Eight Months Later

Natasha thought weddings like this only happened in the movies. Certainly she'd never thought she'd have a wedding at all, let alone one like this, full of people laughing and talking, and the occasional discreet dabbing of eyes.

Maybe this was another reason the universe had given her Brock as a soulmate, so that his family - both sides; even some of his father's family had flown in - could give her a wedding she'd never known she wanted until she had it.

For the moment, Natasha had found a relatively quiet corner to catch her breath. She'd been to dozens of events like these during her career, but never before been the focus of one, and that was … disconcerting. She needed a moment to herself, to pull the mask of the Black Widow back into place. Brock might know the woman beneath the mask, but that didn't mean she was ready to reveal her for all to see.

"You okay, Natalia?"

Okay, there were others who knew the woman beneath the mask. One of those, Bucky Barnes, had come up to her, a drink in either hand.

"They're -" Natasha nodded in the general direction of the party "- a little overwhelming. In a good way, but still."

"But still," Bucky agreed, holding one of the drinks out to her.

She took it, sipped, smiled as the burn of good Russian vodka trailed down her throat. "I didn't know they had vodka."

Bucky snorted. "They don't. The bar's full of Italian stuff - Campari, prosecco, and limoncello, whatever the hell that is. I brought the vodka. Figured you'd need it."

"Keep that up, you might become my favorite super-soldier." Natasha knocked back the rest of the vodka and Bucky silently offered her the second drink he'd brought.

"There's more if you want it."

"I should be good now." Natasha took another sip, and for a moment they stood in companionable silence.

"It was good that you two walked up the aisle together," Bucky said finally.

"What, no pining for tradition?" Natasha smiled. She'd caught Steve's slightly disapproving expression as she walked up the aisle on Brock's arm. Clearly, he still thought someone should be giving the bride away.

"Some traditions are good," Bucky said, "but this is a choice you made, and he made. Who has the right to 'give you away' in that sense? Barton? Rogers? Good for you two, making your own choices."

"You and Pepper going to do the same?" Natasha asked.

"We might, if I can ever convince her to marry me."

"You're bonded. Why wouldn't she?"

"Something about a media circus, too many cameras invading a private event."

Natasha laughed. "Like you don't know a dozen ways to handle it discreetly."

"I don't. Seriously - when would I have learned to plan a wedding, let alone a discreet one?"

"Surely they had justices of the peace back in the thirties?"

"You have no romance in your soul."

"Which one of us is having a big, loud Italian wedding?"

"Speaking of," Bucky angled his head to his left, her right. "Incoming, three o'clock."

Natasha glanced to her right and her mouth went dry. There was Nana, and Gianna, and a half-dozen of Brock's other female relatives, approaching in a - pack? bevy? Natasha had no idea what the correct term for a group of women was, but this was one, whatever the term might be.

"Save me," she murmured.

Bucky turned and set his glass on a nearby table.

Natasha was just turning to set her own glass aside when the gaggle arrived.

"Natasha," Gianna said, "Nana wanted to ask you -"

Natasha flicked a glance to Bucky, who offered his hand to her.

"Natalia promised me a dance, ladies. After that, she's all yours," he said with a grin that went beyond charming.

Nana strode forward, body-checking Bucky with force that Natasha could see. Bucky took a step away rather than unintentionally hurt the woman if she slammed into his metal arm.

"Bambinos!" Nana said.

Natasha threw Bucky a panicked glance. Charming he might normally be, but right now, he just looked like he was struggling to hold in laughter.

"I'll get you, Barnes, so help me," she said in Russian, watching him step back, allowing the rest of the herd to crowd her.

There really was only one thing to do in this situation. She slammed back the rest of her vodka and summoned a smile.

#

I don't know what I did to deserve this, God, but thank you.

Brock offered the words simply, silently, from one side of the pavilion set up in Alley Pond Park. The only thing Natasha had asked for in a wedding was an outdoor venue, and Brock had arranged the rest. Well, he and Pepper Potts had, and where that woman found time to help him plan a wedding in the middle of all of her other duties he had no idea.

Now, surveying his guests - from Clint Barton dancing with his soulmate/wife, to Tony Stark being charming rather than obnoxious, to his uncle Joey making sure every last item on the buffet was just right - Brock could only be grateful for the day and the people that had chosen to share it with him and Natasha.

"Shouldn't you be with your wife?"

Brock glanced over to where Natasha had retreated and was talking with Barnes. Appropriate, then, that Rogers was talking to him. Symmetric, even.

"We have the rest of our lives together, Cap," Brock answered. "I can share her today."

"Yeah, well, in our line of work, that rest can be awfully short."

"Aren't you a ray of sunshine?" And almost more than Brock gave thanks for Natasha, he gave thanks that he and Rogers had found some stable ground. They'd never agree - Rogers always saw the best in people, and Brock rarely could - but they'd become comrades, if not actually friends. It was enough.

"Sorry. Just - cherish her, okay? She's special, we all know it."

"I do. Every day." And every minute of every hour of every day, but he wasn't going to get that sappy out loud.

"Hey, Rumlow." Brock looked up at Barnes' approach. There was someone else he'd never expected to get comfortable with. "Your granny ever compete in roller derby?"

Brock felt his eyebrows crashing together. "Not that I know of. Why?"

"Woman's got a mean body check." Barnes sounded both amused and impressed.

"How do you know that?"

"She shoved me out of the way to get to Natalia. Said something about bambinos," Barnes added. "You might want to step in."

Brock winced. Natasha had told him, very early on, that she couldn't have children thanks to the Red Room. It hadn't mattered to him then, and it certainly didn't matter now, but he'd forgotten how much his grandmother loved babies.

"Thanks," he said, and started across the park to the food pavilion where he could see a cluster of his female relatives in one corner. Behind them, he'd bet, Natasha endured their well-meaning but ill-informed admonitions and encouragements.

As he drew closer, he saw the glint of Natasha's coppery hair and breathed a sigh of relief. At least she hadn't disabled any of his family or, worse, slipped away in the middle of their onslaught, leaving him with a lot of questions that had uncomfortable answers.

"All my favorite ladies in one place," he said when he was within easy speaking distance. "How lucky can a man get?"

His family turned to face him, and through a gap between Nana and Gianna's heads, Brock saw the relief that flashed across Natasha's expression and was gone in less than a heartbeat.

Brock gave her an understanding glance but kept smiling as he hugged his way through his family to his wife. He slid an arm around Natasha, felt the stiffness in her muscles.

"How're you doing?" he asked her. Without waiting for an answer he looked back at his grandmother, aunts and cousins. "Are you overwhelming my bride on her day?"

He kept his tone light, but it was enough of a hint for Gianna and his other cousins. She leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

"Not intentionally," Gianna said, then offered Natasha a smile. "Sorry."

Natasha nodded, gave her a return smile, and then Gianna was shooing the rest of the women away.

Nana lingered, with an intense expression that deepened every one of her laugh lines. She wagged a finger at Brock. "Bambinos."

"Us first, Nana," Brock said easily. "Bambinos later. Maybe."

Nana scowled at him, but followed Gianna and the others. Beneath his arm, he felt Natasha relaxing.

"Sorry," he told Natasha. "I've never been on the receiving end of that swarm. I didn't think that you might be."

"It's all right, really, they're good people," Natasha said.

"Yes, they are," Brock agreed. Then he tugged her closer against his side. "I'd choose you over them any time."

"Brock -"

"I would." Brock turned them so he could face her. "We're soulmates, yes, but more than that, I love you."

He bent for the kiss he hadn't dared give her at the conclusion of the ceremony. That kiss had, by necessity, been brief, more a promise than an actual kiss. This was an actual kiss, deep and slow and loving, and after a moment, he felt her snuggling more closely against his body.

"Just because we can't give Nana bambinos doesn't mean we can't try," he said against her mouth.

"Are you suggesting we abandon our guests?"

"I'm suggesting we have to keep our skills sharp, and getting out of here unnoticed is good practice."

"I'll make it back to our place before you do."

Brock raised his head to meet her gaze. "Is that a challenge?"

"It could be."

Brock smiled and kissed her again, quickly. He liked that kind of challenge. "You're on."

NOTE:

Thank you for following Natasha and Brock's story with me! They were a joy to write.

Steve and Skye's story is up next, and where Natasha and Brock have been a joy, SkyeCaptain are being a royal pain. My beta reader and I have a disagreement - I think I'm on the fifth re-start, and he insists it's the sixth….

All that to say, it'll be a bit of a delay before "Of Soulmates and Super-Soldiers" is posted. It WILL come, I promise, but it'll be a couple of weeks. Thanks for your understanding and patience!