WHEN STEVE GOES OFF TO SEARCH FOR NATASHA, he almost didn't want to accept that he couldn't stop thinking about her ever since this morning, ever since she wore that white dress with her red curls framing her petite face. She almost looked angelic, far-off from the witch in the broom he sees daily at work. 

And it bugs him that he can't stop thinking about it. Or her.

They were here because of work. Nothing more. He should really come back to his senses, he's done it for a long time. He couldn't suddenly throw it all away just because Natasha Romanoff looked pretty in the color white.

Steve finally pulls out from his thoughts when he finds bike trails that lead up to the forest. Confused, he wonders why she'd go there because, as far as he remembers, she hated Mother Nature. But then again, she seemed pretty fazed earlier, and this was the best place for escape if one wanted to escape from all the noise.

So, he follows the bike trails, hoping it'll lead him to her. He also tried shouting her name once or twice, but she wasn't answering.

However, he isn't expecting the sound of someone singing from a distance.

Or rapping.

Or whatever that weird sound was.

"To the wall, to the wall. Till the sweat drips down my balls!"

Steve stops in his tracks, trying to figure out where that sound is coming from. Was that...? His face scrunches in curiosity. No, that couldn't be. There was no way that it was...

"To all you bitches crawl!"

He mutters, "... Natasha?"

"Gammy! Let's take it to the bridge! Woo!"

He follows the sound, still in disbelief but nevertheless amused.

Finally, he reaches the source. And the sight's enough to make him almost burst into laughter. His Gammy was there, dressed in silly-looking robes while a bonfire was in the middle. He'd never understand why it looked like she was doing a ritual.

And Natasha – oh boy, Natasha was shaking her ass off, doing the most ridiculous dance he's ever seen her do and rapping the most absurd lyrics he's ever heard her sing.

Considering he's already seen her twerk on top of a table while singing 'Because You Loved Me' when she got drunk at their Christmas party last year– yet, this tops that in all ways.

"Your butt to the floor! You scared, you scared. Now, stop, woo! Now wiggle it. Now, stop. Woo! Jiggle it! Just jiggle it!"

His grandma was enjoying this as much as Natasha, which made it all the more funny than it already was.

She doesn't even notice he's been standing there, watching her for a full minute now. Wanting to catch her off guard, he says, "Whatcha doing?"

Natasha quickly stops, the horror seeping into her face as she turns around to find him looking at her. Grinning at her. "Oh, uh," she says, still panting, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Uh..."

Steve raises his eyebrows at her amusingly.

"Your gammy wanted me to, you know, chant–chant from the heart."

"Balls?" He gives her a look. "That's what came to your heart?"

"You know, it, uh went with the beat," she defends lamely.

"Mhmm." He hums disbelievingly, changing the subject. "Your phone arrived. I'm gonna go into town to pick it up, wanna come?"

Her face lights up. "Oh, yes, I'm coming with you. I want to go." She's going over to his side when she suddenly turns back around. "Oh, hold on. Gammy, is it okay if I go with him?"

Gammy only smiles. "Whatever you do is what shall be."

Steve looks at her confusingly.

Natasha doesn't get it either, so she asks again, "But you're okay if I go?"

Gammy chuckles, ushering her to Steve's direction. "Yes, go. Go."

Natasha smiles in return. "Bye, Gammy."

Steve waits until she's by his side, and he releases a round of laughter he's been trying to hold for a while. "You're a freaaaak," he tells her.

She pouts. "Shut up."

But he's still laughing, so she punches him in the arm again. "Ow!" he yelps, but the smile on his face still remains. "You should do that at our next Christmas party."

"Never speak of it. I'm serious about cutting your balls off in your sleep," she threatens him but fails miserably when Steve merely smirks at her.

"You seem to have a thing for balls, huh."

Natasha pinches him in the arm this time.

"Ow! Okay, okay. I'll stop!"

He doesn't admit it, but he thought she looked cute. No matter how crazy she is.

When they arrived in town (Natasha was a lot more comfortable riding boats now), it was already close to afternoon, yet the place was still far from crowded. If this was New York, one couldn't even get a needle to drop since the people were packed like sardines.

But then again, this was Connacht. A mystical faraway land that's owned by Steve's family.

They enter a general store, but Natasha doesn't fail to notice that its name is Rogers' General Store.

The doorbell chimes. As expected, they were the only people in the store other than the one behind the cashier. "Hey, buddy." Steve greets.

The man turns around, and Natasha scrunches her face when she faces Howard Stark again. Why is this man showing up everywhere? It makes it harder for her to forget the memory of him dancing on her lap.

"Steve, hey!" Howard greets.

"You got that phone I ordered?" Steve asks, closing the door behind them.

"Ah. Yes, it came in. How are you?"

"Great. You?"

"Good."

Natasha looked around, observing the things they were selling around the store. She was unfamiliar with some because most looked old enough to be found in antique stores. Everything looked well-preserved, as much as it seemed very expensive.

"Bonjour, mademoiselle." She almost flinches when Howard's suddenly at her side, flashing her a cocky smile.

"Hey, hi." she only says.

"You're looking extremely gorgeous today," he flirts.

Natasha smiles politely, trying to see where Steve went. He's at the far back, unboxing her new phone. Her gaze focuses back on Howard. "Thank you, Howard."

Howard takes a step closer to her. "So, any chance I could see you again at the bar?"

She chuckles awkwardly.

But before she can reply, Steve steps in, "Don't get too excited, Howard." He hands her the phone, remarking, "I think you made quite the impression on him."

"Oh, she really did," Howard says, winking at her.

"Mhmm. I think the part where I bursted into tears really brought us together," she reckons.

"A girl who's hot and has a sense of humor too. Nice. I envy you, Steve. She's too good for you." Howard says, suddenly taking her hand and lightly kissing it.

"Oh, uh–okay. Thank you." She says, surprised.

Steve gently pries her hand away from his grasp, holding it instead. "Yes, she definitely is. But she's still my fiancée, Howard."

Howard clicks his tongue. "Bummer." He glances at her again, throwing a flirtatious look. "It's not too late, mademoiselle."

Steve rolls his eyes while Natasha lets out a small laugh. 

"He's charming," she says when Howard finally leaves them.

"Of course, he is. He's Howard Stark," Steve grumbles. Then his gaze lands on something else. "Come on."

Natasha notices that he hasn't let go of her hand yet, and it surprises her that she prefers to keep it that way.

He leads her to the food section of the store. "Guess what? Fun fact about Steve number eleven..." He grabs a pack of chips from the aisle. "I like Doritos."

"Huh," she says, "Surprisingly, I kind of expected that."

"Really?"

"I mean, you do have the body ratio of a Dorito."

Steve frowns. "Okay, that wasn't what I was expecting to hear." But then, a sneaky smile slowly spreads across his lips. "So, you do check me out."

Natasha flusters. "I do not!" she defends. "Is it a crime to observe people now and assume their body ratio?"

Steve raises an eyebrow. "You're Natasha Romanoff. You never assume. You conclude." 

Damn, he's right.

"Fine, I guess you could say we're even because you checked me out too."

It was Steve's turn to blush. "It was an accident! And I told you to stop bringing that up." He clears his throat awkwardly. "Anyway, Doritos is my favorite snack. And, uh, it's Coke, never Pepsi. And beef jerky."

Natasha sends him a look. "What are you, thirteen?"

"Mmm. You can't forget your childhood."

"That's because you're still in yours."

"Haha. Funny."

They ran out of words after that. And Steve finally looks down, realizing that he's still holding her hand this entire time. He quickly lets go. "Uh, sorry," he stammers.

After that, they avoided each other's gaze again, yet their faces were as pink as peaches.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

"Oh my God. I have thirty-seven messages," Natasha declares, looking through her phone. Steve gently ushers her to his left side so she's walking on the sidewalk instead of the road.

Silence drowned them, and only the swishing sound of the plastic bag in Steve's hands could be heard throughout.

"You know, I don't get why you ever wanted to leave all of this in the first place." Natasha wonders, making small talk. "Everyone gives you free stuff. It's so easy."

"It's too easy," Steve deduces. "As a kid, all I wanted to do was get out of here. Try something different."

"Yeah, I can just picture you. All the other boys reading, fields and streams, sitting on a can while you collect your little worn-out copy of The New Yorker."

Steve chuckles.

Natasha smiles, looking up from her phone to glance at him. "But I guess the real question now is..." Her tone becomes more serious. "... are you staying in New York because you wanna stay in New York, or are you trying to prove something to your father?"

He pauses, glancing at her. Not exactly frowning, not smiling either, just... thinking.

Was he? Trying to prove something? Maybe he is. But there's nothing wrong with that, right? He could easily do what he's happy doing and, at the same time, aim to prove to his father that he's serious about the choices he makes in life. And he isn't just doing this for shallow, petty reasons.

This isn't about him. But, at the same time, it is about him.

Of course, he knows the answer to her question. But he's not that comfortable telling her yet. So, he deflects the question back at her. "I could ask you the same thing," He's studying her gaze. "what made you choose New York over and over again?"

It was Natasha's turn to stay silent. Something shifts in her eyes.

Why are you so desperate to keep your life here in New York?

To the point where she even allowed herself to spend a weekend in Ireland with him and his family? She's a big editor in the city. Even if she does get deported to Canada, there'd still be numerous publishing houses most likely willing to hire her.

So, what made New York so special?

"I don't know," Natasha admits, looking at him.

And whatever Steve was about to say next got stuck in his throat because the only thing he was noticing right now was how there was a bit of blue in Natasha's green eyes. He thought they were a purely terrifying, striking green all this time, but no. It had flickers of blue in them too. And standing this close to her without any restrictions made him feel—

"Shit."

That snapped him back to reality. "What?" he asks.

"I need to talk to Nick," she suddenly says.

Steve frowns. "Okay?"

"I just remembered that Nick finally agreed to do Oprah but only if I could find him another artist to create a new line for the edition." She curses under her breath, "I need to talk to him."

He wasn't following. "What? A new artist–"

"I need to get to a computer. I left my laptop back at your place. Find me a computer." She says hurriedly, nudging him on the chest.

"In Connacht?"

She looks at him as if he asked a dumb question. "Yeah?"

Steve shakes his head. "Alright. I'll see what I can do."

She had no idea computers here were almost as old as his Gammy.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Natasha is looking at the weird-looking, big box in front of her with lost eyes. "What on earth is that?" 

"It's a computer."

"That is not a computer."

Steve hands her a couple of coins. "Okay, so when it runs out, it gives you a warning. Just put in more dimes."

"Does this even work?" she asks incredulously, looking at the 'computer' warily.

He sighs, "Just try it. Here you go."

She scoffs. "You're kidding. Dimes?"

But Steve's not looking at her. He's looking at something far beyond her, out the glass walls. His eyes caught sight of a brunette walking by, a couple of kids following her. She somehow catches his gaze and sees him through the clear glass, waving at him.

"You're not kidding?" Natasha asks again, noticing him gone quiet.

"I'll be outside," Steve tells her, distracted.

"But what am I supposed to–"

"Yell if you need me. You'll be fine."

Then he's already out the door.

Natasha knits her eyebrows at the computer, baffled at its antique state. She looks around, trying to find the coin dispenser. "Okay, I can figure this out. I'm smarter than computers." She finally finds the slot Steve told her about earlier and puts the coins in. "Ah ha. There you go. Now..."

Suddenly, there's a weird static noise filling the air. Is it connecting?

What the hell was happening with this computer?

Thankfully, a few seconds later, the screen lit up and finally showed a tab that was familiar to her eyes. S.H.I.E.L.D Publishing, it read. She scrolls through her emails and waits for the computer to load and process them.

While waiting, she finds herself looking out the glass pane, unknowingly trying to find where Steve went. And, to her dismay, she finds him sitting outside and having a lovely chat with his ex, Peggy Carter.

And you know what's the weird part about that? Not that her fiance was talking with his ex-fiance, but the fact that she suddenly felt a heavy weight on her chest, a gloomy cloud over her head, and the sudden, ridiculous feeling of discomfort at the sight of them happily chatting in such proximity.

Why was she bothered by them? Was this jealousy she was feeling?

But why? This was supposed to be a business deal, right? It's not like Steve owes her more than what he's already doing for her.

Man, get a grip, Natasha.

Still, it was hard not to look at. She tears her glance away from them. The feeling like a heavy brick was just dumped on her was still not going away. And she's scared of the possibility that it just never might.

Maybe she just thought that...

That what? After those little heaps of moments you two shared in the bedroom and in the store, he suddenly genuinely likes you?

Yeah, it was stupid to even think of it in the first place. This was a signal she misread and one that she wouldn't have the liberty of making again. So, she turns her gaze back to the computer, trying to ignore the sickening feeling of being wrong.

Unbeknownst to her, she decided to look away when Steve decided to look back.

"So, is New York giving you a hard time?" Peggy asks.

Steve glances back at her, pursing his lips at her question. "Well, yeah. I mean, it's not easy. People drink and smoke more. The streets smell awful. But the work I'm doing... I love it. Even if my dad never takes it seriously, I know I'm doing something I'm proud of."

Peggy smiles. "I'm glad to hear it. And I take it you're happy where you are?" Her eyes subtly go in the direction he was staring at earlier, and when he realizes what she's implying, his cheeks faintly turn pink.

"Oh, I-uh." He clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck shyly, unsure what to answer. But one thing was clear, his blue eyes look brighter than before. "Yeah. Yeah, I think so."

And just like that, Peggy knew that the part she had hung onto with Steve was now buried deep in the past.

She knew it once she saw the reflection of mirth in Steve's blue eyes, that it held no longer the image of her chocolate brown eyes and red-lipped smile but the portrait of his fiancee', the girl with scarlet curls and emerald-green eyes that had somehow picked the pieces of the heart of the man she had once loved, and the heart of the man that she had once broken.

The sight of the diamond ring she refused to put on her finger will forever haunt her memories. 

Steve was once hers, but now, he was another's. And it's a chance she'll always lose and, perhaps, always regret.

He's moved on, and it's time for her to do the same. So, now, the best thing she can do for him is smile and say, "I'm glad."

His lips twitch up into a small smile, and he takes a step closer to pull her into a hug.

Peggy shuts her eyes, relishing in the last warmth of his embrace, finally ready to let him go.

--

hi, yes I am still alive and breathing 

I have been gone for so long that I'm spending my time rereading my stories to write the next chapters LOL