she had.

Not with Steve. He just gave it to her, like a relationship, even one between friends, had nothing to do with who had the advantage.

Maybe it didn’t back in the forties. But these days, too often it did. It definitely did in the types of relationships she cultivated, but that was less personal dysfunction and more professional hazard. Or, so she hoped.

“A movie sounds good…” Actually, a movie sounded like far less work than what she’d had in mind, but she figured she could always conjugate Dutch verbs or run binary conversions in her head as they watched if she felt like being productive. Though the way his hand was heavy and insistent in hers had her thinking that maybe she’d be a little distracted.

Another glance at Steve confirmed what she’d been happy to be somewhat undecided on previously: he liked her. More than as a friend, or a teammate. Disproportionately, her ego fluffed; she knew in her head she was all wrong for him, but hey… he knew the worst of it. He’d read the file. The only part that worried her was the unfamiliar surge of tenderness on her part. It was a small surge, to be fair, but some was better than none, which is exactly how much she usually felt towards a romantic interest. Natasha was a matter-of-fact person - -again, a professional hazard – and if she didn’t know better, she’d say that the feelings she had for the Captain weren’t exactly matter-of-fact.

What a thought.

“That sounds great,” she covered smoothly, her face giving away nothing of her mental epiphany. “Did you have something in mind…”

She didn’t actually care, she just wanted to see him squirm a little. It was cute.

* * *

[Steve Rogers]

Oh right, he had to pick a movie. Steve didn't even have anything besides loud action films that he'd borrowed off Tony, and a couple of romantic comedies that Bruce claimed would help him brush up on modern society, or at least what was considered funny these days. Somehow, Steve doubted that, finding it more likely that Bruce and Tony were conducting a social experiment, or trying to make him look like a fool. Both could be possible too.

"I'm not sure yet, I'll uh, have to see what's in the stack of films I haven't watched yet. I have a pile for studying."

Really, a movie wasn't what Steve was planning. As guilty as it made him feel, that was a ruse. Gosh, admitting it to himself wasn't doing anything to ease that weight. They were climbing into a cab now, and Steve just felt like as soon as they were on their way up the elevator, he'd be less tense and able to say what he wanted to say. The tower was somewhat of a comfort zone sometimes, he was certainly better able to express himself the more he thought about it. Without realizing, Steve had found his way into a home with something like a family, as crazy and dysfunctional as they may be, they were part of Steve's new life. Captain America, Steve Rogers, Avenger, teammate, brother in arms.

He liked that last one.

Right now, he needed to stop being so sentimental and focus on what was going on. They were nearing the big building with the bright lights that read out their team name, like a big bright bullseye. Then again, who would directly attack a place where the Hulk liked to kick his feet up and relax?

'Doing it again Rogers. Stop avoiding the subject. Focus soldier.'

They were getting out of the cab now, Steve paid this time. The swipe of an ID card and they were in.

"Welcome back Captain Rogers, Agent Romanoff. I'll have an elevator for you in one moment." It was as if the AI knew exactly what Steve had in mind. Sometimes,

"Thank you Jarvis."

The elevator was there as promised, closing behind them. Three floors up, Steve swallowed hard again before speaking, "Tasha, I-"

'Screw it, go go go!'

Steve leaned in and pressed his lips onto Natasha's, pushing his weight onto her and backing the woman up against the wall of the elevator, almost rocking the whole car.

[Natasha Romanoff]

* * *

She knew he didn’t have anything in mind, and it was sort of sweet to see him stammer through a response.

They left, their fingers tangled companionably together, the knitted hem of her sweater falling down to brush their knuckles. They stayed that way during the silent ride home, their hands bridging the gap between them, resting together on the seat.

She dropped his hand before they slipped out of the cab, mostly because she had no interest in explaining herself to whoever happened to be around. The day had been comfortable and chaste – different than any of the dates in her past, to be sure – and she would honestly rather not deal with commentary from the team.

They slipped into the elevator nonchalantly.

“Captain Rogers’ floor please, Jarvis.” She almost held her breath, daring the AI to say something. After all, he’d been created by Tony, and she was often surprised at the lack of backtalk that had been programmed into him. The doors closed in silence, the correct button lighting up, and she turned her head when Steve spoke, her fingers idly smoothing the hem of her pullover.

And then he kissed her.

Tasha managed not to laugh, but her lips curved against his, closed and smiling. He was saccharine sweetness, all manners and clumsy enthusiasm, and it amused her in the best way. Capable hands rested on his shoulders, not pushing him away, but making sure he wasn’t getting any closer. Instead, she tilted her head gently to the side, her eyes open and watching him at close range as she slanted her tongue against his mouth, half expecting to scare him off.

* * *

[Steve Rogers]

Steve was incredibly pleased that Natasha hadn't pulled back, confirming the thoughts that there may be some feelings from her back at him, something that he had hoped were true. However, her tongue's appearance in their kiss, that was, unexpected. His eyes opened for just a moment, but the green eyes inspecting him quickly made him nervous, so they shut again.

Maybe he just didn't know what he was doing, and Natasha was showing him something that he'd never experienced before. This was Steve's third kiss, ever, and the first kiss that he had initiated with someone. The kisses before then had been heated, but not like that. She licked him, and to his surprise, Steve liked it. Even if he hadn't he couldn't back down, she'd think he was too inexperienced or something like that. Instead, Steve didn't back away, he continued on, just leaving enough of his mouth open to continue their kiss. He couldn't just push his tongue into her mouth, Cap decided, that would be improper of him unless she made it clear that's what she wanted him to do.

Soon, Steve's big lungs finally started to beg for air. Using his nose to breath had occurred to him about a floor again, but he thought that if he did take a breath, Natasha would notice and think he was more focused on breathing than kissing. So, now out of air, he pulled back, as their lips separated, his eyes opened so he could get an eyeful of her expression.

Once he'd had his fill of oxygen, Steve finally spoke up, "S-sorry, I um, just, really wanted to put that out there. I, like you Natasha. A lot."

[Natasha Romanoff]

* * *

The lift of Natasha’s eyebrows was the only hint of her surprise. Her eyes danced over his form, taking in his posture and the distance he’d pulled back and the very slight colour of his cheeks.

It had been a long time since she’d been in a position to entertain feelings like these. Back during her time with SHIELD, they’d never crossed her mind. Sure, she and Clint had thrown quips back every now and again, but it had never been anything that had come up, with him or anyone else. Sometimes, she thought that part of her was lost, and she wondered if that was what made her such an effective assassin. It was easy to know how to kill someone 32 different ways using only common desktop items when you were never wondering how to get into their pants.

Consequently, she worried that her interest now might conflict with her effectiveness in battle. She wasn’t worried about getting too fond of him and being a wreck when he went off on a mission; as unpractised as he was with women, she knew it was a completely different case in the field. She wouldn’t worry about him. She wouldn’t have to.

It was her focus she didn’t trust. She knew what she liked, what she wanted – things Steve didn’t have a clue about, she was willing to bet – but it’d been a long, long time since she’d ever shared them without exploiting the effect they had on someone. She wasn’t going to bother feeling bad about it – really, it said more about her target that she was able to use her sexuality as a weapon more often than not – but she didn’t want that to be the case with the Captain.

That fact both frightened and heartened her. She left her eyebrows were they were as she focused on his gaze.

“I like you, too, Steve.” She touched his bicep, meaning for her touch to convey that this wasn’t just a line she used. “And I have several ideas on what to do about it…” Her lips drifted upward again, the same playful half smile she used for so many occasions. Almost in slow motion, she leant forward and brushed her lips against his, a cautious promise of a kiss.

“…But how about we start with that movie, hmm?”

She wasn’t sure of much at the moment, but she knew she needed to move softly. It was going to be a challenge for her, but she didn’t want to break him.

* * *

[Steve Rogers]

“I like you, too, Steve.”

The heavy heartbeat was back in spades. Steve's smiled turned from nervous to genuine almost instantly. Natasha touched him again, and for once, he didn't tense up like a nervous idiot. Sure, he was far from confident in situations like this, but Cap was certainly a great deal less jumpy than he had been before their kiss, like a great relief had passed over him.

“And I have several ideas on what to do about it…”

"I, I-" Steve stammered a bit. He knew people moved fast in this era, but he wasn't sure he was ready to go like that. Certainly if it meant keeping Natasha's attention, he would go to the ends of the Earth, but he didn't want her to think that he was just after sex. He wasn't, well, he wasn't just. Eventually, for sure. Steve wanted an honest stab at making it work. Tasha was a special woman, and whether she wanted to let her infamous 'ledger' get in the way or not, Steve could see them working together well. Natasha would be a fantastic best girl.

Wait, that wasn't the right word. What was the word they used now? Girlfriend, he liked that. He wanted Tasha to be a serious girlfriend.

He met her light kiss with his own. It was tender, nice, different from the one before, but still amazing all the same. When she pulled back, Steve's eyes fell on her's, listening to her, but falling into the green eyes and being unable to pull away, “…But how about we start with that movie, hmm?”

The Captain nodded lightly, the ghost of a smile there as well. Was she taking it easy on him? Or moving at a pace that made her comfortable too? Steve didn't know for sure, but either way, he appreciated it, "I think that's a fair call Tasha." The elevator buzzed again, the fiftieth floor, Steve's floor. It was kind of corny that Stark had put him here, but Steve didn't argue, it was free lodging after all.

A movie would be good. If it were anything like the last one, maybe Steve could steal a few more of those kisses, test the waters and see what worked and what didn't. Oh, he was awful. This was their first night as, whatever they were, he didn't want to stumble all over her like a goon. Though, his curious side wanted to come out and play a bit more. Maybe Natasha wouldn't mind like, three more kisses. Or four.

Maybe six.