Unzip Me || Romanogers || ✔️

Part 7

One pantsuit day turned into a third. A fourth, fifth, and a sixth day passed.

Every workday passed by like a dull blur. But this day was worse than most. Her negotiations didn't go as well as she planned, an annoying intern spilled coffee on her, and her pants' fabric kept rubbing weirdly against her legs causing something she hoped would not become a future rash.

Coming back home was like a breath of fresh air. She had changed out of her work clothes and had once again opted to wear the shirt Steve had lent her. It was beginning to be her favorite go-to in-home attire. Just about settled in for a night of classic Russian films and warm tea, a knock at her door interrupted all her plans.

Inwardly groaning at the disturbance, she trudged to the door to greet whoever was responsible for her not being able to enjoy her day-in.

Throwing the door open, she was surprised, to say the least, to find Steve standing there, looking worn out and mentally exhausted. She'd seen that look before. "You just come back from therapy?"

Steve didn't confirm nor deny her theory. Rather, he said, "Let's go get a dog."

Changing into casual jeans and a flowery long sleeved blouse, Natasha hesitated for a second as she watched Steve through the kitchen serving hatch. He looked tired, but comfortable in his cotton shirt and khaki pants, and she couldn't help a small warmth blossoming in the pit of her stomach. It was a kind of affection she had never experienced before.

Before she could think twice and doubt her decision, she opened one of the miscellaneous drawers in her kitchen, pulling out a small, metallic object which she quickly shoved into her jeans pocket (back pocket of course, because god forbid woman's jeans came with actually functioning front pockets) and left the kitchen to join Steve. The two of them then caught a brief ride to the adoption center for service dogs.

It was comfortable silence in the car, which Natasha didn't really mind, but she knew something was wrong with Steve that he would decide to get a dog all of a sudden.

They walked into the center and were greeted by a myriad of excited barks and tail wagging. Natasha could sense Steve's mood lifting almost immediately. The corners of his mouth moving up into his classic dimpled smile.

They were introduced to the people in charge and then were allowed to spend however long they liked with the dogs to be able to find the perfect one for them.

Steve seemed to like them all, but Natasha had a few criteria she wanted the dog to pass.

"Too loud," she commented as Steve played ball with a bulldog.

"Too furry," she critiqued as the collie shook and hair fell everywhere.

"Too... ugh, friendly." Natasha crinkled her nose as the golden haired boxer puppy jumped up all over Natasha and began licking her.

"Really, Nat?" Steve laughed as he looked up at her from his seat on the ground. "Your problem with the dog is that he's too friendly?"

"I'm not really a dog person, did I mention that?" She had her hands on her hips and looked at the cute balls of energies with an air of disdain.

"That's right, you're a black widow kind of gal."

"I see I'm not the only one who remembers things."

"It's hard to forget anything about you, Nat."

"I guess I'm not trying hard enough."

Steve tried to read her expression, but couldn't tell what she was thinking. "Come sit down next to me." He patted the hard floor to his right. "We're not leaving till we find a dog that both you and I like."