"Is it culturally appropriate to hold hands in France?" he asks like the clueless America mechanic that his character is supposed to be but reaches for Natasha's hand anyways, happy to take a hold of it and let her lead him towards the square.

"Yes, it wouldn't be a really great bakery if it wasn't able to be smelled from a couple blocks away am I right?" he asks, his eyes are darting wildly around the street though, checking each and every person, each doorway, taking it all in. It's a lot, but he feels slightly better knowing that Natasha is here, she's helping, and if anything where to happen she'd be there to help him with it as well.


Thinking of the bakery his mind blurs a little bit to a hotel in Germany, Natasha ordering waffles that were the size of his head as room service. She ate them completely naked and teased him mercilessly for being distracted by her naked over the waffles with the fluffy butter and the syrup.

"Do you remember Dusseldorf?"