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[brushpass]

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.

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"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."

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"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?"

[leftcold]

"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?"

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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."

[leftcold]

Humming for show, Bucky squeezes her shoulders slightly. "Guess for a bite of your dessert, I might be able to make the sacrifice."

He'd have done it anyway.How's he supposed to say no to someone who actually cares enough to ask.

"If it's chocolate."

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"Not even going to try to barter for two bites? People are going to think you're going soft." She cautions him playfully with a quiet chuckle, her hand rubbing his back between his shoulder blades. "Is there any other kind of dessert worth trying?"

There's a beat as they meander in the direction of the exhibits. She amends, "cheesecake."

[leftcold]

"I can take a pretty big bite." He huffs, mock defensive. "And it's not about whether it's worth trying, it's about if it's worth letting you have photographic evidence."

He pauses a beat, then adds, "With cherries?"

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Natasha lets out a snort of laughter at his feigned defensive response, because she can vividly picture him chomping half of a slice of cake in one bite. "Don't worry, the evidence is just for me."

Lifting a free hand, she indicates one of the exhibit rooms coming up that doesn't seem to have many people inside. "I like strawberry better. But I wouldn't turn down cherry."

[leftcold]

"I could be convinced to have strawberry." A very serious negotiation. It's been a while since Bucky just got to be unserious. He got a little of it, maybe, with Sam's nephews. Kids were easier than adults, in a lot of ways.

"Don't suppose they have milkshakes, huh?"

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"And we didn't even have to bicker about raspberry first," she answers with a grin. It's nice to see that he can let himself joke around. Might have to accuse him of relaxing by the end of the night.

"Could be. If not, I'm not opposed to finding a diner after. As long as it's not past your bed time." There's a hint of teasing humor in her voice as she says it.

Coming to a stop in the first room, she watches one of the screens, smiling. The projected image is a field of sunflowers, waving gently in a breeze. It slowly shifts into a swirling and sparkling sea of constellations. "This is pretty cool."

[leftcold]

"Ah, there's the jokes at the old man's expense." He glances down at her face, taking in the humor, the way she looks when she smiles. It takes a beat before he can pull his attention away and turn it on the screen.

What he sees there earns a slight puckering of his forehead. He rolls his lip between his teeth thoughtfully.

It's pleasant. Peaceful, even. Probably not a bad accompaniment for a meal.

"Is this really art?"

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"If you ever start wearing suspenders, it's all over," she answers, with a note of playful warning. She's confident that no one will be able to resist snapping them.

At his question, she hums thoughtfully. "What is art?" The way she asks makes it clear that she doesn't expect an answer. "If it's beautiful, or makes you feel something, or think about things in a different way, then yeah. I think it's art." Turning, she looks up at him with a smile. "Ready for your close up?"

[leftcold]

"Not going to give me a chance to get out of this, huh? Might as well get it over with."

He huffs, pretending to be more long suffering than he is.

"Then you can tell me if your selfie is art."

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"Nope," she agrees, trying to hide a smile. Like she's not aware that he's putting on the suffering act. She pulls out her phone and turns it on, navigating to the camera when she speaks again. "Your jawline alone might qualify."

Sorry, Bucky. Sometimes she can't help but take an opportunity to flirt when it comes up.

Once the camera app is open, she stretches out her arm and holds her phone up. Her other arm stays around his back as she tips her head in towards his shoulder. "Say cheese."

[leftcold]

He doesn't say cheese, but her joking compliment gets a smile out of him this time. A little self-deprecating, but less flustered than before. It's a genuine smile.

He leans a little closer to her, making it easier to fit them both in the picture.

"There. Satisfied?" He pauses then nudges her shoulder. "And I expect a copy."

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She doesn't say cheese either, but she's also smiling in a way that's obviously genuine. Bringing the phone back in, she swipes her finger across the screen to pull the picture up. It looks remarkably normal, even with the swirl of galaxies projected behind them. There's something to be said for normal.

"Very," she answers, bumping her shoulder lightly back against him. Her tone is light and teasing as she continues, "you want me to print one out for you?" Which she absolutely will. Even if he says no.

[leftcold]

"Don't people usually just text those things now?"

The galaxy is actually pretty neat in that context. A little silly, but dates are allowed to be. If they weren't he wouldn't have taken so many girls to the boardwalk back in his youth.

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"They do. Wasn't sure how up on technology you are."

It's pretty clear that she's just giving him shit, considering the fact that she has not only texted him, but has also sent him a picture before. There's a deceptively innocent look on her face.

[leftcold]

"I'm old. I'm not dead." And he hasn't been on ice in years. "Besides, Wakanda has technology that makes New York City seem like it's still stuck in the '40s."

He says it warmly, grateful to the country that harbored him while he was still a fugitive and gave him his life back.

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"Wakanda is more than a little impressive," Natasha agrees, because there's really no point in denying it. The cloaking technology coupled with the massive shield? She'd been extraordinarily tempted to hide out there herself after she broke the accords.

"Anything else you want to look at before we go find our table?"

[leftcold]

"We can sit down. Looking forward to seeing the menu." He flashes her a smile playful smile. "Maybe get a real drink. I wouldn't mind looking around a little more after we eat though. See what other things they have hanging around."

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"Are you implying that dive bar swill doesn't count as a real drink?" It's clear that her outrage is only feigned, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes as she looks at him. "Offensive, but still a good plan."

There are signs placed out that lead them back to the room that's been transformed into the dining space for the evening. Light projections decorate the walls in there as well, though static. The one up as they enter looks like panes of stained glass.

[leftcold]

Bucky does pause to take in the lights, glancing around the room for the overall effect. Very intentionally he tries to ignore the distraction it makes, how it could cover for an assault at first. He still marks every entrance and exit, everything that could become an improvised weapon, but some habits can only be broken so far.

"Nice. A little weird, but nice." The color does give things a sort of fanciful air. "Kind of reminds me of Christmas."

It's just a pause on the route to take their seats.

[brushpass]

Natasha's pretty sure they can both be excused for a bit of paranoia. He's not the only one that's making a quick assessment of their surroundings. And even dressed up, she still has weapons on her.

She hums a note of agreement, shifting her hand to rest at the crook of his arm as the host comes over to lead them to their table. Their places are set, but there's no menu out - she assumes as some nod towards the secrecy of the evening. So instead, she looks over at him with a smile. "Got a favorite Christmas memory?"