Tony stepped into his room, finally looking for a moment of peace.
Instead, a fist came flying at his face.
His reflexes kicked in.
He caught the wrist mid-air, twisted, and spun his attacker toward the wall, pinning them with a grin already forming on his face. He made sure to hold back.
"Well, hello to you too," he said.
Natasha looked up at him with a smirk. Her hair was tied back, her eyes sharp, and her form was still lethal despite her now unenhanced body.
"I knock. You dodge. We talk. That's how this works, right?" she quipped, kneeing him lightly in the thigh.
Tony grunted, pulled her back, and they shifted into a blur of movement. She ducked under his arm, swept his legs, and he landed hard on the floor with a thud. He laughed, even while flat on his back.
"You got a lot to learn, Mr. Stark."
"You're enjoying this," he said, still catching his breath.
Natasha stepped over him and held out her hand. "A little. You've been avoiding me. Was Yelena really that fun to hang out with?" Her voice had a hint of jealousy, and Tony understood why.
He grabbed her hand and yanked her down on top of him, flipping her in the process.
"Jealousy looks good on you," he teased, brushing a strand of red hair from her face.
Her eyes narrowed playfully. "You've been holed up with Yelena and Melina for days. Training, planning, plotting. Not even a little peek into my room. We live on the same island."
Tony raised an eyebrow. "So… this is you being mad?"
"No. This is me being annoyed. Mad would've left bruises."
"Annoyed, huh? Good to know. So when you nearly dislocated my shoulder five seconds ago, that was just foreplay?"
Natasha rolled her eyes. "Please. If I wanted to hurt you, you'd be on a stretcher talking through a feeding tube."
She moved to roll off him, but Tony flipped her again, landing softly on top this time, careful not to put weight on her.
"I'm just saying," he said with mock seriousness, "you do tend to get a little stabby when you feel ignored."
"Oh, poor billionaire genius feels attacked by the girl he ghosted all week?" Natasha replied sweetly, jabbing two fingers into a pressure point in his side.
"Oow!" Tony yelped and rolled off. "Okay, wow, that was rude. That was a cheap shot."
She stood and dusted herself off, smug. "That was restraint. I could've gone for the spleen."
He sat up and grinned. "I like my spleen. It keeps the rest of me company."
Tony got to his feet, brushing imaginary dust off his shirt with dramatic flair. "So what now? We spar, flirt, and pretend we're not emotionally constipated adults avoiding a real conversation?"
Natasha cracked her neck. "Exactly."
She lunged again. But this time not to strike but to feint. Tony leaned back with a cocky smile, but her foot swept toward his ankle.
He jumped just in time.
"Okay, so we're doing this," he said, circling her. "Cool, cool. Just remember: you break it, you buy it."
"I already own half your dignity, Stark."
"Oh, that's all I had left?" He ducked a jab, spun around, and flicked her forehead mid-dodge. "My mistake."
Natasha blinked, stunned for a beat. "Did you just flick me?"
"Precision attack. Critical damage." He waggled his fingers like a magician. "Your ego might not survive the next one."
She pounced. This time she grabbed his arm, twisted it behind his back, and kicked his knee just enough to send him stumbling. She was very good at hitting pressure points. Despite his evolved body, Tony felt the sting.
He caught himself on the wall, laughing. "Wow. Okay. That's some grudge you're holding. I didn't not visit you out of spite, you know."
"You're Tony Stark. If you avoid someone, it's either strategic, or you're scared."
He tilted his head. "I am never scared."
She smirked. "Then it was strategic. Which means you're avoiding me because of... what? Feelings?"
Tony paused, hands raised in surrender. "Okay, you want honesty? You terrify me. Not because you're beautiful, not because you used to be enhanced, and definitely not because you keep threatening my spleen…"
She raised an eyebrow. "Then what?"
"Because I like you," he said simply. "And liking you usually ends with me emotionally unstable and horny. I keep remembering that little moment we had back in Malibu. It gets in the way of my work."
There was a moment of quiet.
Then Natasha stepped forward, grabbed the collar of his shirt, and gently headbutted him in the chest.
"Hey! That's not how normal people respond to heartfelt confessions."
"I'm not normal," she said. "And you've been gone all week without saying a word. Training, building, saving the world. Great. But I'm not furniture, Tony. I don't sit quietly and collect dust."
He smiled softly. "You're right. You're more like... a dangerous house cat. Always judging me from the shadows."
"And occasionally clawing your face."
She smirked. Then her knee shot up again.
Tony barely twisted away in time. "Okay, okay! Truce, truce!" he said, laughing. "You win. I hereby swear to make time in my busy schedule of world-saving to pay attention to the terrifying redhead."
Natasha crossed her arms. "And?"
"And…" He stepped closer and lowered his voice. "I'll stop ghosting you. Even if it means you'll punch me in the kidneys once a week as a bonding ritual."
She grinned. "Twice a week. Minimum. Plus, a couple of kisses with cuddles."
He held out a hand. "Deal. Cuddles and kisses. I can work with that."
She slapped it away. "Let's spar first. I want to see what my sister taught you. Then we'll talk about deals."
Tony sighed, mock-dramatic. "You know, most people just talk over coffee."
"Yeah, well... I'm not most people."
Then she smiled and charged.
Tony braced. "God, I missed you."
[Outside Tony's Room – Moments Later]
Yelena stood with the food tray in hand. She cooked grilled chicken, rice, and gravy, and made one of those ridiculous mango smoothies Tony pretended not to like but finished every time. It was supposed to be their daily ritual. Lunch. Sarcasm. Strategy talk. Sometimes silence, sometimes bickering. Always comfortable.
But today, the sounds coming from behind the door weren't comfortable.
They were flirting. Teasing. Familiar in a way that hit too hard.
Yelena frowned and shifted the tray. She wasn't eavesdropping, not on purpose. But the voices carried. The laughter. The jabs. And then…
She peeked through the window... just a glance. A bad idea. A moment she couldn't unsee.
Natasha, straddling Tony on the mat.
His hand shamelessly sliding over her backside and squeezing her butt cheeks.
Her lips were on his.
Natasha was kissing hard while grinding her hips on his crotch.
Something twisted in her chest.
She'd felt that before. With Natasha, it was practically their rivalry during the Red Room days. They fought over... who fought better, who got the mission, who made the kill shot. But this wasn't a rivalry. This wasn't competition.
And she didn't even know why.
She backed away, silent and quick. A Widow through and through.
By the time she hit the hallway corner, her expression was blank. Professional. The tray was still in hand, the smoothie shaking slightly as her grip tightened.
She didn't let the crack show.
Inside was a storm she didn't understand.
Yelena never needed anyone.
So why did this feel like a betrayal?
[Training Deck – Ten Minutes Later]
Yelena slammed a combat drone into the wall with enough force to crack its frame. The mechanical arm sparked and sputtered as it dropped, twitching. Another drone tried to flank her. She pivoted, elbowed it hard enough to cave in the sensor array, then drove a knee into its core.
Just kept moving. Hitting. Breaking.
Each strike sharper. Faster. Filled with too much power.
'Why does it matter?'
'Why the hell does it matter?'
'He's Tony. He's Tony and she's Natasha. You knew this could happen.'
'I should have given proper hints. Maybe I should have... I don't know. Be a little more forceful or clingy?'
'Arg! What's the point of thinking about that now?'
But she hadn't felt it until now.
That invisible thread.
The one that tugged tighter every time he brought her breakfast when she overslept. Or when he sat beside her during strategy briefings and muttered dumb jokes under his breath just to make her smirk. Or when he built her a custom gauntlet without being asked, just because she hated the old one.
And maybe she thought... maybe she hoped that she wasn't just another Widow to him.
The next drone surged forward.
She ripped it in half.
Metal clattered to the floor.
She stood there, breathing hard, fists clenched.
And then the door opened behind her.
"Whoa," Tony's voice said lightly. "You trying to break my entire drone squad today or just the ones with feelings?"
Yelena didn't turn around. "Didn't know they had any. Like their creator."
Tony blinked. "Okay, wow. Rude. I brought mango smoothies."
She still didn't look at him. "Give it to Natasha. She seems to like your... offerings."
Tony narrowed his eyes. "Okay. What the hell's going on?"
"Nothing," she said flatly, brushing past him toward the exit. "I just needed to hit something."
Tony grabbed her wrist gently, pulling her back. "Hey. Talk to me."
She yanked free, her glare sharp. "Don't worry, Tony. I'm not jealous."
"Jealous?" he repeated, confused. "Of what?"
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