Winter's Widow

Chapter 67

Sorry for the short chapter, life kinda got in the way of making it longer.

Natasha's pov:

"Shut up Clint." I laugh.

"It's true though! And you know it!" He slaps his knees.

"Of course, I know it. You don't have to rub it in my face though." I narrow my eyes and give him a half smile.

"You're right though, I don't have to. But I want to, so I will." He returns the sly half smile.

"...You're mean. What miracle got you a wife?" I say.

"Wow. Ouch, Nat." He raises his eyebrows and tries to act all offended.

"I'm leaving because you're being mean to me." I turn on my heel and head to my bedroom.

"You can't run from the truth, Nat!" He calls as I close my door.

What a jackass. A lovable, loyal, best friend of a jackass. I sit down in my chair, ready to get to work. But of course, I can't do anything without being interrupted anymore, can I?

The door opens as guess who it is.

Borky Bornes. Why wouldn't he be here now?

He shuts the door and then gives me the puppy eyes. Who taught you to beg??

"What do you want, James?" I sigh.

He steps up to me, still silently begging for something unknown. He just expects me to know what he wants. I think I do know what he wants, too. Suddenly, and without warning, he drops to his knees in front of me. It scared me how violently and quickly he fell. He lays his head on my lap. He didn't use any muscle, he only let gravity take him to the floor. He made a pretty loud thud when he did that. That was at least 220 pounds of muscle and metal crashing to the floor. This man...

"What was that?" I hear Tony ask from outside.

"Uh, Bucky's shirt fell." I say awkwardly.

How was I supposed to say he purposely fell down? 'He dropped to his knees too eagerly.'? That just doesn't sound ok.

"...Are you sure it was just his shirt?" He asks in disbelief.

"Uh, he was in it." I call back.

He doesn't respond. I only hear a big sigh and then him walking away.

"You need to be careful." I scold Barnes.

He doesn't respond. He looks up at me for a moment, then wraps his arms around my waist and buries his head in my abdomen.

"When will I be free?" I sigh.

He growls at me, then lifts me up. He carries me to the bed and throws me on. I back up a little, and again, he lets himself fall onto the bed. He has a good partnership with gravity. He looks up at me with those puppy eyes again. He crawls up to me and wraps his arms around me again, scooping me up. He has me curled up on his lap. He likes holding me there. He buries his head in my neck. His breath is hot against my neck and collar bone. I lean into him and he holds me tighter. I toy with the dog tags around his neck. He lets his hands roam over me. He likes to know that I'm here. He's cute. I wrap my arms around him and rub his back. In response, he growls and pulls me even closer. He's so warm, excluding the freezing left arm anyway. For someone as broken as him, he knows love. This right here is it. This is how he loves. He puppy guards, he steals you if necessary, he wont leave your side, he watches over you, protects you, and more. This is how he shows love. If he finds someone he loves like me, he is going to keep you. End of story. That's a good thing too. He buries his head in my hair, probably because he likes the smell. He runs his fingers through my cherry red hair and toys with it. I grab his metal fore arm lightly with both my hands, just so I can hold him in return. This is a settling sight and position for me. And I'm not even being sarcastic about that. His metal arm, the dog tags, the big combat boots, the dark camo pants, the all around attitude and guarding. His appearance screams soldier. If you want the redhead, then fight me. That's how this feels. It's safe and comfortable. A feeling that a spy and assassin like me doesn't get often. It's great, to know that he cares about me. But I want to make sure.

"Barnes... Do you love me?"

"You know I do."