brushpass | threads

"Can't argue that point, considering that's why I like dive bars," Natasha admits. He's clearly delighted by both his preferred diner and the butter, and she's prepared to consider that a sign that he's relaxing. "I do like pie, but I don't know that I could do a milkshake and a slice of pie at once. Although there was a thing for a while where people were blending a slice of pie into a vanilla milkshake for flavor."

"I don't think that's really a thing," he says. It's not serious disbelief, but he still protests. "The crust would get weird."

He licks his lips and shrugs though, when he allows, "A blueberry or peach milkshake sounds pretty good though. Not gonna lie. If we're going to get out of the traditional milkshake flavors, I think I could learn to like that."

"I think they blended it out so you just got the crust flavor but not really pieces of crust. The more we talk about it, the more I want to try it," she muses, shooting him an amused look.

Their waiter returns, rather abruptly, and sort of...rushes through his intro for the evening. It's a fixed menu, but if they have any dietary needs, they can meet them. With a faintly entertained expression on her face, Natasha says she's fine with anything. After he gets Bucky's answer, he turns to leave, then turns back and says 'drinks?' "Well, I'd love a moscow mule," she answers, eyes on the waiter.

Bucky shakes his head. The idea of a super soldier with allergies or a gluten intolerance is foreign enough that he gives an incredulous look. He's good.

The order for Natasha's drink gets a little smile out of him.

"Scotch," he says. "On the rocks."

He's less cute with his order. But it suits her.

"I think he's afraid of you," he says after the server leaves.

"Who, me?" Natasha makes the joke automatically, her eyes still on the waiter for a moment as he retreats. But her gaze finally shifts back to Bucky and her mouth curls in a little smirk. "I made a point of looking harmless tonight too."

She takes another bite of her bread before continuing. "Should we bet on what he does if I ask if he recognizes one of us?"

"Natasha, don't take this the wrong way but you'd look dangerous no matter what you're wearing." He means it as a compliment more than anything. A beautiful woman is always dangerous, isn't she?

"And you're proving it, because I think you might give him a heart attack if you try that one."

"Is it weird that I'm taking that as a compliment?" she asks, a look of mingled self deprecation and entertainment on her face. They're clearly on the same wavelength about that one.

"He won't have a heart attack. Might drop something, though," she muses, as if she's weighing the pros and cons. "Wouldn't it be better to find out before we both start worrying about whether he's going to poison our entrees?"

"Hey, I'm not going to try to stop you. Just saying a little sympathy for a guy clearly in over his head." Bucky takes a drink of his water and reaches for more bread.

Natasha was right about the bread.

"Work the thing about poison into the conversation if you want. Figure that will make him turn green."

"What was that about sympathy for the guy?" Natasha banters back at him easily, clearly entertained by the idea of slipping the poison mention into the conversation with their server.

Poor guy really is in over his head.

"I'm on his side, but a guy's gotta admit when something's funny." And Natasha bullying someone else is, in his biased opinion, pretty funny.

"Maybe it'll get us some more rolls."

"I'm pretty sure you can get more rolls if you ask nicely." There's a hint of fond amusement in her voice as she says it. But then her eyes shift and she spots the waiter clearly coming back their way, and when she looks back at Bucky for a moment there's undeniably a hint of mischief there.

The waiter comes up to their table to set down their drinks as she asks conversationally, "so which one of us did you recognize?"

It's clearly not what he's expecting to hear.

Bucky leans back, putting on a grim face. Not a Winter Soldier face—that would have blank—but more of a disapproving big brother face, brows heavy and jaw tense.

He lays his arm across the back of his chair.

The waiter sputters that he doesn't know what they're talking about. Is everything okay? Can he freshen their water?

"The lady asked you a question."

Bucky's grim faced posture definitely seems to have put the waiter on edge. It certainly doesn't help that when he looks over at Natasha, she offers him a smile sweet enough to be poisonous.

"Shit, I know who you both are, okay? I used to run with a gang and I got some family still in the game but I don't do that shit anymore. This is a legitimate job. I really like the food."

Well. He's clearly sincere. And just about ready to cut and run, despite that last sentence. Natasha arches a brow and looks over at Bucky, then lifts one shoulder in a shrug. As if to say eh, I'm fine with him if you are.

Bucky shrugs one shoulder, not quite rolling his eyes. The idea that some kid who'd done a little street crime warranted the attention of an Avenger was a little silly. It did make him wonder if the waiter's involvement was a little more than he let on.

Or if he was just a little paranoid. Can't fault that.

"The bread is good. Bring us another basket and don't cause trouble, and I think we can all enjoy a nice night."

The way Natasha sees it, if he's still got family in the game, there's a good possibility one of them have killed off members of his family over the years. Probably a slightly higher chance that it was her, given how much Dreykov enjoyed spying on and eliminating anyone he viewed as 'competition.' Still. He doesn't seem like he's holding a grudge.

And she can't help but chuckle a little at the tension she can see draining from the waiter's shoulders as he carefully sets their drinks down and promises to return with more bread.

"Better hope he's really cleaned up his act or he's going to be telling everyone you can be bought off with freshly baked bread."

"How do you know that's not my whole plan," Bucky jokes, relaxing his posture and leaning closer over the table. Mock conspiratorial, he adds, "I can get every crime boss in town turning up at my door with rustic Italian loaves. Maybe butter too, if I'm lucky."

Natasha leans in on her side of the table as well, her eyes alight with humor. It's a treat to see him joking around like this - he's clearly relaxing a bit.

"Wow. That's diabolical," she answers, all playful humor. "I'll keep you in butter if you promise to share." There's a flirtatious hue in the way she says it, even though she recognizes that it's patently ridiculous to flirt about butter.

The thing about flirting is that sometimes, done right, it's a little ridiculous. The fun part is that they're being ridiculous together.

Or something like that.

"I won't ask where you're getting all of that butter," Bucky says, half smiling. "Or what you were planning to do with it."

Natasha would vouch for that. And certainly the opportunity to see him leaning in to the opportunity to be ridiculous is encouraging. Maybe even more encouraging than getting him to blush.

"You sure? I could have some fun ideas," she answers, giving him a wicked grin as she picks up the cup to take a sip of the drink she'd ordered.

"Oh, I'm sure you could."

Bucky doesn't blush at that, but he does swallow, his throat bobbing as he tries not to think too much about the specifics of what she could cook up. Not for the butter, really. For anything.

"I'm sure you could give me gray hair with your fun ideas."

"Don't worry, it's only fun if you want to participate." Meaning: sure, she might tease him a little bit. But she's not going to outright torture the man.

Though to be fair, she's not sure if the vague allusion to fun things she could do is any better. It certainly leaves a lot of space for him to color in his own details.

"Didn't say I didn't want to. I just know better than to ask questions."

It is fun. Bucky is, in fact, having fun. Natasha seems to have a way of inspiring him to let his guard down just a little.

Not all the way. He wasn't sure he could even do that anymore... but enough to play around a little.

"On the bright side, I don't think we're going to see any photographers when we leave."

A partially lowered guard is a win, as far as she's concerned. Honestly, the fact that either of them can relax at all could be considered something of a miracle.

"We could still sneak out the back," she offers, smiling a little at the suggestion. There's really no need for it, but she's not above doing something a bit ridiculous. Especially if it'll help keep that guard of his down a bit. "I'm just impressed I got you to take a picture with me by the exhibits."

"We can see how we feel about that after dessert." Bucky can't help but smile a little at the suggestion. Maybe the image it makes.

Like the adult, spy equivalent of sneaking into a movie, something like that.

"Or maybe we just slip up to the roof for the fun of it."

"Implying that if dessert isn't great that we'll make a break for it?" Which is still patently ridiculous, but honestly, she's still not opposed. They could both stand to add some more good memories.

There's an interested look on her face when he suggests sneaking up to the roof for the fun of it. Rebel. "Bet there's a decent view of the neighborhood from up there," she muses, smiling a little in a way that looks mischievous. "Could be fun to see if either of us get spotted."

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Sorry for the delay! It's been a rough couple of weeks.

oh no! don't worry about it. i hope things ease up for you <3