Real Love is Hard to Find

What A Friend Is

The light was too bright for her eyes and the pounding headache was doing no good for her either. Natasha groaned and turned on her side to embrace her pillow, but there was no pillow. As soon as her hands grasped for the soft cushion resting beside her, they found, instead, something hard, muscled and flesh.

She was slowly beginning to awaken, but her senses were on alert once she felt another person in her bed. Natasha's eyes widened and she jumped up to get out of bed. Unfortunately, her foot was tangled in the lower limbs of the person next to her and she fell back down, face first onto the masculine chest below her.

Natasha moved her head away when the man's arms wrapped around her, crushing her to him. She waved her arms around and tried to get loose, but his grip on her was tight. Finally, after several minutes of wriggling and struggling, she pulled away from him and got a good look at who she had slept with.

That strong jaw, flaxen blonde hair and gorgeous blue eyes let her know who the man was.

"Steve." Her voice out in a croaking whisper, due to just waking up.

Steve blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes before looking at her with a warm smile. He seemed mighty relaxed for a man who got away with cuddling up to the Black Widow. Natasha felt a blush coming on.

"Hey, Natasha...you feeling any better?"

"Feeling better than wha-" She stopped mid-sentence. The feeling of bile rushing up her oesophagus made her leap from the bed in a burst of energy and she rushed to the bathroom, where she proceeded to empty out the contents of her stomach into the toilet.

The warm feeling of Steve's hands brushed against her neck, holding her hair back so it wouldn't fall in her face. He said nothing, merely stayed with her in the bathroom, keeping her red locks out of the way until she finished vomiting. It took several minutes before she lifted her head up from the toilet. When she did, she wiped her mouth with a handful of toilet paper and groaned.

"God, my head feels like someone took a drill to it. How did I get so hammered last night...?" She looked at Steve, who handed her a Tylenol and a glass of water. She took the pill and water from him, drinking it slowly. It had been years since she'd actually been drunk and forgotten the details of the night before.

Steve sat on the edge of the tub and rubbed her back. "Thor brought Asgardian mead to the party last night and he challenged all of us to a drinking contest. You and Tony took him up on his offer; Tony passed out at the dinner table after two glasses and you drank five, surprising everyone, even Thor. You tried to get back to your room, but you collapsed before you made it through the door. I caught you, and put you to bed. You slept for twelve hours, Natasha."

The redhead wrinkled her nose and set the cup on the light blue bathroom tiles. "Twelve hours? Impossible. I never slept that long in my entire life, even as a kid. What time is it?"

"It's half-past twelve."

"Wow...so I'll never drink Asgardian mead again. I can't believe it did a number on me like that." She stood up shakily and gripped Steve's arms for support. They walked back to her bedroom and she sat on the edge of her bed, resting her head on her knees. Steve came over and pushed a strand of hair behind her ears and smiled at her.

"Well, he is an alien from another planet. It would make sense that their version of alcoholic beverages would be stronger than ours. More dangerous, too. You hardly ever get drunk."

Natasha chuckled and whispered to him conspiratorially, "Oh, believe me. You haven't seen me at my absolute worst, Steve."

"Even if I did, it wouldn't change my feelings about you. You're still one of my best friends, Natasha."

She raised an eyebrow and gave him a testing grin. He played it safe by sticking with the best friends line. Not that Natasha minded. There was definitely something between them, but she was fine with taking it slow for right now and not defining it as anything permanent.

"'One of your best friends'? Geez, Steve, you really know how to make a girl feel wanted. Which number am I? Two or three? I know Bucky is first, but I've known you longer than Sam, so I should get a little superiority."

Steve laughed and touched her cheek gently. Natasha would be lying if she said that she didn't enjoy the way Steve looked after her. In one way it was aggravating, but in another, it was very sweet. Natasha knew how to take care of herself and was very independent, but knowing that Steve would always be there for her when she needed him...well, it made those warm, fuzzy feelings come around.

"There are no numbers with me. You know that, Natasha. If you're in my life it's because I want you to be in it and you're worth it."

If the pain of her headache hadn't been such a bother, she would have started bawling right there. That was one of the sweetest things Steve had ever said to her, and he was really, really good at being sweet.

"Thanks, Steve..." She said softly, blinking back tears.

"No problem. Now, come on. Let's get you something to eat." He pulled her up and they walked down the hall to the kitchen. Neither of them spoke as they walked, but their hands were entwined the entire time.