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“What do you mean you don’t like ice skating?!” you screech, a little past the point of tipsy at this point. Natasha rolls her eyes playfully and just takes another sip of her drink, as you begin to rant. “It’s so freeing and fun! I mean come on! You can glide around and feel weightless and you literally have knives on your feet! How cool is that? You should appreciate that feature! I used to skate every winter! I used to love it-” Natasha cuts your speech short with a kiss, effectively shutting you up. “I didn’t say, I hate it. I just don’t have the time,” she clarifies before changing the subject. “Did you have any ideas for date night this week?”
“I have no clue, unless you wanna go back to that italian place?” you suggest, getting a laugh from Nat. “Pizza doesn’t count as Italian. And no. I think I know where we should go.” This peaks your interest. Usually, you’re the one who plans date night. “Okay, where are we going then?” you ask, very clearly curious. A glint in her eyes tells you that she’s not going to tell you what you want to know. “Not a chance, sweetheart. It’s a surprise.” You roll your eyes. It’s the response you’d expected but not the one you wanted. You spend the rest of the night wrapped up in each other in bed still drinking and talking until you couldn’t keep your eyes open.
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Thursday night, date night, approaches slowly, and your curiosity doesn’t wane as 6 pm nears. The only details she gives you are to dress warm and no skirts. Not a lot to go on. As per tradition, you meet Natasha at the elevator at 6 pm on the dot, ready for your date. She drives, which isn’t unusual. As she navigates the slightly less familiar part of the city, you sing along to the radio and try to guess your destination, to no avail. When she finally parks the car, you’re shocked to see she’d chosen an ice rink for your date. You both step out of the car at the same time and meet half way. “Come on,” she mumbles, holding her hand out to you.
You enter the building hand in hand and find it completely empty except for the worker at the front desk. “Tony,” she answers your unspoken question and walks ahead of you a couple steps to the desk. Without hesitating, she gets skates for both of you. Warmth blooms in your chest when you realize that she knows your shoe size without having to check; she knows you that well. You find yourself humming to the music playing as you pull the skates on and lace them tightly before walking carefully to the ice. Nat takes your hand once again and steps out onto the ice, pulling you with her. As soon as her feet knives touch the ice, she’s soaring, gracefully gliding on the ice. You watch her skating circles around you with a smile on your face. At first, you’re a little rusty and you end up on your ass a couple of times, but Natasha is there every time to pull you to your feet. Eventually, you get used to being on the ice once again.
Growing up, your favorite thing about ice skating was definitely racing your siblings and friends, but this time is different. You don’t want to run away from Nat. You want to skate with her, touching her somehow if you can, watching her from a distance if you can’t. You dance together and around each other for close to three hours, music playing softly in the background.
When you return to the tower, you’re still pretty cold from the ice and you split up with a kiss. You collect the blankets and get a movie ready while Nat makes the hot chocolate. Reuniting in the common room, you lay out the blankets and both get comfy, wrapping yourself tightly. You start the movie and sip your drink. Sighing contently, you lay your head against Natasha’s shoulder and smile, as she presses a kiss to the top of your head. The movie plays in the background, as you cuddle into your girlfriend. When your mug is empty and you’re feeling warm and fuzzy, Nat takes the cup and moves it away, as you doze off. Before you slip into unconsciousness, you hear a quiet, “Good night, my love.”