Bucky whistles softly at the sight Natasha makes when she opens the door, glancing from her boots up to her face, light enough to land somewhere between teasing and flattering. He hopes, anyway. It's not quite as flashy as her New Year's Eve party dress, but he likes it.

The whistle could also be for their destination. If pressed, he might go with that story.

He cleans up pretty well himself, exchanging his leather jacket for a dark peacoat and slacks. "I know where it is," he tells her. "First time I'll be inside, though. Good thing I dressed up."