This Is Stella's Reality

December 8, 2014

My hand swirled a glass of wine around. I watched the red liquid sway up the sides and leave stains behind.

The purple evening sky was fading into darkness. Yellow lights glowed around me; they danced in my eyes as my vision grew blurry from the wine that marred my mind.

Natasha sat across the bar from me. We were uncharacteristically silent. It unnerved me to see her so cold. I wanted to ask why. I did not feel she wanted to tell me why.

But she had agreed to drink with me. We hung around the bar of the kitchen, a bottle between us and wine glasses consistently full.

I sighed, "How have you been?"

She didn't look up at me. Her eyes were glued to her wine glass, "Fine. You?"

"Fine," my voice was small, perturbed by her unwillingness to put effort into conversation.

"Stella," her voice was sharp, "I need to ask you something."

I finished my glass of wine and braced myself for her question. I nodded, not looking at her and grabbing the bottle.

"Does Steve like me?" It's not what I had thought she'd ask. It caught me by surprise.

I stared at her, "Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering," her voice sounded distant.

"What would you do if I told you he does or doesn't?"

Her shoulders shrugged, and she looked around the room, "What would there be to do? I'm just curious."

"He does like you. A lot." My voice was a bit harsher than I had intended it to be. I let go of the tension in my shoulders, "Why haven't you been talking to him?"

Again she shrugged, and it annoyed me. She wrinkled her nose and slammed back the rest of her wine, "Are you fucking him?" There's the question I had been anticipating.

I was careful not to let my face change, "It's nothing serious." My tone was flat.

Her eyes finally lifted to study my face. They inspected every inch of my features, "Does Bucky know?"

"It was Bucky's idea."

She seemed caught off-guard by this, "Together?"

"Yes."

Her eyebrows made a movement of surprise. It was quick and disappeared just as fast, "Sharon had suspected there was something between the three of you. I thought Bucky was too possessive."

"I think it's only different because it's Steve," I looked down at my glass again. "He's lonely, Nat. And he really likes you. Can you at least humor him?"

She sucked the pink stains off her white teeth, "Sharon is angry with you." It wasn't an answer to my question.

I laughed, "I knew that."

"No," she sighed, "more than petty squabbles." Her voice was more serious than I had heard in a while, "She wants to make your life hell. She's going to separate you and Bucky, send him on solo missions or missions with her. You'll hardly see each other."

My blood ran cold. I took a long sip of wine, "Bucky won't let it happen." He had sworn it.

Her head shook, "He can't refuse. He still belongs to SHIELD."

"I won't let it happen."

She seemed amused by that. Her lips twisted into a slight grin as she took a sip of wine, "And what would you do, North Star?"