The Prince And The Rose

27 - Eyes On You

Natasha swirled the vodka around in her glass, staring blankly at it. That was easier than paying attention to all the greasy, perfumed business executives and small-time politicians. She knew why they had to do events like this, for the public relations, but the only one who enjoyed them was Tony. Everyone else, herself included, hated these events. Some of them were just better at hiding it, she thought, looking with amusement over at Steve. His shoulders were hunched tight together with frustration, hands stuffed in his pockets. He looked like he might implode from discomfort.

She swallowed some more of her drink, planning to go over and rescue him, but she was stopped by a smarmy-looking man with a perfectly swept hairstyle, dignified worry lines, a crisp, untouched suit, and a pretentious smile, who came over and leant against the counter next to her.

"Miss Romanoff. Could I just say how much I appreciate your contributions to the safety of our community," the man said, raking his eyes up and down her figure in deep appreciation of something else entirely. She stifled a sigh and the urge to punch him.

"Thank you," she said coldly. She didn't ask for his name. Her civility didn't extend that far. She had to be polite, which meant she couldn't break any bones, but she could break other things if pressed. Like his ego, inflated enough to make him think he could flirt with a Black Widow and get anything other than a dismissal.

"I was in D.C. when you and the Captain took out Hydra," he said, sitting down. Natasha sighed and did the best to communicate with both her posture and expression that she was not only not interested, but disgusted. She didn't really expect him to catch on, but it was worth a try. She'd prefer to give him a chance to get himself out of the situation before she started in on him. "Then when I saw you on the news, I thought, 'This lady is crazy.' Lucky for you, I like a little crazy."

"Why lucky for me?" Natasha answered coolly. "I wasn't aware you had the ability to get me locked up. Because otherwise I don't give a rat's ass what you like. Actually-"

"Excuse me." Steve could move silently when he chose, which no one ever expected. The business man clearly didn't, because he flinched as if stuck with a pin and turned around, smearing on a pleasant smile. "I believe Miss Romanoff is trying to tell you to get the hell out of her space." Natasha wasn't sure whether to be amused by the man's shocked expression, or irritated that Steve felt like he had to butt in.

The business man's smile faltered before he put it back on, then he put his hands up in a placating gesture. "Sorry, Captain. I don't quite agree with your assessment, but-"

"You think she's into you?" Steve said, his voice heavy with dry, sarcastic humor. Natasha understood, now, how little Steve Rogers had gotten in so many fights. It would be one thing if he Captain America'ed the situation until the guy had to feel ashamed and walked away, but no, Steve was just calling it like he saw it. Which meant one of Tony's stockholders was getting the full force of Steve's disapproving sass. Natasha decided to suspend her irritation till later and just enjoy the show.

"Well..." The man floundered for an explanation, then cast Natasha a helpless look, like, you tell him. She raised her glass of vodka in salute, letting herself smirk. He looked blank for a second, then slowly turned back around in his seat to face Steve. Hopefully he was examining the life choices that had led him to a point where Captain freaking America was giving him the Righteous Stare of DeathTM.

Steve crossed his arms, the movement straining his already struggling dress shirt. "Tony asked us to be on our best behavior tonight," literally, actually, Tony had said that, "but I think you're in danger of several broken ribs right now. I'm just warning you, for your own good. Nat has a wicked roundhouse kick."

Natasha almost laughed, but instead winked at Steve over the man's head.

The guy sounded surprised Steve wasn't threatening anything himself when he next spoke. "Warning me?"

"Yeah. Not that you don't deserve it. I wouldn't mind breaking your nose myself. But we don't want to let Tony down, so I'm asking you to please leave Natasha alone before she makes it impossible for you to walk tomorrow." Steve's resulting smile was a baring of teeth, triumphantly fierce. "In the very literal, very painful sense."

The business man practically vaulted himself out of his seat and out of there. Steve casually dropped into his vacated seat and raised an eyebrow. "Did I do that okay?"

She laughed. "What do you mean?"

"You were getting annoyed there for a bit. I know you can take care of yourself, but I just..." He shrugged sheepishly. "Didn't like him. Anyway, he said he liked crazy, so I thought if you threatened him yourself it might not work as well."

Natasha laughed again. She'd been mad, that was true. But Steve, first with his confident assistance and then his more awkward explanation, made it okay. "Alright, fair enough, Rogers." She met his eyes and was once again alarmed by how warm she felt when she looked at him. Definitely too risky, she thought.

But it was a party. She could claim to be drunk – she was, after all, drinking vodka. Not that he would buy it. But Steve going from confident and protective to awkward and proud might be too attractive to resist.

Maybe she was a little drunk, because she should know that Steve was exactly the kind of person to attach strings to a kiss, to take everything the wrong way. She'd kissed him once – he was no great kisser – and certainly not one to let her get away with the excuse "I was drunk," so why did she want to? He knew her too well.

She just... she wanted to know. Wanted to know if maybe, just maybe, he would kiss her back. Wanted to know if he kissed any better when they had time for it. Wanted to know if the kiss would be like a thousand others or if it being him would make it better.

She wanted to find out how much danger she was in.

What if he kissed her back? What if he did love her and she had to let him down after that? She couldn't risk it. But looking away from those blue eyes was hard, and telling herself she didn't want more was harder.

"Are you okay, Nat?" Steve asked, sounding halfway between worried and shy. "Are you sure you aren't mad?"

"Yes, you dumbass," she managed, smiling a little. "I'm not mad. Just tired."

He stood up. "Good." His leather shoes shuffled on the floor, then she heard him walking away.

Natasha didn't stop him, as much as she wanted to. She was impulsive sometimes, but not stupid enough to actually kiss him. She knew what that could lead to and she wasn't going to compromise herself that much.

Not tonight, anyway, she thought, looking up and smiling at his hesitant walk back to the misery of stockholders and politicians. It was a little worrying how little concern she felt upon realizing that if he asked her, she would be his without much of a struggle. Oh, she was in far over her head. And she hated it.

Although it was certainly intoxicating.