Chapter Text
The Soldier
“Let me do that.”
Maria’s arm fell limp beside her as she heard Natasha. She lifted it once again, grateful that the redhead couldn’t see her grimace, “I can do it.”
Maria had let Natasha change the dressing earlier that morning, just like she had even on the days that they hadn’t been talking. But she most certainly did not need her help to wear a shirt. Her body was screaming otherwise, the strain of the previous day manifesting in the form of a continuous throb in her shoulder.
Maria’s arm trembled at the effort as she tried to get it into the damned shirt. She heard Natasha hobble towards her, and the redhead appeared in front of her just as her arm once again flopped down. But Natasha caught it mid-air, her grip soft and steady.
The redhead lifted Maria’s arm slowly, her eyebrows knitting together when she noticed it was shaking, but Maria tried to pull it out of her hold, “I can do it.”
Natasha looked up and shot her a glare so deadly, Maria had to physically stop herself from cowering. The redhead completed the task, carefully pulling the flannel shirt over both of Maria’s arms, and then started doing the buttons.
The withering look had lasted all but 3 seconds, and Maria noticed the concerned expression that her girlfriend’s face was now sporting. And she marvelled – for the nth time in her life – at how the same woman could be so dangerous and gentle at the same time.
It’s the reason she’s such an exceptional spy…
“Why do you do this, Maria?” Natasha sighed as she finished the last button, bringing back Maria’s focus.
Maria raised an eyebrow, “Do what?”
“Hide your pain,” the redhead answered, her voice small.
Maria smiled wistfully, “It’s the same reason why you do it,” she replied, “Are doing it,” she added, looking pointedly at the redhead’s leg.
“And I’m not hiding anything,” Maria protested, “I’m just not used to needing so much help.”
Natasha nodded, knowing that it was her trait as well. She raised her hands to straighten the collar of Maria’s shirt and rested them there, “I was barely conscious when you found me.”
Natasha’s eyes were fixed on the sliver of bandages peeking around Maria’s neck. And Maria knew that the redhead was referring to their recent op.
“But I remember what you said to me,” Natasha whispered, “Right before the bullet hit you.”
Maria remembered it too, but she didn’t open her mouth, not knowing where the redhead was going with this.
Natasha took a deep breath and finally looked up into Maria’s eyes, “‘Hey there, hot stuff.’”
The redhead let out a dry laugh, “Like that’s the most important thing you could’ve said, even though you knew you were going to get shot.”
Maria smiled back at the shorter woman. The phrase had become somewhat of a thing between them, for no particular reason. Or maybe it was because it had seen every facet of their relationship. Maria raised her good hand to brush the redhead’s bangs away from the wound on her temple.
“It wouldn’t have made a difference if I’d said something more profound,” she murmured, “You already know everything that matters.”
Natasha nodded fondly and Maria bent down to kiss her. The redhead was just about to deepen it when they heard a knock on the door, and it was opened a second later.
“Sorry for barging in, I just wanted to see if you guys were –”
Laura stopped mid-rant as she saw them spring apart. Natasha still stood close to Maria, but her hands were no longer on Maria’s collar. Laura observed them intently – Maria trying to not squirm consciously while Natasha attempted to hide her grin at Maria’s expression.
Shooting the redhead a weak glare, Maria looked back at Laura, and she found the woman beaming back at them.
“You guys look cosy,” Laura grinned.
“Very,” Natasha quipped cheekily, and Laura laughed at that.
“I just wanted to check whether you two needed any help,” Laura said, still smiling, “But doesn’t seem like you do.”
The woman wheeled around to leave the room, poking her head one last time before closing the door, “Just holler if you need anything!”
Maria turned back to face Natasha and saw a tiny smile tugging on the woman’s lips as she looked down. She nudged the redhead’s arm, “Hey, what are you smiling about?”
Natasha lifted her eyes to meet Maria’s gaze, “Nothing much,” she said, outright grinning, “I would pay to actually hear you holler.”
The Widow
Natasha and Laura were sitting on the stairs at the front porch, each leaning against the railing on either side, when they heard footsteps approach them from inside the house.
“Hey, babe,” Clint hummed, stooping down to peck his wife’s lips, “We’re going to go for a short walk,” he said just as Maria walked up beside him, “Dinner was quite heavy. Shouldn’t have had that third helping of dessert.”
Natasha scoffed at that, hardly buying the excuse (she’d once told Clint that of the seven deadly sins, gluttony is what would make him go to hell). She tilted herself to glance at Maria, shooting her an incredulous look. But the taller woman only shook her head and smiled casually.
Natasha grinned back as an idea struck her. She took a quick look towards the couple beside her, making sure they weren’t looking, and then pouted her lips suggestively at Maria. She wiggled her eyebrows in challenge as she saw the brunette try to maintain a straight face.
She was about to up the inappropriate-gestures-ante, when Maria’s expression suddenly hardened.
“Dammit, Natasha,” she snapped, “I’ve told you to keep the crutches near you. You just never listen to me, do you?”
Sensing that there was going to be a fight, Clint and Laura got busy whispering among themselves, their eyes darting everywhere but towards them, giving them some semblance of privacy.
Natasha simply watched as the brunette walked down the stairs and picked up the crutches that were carelessly strewn on the snow-covered grass. Maria came back up to where Natasha was sitting, haughtily dropping the crutches on the step right behind her, within Natasha’s reach, before crouching to bring herself to Natasha’s level.
“Why do you keep provoking me?” Maria growled, her voice low and strict, and Natasha could only gawk in confusion.
The brunette glared at her for just a second before her eyes softened, and she quickly leaned forward, stealing a kiss from a completely unsuspecting Natasha.
Maria pulled back before either Clint or Laura could realise what had happened and winked at her. Natasha felt her ears heating up at the clever manoeuvre. It wasn’t the kiss that got her flustered, it was the fact that she totally hadn’t seen it coming. So much for being the best spy out there.
Maria stood up, the fake scowl back on her face, “You can’t always have your way, Romanoff.”
And Natasha just had to smile at the endearing irony of the words.
Clint cleared his throat, adding his two bits to take down the tension, “We should, uh, get going,” he said looking at Maria warily, “It’s already late.”
Maria nodded stiffly at him and gave Natasha a quick smirk before the two walked off. Natasha shook her head lovingly as she watched their silhouettes disappear in the darkness.
Seeing Laura eyeing her quizzically, Natasha promptly smothered her smile, but the woman caught on it.
“Uh, your girlfriend just low-key yelled at you,” Laura pointed out, “So why’re you grinning like a lovesick teenager?”
“Nothing,” Natasha scoffed lightly, failing to keep the affection out of her voice, “Just… nothing.”
Laura shrugged noncommittally, “You guys are just as weird as you’re cute,” she said, making Natasha grin.
“So,” Laura began after a bit, “Last night was intense.”
“Yeah,” Natasha said, her gaze dropping, “I, uh… I didn’t handle it all too well.”
A small laugh from the woman made Natasha look up again, and she saw that Laura had a thoughtful expression on her face. The woman smiled to herself, “Clint told me about this mission, many months ago, when you got shot at?”
Which one, Natasha was going to ask, because there were just so many. But Laura was already opening her mouth to clarify.
“The one where you fell off the 3rd storey,” she said, “And were in a coma for a week.”
Ah, Natasha thought, stifling her grimace, that one was a bitch.
Her suit had blocked the bullet, so she hadn’t actually gotten shot (brownie points to her for that), but the forced had tipped her off the edge of the building and she had crashed right on top of a car. She’d ended up breaking so many bones, the physiotherapy after being discharged had been an absolute nightmare.
She remembered that one night when Maria had found her collapsed on the floor of her quarters, the sheer pain and fatigue rendering her almost immobile. Natasha could never forget the ashen look on her girlfriend’s face as she had lifted her and placed her on the bed, concern and helplessness etched across her features.
Natasha sighed to herself; she’d been the cause of that haggard expression way too many times. But she gathered herself and looked back at Laura.
“Yeah,” Natasha answered, shrugging nonchalantly, “The paperwork had been more of a pain in the ass than all the fractures.”
Natasha expected a chuckle at that, but Laura laughed outright, and Natasha couldn’t figure out what was so funny.
“Clint had called me over,” Laura began, once she’d calmed herself, “To, kind of, watch over Maria, I guess,” she said, “To check if she was ‘handling’ it. And she was, but just barely.”
“She was either at the gym or beside your bed,” Laura went on, smiling at the memory, “Her expression used to be so tensed, I couldn’t dare to ask her if she was okay. And I didn’t need to; I could see she wasn’t.”
“But she was still composed, weirdly enough,” Laura added, raising her eyebrows in genuine question, “She never snapped or yelled at anyone, even though she looked like she wanted to. All the time.”
Natasha found herself nodding at that. It was very characteristic of her girlfriend to never give away her emotions.
Laura waited for Natasha to come out of her thoughts before continuing, “And when I finally asked her how she was doing, you won’t believe what she said.”
Natasha seriously doubted that, but let the woman speak, “‘Admin’s going to flip over when they find out that the Black Widow thrashed the President’s Cadillac.’”
Laura joined Natasha as she laughed, both shaking their heads in fondness.
“I think I’m finally starting to believe Clint,” Laura said after a bit, “You two are just like each other.”
“Which is so strange, really,” Laura added almost immediately, “Because you are also so different, at the same time.”
Laura had her wise-old-professor look on, which meant that she was going to drop some precious pearls of knowledge. And Natasha simply relaxed her shoulders and leaned back, ready to catch them.
“From all the stories Clint tells me,” Laura started, “I can make out that you’re the tamer of chaos.”
Natasha gave her a little laugh, and Laura continued, “You let stuff spiral, but you don’t get fazed by it and turn things around somehow, anyhow,” she said, “Like Maria once said: you’re unbreakable.”
Almost reflexively, Natasha sucked in an audible breath. Laura’s eyes had that same conviction she’d seen in Maria’s orbs. The one that made her want to believe.
Laura smiled warmly, “But Maria, on the other hand,” she said, shaking her head, “She never lets go of the reins. She’s always in control. She doesn’t let things fall apart, despite the raging disorder around her.”
Laura reached out with her hand and placed it on Natasha’s arm, her grip grounding.
“You’re unbreakable, Natasha,” she repeated emphatically, “And she’s relentless.”
Laura squeezed her arm gently, “It’s hard to beat that combination.”
Natasha found herself staring at the woman, the words quickly sinking into her mind. Fire and water, Clint had once said to her, but she hadn’t given it too much thought. But she suddenly got it now. And she got what Maria had said to her the earlier night.
They didn’t need each other. Sure, they helped each other with their vulnerabilities in ways that no one else probably could. But they didn’t do it out of any kind of compulsion. They were fire and water; perfectly independent individuals, with their strengths and their flaws and their demons. And yet, when they came together, they somehow made it work, defying all logic.
They’d been through so much over the years. Battles, missions, near-deaths. She was an Avenger now, and Maria was Commander Hill, Deputy Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. But they were still together, and Natasha would always be hers, regardless of what their future had in store for them.
No matter where she would go – would have to go – she would always come back to Maria, if that was possible in some way. Because Natasha was hers.
It was hardly a tangible thing, but Natasha could still feel it stronger than anything. That invisible cord that kept her tethered to Maria. The one that she couldn’t possibly feel chained by. The one that had become a part of her.
Natasha doubted if she could ever love anyone else the way she loved Maria. She doubted if Maria could. And, really, the answer was right there. And for once, Natasha didn’t feel afraid of accepting it.
“Well, why would even try any other one?” Natasha said, smiling at Laura, “I’ve already hit the jackpot on my first go.”