"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"I guess I'll just try to avoid getting hustled from you then, damn, I'm going to have to come up with some really out of date game or something to take you on hm?"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?"
“We might have to make it strip gin rummy then,” he teases, “If you’re so confident in your gin skills. Hell, we could also pick up a bottle of gin to go with it if we really want to make it a night.”
Still making the effort to distract himself he swipes some powdered sugar from the bag and puts a dollop of it on Natasha’s nose fondly. “Oh no, I guess I’ll have to clean that up now too,” he says and gives her nose a playful quick peck with his lips.
"Gin and gin?" she suggests with a grin. "Sounds like a good night to me. I'm sure the French will excuse us not drinking wine for gin and gin." She'll look up where they can buy alcohol and some food before they head back. Her contacts stocked the kitchen for them but there's nothing like being able to pick out some things to try for yourself.
She makes a face at him, wrinkling her nose playfully when he swipes the sugar on it. Since he's nice enough to clean it up, she returns the favor by tipping her head to kiss his jaw as he leans back. "You sure you didn't miss anything?"
"I'm sure we can find some excuse to go drink wine one the many other nights we're here," he says settling in to let her kiss his jaw. It feels nice, familiar in a way that a lot of other things don't. Safe.
"I think we might be good, but I can always do a second once over..." he sighs contently at that before leaning back to capture her lips in a long, soft kiss that's easy to fall into. When he pulls back he sighs happily. "Okay, now I think you're safe, darling."
"I appreciate your rigorous dedication to safety standards," Natasha answers with a grin after he leans back. Reaching up, she brushes the pad of her thumb lightly along his cheekbone. "Want to have a look around that little grocer's we walked by? Pick out some things you might like to try eating."
"Yeah let's go," he says moving to get up and taking her hand again to walk. "I want you to pick up some of your favorites too that you think I should try -- you know I hate making decisions," he gives her a smile as if to try to say and that's okay right?.
"I'll pick a few, you pick a few." She makes the agreement easily, taking a last sip of her coffee before tossing her trash in a nearby bin. Her hand twines with his as they walk. The good thing about going to a little local grocer's is that there will be considerably less to pick between than if they wandered into a supermarket.
Natasha passes a hand basket over to him to carry with a grin as they turn into the store. "You know what might be fun? We can make a charcuterie board. Then you can try things without having to commit to eating a lot of it if you end up not liking it."
"I mean, I feel like anything is probably better then what I was eating all those years.." he makes a face at her memory. The bullshit ration bars that were supposed to be optimum nutrients but left little more to taste then chewing on cardboard. Not that he'd ever actually do that.
He gives her hand a squeeze as they walk, this part is easy though. "I absolutely want some raspberries though. Used to sneak them all summer at home."
"You're not wrong there," she agreed. The widows had a standard of perfection they were expected to maintain. That, and she was pretty sure the luxury of a good meal on a mission was part of the bait Dreykov kept on his lure. As they made their way down along the refrigerated cases, she idly dropped a few different cheeses into the basket as she listened to him talk.
"Oh yeah? Were you growing them on the porch, or were they wild somewhere?" They'd come up to the fruit by that point, and her eyes skimmed the cartons before she let go of his hand and popped the lid on one. She extracted a raspberry and held it up for him to try with a grin. "Go on."
"Dad used to bring them back from his cousin's upstate a lot, and I would eat them before mom ever had a chance to use them." He says with a chuckle. He let's her pick things up while looking at stuff curiously.
When they get to the fruit aisle though he leans in and takes the raspberry from her, kissing her fingers with a grin. "Taste just like I remember." And then proceeds to load up on all sorts of different fruit, a peach, persimmons, a pomegranate.
Natasha smiles to herself as she listens to him talk, casually adding items to the hand basket. It's nice to hear his memories when they come back like this - just little things that shaped his life before slipping easily through the cracks. She winks at him when he kisses her fingertips.
"Blueberries. And cherries. My sister and I used to eat them out in the back yard and compete to see who could spit the pit the farthest." She sounds amused as she shares the story, like she's well aware of how hideously unladylike it was. Which was entirely the point of doing it.
"Grab some, I'm not afraid to take you on girl," he'd tease and lean over to give her cheek a kiss. Honestly, Natasha is ladylike but that's not what attracts him to her. At this point he's pretty sure of that anyways.
"I feel like the army might have prepared me for some real spintin' contests though," he says with a grin. In truth he doesn't know why he likes her, other then he does and his memories tell him that -- but each story she tells him is even more endearing and he can't help but smile when she tells them.
"I think we might be evenly matched," Natasha answered with a smirk as she set a container of cherries into the basket. Her hand rested on his back as she ambled them over to first get some crackers, and then some chocolate. If they were going to go in on their own personal smorgasbord, they were going to go all in.
It was nice, to have a quiet moment with him. Those had always been few and far between, everything notched up to 11 due to the necessity of sneaking around. "We've got a pretty good spread here," she observed thoughtfully. "Anything else you want to try?"
He can't help himself, she looks so pretty that he grabs her waist and leans in to whisper into her ear, all hot and breathy. "I don't know, I seem to remember you being very very good with your mouth, Widow."
It's just a moment, hot as he pulls back looking in her eyes with a thirsty look he hasn't given her in years. It's gone just a moment later, and instead he's blushing, like the it had just hit him square in the chest what he had just done and said. He shakes his head.
"Uh, I mean, all the food looks really good. I think we're absolutely got enough to try tonight," he says softly.
Natasha's not expecting him to grab her waist like that, but she is absolutely not opposed to it. Her heartbeat spikes as she tips her head to listen to what he whispers in her ear. As he leans back, her eyes meet his, her mouth curling into a smirk as the flush rises in his cheeks.
Reaching up, her fingertips run back along the line of his cheekbone. "We better check out, then," she agrees. But before he can go, she moves her arm around his shoulder. Tugging him in, she leans up so she can murmur, "any time you want to try my mouth, just say the word."
She punctuates the response with a kiss to his cheek, patting his shoulder with a smile as she slips around him.
He looks at her with eyes like he's shocked at the comment. It punches him right in the gut in a way that nothing really quite had. Prior to this it had been soft things, kisses, cuddles and memories of a little more but that was hot and gorgeous. He pushes the thought out of his gut enough to go to the check out and pay, an arm around Natasha's waist as they wait and pay before they leave.
"You're gonna kill me with that..." he admits once they're out the store glancing over at her with a grin. Honestly though, he wants to make it special though. When they're ready. The idea is slowly fleeting though after that comment in a way that makes him feel like a 16 year old.
"We might have to go lingerie shopping one of the days, I hear the French make very nice things."
She can see that her reply surprised him, and she can't help but chuckle a little at the look on his face. Having him back in her life in any way is an unexpected boon. She's not in a rush to take him in any particular direction, but she can't help flirting with him when he leaves her an opening like that. She's positive he won't hold it against her.
She leans against him as they wait in line, paying with cash before they make their way out of the store. Looking at the number of bags they now have between them, she's not entirely convinced they'll all fit into the storage compartment on the bike. They'll figure out a way to make it work.
"The French do make very nice things," she agrees. "And you certainly seemed to like the lingerie I had on that time you saw me dancing." It's a vague enough comment to slip away under their cover, though she's not sure he'll remember that undercover mission at the strip club in Moscow. "Anywhere else you want to stop before we head back?"
He might hold it against her, although it would be in a very different way.
When she asks if there's anything else he wants to do he shakes his head thinking right on the same page as she is. They already have more then enough things then they're going to be able to do on the bike.
"I was serious about that silky garment shopping for another day -- I feel like taking cheese and fruit into those shops are frowned upon," he adds smiling over at her as he leads her back towards the bike. "Maybe tomorrow we could try out the park or something too? But I think we need to get this stuff into the refrigerator."
His mind dances on the words of her dancing, he doesn't have quite the full bits of that memory, just some of the stuff in the hotel that night.
"I don't remember that but I feel like you could maybe recreate the whole idea for my memory..."
"Some of them give you snacks and champagne while you try things on," Natasha informs him. Though she can't say with confidence that's true in the town they're staying in, the odds are decent enough if they can find a high end lingerie store. Though she doesn't do it often, she does like to indulge. And she certainly doesn't mind letting him get an eyeful while she's at it.
She props open the storage compartment on the bike and frowns thoughtfully down at it. This is going to be like a game of Jenga. "We should definitely get these back to the apartment, but the park tomorrow sounds good."
With a grin, she reaches out to hand him some of the bags she's carrying so she can start fitting their purchases into the compartment. "Are you asking me to dance for you, James?"
He starts to help her put the bags in like a jigsaw puzzle, adjusting a few turns before they just manage to get everything in, but it's a good thing they bought nothing else.
"So let me get this straight," he speaks as they do it, "You get to go play with fancy silky things and drink bubbly, French women must be spoiled."
It's an obvious joke as he smiles at her handing her the helmet for the bike before slipping his own on. He waits til she's got her arms around him on the bike and they're settled before brining up the dancing comment again.
"I thought you wanted me to ask you for things I wanted, Cherie?" he says before taking off on the bike, not waiting for an answer. He's still a little gun shy of the whole flirting thing and it's obvious.
Natasha takes a moment to admire their handiwork once all their purchases are meticulously crammed into the storage compartment. It's weirdly just as satisfying as a successful stakeout. She takes the helmet from him with a smile, pulling it onto her head as she answers him. "Oh, not just French women."
After securing the helmet strap, she climbs on the bike after him. Her chin leans on his shoulder as she listens to his question, and she chuckles when he takes off before she can answer. Her arms give his mid-section an affectionate squeeze.
She lets him navigate and enjoys the view from the back of the bike. The smell of salt is in the air, so she knows the ocean is nearby, but she can't see it. Maybe she'll map out a coastal route so they can drive it later and watch the sunset. When they arrive back at the apartment, she runs her hands up his sides before climbing off the bike.
"For the record," she says as she opens the storage to start undoing their hard work by handing him bags, "I'll dance for you any day."
The holds out the metal arm letting her hang multiple bags from it like a hook. It's convenient in that way and he just smiles and blushes a little at the offer of the dance shaking his head fondly.
"Did you always make me blush like this, Nat? Or is it a new occurrence?" He asks curiously before taking the bags she'd given him up to the apartment and taking them out on the counter carefully unpacking them putting away the ones that needed to be cooled in the fridge.
He can hardly look at her when she asks the question, mind still lost a little bit in the offer of silky panties and dances. It's not the bad kind of overwhelming to his brain, but overwhelming none the less.
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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?"
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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."
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"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."
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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?"
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Still making the effort to distract himself he swipes some powdered sugar from the bag and puts a dollop of it on Natasha’s nose fondly. “Oh no, I guess I’ll have to clean that up now too,” he says and gives her nose a playful quick peck with his lips.
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She makes a face at him, wrinkling her nose playfully when he swipes the sugar on it. Since he's nice enough to clean it up, she returns the favor by tipping her head to kiss his jaw as he leans back. "You sure you didn't miss anything?"
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"I think we might be good, but I can always do a second once over..." he sighs contently at that before leaning back to capture her lips in a long, soft kiss that's easy to fall into. When he pulls back he sighs happily. "Okay, now I think you're safe, darling."
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Natasha passes a hand basket over to him to carry with a grin as they turn into the store. "You know what might be fun? We can make a charcuterie board. Then you can try things without having to commit to eating a lot of it if you end up not liking it."
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He gives her hand a squeeze as they walk, this part is easy though. "I absolutely want some raspberries though. Used to sneak them all summer at home."
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"Oh yeah? Were you growing them on the porch, or were they wild somewhere?" They'd come up to the fruit by that point, and her eyes skimmed the cartons before she let go of his hand and popped the lid on one. She extracted a raspberry and held it up for him to try with a grin. "Go on."
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When they get to the fruit aisle though he leans in and takes the raspberry from her, kissing her fingers with a grin. "Taste just like I remember." And then proceeds to load up on all sorts of different fruit, a peach, persimmons, a pomegranate.
"Do you have any favorites?"
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"Blueberries. And cherries. My sister and I used to eat them out in the back yard and compete to see who could spit the pit the farthest." She sounds amused as she shares the story, like she's well aware of how hideously unladylike it was. Which was entirely the point of doing it.
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"I feel like the army might have prepared me for some real spintin' contests though," he says with a grin. In truth he doesn't know why he likes her, other then he does and his memories tell him that -- but each story she tells him is even more endearing and he can't help but smile when she tells them.
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It was nice, to have a quiet moment with him. Those had always been few and far between, everything notched up to 11 due to the necessity of sneaking around. "We've got a pretty good spread here," she observed thoughtfully. "Anything else you want to try?"
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It's just a moment, hot as he pulls back looking in her eyes with a thirsty look he hasn't given her in years. It's gone just a moment later, and instead he's blushing, like the it had just hit him square in the chest what he had just done and said. He shakes his head.
"Uh, I mean, all the food looks really good. I think we're absolutely got enough to try tonight," he says softly.
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Reaching up, her fingertips run back along the line of his cheekbone. "We better check out, then," she agrees. But before he can go, she moves her arm around his shoulder. Tugging him in, she leans up so she can murmur, "any time you want to try my mouth, just say the word."
She punctuates the response with a kiss to his cheek, patting his shoulder with a smile as she slips around him.
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"You're gonna kill me with that..." he admits once they're out the store glancing over at her with a grin. Honestly though, he wants to make it special though. When they're ready. The idea is slowly fleeting though after that comment in a way that makes him feel like a 16 year old.
"We might have to go lingerie shopping one of the days, I hear the French make very nice things."
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She leans against him as they wait in line, paying with cash before they make their way out of the store. Looking at the number of bags they now have between them, she's not entirely convinced they'll all fit into the storage compartment on the bike. They'll figure out a way to make it work.
"The French do make very nice things," she agrees. "And you certainly seemed to like the lingerie I had on that time you saw me dancing." It's a vague enough comment to slip away under their cover, though she's not sure he'll remember that undercover mission at the strip club in Moscow. "Anywhere else you want to stop before we head back?"
He might hold it against her, although it would be in a very different way.
"I was serious about that silky garment shopping for another day -- I feel like taking cheese and fruit into those shops are frowned upon," he adds smiling over at her as he leads her back towards the bike. "Maybe tomorrow we could try out the park or something too? But I think we need to get this stuff into the refrigerator."
His mind dances on the words of her dancing, he doesn't have quite the full bits of that memory, just some of the stuff in the hotel that night.
"I don't remember that but I feel like you could maybe recreate the whole idea for my memory..."
ahaha just literally instead of figuratively
She props open the storage compartment on the bike and frowns thoughtfully down at it. This is going to be like a game of Jenga. "We should definitely get these back to the apartment, but the park tomorrow sounds good."
With a grin, she reaches out to hand him some of the bags she's carrying so she can start fitting their purchases into the compartment. "Are you asking me to dance for you, James?"
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"So let me get this straight," he speaks as they do it, "You get to go play with fancy silky things and drink bubbly, French women must be spoiled."
It's an obvious joke as he smiles at her handing her the helmet for the bike before slipping his own on. He waits til she's got her arms around him on the bike and they're settled before brining up the dancing comment again.
"I thought you wanted me to ask you for things I wanted, Cherie?" he says before taking off on the bike, not waiting for an answer. He's still a little gun shy of the whole flirting thing and it's obvious.
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After securing the helmet strap, she climbs on the bike after him. Her chin leans on his shoulder as she listens to his question, and she chuckles when he takes off before she can answer. Her arms give his mid-section an affectionate squeeze.
She lets him navigate and enjoys the view from the back of the bike. The smell of salt is in the air, so she knows the ocean is nearby, but she can't see it. Maybe she'll map out a coastal route so they can drive it later and watch the sunset. When they arrive back at the apartment, she runs her hands up his sides before climbing off the bike.
"For the record," she says as she opens the storage to start undoing their hard work by handing him bags, "I'll dance for you any day."
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"Did you always make me blush like this, Nat? Or is it a new occurrence?" He asks curiously before taking the bags she'd given him up to the apartment and taking them out on the counter carefully unpacking them putting away the ones that needed to be cooled in the fridge.
He can hardly look at her when she asks the question, mind still lost a little bit in the offer of silky panties and dances. It's not the bad kind of overwhelming to his brain, but overwhelming none the less.
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