"What are you doing?" Nat asked, coming into his floor. Steve looked up from his sketchbook with a smirk.

"The usual," he said, holding up the book for her to see, "Trying to sketch you. I can't get the lips right, though."

His brows furrowed in concern, something Natasha found completely endearing - although she would never tell him. She walked over and sat next to him, crossing her legs on the couch and leaning her head against his shoulder.

"Maybe having them up close and in your face will help," she teased, pouting her lips playfully, "How about now?"

"Ah, much better," he said, chuckling. Steve grabbed his pencil and lightly drew outrageously curvy lips on his sketch, making Nat laugh.

"Looks just like me," she laughed, "How about I draw now?"

"You draw?"

"Not really, but I think it's time for an art class. C'mon soldier, time for lesson one."

Steve smirked again, erasing the cartoon lips he had drawn and glided the pencil across the page to draw Natasha's full lips accurately this time - finishing the sketch. Once satisfied, he turned the page and handed the book over to Nat, pencil too.

"Alright, what do you want to sketch first?" Steve asked, placing his arm around her to pull her closer. Nat welcomed it, cuddling closer to him and stretching her legs over his lap.

"How about I make it a surprise and you can critique my work afterwards?"

"Deal."

And so Natasha Romanoff took the pencil and scooted away from Steve's shoulder, leaning the sketchbook against her bent legs to rest on her thighs. This shielded him from whatever she was going to sketch, and although it was hard to resist curiosity he took a book from the coffee table besides him and opened it to the chapter he had left off in.

They stayed that way, huddled together comfortably fully enjoying the peace in his floor now that the rest of the team was off around the world - Barton and Bruce in Nicaragua, Thor and Stark in Ukraine. Nat and Steve right where they wanted to be.

"You really won't tell me what you're drawing?" he asked after minutes of silence.

"Almost done….just gotta get this," Nat answered, her eyes not leaving the paper as she pursed her lips, "You make it look easy."

Steve chuckled, setting his book down. It was useless to feign interest in anything other than Nat, especially when she was so close and so his. Her legs, still stretched over his lap, were exposed in her dark, denim shorts. He lay his head back onto the cushions as he caressed her thigh down to the lower part of her curved calf - without realizing how much of a distraction it was for her.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her erase a chunk of her sketch furiously - this time biting her lip almost angrily. He smirked.

"Having trouble?"

"None at all," she said, finally looking up at him, "Even though my art teacher is too busy touching me rather than giving me tips and lessons."

"You won't show me what you're doing...and touching you is inevitable."

"If I show you what I'm doing, will you finish it? I want it to look the way it's in my head but...you're the expert. I want you to finish it."

"I promise I will."

"Great, and then I get to keep it."

"Show me then," Steve said. He didn't know what to expect and as Natasha turned the sketchbook towards him, he was reminded of why it was so beautiful to be taken by surprise when it came to Nat.

Before him was a rough sketch of a ballerina, poised in a perfect pirouette, a rough outline of a spacious dance studio, and in the corner of the sketch an outline of what could be him with the same sketchbook looking - no - gazing at the ballerina.

Steve was speechless for a moment.

"It's the way I think you look at me sometimes and if the world were a normal place, I would have liked for our story to have started off as the artist and the ballerina...instead of the soldier and the spy."

"I see you for you, Nat - as beautiful as you are whichever way I see you."

"You'll finish this for me?"

"I'd do anything for you," he answered, not looking away from the sketch.

"Oh, anything…." she said and he recognized her tone instantly, "How about we take this party to a more private sector and see what else your hands can do to me?"

"Like I said…" he smirked, carrying her in a full sweep towards his room, "Anything for you."