"Are these Schrödinger's manners?" Natasha asks, clearly entertained by the idea as a smirk tugs up the corner of her mouth. As if the manners are both good and bad so long as no one is observing them directly. Not that she has any leg to stand on as regards to gossip. Some of her best intel has come from neighbors and community members that can't help but chat amongst themselves.
His comment about talking in French prompts a genuine laugh. "Well, depends on what you think is worth talking about."
Bucky's smile turns a little more mischievous, and he glances over his shoulder before shrugging. When he speaks, he switches to French. It should be no surprise he speaks it well. Even before he was the Winter Soldier, deployed on the European front.
"Well, there's that guy's hair plugs," he suggests as he turns back. "French has to be the best language to talk about people's style. Especially if it's bad."
It's certainly not the kind of gossip she was expecting. One of her brows arches and she lets out a chuckle as a quick smile curls her lips.
His French is as good as she would have expected, and she lapses easily into the same language when she answers. "Well, not everyone can be blessed with hair like yours. You would think someone wearing a jacket that expensive would spring for a better hair system, though."
"No accounting for taste." Bucky says it, still in French, with a sort of flat, philosophical delivery. Then he cracks a smile again ands switches to English.
Among other things, he's not necessarily all that interested in talking about the other diners hair or shoes.
"Exactly the kind of thing you gossip about in French."
"Isn't that the truth?" she answers easily, lightly amused and smiling at his delivery. It's not exactly a sustainable topic of conversation, and she's not surprised when he switches back out of the language.
"Add in gossip about wine and food and we'll have the full trifecta," she muses, joining him back in English. It's maybe not a fair assessment of the French, but well. The topic is gossip after all. "What kind of thing would you like to talk about in English?"
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His comment about talking in French prompts a genuine laugh. "Well, depends on what you think is worth talking about."
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"Well, there's that guy's hair plugs," he suggests as he turns back. "French has to be the best language to talk about people's style. Especially if it's bad."
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His French is as good as she would have expected, and she lapses easily into the same language when she answers. "Well, not everyone can be blessed with hair like yours. You would think someone wearing a jacket that expensive would spring for a better hair system, though."
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Among other things, he's not necessarily all that interested in talking about the other diners hair or shoes.
"Exactly the kind of thing you gossip about in French."
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"Add in gossip about wine and food and we'll have the full trifecta," she muses, joining him back in English. It's maybe not a fair assessment of the French, but well. The topic is gossip after all. "What kind of thing would you like to talk about in English?"
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After a beat of facing what seems like a brick wall of possible choices, he asks, "How's Yelena doing?"