Strictly business (until it wasn't) - Chapter 6: Chapter 6

Y/N's POV
The flight was quiet.
Not tense like before. Just... quiet.
We both sat opposite each other, a few feet apart but it felt like oceans away. Natasha had put her tablet away after our conversation, reclining slightly in her seat, eyes closed, but I don't think she was actually asleep.
I stared out the window most of the time, watching the clouds blur by, wondering how something could feel so unfinished and so heavy at the same time. She had said she was scared. That I wasn't a mistake. That I was a risk she wanted to take.
And then she said nothing else for six hours.
Classic Romanoff.
I thought we had come to have a very good working relationship. We worked well together, but now? I didn't know if we could easily slip back into those roles. What happens if she doesn't want to work with me any more?
I didn't know if she was giving me space, or if she needed it herself. Either way, I let it happen. I didn't have the energy to push her again, not when I still didn't know what came next.
When we finally landed, the sun almost completely set, casting long shadows across the runway.
The car was already waiting
She grabbed my carry on sized suitcase from my hand. I went to protest but she nodded for me to move forward. I stepped out into the warm evening air, thankful for one thing at least, it was now the weekend. I wouldn't have to sit across from her in the office. No meetings. No reports. No pretending to ignore the way my chest still clenched whenever she was near.
No pretending at all, for two days.
I slid into the car without a word. She followed a few seconds later. The ride was silent too.
When we pulled up to my place, the driver stopped, and I reached for the door handle, heart thudding. I didn't look at her. Not yet.
"Thanks for the ride," I said, my voice even.
But as I started to get out, her voice stopped me.
"Y/N."
I turned, hand still on the door.
She looked at me, eyes softer than they'd been in days. Tired. Uncertain. Honest. "...Can I see you tomorrow?" she asked.
That wasn't business. That wasn't a meeting. That was her asking.
I nodded. "Yeah. You know where to find me."
I closed the door behind me and didn't look back. I retrieved my bag and walked inside.
All night, all I couldn't get the same two things off my mind. I had no chance with Natasha Romanoff and I was worried that I had just lost a job I really liked with great pay.
I hadn't heard from her since the car.
All night, my phone stayed stubbornly silent. No text. No call. Not even a dry, one-line message in that signature, emotionless tone she used when trying not to feel anything.
By the time Saturday morning rolled around, I'd convinced myself she changed her mind. Maybe she'd meant what she said in the car, maybe she hadn't. I didn't know. I just knew I couldn't sit around staring at the ceiling anymore.
So I went for a run.
The streets were quiet, the kind of quiet that lets your thoughts get too loud. I'd pushed myself harder than usual, hoping to exhaustion would make me think of anything else but Natasha.
No luck.
I was gone for a few hours, I stopped at a cafe, walked around a garden, just enjoying the sunshine.
I was jogging up the street, breath steady but heart still a mess, when I saw someone at the entrance to my building. I slowed, squinting toward the door. Black hoodie, black leggings. Perfect posture. One hand casually resting on her hip while the other pressed the buzzer like it had personally offended her.
Natasha.
She was standing at my front door like she hadn't kept me awake all night. Like she hadn't waited until now to show up.
I slowed to a walk, tugging my earbuds out as I got closer.
"You always show up unannounced?" I called out.
She turned toward me instantly, eyes locking onto mine like she'd been waiting for that voice.
"You did say I could come by," she said.
It wasn't sarcastic. It wasn't cold.
It was real.
She looked... hesitant. Not afraid. Just unsure. Like she wasn't here as Miss Romanoff, but as Natasha. The woman who nearly kissed me in Tokyo. The woman who ran. The woman who might actually be standing in front of me now because she didn't want to run anymore. I could only hope.
I walked up the steps slowly, my breathing still coming down from the run.
"You left me waiting," I said softly.
"I know."
"You made me think you changed your mind."
"I didn't."
We stood there for a second. Just looking at each other. I could feel my pulse pounding in my ears again, but not from the run.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
She swallowed, glancing down for half a second. When she looked back up, her voice was quieter. "I wanted to talk to you outside a work environment, talk about what almost happened."
She stepped closer. "I should've called or messaged last night, even earlier today. I should've done a hundred things differently. But I'm here now. And if you'll let me, I want to explain."
I looked at her, really looked at her. This wasn't an order. This wasn't some power play. This was her, asking.
I reached past her to buzz the door open and nodded toward the stairwell.
"Then come inside," I said. "And say what you need to say."
We'd barely made it up the first flight of stairs when her phone rang. Natasha froze mid-step, jaw tightening. She pulled the phone from her pocket and glanced at the screen, whatever she saw made her expression darken instantly.
"Sorry," she muttered, more to herself than to me, before answering with a clipped, "Romanoff."
I stopped just in front her on the stairs, watching her as she spoke. The conversation was short. Tense. She kept her voice low, her tone sharp and efficient, but I could still hear the edge creeping in.
It wasn't social. It was work. Of course it was.
She ended the call with a final, flat, "I'm on my way," then exhaled hard, pinching the bridge of her nose like she was trying to physically press the headache out of her skull.
She turned slowly to face me, guilt already written all over her face. "I'm so sorry," she said. "I don't want to. I really don't. But I have to go sort this out."
"Do you need me to come with you?" I asked.
"It's okay, I can sort this out. We will talk soon okay."
———
I heard nothing from Natasha all weekend. The next week, I returned to work like nothing had happened.
That's what we do in this job. We bury things. Emotions, hesitation, entire nights, all locked in invisible boxes behind practiced smiles and polished efficiency.
And Natasha?
She didn't say a single word about Tokyo. Not the kiss she almost gave me. Not the apology at my door. Not the promise she made before vanishing down those stairs.
Not even a text.
At first, she was distant. Colder than usual, if that was even possible. No eye contact. Barely speaking unless it was work-related. I could almost pretend she was just busy, because she was always busy, but I knew her rhythms by now. I knew when she was ignoring something. Or someone.
And I was definitely someone she was ignoring.
Then, weirdly, it stopped.
The distance disappeared after a couple of days like it had never been there. She went back to her usual self, commanding, focused, just the right amount of intimidating. The kind of woman who could run the world before noon and leave no trace of the chaos behind.
And I matched her energy.
I showed up. Did my job. Took notes. Made calls. Arranged meetings. I didn't flinch when she said my name or linger in the silence between sentences. I gave up waiting to know what was going through her head.
A week passed.
Then two.
Then three.
Whatever happened, well what almost happened in Tokyo, whatever flickered in the quiet, wine-soaked air of that restaurant, it was gone now. Packed away with the rest of the things she never let anyone see. And if she could pretend it never happened, so could I. At least, that's what I kept telling myself.
Nat's POV
I sat at my desk, my head in my hands, my mind racing. Exhaustion weighed on me like a heavy cloak after a long day of back-to-back meetings, emails, and urgent decisions. The next meeting loomed only an hour away. My usually sharp mind felt dulled by fatigue, and the stress was starting to creep in. I rarely felt this out of control, but today was testing my limits.
It wasn't just work, it was Y/N. I almost kissed her. I wanted to, god I wanted to. It wasn't that I didn't want to kiss her, I just didn't have the capacity in my life for something like that. All I knew was work. I had the occasional fling, they never went anywhere more then a night here and there, because I never wanted more. I had a job to do, a business to run.
I have the perfect assistant and I couldn't screw that up. There was just something different about Y/N and I couldn't be the reason her heart was broken.
Every time I told myself it was for the best if I just moved on and tried to pretend like I didn't just want to run out to her desk and pull her into my arms, I couldn't convince myself.
I sighed, trying to push my thoughts back to my schedule for today. I had one last meeting today. I had everything ready, the speech, the number, the presentation. All the boxes were checked.
It was now 10 minutes before the meeting was scheduled to start. 5 minutes before the start time, the prospective business partners were going to be ushered up to the top floor and taken into the meeting room. I had Y/N make sure that the cleaners had prepared the room last night and I checked in on it this morning. The only thing that was missing earlier was the food and drinks.
Oh shit.
I rushed out of my office, my heels clicking against the polished floors. My usually composed demeanour was cracked, my mind racing as I realised I had forgotten to arrange food and refreshments for the meeting.
I didn't do things like this, things didn't slip through my fingers. I was always in control.
Except, when it came to how I felt about Y/N, I was no way near being in control.
I approached Y/N's desk, fully prepared to ask her to run out and grab something last-minute. But before I could even open my mouth, Y/N looked up from her screen, her serene smile meeting what I assumed was my frazzled expression.
"Every thing is ready, Miss Romanoff," Y/N said warmly, as if she could read my mind.
I hadn't lied to Y/N on Tokyo, I did love the way my voice sounded coming from her lips. And since then, I've hated every time she calls me Miss Romanoff. I wanted to tell her to stop and to call me Natasha again, but by ignoring what had happened a few weeks ago, I don't think I had the right to.
I blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Ready?"
Y/N nodded. "The meeting room is fully set up. Sweet and savoury snacks are on the table, along with water bottles, coffee, and tea. I made sure there were enough options for everyone."
I stared at her for a moment, equal parts impressed and bewildered. "How did you know—"
Y/N's smile grew slightly. "I noticed it wasn't on the schedule, and I figured it might have slipped through. I took care of it just in case."
I exhaled, my shoulders relaxing as relief replaced my earlier stress. "Y/N, you're incredible."
She smile again, that sweet smile of hers. And then it faltered and she turned back to her work.
We had gone back to normal, like how we worked together before the business trip. But I'm sure that Y/N was confused, still rightly so, because I never spoke to her about what happened or how I was feeling. I promised her an explanation as to why I pulled away, and I never gave it.
With a nod of thanks, I made my way to the meeting room. As I opened the door, I paused, taking in the sight before me.
The long table was impeccably arranged, lined with an assortment of sweet and savoury snacks, pastries, fruit platters, sandwiches, and crackers. Each end of the table had neatly stacked water bottles, and a station to the side was stocked with coffee, tea, and all the fixings. It was perfect.
I allowed myself a small, satisfied smile as I stepped inside, my earlier stress melting away. Y/N had thought of everything, and for the first time in a long while, I felt completely prepared.
As the business partners began to arrive, I greeted them with my usual composed professionalism, but my thoughts lingered on Y/N.
Efficient, thoughtful, and always one step ahead, I mused. She's more than an assistant, she's a force to be reckoned with. And, I realised with a flicker of warmth I couldn't ignore, Y/N was making my life not just easier, but better.
After the meeting wrapped up and the business partners filed out of the room, I felt a rare sense of satisfaction. The presentation had gone off without a hitch, and the compliments kept coming. I had expected the meeting to be a success, but the smooth flow of everything, from the presentation to the food, was far beyond my usual expectations.
As the last person walked onto the lift, I glanced at the clock. There was still a bit of time before I would leave for the day, but something told me to check in with Y/N. I was eager to properly thank her for everything.
She wasn't at her desk so I went to my office. When I entered the office, I didn't expected to find Y/N sitting on the couch working. She had already taken the initiative to finish everything that had been sitting on my desk. The papers were neatly organised, the inbox cleared, emails sorted, and even a few reports had been filed. It was as if Y/N had anticipated every task that needed to be done, wrapping up everything before I could even think to ask.
I shouldn't be surprised anymore, she's been like this since day one, but she still surprised me.
I stood frozen for a moment, watching Y/N as she typed something on the laptop sitting on her legs.
Y/N looked up, catching my gaze. She immediately stood, her face lighting up with a hint of uncertainty. "I'm sorry, Ms. Romanoff, if I overstepped again. I just—I know how much you have to do, and I wanted to make sure you could get out of here at a decent time tonight. I came in here so I could spread every out to get it finished quicker. Sorry I shouldn't asked first."
My lips parted, stunned by Y/N's thoughtfulness and efficiency. I had always admired her work ethic, but this? This was beyond that.
"No, Y/N," I said softly, my voice laced with gratitude. I stepped further into the office, walking toward my desk where everything had been so carefully handled. "You didn't overstep. You saved me hours of work."
Y/N shifted nervously but offered a smile. "I'm glad to help."
I exhaled, leaning against the desk. "You're not just helping. You're making my life easier, Y/N." I paused for a moment, my gaze meeting hers with unspoken appreciation. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
Y/N's cheeks flushed slightly. "Just doing what I can."
I took a moment, considering my words carefully.
"You do your job exceptionally well, Y/N. You're... more than just an assistant. You're indispensable."
Y/N's eyes softened, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips. "Thank you, Miss. Romanoff. That means a lot."
Again with the Miss Romanoff.
I looked around the office and then back at Y/N. I had been impressed with Y/N from the start, but today, I felt something more, a genuine sense of admiration and gratitude.
"I think you've earned yourself an early night, Y/N," I said, my voice a little less formal. "You've certainly earned it."
Y/N hesitated for a moment, glancing around at the work she had finished she looked almost disappointed. "Are you sure? There's still a lot left to do."
I gave her a soft, reassuring smile. "I'm sure. Go home, get some rest."
Y/N started packing up work around her. I picked up some files for her and walked with her to her desk. As I placed them down she looked at me.
"Are we okay? I just- I love working for you, I don't want to loose this job but if you don't want me here anymore that's okay. If you don't want me around, you can tell me."
I could say, where had this come from? But I knew the answer. I had avoided and ignored the situation and then went on like nothing happened.
"I like having you here, I couldn't ask for a better assistant." I explained. "I like working with you, Y/N. This doubt that you have, that comes from my inability to communicate. You've done nothing wrong, nothing wrong at all."
The way she looked at me, the way she gave me that small sad smile, I think she understood that me saying she did nothing wrong was referring to Tokyo. I hope she did anyway.
She grabbed her bag and left without a word, just offering a smile as the lift doors closed in front of her.
It wasn't an explanation or an apology. It wasn't Forgiveness, but I think it was okay.