Summary: Steve and Natasha go on what their friends call their first "official date". Unfortunately, things don't go exactly how they planned and somehow they end up walking home.

"Aww!" Maria exclaimed, watching Natasha grab her phone and a twenty-dollar bill.

The two of them had spent the last hour getting Natasha ready for her first "official date" with Steve. Everyone had collectively agreed (besides Steve and Natasha) that the coffee date after school a week ago hadn't counted. It was a fair enough argument seeing as they regularly went out for coffee together, so they humoured their friends and were now going on a real date.

"Shut up," Natasha said, hiding a smile to glare playfully at Maria.

Maria grinned as Natasha slipped on a pair of Maria's heels, effectively dressing up her black jeans and dark leather jacket. While they had agreed to do a real date, they still weren't planning on going to an extremely fancy restaurant for the night. Besides, Natasha loved her leather jacket and rarely wore it outside of school.

"You're just too cute," Maria told her, pulling Natasha in for a short hug before she could completely slip away. "Have a great night, but be back before morning or the boys will talk."

"Stop it!" Natasha yelled, shoving Maria away from her.

She opened their door, shutting it loudly as Maria laughed behind her. She walked downstairs to find Steve, unsurprised when she saw him talking to Clint. Thankfully, Tony was out for the night with some of his MIT friends, so Natasha and Steve weren't ruthlessly teased all afternoon. Unfortunately, Clint had taken that job upon himself.

"Have fun, kids!" he called as Steve opened the door for Natasha. "But not too much fun."

"Goodbye, Clint," Steve said pointedly, shutting the door behind him.

They walked down to the garage but instead of going toward his car, Steve led Natasha to his motorcycle.

"I figured it would be easier to take around Boston. Besides, it's a nice night." he explained.

"I'm driving," Natasha immediately announced, climbing on the bike before Steve could disagree.

He chuckled and climbed on behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist as she started up the bike and sped out of the parking garage.

* * * * *

Many missed turns and near misses later, they finally pulled up outside the restaurant. The parking lot was full, so Natasha drove down the street to find a good spot to park. She found an empty place about a block away and parked Steve's motorcycle there. As they climbed off, she fixed her hair and checked her pocket for her phone and money. Once she was sure it was still securely in her pocket, she grabbed Steve's hand and walked with him back up the street to the restaurant.

"This is cute," she said as they walked inside.

It was a small place but it was packed full of people. For a moment, she worried the restaurant wouldn't have room for them, then Steve was asking about his reservation and she relaxed.

"Right this way," the hostess said, grabbing two menus and leading them to a table.

They were right next to another couple, but they didn't seem to notice Steve and Natasha join them. The hostess handed them the menus then returned to the front while they looked over the food.

"I've never actually been here," Steve admitted, glancing through the menu. "Sam recommended it, though. Said he and Maria really liked it, so I figured we could try it out."

"They have borscht," Natasha said suddenly, looking up at Steve with a smile. "I love it already."

"I'm glad it lives up to your standards," Steve chuckled. Natasha set aside her menu, already knowing what she wanted, and looked around the restaurant until Steve had figured out what he was going to eat.

* * * * *

Natasha and Steve stayed until the restaurant closed. It was nearing midnight when they finally walked out of the cozy little place but neither of them cared. They could be back at the apartment in fifteen minutes with how short a drive it was; less than that if Natasha drove again. However, as they walked down the street, they didn't see Steve's bike. Natasha frowned as they continued on to the next block, certain they hadn't parked that far away.

"I swear I parked down here," Natasha said, stopping at the end of the second block. There was no way they had parked three blocks away, she was certain of that.

"Let's check again," Steve suggested, eyeing the group of guys ahead and deciding he didn't want to continue forward. If Natasha noticed, she didn't say anything. Instead, they walked all the way back up the street and to the restaurant.

"It's gone," Natasha stated bluntly, staring down the street. The motorcycle was absolutely nowhere in sight.

"How would you even steal a motorcycle?" Steve wondered aloud.

Natasha's hands went to her pockets, feeling around for the keys but not finding them.

"Oh my god, Steve," she gasped, freezing as the realisation hit her.

Steve's hand automatically reached out to make sure she was okay, worried something had happened only for her to look up at him with a horrified expression.

"I left the keys in the bike," she whispered, covering her mouth with one hand. "I'm so sorry, Steve. Oh my god, I can't believe I did that."

"Hey," Steve said, pulling her into his chest as she covered her face in horror. "It's okay, I was in need of a new bike anyway. I can call the police in the morning and report it, it's no big deal."

"I'm so sorry," she groaned, feeling worse and worse as the realisation continued to set in. "How are we gonna get home?"

"We can take the train," Steve assured her, pulling out his phone to map out where the nearest train station was.

A few seconds of searching revealed they were only a ten-minute walk away and the next train to Cambridge left in fifteen minutes.

"If we start walking now, we'll be there in plenty of time. We can talk about it more on the train."

"I'm so, so sorry," Natasha mumbled again, shifting as they began to walk down the street.

Steve's arm remained securely around her shoulders and she kept her arm around his waist. Every now and then, she'd apologise again only for Steve to assure her it was alright. Eventually, she stopped and the walk was quiet.

When they arrived at the station, they had three minutes until the train departed. Steve quickly bought their tickets then they sprinted down to board the train. It was mostly empty and not difficult to find a seat, but the moment they sat down, the doors closed and the train started up.

"Maria's wondering where we're at," Natasha mumbled, looking down at her phone.

Steve glanced at the screen but didn't read the texts.

"We'll be there in about an hour," Steve replied.

While the train ride was only fifteen minutes, the walk from the station to their apartment would take just over half an hour.

Steve had been on the subways and in train stations before, but there was something different about doing it at midnight. The few people in their train car were either drunk, high, or some other kind of suspicious and when they finally arrived in Cambridge, Steve was happy to be leaving.

The streets were quiet and although it had been warm in the afternoon, it was now bitterly cold, a common occurrence in early October, Steve supposed. As they started their long walk, Natasha huddled close beside him in response to both the cold and the leering strangers they passed on the sidewalk. Steve had walked and driven down these streets before, but they were a whole new world after midnight.

"We should have called Clint to pick us up," Natasha said quietly, pressing even closer to Steve as a man across the street whistled loudly.

Steve glared at him as he yelled something crude at her and wrapped his arm around her tighter.

"We're only fifteen minutes away now," Steve guessed.

They'd been making good time, walking faster than he'd thought they would. While he didn't know the exact distance to the apartment, he knew they were getting very close.

"My feet hurt," Natasha grumbled to herself, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk.

Steve stopped beside her, watching as she slipped off her heels and held them in one hand. The cement was cold, but at least her feet were no longer aching.

"Hop on," Steve told her, turning his back to her.

He reached behind his back to grab her and after only a little hesitation, she jumped on his back. Steve made sure he had a solid grip on her before continuing their walk home.

He moved at a faster pace, no longer having to worry about Natasha keeping up as she was on his back. Within nine minutes, they were walking into the apartment complex and heading towards the elevator. As the doors closed, Natasha slipped off Steve's back.

"I really am sorry about your bike," Natasha said, looking up at Steve as they stepped off the elevator.

Steve just pulled her against his side and kissed her temple.

"And I really don't care," he told her softly. "I'll talk to the police in the morning and even if I don't get it back, it won't matter. It wasn't worth much anymore and I needed a new one."

"Still," Natasha said, stopping outside their apartment.

Steve leaned down and kissed her lips softly.

"If you're really sorry, then you'll stop apologising," he teased.

She frowned as he unlocked the door.

"I'm not sure that's how it works," Natasha mumbled, following him into the dark apartment.

Nevertheless, she stopped apologising and when the police did manage to return Steve's bike, he smirked and they left it at that.