FIC: The Last Best Hope (Avengers), Chapters 6 - 9

[alexs_storybook]

Title: The Last Best Hope
Author: alexcat
Fandom: MCU
Type: FPH
Rating: C-17
Disclaimer: I do not own nor do I profit from the use of these characters.
Warnings: None
Character(s): Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov, Natasha/Tony Stark(one night), Sam Wilson
Archive: Ao3, Alex's Story Book, OEaM
Summary: Steve and Natasha fall in love just before the world breaks.
Art by greygerbil.

~~~


VI.
The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting.
~ Sun Tzu

~~

They met Sam about eight o’clock at their appointed rendezvous point. They were all dressed in black gear. They’d studied their blueprints and maps and had a plan. Sam had come with goodies. The plan without Wanda usually involved some fighting but this time, they had a gas that would render both sides unconscious without harming them. They’d have to wear gas masks themselves. They had side arms as backup, but shooting was messy as it could leave evidence.

The only way it would work was to get close enough to toss the gas without being caught or noticed.

Or to have a diversion.

Diversions were dangerous because things could go very wrong, if the targets did not react as planned and one could never tell about an opponent.

A beautiful half-naked woman was usually a pretty sound diversion. Natasha would do that job, if they needed her.

Off they went and they went silent. They could communicate in a rudimentary way by keying their mics.

The arms dealer was there with his goons, only two of them though. Moments later five burly, bearded Americans showed up in a black rental van. The goons patted them down when they got out of their car and nodded to Braun.

He opened the back of a panel truck and slid out several metal containers, the type weaponry was sometimes stored in. The Americans looked in the box and asked questions. Braun’s answers didn’t seem to satisfy one of them as he began to argue. The thugs moved closer to the truck, weapons at the ready. Their weapons were some sort of assault rifle, Ak-47s, Natasha thought.

If the Americans weren’t armed, then they only had Braun and his men to worry about. Steve was pretty sure he could beat up an overweight neo-Nazi from the heartland. So could Sam and Natasha.

He signaled Sam and Natasha to throw their canisters at the same time. They did but Braun’s men were fast. As soon as they heard the sound, they began spraying gunfire outward. The trio of heroes was not in any danger, ducking down behind concrete and steel walls but the gunfire made it impossible to enter the room without being in the line of fire.

If they could keep them here long enough, the gas would do its job and they could call in the police to mop up. Braun was in the van in seconds and was barreling out of the building. There was not much they could do, or not much they should have done. While Sam and Natasha took care of the other seven, Steve jumped on the van and beat the window in with his weapon. Braun had not slowed even though he couldn’t see out around Steve, so Steve grabbed him and yanked him from the seat through the broken window. They rolled off of the van as it plowed into a wall and stopped.

Braun hit the ground running but Steve’s superior strength stopped him dead in his tracks. Steve put some zip ties around his hands in the back and led him back to where the rest were all trussed up as well. They had gone down from the gas and were fairly easily restrained.

They heard sirens in the distance and made themselves scarce, leaving the criminals to others to clean up. They had not taken off their gas masks so neither the American nor the Germans could identify them.

They rendezvoused with Sam at a noisy bar a few hours later. Sam was waiting for them, already into his second or third beer. He held his glass up when they arrived.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you two are living together.”

Neither said anything, just exchanged a look.

“Oh God! Really? No shit?” His grin was big and cheesy.

“No, Sam. Not really,” Natasha told him as she ordered a beer for herself and for Steve. “We just have sleepovers sometimes.” She held up her hand. “Innocent, platonic sleepovers.”

Steve didn’t say a thing, but he wasn’t feeling very platonic toward Natasha anymore. He didn’t think she was him, either. But he would wait, for now, to see how things played out. He certainly didn’t want to risk their friendship if she wasn’t truly interested, nor did he want to scare her off before he knew one way or the other.

“So anything new on the horizon?” Steve asked Sam.

“No, but word has it Stark has been looking for Natasha.”

“Me?” Her heart pounded a little, not so much in fear, but she certainly remembered their night in Hong Kong.

“I think he just wants to know that you’re okay.”

“Well, tell whoever told you that that Natasha says she’s fine.”

Sam nodded.

“You got a place to stay tonight? You can stay with me. I can stack you in corner somewhere,” Steve said.

“I have a ride back in an hour, but thanks,” Sam said to Steve. They all drank a few more rounds then Sam was gone.

“You looked really strange when he mentioned Stark,” Steve said to Natasha as they walked home.

“I was a little surprised. That’s all.”

“Didn’t you say you’d seen him in Hong Kong just before you came here? Wouldn’t he know you’re okay?”

She knew her face colored but she was also sure Steve couldn’t see it in the streetlights.

“Natasha?” He stopped her, worried that something was really wrong.

“I sort of spent the night with him when I was in Hong Kong,” she said very quickly.

“Sort of?”

She stopped, annoyed with Tony, with Steve and with herself. How had this become so complicated? “We fucked! Do you need to know more than that?”

It was Steve’s turn to blush. “I didn’t - I was afraid he’d done something to harm you. That’s what I meant.”

“Tony wouldn’t hurt me. Not like that, anyway.”

“No, he wouldn’t.”

“Do we have to talk about it?” She was clearly irritated.

“No.” He was, too.

“You going to get jealous and pout?” She stopped in the street with her hands on her hips.

“No?” He would have said that no matter what. He was pretty sure she’d smack him if he said otherwise.

“Good boy. Now let’s go home.”

“Maybe I’d better -”

“I’ll hit you! You are staying with me tonight. Period.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And that was the end of the discussion about Stark.

*

VII.
There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness. ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

~~

He realized later that he already thought of her as something more than just his friend, Natasha. He’d been thinking that way for quite a while and by now, he suspected she felt the same way. She became a little distant after he found out about Stark, as if she expected him to be angry somehow. He was a little jealous but she didn’t belong to him.

He wanted her. Badly. But he wanted her to decide. He had to know she chose him.

Several days after the mission, they were watching German television. “There’s a party I want to crash. Black tie. Will you come with me?” she asked, out of the blue.

“I literally have no clothes to wear.”

“My Norwegian boyfriend will fix that. We’ll go to a men’s shop tomorrow.”

They did and she bought him a nice, subdued suit that looked wonderful on him. They also got shoes, socks, the whole shooting match. She gave no hint at what she would wear. It was the dress she’d worn in Hong Kong. She certainly wasn’t going to tell him how Stark had peeled it off of her.

She really hoped Steve would peel it off, too.

She also didn’t tell him where exactly they were going.

That evening, Natasha jumped in the shower after him and when he came out of the bathroom, he saw her dress laid out on the bed. It was black and cut very low in both the front and the back. It had a slit up one side that would go a long way up her shapely thigh. Her shoes were black, very high heels and little but a sole and some straps here and there. The only underwear he saw was a tiny black thong.

He knew he was in trouble. Seeing her in that dress might just be his undoing. He couldn’t wait!

An hour later, they were ready for their cab. Her silver hair and the black dress were perfect. Steve was now completely sure that dress was going to be his undoing.

The low neck and low back showed her soft curves and hinted at much, much more. The slit revealed enough of her long leg to entice him to want to see more of her, too. And her smile, had she always been so beautiful? He had no appetite for food at all. He wanted to keep her here, to see the dress in a puddle of fabric on the floor as he –

He realized he was staring.

“You like?” She twirled.

He cleared his throat, unsure of what would come out if he spoke. He finally nodded.

“Cat got your tongue?” She was enjoying his discomfort.

The desk rang that their taxi had arrived.

Natasha straightened his tie and smoothed down his hair a bit. They hurried downstairs and arrived at the US Embassy minutes later.

“The US Embassy? Are you nuts?” She had balls. He’d give her that.

“We’ll be fine. Just follow my lead. And don’t say anything unless you have to.”

She said something to the doorman, handed him a piece of paper, and spoke to the security personnel at the door; they passed through the metal detector and there they were.

Steve saw some faces he’d seen before and many he didn’t. No one seemed to know him, luckily. Natasha acted as if she belonged so he followed her lead. They ate canapes and drank champagne, they danced to music that reminded Steve of his own time. She talked to people in languages he didn’t know and several old men kissed her hand and leered at her. After about an hour, she called a cab to take them somewhere else.

She took him to a small, smoky club that featured music from the 40s. The table and booths were intimate and fairly isolated as they sat around a central dance floor. They ordered champagne again. This was not something Steve had done before either, but Natasha seemed completely at home here, too.

When a slow song came on, she asked him to dance and they moved out to the dance floor. She melted into his arms. He was not much of a dancer but he could do this. Holding this exquisite woman in his arms was no hardship at all. He knew that he wasn’t drunk but he felt intoxicated with her.

As they danced, Natasha leaned close and kissed him. It took a moment for him to react and kiss her back. But he did.



“Steve, we need to get out of here,” she whispered. “Now.”

“Yes,” was his only answer.

They finished the dance, made their way outside and hailed one of the taxis outside the club, waiting to take partiers back home. She gave the cabbie the address and she turned to Steve breathlessly. “Now, kiss me.”

He did, kissing her deeply and hungrily. This had been building for days, this tension between them. She had become more than his friend, much more.

The cab stopped and she paid the cabbie and grabbed his arm. “Hurry.”

They made it to the elevator in record time. Thankfully, it was empty. Natasha pushed Steve against the wall and pressed herself against him, kissing him again and again. She unzipped his trousers and slid her hand inside. She rubbed him through the thin cotton of the boxers he wore. She purred when he groaned aloud.

When the doors opened, they almost ran to her room. She was quick with the key and suddenly, they were completely alone. She began with the tie and ripped at him until he wore only his boxers and a rather impressive erection.

When she sank to her knees, still fully clothed, Steve said, “You know I’ll come as soon as you touch me, don’t you?”

She shrugged and yanked the boxers down.

He watched her as she licked her lip then grinned up at him. Without touching him with her hands, she leaned close and kissed away the tiny drop of fluid about to drip from his penis before running her tongue over it.

“Fuck!” He ground out.

She slid her mouth slowly down the shaft until it was pressing the back of her throat. He watched, transfixed. He was afraid to move. It had been a long, long time since …

She closed her lips around him and slid her tongue along the bottom side, up and down the shaft.

He was sure his knees wouldn’t hold him up much longer when she actually began to suck. No one had done this to him since sometime in the 1940s when he’d toured with the USO as Captain America. He tried to think of something to slow himself down but Natasha was not the least bit interested in slowing anything down. She put her hand around him and began to stroke him as she sucked.

“Natasha.”

She paused, not stopping her hand’s movements and said, “Shall I stop now?” Her smile was pure evil.

“God, no. Don’t ever - shit!” he said when she returned to what she’d been doing.

The torture didn’t last much longer; neither did Steve. Natasha didn’t stop until he was completely spent and began to slide down the wall he’d been backed up against.

She sat back on her haunches and grinned at him.

“You’ve killed me,” he finally said.

She busied herself with getting naked. Slowly, revealing a little at a time. She never took her eyes off of Steve as she did it. Finally, all she wore was the tiny black thong he’d seen on the bed while she showered.

“You don’t look dead to me. A little used maybe, but that’ll pass.” She got on her hands and knees and crawled over to the bed, looking quite like a hungry tiger as she looked over her shoulder she asked, “What are you waiting for?”

She was on the bed by the time he was. She wiggled out of the thong and flung it at him with a smile. She moved her knees apart and put her hands on her thighs in invitation. “Your turn, Rogers.” Her voice went all soft and warm when she called him Rogers.

He moved onto the bed between her open legs and looked down at her. She was smooth and soft, but there were scars, several scars. He knew that the woman who lay in front of him was a hardened warrior and a fierce opponent, but right now, she was Natasha, his best friend and the warmest, sexiest woman he’d ever seen.

Perhaps she deserved a little torture, too, he thought wickedly.

He began with the scar on her belly, where the Winter Soldier had shot her. He teased it with the tip of his tongue, tracing it and kissing it. She grabbed at him but he held both her wrists in one hand.

“You know I can get loose?”

“Do you want to?” He asked her as he licked at a small scar on the underside of her left breast.

“Not right now, no.” He kissed the little scar then moved to kiss her peaked nipple.

”You’re so beautiful, Natasha.” He spent several moments driving her crazy with his teeth and tongue then he found another small scar.

It was on her thigh. He kissed it as he held her legs open. He scooted down so he was between her legs. She raised her head and looked down at him. “What are you waiting for?”

He didn’t wait any longer, opening her with his fingers and tasting her, flicking his tongue over her. He wondered if she could feel his smile. Natasha wiggled and moaned as he teased her. She lifted her hips off the bed, finally wrapping her legs around his head. “I could break your neck, you know,” she told him as she gave an extra squeeze.

“But then I couldn’t do this.”

He made enough room to slip his hand up from beneath and slide his fingers inside her. She grabbed his hair and rode him hard. If he’d been weaker or smaller, she would have broken his neck. As it was, she cursed him in languages he didn’t understand and professed undying love in Russian before her orgasm swept her up and when she was done, she loosened her legs and looked down at her disheveled lover.

“Did I hurt you?”

“Not yet.”

“Are you recovered yet?” She arched an eyebrow at him.

“Already? You’re insatiable.” He actually was ready, the serum probably getting much of the credit for his rapid recovery time.

“You might be right. Let’s find out.”

He rolled over and reached for her. “You’re up this time.”

She straddled him and grinned. “Lazy ass.”

She wiggled around on top of him until he was pressed against her. He lifted his hips as she moved and he was suddenly sheathed completely inside her. “Ohhhh,” was all he managed.

“Sweet Steve,” she whispered as she moved slowly, languidly, riding him at a leisurely pace. She watched him, saw his beauty, how he’d aged since he was returned from the ice, the lines of care on his dear face.

He put his hands on her waist, moved her faster. She let him set the pace, let him guide her with his hands. He arched up beneath her, meeting her. He scooted up to sit against the headboard with her still atop him. Steve put his arms around Natasha and pulled her close, kissing her as they seemed to melt into one another. Their singular pleasures had been intense but this, this was more. They looked into one another’s eyes, quiet except for their breathing and the mattress moving. His breath caught in his throat as Natasha sighed. It felt as if, instead of taking pleasure, they were creating a synergy that swept them both away, suddenly, completely.

When it was done, neither of them spoke for a very long time, nor did they move. She lay against his chest, their bodies still entwined, still looking up into his eyes.

“What just happened, Natasha?” Steve whispered in the near dark room.

“I don’t know. It – I - just hold me.”

He did.

*

VIII.
We are living on the brink of the apocalypse, but the world is asleep.~
Joel C. Rosenberg

~~

Natasha and Steve stayed together. They fought alongside Sam to keep up with an underworld still scrambling to get their hands on alien technology. Very little got by the three of them, sometimes joined by Wanda and Vision.

Most of the time, the two of them got along and when they didn’t, their fights usually ended in a sweaty tangle of sheets.

Steve was older and bitterness over the way the world was had creeped in along the edges but he still believed in right and wrong. In bed, in the safety of darkness, he and Natasha shared the darkness in their lives with one another.

Steve had lost his mother as a boy and Bucky’s family had taken him in. He’d been abused because he was so small and weak. Bucky had watched out for him, taken care of him, beat the shit out of a lot of bullies.

The fight with Stark had wounded him deeper than he had known. He mourned the loss of Stark as a friend, much more than he’d thought he would. He mourned the knowledge that Bucky had killed the Starks and he had no problem understanding where Stark stood.

Natasha talked of the Red Room and her sterilization. She finally cried, the only time he remembered her crying. He held her all night, wishing that he could fix what had been done to her.

One day, they were actually in Paris with Sam. They’d just finished a job and the French authorities had arrested a band of homegrown terrorists.

The phone that he always kept in his pocket buzzed. He was startled,

“Tony? Bruce. What is wrong?”

He listened a few minutes then put the phone away.

“Thanos, the one who sent Loki to New York, has attacked. Tony is gone on a spaceship somewhere.”

“Bruce – Bruce is alive?” Natasha was incredulous.

“It would seem so.” He looked stricken. She put a hand on his arm to reassure him. She wasn’t going anywhere. She and Steve were the opposite sides of the same coin, their light and darkness filling one another’s voids. Bruce had made his choice long ago as well.

“We have to go find Wanda and Vision then get to New York. We’ve got a job.”

And so it began and it didn’t let up. They all went to Wakanda, to try to make things right finally, to rid the world of evil yet again.

They had no reason to think it wouldn’t happen.

They stood there over Vision’s body, Steve, Natasha, Bruce, Rhodey, Thor and the little alien raccoon, and it dawned on Steve that they had lost and in so doing, half of the population of the galaxy was gone. Bucky. Sam. T’Challa.

“Oh God…”

They stayed in Wakanda to help bury the dead, to try to make sense of it all. Steve hadn’t spoken a word for three days. He stared at walls, doors, anything that would excuse him from the things going on around him. He simply had disconnected as best he could.

Natasha was having none of it and in bed on the third night, she told him so. “Look, we all hurt. You do not have the market cornered on pain.”

“It was my fault.”

“How? Are you stupid? It was not our fault. Evil won. We have to fight until we win, until we beat it back.”

“I’m not sure I can anymore.”

“You can. We need you. I need you. If we can’t win, then, by god, we will die trying, not whimpering in some damned corner like a baby.”

“All right. I can’t say no to you. Did you practice that part?” He finally smiled at her, a sad smile but still a smile.

“As a matter of fact, I did. Now I want one more thing.”

“What?” He asked her as she slid her hand under the blanket to touch him.

“I’ve seen enough hate for now. Love me, Steve.”

He did, and it dulled his pain enough for him to go on.

And on they went. They began to work on plans for what to do from here out.

Shuri was a genius and she was also a new queen. She cared deeply for her people, for all people and made her nation’s great technology available to help what was left of the world to get back on its feet again.

She sent out medicines and equipment all over, weapons to countries who she was sure would not use them on one another, technology to universities and governments who she trusted to use them well.

Steve saw a strength in her, in Natasha, in many of the Wakandan warriors that gave rise to hope.

*

IX.
It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop.
~ Confucius

~~

They did not give up nor did they give in. No one had any illusions that they could fix anything. No one was certain if there was a fix.

They all sat around talking, working on ideas, plans, hopes, fears.

They were sore of heart and mind still, too close to their grief to understand the real depth of their losses. All of them but Steve. He knew. He had lost so many over the years. His heart ached for them all. But his heart ached even more for those who were left behind.

Shuri took the lead. She was so young and full of fire that they all were happy to look to her for guidance. She addressed the room full of warriors and scientists alike.

“We have no answers. We have only what is left. We must build on that. We have to look to our weaponry to protect us, to our science to find solutions if there are any and to our faith in whoever or whatever we believe in and in one another to sustain us. We must also hold onto one another with all of our might.

“We are the standard bearers of our world, our nations and our people and we must move forward.”

Several days after the battle, Wakanda picked up a ship approaching from outside the solar system. Planetary defenses, such as they are, were alerted as they continued to track the ship.

Steve was eating with Thor and Rocket when someone came for him.

“Come to the communications center, sir.” The young man waited.

“Now?”

“Yes, sir. We have an incoming message.”

He grabbed his drink and followed.

Rhodey and Natasha were on headphones and Natasha handed him hers. He held the headset up to his ear. He recognized the voice immediately.

“Do not shoot at us. This is Tony Stark. Do not shoot us!”

“Can we communicate back?” He asked Natasha.

“Not yet. They need to be closer.”

Tony was alive! He realized his heart was pounding in excitement and relief. Despite everything, he cared deeply for Stark.

It would take about twelve hours for the ship to arrive, according to calculations. Everyone was on pins and needles, not knowing, other than Tony, what or who was on that ship.

Steve and Natasha went for a walk in the city. “I’m glad he’s alive,” he said.

“I think Shuri will chew him up, but she’ll like him, too.”

Steve laughed. “Stark will not like being bested by a teenager.”

“Tony doesn’t like being bested by anyone.”

“Like me?”

“Oh, you were always an affront to his manhood, Steve. So handsome, so strong, so innocent and so good.”

“Not sure I’m any of them now.”

“Shut up. You’re still all of them. Maybe not quite so innocent anymore.” She grinned as she said it and kissed his cheek sweetly.

“That might be your fault.”

“You saying I’m a bad influence?”

He pulled her to his side. “You’ve taught me things I didn’t even know people could do. I even like most of them.” Sometimes Natasha liked to experiment. Steve was always game.

Tony’s ship finally arrived, escorted by a couple of Quinjets and four Wakandan interceptors. The fighters hovered while the small alien vessel landed. Tony came off first. When the troops on the ground saw Nebula behind him, they all raised their weapons.

“Don’t fire. This is Nebula,” Tony said as he held up his hand to them all. “She’s Thanos’ adopted daughter and she has daddy issues.”

Rocket called out from behind Thor. “Does she ever.”

Nebula stared, her face fierce and angry as it almost always was.

“Stand down,” Steve commanded, followed by M’baku telling his people to stand down as well.

Tony faltered at the bottom of the ramp and Steve rushed forward to catch him. Tony was pale and his eyes were unfocused. He whispered a line from Shakespeare. “No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door; but 'tis enough, 'twill serve.”

Steve lifted him into his arms and headed for Shuri’s medical wing. “Not today, you bastard,” Steve whispered back. “No one dies today.”

Steve stayed with him while Shuri used her amazing technology to fix his wound. It had a slow bleed and would have killed him eventually. He had gripped Steve’s hand while she worked. Though the process was fast and left no scars, it was not painless, especially if the patient refused anesthesia.

Tony was tougher than Steve would have thought, enduring without a word or complaint. He squeezed Steve’s hand so hard that a normal man would have had several broken bones. When it was over, he slept for several hours. Steve left him and reported to the others.

One of Shuri’s assistants came out. “He’s asking for you, Captain Rogers.”

Steve sat down by the bed. Shuri insisted that Tony rest for the rest of the day.

“Good to see you alive, Stark.”

Tony took Steve’s hand and in a very quiet and dispassionate voice told him what happened on Titan, about all the others. When he got to the part about Peter Parker, his voice stayed cool and even, but Steve saw a tear slip out the corner of Stark’s eye.

Steve kept Stark’s hand and told him what befell Earth. Sam, Wanda, Vision, Bucky. He sobbed the last name, though he tried to hold it back.

“What are we gonna do, Cap?”

Steve leaned close and touched his forehead to Tony’s. “We catch our breath and then we fight back until we are gone or Thanos is. Rest now, my friend. There is a lot to do and we need you with us.”

He sat and watched Stark sleep.

Natasha found them both asleep when she came to check on them. She smiled, pulled up Tony’s blanket and found another one and spread it over Steve, as he slept in the chair by the bed. She tiptoed out, careful not to wake them. They were the last, best hope of Earth.