Winter's Widow

Chapter 3: Road Trip

"Do you mean to tell me that you can literally control electricity, but you're afraid of a motorcycle?" Natasha's teasing voice belied the anxiety I felt as I watched her straddle the bike underneath her. She turned the key and the engine roared to life. I found myself stepping back a few paces. She looked at me over her shoulder, the grin on her face unmistakable. She was having fun teasing me. I scowled and tried to look mean. Suddenly her voice dropped, the raspy texture coming through clearly. "I won't let anything happen to you...princess." My scowl deepened and her laugh seemed to echo right through me.

"I'm not a princess," I grumbled. Natasha raised her eyebrows and extended the arm holding the black helmet again.

"Prove it," she teased. Knowing I couldn't resist a challenge, I grabbed the helmet from her scoffing as I tried to pull it over my head. It got stuck. Natasha laughed, and I caught her lowering the kickstand again before she climbed off of the bike and approached me. She gripped the helmet tightly with both hands, lifting it back off of my head before tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear that had escaped from my ponytail. She then centered the helmet and firmly pressed down, lowering it properly over my head before patting the top, sending echoes throughout the helmet. "There you go," She smiled. I lifted the visor, staring into her green eyes. I was not amused. She smirked, pulling her own helmet on before climbing back on the bike, scooting forward in the seat, gesturing for me to climb on behind her. I sighed. There really was no way I was getting out of this. I gingerly straddled the rear of the bike, settling down onto the soft leather behind her. She grabbed my hands, which were resting gingerly on my knees and wrapped them around her waist. I couldn't resist and I shocked the tender skin of her stomach through her jacket and she jumped.

"You had that coming, Natasha." I smirked into my helmet. She shook her head but didn't answer. She kicked up the kickstand, gunned the engine and took off. I gripped her waist more tightly, burying my helmet-clad head in between her shoulder blades and held on for dear life. To be fair, Natasha was an excellent driver, regardless of which machine she was behind the wheel of. As we hit a stretch of open dirt road, I heard her voice come through the speaker in the helmet.

"Let go," she said softly. I did the opposite and grabbed onto her tighter.

"Are you crazy?" I shrieked. She smiled, one hand securely on the handlebars, the other gingerly trying to un-clench my fingers from around her waist. I finally got sick of fighting it and allowed my hands to relax.

"Spread your arms," she said. Her voice was tender. I sighed in frustration but complied. The next thing I knew, my arms were spread wide and my head was thrown back, my laughs reverberating through the helmet as I couldn't contain screams of glee. She was right. This was fun.

...

Sam jutted his head forward and stood. Bucky and I followed suit, and I turned to see Yelena approaching us. Whatever she had done in the woods was now hidden – she had wiped the tears from her eyes and collected herself enough to look every bit as dangerous as she had been when we first stumbled onto her. I smiled at her, but she avoided my gaze.

"We're really sorry about Natasha," Bucky's voice was gentler than I remember it being as he addressed Yelena directly. She nodded, refusing to allow the emotion to cross her face. I scooted over on my bed, patting the mattress beside me, gesturing for her to sit. She did so begrudgingly, and I waited for her to speak.

"We were separated when we were young," she said, staring at the ground but it sounded like she was talking only to me.

"You don't have to say anything," Sam's voice was gentle too.

"She didn't talk about me?" Yelena's voice was a little shakier now. I looked over at her and caught just a glimpse of her hesitancy – her insecurity.

"She wouldn't shut up about you to me," I grinned, remembering Natasha's excitement after she had returned from Russia, despite the circumstances that had drawn her there. Bucky nodded.

"She spoke to me about you as well." Seeing a smile on his normally gruff face was still rare enough that I enjoyed it immensely whenever I had the opportunity to see it.

"Oh, I guess I'm just not special," Sam grumbled. Bucky and I both laughed at him.

"Maybe she would have told you if you could manage to stop talking for a minute," I teased the newly crowned Captain. Sam shrugged.

"You may be right." He agreed. Yelena turned her attention back towards me.

"You were her best friend?" She asked. I nodded. "I didn't just come here to say goodbye." The blond glanced down at her hands, picking lightly at her fingers. "I wanted to say hello, too." I turned towards her. She had my full attention.

"What do you mean?" I wanted to make sure I was understanding her properly. She shrugged.

"When Natasha left, when she joined shield, I just wanted to get to know her again. I missed her." It made sense. Natasha had made a life for herself here among us. She was an Avenger, and her contributions to the team were invaluable. It was hard for me to picture her ensconced in her former life, but she had filled me in on some of the details. It was a part of the reason I had always gone out of my way to try to give her the experiences that she wouldn't have had otherwise.

"What do you want the grand tour?" Sam snarked. I looked at him, my eyes opening wide.

"That's it!" I exclaimed. The three of them looked over at me expectantly.

"What is?" Yelena asked, frowning. I think she was still trying to decide if she could trust me. Typical.

"I can introduce you to the Natasha that we knew. We're going on an Avengers greatest hits road trip," I announced happily. Yelena still looked skeptical.

"Are you sure about this Winter?" Bucky asked, looking between me and Yelena hesitantly. His hesitation, however, fell on deaf ears with Yelena's response.

"You would do that?  For me?" She asked, genuinely surprised. I nodded.

"I'm doing it for both of you, and I know right where to start."

Half an hour later, I was regretting my decision when, once more, I found myself standing in front of a sleek, black, motorcycle. Yelena had already put on her helmet, her hands on the handlebars, revving the engine. She glanced back over her shoulder at me. "Are you coming?" I sighed, sliding the helmet over my head in a single motion. At least Natasha had taught me something. Yelena tensed as I climbed on the bike behind her, and she tensed again when my hands slowly circled her waist. I gripped her lightly, not restricting her movements and I felt her slowly begin to relax. "Where to?"