"Having a nice dinner," Natasha answers cheekily without missing a beat, her little smile shifting into something that looks more like a smirk. She doesn't mind that grimness. It would be more surprising if it wasn't there. She's so practiced at blending in that she doesn't tend to carry the same grimness. But someone that knows what to look for would doubtlessly realize that, even relaxed, she's always alert. And always armed.
But that doesn't mean they both don't deserve a night off. So she leans back in her seat a bit, eyes widening a little in a feigned look of innocence. "But if you're worried you might not be up for it, old man..." she lets the obvious bait trail off, mouth pulling to the side as she tries not to laugh.
"Very funny," Bucky rises to the bait, knowing it exactly for what it is. That's part of the fun, how he sees it. Especially with a woman like Natasha.
Keeps him on his toes.
"I think I have enough energy to have a nice dinner," he assures her, then flashing a wryer smile as he adds, "But I might have to turn in early if I'm going to go play dominos in the park tomorrow with the other old men."
Natasha makes a little flourish with her hand as if to acknowledge that yes, she knows it was very funny. She then picks up her drink to take a sip, her eyes glimmering with amusement as she looks across the table at him.
"We can't have you disappointing Walter and Cecil. They'll never let you live it down if you tell them you let a red head keep you out past your bedtime."
That gets a laugh out of him, and something like color in his cheeks. "When you put it that way, I'm not sure how I could show my face if I didn't let you keep me up past my bedtime. They'd be very disappointed."
"You're going to be the talk of the park with that," Natasha answers with a chuckle. The smile lingers on her lips as his face pinkens a little. "I promise I'll let you go if you start yawning."
"Hey. I'm old. I'm not tired," he responds gamely, even with the faint blush still lingering in his ears. "I stay up past 9pm regularly. On week nights even."
"Wow, you're a real rebel." The mischievous gleam that lingers in her eyes is the only tell that she's still lightly ribbing him. She lets a bit of the playfulness fade so she can ask, with genuine curiosity, "what do you usually do when you're up late? That's usually the only time I can focus to read."
"Depends. Reading's good. Definitely one of the better evening activities." And probably a sign he's in a good headspace, if he can focus. A sign he might get a good night's sleep. "Sometimes, it's Sports Center."
Neutral sounding, but more likely to be something he has on just for noise, something to focus on so he doesn't start getting twitchy.
"Not a bad time to take a walk, either. Especially in a city like this."
She can understand that need for background noise. Sometimes she'll put on an old movie, but she's more likely to keep music playing in the background. "Read anything good lately?" It feels like a remarkably mild question, given the kind of shit both of them regularly get involved in. But there's something nice about a remarkably mild question.
She smiles a little when he says he likes to take a walk at night. "Nice when it's snowing, too." It sort of brings a hush over the city that never really happens otherwise.
"Well, I have most of a century worth of books to catch up on. I don't think I have any recommendations more recent than the Lord of the Rings." It's a weird thing, going to war after reading the Hobbit, a cute children's fantasy about a little guy who goes on an adventure. Come back and find out the story goes into the horrors of war.
"I hope you're not going to try to go in order of release," Natasha comments with a chuckle. Even if she suspects that might actually be the case. She hums thoughtfully, considering her recommendation based on the fact that both Le Guin and Tolkien lean decidedly fantasy.
"Definitely get through the Chronicles of Narnia if you haven't. And I haven't read all of them, but I think you'd like the Discworld series by Terry Pratchett. I'd say they're sort of comedic fantasy. They're very clever."
He's only half kidding. He doesn't intend to read every book he might be interested in in order of publication, but... well, it gives him a place to start when he's trying to sort through the things he missed.
"I could use a few more laughs. I'll keep him in mind."
"We could start a book club." She's also only half kidding, but she's not opposed to the idea. Having someone to talk to about the books is nice. Having someone to sit around while you both read quietly is even nicer. And she's pretty sure that's more along the lines of what he'd consider a good time.
"There's enough of them to keep you busy for a while. Over thirty of them."
"That'll take me the rest of this century with how much free time I get these days."
It's a joke, but one he figures she'll understand. There's always something. Even when they're trying to get some rest (or legally required to), they always get dragged into something.
The down side of not being able to look the other way when things go to shit. Steve must have rubbed off on Bucky all those years ago.
"But having someone to read with wouldn't be the worst."
There really is always something. And often one something after another. "Maybe I'll introduce you to e-books so you can read on the road." Natasha doesn't actually use e-books herself all that often. She's really mostly saying it because she's pretty sure that his reaction is going to be entertaining.
"Could be fun," she agrees with a little smile. "I'll have to invite you over sometime soon."
"If I knew it would get me an invitation, I might have brought it up sooner—"
Bucky is about to say more, but he's spared having to figure out what he intends to say next when the waiter reappears. He slips in with their first course, setting plates in front of Natasha first, then Bucky as he leans back to make room.
He glances up at their server, watching the young man pale, then nods and mutters a thanks to send him scurrying off.
Natasha's eyes lift to watch the waiter, and she glances back at Bucky when he pales. Her mouth pulls to the side as she holds back a laugh, and instead orders a second round of drinks before the waiter makes his exit.
She has to agree - the roast on her plate looks perfectly done, there's a vegetable medley with some kind of glaze drizzled on it, and mashed potatoes sprinkled with chives. "It really does," she agrees as she picks up her fork and brings it to the roast, finding that it's tender enough to take a piece without a knife. "By the way, if I knew you were waiting for an invitation, I would have made one a lot sooner."
"We're off to a good start. I can identify everything on this plate." No foams. No mysterious smears or purees. No strange surprises.
Not that he would have actually been scared away if there'd been a carrot froth, but he's willing to make fun of both himself, and nonsensical fancy food.
He shrugs off the second part though.
"Not exactly waiting for it, but I don't want to invite myself over either. Just waiting for the right time."
"What, you thought I'd lead you astray?" Her tone is amused as she asks, as if in recognition that...yeah, she'd absolutely lead him astray. But only if it would be something they'd both find entertaining. Especially when it comes to food.
Besides, as much as she enjoys experimental dining, carrot froth isn't really where it's at.
"You know, I knew I was forgetting something," Bucky says, turning his face toward his dinner for a brief moment. It's a joke, but it's also the kind of joke that's sort of true—he has no idea how he was going to decide that.
Or, now he guesses he had no idea.
"Figured I'd know it when it happened. This doesn't seem like a bad time.""
Natasha can't help but smile a bit, watching as he looks down at his plate. He's got this...contemplative sort of charm that he doesn't seem to even recognize as charming. She's not entirely sure he recognizes many or even any of his positive traits.
"Well, you figured right," she answers. Her gaze is thoughtful, like she's trying to decide whether it'll put him at ease or not if she continues. She's curious enough to find out how it lands. "And I enjoy spending time with you, so I'm glad you figured right and acted on it."
"You know, it's a lucky guy who can hear that from a pretty girl," Bucky says, glancing up and flashing a quick half smile. As fast as it is, it's genuine, reaching all the way to his eyes.
He does enjoy Natasha's company, and he is lucky she seems to find something to enjoy in his too.
"Pretty and smart, even. Generous. A guy could do a lot worse."
"Wow, I'd say 'flattery will get you everywhere,' but it might be unsporting if I try to make you blush this many times in one night," Natasha answers, smiling back at him. It's a lighthearted joke, solely because she's confident he wouldn't exactly know what to do with a genuine compliment in return.
"Besides, it's purely selfish," she adds, the smile edging back into a smirk as she quirks a brow at him. "No one else gets my Russian jokes."
Don't let it be said Bucky doesn't appreciate when she shows him a little mercy. Natasha is a formidable opponent in many respects, but when it comes to social niceties and verbal sparing he knows he's out she's got him outclassed.
"Definitely a bonus. Plus, always fun to talk behind people's backs in front of their faces."
"And here I thought you old fashioned folks had more manners than that." Something in her tone makes it clear that not only is she teasing him, but she has been thoroughly disabused of that notion. Thanks largely to her long friendship with Steve - who is both the most polite and most ornery person she has ever met in her life.
"See anyone around worth talking about in Russian?" she asks with a half smile. She doesn't doubt for a moment that he's scoped out everyone seated around them the same way that she has.
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But that doesn't mean they both don't deserve a night off. So she leans back in her seat a bit, eyes widening a little in a feigned look of innocence. "But if you're worried you might not be up for it, old man..." she lets the obvious bait trail off, mouth pulling to the side as she tries not to laugh.
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Keeps him on his toes.
"I think I have enough energy to have a nice dinner," he assures her, then flashing a wryer smile as he adds, "But I might have to turn in early if I'm going to go play dominos in the park tomorrow with the other old men."
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"We can't have you disappointing Walter and Cecil. They'll never let you live it down if you tell them you let a red head keep you out past your bedtime."
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Neutral sounding, but more likely to be something he has on just for noise, something to focus on so he doesn't start getting twitchy.
"Not a bad time to take a walk, either. Especially in a city like this."
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She smiles a little when he says he likes to take a walk at night. "Nice when it's snowing, too." It sort of brings a hush over the city that never really happens otherwise.
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"Just getting to Ursula Le Guin."
It's a pretty mild answer, all things considered.
"Anything I should check out?"
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"Definitely get through the Chronicles of Narnia if you haven't. And I haven't read all of them, but I think you'd like the Discworld series by Terry Pratchett. I'd say they're sort of comedic fantasy. They're very clever."
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He's only half kidding. He doesn't intend to read every book he might be interested in in order of publication, but... well, it gives him a place to start when he's trying to sort through the things he missed.
"I could use a few more laughs. I'll keep him in mind."
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"There's enough of them to keep you busy for a while. Over thirty of them."
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It's a joke, but one he figures she'll understand. There's always something. Even when they're trying to get some rest (or legally required to), they always get dragged into something.
The down side of not being able to look the other way when things go to shit. Steve must have rubbed off on Bucky all those years ago.
"But having someone to read with wouldn't be the worst."
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"Could be fun," she agrees with a little smile. "I'll have to invite you over sometime soon."
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Bucky is about to say more, but he's spared having to figure out what he intends to say next when the waiter reappears. He slips in with their first course, setting plates in front of Natasha first, then Bucky as he leans back to make room.
He glances up at their server, watching the young man pale, then nods and mutters a thanks to send him scurrying off.
"Looks good."
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She has to agree - the roast on her plate looks perfectly done, there's a vegetable medley with some kind of glaze drizzled on it, and mashed potatoes sprinkled with chives. "It really does," she agrees as she picks up her fork and brings it to the roast, finding that it's tender enough to take a piece without a knife. "By the way, if I knew you were waiting for an invitation, I would have made one a lot sooner."
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Not that he would have actually been scared away if there'd been a carrot froth, but he's willing to make fun of both himself, and nonsensical fancy food.
He shrugs off the second part though.
"Not exactly waiting for it, but I don't want to invite myself over either. Just waiting for the right time."
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Besides, as much as she enjoys experimental dining, carrot froth isn't really where it's at.
"How do you decide it's the right time?"
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Or, now he guesses he had no idea.
"Figured I'd know it when it happened. This doesn't seem like a bad time.""
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"Well, you figured right," she answers. Her gaze is thoughtful, like she's trying to decide whether it'll put him at ease or not if she continues. She's curious enough to find out how it lands. "And I enjoy spending time with you, so I'm glad you figured right and acted on it."
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He does enjoy Natasha's company, and he is lucky she seems to find something to enjoy in his too.
"Pretty and smart, even. Generous. A guy could do a lot worse."
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"Besides, it's purely selfish," she adds, the smile edging back into a smirk as she quirks a brow at him. "No one else gets my Russian jokes."
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"Definitely a bonus. Plus, always fun to talk behind people's backs in front of their faces."
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"See anyone around worth talking about in Russian?" she asks with a half smile. She doesn't doubt for a moment that he's scoped out everyone seated around them the same way that she has.
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