brushpass | threads

"You don't lose many arguments, do you?" Bucky says, mock rueful as he finishes his glass and sets it down with a clack. He can't help but return her smile, though.

"Which is as close as I'm going to get to admitting you're right, by the way."

"Only when I want to." There's a hint of laughter in the way that she says it, because - of course she loses arguments now and then. Especially with her sister. But pretending that she only ever loses on purpose better fits the way that people tend to think of her. She's pretty sure he knows her well enough to see the joke in it.

"I'll take it. Want to try that game of darts?"

He does see the joke. He also knows himself well enough to know that she'd almost certainly be able to beat him, especially in the only half-serious, half-flirting arguments he's likely to actually start with her.

If it were something serious—making sure she takes care of herself—he might be more inclined to hold his ground.

"Why not?" he says, his gaze traveling to the board. "Seems like it should be pretty well matched."

Those particular arguments about taking care of herself, especially after a fight, do have a tendency to get...entrenched. She has an unsettling capacity for pain management that leads her to prioritize other people's injuries.

With any luck, that won't be on the menu tonight.

"Don't forget that I'm planning to fight dirty," she cautions him with a grin as she leans away from the bar to lead them over to the dart board.

"Which you're warning me about," he points out as he approaches the dartboard, pulling the darts out of the cork. "That's awful good sportsmanship."

"Maybe I'm trying to lure you into a false sense of security," she answers, smiling a little as she watches him take the darts out. "You want to go first or second?"

"Second," decisively. "I want to know what I'm up against."

Somehow, he doubts it'll be that that simple, but it's a place to start. And it does put the pressure on her to start strong.

"What if I throw my first round to keep you on your toes?" she asks with a grin as she takes the darts from him.

Taking a few steps backward toward the board, she continues. "Did we decide if we were going to bet on the outcome of this?"

"We haven't decided what we're going to bet." By which he means they should make one. Bucky can't seem to pass up placing bets against her.

Maybe because he's not afraid of losing.

"And if you think you're going to get me to underestimate you, you're gonna have another thing coming."

Natasha figures that - when it's not something serious - the key to a good bet is that the outcome is fun for both the people making the bet. "What are you thinking?" she asks, a hint of a playful challenge in her voice. Like she's daring him to make the first ante.

"Maybe the real ploy isn't getting you to underestimate me."

"If you plan on getting me to overthink this, I've got some bad news for you..."

He responds to that first, buying himself a little time to consider the bet.He flashes her a smile.

"Say the loser has to drive the winner around for a day. Chauffeur service."

"You're already overthinking it?" she suggests, smiling as she lightly teases him. She can see the way that he's mulling over the details of their bet.

What he settles on causes her to arch her brow in interest. It doesn't escape her attention that means spending more time together. "Good idea. Should we shake on it?"

"That might be the more flattering explanation."

The alternative is that he's not thinking at all.

Encouraged, he offers his hand. This seems encouraging, at least. A pretty good indication she's all right with the direction this is going.

Her eyes stay on him, quiet for a moment, and then her smile widens a bit as she catches the meaning behind what he's saying. At least she doesn't call him on it. Yet.

Regardless, she moves closer so she can give his hand a shake. "Looks like we have ourselves a deal."

Which means she then turns and takes a step back to the line, launching the first dart with a fluid grace. It sticks in the board dangerously close to the bullseye.

If he was expecting an easy game, he wouldn't have let himself get talked into playing against a Black Widow. He whistles softly, genuinely impressed if not surprised.

"So not going easy on me, then."

"If you wanted someone to go easy on you, you wouldn't be on a date with me."

She glances over her shoulder at him to flash him a smirk. It's definitely something that she understands. And not only because it can be hard to relate to people that haven't done the kind of work they both do. There's a...thrilling sort of novelty to people that can challenge her.

Turning back, she launches her last two darts. The three of them form a triangle around the bullseye.

"Showing off, Romanoff?" He chuckles as he walks to the door. Their game draws a few curious glances, but nothing intrusive. People here know how to mind their own business.

He pulls the darts out of the board and saunters back.

There are a lot of reasons to want to date Natasha. The fact she's not afraid of him and can hold her own is one.

But he's not going easy on her, the first throw hitting the bullseye.

Neither of them might be Hawkeye, but they also don't miss their targets.

"Why, are you impressed?" Her tone makes it clear that she's continuing that same banter, playfully teasing. She moves back to take his previous place as he goes to get the darts out of the board.

Her arms are folded loosely as she watches, and she lets out a laugh when he hits the bullseye. "Who's showing off now?"

It's quiet for a moment, and she waits until he's lining up for his second shot to speak again. "Hope you don't mind if I enjoy the view while I'm back here." A hint of mischief creeps back into her voice as she says it, making the flirtation obvious. And also the fact that she meant it when she said she was going to play dirty.

Bucky glances back at Natasha as he lines up his shot and the dart slips from his fingers, hitting higher and to the right of the first one—just inside the ring for the bullseye, but less solid.

"Just what do you think you're going to be looking at?"

He's not surprised, but somehow that doesn't make it ineffective.

She's good at flirting.

The glance he gives her is quick, but her smirk is unmistakable. Her eyes follow the dart when it just makes the bullseye. Honestly, she's prepared to call that a win for distraction techniques.

Even so, she's presently surprised when he encourages it further. "I was going to start with your shoulders, but I'll take suggestions."

"You know I don't usually see things from that angle, right?" He swallows, fixing his attention on the dartboard again. He's pretty determined not to give her the satisfaction of distracting him again.

At least not that easily.

The third dart leaves his hand.

"True," she agrees, giving her answer a moment's thought. Even though she does enjoy trying to make him blush, she doesn't want to make him wildly uncomfortable. It's a fine line. And she does trust that he'll tell her if she goes too far. So.

As he throws the dart, she continues, "figured that would be more polite than suggesting I look at your ass."

He expected it this time. Even so, when she comments, he still tenses a little. Maybe because he's old fashioned, or maybe because it's been a very long time since anyone noticed his ass.

The dart hits the board with a solid thunk, slightly off center.

"How long are you going to be able to keep that up?"

"What, like it's a chore?" she asks with a chuckle. He's not exactly hard on the eyes from any angle. But she can also tell that she's likely approaching that outside limit of what he's comfortable with.

As she moves up so she can get the darts from the board, she brushes his arm with her hand. "I'll behave."

"You always do." He bumps her shoulder lightly as she passes, doing his best to signal he's okay. And he appreciates the concern, because she's not wrong about being out of his depth.

Though he's pretty sure most men would be out of their depth with Natasha.

"Looks like we're tied."

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