Winter's Widow

Chapter 13: Reckless

"No, Nat, I'm not doing it. This is so fucking stupid!" I was being dragged towards the quinjet by an all-too-eager ginger who was not only tugging me in a direction I did not wish to go, but couldn't stop grinning at me like an idiot while pulling me along.

"You've got to live a little, Winter!" Natasha called back to me, laughing. She high-fived Clint who then climbed in and slid easily into the pilot's seat.

"You cannot be serious, Natasha." I tried to dig in my heels, but it had little to no effect. When that didn't work, I tried electricity. She winced a little, but the gloves that covered her hands shielded her from the brunt of the voltage. She abruptly stopped walking, spinning in my direction and causing me to bump into her.

"This is happening, Agent Winter. Consider it part of your training." She climbed onto the jet, leaving me with little choice to follow. I didn't have a physical leash on me, but with her I may have well had. She had a sneaky way of getting her way regularly, and I'm pretty sure she was cheating somewhere. I glared at Clint as I strapped to the seat behind the pilot's seat.

"You too, Barton?" He laughed and shook his head.

"She threatened to kick my ass again and it's a part of your training." It was times like this when I wished for laser eyes. They would have come in handy. I gripped the hand rests tightly as Clint lifted us into the air smoothly. I stared at my best friend, cursing everything Russian in my head.

"This is fucking reckless." I spat at her. She just smirked and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Don't take it out on me that you're a wuss that's never jumped out of an airplane." I bristled. She knew how to get under my skin, how to use my competitiveness against me. As we began to reach altitude, Natasha pulled me to my feet, spinning me away from her, clicking things into place.

"What are you doing?" I asked, looking over my shoulder.

"I'm jumping with you, idiot," she smirked at me. I felt a surge of relief sweep through my body. I was still going to throw myself out of a perfectly good, moving, functional, airplane, but at least I knew she wouldn't let anything happen to me. We waddled awkwardly together towards the jump door, hesitating for only a moment as we approached the edge. "Are you ready, принцесса?" I glared at her over my shoulder at the nickname.

"I'm no...." She jumped. I shrieked. When it came to skydiving, it seemed, I was in fact a princess. When we landed, she helped remove my gear, smiling up at me proudly.

"Sometimes it's good to be a little reckless."

...

I followed Yelena out the door once I was able to semi-recover from what I thought had just happened. Truth be told, I wasn't sure. We caught the subway across town to a decent Spanish restaurant. Yelena took interest in this menu as well, but still left the ordering up to me. We sipped on margaritas and as we waited for the food to arrive and shared a basket of chips, a Latin live band started playing and the dancefloor filled rapidly. I looked up as Yelena stood, holding out her hand. "Come on." I blinked first at her tone. Second at what I thought she was implying.

"Oh no, you saw me the other night. I don't dance well." She smirked at me, still holding out her hand.

"Don't be scared, принцесса." I glared at her. How the hell was it that these two were so much alike when they hadn't spent very much time together for 21+ years? I sucked my lip through my teeth as I stared up at her, weighing my options. Finally, with a shrug, I took her hand and rose reluctantly to my feet. She led me out onto the dancefloor and held out her arms in a rather formal-looking pose.

"What are you doing?" I hissed. She rolled her eyes at me and positioned me into what I deemed was acceptable. Then she started moving me around the dance floor. I have to be honest; I didn't really know I could move like this.

"Now, this is dancing," she smirked at me. I had to give her credit, she barely winced when I repeatedly stepped on her toes. I tore my eyes away from my feet momentarily to look up at her, which was a mistake. I felt her arm wrap around my waist securely as I nearly tumbled over. "Such a klutz." She rolled her eyes at me. I cleared my throat and straightened myself up.

"Oh, look. Food." I heard Yelena laughing behind me as I abruptly turned away from her, heading back towards the table. We played a game of cat and mouse while we ate – the game of who could catch the other staring. I had to pause shoving tacos into my face when Yelena came up with another question.

"The lights, the electricity, the shocks. That's you, right?" She watched my face closely as I thought about my answer.

"Yeah, it's me. Sometimes I don't have a lot of control, if I'm feeling something really strongly." She nodded, processing the information.

"Could you always..." perhaps she sensed it was possible that she was treading on dangerous territory, so I smiled as reassuringly as I could, given the subject.

"Remember when I told you about the Battle of New York?" She nodded, waiting for me to continue. "When the Avengers were in the quinjet firing on Loki at Stark tower, I was on the ship." I took a deep breath, trying to will away the lingering feeling of panic that I felt from that day.

"You don't have to." Yelena was staring at me almost sympathetically. I chuckled to myself. If anyone understood about residual traumatic memories, it was those two.

"When Loki's scepter struck the jet, the engine wasn't it's primary point of contact. It was me." Yelena frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"Loki's scepter blast hit me and nearly electrocuted me. I woke up later, and Natasha helped get me back to Shield." I had trouble reading the expressions that were traveling across her face. "I didn't have these...abilities until after." She took a deep breath, sitting back into the booth watching me.

"So, you didn't have a choice," she said finally. I nodded. "I get it." We finished our meal, walking slowly back to the apartment in silence. When we entered the apartment, Yelena pulled away from me. "I think my clothes are still wet from this afternoon," she said softly. "I'm going to go take a shower."

"Yelena." She turned back to me as I approached her. I slowly cupped her cheek in my hand, staring into her eyes for a moment before kissing her softly. She gasped, but didn't pull away. I moved my other hand behind her neck, leaning further into the kiss, parting my lips slightly. After a few minutes, I pulled away. Yelena stared at me, panting slightly. She stuttered slightly before she was finally able to form words.

"What was that?" I smirked at her, tracing my thumb over her bottom lip.

"That's a kiss, silly. Surely you've been properly kissed before."

"Natasha was the flirt. I was just taught to be a killer." She bit her lip and stared down at the ground. Shit. She recovered quickly, however, and shook her head.  

"Yelena, I'm sorry." I caught her hand in mine, squeezing her fingers. By the time she looked back up at me, she was smiling again. She turned away, but flashed a smile over her shoulder as she walked.

"It wasn't so bad, though." I laughed, heading towards the bedroom and changing into my pajamas before carefully laying out Yelena's blanket and crawling between the covers. Thirty minutes later, I felt the bed dip beside me.

"Goodnight, Yelena."

"Goodnight, Kasey."