brushpass | threads

"We won't have to if you just let me pay," he says then, not trying to play cool anymore and somehow doing a better job seeming at ease, if not necessarily cool. "I asked you out. I'd never ask a girl out if I weren't planning to pay for her."

"I could argue though that I invited you to this specific dive bar," she points out as she slips her jacket back on. By her tone, its easy to tell that her counterpoint is lighthearted. This isn't a sticking point for her so much as her making sure he knows she doesn't expect him to be footing every bill. He does seem more comfortable now, and she's glad to see it.

"You're not exactly breaking the bank here, you know." That's one of the points of visiting a dive bar. It also sidesteps her reassurance, avoiding reacting to it directly.

He pulls out his wallet and throws some bills on the bar, which he considers the correct way to pay for anything.

The way he sidesteps it is smooth enough that she finds it charming, watching him with an expression that has just a hint of fondness to it. Throwing bills on the bar is evidently the right way to pay in this establishment at least, as the bartender just gives him a curt up nod of acknowledgement.

Natasha takes his arm as they turn to leave, and leans up to press a kiss on his cheek. "Well, thanks for the drink, then."

Bucky leans into the kiss, stooping just slightly to make the reach a little easier on her. It's a simple gesture but still one that sends a soft warmth through him in a way he hasn't felt in years.

Then he escorts her out of the bar and back onto the sidewalk.

"You know, you're really something else."

It's not a compliment she's expecting, and she can't help but laugh a little. Typically, she's hearing that in a much different tone.

The cold air is refreshing after the warm, still air in the bar, and she gives his arm a squeeze of acknowledgment as they walk down the sidewalk. When she answers, her tone is low and amused. "Yeah? What I am?"

"Not entirely sure, yet," he admits, touching her hand lightly as they walk as though to assure her that's not a bad thing. "You're strong, but you're also funny. And you're kinder than anyone can ask you to be."

As evidence, the fact she's hanging out with a guy like him.

"It's a puzzle, I guess. Looking forward to finding out, though."

Well, that's certainly something. Natasha is a lot of things, and chief among them - comfortable in her skin. Some aspects of her are either to see than others. She's relentless, intelligent, and ruthless when the situation calls for it. Those other things, like her humor and her kindness, tend to be harder for people to discover. And more to the point, they're typically not the aspects of her that most people are interested in.

So it means a lot that those are the things he chooses to reference.

Her head tips so she can look up at him with a smile. "Careful, Barnes, I'm going to have to kiss you if you go around saying things like that."

"All part of my devious plan," he jokes, turning just a little pink under her gaze. "Though maybe working a little too well. Wasn't going to hope for that until I dropped you off this evening."

He wasn't about to hope for more than that tonight, and that she'd do this again. Do more than this again, and he seems to be doing pretty well on that too.

The corner of her smile twitches just a bit, enough to make it clear that she's noticed that hint of pink on his cheeks. They're going to have to work on his self esteem at some point, given that he's obviously doing much better than he thinks he is.

"There's a reason to look forward to being dropped off," she answers as they reach the car.

"Not too soon, though. We still have all evening ahead of us." He gets the door for her, giving her a hand down like a gentleman.

It feels dated and certainly doesn't make him feel like he's doing better, but he can't shake the feeling it's the right thing to do.

"Don't worry about that, I set my own curfew." She throws him a quick, mischievous look as she takes his hand so she can slide into the passenger side of the car. It is extremely old fashioned, but there's something nice about the simplicity of the gesture.

As he climbs into the driver's seat, she's pulling the GPS back up on her phone so she can set it up in the cup holder to give him directions again.

"Oh, I'm sure," he says as he closes the door for her. He can't imagine anyone telling Natasha when she can or cannot come and go.

He settles into the driver's seat and pulls into traffic easily, glancing at her phone, then up at the road.

"So where to now, navigator?"

"Hall des Lumières," she answers. Natasha hasn't been herself, but she remembers other people talking about it. The gorgeous architecture and the immersive artscapes projected larger than life. It'll be interesting to see it at night, in a dinner setting.

"I'm looking forward to seeing what will be on the menu tonight." An easy, idle comment. She's not sure how often either of them have the opportunity for small talk. Its a nice change of pace.

It's like using a muscle that he hasn't been allowed to move in too long, the skill atrophied. At the same time, as awkward and weak as Bucky feels, it's also nice to do it again.

"Anything you're hoping for?" It's not exactly a strong gambit, but it's still something. "I figure they're not going to have hotdogs."

"Been a while since I've had French cuisine," she muses thoughtfully. Glancing over at him, the corner of her mouth tugs up in a smile. "They might, though. Korean corn dogs have been a fad lately. They're elevated hot dogs."

Everything she's heard about this dinner club sounds like they do a fairly good job. But it can't hurt to have a back up plan. "Tell you what, though. If the food sucks we can sneak out and get hot dogs."

"Always good to have a back up," he says, echoing her thoughts. "I'm sure it'll be fine though. Better than fine. Pretty sure it's impossible to have a bad meal if you're out with the right person."

Bucky doesn't dare look at her as he says that, eyes fixed on the road in front of them.

One of her brows arches, and she studies the side of his face as he stares out the windshield with absolute determination. Which somehow just makes the sentiment sweeter. Maybe a little sad, too, that he clearly thinks there's still a possibility she might just suddenly decide going out with him was a mistake and jump out of the car.

"Getting sappy on me, huh?" she asks, low and warm. "You're right, though. So what are you nervous about?"

"Sappy isn't what I was hoping for, but kind of comes out that way, doesn't it?" The corner of his mouth twitches a little, flashing a brief, self-deprecating smile.

"I don't know that nervous is the word I'd use either. Just seems like a lot of things have changed since the last time I took a girl out. It used to be simple."

"I'm just teasing you. It was a good line." Her tone makes it clear that she's being genuine. Even if she can't help but grin a little as she takes in that quick self-deprecating smile.

She shifts in her seat a bit, watching him for a moment before she looks out the windshield. "I don't know. Drinks, dinner, and a kiss at the door when you drop me off. Still seems pretty simple."

"Yeah, but getting there? It's all dating apps and... I don't even know what people do anymore. You're doing me a favor, you know, letting me skip that part." He's looked at that part. Studied it the way he'd case a building with a target inside.

It's baffling.

"And you don't have to impress the dads anymore. Used to be I was good at impressing dads."

"Depends on where you look and what you're looking for. Apps are a nightmare unless you want something...very casual." The phrasing is carefully chosen, though non-judgmental. For a good portion of her life, very casual was pretty much the only thing that worked for her. It can still be hard to let herself be vulnerable with others.

And she can't help but laugh a little at his comment about dads. "Well, I've got good news and bad news on that front."

"Yeah?" That gets her a curious glance because he wasn't expecting a reaction to his offhand joke.

"What's the bad news?"

"Alexei will absolutely hound you until you agree to arm wrestle him."

There's no doubt in her mind about that one. There's even a strong possibility that he'll want to wrestle both right and left handed.

"Alexei?"

Bucky's known a few Alexei's in his time, and none of them are clicking in the context.

"Okay, what's the good news?"

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