The hangar was finally theirs. The last of the music had faded out, and the only light left was the warm, low glow from the strings of bulbs draped from the rafters. You took a deep breath, the air finally cool against your skin, and felt the weight of your heels clicking against the concrete as you walked toward the center of the floor.
"My feet are officially done," you said, reaching back to fumble with the zipper of your dress.
Between the dancing and Alexei’s bone-crushing hugs, you felt like you’d been through a training circuit. "I think I’m going to have to live in this dress forever because this lace won't budge."
Yelena was leaning against a supply crate, looking effortlessly sharp in her white wedding suit. She’d ditched the blazer hours ago, and her silk shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, her sleeves rolled up to show the strength in her arms. She didn't have a scratch on her, but she looked more satisfied than she ever did after a mission.
"You look beautiful in it, but I think forever is a bit long," she murmured, her voice dropping into that low, gravelly tone that always made your heart race.
She stood up and walked toward you, her bare feet silent on the floor. She didn't move like a soldier right then; she moved like someone who finally had exactly what she wanted. She stepped behind you, her fingers cool and steady as they brushed your neck, easily catching the zipper that you’d been struggling with.
"You did great today, Lena," you whispered, closing your eyes as the tension in the dress finally gave way. "I know being the center of attention isn't your favorite 'mission' profile."
"For you, I can play the part," she said, her voice vibrating against your back.
She didn't pull away once the dress was loosened. Instead, she slid her hands around your waist, pulling you back against the crisp silk of her shirt.
She rested her chin on your shoulder, your eyes meeting in the reflection of the dark glass nearby.
"But I have been waiting all night to get you away from them. Alexei, Walker... even Ava. I was tired of sharing."
You turned in her arms, your silk skirts rustling around your ankles as you hooked your arms around her neck.
"Well, the sharing is over. No more toasts, no more speeches. Just the honeymoon. Our honeymoon..."
Yelena’s gaze darkened, her hands sliding down to the small of your back to press you firmly against her.
The intensity in her eyes was raw and honest, stripping away the "Widow" until it was just her.
"Good," she breathed. She reached up, her fingers hooking into the delicate lace at your collar, tugging just enough to make you look up at her. "Because I spent all day watching people look at my wife in this dress. Now, I am going to be the one to take it off you. And I am going to take my time."
"Is that an order, Agent Belova?" you whispered, a small, daring smirk playing on your lips.
"It is a promise," she whispered, before leaning in and reclaiming your lips with a hunger that made it clear the rest of the world no longer existed.