Winter's Widow

Chapter 10: Lessons

I glanced over to find Natasha's legs swinging and her heels banging against the kitchen cabinets from her perch on top of the counter. "You know, Romanoff," I started, wiping my face with my forearm since my hands were covered in flour, "when you said you wanted to help me cook, I thought you mean that you were going to...I dunno...help." She rolled her eyes at me.

"Calm down, Winter. Look at me honestly and tell me you want my hands in...whatever that is." I looked up from the cookie dough I was making, blowing a stray strand of hair out of my face and swiping at my cheek with the back of my wrist again. Natasha looked up at me and burst into laughter.

"What?" I demanded, glaring at her. The former assassin couldn't stop laughing.

"You've got stuff all over your face," she finally got out, panting. I glared at her, wiping my face again. She shook her head. "You're just making it worse." I stared at her, mouth hanging open for a moment before I developed an evil plan. I reached forward, careful to hide my movements from Natasha, reaching for the kitchen hose in the sink. I grabbed a measuring cup to make it seem as though I was going to add some water to the dough – face it, she wouldn't know the difference anyway – before pushing the water on high, pulling the trigger and blasting her in the face. I watched as she stood there, hands out, sputtering, a look of pure disbelief on her face. I dropped the hose back into the sink and now it was my turn to laugh. I looked her up and down, taking in the full sight of her looking like a drowned rat.

"What's going on?" Steve walked into the kitchen and Natasha's gaze shifted from me to him and back again. I glanced at Steve just in time to see him raise his eyebrows, take in the full sight of drowned-rat Natasha then glance at me with a look of horror.

"Winter." Natasha's voice was cold like steel, and I shifted my gaze back to her. I shrieked and the electricity crackled when Natasha finally made a move to dash towards me. I backed away, rounding the kitchen island, and nearly crashing into Steve. He hopped up onto the counter to get out of the way.

"I'm not a part of this," he insisted, raising his hands in surrender. Natasha and I stared at each other over the counter, one of us on each side. I shrieked again as she jumped and slid herself across the counter, trying to make up distance. I backed away quickly, running towards the living room. I caught glimpses of Bucky, Sam, Peter and Wanda as I sprinted past. They knew enough to stay out of the way. I ran back into the kitchen pulling an unintentional risky business move as my socks found the slick floor, going into an uncontrollable slide, falling and smashing my head onto the cold linoleum. Natasha scrambled behind me, immediately shifting tactics. She slid down to her knees while still in motion, stopping herself as she almost slid past my now-prone position on the floor.

"Hey, Winter. Look at me." She insisted. I opened my eyes, looking up at her blearily.

"I'm okay," I mumbled. She looked down at me, her expression etched with amusement.

"No more running in socks," she scolded, kissing my forehead lightly. "We need your brain functional." I smirked up at her.

"Yes, ma'am." She blushed but grinned, glancing down at her soaked clothes.

"You owe me a hoodie," she grinned, and I smiled back, taking her hand as she helped me back to my feet.

"Like you've ever needed an excuse to steal one of my hoodies before," I smirked. She shrugged her shoulders, grinning again.

...

I watched as Yelena's hands once more flew up into the air in frustration. "I told you, I wasn't going to be any good at this," I mumbled, feeling bad. Yelena walked up to me slowly,