The gentle word, followed by Tony's hand curving against her cheek is as much a surprise as the careless mention of the labyrinth that almost cost her her life (and ended up costing her more than that in the end), it just cuts different.
They don't do this.
When Tony wakes up in a cold sweat from a nightmare in the middle of the night, Natasha does him the kindness of pretending to still be deep asleep until he can get his breathing back under control. Like she isn't a stupidly light sleeper. Normally, when her mask slips, he does her the same kindness of ignoring it.
Natasha's eyes shift up to meet his, wincing briefly at his acknowledgement of the issue. She means to tell him she's fine, and it's nothing he has to worry about when he drops Bambi's initial suggestion on her and it's like the Earth stops moving beneath them.
A heart-shaped maze. Branded on her hand where she can't escape the constant reminder. The idea slices straight through her defenses and there's no disguising the grief that flickers in the depth of her eyes, or how quickly it's replaced by bone-deep gratitude.
It's not just this. It's everything. Natasha's so damn grateful for him. Years of hard work, and he's about to just hand her everything she's fought so hard for all this time.
Too aware of the naked emotion in her eyes, Natasha looks away. She's not used to her defenses slipping for someone to look inside.
She's not entirely sure, if she lets her walls drop there will be anything there but a collection of half-forgotten memories of the girl she used to be, and can never be again. Like shattering a vase to get to the treasure inside just to find it empty. She doesn't want to leave him with empty hands and a floor full of broken shards.
"Thank you." The words are mumbled and low, barely audible, and followed by a quick squeeze of her fingers against his hip. She looks down at her hand -- bare but for the ring -- and tries to imagine a compass rose on it to drown out the lingering image of a maze shaped like a heart. (Like there was anything fucking romantic about the Quarry.)
Of course Tony has someone in mind for the design and for carving it onto their skin. (There's that flush of gratitude again.) He has connections she could never dream of: a "guy" or a "hook-up" for everything. It's the drawback of coming up the way she did. Her ex-lovers aren't exactly lining up to do her any favors.
The joke surprises a laugh out of Natasha, and when she looks up at him, the smile that tugs on one of the corners of her mouth has none of its usual polish.
"Someone told you right. Guiding red dwarf." She snorts, a measure of real mirth in her voice. Her hand presses down on his hip as she leans in and brushes a soft kiss against his lips. A reminder - to both of them -- that they're on the same team. Funnily enough, the physical component is the only part of this that is easy. Tony's an extraordinary lover. There's no need for lies when his hands and his mouth coax undeniable pleasure from her.
"It's getting late." It's a gentle prompt, Natasha's hand shifting from his hip to his abdomen. "You should eat and try to sleep."
Tony'll need all of his wits tomorrow. She doesn't want to be a distraction to him. In the best of worlds, this arrangement strengthens them both.
no subject
They don't do this.
When Tony wakes up in a cold sweat from a nightmare in the middle of the night, Natasha does him the kindness of pretending to still be deep asleep until he can get his breathing back under control. Like she isn't a stupidly light sleeper. Normally, when her mask slips, he does her the same kindness of ignoring it.
Natasha's eyes shift up to meet his, wincing briefly at his acknowledgement of the issue. She means to tell him she's fine, and it's nothing he has to worry about when he drops Bambi's initial suggestion on her and it's like the Earth stops moving beneath them.
A heart-shaped maze. Branded on her hand where she can't escape the constant reminder. The idea slices straight through her defenses and there's no disguising the grief that flickers in the depth of her eyes, or how quickly it's replaced by bone-deep gratitude.
It's not just this. It's everything. Natasha's so damn grateful for him. Years of hard work, and he's about to just hand her everything she's fought so hard for all this time.
Too aware of the naked emotion in her eyes, Natasha looks away. She's not used to her defenses slipping for someone to look inside.
She's not entirely sure, if she lets her walls drop there will be anything there but a collection of half-forgotten memories of the girl she used to be, and can never be again. Like shattering a vase to get to the treasure inside just to find it empty. She doesn't want to leave him with empty hands and a floor full of broken shards.
"Thank you." The words are mumbled and low, barely audible, and followed by a quick squeeze of her fingers against his hip. She looks down at her hand -- bare but for the ring -- and tries to imagine a compass rose on it to drown out the lingering image of a maze shaped like a heart. (Like there was anything fucking romantic about the Quarry.)
Of course Tony has someone in mind for the design and for carving it onto their skin. (There's that flush of gratitude again.) He has connections she could never dream of: a "guy" or a "hook-up" for everything. It's the drawback of coming up the way she did. Her ex-lovers aren't exactly lining up to do her any favors.
The joke surprises a laugh out of Natasha, and when she looks up at him, the smile that tugs on one of the corners of her mouth has none of its usual polish.
"Someone told you right. Guiding red dwarf." She snorts, a measure of real mirth in her voice. Her hand presses down on his hip as she leans in and brushes a soft kiss against his lips. A reminder - to both of them -- that they're on the same team. Funnily enough, the physical component is the only part of this that is easy. Tony's an extraordinary lover. There's no need for lies when his hands and his mouth coax undeniable pleasure from her.
"It's getting late." It's a gentle prompt, Natasha's hand shifting from his hip to his abdomen. "You should eat and try to sleep."
Tony'll need all of his wits tomorrow. She doesn't want to be a distraction to him. In the best of worlds, this arrangement strengthens them both.