Natasha got off Steve and waltzed towards the bathroom door. He stood in front of the mirror (shirtless) and gazed horrifying at his face. Well in this case his girlfriend' had drawn a beard and French moustache across his face.

Steve saw Natasha grinning through the reflection of the mirror and charged towards her. He tacked her into the bed and with a pillows began to hit her and watched laughed. She kicked the pillow and its feathers scattered across the room.

"Ohh, you are so cleaning that up!" Steve cheered. "But, I'm not finished yet!"

Steve knew Natasha sustained weakness and therefore watched her beg for mercy. He began to tickled her and watched her squirm and wiggle beneath her. She shook violently and vigorously and in fact turned a shade of pink and red.

"S-S-Stop It! P-Please!" She giggled. Just as if she was a school girl.

"Never." He replied.

"I-I'll c-clean it up! I s-swear." She lightly snorted.

Steve reluctantly let go off Natasha and watched her flop on to the bed and die down of laughter.

"On one condition." She breathed.

"I'm listening."

"You have to supply me with my favourite breakfast, and take me out later." She said.

"Easy, where?" He began.

"It's a date Rogers, you have to surprises me." She smiled.

"Good. Deal?" He asked whilst extending his hand.

Natasha pulled him off the bed and smirked in victory.

"Now it is."

Steve, out of nowhere pulled Natasha atop of him and watched her smile and it. Natasha pecked him on the lips, and lay beside him.

"Now we both win."