The Ghost [Marvel | Steve Rogers]

Chapter 10

Upstate New York, USA

Early Winter 2015

Steve was starting to regularly find himself in a tight spot, these days. A tight, conflicted spot.

He honestly didn't know what he'd been thinking. But the opportunity had arisen and he'd taken it. During their last sparring session, he'd reached out and—somehow—had managed to grasp her hand and before he'd even realized what he was doing, had managed to spin her into his arms.

And Nadine, ever on her toes as she was, had taken it up and led him through a few steps of a simple dance even as her eyes widened fractionally before they'd narrowed.

"This isn't another trick, is it?" she'd asked skeptically, lip nevertheless quirking with amusement as she referred to him adding her favourite song to his workout playlist a few weeks previous. He'd just shrugged, grinning down at her even as his hand had found her waist.

As nonsensical as it seemed to even think it, the moment had been...almost magical. Surreal. Surprise had flickered across her face as she'd looked up at him and nerves had prickled through him, fear that he had somehow overstepped nearly overwhelming the sudden pleased feeling that had bloomed in his chest. And then she'd stepped closer, smiling up at him as she adjusted their stance into something approximating a classic dancing pose. Her normally guarded, cool grey eyes had warmed, echoing the laugh that had escaped at his rather stilted steps in response to her much more experienced ones.

Of course, with a wicked grin she'd then segued into a twisting, neat little turn beneath his arm that had ultimately seen him dropped to the mats in a devastatingly sly attack. In a blink she'd been crouched over him, a knee pinning his elbow and her arm braced across his chest. And as she'd been leaning over him...he wasn't too proud to admit to himself that, in that moment, he'd seriously considered pulling her down and kissing her until they both couldn't breathe.

But he'd let the moment pass, forcing himself to resume their sparring instead of giving into the temptation to act on the feelings that had been growing for...well, he wasn't even sure how long, now. Feelings that he knew better than to act on, regardless. No matter how much he might want to. Feelings that his carefully cultivated self-control was having a harder and harder time keeping in check.

Feelings that he hadn't quite realized had become quite that strong.

It had certainly been an enlightening moment on top of enjoyable.

It meant that those few moments there when they'd been dancing...he couldn't stop thinking about them, now. And they were doing distracting things to his pulse and his stomach alike.

It had just felt so natural, and he had very nearly pulled her back into his arms several times since. He just couldn't quite get the feel of her in his arms out of his head, or the way she had laughed and smiled up at him. Jeez, he just couldn't seem to stop thinking about her. Though, that problem had started back before his little impromptu dance move. Though just when, he couldn't quite pinpoint.

There had definitely been a draw back at the Avengers tower, already, when Natasha had all but dragged the blonde assassin to their celebration party. There'd been a couple moments that night when he'd had to remind himself to think around her. She'd looked fantastic in the green dress Nat had picked out—beautiful and graceful and still, somehow, coolly capable and impossibly strong. But more than just her admittedly great appearance, there had been something about the brief, distinct moment between them when he had visibly surprised her by being able to relate to the antsy feeling that came from spending time away from an incomplete mission on something frivolous. From understanding what she must've felt like, even a little, at being pulled away from her work to find Nina for the sake of a party. And when she'd genuinely smiled back, grateful for his understanding? Allowing that controlled mask of hers to slip for a moment of genuine connection? Much as part of him didn't really want to admit as much, his stomach had flipped happily at having been the one to bring that expression to her face.