Chapter Text
February 2013-Brooklyn Heights
Natasha stood outside the gym for a few seconds before going in.
Snow was falling again, clinging to her jacket and melting in her hair. She could have turned around and gone back to the Tower. She knew that training room by heart. Every bag, every mat, and even every rack. She also knew her mind would just keep circling the same things if she did.
It would go back to Halley moving out, Brandon slipping away, and the Phoenix base they'd broken into.
Clint was still at the farm with Laura and the kids, so that meant no one to spar with. And Stark's training bots were only fun until she broke them.
So, earlier that morning, Halley had looked at her from the couch and said, "You should try a real gym."
Natasha had stared at her.
"What?" Halley had said. "People do it all the time."
"I'm not people," she had rolled her eyes.
"No, but you are driving yourself insane."
That had been difficult to argue with.
Before Natasha left, Halley had given her a small iPod and a pair of earphones with the wire wrapped neatly around it. "That's for the noise," she said. "It gets annoying in there."
Natasha looked down at it. "What's on it?"
"Music."
"That narrows it down," she raised a brow.
"A playlist."
"What kind of playlist?"
Halley smiled a little. "Gosh, you'll see. Stop interrogating me."
Now, standing in the cold, Natasha looked at the iPod in her hand and sighed.
Then she went inside.
The gym was already busy. Too busy, really. There were people at every machine, music playing from the speakers, weights hitting the floor, someone laughing near the front desk, and at least three men making sounds that seemed unnecessary for the amount of weight they were lifting.
Natasha checked in, kept her eyes moving out of habit, then headed for the changing room.
She had worn her workout clothes under her jacket, so it did not take long to change. She put her bag and coat into a locker, changed out of her boots, and stood there for a moment with the earphones in her hand.
The whole thing felt strange.
She was used to training for a reason. A mission, a target, a bruise to work around. This was different. People came here after work, before dinner. They drank water from plastic bottles and checked their phones between sets. No one was trying to survive anything.
Natasha put the earphones in and pressed play.
The first song started, and she did not recognise it. She just imagined Halley lying in bed, picking the song specifically with a little smile.
That helped, annoyingly.
Natasha left the changing room and stepped into the main space.
She started with a treadmill near the end of the row, where she could see most of the room in the mirror. It took her a few seconds to get the belt moving, because there were too many buttons for something that only had to go forward, but soon enough she was running.
At first, she kept it slow.
Then she got bored and pushed the speed up.
The room around her became easier to ignore. The music helped a lot with concentration. Her feet hit the belt, her breath evened out, and for a while, she did not think about Brandon or the fact that Halley was still trying to act normal while boxes took over half the apartment.
She only ran.
After twenty minutes, she stopped and wiped the machine down, because Halley had made a very serious point about gym etiquette before Natasha left.
"People are very strict about it," Halley had said.
"About sweat?"
"Yes."
"That's unfortunate," the redhead had teased.
"Just wipe the machine, Nat. It's gross not to."
So Natasha wiped the machine.
After that, she tried the rowing machine. That one made more sense. She had to pull, release, breathe, and repeat. Her shoulders warmed up, and her back loosened in a way that felt good enough to make her stay there longer than planned.
The song changed in her ears.
This one she knew.
Halley had played it once in the kitchen while cutting vegetables, singing half the words wrong and pretending not to notice Natasha watching her from the table. Natasha remembered the knife in Halley's hand, Toast sitting hopefully by her feet, the smell of onions, the little pleased smile Halley got when she thought a song was getting to the good part.
She tried a few machines after that. Some were fine. Some were stupid. One made absolutely no sense, and after adjusting the seat twice, Natasha sat on it, pulled the handles once, and immediately got back up.
By the time she moved toward the free weights, she was sweating properly, and her muscles were warm. Her mind was a little less crowded than it had been when she walked in. Obviously, it wasn't empty. Natasha dreamed of the day it would be, the day she could blissfully walk the Earth without a care in the world. But it was quieter.
She picked up a pair of dumbbells, tested the weight, then chose heavier ones.
She had only finished a few reps when someone came up beside her.
At first, Natasha ignored him. People moved around each other all the time in the room, sometimes too close, sometimes with no awareness of their own elbows. But then the man stopped near her shoulder and said something.
She heard him even over the music.
"You should keep your back straighter."
Natasha lowered the dumbbells slowly. The man did not seem to notice. He wasn't looking at her face, only at the line of her shoulders in the mirror. He looked extremely confident, with his own dumbbells that weighed less than hers.
"You're going to hurt yourself if you keep doing it like that," he added, louder this time.
Natasha pulled one earphone out and turned her head. The man opened his mouth again. "I'm just saying, your–"
He suddenly stopped. For one very quiet second, they looked at each other.
Natasha raised a single eyebrow.
The man's face changed at once, as his brain had finally caught up with the rest of him. His eyes widened, and she saw the recognition replace the smugness in his eyes.
"Oh," he said. "Sorry."
Natasha said nothing.
"Sorry," he repeated, already stepping back. "Didn't recognise you, ma'am."
Then he left.
Natasha watched him go and glared at his back until he disappeared between two machines. Only then did she put the earphone back in and finish the set.
She lasted another ten minutes after that.
Not because of him. He had only been mildly irritating. But the room had started to feel too full again, and the music, while better than she had expected, was not enough to cover everything. The mirrors, the sweat, the weights hitting the floor, the constant movement around her. It had helped, for a while. That was already more than she had thought it would do.
She put the weights back, wiped down the bench because Halley's voice was now apparently part of her conscience, and went to get her things.
Outside, the cold hit her face so violently that she almost welcomed it.
The snow had softened into a small drizzle, barely more than white dust under the streetlights. Natasha zipped her jacket up, tucked the iPod into her pocket, and started walking back toward Brooklyn Heights.
It was not far. That was one of the reasons Halley had suggested this gym, she assumed. It was close enough that Natasha would not have an excuse to avoid it, and far enough that the walk home could finish what the workout had started.
She kept one earphone in. She usually preferred hearing everything around her, such as low voices between buildings or a car passing a bit too close to her. But the streets were quiet, and her free ear was still aware of her surroundings.
By the time she reached the apartment building, her legs were pleasantly tired, and her mind had stopped circling the same dark places for once.
That alone made the gym almost worth it.
Almost.
Natasha let herself into the apartment and shut the door behind her with her shoulder.
Halley was on the couch with her laptop open across her knees, her glasses low on her nose, and Toast pressed against her thigh, watching the screen, too. She looked up as soon as Natasha came in.
"So?" she asked. "How did it go?"
Natasha took her earphones out and stood there for a few seconds. Then, she sighed.
Halley bit her lip. "That bad?"
Natasha tossed her keys into the bowl, shrugged out of her jacket, and crossed the room without answering. Toast lifted his head, his tail wagging wildly as he panted at her.
"No," Natasha gently nudged him aside with her knee. "That's my spot."
Toast huffed like this was deeply unfair, but moved enough for Natasha to sink down onto the couch. A second later, she was lying with her head in Halley's lap, one arm thrown over her own stomach.
"I'm never going back," she said.
Halley laughed softly and closed her laptop. "Okay. Tell me what happened."
Natasha closed her eyes as Halley reached for her hair. She tugged the tie loose with careful fingers, freeing the short red waves from the messy ponytail. Natasha's hair barely reached past her shoulders now, a little longer than it had been a few months ago.
Halley combed her fingers through it slowly. "You survived, though."
"Barely."
"Oh, God."
"It was too hot," Natasha said. "And loud. And everyone was sweating near everyone else."
"That is usually how gyms work."
"It's a terrible system."
Halley smiled, moving her fingertips over Natasha's scalp. "Anything else?"
"The Tower has air conditioning."
"Yes."
"The gym did not understand air conditioning."
Halley laughed again, and Natasha, despite herself, sank a little deeper into her lap.
"It smelled strange," Natasha went on. "Like strange burnt rubber and sweat, again."
"That's poetic," Halley hummed.
"It was unpleasant."
"But you worked out?"
"I ran and used the rowing machine. Some of the machines were useful, I'll give it to you. But others were so complicated, why would you create such dumb machines?"
Halley's fingers paused for half a second, then resumed. "You didn't ask anyone how to use them?"
Natasha opened one eye.
Halley pressed her lips together. "Right. Sorry. Forgot who I was speaking to."
Natasha closed her eyes again. "Most people left me alone, actually. That was the only good part."
"Really?"
"Mhm. In the street, people look at me. They sometimes stop me for pictures or questions, you know? But in there, everyone was too busy looking at themselves."
"That tracks."
"It was almost nice."
Halley's hand slowed a little. "Almost?"
Natasha was quiet for a second. Then, she said, "A man tried to correct my form, though."
Halley went still. Natasha opened her eyes again. The blonde looked down at her, already smiling. "No."
"He came up next to me while I was lifting and told me to keep my back straighter."
Halley's smile widened until she had to bite it back. "Did you throw a dumbbell at him?"
"No."
"Did you think about throwing the dumbbell at him?"
The redhead hummed. "Are you saying I should've done it?"
Halley laughed, and Toast, offended by the joy happening without him, pushed his nose against Natasha's arm. Natasha lifted a hand and rested it on his head without moving from Halley's lap.
"So what did you do?" Halley asked, still smiling as her fingers slipped back into Natasha's hair.
"I turned around," Natasha said. "He recognised me before he could finish the sentence."
Halley made a small, delighted sound, clearly picturing it. "Oh, that poor man. I almost feel bad for him."
"He apologised."
"I imagine he did."
"Twice."
That made Halley laugh again, her thumb moving in a slow circle near Natasha's temple. "Well, I'm proud of you. You went to a public gym, used the machines, survived the smell, and only mildly traumatised one civilian. That's growth."
Natasha groaned. "I didn't traumatise him."
Halley looked down at her. Natasha held her gaze for a second, then amended, "Not much."
"See? Growth."
Natasha hummed, as if accepting the praise only because she was too comfortable to argue. Halley kept playing with her hair, loosening the damp strands from where they had stuck to the back of her neck.
"You're a little sweaty, by the way," she said, not unkindly. "It's cute."
Natasha opened her eyes properly.
Halley smiled before she could say anything. "Don't look at me like that. You are lying in my lap after going to a normal gym once, with your hair all messy, telling me you're never going back. That is a little cute."
Natasha stared at her for a long moment, then looked down at Toast, who had draped half his body over her arm like he had decided she belonged there now.
"I could still leave," she said.
"You could try," Halley said, glancing at Toast. "But I think he's chosen a side."
Toast whined contentedly, agreeing.
Natasha sighed, but she did not move. Halley bent closer and pushed a damp strand of hair away from Natasha's forehead. "It helped a little, didn't it?"
Natasha did not answer right away. Halley didn't push. She only kept her hand in Natasha's hair, like she already knew the answer and was willing to let Natasha arrive there on her own.
Finally, Natasha closed her eyes again.
"A little," she admitted.
Halley's smile softened. "Good."
"I'm still not going back."
"Of course you're not."
Natasha was quiet for a moment, long enough that Halley thought the conversation had ended. Then she said, almost grudgingly, "The playlist was good."
Natasha felt the smile more than saw it.
"Yeah?"
"It was tolerable."
Halley leaned back against the couch, very pleased with herself. "From you, that's basically a love letter."
Natasha smiled faintly. "Don't get used to it."
"Too late," Halley kept combing her fingers through Natasha's hair, loosening the damp strands until they no longer sat neatly against her head. The more she touched it, the worse it got, but Natasha had stopped caring a while ago. She was warm and tired, and the apartment was quiet, as it only ever became quiet when Halley closed her laptop and decided work could wait.
"You know," Halley said after a moment, like the thought had only just come to her, "I'm kind of proud of you."
Natasha opened one eye. "For going to a gym?"
"For trying something normal."
"That's a terrible thing to say to me."
Halley smiled and dragged her nails lightly over Natasha's scalp. "I mean it. It's good. Sometimes doing the normal thing helps more than doing the intense, dramatic, spy thing."
Natasha groaned slightly at the feeling of the woman's nails, but didn't answer. Halley's hand moved from her hair to the side of her face, brushing her thumb near her cheekbone. She looked down at her for a few seconds, amused by something.
"What?" Natasha asked.
Halley hesitated, then shrugged slightly. "I was just thinking about when we used to run together."
Natasha's eyes opened properly at that.
It had been a while since they had done it. Before everything became heavier. Before letters and boxes and moving plans, before Halley learned how to stand with her fists up and look at Natasha like she was trying very hard not to be afraid. Back then, running had been simple. Mornings, cold air, Toast pulling ahead on the leash, Halley complaining after five minutes and pretending she wasn't.
"You hated running," Natasha said.
"I didn't hate it."
Natasha looked up at her.
Halley pursed her lips. "Okay. I hated it a little."
"A little?"
"A respectable amount."
Natasha watched her for another second, then pushed herself up from Halley's lap. Her hair fell around her face in messy, uneven waves, sticking up in places where Halley's fingers had passed through it too many times. She looked slightly offended, which only made Halley smile more.
"What are you saying?" Natasha asked.
Halley leaned back against the couch, tucking one leg beneath herself. "I'm saying I didn't exactly start running because I cared about cardio."
Natasha squinted at her.
Halley looked almost embarrassed now, but not enough to stop. "I wanted to spend time with you. That's all. You ran in the mornings, and I thought, well, I can do that."
"You couldn't."
"No, I could not."
Natasha laughed, and Halley shoved lightly at her shoulder. "Don't laugh at me."
"I could never have guessed," Natasha said dryly, "that you had never run before."
Halley rolled her eyes, but she was smiling too. "I was subtle."
"You were dying."
"I was glowing."
"You were bargaining with God after three blocks."
"That was one time."
"It was every time."
Natasha remembered it too clearly now that Halley had said it. Halley, beside her in the early morning, cheeks pink from the cold, breath coming too fast as she insisted she was perfectly fine. Halley slowing down when she thought Natasha wasn't looking. Halley pretending to stretch because Toast needed a break, when Toast was the only one still full of energy. The way she had hummed sometimes, badly and under her breath, as if that might hide the fact that she could barely breathe.
And Natasha, of course, had known.
Not everything. Not the reason, apparently. But she had known Halley was pushing herself. She had shortened the routes without saying so. Slowed down near intersections. Let Toast stop more often. Pretended not to notice when Halley used the dog as an excuse to lean forward with her hands on her knees.
Halley was watching her now, like she could see the memory moving across her face.
"I wasn't that bad," she muttered.
Natasha just raised an eyebrow.
Halley sighed. "Fine. I was pretty bad."
Natasha shook her head, still smiling despite herself. There was something very sweet in it, now that she thought about it. Halley, who had never run for anything in her life unless she was late, woke up early and put on sneakers just because Natasha had asked if she wanted to come once.
Or maybe Natasha hadn't even asked. Maybe Halley had simply shown up. She couldn't even remember anymore, which was a first, because Natasha Romanoff remembered everything.
"You did all that to flirt with me?" Natasha asked.
Halley cocked her head and looked out of the window. "A little."
"A little," Natasha repeated.
"Fine. A lot." Halley's smile turned softer. "I wanted to be near you. And you were always more relaxed after a run, so I thought maybe that was when I'd get the good version of you."
Natasha gasped. "The good version?"
"The less terrifying one."
"I see."
"The one who didn't look like she was about to disappear every time I got close enough."
That quieted Natasha more than she expected. Halley seemed to realise it, because she reached for her hand, folding her fingers around Natasha's before the moment could become too heavy.
"And it worked," she said lightly. "Kind of. You looked at me sometimes."
"I looked at you all the time."
Halley blinked.
Natasha glanced down at their joined hands, then back at her. "You were just too busy trying not to pass out to notice."
Halley stared at her for a second before she laughed, tipping her head back against the couch.
Natasha smiled and let herself lean into the sound.
Halley was still smiling to herself until her eyes drifted down to their joined hands, and she began to snicker softly.
"What?" Natasha asked desperately.
Halley bit her lip to try to keep amusement out of her voice. "I'm just thinking about how deeply intimidating you were when I first met you."
Natasha raised an eyebrow.
"You were," Halley said. "All mysterious while ordering coffee under fake names."
Natasha closed her eyes and leaned over the back of the couch. "That again?"
"Yes, that again." Halley sat up a little, delighted now. "You let me call you Olivia."
"I didn't let you."
"You did. I saw the cup. It said Olivia. I said Olivia. You answered."
"I was being polite."
"As if," Halley huffed. "You were scared I was sent to spy on you."
Natasha sighed and pushed herself up from the couch. "What was I supposed to do?" she asked. "Walk into a coffee shop and tell them my name was Natasha Romanoff? 'Hi, I'm the Black Widow, yes, everyone who's looking for me can find me here, black coffee, please."
Halley paused before looking up at the ceiling, considering it. "Hm."
Natasha stared at her.
Halley nodded once. "Okay. Fine. That's actually not that stupid."
"Thank you."
"It's still funny."
"It's not."
"It's a little funny."
Natasha narrowed her eyes, but there was no real threat in it. Halley leaned back into the couch, very pleased with herself. "I can't believe I flirted with Olivia for an entire morning."
"Look where that got you," Natasha opened her arms, gesturing around the apartment. Halley smirked and nodded, as if agreeing. The redhead smiled back before stretching one arm above her head. The movement pulled at the hem of her tank top, and Halley's eyes dropped before she could stop them.
Natasha noticed.
She always noticed. And she loved the attention.
"I'm taking a shower," she said.
Halley hummed, still smiling faintly as she reached for the laptop she had abandoned beside her, even though she clearly had no intention of working anymore.
Natasha walked toward the bathroom, then stopped at the threshold.
Halley looked up.
Natasha turned back, one hand against the doorframe, her expression calm except for the smirk already pulling at her mouth.
"Am I going alone, or...?"
For about five full seconds, Halley only stared at her.
Then the laptop was pushed onto the coffee table with no grace at all.
"Nope," Halley said, already getting up. "No. You do not have to tell me twice."
Natasha laughed under her breath and stepped into the bathroom as Halley hurried after her, nearly tripping over the edge of the rug.
"I get the hot water first," Halley announced.
Natasha leaned back just enough for Halley to slip past her.
"Come on, Olivia," the blonde laughed as she looked back mischievously.
Natasha narrowed her eyes.
Halley ran.
She barely made it two steps into the bathroom before Natasha went after her, the door closing on the sound of Halley's laughter.
The apartment went quiet behind them.
Toast lifted his head from the couch and stared at the closed bathroom door. For a moment, he waited hopefully, as if one of them might remember that he existed.
No one did.
Water started running.
Halley laughed breathlessly again on the other side of the door, followed by Natasha saying something too low for the apartment to catch. Whatever Halley answered was lost almost at once, swallowed by the shower and the soft thud of her back meeting the tile.
Then there was only the water.
And Halley's uneven breaths.
Natasha's voice came again, quieter than before, close enough that Halley must have felt it against her skin. Halley said her name once, and Toast lifted his head from the couch as if something important had happened.
Nothing followed for a moment except the rush of the shower.
Then Halley laughed again, and one of her hands hit the soaked tile. It stayed there.
Toast stared at the bathroom door.
From inside came the faint sound of Natasha moving lower, water spilling around them, Halley's breath catching hard enough that even the walls seemed to hold it for a second.
Then the apartment around them calmed down again.
Toast sighed dramatically and dropped his head back onto the cushion.
Outside, snow kept falling against the window. Inside, the apartment stayed warm.