The Prince And The Rose

Flip A Coin

“So you’re on his side,” Steve said wearily, staring at her. Natasha’s green eyes were more open than he’d seen them in a long time, but her stance was defensive.

“You boys,” she said wryly. “You always make it about sides and picking favorites. I’m not on his side, Rogers. I’m not fighting for Tony, I’m fighting for what I think is right. And you know how that works.”

Steve scowled, looking away for a moment. “I know.”

Natasha leaned back against a tree, pushing windblown wisps of hair out of her face. She looked tired too, but Steve knew that was only because she was letting him see it. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, and sat down on the ground next to the tree. “You were right. Maybe I shouldn’t have started all this.”

“I’m always right,” she snorted.

He smiled ruefully. “Yeah, seems that way.”

They rested in silence for a few minutes. The warm spring breeze was sweet and promising, and for a little while Steve allowed himself to relax, pretending that this was just an ordinary day. That he and Natasha weren’t enemies now.

“New jacket?”

He glanced up with a wry smile. “Yeah.”

“What happened to the old one?”

He shrugged. “You can only save the world so many times before things get worn out. I’m starting to see why Superman wears his suit under his clothes all the time. It’s a lot more convenient in case of emergencies and you end up with a lot fewer blood stains and holes in things.”

Nat laughed at him, her eyes sparkling. “That makes sense. You’re caught up on Superman, then?”

“Please.” Steve rolled his eyes. “I’ve been caught up on him. I even watched that new one, Man of Steel. He has no concern for civilian safety whatsoever.”

“Very irresponsible of him.”

“Yeah.” Steve stood, stretching his sore muscles and letting out a quiet groan. Natasha raised an eyebrow at him.

“Arthritis acting up?”

“Oh, shut up.”

They stood facing each other, then, with nothing more to say. Steve knew he had to go. He had plans to make. But something told him that this was goodbye. Maybe just goodbye till the end of the war, maybe longer, but he wasn’t ready to walk away yet. Natasha’s eyes were sympathetic; she apparently understood his difficulty. She always knew what was bothering him, but she never mocked him for it.

“Stay safe, Steve,” she said gently.

“I’ll try.” He swallowed and glanced down. “Don’t die, alright?”

“Oh come on, Rogers,” she scoffed. “You know I’m not going to.”

“I mean it.” He looked back up and reached out to grip her wrist with one hand, almost afraid that she would just turn and leave. She did that a lot. “I need you to be okay.”

Nat’s eyes softened, but he also sensed her withdrawing into herself. He hated it when she did that, although he understood it. “I’ll be fine, Steve,” she sighed. “You should be more worried about yourself. I know how you are.” She gently pulled her wrist out of his grasp and stepped back. “See you on the battlefield.”

He nodded, already regretting the distance between them. So on an impulse, he moved forward and put his arms around her. She tensed, and he swore silently, but then she sighed and hugged him back. They held onto each other, acknowledging the possibility that one of them might not make it through this insane war. Then Steve let go and gave her his best military salute.

“See you around, Romanoff.”

“Rogers.”