Chapter Text
“What am I even supposed to wear?” There was an edge to James’ voice Natasha wasn’t used to hearing. Defeat, bordering on revulsion.
In any other situation, this tone alone would have had Natasha reaching for her guns. It wasn’t that kind of situation, though. The unbeatable enemy he was facing was his side of the walk-in closet. So, instead, she held up a pair of blue earrings to her cobalt blue dress, checking to see if there was such a thing as too much blue, and said, “Clothes, dear. Underwear isn’t considered proper church attire.” Maybe her pair of silver ones would work better. The ones James had given her when they moved in together – as if his company was something she had to endure, not something she treasured.
“I’m glad you’re finding this so amusing.” Clothes hangers banged together as he riffled through his clothes. “Clint said it’ll be informal, but this is a baptism, and I’m the goddamn godfather.” He sighed. There was a thump that turned out to be James banging his head into the top shelf. “My mom would kill me if she was here now.”
This wouldn’t do. Natasha walked over to him, took his head in her hands, and stretched to kiss his forehead where a red mark was already fading. “Gray suit, white dress shirt, and a tie that isn’t blue or we’ll end up too matchy-matchy. And your mom would be proud of you. Like I am.”
James didn’t look anywhere near convinced, but he inclined his head in a single nod. “Yeah, okay.”
He had used her shampoo again. With him standing so close, Natasha could smell a faint whiff of coconut mingled with the sandalwood scent of his cologne. She was beginning to suspect he did it on purpose, it happened far too often for it to be otherwise. She couldn’t figure out why, though. His curls didn’t need the extra help and sentimental as he could be, she doubted he did it to smell like her. But then he didn’t think and rethink his every little gesture as she did. It had probably been the closest bottle when he showered.
“Penny for your thoughts?” James was smiling down at her, crow’s feet crinkling the skin around his eyes.
“Nothing important.” Natasha shook her head. What was the point of lying to the only man who could see right through her? “You smell nice. So, I might forgive you for using my shampoo.” She pushed the mop of curls away from his forehead, trying in vain to make it cooperate. It flopped right back.
“The striped one? I thought that was mine.”
Of course, he did. She sighed theatrically. “The smaller the bottle, the more expensive. So, no, that wasn’t yours. The other fifty however…”
“Can’t be that many, five at most. And I thought those were yours.” James’ mouth curled into a grin that made him look like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar and shrugged. “I’ll buy you a new one. I’ll buy you as many as you’d like.”
“Ever the romantic.”
“For you? Always.”
“Sap.”
He caught her chin between two fingers and lifted it, leaned down to kiss her, soft and gentle. “Thank you.”
“It’s nothing.” She slipped her arms round his sides. He was so warm, even when nearly naked, especially when nearly naked. No heavy tactical gear to soak up his heat. Natasha stepped into his warmth, tilting her head back to keep looking at him, letting the feeling of him and his warmth seep into her bones.
“It’s not nothing. It’s never nothing.” James’ arms enveloped her, one cool and one warm.
“This is your first time out with the Avengers in public without a uniform to hide you. There’s likely to be paparazzi despite what Clint says. And she’s your first godchild. It’s only natural to be nervous.”
“How are you so calm? She’s your first godchild, too.”
She shrugged in his embrace. “The only difference between becoming an honorary aunt and a godparent is that this time I have to sit in a church and listen to a priest for an hour.”
A smirk. “You’re awfully Russian sometimes. Religion is the opiate of the masses, huh?” he said fondly.
“You knew that already.” On stockinged feet Natasha had to stretch to kiss him, his broad chest a solid wall to steady herself against. The touch of his hand skimming up along her back to find rest at the nape of her neck send shivers down her spine. Her thin slip only seemed to enhance his touch.
“Yeah, I did.” James’ breath wafted over her face as he spoke, warm and minty. He touched the tip of his nose to hers, shaking his head minutely to rub them together. Eskimo kisses they had called it when she was young.
If not for the people waiting for them, she would have liked to stay like this forever. Having responsibilities was overrated anyway.
With another feathery kiss, Natasha extricated herself, plucked a pair of black high heeled shoes from a shelf and went to put on her dress. James was straightening a dark gray tie when he exited the walk-in closet. The light gray suit had been a good choice, the pants made his already narrow hips look even narrower which in turn emphasized his broad shoulders. Whatever she had done to deserve this man in her life, she would like to repeat it a few times to ensure that it would last.
“God, you look…” he trailed off, looking at her with parted lips and a smile.
Natasha spun, letting the skirt flow out, just to make that delighted smile on his face last longer. “Not half as good as you, milii moi.”
He dipped his head and grinned at that. Ridiculous man. And ridiculous her for being so taken with him, his smile, his everything.
Her phone beeped, rudely interrupting the moment to announce the arrival of their cab. Natasha grabbed the colorful paper bag with gifts for their godchild, smiled at the way James couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the name tag. Still so stunned by Clint and Laura having chosen to name their fourth child after him. Didn’t even mind that the child had turned out to be a girl in the grand tradition of Barton babies refusing to play along with their generous parents.
Jamie Barton was one lucky child. She had an awesome family and the best godfather anyone could ever wish for.
“You ready for this?” she asked.
A flash of silver as he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, then with a rueful smile and a wink he said, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”