threads

[brushpass]

Texts, threads, overflow, etc.

Comments

[brushpass]

"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."

[brushpass]

"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."

[brushpass]

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.

[brushpass]

"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.

[brushpass]

"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."

[brushpass]

"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?"

[leftcold]

Bucky pulls out Natasha's chair for her before taking his own seat. He's smiling when he answers. "Yeah, sure," he says, though he has to think back a long way. "Always loved Christmas growing up. Ma making cake. Sisters decorating the house. Sneaking eggnog. It's a great time of year, as long as you have good boots."

[brushpass]

The old fashioned sensibility of his pulling her chair out isn't lost on her, and she gives him a look of fond amusement as she sits. Natasha wouldn't have thought she'd be charmed by someone doing those things, but there's something in the fact that he clearly wants to do it.

And she wants to let him.

"I can picture you sneaking eggnog," she answers with a little chuckle. Sharing her past is never easy, but she knows the same is true for him. Moreover, that it's probably less...challenging to share with him than someone that wouldn't get it. "I got a bike for Christmas, the second year we were on our mission in Ohio. I knew I couldn't keep it. But it was mine while we were there. I rode it everywhere."

[leftcold]

Her story gets a slight, sad smile out of him. He pictures a scrappy, redhead kid who despite everything she'd already been trained for was still just a kid. That girl deserved more Christmases than she got.

"My parents never had a lot extra, but they always made sure we got something, even if it was just a little pocket money and an orange in our stocking."

It wasn't really about the presents. It was about the attitude. And a little about the party.

"You do anything for Christmas this year?"

[brushpass]

"I always liked reading stories where the kids got oranges at Christmas." There's just something sweetly nostalgic about it. That burst of citrus at the height of winter. It's hopeful, in a way. "According to Steve, you were always spending your pocket money as soon as you got it." There's a playful challenge to the way she says it, like she's daring him to try and deny it.

His question about Christmas is met with a nod. "Went to the Bartons for dinner on Christmas Day. Saw Yelena a few days before." Nothing overly involved - she doesn't really have a childhood tradition to carry on, so she mostly just...enjoys enjoying the season. "How about you?"

[leftcold]

"You're not gonna believe everything Steve says, are you?" In that tone Bucky reserves specifically for Steve. The tone that says he knew Steve before he was Captain America, and he was impressed then but he'd never say it. Fondly derisive.

"Not really. I probably could have gotten an invitation somewhere, but..." He shrugs. "Just seems sad to ask."

[brushpass]

"For the purposes of this conversation, yes," Natasha answers with a smirk. She's just as likely to tell Steve 'that doesn't sound like Bucky.' Really, whatever lets her rib both of them is a win in her book.

She gets it. Inviting herself along on someone's Christmas plans would be unthinkable. Even though she can't help but wonder if he did get some invites that he turned down thinking he'd been intruding. "Well, I'll just have to make sure you know you're welcome on my plans next year, then."

[leftcold]

"It's a long way off inviting me now. I'm flattered."

And he is, but he doesn't dwell on it. He doesn't want to make it awkward, or give himself time to feel like the invitation is pity.

"Are you sure Barton is going to be all right with you bringing a plus one?"

[brushpass]

"Figure if I start now you might believe I mean it by the time December rolls around." There's a little bit of a teasing note to the way she says it, light and playful. Just enough to make it clear that she means it, but she's not going to dwell on it. The invitation isn't conditional on anything other than genuinely wanting to make sure he has plans for the holiday.

His question about a plus one does make her chuckle a little. "I was their only babysitter for about ten years. I think they trust my judgment for holiday guests."

[leftcold]

"If you were their only babysitter for ten years, they're probably too grateful to question it." Spoken like someone who did his share of babysitting, once upon a time. He has to believe Barton is grateful.

He also has to believe she's a hell of a good honorary aunt.

"You must like the kids, if you spent that much time with them."

[brushpass]

"I do have unquestionably great judgment." Which is an absolutely falsehood, considering the number of times her plans have involved explosives or throwing herself off of buildings and figuring out a safety net on the way down. But she does make for a great babysitter.

So she just smiles across the table at him, obviously thinking fondly about the Bartons as she does so. "Guess you could say that."

[leftcold]

"You did go out with me. Not sure what that says about your judgment." Either it's bad, or he shouldn't question it. Either way, he figures it's smartest not to say anything too directly.

"If you don't think they'll mind, I'll pencil it in. I just better not get a big brother talk."

[brushpass]

"Best to just trust my judgment," Natasha answers, still amused. She knows that there's a good chance that he's not ready to hear a real, direct compliment. Or even think of himself in a positive light. She doesn't mind coming at it from an angle.

And she can't help but chuckle when he says he better not get a big brother talk. "Nah. The Bartons aren't the ones you have to look out for if you cross me. And you already know that."