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2014-10-25
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2021-10-31
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Divine Intervention

Summary:

Natasha rescues Maria from the worst Halloween party of her life, with a little help from an unlikely wingman.

Notes:

Based on a tumblr prompt: "Ouija board thinks we should fuck AU" - where Tony rigs all the games

Chapter Text

Everyone knows that ΣΙ throws the best Halloween party on campus, but Maria is still having the worst fucking night. It’s bad enough she'd let Sharon talk her into a couple's costume this year, but on top of that they'd gotten into a huge fight on the way to the party. Sharon ended up dumping her and storming out not twenty minutes after they'd arrived. Now she's stuck in this overcrowded frat house - dressed as Xena, Warrior Princess for fuck's sake! - and she's angry, self-conscious, and completely miserable.

At least there’s free booze.

Getting drunk out of her mind probably won’t make her feel any better, but it’s at least worth a try. Maria elbows her way irritably through the crowd, passing Tony Stark and a few other ΣΙ brothers on her way to the drinks table. They’re huddled around a Ouija board, laughing uproariously, and Maria tries her best to go unnoticed while she pours what is probably an unwise amount of cheap liquor into a cup. She is not in the mood to be mocked by these idiots right now.

“Hey, Red! Red!” Tony shouts, trying to get the attention of the woman leaning against the wall next to Maria. She’s dressed in an exceptionally daring Red Sonja costume made of what appears to be mostly soda can tabs. It looks incredible on her, and she clearly knows it.

The woman eventually humors Tony with a beleaguered glance over the red plastic cup in her hand. “What?”

“The Ouija board says you and Xena should fuck.”

So much for going unnoticed. Maria swears under her breath and takes a swig of her drink, trying to formulate an escape plan.

‘Sonja,’ to her credit, only rolls her eyes. “Fuck off, Tony.”

“Come on, at least make out a little. The Ouija Gods demand it!”

Maria grits her teeth, trying hard to ignore all the eyes that are suddenly on her. Sonja ignores them too, choosing instead to talk to Maria in a voice too low for the ΣΙ guys to hear. “Hey, are you okay?” Her voice is kind, concerned. “Ignore him, he's just a drunken asshole.”

Maria shrugs, trying to seem indifferent. “I'm fine. This isn’t the worst thing that's happened to me tonight.”

 “Yeah, I saw you and your Gabrielle screaming at each other outside.” She winces. “Did she dump you?”

“She did, yeah.” Maria scoffs bitterly, glaring into her cup.

“That's rough, I'm sorry.”

Maria can only shrug again in response. The alcohol is already starting to hit her system, and between the buzz and the embarrassment of being singled out in the middle of the party, Maria doesn’t trust herself not to start shouting – or worse: crying – right now.

To Maria’s further humiliation, Sonja seems to notice her struggle. She rests a reassuring hand on Maria’s forearm, thumb brushing lightly against her skin. “Well, look at it this way: you're the one with the costume that stands alone. She's gotta spend the night as Gabrielle. What do you want to bet she's already tired of people asking where her Xena is?” Sonja laughs at the thought.

“That... actually kind of helps. Thanks.”

“Don't mention it,” She slugs Maria amicably on the shoulder, then adds with a small, sympathetic smile, “You're gonna be okay.”

“Oh, yeah! Girl fight! That'd appease the Ouija Gods, too.” Tony jeers at them. Sonja flips him off, but otherwise pays him no attention.

She rolls her eyes again and nudges Maria. “Sorry about Tony. He thinks he can say shit like that to me because he's dating my roommate. I'm sorry he dragged you into it.”

Maria puts two and two together. “Wait, you're roommates with Pepper Potts?”

Sonja grins. “Yeah, have been since sophomore year. How do you know Pepper?”

“She's in my major. We've had a bunch of classes together.”

“Business or Political Science?” Sonja’s eyes flash with genuine curiosity. She tucks a few loose strands of hair behind her ear.

A creeping realization makes Maria’s ears start to burn. Playing with her hair, maintaining eye contact, enthusiastically engaging in small talk... Oh god, is she flirting?

Maria blinks a few times, quickly regaining her composure enough to answer the question. “Poli Sci. I’m Maria, by the way.”

“Maria Hill?” Her eyebrows rise as she makes the connection. “As in, Vice President of the Student Government Association, Maria Hill?”

Maria hopes she can blame the alcohol for the way her cheeks flush. “Yeah.”

“Nice to meet you. I'm Natasha Romanov.” Sonja – Natasha – reaches out to shake her hand.

The name is definitely familiar. “I've heard of you. You're with the performing arts school, right?”

“Theater and Dance, yeah.”

“Two double majors in one room? It’s a wonder your dorm is still standing,” Maria teases. Maybe it’s just the alcohol, but Natasha is surprisingly easy to flirt with.

“And yet they continue to let us live together.” Natasha’s hips shift ever so slightly closer to Maria’s. Her laugh is infectious, and Maria finds herself grinning despite her earlier terrible mood.

“Now kiss her! Do it for the Ouija Gods!” Tony shouts, pinning the attention of everyone in the room right back on the two of them again.

Yet again, Natasha takes it in stride. “Ugh, what an asshole. Do you want to get out of here?”

Maria crooks an eyebrow. “And go where, exactly?”

“My room? I've got better booze than this party, that's for sure.”

The suggestion catches Maria by surprise, as does her answer. “Uh... yeah, okay.”

Natasha’s eyes flash as she downs the rest of her drink. “Let’s not give these guys the satisfaction of seeing us leave together, though. Meet me out front in 5 minutes?” She doesn’t wait for Maria’s response before turning on her heel and disappearing into the crowd – toward the back of the house, Maria notes – much to the groaning disappointment of Tony and the rest of his ΣΙ buddies.

For a few minutes, Maria remains rooted in place, head spinning. She nurses the remnants of her drink as she tries to make up her mind. She shouldn’t follow Natasha. She knows she shouldn’t. She’s a little drunk – they’re both a little drunk, come to think of it – and besides, it’s far too soon.

On the other hand, Sharon broke up with her, not the other way around. Would anyone really judge her for drunkenly hooking up with someone at a frat’s Halloween party after getting loudly and publicly dumped in front of everyone at said party? She’s getting ahead of herself, of course: Natasha only offered flirtation, good liquor, and a respite from the raucous, costumed crowd. There’s no harm in any of that, is there? Maria throws back the rest of her drink, nose wrinkling at the way the cheap liquor burns in her throat. Yes, good liquor is definitely in order.

Somehow, Maria manages to shove her way to the front door without drawing any more attention to herself. She half-expects Natasha to be nowhere in sight, but she soon catches sight of her standing a little ways off, her breath clouding in front of her in the crisp autumn air. Her bare skin – oh, so much bare skin – is tinged pink from the chill.

Maria raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Not really,” Natasha shrugs.

Maria remains unconvinced. “I’m cold just looking at you.”

Natasha only laughs. “It’s not that far a walk. Come on.”

She takes off across the green, and Maria finds herself jogging a few steps to catch up despite her longer strides. They pass the quick trek across campus to Natasha and Pepper’s dorm in a comfortable silence, but Maria’s stomach starts to tighten into a knot when they pause outside the door.

Natasha pokes her head into her room a bit hesitantly. “Pepper?” There’s no response, so she opens the door the rest of the way and ushers Maria inside. “You can sit down if you’d like,” she offers, gesturing to her side of the room.

“Thanks.” Maria feels a little awkward perching on the edge of Natasha’s narrow bed, but there really aren’t many other places to sit, and neither the desk chair nor the floor seems like a better option. Her eyes roam the room while Natasha rummages in her closet. It seems like an exceptionally large room, but that could just be because it’s far tidier than the average dorm room. Before she can process many of the details, Natasha re-emerges with an expensive-looking bottle of vodka and two glasses.

“Told you I had the good stuff,” she smirks and pours them each a generous amount.

Maria accepts her glass with a grin. “You weren’t kidding. Though, I’m pretty sure anything would be better than the stuff they had at that party.”

Natasha makes a face and laughs in agreement, settling next to Maria on the bed. She wedges her pillow between herself and the wall and reclines back against it.

They’re so very close to one another, and Natasha’s skin looks so soft and inviting, but Maria wills herself to keep her hands wrapped around her glass instead. Natasha hasn’t exactly given her a clear invitation, and it wouldn’t be the first time she’s misinterpreted a situation like this... Maria’s face starts to flush again and she takes a sip to cover for it, the smooth heat in the back of her throat a welcome improvement over her earlier drink.

There’s tension in the silence that stretches out between the two of them, anticipatory but not necessarily uncomfortable. Natasha breaks it first, her voice low.

“I’m sorry you’re having such a rough night.”

“It’s okay, really,” Maria insists, sounding more confident than she feels. “Thank you for rescuing me from that party.”

“You’re welcome.” Natasha shifts even closer and rests a hand on Maria’s knee. “Look, no pressure or anything, but if you want my help forgetting about your ex tonight, I'm amenable.”

Maria’s heart leaps into her throat, pounding wildly. There’s not much to misinterpret about that... She reaches up to cup Natasha’s cheek and leans in, pausing with barely an inch between their lips.

“We wouldn’t want to upset the Ouija Gods, now, would we?”

 

Chapter 2

Notes:

I swear I meant for this fic to be a oneshot. Oops.

Chapter Text

There’s an instant, just before their lips meet, when Maria’s stomach jolts as if the floor dropped out from under her, a brief moment of panic as the reality of what’s about to happen strikes home. A second later, Natasha closes the distance between them, effectively wiping Maria’s mind of all coherent thoughts. For the first time all evening, Maria lets herself feel rather than think.

It’s surprisingly easy to do.

The kiss is light, little more than the warm press of Natasha’s lips against Maria’s, but the invitation behind it is clear. Emboldened, Maria deepens the kiss. She slots Natasha’s lower lip between hers, and she’s amazed to feel Natasha’s lips part eagerly in response. Of course, now comes the usual first kiss dilemma: should she use tongue? What about teeth? How much is too much? Or is too little worse? How strongly does her breath smell like liquor--

No, she reminds herself. No thinking right now.

Maria wills herself to relax as Natasha threads her fingers into her hair and kisses her again and again. It quickly becomes apparent that Natasha is an exceptionally good kisser. Her lips are soft and just a little sweet underneath the lingering bite of the vodka. She seems perfectly content to follow Maria’s lead, matching her touch for touch, breath for breath. It isn’t long before Maria’s head starts to swim, spurred on by the small sounds that catch in the back of Natasha’s throat every time Maria’s teeth graze her lower lip.

When Maria tries to reach for Natasha’s waist, though, Natasha shudders and flinches away from the touch.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Natasha laughs. “Your hands are just a little cold.”

“Sorry!” Mortified, Maria pulls her hands away and rubs them together to warm them up.

“Don’t worry. I don’t mind. Here…” Much to Maria’s amazement, Natasha straddles her lap, bracing her thighs on either side of Maria’s hips. She takes both of Maria’s hands in hers, guiding them back to her waist before leaning down to slip her tongue back into Maria’s mouth.

Maria groans into the kiss, heat starting to color her cheeks and pool in her belly. Above her, Natasha hums her approval as Maria lets her hands wander over the lean muscles of Natasha’s back and shoulders. Her costume leaves nearly the entire expanse of smooth, soft skin exposed to Maria’s hands, and Maria takes full advantage of that fact.  She drags her blunt nails down Natasha’s back experimentally, until her fingers catch on the strap of Natasha’s costume. Natasha rewards her with a gasp and a roll of her hips. She breaks the kiss, leaving Maria to catch her breath while she unclasps her top and lets it slip off her shoulders, baring her breasts.

“Oh, wow.” Maria’s mouth is hanging open like a complete idiot, she knows it, but she just can’t help herself. No longer protected from the chill of the room, Natasha’s nipples are already drawing taut and peaked, right before her eyes. For a moment, Maria can only stare, mesmerized.

As if reading her mind, Natasha chuckles warmly. “You can touch me if you want.”

Maria doesn’t need any more encouragement; she trails her fingers up Natasha’s sides and palms at Natasha’s breasts. Her touch is not nearly as graceful as she could have hoped, but Natasha doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. She arches her back into Maria’s hands and sighs happily as her eyes flutter shut.

Somehow, Maria manages to find her voice again. “Are my hands still cold?” she asks, somewhat self-consciously.

“No,” Natasha breathes. “No, they’re perfect.”

“Okay. Good.”

Natasha rocks forward and presses a searing kiss to the spot just below Maria’s ear.

“Don’t leave any marks, okay?” Maria manages to ask between ragged breaths.

“I won’t,” Natasha promises, her tongue gliding across Maria’s pulse point.

Satisfied, Maria tilts her head to give Natasha more room to trail her lips and teeth and tongue along the underside of her jaw. Despite her hands being pinned awkwardly between their bodies, Maria manages to find an angle that allows her to roll her thumb around Natasha’s nipple, coaxing it to harden again. Much to Maria’s delight, Natasha moans breathlessly against her neck, the sound and the heat of her mouth sending electricity crackling through Maria’s body. She shivers and repeats the motion again and again, pausing every so often to turn her attention to Natasha’s other breast or to pinch her nipples gently between her thumb and forefinger.

Far too soon, Natasha pulls away with a gasp. “Can I take your top off?”

Maria’s face flushes at the question, and she shrugs sheepishly. “You can try. It’s kind of an elaborate costume,” she explains by way of an apology.

“I’m sure we can figure it out,” Natasha laughs, climbing off of Maria’s lap – much to Maria’s disappointment.

At Natasha’s prompting, Maria leans forward to give her access to the straps and laces that hold the top of her costume in place. For a moment, she curses Sharon for talking her into wearing the damned thing in the first place, but the stab of guilt and hurt that comes with the thought momentarily drives the air from her lungs. Gritting her teeth, Maria busies herself with the relatively easy task of tugging off her boots, arm bands, and vambraces while Natasha tugs at the laces of her top.

It takes the two of them another few minutes to figure out how to free Maria, just long enough to chase all thoughts of Sharon from Maria’s mind. When Natasha finally tugs the loosened top up over Maria’s head, she tosses it to the floor with a triumphant laugh, and Maria laughs right along with her.

The multi-paneled skirt is significantly easier to unfasten and tug down to the floor, leaving Maria in only her underwear. They’re not even particularly cute underwear, just a pair of plain grey boxer briefs. Maria hadn’t exactly planned on having to impress anyone tonight, a fact she rapidly starts to regret as Natasha makes quick work of stripping out of the rest of her own costume.

Natasha is undeniably and unequivocally gorgeous. Her skin is so very pale, her breasts and hips and thighs dusted with a scant few moles like the ones on her nose and cheek. She has the perfect dancer’s body, lean and toned, with curves like something out of a painting. Everything about her is graceful and beautiful and perfect.

Maria crosses her arms self-consciously over her chest, but she still feels incredibly exposed and woefully inadequate. What’s worse, Natasha instantly notices her insecurity.

“Hey,” she murmurs. “May I touch you?”

Maria nods, faking more confidence than she feels. Her dusky skin is imprinted with crisscrossing red marks left there by the tight corset top of her costume, but Natasha’s fingers trace over them appreciatively, almost reverently. Maria shudders as her hands work their way lower, sweeping over her ribs, her stomach, the handful of stray dark hairs that trail down her lower belly to disappear past the waistband of her underwear. To Maria’s amazement, Natasha’s eyes darken with every touch.

“God, Maria, you are so hot.”

“I… But…” Maria stammers. “Thank you. So are you.” She mentally kicks herself for sounding so tongue-tied and lame.

Natasha only chuckles low in her throat, a warm - if somewhat intimidating - sound. “You’re sweet.” Maria starts to argue indignantly, but Natasha cuts her off. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

This time, it’s Maria’s turn to laugh. “Thank you. I do have a reputation to uphold, after all.”

Natasha merely hums her agreement and shifts closer, bare skin brushing against bare skin, and kisses Maria deeply. Maria’s hands fly instinctively to Natasha’s waist, and just like that, the heat that had been simmering below the surface flares back to life. Maria kisses her back eagerly, over and over until they’re both breathless and every point of contact between them crackles with anticipation.

Maria practically growls in frustration when Natasha pulls away again.

 “I know, I know. Just gimme a second…” Natasha wrinkles her nose and kisses her quickly in apology. With that, she rummages under the bed and resurfaces with a few individually wrapped dental dams and a small bottle of expensive-looking lube.

“Do you want medium or large gloves?” Natasha asks, pulling a storage bin full of boxes of nitrile gloves out from under the bed.

Maria raises an eyebrow. “Uh, I think I wore medium gloves in freshman bio.”

“Do you want ‘em in black, blue, or purple?”

“Uh…”

“What the hell, it’s Halloween, right?” Natasha grabs two pairs of black gloves out of the box and unceremoniously slides the bin back under the bed.

Maria blinks at her, nonplussed. “Where did you get all this stuff?”

“Volunteering for the safer sex education group on campus has its perks,” Natasha grins.

“Is this really necessary?” Maria asks, starting to feel self-conscious again.

Natasha’s smile is patient and kind. “If I had a cock, you'd want me to wear a condom, right?”

Maria nods.

“Same principle. You don't know who else I've slept with. I don't know who else besides Sharon you've slept with. Better safe than sorry, right?” Natasha puts on a pair of gloves and sinks to her knees between Maria's legs.

Maria nods again, but a weight begins to settle on her chest. Sharon. Sharon wasn’t her first, of course, but she had been Sharon’s. Even if Sharon was the one to dump her, maybe it'd be better not to burn that bridge before they'd had a chance to cool off and talk it over. She owed her that, at least.

Maria’s heart races. She holds her breath as Natasha kisses her way up the inside of her thigh.

“Just relax. I'll show you how it's done,” Natasha purrs, reaching for the waistband of Maria’s underwear.

“No.”

Natasha sits back on her heels, instantly breaking all points of contact between the two of them. “What’s wrong?” she asks gently, the concern evident in her voice.

“I can’t,” Maria gasps. Her pulse pounds with the effort of keeping her voice even, but it’s a losing battle. “I don’t… It’s not fair…”

Natasha puts two and two together and gets up off the floor, perching on the bed next to her. “Oh, Maria, I-“

“I’m sorry.” Maria squeezes her eyes shut and draws her knees up to her chest, curling in on herself. “I want to, I do, but I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Shhh, hey, it’s okay. I understand.” Natasha quickly tugs off her gloves, then reaches out to place a hand tentatively between Maria’s shoulder blades.

“I’m sorry.” The words just keep tumbling out of Maria’s mouth despite her best efforts, until her shoulders finally sag in defeat. “I should go.”

“You don’t have to.”

Maria only stares at her, at a loss for words, so Natasha continues.

“Your roommates are probably still out partying, right?”

“Actually, I have a single,” Maria argues, halfheartedly.

Natasha smiles sympathetically. “All the more reason for you to stay here. You shouldn’t have to be alone tonight. Stay.”

Maria remains unconvinced, but Natasha insists.

“How about this,” she proposes, getting up and digging around in the top drawer of her dresser. She re-emerges with a t-shirt, a pair of sweatpants, a hooded sweatshirt, and a reusable shopping bag. “Put those on. I’ll put your costume in here so you can carry it across campus without anyone knowing. Nothing else has to happen tonight. You can leave whenever you want,” Natasha promises, then adds with a small smile, “but I’d like it if you’d stay. For the Ouija Gods?”

Maria laughs despite herself. After another moment of hesitation, she takes the bundle of clothes from Natasha and puts on the shirt and sweatpants. She considers putting on the sweatshirt, too, but she eventually decides she’s warm and safe enough without it. She sets it aside and picks up her half-finished glass of vodka, downing the last mouthful in one swallow. Now that she’s calmed down a bit, she ventures a glance at Natasha, feeling a little foolish.

“I really am sorry,” she insists softly.

Natasha dismisses her with a small shrug as she pulls a tank top over her head. “You don’t need to apologize. Really. I just wanted to help you feel better.” She tugs on a pair of shorts for good measure, then climbs back onto the bed next to Maria.

Maria draws a deep breath, holds it for a few seconds, and then lets it go slowly.

“Thank you for rescuing me from that party.”

“You’re more than welcome.”

Maria bites her lower lip and throws Natasha a sidelong glance. “Can I kiss you again?”

“Of course,” Natasha smiles warmly and wraps an arm around Maria’s waist.

Maria brushes her lips over Natasha’s once, then again, and again. After a few minutes, Natasha pulls away just long enough to switch off the lamp on her desk, and then it doesn’t take much coaxing for Maria to lie down next to her on the narrow dorm room bed. Somehow, once Natasha pulls the covers up over the two of them, Maria feels safe, even though she’s wedged between Natasha and the wall. Natasha’s lips are warm and reassuring against hers, their limbs manage to twine together comfortably, and it isn’t long before they both drift off to sleep.

Chapter Text

The sun is only just beginning to rise by the time Pepper makes it back to her dorm. In the stillness of the early morning, she swipes into the building and climbs the two flights of stairs to her floor. She pads silently down the hall in stocking feet, her discarded heels dangling from one exhausted hand. Outside her door, she does her best to keep her keys from jangling too loudly in the lock. After a night like Halloween, it's likely that Natasha is still out, but just in case she's home and asleep, she doesn't want to wake her.

Much to her surprise, she sees the glint of metal from Natasha's costume pooled on the floor as soon as she walks in the door. The blankets of her bed are pulled all the way up to the headboard, the cozy-looking bundle rising and falling gently. Pepper can't help the stab of pity that slices through her, though she knows it's silly. Natasha only ever goes home alone when she wants to. Still, it was Halloween, and the costume Natasha had spent weeks making didn't exactly scream 'I'm going to go to bed at a reasonable hour.' Most likely she had just opted not to let her latest conquest stay the night. Pepper will have to see if she can get her to share the details later.

She undoes the various hooks and laces of her bodice and lifts away layers and layers at a time. She drapes the ornate costume carefully over the back of her desk chair. In hindsight, it probably wasn't smart to go to a frat party in full Elizabethan garb. It had taken her hours to get ready. It will surely take her forever to scrub off all the white face paint and get her hair back to some semblance of normalcy before she can even think about getting some sleep. At last, she steps out of the final layer of skirt, reaches for her bathrobe and toiletries kit, and makes her way down the hall to the bathroom.

Pepper pushes open the bathroom door, only to come face-to-face with a sleep-tousled Natasha. She blinks, taken aback. Wasn't Nat just asleep in her–

"Hey, Pep." Nat shoots her a sleepy smile.

Pepper can't help the delighted, mock-scandalized grin that spreads across her face. "Natasha Romanov, who is asleep in your bed right now?!"

Natasha makes a face, not embarrassed, but a little uneasy. "Ah, right. About that."

Pepper raises an eyebrow. Natasha isn't usually like this when it comes to talking about her sex life. She usually has something witty and audacious to say on the matter. Whatever happened last night, it clearly wasn't what Natasha had expected. Pepper only waits for her to continue.

"It's kind of a long story. Are you going to shower?"

"I spent the night at the ΣΙ house; I'm going to shower until finals week," Pepper deadpans, holding up her basket of toiletries to emphasize her point. "And I need to do some serious damage control to my pores after all this makeup."

Natasha chuckles, relief evident on her face. "Take your time, okay? I want to give them the chance to get dressed without being found out. I don't want to embarrass them."

"Of course," Pepper smiles. Natasha really is one of the kindest people Pepper knows, and she loves her for it.

"Thanks, Pepper. Enjoy your shower."

 

Natasha heads back to her room, an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach. The shades are still drawn, and Maria is still bundled up in her bed, sound asleep. She sits gingerly on the edge of the bed next to her sleeping form. The warm blankets and the steady rise and fall of Maria's breaths are so inviting that it takes all of her willpower not to just climb back under the covers, wrap Maria's arm back around her waist, and fall back asleep for another few hours. It seems a shame to wake Maria up if she's sleeping well. Poor thing could use the rest after the night she had.

She'll be happier if she can get out of here unnoticed, though.

Gently, she locates Maria's shoulder in the mass of blankets and shakes it a few times. The sounds Maria makes as she comes fully awake tug at Natasha's heart. She smiles as Maria extracts herself from the covers.

"Hmmm?" Maria's hair is sticking up on one side, and her bleary squint is endearing as fuck. It takes her a moment to remember where she is.

"My roommate is going to come back soon," Natasha explains with an apologetic half-smile. "You can stay if you want, but if you don't want her to know you were here, now's your chance."

That seems to cut through Maria's drowsiness. She peels back the covers and swings her legs over the edge of the bed, albeit reluctantly.

"Thanks for the heads up." She pauses, looking down at the borrowed pajamas she has on.

"Just hold onto them. No need to do the Walk of Shame in a Halloween costume - though I'm sure you won't be the only one," Natasha chuckles. "You know where I live. You can return them whenever."

The look Maria gives her is grateful, if a little uneasy. Now that she's fully awake, Natasha can see her mind drifting back to the events of the previous night. Her thoughts weigh down her limbs as she tugs on her boots and pulls the sweatshirt Natasha offers her over her head. Finally, she picks up the bag with her costume from last night and heads for the door.

"Thank you for spending the rest of your Halloween with me," she says softly, pausing with a hand on the doorknob. "I'm sorry I wasn't the best company."

"Don't be. I had a nice time." Maria opens her mouth to argue, but Natasha cuts her off with a hand on her arm. "I mean it. You don't have to be at your best to be worth spending time with. Besides, you're a hell of a big spoon."

Her teasing earns her a small, lopsided smile.

"Yeah?"

Natasha nods. "You're gonna be alright. Take care of yourself, okay? Go watch shitty TV and order too much Chinese food or something."

"That's a good idea."

"Thanks. I'm full of them." Natasha grins and leans against the wall by the door, going for nonchalance as she adds, "If you ever want to talk, or just need a distraction, you know where to find me."

Maria furtively licks her lips, but she follows the motion with a rueful shake of her head. "That could get messy. I think I have to figure some things out first."

She's right. Natasha knows she's right, but to her surprise, it still stings. She covers with a small shrug.

"No pressure. The offer stands."

"Thank you." Maria lifts the bag with her costume in it a little higher on her shoulder. She reaches again for the doorknob, and again she pauses without turning it.

She may be pushing her luck, but Natasha steps a little closer. "Can I kiss you goodbye now? Just in case you decide not to take me up on it?"

Maria blinks at her, breath catching. The corner of her mouth quirks upward just a little. "Yeah, okay."

Natasha goes up on her toes to kiss her, and Maria meets her halfway. Her lips are warm and soft, but the kiss is just bittersweet enough that Natasha doesn't let it linger.

"Bye," she breathes as she pulls away.

"Bye," Maria echoes with a small smile. Then she opens the door and slips through it.

Natasha makes herself close it behind her.

 

Mercifully, Maria makes it down the hall, down the stairs, and out of the dorm without running into anyone at all. She breathes a sigh of relief and trudges off across campus. The early morning air bites at her cheeks, and the first few cold rays of sunlight catch at the wisps of fog hovering low over the ground. Here and there, the grass crackles with frost. Her feet shuffle through the smattering of fallen leaves that the grounds crew hasn't gotten around to blowing into piles or carting off in the back of their little go-carts yet. It's a shame this place is so well manicured; it would be nice to have more leaves to crunch through. It is October, after all.

No. By now it's November, she corrects herself. Halloween has come and gone. She had been dreading it, but she'd made it through alive, if not entirely unscathed.

Before long, the cold sinks through her borrowed clothes, making her shiver. The sweatshirt is almost warm enough, but she pulls the hood up anyway, whether to keep out the chill or to hide her face she's not entirely sure. She knows she should probably quicken her pace, but the chill suits the hollow feeling in the middle of her chest, and so she takes her time making her way back to her dorm.

She passes no one else on the green or on the path behind the gym that leads to her dorm, though it comes as no surprise. After one of the biggest party nights of the year, everyone else is likely either still in bed – their own or someone else's – or too hung over to venture to the dining halls for breakfast just yet. Being the only exception leaves a chill in her limbs that has nothing to do with the autumn air.

Still, it beats running into anyone else right now--

"Maria?"

The moment she rounds the corner and the door of her dorm is finally in sight, the absolute last voice she wants to hear reaches her. Her feel falter, then come to a stop. She lifts her eyes to find Sharon approaching her with wide strides.

"There you are! You weren't answering your phone, you weren't in your room, no one remembers seeing you for very long last n--" She stops short. "Wait, whose sweatshirt is that?"

Maria opens her mouth, even though she has no idea what's about to come out of it in her defense.

Sharon doesn't give her the chance to explain, having put two and two together. "That was fucking fast!"

Just like that, the shame of having been caught sneaking back to her dorm evaporates, to be replaced by anger and frustration. "No, hey, you don't get to yell at me about this. You're the one who left me standing alone at that party like a total fool. You have no idea what happened after that."

"I have a pretty good idea, Hill." Sharon crosses her arms and scowls. "I can't believe you would go and immediately hook up with someone. I know you can be cold, but I didn't think you were cruel."

Maria bristles. Sharon's words sting, and she's ashamed of how close they come to the truth, but that doesn't mean she isn't going to defend herself. "You're jumping to conclusions again. We've talked about this."

For a moment, Sharon looks like she's going to keep arguing with her, but to Maria's surprise she doesn't. Her shoulders slump, and her frown softens just a little. "No, you're right. I'm sorry I was an asshole last night. You just drive me crazy sometimes, you know? It's like you'd rather keep your death grip on that hard-ass reputation of yours than do anything that's important to me."

Maria sighs. "I tried, Sharon. I tried as hard as I could. No one else would have gotten me to wear anything remotely like that costume. I didn't want to - you know I didn't want to - but I did it anyway, because I knew it was important to you. I wore it, and I went out with you in it, because I knew it was important to you."

"You looked like I had a gun to your back the whole time," Sharon protests.

"I couldn't help that. You know it was hard for me, but I did it anyway. If that isn't enough, I don't think anything is ever going to be."

As she says it, Maria feels deep down that the words are absolutely true.

"I'm sorry." Sharon's eyes well up. "I'm sorry for what I said last night. Is it too late for me to take it back? I want this to work."

"I don't think it's going to."

The realization hurts, shuddering through her body like a blast of icy wind. She grits her teeth against the feeling, and a moment later it's followed by something like relief. Maria was so afraid she wouldn't make it through this conversation without screaming or crying, but as the reality of what she's saying sinks in, she's left only with an odd sense of calm. She still feels guilty about having gone home with Natasha – even if very little had actually happened – but she knows that there's no way she would have done it if she thought this relationship with Sharon could be salvageable. There was no point drawing this out anymore.

"No, I think you meant what you said." Maria shakes her head and takes a step back. "I think it's best if we take some space. I don't know where we go from here, but I do know it'll be easier on both of us if we don't talk for a while. A clean break. Can you do that?"

Sharon gapes at her like she's drowning, but eventually she clenches her jaw and nods sullenly. "If that's what you want."

"I don't really know what I want," Maria admits. She shivers, feeling exposed. "And it sounds like you don't, either, so let's take some time."

She's not proud of herself for it, but she doesn't have anything left inside of her to give to this conversation, so she turns on her heel and goes inside. At least this time Sharon is the one left standing, hurt and bewildered, on her own.

 

For the first time in her college career, Maria spends the entire weekend alone in her dorm room. She neglects all of her homework - though her professors know better than to assign anything due on Monday morning after Halloween weekend anyway - and grasps at distraction after distraction, trying to keep her mind from running away with her. She curls up in a blanket and watches nearly an entire season of some mindless TV show. She orders a truly unwise amount of Chinese food from the cheap place in town. She goes through more of her box of tissues than she's proud of. She thinks about calling Sharon at least a dozen times, and despite her best efforts not to, she thinks about calling Natasha at least a dozen more.

By the time she has to emerge from her fortress to go to her Monday morning class, the campus feels strange and unfamiliar. Students have returned to the walkways and open spaces, and here and there she hears her name and Sharon's hissed in hushed voices that fall silent as she draws closer. Of course it was too much to hope that word of their fight and breakup had not spread. Glances linger as she passes, and she does her best to ignore them with the same closed-off expression she always wears. She has to clench her jaw a little tighter to keep the heat from creeping up the back of her neck at the feeling of being the topic of so many conversations, but by the time she makes it to class she realizes something that fills her with relief: she's heard her name and Sharon's, but not once has she heard Natasha's. Even Pepper, arriving too alert and well put-together for an 8am class, gives her little more than her usual small, cordial smile as she takes her seat. There isn't even a hint of gossip brewing behind her eyes. Maria knows her well enough to know that her poker face isn't good enough to keep something as juicy as an ill-advised hookup under wraps this well.

Could it be that she actually got away with her little indiscretion with Natasha undetected?

The day passes uneventfully, and then another, and by the end of the week the whispers behind her back have almost entirely ceased. It still hurts - of course it does - but it hurts a little less to know that she had managed not to turn an already awful situation into an even bigger mess. She hadn't let her feelings get the best of her, and now she can actually spend some time sorting them out and figuring out what she wants.

She talks to her friends about what happened with Sharon. Steve and Sam and Carol are nothing but kind and supportive, offering to keep her company and distract her with trips to the gym or the student center. Still, she can't help but wonder what would happen if she were to take Natasha up on her offer to keep her company, too.

She'd better not. This is a small campus, and it is far too soon. Even if nothing happens between them, people will still talk. It's a small miracle no one is talking already. Maybe it's better to take that miracle and quit while she's ahead.

There is still the matter of the borrowed pajamas, though.

She washes them, folds them neatly, and puts them back into the bag. For good measure, she writes a simple thank you note and signs it with a drawing of a ouija cursor. At least, she hopes it looks like a ouija cursor; drawing was never her strong suit. She chooses her moment carefully, timing her trip back to Natasha's dorm when she knows Pepper is likely to be out running a tutoring session and most of the rest of campus is busy with extracurriculars or an early dinner. She makes it into the building and up the stairs without running into anyone who might pay any attention to her, and she sets the bag outside Natasha's door. Now all she has to do is get back out without being spotted.

Instead, her feet draw to a stop, anchored in place by an unseen force she can't quite shake. She stares down at the bag at her feet. This is a bad idea. It's smarter to leave what happened on Halloween behind and avoid stirring up any drama. All she needs to do is walk away.

And yet her hand starts to move on its own. Her heart leaps into her throat as she follows the pull and knocks on Natasha's door.