Meetings followed regularly, daily, and soon became less of formal interviews than friendly talks. He enjoyed her company too much to take some distance and she felt too strongly the need to have him close to take the initiative herself. His presence progressively healed the painful memories of his death and her camaraderie unconsciously soothed his feelings of sorrow and loneliness. With Barnes being away at war, Natalie soon became the only friend he had. Just a friend, as she knew all the room in his heart was taken by another woman.
Eventually, the leather notebook remained in the drawer of her desk at the apartment. Steve didn't bring it up, though. He made the assumption that the article was in the works and he never asked about it for he entertained the thought of her coming for him and not just for her job anymore.
And so the day naturally happened when he asked her to call him Steve. As she now knew it was the name he preferred to be called, she accepted and treasured his request but also dreaded the reasons and the outcomes that would ensue. This was why it wasn't until a few days later, after she had made up her mind, that she had given him permission to call her by her first name. He had smiled and complied happily.
She knew it wasn't right. She knew she was jeopardizing the mission by becoming a presence he yearned for and would have a difficult time to forget after she had gone. But there was something in Steve, this Steve she couldn't pull away from. Every minute in his company was a chance to reconnect with her friend and teammate but also to learn more about this Steve from 1942. And in a way, she found them so different. 1942 Steve was a less bitter and damaged version of modern Steve. 1942 Steve had this innocence, this endearing naivety, this sweet clumsiness and an insatiable hope for the future and humanity that the Steve she knew seemed to have left behind in the ice; and, as she listened to the way he talked of Barnes, of Bucky, every time they met, also after his death. She was now convinced that his abrupt passing had affected Steve and made him the person she had always known until she met his past self. This conclusion fuelled her determination to save Barnes and in the process preserve Steve's original joie de vivre.
She found out Steve was more spontaneous
'What are your plans for New Year's Eve?' he had once asked innocently.
'Well, I don't have any family here so I'm probably going to curl up in my sofa and brood about it while eating some ice cream,' she had answered.
'Oh, you too?' he had smiled. 'Here's an idea. How about we brood together? I know a place that sells the best ice cream in the city. What do you say?'
'I say you're probably gonna leave the party being more broody than when you arrived cause I intend to eat all your ice cream.'
And that was how they decided to spend New Years' Eve together.
And more loquacious, too. He complimented her when she walked in the cabaret. He had looked up, seen her step through the door and jumped up his seat to welcome her like a gentleman should.
'You look...stunning,' he blurted out then mentally beat himself up for this burst of frankness. He looked at her, almost apologetic.
She looked around. The atmosphere was festive, people were in a celebrating and happy mood, all ready to put aside the reality of the war to welcome the upcoming year.
'Why, thank you,' she answered lightly to ease the mood. 'But I think my hairdresser pushed the Marilyn Monroe looks a bit too far.'
A confused look spread across his face.
'Who?' he asked.
Oops. And yet another anachronism. She had been collecting them lately.
'You don't know her? Well, mark my words, Steve. She'll be very famous. An icon,' she said after he pulled her chair in while she sat. He went to sit in his chair face to her and she leaned closer. 'You heard it here first,' she added, murmuring suavely and winked. It made him laugh. She was enjoying this whole time travel thing way too much.
'I won't forget,' he answered with a smile then detached his gaze from her to choose a drink on the menu.
'5...4...3,' people sang in unison as they both watched from their seats. '2...1...Happy New Year!'
She turned to look at Steve's smiling face. The night was magical. He was alive, happy and by her side. 1943 seemed to be very promising and she never thought once she would be there to see it.
At the end of the evening, she waited for him as he signed a couple of autographs for people who had approached him when they were leaving the venue.
She threw a glimpse in his direction then stepped outside on the deserted sidewalk to breathe some fresh air. The temperature was cool but quite merciful for December/January. She heard footsteps getting closer and felt a hand reach for her purse. Her body reacted instinctively. She grabbed the unidentified hand, twisted it in a way to force the person to bend over in front of her. The man, dressed in black, and looking like a cheap thief, wailed in pain while she pressed her two fingers on the most sensitive nerve of his wrist.
'Looks like you had to pick the only lady in New York City who isn't really one,' she muttered harshly but with an entertained sneer. The thief didn't even try to escape her grip, he looked straight into her eyes and had a feeling she could break his wrist in just a flinch. And he couldn't have been any more right. Her gaze was still and serene but it was also what made it very much hostile and frightening. She looked like she was in control and knew exactly each and every movement of her hand that could inflict pain on his.
Natasha heard Steve come out of the venue and switched off her Black Widow persona. She released the pressure on the scoundrel's wrist just when Steve shouted and came running. The thief took advantage of the sudden twist of event, slipped his hand out of her willingly loose grip and shoved her before running off. She hardly staggered but took a few steps back to regain her balance. She felt Steve's strong arms slide around her waist from behind to catch her.
'Are you alright?' he asked, sounding quite alarmed, then after checking for himself by scanning her up and down, he leaped to run after the thief. She pressed her hand against his chest.
'Leave it,' she said. She was pretty positive the idiot would never renew the experience. Steve gave up but let out a sigh of frustration to blow off the steam as he watched him run around the corner. He then eventually fix his gaze back on her.
'This time, you let me walk you home,' he said. A courtesy she had always declined until now.
She nodded. He gave her his arm with a friendly smile and then they made their way to her apartment. It took them nearly an hour to reach her block mostly because they had extended their stroll. The streets were silent; shining light bulbs laying a warm and safe atmosphere around them. They discussed numerous topics: some she already knew he liked, some others she found out he had a deep interest in.
He talked a lot about having a home, children and a family.
'I know you don't put much faith in the institution of marriage,' he started with an amused smile. Yeah, she might have let that slip out during one of their talks. 'But yeah, I consider it is one step closer to achieve my definition of happiness.'
She stopped in front of her residence and turned to face him.
'Who is that woman who has your heart, Steve Rogers?' she asked softly with a little smile.
He frowned in surprise.
'What makes you think there is one?'
She shrugged and briefly broke eye contact. 'Call it intuition.'
He looked her deep in the eye, uncertain but tempted.
'Is it journalist Miss Rushman asking for her article?' he asked playfully.
'I'm asking as your friend,' she answered. She hadn't used this word in a while although she had been wanting to do so since the very beginning, but somehow, it sounded off now that she was saying out loud.
His smile turned into a sad one.
'There is...was someone. But she's gone now,' he murmured.
'From the army?' she asked.
He answered yes. She knew for a fact this woman who had his heart wasn't gone yet. And her return was imminent.
She nodded wistfully nonetheless for the illusion although not entirely because she was being sympathetic.
'She must be brave and strong,' she commented casually.
Steve looked at her intensely.
'You are brave and strong,' he stated matter-of-factly in a soft voice.
She looked up at him like she never had before. It felt like hearing the Steve from the future. Assertive as if he knew her. But it was impossible; she furrowed her brows in confusion.
'I saw you earlier with that thief,' Steve went on, chuckling. 'And he definitely was the one who looked like he was in serious distress. I almost wondered who I was supposed to rescue.'
It made her smile. 'Well, what can I say? It's my favorite purse,' she teased.
He laughed lightly, then turned an intent gaze on her. 'Aren't you from another time?'
He seemed to mean it...just not on a level close enough to what it really was.
She cocked an eyebrow.
'I hear that a lot,' she murmured with a smile. A part of her secretly wished he could know everything; know everything she was doing to save him and be the hero he had always believed she was.
Alas, that time hadn't come yet.
She lifted her hand and gently squeezed his forearm.
'Good night, Steve,' she said before heading inside the building.