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Tony finds out Natasha’s seeing someone because he’s still up at four AM. He’s in the kitchen, mug of coffee in hand, when she comes to pour her own.
She’s smiling faintly, no tension in the lines of her body. Tony’s never seen her like this, but he’s pretty sure he can guess the cause.
“So what’s his name?” he blurts, all tact gone out the window from lack of sleep. “Are you gonna bring him around to meet the family?”
His suspicions are confirmed when she merely wrinkles her nose at the flippancy with which he refers to them as a ‘family.’
“I can make you tea, if you want,” offers Tony, belatedly realizing they’re actually sort of friends now. Friends are supposed to do nice things for each other.
Natasha turns to look at him, and when she meets his eyes, she smiles. And it’s a fond smile. Okay, maybe Tony should get some sleep. He’s starting to see things.
“No, thank you. Couldn’t sleep?”
It takes him a second to realize it’s a question, and another to realize it’s aimed at him. Christ, he needs to go to bed.
“Project,” he shrugs, refilling his mug. “Had an idea, wanted to get it done before the next emergency.”
Natasha humors him, asking about his improvements, about what he’s been up to lately. They work their way through the rest of the pot he’s already made, and he starts another to brewing. It isn’t until he’s catching her up on his tinkering with their comms that he picks up on something.
“Hold up,” Tony says, pouring her another cup. “That was, like, a month ago. Did I not see you for a month?”
She’s grinning at him, soft and amused. He needs to find her boyfriend and shake the man’s hand. They’ve never gotten along this well. Ever.
“You saw me last week. It was team bonding night,” Natasha says. “We started a Pixar marathon, but then had to go save D.C. Remember?”
Tony laughs, thinking of the way half the team had been so riveted by the talking toys that they’d almost been willing to let the city burn. Only Coulson’s threats of destroying every copy of Toy Story worldwide had gotten them moving.
“Oh yeah,” he chuckles. “We didn’t finish the movie, did we? We should get on that.”
She nods as Steve comes into the kitchen, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. Tony presses coffee into Steve’s hand and gets a rough mumble of thanks.
“I’ll talk to Coulson.” With a quick squeeze to each of their shoulders, Natasha breezes out of the kitchen. She looks, if possible, even more relaxed than she did when she came in.
“She looks happy,” comments Steve after he’s downed half of his mug. He’s got his Serious Leader face on, the one that Tony and Clint laugh about but that’s been known to make lesser men turn and run.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure she’s seeing someone.” Tony pours himself another cup of sweet, sweet caffeine.
“What?”
It must be the hour, but Steve looks so genuinely shocked for a second. He’s not usually this slow. (It does kind of make him look like a sleepy puppy, though, so Tony can easily forgive him.)
“Oh yeah, she’s totally getting some. Don’t get me wrong; I’m happy for her. I just think maybe we should meet the guy.”
Steve frowns at him, and he’s maybe eying him like Tony’s finally lost it.
“Tony, she doesn’t need to be protected.”
Tony starts laughing, ending up almost bent double. He gets a bemused stare until he calms down enough to speak.
“I am so lucky she didn’t hear that.”
———————————————————————-
Tony isn’t eavesdropping. The tower doesn’t even have eaves.
And it’s his place. If he wants to be wandering around at three AM in the dark, well, he has the right.
It is absolutely not his fault that Clint and Natasha are talking. (But maybe it’s sort of a little kinda his fault for listening.)
“Seriously, Nat? Is that a friendship bracelet?”
Clint’s voice is loud enough to carry, incredulous and teasing. Tony can’t hear the reply, but the half-mumbled words sound a bit embarrassed.
“You’re dating a fan. Oh my god, Nat, you’re dating a fan.” That came out probably more gleeful than Clint had intended.
“Why is that what you’re getting out of this?” demands Natasha.
Tony can’t help wincing a little in sympathy.
“Sorry, sorry,” Clint chuckles, and he’s so the only one besides Natasha’s boyfriend who can get away with that.
“Clint,” Natasha says then, and it’s so quiet that Tony has to lean in to hear the rest. “What does being in love feel like? What does loving someone feel like?”
The pause stretches on for so long that Tony’s afraid they’ve noticed him listening. But Clint speaks again, this time, there’s no trace of humor in his voice.
“It’s like- It’s just wanting to be around a person because everything they do makes you happy.” Clint sounds a little dreamy, and Tony knows he’s thinking about Coulson. “It’s safety, Nat. It’s feeling secure, letting your guard down for them.”
Tony leaves after that.
———————————————————————-
The next day, Tony bumps into Natasha as she’s getting off the elevator.
“For the record,” she says, tone completely flat, “I knew you were there.”
———————————————————————-
Sometimes when Natasha comes home from her boyfriend’s house, she looks a little nervous. She’ll turn to one of them like she’s going to say something, but she never does.
Steve is worried (not that that’s anything new), and keeps shooting Tony these looks like he’s the one who should be doing something. And even Bruce has noticed (and he’s hardly even around, usually too busy doing… whatever) which is the real indicator that they can’t just do nothing.
The worst of it is, Clint is getting increasingly edgy, and a twitchy assassin is the last thing any of them needs.
Tony is honestly one day away from calling Coulson when Natasha finally cracks.
“If I were to bring someone around, would you be weird about it.” Her voice is pretty neutral, and she says it flat, like it isn’t a question.
Tony shoots Steve the most triumphant grin he can muster and then moves over to clap a hand to Natasha’s shoulder. She’s tense like she hasn’t been in months, and she looks like she’s about to run any second.
“‘Course not,” reassures Tony, glancing around the room for confirmation, which everyone gives (some more enthusiastically than others). “We’d love to meet him. Bring him over for movie night or something.”
“Her,” Natasha informs him, looking only slightly relieved. “ I’m seeing a woman.”
She’s staring right at Steve as she says it, as if daring him to comment. When he just gives her a broad smile, she deflates, tension seeping out of her limbs by increments. She moves to leave, but stops in the doorway.
“One thing,” she says, turning back to face them. “If any of you makes her feel uncomfortable, and yes, that includes going Hulk or walking around mostly naked, Clint, Thor, you’ll all be taking an extremely long nap.”
And then she’s gone.
They all stare after her for a moment in silence, until Thor speaks up.
“What did the Lady Natasha mean, 'a long nap?’ We are not infants.”
Clint just chuckles and slings an arm around Thor’s shoulders. Tony decides the best place to be for a while is his lab, and Steve and Bruce seem to agree. They scurry after him, Steve talking about taking a nap on his couch as Bruce talks nuclear physics.
———————————————————————-
Movie night takes another month to come around. (They’re superheroes, it’s not like they really have that much free time to begin with. And it’s really hard to get all of their schedules to line up.)
Natasha seems to grow happier by the day, and she’s hardly stopped smiling (no matter how small the smiles actually are) since “the conversation” (Tony feels the air quotes are entirely justified). Nobody’s talking about it, but Clint and Steve seem to be picking up on her mood, and Tony’s starting to love coming home more and more.
When the big day finally arrives, Natasha cleans. She ropes all of them in, making sure the whole place is shining.
Coulson ends up joining them, mostly to supervise. If he and Clint disappear once or twice and come back looking rumpled but satisfied, well, nobody comments.
Tony makes a few protests, or tries to, telling her that he hires people to clean the tower. Superheroes are supposed to have Alfreds to take care of this sort of thing.
Bruce gets to stop early, because somebody has to go pick up their pizzas (no place will deliver after the last time), which Tony finds to be extremely unfair. But he’s more than wise enough not to say anything.
It takes them most of the day, especially once JARVIS forbids them from using their powers (seriously Thor lightning is not helpful for household chores). They finish with just enough time for showers and to change into Natasha’s idea of decent clothing, and Tony’s pretty sure she’s more nervous than she’s letting on.
She has them all sit in the movie theater Tony designed (nobody wants Thor or Bruce in a public theater ever again), with some very pointed remarks about behaving themselves. Steve promises to keep everyone in line, and Tony can’t help maybe gaping at him incredulously.
JARVIS alerts them that someone is in the elevator, headed to their floor. Natasha shoots them all a warning glance, straightens her clothes, and goes to welcome their guest.
Tony resists the urge to turn and look. He knows Clint is thinking the same thing, because he can see the way Coulson is holding his hand very, very firmly.
After another minute, the elevator dings, and Natasha sighs loudly enough to be heard in the other room.
“Miss Potts,” she says, with the smallest hint of disappointment.
“Pepper, please,” comes the response, and Tony can hear the smile in her voice.
Pepper walks into the theater, and takes a moment to nod at everyone individually before heading to Tony. He greets her with a kiss and pulls her down next to him, an arm around her waist to keep her close.
“I take it her mystery woman hasn’t shown up yet,” whispers Pepper, looking between him and Steve, who’s on her other side.
They both shake their heads, Tony with a grin and Steve with a frown. Pepper just grimaces in sympathy and settles into the couch. She tries to engage the others in conversation, but they’re reluctant to disobey Natasha. She gives up fairly quickly.
JARVIS announces that the elevator is in use again, and Tony sneaks enough of a look to see Natasha’s ears prick up. Metaphorically, anyway.
But it’s just Bruce, returning with the pizzas.
Steve and Thor jump to their feet and take the food from him, and he gives them a grateful smile. Thus unburdened, he sits on Tony’s free side and reaches across him to smile at Pepper and squeeze her hand gently.
Watching Natasha is starting to make Tony nervous for her, so he tries his best to ignore her. That doesn’t stop him from listening to her soft sigh and a thump that might be her back hitting a wall.
JARVIS announces that the elevator is in operation yet again, and Tony’s just decided that, if it isn’t Natasha’s mystery woman this time, he’s going to kick Bruce off the couch so she can sit. And even if this lady does show up, Tony might enlist everyone else to help run her off anyway, just for being rude.
The door opens just wide of silently (a feature Natasha and Clint had insisted upon, because nobody gets the drop on the Avengers), and there’s a breathy sounding, “Solnyshko.”
“Hey, Tasha,” says-
Darcy? Natasha is dating Darcy? Like, the assistant of Thor’s girlfriend, Darcy? Darcy, the one Coulson keeps insisting could be an excellent SHIELD agent if she stops talking and starts really applying her brain? That Darcy?
Yes, apparently. And the soft smile and warmth in Natasha’s eyes tells him that no intervention is necessary.
It takes a few minutes for Darcy to greet everyone. She seems to remember all of them by name, not just by their alter egos, and she checks in with all of them as far as their actual lives are going. Maybe Coulson wasn’t so far off mark after all (not that Tony would ever be so bold as to accuse him of being wrong anyway).
“So, what’re we watching?” Darcy asks, settling into Natasha’s side. Natasha has a lazy (though slightly possessive) arm looped around her waist, which Darcy is showing every sign of enjoying.
“Toy Story,” Clint tells her, starting to curl up on Coulson’s lap.
Jesus, is Tony surrounded by cats or something? Bruce sends him a knowing look and rolls his eyes.
“Awesome,” Darcy cheers, bouncing a little. Natasha’s face is fond and indulgent, and she strokes a hand down Darcy’s stomach to get her to calm down. Darcy leans into the touch and presses a kiss to Natasha’s cheek, who looks like she’s maybe fighting back a blush.
Interesting.
———————————————————————-
Tony wakes when Pepper does, rides with her to the airport. Happy looks away when they kiss goodbye, allowing them their privacy, but Tony can see his grin.
The sun isn’t even up yet by the time he gets back, but he goes to the kitchen for coffee (if JARVIS were corporeal, Tony would kiss him, because having coffee already brewing is a small miracle). There’s no point in trying to sleep now.
Steve stumbles in while Tony’s on his second mug. He mumbles something that might be, “Good morning,” grabs one of his nasty, healthy beverages from the fridge, and heads to the gym.
If Tony weren’t so content, so pleased, with having everyone here (with finally not coming home to an empty house if he’s being honest with himself, but why start now?), he might balk at actually having established a routine. One with other people in it, no less.
The warmth in his chest when Natasha joins him, hair mussed and only clad in one of Steve’s old shirts (hell, Tony’s just glad she’s wearing something, because they’d all found out the hard way that she usually sleeps naked), is a pretty good reminder of why he doesn’t mind all these people in his space.
He starts pouring her a cup of coffee (two creams, one sugar, shut up Tony I can hurt you) as she perches on the island. As he stirs it, the only sound is Natasha’s occasional yawn. It’s a pretty clear indication of her level of trust that she doesn’t immediately snap awake anymore.
The silence unwinds, comfortable and soothing, just what Tony needs. Natasha is his favorite person to be still with, even if he doesn’t need it very often.
She tips her head at him in acknowledgment when he places the mug in front of her.
“So tell me about Darcy,” says Tony, leaning against the counter. Okay, maybe he could’ve waited to bring it up, but she’s here, and he’s tired, and none of the busybodies they live with are around.
Natasha looks a little startled, and she shoots him a suspicious glance. She must see something reassuring in his expression, because she nods again and starts to talk.
By the time she’s done, Tony’s mostly done with his third caffeine hit, and Natasha’s started her second.
Darcy, as it turns out, is bursting with energy, with life. And she’s stubborn as a mule. (Tony isn’t surprised on either count.)
She’d been the one to ask Natasha out (which Tony found weird until he thought about it), and they’d hit it off pretty well. It helped that Natasha’s particular skill set hadn’t concerned her (if anything, Darcy seems to be just as excited about it as she is about being friends with superheroes).
They’d actually taken it extremely slowly, and Tony’s got at least five ideas on things to make for Darcy just for treating Natasha so well.
“She didn’t ask, didn’t judge,” Natasha shrugs. “She just wanted to get to know me.”
Tony is pretty smart, if he does say so himself, and he catches on fairly quickly.
“She let you know she wasn’t gonna break your heart?”
Natasha gives him a dirty look, but he shrugs it off with a grin. She rolls her eyes at him, but she lets it go.
“How does Darcy take it?” he asks after a moment or two, his brain already committing everything to long term storage (this is some serious sharing on Natasha’s part, after all).
From the scowl he receives, Natasha doesn’t understand the question. He reiterates.
“Her coffee. How does Darcy take her coffee?”
There’s a minuscule upturn at the corner of her mouth. She seems suddenly, shy, maybe.
“One cream, four sugars,” she tells him, and watches as he pours.
There’s a shuffling in the hall, and Natasha tenses, but she isn’t on alert. Tony takes that to mean they’re not in mortal peril.
A sheepish Darcy comes in, and, from the way she’s avoiding eye contact, it’s pretty obvious she caught some of their conversation. Natasha reels her in with gentle tugs on her hand.
“I didn’t, you were talking and I didn’t want to interrupt,” says Darcy after a beat, calming as Natasha’s hand strokes her hair. “Sorry.”
Natasha hums quietly, and Tony just doles out coffee all around. Thus convinced of their forgiveness, Darcy holds out two of the fingers of her free hand.
Tony blinks at her, utterly lost. But Natasha’s hand comes up, and she holds two of her own fingers against Darcy’s.
Tony suddenly gets it.
“Natasha you closet nerd,” he crows, happier than he’s ever been without Pepper in the room. “The two of you are the worst Vulcans ever. Of all time.”
They focus matching glares at him, and he can’t help but think they’re not a bad couple, not bad at all. He laughs at them, and laughs all the harder when their expressions slide into indignation.
He laughs so hard tears are starting to form at the corners of his eyes, and that’s as good of an indicator as any that he needs to leave. And quickly too, because he’s probably getting less oxygen than is necessary for survival.
The chuckles finally die off on the way down to his lab. He’s got presents to make for Darcy, after all.