Elysium (Natasha Romanoff)

Fourteen

Elias

I'm in my basement gym hitting a punching bag when there's a banging sound from upstairs followed by a fit of laughter.

Taking off my gloves, I head upstairs to find a very drunk Natasha and Wanda trying to set my lamp back on the table. I cross my arms and lean against the basement doorway as I wait for them to notice me.

And when they do, Natasha's reaction takes me by surprise.

"Elias!" She squeals with a large smile. "You're home!" She looks genuinely happy to see me and like always, her smile never fails to bring one of my own out.

"And you're drunk," I say with a grin.

"Not drink! Drunk!" Wanda protests loudly. "Just slightly.."

"Drunk," I finish for her.

"A little," Natasha admits. "But don't tell Wanda she'll never drink with me again." She holds a finger up to her lips and makes a shushing sound. "It's a secret."

"Cross my heart," I promise as I move a finger over my heart. "So what brings you two lovely non drunk ladies to my house?"

"We have been talking," Natasha tells me as she points to herself and Wanda.

"And drinking!" Wanda adds.

"Yesss," Natasha agrees. "And drinking."

"I can see that," I tell them with a grin. Drunk Natasha was a lot more.. normal than sober Natasha. "And just what were you two talking about?"

"You," Natasha says as she pokes her finger into my chest. Or more accurately, my left tit. "Heh squish," she says as she does it again. "Anyway! There is a question I must ask."

"Alright, and what's your question, Red?"

"Awww she calls you Red," Wanda gushes as she sits on the couch heavily. "That's adorable!"

"Is it true.. that you are married?" She says the last part like it's a secret, and one she doesn't really want to know the answer to.

I breathe deeply before answering, "I am. But, my wife has been gone for a very long time."

Emotions flash across her face quickly and she asks, "sooo does that mean you're single? Widowed? A widower?" Her nose crinkles, "no I don't like that. I'm the Widow not you."

"I suppose you could say that I'm a widow," I tell her slowly. What did she mean she was a widow? Does that mean she was married before she died? I try not to get jealous, but it was hard. Of course I didn't want her to have been alone all these years, but she should have been with me, not them. "But yes, I am single."

Her eyes go wide and she looks at Wanda, "she's single!" Wanda gives her a double thumbs up as Natasha turns back to me, "that, good woman sir, brings me to my next question."

Woman sir? I'd have to ask her about that when she's sober.

"I'm an open book," I tell her.

She laughs, "if you were a book you'd be a porn. A good porn. A nice, sweet, sexy porn with a good plot not just one of those fake plot porns that don't matter or make any sense."

"Like the cowboy ones!" Wanda groans. "Why is it always the cowboy with no special training that has to fight off the mafia army to save a mediocre woman that's somehow pregnant with triplets after the first time they fuck?"

"That is actually a very good point," I admit. Turning back to Natasha, I find her staring at me with a thoughtful look, "what was your second question?" I ask her softly.

She bites her cheek in adorable way, "would you go on a date with me? A real date. Not like that 'not a date' date to the fair. Since you're single. And.. you know.. since you maybe kinda like me? Even after everything I said?"

The worry I'm her voice makes me put my hands on her hips and give her a reassuring smile, "I do like you Natasha. Nothing you do could ever change that. And to answer your question, I would love to go on a date with you. But I do have one stipulation."

"I like your big word magic man," she mutters as her eyes start to droop. "What's sitpulation?"

"You let me take you home," I tell her softly as I pick her up bridal style. I look over at Wanda who is already passed out on my couch and then back to the woman in my arms who is snuggling into my chest.

I carefully carry her out of my house and to her own, the door swinging open for me as I climb the steps to the porch. I chuckle at the amount of vodka bottles on the coffee table and the surprising amount of legos as I carry her to bed.

The sheets are already pulled back and I set her down gently, pulling the blankets over her. She groans and rolls over, her back facing me and she burrows into her pillows. I move the hair from her face and after a brief hesitation I lean down and kiss her head.

"I love you," I whisper before I pull away from her. "Sleep well, Red."