brushpass | threads

Natasha smiles to herself as he takes the keys and grabs a gun. It doesn't surprise her that he's excited about the motorcycle - but she is glad that he's letting himself express that excitement. She already armed herself when she got dressed with her typical array of electric darts, knives, and spy gadgetry.

"Not a bad idea," she agrees, because she absolutely doesn't trust Steve to not happily open the picture somewhere public. He's learned a lot over the last year but he still doesn't really think clearly when it comes to the re-appearance of his best friend. Natasha eyes the living room and beckons him to follow her over to a bare patch of wall painted a neutral enough eggshell white. "Get in close," she instructs as she gets her phone out and turns the camera on. "I promise I won't bite unless you ask," she concludes, turning her head to give him a mischievous grin.

He is going to make himself very welcome at that and steps right behind her so that he can lean in over her shoulder, leaning his head into hers a little bit to clearly express some of the romance in their relationship. Why? Well, he thinks it'll be easier to warm Steve up in this way and he waits for her to take the photo.

"Can I type out the text?" He asks curiously leaning against the wall after before taking the phone. He dictates it once he's done typing. "Isn't she the prettiest thing you've ever seen? -B" he says not hitting send and handing the phone back over to Natasha.

Natasha leans into him when he stands behind her, tilting her head toward his, a small smile lingering on her lips. She looks at the phone and takes the picture, then adds it to a text. "Sure," she answers with a shrug as she hands the phone over to him. Waiting with her arms folded, she watches as he types something out.

When he reads it out loud, she rolls her eyes fondly. "Sap," she says as she presses send. She turns the phone off and tucks it into the pocket of her blazer. Moving back over to him, her hand slides down his arm so she can take his hand. "Come on, let's go check out that bike."

"I'm not a sap -- you just are gorgeous, plus then I don't gotta answer weird questions.." he grumbles taking the bike keeps and squeezing her hand as they head out of the apartment to find the bike which is simple enough to do. He hops on and lets her get on holding her before they go for a drive to town, taking a bit of the long way as he just enjoys the comfort of the bike in the wet spring morning.

Once they park in town he can't help but give her another dumb smile, it's nice enjoying every bit of it.

"You picked a good vacation spot you know, lots of nice things to experience to get away from the stress of every day life at the shop for me," he compliments her, of course he means the town in general, getting away from the memories, but he's linking it all into their covers.

"He'll refrain from asking questions for a bit if you ask him to." Natasha makes the point mildly, just offering it as something for him to think about. He's going to want to talk to Steve at some point. She figures she can help smooth out the road a bit. Getting on the bike behind him, she wraps her arms around his mid-section and leans against his back. The last time she'd been on a bike with him, she'd been facing backwards, firing a gun at the wheels of a car pursuing them. She smiles a little at the memory.

All things considered, touring a quiet town in coastal France is a better use of a motorcycle.

She points out a parking spot over his shoulder as they get closer to the center of town, and hops off the back of the bike once he's parked it. Smiling at him, she reaches up to touch the side of his face. It's easy to read between the lines. "I had a feeling we'd like being somewhere neither of us have been before. Wanna put your arm around me?" she offers impishly. "We can walk until we find something that smells good."

"Is it culturally appropriate to hold hands in France?" he asks like the clueless America mechanic that his character is supposed to be but reaches for Natasha's hand anyways, happy to take a hold of it and let her lead him towards the square.

"Yes, it wouldn't be a really great bakery if it wasn't able to be smelled from a couple blocks away am I right?" he asks, his eyes are darting wildly around the street though, checking each and every person, each doorway, taking it all in. It's a lot, but he feels slightly better knowing that Natasha is here, she's helping, and if anything where to happen she'd be there to help him with it as well.

Thinking of the bakery his mind blurs a little bit to a hotel in Germany, Natasha ordering waffles that were the size of his head as room service. She ate them completely naked and teased him mercilessly for being distracted by her naked over the waffles with the fluffy butter and the syrup.

"Do you remember Dusseldorf?"

"We're in France, not Utah," Natasha answers, amused, her fingers twining easily with his as she turns them towards the town's center. It's a nice area - she might even go so far as to call it cute. She glances over at him with a smile when he makes the comment about the bakery and can see the way his eyes are darting around. Her hand squeezes his. "Trust your instincts. You're going to know if something is wrong."

She's never known a life where she doesn't have to look over her shoulder. Individual people can be harder to read, but there's a certain predictability to the pattern of groups. It makes it easier to spot when someone is breaking that pattern.

His question is met with a low chuckle. "Oh, I remember Dusseldorf." That had been a good night. "What were you remembering about it?"

He shoots eyes at her that say for once, he was just playing the stupid American role, and that wasn't James asking the question but he squeezes her hand lovingly anyways because well, it's not Utah and he's going to enjoy himself very much thank you.

When he listens to her talk about trusting himself it's a bit easier to relax his shoulders, even just a bit, and take in the city a little more.

"You and your damn waffles. Also I remember I got some sort of desert that had powdered sugar and somehow they ended up all over you breasts, not really sure how that happened..." he teases. He knows exactly how that happened for once as he's grinning over at her with playful hungry eyes. Not the kind that say that he's going to try anything soon, but the kind that say there's a fire slowly be stoked inside him adding a log at a time, a long slow burn.

"What do you remember about it?"

Natasha meets his gaze with a look of her own that seems to say obviously. She can't help but laugh a little to herself as he squeezes her hand, leaning in so her shoulder bumps against his arm as they walk. She can feel him relaxing a bit and she's glad. It can be hard to re-learn trusting your instincts.

She's smiling as he recounts his memories of Dusseldorf, letting go of his hand for a moment so she can run her hand over his back as they walk. "Oh I'm sure you have no idea how that powdered sugar got there. Or how it got off." Her head tips toward him as she responds to that hungry look with a wink.

"It was a nice night. I always liked getting breakfast food when we were together. You always looked happy to have an excuse to eat something sweet."

"Well you do taste sweet," he starts before laughing, "God, we were really that cliché constantly horny couple weren't he?" He says with a laugh, there's a look in his eyes to match hers, the unsaid part about how it was probably more because they didn't get that often together, it made sense how everything seemed to turn to sex with them. It does make it hard to sometimes to dig through the memories though, and he makes a note to tell Natasha that when they're no longer out in public.

All the other things he starts to think about things he wants to ask, making notes in his head as they walk.

"You know, I don't think you told me much about your time growing up in Ohio. Did you like it?" he asks curiously, it's something that at least still fits with the character and is something he knows he can ask her.

It had definitely been an intimacy speed run. Natasha had liked having a secret with him, something that was just for them. Something they could do that felt good. And as much as she had enjoyed all the fooling around, she'd liked the rest of it just as much. The laughter, the conversation. Knowing they had each other's backs. "You can say that again."

She smiles over at him when he asks about Ohio. "I did. We did gymnastics. I used to ride a bike all around. Dyed my hair blue," she reflects. Her voice is undeniably fond. "I wouldn't be who I am if I didn't have that time."

He warps his arm around her shoulder letting her lean in a little bit as they walk. They fit nice like this, and he's going to enjoy it. "Lucky for us we have all the time in the world anymore, and we're in France," he says fondly. She'd done a good job with this, like a really good job with it all.

"I'd like to see you with blue hair sometime, I can't imagine you with it at all, did you like that as a kid?" he chuckles softly. "Maybe when we get back to the States we can take a road trip sometime. Ohio isn't all that far from Indiana you know..." which is a stupid thing to say in hindsight, so he bites the corner of his lip a bit realizing it was a dumb suggestion.

Her arm loops around his waist in turn as his arm settles around her shoulders and she lets her hand run over his side with a smile when he says they have all the time in the world. It's a charming rarity, to have time. To not have to rush through everything. Neither of them are the type to ever stop looking over their shoulders, but she'll take time.

"I liked how it was rebellious, you know? You want me to be the perfect daughter, well now I've got blue hair and I'm cruising around the neighborhood on a bike and skinning my knees learning to skateboard. I've got a picture I can show you." Melina has the photo album, but she at least has that photo strip of her and Yelena. Her head turns and she looks at him with a fond smile. "We can go to Ohio. But if you're trying to meet my family, we'll have to go somewhere else."

He makes a note to ask more about her family in specific when they're back in the privacy of their safe house. He doesn't want to risk what they have going here, even if it feels pretty safe, he doesn't want to have to run again right away.

They wander into the center of town and find a patisserie where Bucky keeps an arm around her and orders an espresso and a croissant and then tells the counter person, "and whatever my beautiful girlfriend wants," before he pays for whatever Nat has before using the wallet that Nat had given him. Sure it was a little off, but it feels nice to be taking care of her even in the smallest of ways that he could.

They take the food outside to a bench in the sun so they can eat and enjoy the French morning. He's quite, not pensive, but just enjoying the beauty of the city, the sun on his face.

"They say Paris is for lovers but I'm starting to feel like all of France is," he says softly after taking a drink of his coffee. "How do Frenchmen not fall in love with every pretty girl they meet in a town like this?"

The patisserie is small but bustling, and Natasha orders a pain au chocolat and an espresso of her own. She drops a kiss on his jaw after he pays. It's a nice morning. She likes the look of the sun, the way people are milling around and enjoying each other's company. Being able to preserve these moments for people is one of the reasons why she's stayed in the field as long as she has. But it's nice, to have some quiet every once in a while.

"Have you never met a Frenchman?" she quips as she looks over at him with a smirk. "I'm pretty sure they do."

He thinks about saying something about that he has, during the war but it would be out of his cover and wrong to do so he just smiles over at her. "My first job out of school, worked with a couple, they were womanizers..." he teases, but of course it was the war and who wasn't at the time. Any time they got leave it was go looking for the ladies of course, and drinks.

"I'm sure they do very well but I like girls from Ohio," he says and sets his croissant down on his lap so he can wrap an arm around her shoulder and still hold on to his espresso. These moments are easy, and they seem to come more naturally as he does each one. It's like it's as easy as climbing a flight of stairs. "Climbing up that tree and crawling into the window in your parents two story..." he says with a happy sigh as he unlocks another memory, simply changing out the details but referencing the window climbing. Sure it'd been scaling a brick wall at the red room with nothing to climb but same thing right?

Natasha's been in the game long enough that she can read between the lines. Moreover, she's finding that she still knows him well enough to tell when he's telling a piece of the truth behind the cover. It's a nice balance. There's a hint of a smirk at the corner of her mouth when he mentions that the Frenchmen he knew were womanizers. "Oh, I'm sure they were the only ones," she teases.

She leans easily into him as his arm drapes around her shoulders, taking a bite from her pastry as she listens to him. She can't help but laugh a little, tipping her head to look over at him when it becomes apparent that he's uncovered a memory. "All that sneaking around," she reminisces. "Having you show up at my window at night was the only good part of having to live in Ohio."

"You are not seriously accusing me of being an womanizer myself are you?" He asks with a chuckle leaning on to kiss her the top of her head fondly. "Well, we do have the real source to go to for that so I suppose we can get an independent judgement sometime from him." He's fairly certain that Steve will absolutely say he was way too much, but he might be able to get to him first and suggest he play wingman for him if they avoid that conversation for long enough.

"You were the only good thing about Ohio too..." he adds softly as he sinks into the memories itself. He's quite, focusing on the memories as he sips his espresso and keeps the arm around her gently. No matter how easy some of this is, with her guidance, sometimes he shifts a rock, and finds a painful spot in his brain. When those happens he shuts down a little further, just like that.

"Less accusing, more observing," Natasha corrects with a fond smile. She tips her head toward him as he kisses her hair, and then shifts so she can lean her head on his shoulder. The silence lingers, and then lingers long enough that she can tell he's chasing a thread through his mind. She links her hand with his, giving it a squeeze. "Penny for your thoughts."

Her voice shakes him out of it, shaking his head a little bit as though he's trying to clear the thought from his head. "Just, bad memories, I can tell you about them when we're back if you really wanna know.." he says before taking a sip of his coffee.

As if it's that simple to push the bad memories away, they're still creeping there, hiding out in the corner but he tries to push them away. "What do you do when you can get them out of your brain? or stop thinking about them?" he asks curiously.

"I wanna know anything you want to share," Natasha answers. He's got several decades worth of bad memories and trauma to process. And there's no blueprint for how to go about it. All he can do is feel through what's right for him and all she can do is give him a safe place to crash land.

She hums thoughtfully as she mulls over his question. "Something active. Drinking, sparring, darts." Her elbow nudges his side playfully. "Making out like teenagers."

"Maybe we'll make out tonight then, or go dancing, depending on what we feel like later," he suggests squeezing her hand. He could use to get his mind out of the mess that it was in, thoughts of being tortured filling it all because of a failed mission that he'd committed.

They'd never failed together. It was the only one he'd ever properly failed, when he had killed his target, but not his handler in Odessa. When he'd let Natasha live, the flashes in his brain about it all were still a jumbled mess, and he very well could not fight them off here in the city so he tries to burry them deeper.

"Did someone teach you how to play darts somewhere, or did you just happen to pick it up sometime?" He asks curiously, "How about billiards?"

"Get some music going in the living room and we can have the best of both worlds," Natasha answers with a smile. She can tell there's a little bit of 'fake it until you make it' going on behind his answers. But she trusts him to let her know if it's too overwhelming. She can fake a plausible reason for them to get up and make a quick exit at any time.

She shifts so her shoulder is leaning against his as she answers him. "My best friend has really great aim," she tells him, obviously referring to Clint. "And I'm really competitive. It was one of the things we used to do when we were getting to know each other. Billiards I like too. I promise I won't hustle you."

"I dunno, if you get me dancing you might get a little too distracted by how good my body moves, darlin'" it's light and teasing, and clearly still a fake it until you make it moment but he's leaning into it. Hell, maybe the idea of teasing his not-girlfriend about being too turned on and wanting to have sex with him is just the kind of teasing he needs to break the stupid out of his brain.

"I guess I'll just try to avoid getting hustled from you then, damn, I'm going to have to come up with some really out of date game or something to take you on hm?" he jokes as he starts to think about it. "Parcheesi or something like that."

"I'm always distracted by how good your body moves." Natasha flirts back with him easily, keeping the banter playful. It's something to focus on that's not introspective, a pattern break to hopefully give him some relief until they can get back to the apartment. She makes a mental note to ask him if there's anything else he wants to be doing as he works through the mess that's been left behind in his mind.

She hums thoughtfully as she takes a bite of her pastry. "I can't say I've played much parcheesi. You'll have to remind me of the rules. How about gin?"

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject