This Is Stella's Reality

March 17, 2015

I sat on Natasha's bed, recounting the time Clint had tripped going up the stairs and pretended to be tying his shoes to save himself from embarrassment.

She howled with laughter; her eyes crinkled and her nose scrunched cutely. I smiled, watching as she held her cramping sides. "Wow," she said with tears in her eyes, "he is so stupid." She sighed and shook her head. Her eyes looked up at me. They were light with life and freedom.

Nat had never truly been able to be her own person. Like Bucky, someone was always pulling her strings, giving her orders, sending her on a mission, controlling her.

We were having a girl's afternoon before Bucky and I went to dinner. She had insisted on helping me get ready, saying, this is your first public appearance since everything happened. You have to look your best in case cameras spot you.

Paparazzi were hounding the team since the news broke. We were relentlessly harassed with constant phone calls and people knocking on the main gate. Happy Hogan had his work cut out for him. He was always running somewhere, on the phone with someone, shouting at whoever.

Anxiety jittered through me. I remembered the bright lights of the cameras from the night Bucky and I kissed on the stairs outside of Tony's party. The shouting and screaming when our lips pressed together.

The press had been mostly supportive of the team and the fall of SHIELD, but there were always those who wanted us gone. Public opinion wildly praised us. Politicians not so much. We had made fools out of them, made demands they didn't want to meet, veiled threats that forced them to bend to our will.

I pushed the thoughts away and focused back on Natasha's hands as she painted black polish over my nails. They were shiny and perfectly manicured. I smiled at her, "How have you been, Nat?"

She made a huffing sound. "Self-destructive," she said a little too easily. I laughed, and she laughed too. "Can't seem to stop myself from fucking up my own life." There wasn't sadness in her voice, perhaps just disappointment in herself. She had been seeing a slew of lovers, including Steve, over the past few weeks. I knew she hated herself for it, but she craved it at the same time. There was something thrilling about it that made her unable to resist bringing home new people.

"What are you wearing tonight?" She asked, clearly wanting to change the subject. She glossed her eyes over my body. "You should wear something sexy. Something like," she stood and meandered over to her closet.

Hangers slid over the rods of her wardrobe. I stood and joined her, wiggling my fingers to dry the polish faster. She hummed, searching for something that made her heart race. An exaggerated gasp filled her lungs, and she looked at my with a devious smirk. She pulled out a hanger that held a soft velvet dress. It was black as my nails and caught the light in a plush reflection. It was cinched at the waist, and I imagined it hugging my hips nicely.

She pushed the hanger into my arms. "Go," she ordered. "Change!" Nat shoved me into her bathroom, smiling all the while.

When I stepped back into her room, her eyes narrowed to me. "Beautiful," she breathed. "You look amazing, babe." I inspected myself in her mirror. Natasha was a bit thinner than I, so the dress hugged every curve and valley of my body. I felt a bit self-conscious, but I knew Bucky would love it. I just hope no cameras spotted us.

I sighed and turned back to Nat. She was grinning, "Have fun tonight, babe." There was an unreadable gleam in her eyes. I didn't press her thoughts; I knew she liked to keep private. Her arms wrapped around my neck, and she pressed a kiss to my cheek before hurrying me out her door.

My black heels echoed down the stairs as I searched for Bucky. I heard his laughter drifting from the bar as he stood clinking whiskey glasses with the boys. They wore bright smiles, shaking each other's shoulders from something Thor had said.