Chasing Ghosts | Natasha Romanoff

Chapter 102: I Will, I Do

Was this how Katya felt without them?

"Relax, Romanoff." Fury had enough of her restlessness, ready to give her some tough love. "Your days of acting tough were over the moment I sent you to Serbia. No need to feel embarrassed about it now."

Natasha scoffed, taking clear offense in that. "Okay, I believe it took a bit longer for Kat to un-tough me."

"Eh, no."

Both men said it at the same time, and her head whipped from left to right, frowning deeply at their stoic faces.

"What does t–"

Catching her off guard, smart. Or maybe Fury was done with the nervous mess that she was.

Anyhow, he yanked the front door open and tugged her out, Clint stumbling nearly as much as she, and he wasn't wearing heels or a long dress.

Thank god for elegance and years of dancing.

"Damn it, Fury," Natasha hissed, regaining her footing. Nearly a hundred pairs of eyes were on her, and she felt her cheeks start to burn. What made it worse were the two photographers capturing every second of this.

"Smile," was all Fury replied, and so she did. A shy, small smile while her gaze flickered over the guests as she walked the aisle. Her eyes weren't able to keep contact with anyone else's for more than a fleeting moment, but she recognized some of them.

Sam's sister Sarah and her kids, Okoye and acquaintances from Wakanda, some of the Guardians, Rhodey, Kate, Antonia had made it. Even Mason. Yes, the one who she hated admitting saved both her and Kat's lives a couple times right after the whole Accords thing.

Katya had fought her on his invitation, but Natasha had said that he most likely wasn't going to risk showing his face anyway. She did not look forward to hearing a petty, "I told you so", later on. She suddenly hated that stupid British grin.

People smiled back at her, nodding, winking, giving subtle thumbs up. It all blurred into one and the walk seemed to be never-ending and too slow.

Why were they walking so slowly? Let's hurry it up so the next people could walk, and the next, and the next, until it was the only person who really mattered.

The elegant, light notes of a piano song continued to fill the air, and Natasha dared to throw a glance at the instrument as she focused mostly on patiently putting one foot in front of the other.

It was Cooper who played. For a whole year, he'd practiced two songs and managed to make them flow smoothly from one into the other. Natasha expected him to mess up at least once, because of the pressure and the nervous trembling of his hands. But he proved her wrong when she finally took her place at the altar and not a single note had been wrong.

Natasha's hands cramped when she let go of Clint and Fury's jackets and spun around, awkwardly smoothing out her dress. Until Clint pulled her into a quick hug by her shoulders, careful not to mess with her hair, and whispered in her ear, "You look stunning. I love you."

A small, emotional smile lay on her lips when he let go, her hand reaching to give his a soft squeeze. "I love you, too," she whispered.

He nodded, returning her smile with one of his own, and then left to take his place in what would be a line of groomsmen later on, on the grass, along the waterline.

Now all there was left shielding Natasha from a hundred prying eyes was Fury, who slowly raised his hand to touch her cheek. His palm felt rough against her skin, calloused, the size of it not meant for gentle touches like these but instead to handle a gun. Yet it felt warm, safe, same as the dark eyes that had captured her own and refused to let go. And Natasha felt herself melt despite the surprise that shot through her body like electricity.