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ladygrendelTitle: The Lion-Hearted Girl
Fandom: Marvel Earth-616 and Earth-3490
Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers, Natasha Stark, Peter Parker, James Rhodes (Steve/Tony pre-slash, established Steve/Natasha)
Spoilers: post-Siege
Warnings: bodyswap (Tony to Natasha and vice-versa), alien invasion, survivor guilt, loss of spouse and child, mentions of depression and alcoholism, language, sexual content
Chapter Six
>>>>>
Chapter Seven
When Steve returned to Avengers Tower that evening after a grueling day of paperwork, the last thing he expected to find was Spider-Man standing in the lobby, surrounded by almost a dozen boxes of various sizes, looking at a complete loss.
“What is all this?” he asked, trying to remain calm. All he had wanted to do when he got home was relax, not deal with a crisis that was obviously stressing out his fellow Avenger.
“I don’t know! When Natasha asked me to take care of her stuff I had no idea there’d be so much!”
Steve sighed and managed to keep from palming his face. It appeared that she was going to take him up on his offer to use the workshop, but what on earth could she have possibly ordered?
The building’s doors slid open and Natasha walked in with Rhodey following close behind. She clapped her hands at the sight of the mess, looking positively delighted, while Rhodey just seemed amused by the situation.
“It looks like everything’s here,” she said to him with childlike glee.
“Oh, you’re definitely Tony’s twin.”
Ignoring the comment, she rushed over to the nearest box and tore into it, packing peanuts flying everywhere. Rhodey shook his head and smiled, until he made eye contact with Steve – he glared at him, and Steve wished that he’d had more paperwork.
“Natasha, do you mind if I borrow Steve for a minute?”
“Mm? No, go ahead,” she said distractedly, and Steve wondered when she had become the boss of him, a surprisingly juvenile thought. It sounded more like Clint than him, honestly. “C’mon, Webs. Help me move this stuff downstairs while the men talk.”
“So what does that make me?” Spider-Man demanded, gathering several large boxes together.
“A spider, of course.”
Rhodey waited until the pair had maneuvered some of the boxes into the elevator and left before turning his attention back to Steve. He could be very intimidating when he wanted to, but Steve had faced more threatening people.
“I know I should have told you about her, things have just-”
“Damn right you should’ve told me,” he growled. “Do you have any idea what it was like to get an email from someone claiming that they’re an alternate version of Tony stuck in his body? Jesus, Steve. Can you imagine if she had emailed Pepper first?”
Every situation that Steve could imagine always ended in heartbreak. He had a feeling that Tony and Pepper had taken their relationship to the next level while he’d been gone, but when Tony had woken up after rebooting his brain, he hadn’t had any memories after taking the Extremis dose. Pepper had tried to protect him from the ugly truth – the war, Steve’s death, the invasion, Osborn – but Tony had refused to believe that ignorance was bliss. Nearly everyone was well aware of the fact that Pepper had been in love with him for years, and even her marriage to Happy Hogan hadn’t changed that.
“You’re right, and I’m sorry for not telling you. Calling you and Pepper should have been my first priority.”
After a pause, Rhodey relaxed and Steve did the same. He had every right to be angry with Steve, but thankfully was willing to move past it since no real harm had been done.
“She’s a lot like him, you know. It’s like they were separated at birth or something.”
“Yeah,” said Steve, feeling vaguely guilty. “I know.”
Rhodey eyed him shrewdly, which only increased his guilty feelings ten-fold.
“You’ve been avoiding her because she reminds you of Tony,” said Rhodey. “But she isn’t him. She seems so much more comfortable in Tony’s skin than he ever did. You should spend more time with her, Steve.”
“I’ll take that into consideration,” he said, annoyed by the lecture.
Scowling now, Rhodey opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted when the elevator dinged. Natasha and Spider-Man reentered the room and she froze just outside the elevator, evidently sensing the tension between them. Spider-Man remained oblivious as he muttered to himself, moving a few more boxes into the belly of the elevator.
“Could you two help me bring the rest of these to the workshop? I’m sure Spider-Man has better things to do.”
Natasha’s tone left no room for argument. When Steve and Rhodey exchanged slightly hostile glances, she put her hands on her hips, as if daring them to try something.
“Good luck,” said Spider-Man, ducking out of the lobby.
“C’mon, boys, you’re wasting daylight.”
She left them to take care of the rest of the boxes, waiting in the elevator with one finger pressing the DOOR OPEN button. Once they were all inside, she hit the bottom button and insinuated herself between Steve and Rhodey so that they weren’t next to each other. Time seemed to stretch on forever as they rode down into the depths of the Tower in total silence.
Afterwards the three of them worked together to finish setting up the lab. Natasha focused on unpacking the boxes while Steve and Rhodey brought the last of them in. It wasn’t until then that Steve realized how barren the room had looked before. Osborn had left a lot of scars, and Tony’s workshop and armory were one of them.
“Do you think Jarvis would mind if I moved a cot down here?” she asked no one in particular when they were done.
“Don’t tell me you have the same work ethic as Tony,” said Rhodey, getting a guilty grin in return.
“I guess I’ll take of that later.” Natasha glanced around the workshop, taking in everything. It looked almost normal now. Without looking at Steve, she said, “Is Frost still coming?”
“I forgot to call the X-Men,” said Steve shamefacedly. “I’ll go do that now.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”
He frowned at her, concerned. “Are you sure? It didn’t seem fine when I mentioned it.”
“Do you trust her?” asked Natasha, deadly serious. “Do you trust her to go digging around in my head – in Tony’s head – without fucking it up?”
She was placing her faith in Steve’s judgment, something he wasn’t about to take lightly. Tony had often done the same thing now that he thought about it.
“I trust Emma. I promise you, Natasha, she’s nothing like the woman you knew. She’s a good person here.”
“She’d better be,” said Natasha, half-joking. It fell flat and she turned to Rhodey, attempting to ignore it. “Can we go out for lunch again sometime or do you have important military stuff to do?”
“Nah, I don’t mind making time for you,” said Rhodey teasingly. “You make for a pretty good lunch date.”
“Flatterer,” she laughed, punching him in the arm.
Seeing how comfortable they were with each other made Steve feel like a third-wheel and a heel. Rhodey could obviously see past Tony’s face and see Natasha, so why couldn’t he? Maybe it was because Steve could only focus on their similarities instead of their differences.
“I’d better get going,” he said, dragging Steve back to the present. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Okay,” said Natasha. “See you later, sour patch.”
Rhodey smiled at her and then gave Steve a pointed look. “Remember what I said, Cap.”
“What in the hell does that mean?” she asked after the elevator doors had closed.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Steve. “Rhodey just wanted to give me some advice on being an effective boss.”
“Uh-huh,” said Natasha, not sounding the least bit convinced. “Good night, Steve.”
He watched her saunter out of the workshop and wondered what she and Rhodey had talked about at lunch to be so friendly, so quickly.
>>>
Natasha lay stretched out on Tony Stark’s bed, wide awake. She had told Steve that she wouldn’t have a problem with Frost if he vouched for her, but she could still remember how it had felt when the bitch had raped her mind on behalf of that damned Hellfire Club.
Rhodey's a different person here, she reminded herself. There was a good chance that Frost was, too. This was called an alternate universe, after all. Even this Steve seemed a little different from hers, although that could just be her fault. Physically both Steves had the same broad shoulders, military-style haircut, sweet smile…
As if it had a mind of its own, bit by bit her hand moved down and slid underneath the waistband of her boxers. So caught up in her thoughts, Natasha didn’t even realize what she had done until she grasped Tony’s manhood. She gasped in surprise and arched off of the bed in response. This was different. She’d watched Steve and other men masturbate before, but doing it with a dick was vastly different from doing it with a vagina.
Just as she had expected, there was lube in the bedside drawer, and she hastily smeared some on her hand. Natasha flopped back down on the bed after tossing her shirt and boxers aside and started to jack off, starting with a slow and steady pace before eventually picking up speed. A fire flared up in the pit of her stomach, the heat increasing to an almost unbearable fever. She had her other hand clamped over her mouth to keep her whimpering contained. Faster and faster she went, pretending that it was Steve’s hand on her dick.
“C’mon, baby,” he whispered. “Come for me, Tash. Yeah, just like that…”
Her orgasm hit her like a punch in the stomach, knocking the wind right out of her. Semen splattered across her chest and stomach, a few droplets landing on her chin. Suddenly boneless, she just laid there, feeling wonderfully dirty. All the stress she hadn’t known she’d had was instantly gone.
Something rolled down Natasha’s face, and she knew it wasn’t semen. Tentatively she touched her cheek and found water. Her face was streaked with tears. As if setting off a chain reaction, her shoulders began to tremble and she had to press her face into the pillow to muffle the sobs that tried to tear their way out of her.
>>>
She frowns at her reflection in the mirror and attempts to suck her stomach in, only to fail. He’s sitting on the bed behind her, smiling at her antics.
“You do realize that’s not going to work.”
The only reply he gets is a scowl in the mirror. Her hands cup the small curve that’s barely noticeable. The happy spark burning in her eyes fade away, her expression growing despondent.
“She should be here. It’s her kid, Steve, not mine.”
He crawls to the end of the bed and wraps his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. Her hair is soft and short, smelling faintly of burnt metal.
“I have to admit I wish she was here, too. But I’ve grown to love you just as much as her.”
Whoever they’re referring to, he has no idea, but seems to in this dream. She twists in his arms and kisses him sweetly. For a while they simply stay like that, wrapped up in each other. Then she leans back to give him a serious look.
“So, can we have sex now, or what?”
He laughs at her tone. “God, I thought women weren’t supposed to get horny until later.”
“Sweetheart,” she says, nibbling his earlobe, “I am always horny.”
>>>
Steve jerked awake, heart beating like a drum and hands clenching his covers. Already the dream was fading, but the sensation of the woman’s talented tongue lingered like a ghost. He cursed at the alarm clock, which politely informed him that it was four in the morning, and decided to get up in favor of trying to fall back asleep.
He threw on his running clothes after taking a quick shower, and took a quick detour into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. Sitting at the kitchen counter, looking like hell warmed over, was Natasha. She was slumped over a carton of ice cream and staring into its depths, as if the contents could help her to predict the future. Before he could back out, she looked up and caught sight of him.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” he responded automatically.
She went right back to staring into the carton and Steve walked over to the fridge. He carefully examined her exhausted state and wondered what had caused her to have such a rough night. Everything had seemed alright when they’d gone to bed.
“Are you going out for a run?” she asked, instantly alert.
“Yeah, I try to get one in at least once a day.”
“I know,” said Natasha, and he didn’t doubt it. “Is it okay if I join you?”
“Uh, sure. I think Tony keeps his workout clothes-”
“In the wardrobe,” she finished. “Thanks. I’ll be back in a second.”
Steve returned the ice cream carton to the freezer and stuck her spoon in the dishwasher. As good as her word, Natasha was back in a flash and wearing a pair of Tony’s favorite sweats. He handed one of the two water bottles he’d gotten from the fridge to her, and they took the elevator down to the ground floor.
“How did you sleep?” he asked before he could stop himself.
She shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with discussing it. “Fine. Had some bad dreams, but don’t we all?”
“I had a dream about something,” said Steve, trailing off. “I don’t really remember what it was about though.”
“Well, after taking that blush into account, I think it must have been a really good one,” she said wryly. His face burned hotter and Natasha smiled at him, giving him a playful jab in the ribs with her elbow. When they stepped out onto the street, she turned to him. “How far are we going, mon capitaine?”
“A couple of blocks. You probably won’t be able to jog as far as usual, so make sure you pace yourself.”
“Yes, mom.”
Natasha let him set the pace as they started down 59th Street, towards Central Park. The sky was sluggishly turning a lighter shade of navy as the sun came closer to rising on the horizon, though Steve knew that it would still be a couple of hours until those rosy fingers would appear. They circled the pond once before she sat down heavily on a park bench, trying to catch her breath.
“Jesus. I know I wasn’t this out of shape after having Jim.”
“People don’t tend to get a lot of exercise when they spend months in a hospital bed. Don’t worry; you’ll build-up your endurance again with a little hard work. Do you think you’ll be able to make it to Columbus Circle?”
She shook her head, still struggling a little to breathe. “You go on ahead. I’ll be waiting right here on this fantastic bench until you get back.”
“Not a chance,” said Steve, sitting down beside her. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something…”
“Shoot.”
“Iron Woman,” he said slowly. “Wouldn’t it have been less suspicious if you had called yourself Iron Man?”
“Maybe, but Iron Woman started out as my bodyguard. I was known for being a bit of a feminist back in my world. If I had claimed that it was a man in the armor that would have raised a helluva lot more red flags.”
“Good point.” He rested his head against the bench and fiddled with the cap of his water bottle. “So what are you plans for the day?”
“I’m going to start working on a new suit of armor. It should be fun to start from scratch. At least I won’t be trying to work with a box of scraps in a cave.”
“Very true. Natasha, I was wondering…if you didn’t mind…”
“Yes?” she asked, sounding slightly breathless.
“Would you like to go out and have dinner tonight? With me, I mean.”
“No, I don’t mind. I’d like that a lot.” She got to her feet and planted her hands on her hips. “Sounds like a date, Cap.”
Steve tried and failed to keep his stomach from fluttering at the term ‘date’. He knew Natasha didn’t mean anything by it – knew that she still considered herself a married woman – but that didn’t stop him from feeling lighter and happier than he had in a longtime.
>>>>>
A/N: I have never been to New York City. I got the address for the Tower from the first issue of Iron Man: The Rapture, in which Pepper mentions it's located on 59th Street. I just typed 59th Street into Google Maps and went from there. Any errors are my own doing.
>>>>>
Chapter Eight
Fandom: Marvel Earth-616 and Earth-3490
Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers, Natasha Stark, Peter Parker, James Rhodes (Steve/Tony pre-slash, established Steve/Natasha)
Spoilers: post-Siege
Warnings: bodyswap (Tony to Natasha and vice-versa), alien invasion, survivor guilt, loss of spouse and child, mentions of depression and alcoholism, language, sexual content
Chapter Six
>>>>>
Chapter Seven
When Steve returned to Avengers Tower that evening after a grueling day of paperwork, the last thing he expected to find was Spider-Man standing in the lobby, surrounded by almost a dozen boxes of various sizes, looking at a complete loss.
“What is all this?” he asked, trying to remain calm. All he had wanted to do when he got home was relax, not deal with a crisis that was obviously stressing out his fellow Avenger.
“I don’t know! When Natasha asked me to take care of her stuff I had no idea there’d be so much!”
Steve sighed and managed to keep from palming his face. It appeared that she was going to take him up on his offer to use the workshop, but what on earth could she have possibly ordered?
The building’s doors slid open and Natasha walked in with Rhodey following close behind. She clapped her hands at the sight of the mess, looking positively delighted, while Rhodey just seemed amused by the situation.
“It looks like everything’s here,” she said to him with childlike glee.
“Oh, you’re definitely Tony’s twin.”
Ignoring the comment, she rushed over to the nearest box and tore into it, packing peanuts flying everywhere. Rhodey shook his head and smiled, until he made eye contact with Steve – he glared at him, and Steve wished that he’d had more paperwork.
“Natasha, do you mind if I borrow Steve for a minute?”
“Mm? No, go ahead,” she said distractedly, and Steve wondered when she had become the boss of him, a surprisingly juvenile thought. It sounded more like Clint than him, honestly. “C’mon, Webs. Help me move this stuff downstairs while the men talk.”
“So what does that make me?” Spider-Man demanded, gathering several large boxes together.
“A spider, of course.”
Rhodey waited until the pair had maneuvered some of the boxes into the elevator and left before turning his attention back to Steve. He could be very intimidating when he wanted to, but Steve had faced more threatening people.
“I know I should have told you about her, things have just-”
“Damn right you should’ve told me,” he growled. “Do you have any idea what it was like to get an email from someone claiming that they’re an alternate version of Tony stuck in his body? Jesus, Steve. Can you imagine if she had emailed Pepper first?”
Every situation that Steve could imagine always ended in heartbreak. He had a feeling that Tony and Pepper had taken their relationship to the next level while he’d been gone, but when Tony had woken up after rebooting his brain, he hadn’t had any memories after taking the Extremis dose. Pepper had tried to protect him from the ugly truth – the war, Steve’s death, the invasion, Osborn – but Tony had refused to believe that ignorance was bliss. Nearly everyone was well aware of the fact that Pepper had been in love with him for years, and even her marriage to Happy Hogan hadn’t changed that.
“You’re right, and I’m sorry for not telling you. Calling you and Pepper should have been my first priority.”
After a pause, Rhodey relaxed and Steve did the same. He had every right to be angry with Steve, but thankfully was willing to move past it since no real harm had been done.
“She’s a lot like him, you know. It’s like they were separated at birth or something.”
“Yeah,” said Steve, feeling vaguely guilty. “I know.”
Rhodey eyed him shrewdly, which only increased his guilty feelings ten-fold.
“You’ve been avoiding her because she reminds you of Tony,” said Rhodey. “But she isn’t him. She seems so much more comfortable in Tony’s skin than he ever did. You should spend more time with her, Steve.”
“I’ll take that into consideration,” he said, annoyed by the lecture.
Scowling now, Rhodey opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted when the elevator dinged. Natasha and Spider-Man reentered the room and she froze just outside the elevator, evidently sensing the tension between them. Spider-Man remained oblivious as he muttered to himself, moving a few more boxes into the belly of the elevator.
“Could you two help me bring the rest of these to the workshop? I’m sure Spider-Man has better things to do.”
Natasha’s tone left no room for argument. When Steve and Rhodey exchanged slightly hostile glances, she put her hands on her hips, as if daring them to try something.
“Good luck,” said Spider-Man, ducking out of the lobby.
“C’mon, boys, you’re wasting daylight.”
She left them to take care of the rest of the boxes, waiting in the elevator with one finger pressing the DOOR OPEN button. Once they were all inside, she hit the bottom button and insinuated herself between Steve and Rhodey so that they weren’t next to each other. Time seemed to stretch on forever as they rode down into the depths of the Tower in total silence.
Afterwards the three of them worked together to finish setting up the lab. Natasha focused on unpacking the boxes while Steve and Rhodey brought the last of them in. It wasn’t until then that Steve realized how barren the room had looked before. Osborn had left a lot of scars, and Tony’s workshop and armory were one of them.
“Do you think Jarvis would mind if I moved a cot down here?” she asked no one in particular when they were done.
“Don’t tell me you have the same work ethic as Tony,” said Rhodey, getting a guilty grin in return.
“I guess I’ll take of that later.” Natasha glanced around the workshop, taking in everything. It looked almost normal now. Without looking at Steve, she said, “Is Frost still coming?”
“I forgot to call the X-Men,” said Steve shamefacedly. “I’ll go do that now.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”
He frowned at her, concerned. “Are you sure? It didn’t seem fine when I mentioned it.”
“Do you trust her?” asked Natasha, deadly serious. “Do you trust her to go digging around in my head – in Tony’s head – without fucking it up?”
She was placing her faith in Steve’s judgment, something he wasn’t about to take lightly. Tony had often done the same thing now that he thought about it.
“I trust Emma. I promise you, Natasha, she’s nothing like the woman you knew. She’s a good person here.”
“She’d better be,” said Natasha, half-joking. It fell flat and she turned to Rhodey, attempting to ignore it. “Can we go out for lunch again sometime or do you have important military stuff to do?”
“Nah, I don’t mind making time for you,” said Rhodey teasingly. “You make for a pretty good lunch date.”
“Flatterer,” she laughed, punching him in the arm.
Seeing how comfortable they were with each other made Steve feel like a third-wheel and a heel. Rhodey could obviously see past Tony’s face and see Natasha, so why couldn’t he? Maybe it was because Steve could only focus on their similarities instead of their differences.
“I’d better get going,” he said, dragging Steve back to the present. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Okay,” said Natasha. “See you later, sour patch.”
Rhodey smiled at her and then gave Steve a pointed look. “Remember what I said, Cap.”
“What in the hell does that mean?” she asked after the elevator doors had closed.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Steve. “Rhodey just wanted to give me some advice on being an effective boss.”
“Uh-huh,” said Natasha, not sounding the least bit convinced. “Good night, Steve.”
He watched her saunter out of the workshop and wondered what she and Rhodey had talked about at lunch to be so friendly, so quickly.
>>>
Natasha lay stretched out on Tony Stark’s bed, wide awake. She had told Steve that she wouldn’t have a problem with Frost if he vouched for her, but she could still remember how it had felt when the bitch had raped her mind on behalf of that damned Hellfire Club.
Rhodey's a different person here, she reminded herself. There was a good chance that Frost was, too. This was called an alternate universe, after all. Even this Steve seemed a little different from hers, although that could just be her fault. Physically both Steves had the same broad shoulders, military-style haircut, sweet smile…
As if it had a mind of its own, bit by bit her hand moved down and slid underneath the waistband of her boxers. So caught up in her thoughts, Natasha didn’t even realize what she had done until she grasped Tony’s manhood. She gasped in surprise and arched off of the bed in response. This was different. She’d watched Steve and other men masturbate before, but doing it with a dick was vastly different from doing it with a vagina.
Just as she had expected, there was lube in the bedside drawer, and she hastily smeared some on her hand. Natasha flopped back down on the bed after tossing her shirt and boxers aside and started to jack off, starting with a slow and steady pace before eventually picking up speed. A fire flared up in the pit of her stomach, the heat increasing to an almost unbearable fever. She had her other hand clamped over her mouth to keep her whimpering contained. Faster and faster she went, pretending that it was Steve’s hand on her dick.
“C’mon, baby,” he whispered. “Come for me, Tash. Yeah, just like that…”
Her orgasm hit her like a punch in the stomach, knocking the wind right out of her. Semen splattered across her chest and stomach, a few droplets landing on her chin. Suddenly boneless, she just laid there, feeling wonderfully dirty. All the stress she hadn’t known she’d had was instantly gone.
Something rolled down Natasha’s face, and she knew it wasn’t semen. Tentatively she touched her cheek and found water. Her face was streaked with tears. As if setting off a chain reaction, her shoulders began to tremble and she had to press her face into the pillow to muffle the sobs that tried to tear their way out of her.
>>>
She frowns at her reflection in the mirror and attempts to suck her stomach in, only to fail. He’s sitting on the bed behind her, smiling at her antics.
“You do realize that’s not going to work.”
The only reply he gets is a scowl in the mirror. Her hands cup the small curve that’s barely noticeable. The happy spark burning in her eyes fade away, her expression growing despondent.
“She should be here. It’s her kid, Steve, not mine.”
He crawls to the end of the bed and wraps his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. Her hair is soft and short, smelling faintly of burnt metal.
“I have to admit I wish she was here, too. But I’ve grown to love you just as much as her.”
Whoever they’re referring to, he has no idea, but seems to in this dream. She twists in his arms and kisses him sweetly. For a while they simply stay like that, wrapped up in each other. Then she leans back to give him a serious look.
“So, can we have sex now, or what?”
He laughs at her tone. “God, I thought women weren’t supposed to get horny until later.”
“Sweetheart,” she says, nibbling his earlobe, “I am always horny.”
>>>
Steve jerked awake, heart beating like a drum and hands clenching his covers. Already the dream was fading, but the sensation of the woman’s talented tongue lingered like a ghost. He cursed at the alarm clock, which politely informed him that it was four in the morning, and decided to get up in favor of trying to fall back asleep.
He threw on his running clothes after taking a quick shower, and took a quick detour into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. Sitting at the kitchen counter, looking like hell warmed over, was Natasha. She was slumped over a carton of ice cream and staring into its depths, as if the contents could help her to predict the future. Before he could back out, she looked up and caught sight of him.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” he responded automatically.
She went right back to staring into the carton and Steve walked over to the fridge. He carefully examined her exhausted state and wondered what had caused her to have such a rough night. Everything had seemed alright when they’d gone to bed.
“Are you going out for a run?” she asked, instantly alert.
“Yeah, I try to get one in at least once a day.”
“I know,” said Natasha, and he didn’t doubt it. “Is it okay if I join you?”
“Uh, sure. I think Tony keeps his workout clothes-”
“In the wardrobe,” she finished. “Thanks. I’ll be back in a second.”
Steve returned the ice cream carton to the freezer and stuck her spoon in the dishwasher. As good as her word, Natasha was back in a flash and wearing a pair of Tony’s favorite sweats. He handed one of the two water bottles he’d gotten from the fridge to her, and they took the elevator down to the ground floor.
“How did you sleep?” he asked before he could stop himself.
She shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with discussing it. “Fine. Had some bad dreams, but don’t we all?”
“I had a dream about something,” said Steve, trailing off. “I don’t really remember what it was about though.”
“Well, after taking that blush into account, I think it must have been a really good one,” she said wryly. His face burned hotter and Natasha smiled at him, giving him a playful jab in the ribs with her elbow. When they stepped out onto the street, she turned to him. “How far are we going, mon capitaine?”
“A couple of blocks. You probably won’t be able to jog as far as usual, so make sure you pace yourself.”
“Yes, mom.”
Natasha let him set the pace as they started down 59th Street, towards Central Park. The sky was sluggishly turning a lighter shade of navy as the sun came closer to rising on the horizon, though Steve knew that it would still be a couple of hours until those rosy fingers would appear. They circled the pond once before she sat down heavily on a park bench, trying to catch her breath.
“Jesus. I know I wasn’t this out of shape after having Jim.”
“People don’t tend to get a lot of exercise when they spend months in a hospital bed. Don’t worry; you’ll build-up your endurance again with a little hard work. Do you think you’ll be able to make it to Columbus Circle?”
She shook her head, still struggling a little to breathe. “You go on ahead. I’ll be waiting right here on this fantastic bench until you get back.”
“Not a chance,” said Steve, sitting down beside her. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something…”
“Shoot.”
“Iron Woman,” he said slowly. “Wouldn’t it have been less suspicious if you had called yourself Iron Man?”
“Maybe, but Iron Woman started out as my bodyguard. I was known for being a bit of a feminist back in my world. If I had claimed that it was a man in the armor that would have raised a helluva lot more red flags.”
“Good point.” He rested his head against the bench and fiddled with the cap of his water bottle. “So what are you plans for the day?”
“I’m going to start working on a new suit of armor. It should be fun to start from scratch. At least I won’t be trying to work with a box of scraps in a cave.”
“Very true. Natasha, I was wondering…if you didn’t mind…”
“Yes?” she asked, sounding slightly breathless.
“Would you like to go out and have dinner tonight? With me, I mean.”
“No, I don’t mind. I’d like that a lot.” She got to her feet and planted her hands on her hips. “Sounds like a date, Cap.”
Steve tried and failed to keep his stomach from fluttering at the term ‘date’. He knew Natasha didn’t mean anything by it – knew that she still considered herself a married woman – but that didn’t stop him from feeling lighter and happier than he had in a longtime.
>>>>>
A/N: I have never been to New York City. I got the address for the Tower from the first issue of Iron Man: The Rapture, in which Pepper mentions it's located on 59th Street. I just typed 59th Street into Google Maps and went from there. Any errors are my own doing.
>>>>>
Chapter Eight