brushpass | threads

Natasha chuckles a little at his question, tipping her head so she can shoot him a look that's both fond and mischievous. "You think I spend time with anyone I don't want to?"

"When you put it that way..." He doesn't think Natasha spends time with anyone she doesn't want to, not for fun. Not coming out like this.

She could have said no at any point, but she's still choosing to be here with him.

"Maybe I should just be grateful and not question it."

Natasha leans her head back against the headrest, still smiling a little as he answers her. "You don't have to be grateful. You're very worth my time. Even if you don't realize it yet."

She can hope that one day he will. But she's prepared to hold on to that knowledge herself until he's ready.

"That's where you're wrong. A fella should always be grateful when a woman agrees to go out with him. That's just common sense." Especially when the woman is a knockout, and a redhead.

He always did like redheads.

"Yeah? Is that some of that old fashioned wisdom that people these days don't know about?" It's obvious from her tone that she's just playfully teasing him a bit, in a way that it's flirtatious from an angle.

"I suppose I shouldn't argue with my elders."

"Why don't I think you've ever been good at that." He smiles as he says it; it's not really a question. He's not worried about Natasha not standing up for herself.

"I like the arguing."

"I'm great at pretending," she answers, a hint of hidden laughter in her voice as she says it. When he says he likes the arguing, she gives him a look that seems to say 'obviously.' "I had a hunch."

Glancing down at her phone screen, she can see their destination isn't too far. "We should start looking for parking."

"Roger that." He glances over his shoulder, scanning the street for empty spots. The traffic isn't exactly forgiving, but that's the city for you.

He thinks he spots one a little ahead, if no one snipes it first.

"How much time before our reservation?"

"15 minutes. They let everyone in to sit at the same time, but we can go inside." Thankfully. It's a little too cold to hang out on the sidewalk.

She can see the spot that she's pretty sure he's aiming for up ahead. It looks tight, but it'll be doable.

Bucky is a super soldier. He should be able to parallel park.

Do those things have anything to do with one another? Probably not, really, but he has more than enough experience with tactical driving that it would be embarrassing if he couldn't manage it.

"Fifteen minutes isn't bad. More time to argue."

It only seems fair that he can use it as a reason. Because she'll absolutely tease him with a good job, super soldier if he doesn't get in the spot easily.

"Oh yeah? Got any topics in mind, or should I riff?" She takes a moment to pick her phone up and turn it off as she talks. "Maybe the Dodgers."

"Can't be the Dodgers. They're dead to me." Which kind of doesn't sound like they're a bad topic for an argument when he puts it that way.

He does, in fact, pull into the spot without so much as an adjustment.

He's pretty sure he wouldn't have lived it down if he hadn't.

"Wow, that's a shame. They're my favorite team." The statement was made in that playful, sarcastic tone she uses to make it clear that she's lying. She's never had an opinion on a sports team in her life. She doesn't dislike sports - for example, she's always happy to watch a game or go to a game. It's just not something she spends time on when left to her own devices.

She looks over at him with a smile once he's got the car parked. "Ready?"

"Yeah," he says with half a smile himself, and he means it. Natasha has a way of making this easy. Or, at least easier than it's been on his past when he's tried and failed to flirt with women.

Maybe because he doesn't have to explain why he is the way he is.

"How about you?"

Natasha hums thoughtfully, her eyes on him with a serious face. She lets the moment stretch just long enough to make it seem like she might be thinking about her answer. And then she lets the smile return. "Looking forward to it. Come on, old man. I'll let you open my door just this once."

There is something easy about it, and not just because she likes to flirt. It's rare that she goes out with someone that knows who she really is. He's glad to not have to make an explanation, and she enjoys not having to wear a mask.

"Ha. You never know. You might get used to it." He ducks out of the car and circles around to get her door, offering a hand up. Natasha is perfectly capable of doing all of that without help, but that's not the point.

The point is that he gets to take her hand in the process.

"Careful, you'll get stuck with me if that happens." The warning is delivered lightly as she takes his hand to step out of the car. The old fashioned sensibilities are considerably more charming when the person is legitimately old fashioned.

Once the car door is closed behind them, she shifts her hand to link their fingers so they can cross the street.

"You're real close to figuring out my strategy here," Bucky jokes, doing his best not to sound serious as he says it. He has a hard time not sounding serious in general.

It's not a long walk, but he enjoys it.

"Warm enough?"

Natasha can tell that she's joking. Even if she has a sneaking suspicion that there might be some truth to the strategy.

"Can't complain," she answers, because it's honestly not bad given how harsh winters could be in Russia. "But I won't say no if your arm winds up around my shoulders."

Who is Bucky to say no to an invitation like that? He wets his lips, then flashes half of a smile, a little more certain than before as his arm slips from her hands to around her shoulder.

She fits there comfortably.

"You were saying?"

Once his arm is around her shoulders, she slides her arm around him, hand resting on his back as they walk up to the door of the venue.

"Pretty smooth move you got there," she answers, tipping her head to give him a mischievous little grin.

"Turns out I have a few moves left in me," he says, still ducking his head slightly as they walk. He can't entirely keep from smiling at the comment.

"Maybe rusty, but it doesn't mean they're not moves."

"Nothing wrong with a little rust. I could argue that it adds some charm." It certainly adds authenticity, which goes a long way with her.

She can see through the glass doors that the interior is dimly lit, and it looks like the screens are lit up further into the space. It'll be interesting to see what the art is like in this atmosphere. "What will I have to bribe you with to get you to take a picture with me?"

"I don't know," Bucky plays along, angling a look down at her as though he has to think about it. As though he wouldn't eventually grouse along go along with it. "What are you offering?"

Natasha pretends to consider it as they move inside. There are a few people mulling around in the lobby, with some signs up to point them towards the exhibit.

"I'll let you try my dessert."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject