A/N: I've written another story!

This is based on a certain Russian song entitled Котик (Kotik). Because it's Russian, the point-of-view of this story will be from Natasha. It's just a series of fluffs that will encompass some parts of the song. I hope you enjoy!

Котик (Kitty)

Natasha looked at the sleeping soldier on the couch. She was on the way to the kitchen when she sighted Steve, snoozing because of tiredness. She tried to resist the urge but she ended up kneeling in front of him, looking at his relaxed features.

She gave a small smile, one that would look like a smirk, and patted his unkempt hair (there was no reason to make it military clean, anyway).

When Steve closely opened his eyes, he recalled being touched on the cheek, breathed a word, and the clicking of heels.

"Котик …" he remembered hearing that word, making him a bit confused.

"I decided long time ago that I will never fall in love again.

But then you appeared my kitten..."

"Cap, stop treating me like a fucking princess," Natasha snapped as she watched the super soldier multi-tasking: putting pressure on her bleeding leg and avoiding attacks by raising his shield up.

"Am I?" he managed to ask in a grunt as he deflected more bullets. "I don't think you can stand up in that bad leg.

"Well, try me," she dared. She picked up her gun and tried to stand up. However, she realized that the leg injury was really bad. She probably broke, or even shattered, her bone. Steve caught her in time.

"Romanoff, if you're going to act like you can do everything, you're gonna get yourself killed," he said like an old father. "Here, hold this." He handed his shield to her and scooped her up, bridal-style.

Natasha hoped her was not looking and she hoped the other Avengers weren't looking because she felt her cheeks becoming red. "Rogers, I've been through worse!" she shouted, but her voice was drowned by the gunshots.

"Try to shield both of us while I try to get you out of here," he said before standing up from behind the rubble. The spy could only nod wordlessly. She tried not to be distracted with the princess-like help she was receiving by trying to use the shield not just to protect them but also to deflect bullets.

"Good job, Romanoff," she heard the captain sigh as he continued running. At least the number of people attacking them were fewer. He was breathing heavily and she felt his grasp on her falter for some seconds.

Natasha noticed his change in posture so she decided to be more useful by using her comm. "Hey, guys, anyone wants to help us?" she called out through the noise.

At that exact moment, Tony was suddenly hovering above them. "Oooh, this is a nice honeymoon prep," he joked as he saw the two.

"Shut up and blow this place," she answered through gritted teeth.

"Oh right. One blow coming right up," the Iron Man said, causing Natasha's eyes to roll. He released some small missiles that hit everyone while the spy raised the shield to protect the both of them.

After the dust and smoke settled, Tony landed to meet his comrades. Steve was still carrying Natasha, bridal-style. Clint jumped down, saw the scene, and opened his mouth. However, the Widow's glare was enough to shut him up.

"Let's not stay here," the captain ordered. "Natasha's leg is in bad shape. We need medical." He took the shield from her hand and placed it behind him. "Hey, are you with me?"

She could only smile weakly as a response. "Yeah, Cap. Still alive… but not really kicking."

He smirked at her quip. "That means you're fine. Let's go back to the quinjet and patch you up."

"Cap?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you put me down now? I told you, I'm not some kind of princess."

"Oh but you are," he commented with a small smile. "Just let me do the hard work for now." He looked at her with a soft smile, an assuring smile that he had not seen from anyone else. Clint could only give that childish smile followed by a hit on the head. It was nothing like this.

"Yeah, Nat. leave it to the knight," Clint sniggered as they all walked back to their quinjet.

Steve placed her on a makeshift table reserved for the most injured member and ripped the leg part of her catsuit (it was ripped anyway).

"That looks bad," Tony said with a disgusted face. "Do some analysis, please…"

Steve just placed the bad leg on the table. "Hey soldier, it ain't that bad," she said, trying to hide her wince as she moved the wrong way. As she gripped Steve's shoulder, she heard him groan. That's when she saw a bullet wound on his shoulder. "This one is!" she said angrily. "How long have you had this wound?" She realized why he suddenly had a moment of weakness earlier.

Steve grunted, "I think it would be better if you don't touch it."

"You need more help than I do…"

"Natasha. Honestly? I'm okay."

"Okay my ass." She clicked her tongue as she half-pulled Steve to lie on the table. She used her good leg to balance herself. "Tony, can we get back to the tower faster?"

"I'm on it, Princess Natasha." Clint and Tony high-fived with a chuckle before hitting the controls, making the woman put a hand on her hips in dismay.

"Don't worry about me," Steve assured. However, his voice was as if he was being strangled. He might be a super-soldier but he's also human.

"Shut up," she just responded, attempting to use her cold voice. However, she looked at his blue eyes and felt as if she gulped hot soup. "Stupid! You were shot and you even carried me out of that mess!" she thought as she applied pressure on his wound. "You're not invincible. You should stop jumping at every grenade you see."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, giving up. He grinned when he saw her chuckle. Natasha just kept on pressing on the wound using a white cloth that was later damp with red. The spy knew she could not hold herself up much longer; she felt the pressure she was giving becoming less and less. The woman realized that aside from the dumb injury, she was also suffering from overfatigue; it was a 72-hour stealth mission that led to all-out war, anyway.

Everything suddenly blacked out.

"Nat!" she heard his voice and felt an arm trying to break her fall.

Natasha woke up inside a white hospital room, her leg in a cast. She looked beside her and saw Steve sitting on a stool beside her, reading a book. She could see the bandage on his shoulder. "Hey soldier…"

"Hey…"

"How's your shoulder?"

He did not seem surprised at her question. "As far as I know, you're the one who passed out. How's your leg?"

"I'm fine. I can still hit you with this one," she joked, patting the cemented leg.

The man smiled. He placed the book down and heaved a sigh, his eyes closed. "Don't make me worry like that," Steve said, pulling the chair close to her bed. Knowing that this man could not utter a lie, Natasha knew that he was really worried when she was almost showered with bullets in the ruins.

She scoffed, trying to hide indifference in her voice, albeit with difficulty. "Says the guy who ran through a rain of bullets while he was wounded." She looked at his eyes. He laughed at her statement but the blue eyes were carrying a stare that would make any normal person follow orders. Gladly.

She was immune to that stare. Was.

"Sir, yes, sir," she responded with a bored tone before lying down again.

She watched Steve flash a relieved smile. He stood up and offered her a water bottle and a straw. "Drink up, Nat."

"Stop treating me like a baby."

"That's an order, Romanoff."

She huffed before letting Steve help her drink. She gave an appreciative smile after the drink, making him look down in anxiety.

And then one morning, before I've had a chance to open my eyes

You're standing in front of me…