Her eyes dart around the dining area as Bucky pulls himself away. She doesn't take rejection well, and that's what this feels like to her. "Bucky...?" Natasha's voice lowers to a rough whisper so low it's nearly a growl. "Where's your place?"
It's not a rejection! It's just a "now is neither the right time nor place." However, there's something just plain irresistible about her pushiness. About the perceived neediness, and no, he can’t resist even as he reels from the bizarreness of the situation. “Uh...two more stops west on the subway and then a five minute walk?”
OK, maybe when you factor in they fought a Skrull that threatened to invade the Earth only a few hours ago, this is a little ill timed. Tasha handles crisis a little differently than most.
She looks him over as he speak, calculating the time it will take to get to his place. She nods, reaching into her purse for a wad of cash. It's more than is needed but she doesn't care. "Let's go. Now." She manages to hold it together. Somehow.
It is definitely bizarre having a girl throw herself at him in public on their first date, and he's really not sure what to make of it. Especially with the day they've had. His confusion lays bare on his face when she pulls out that big wad of money; he finds himself wondering if she pays for everything this way, drunk or not. As someone who lived through not only the Great Depression, but the rationing that came with WWII, it's off-putting to see someone casually wave around that much cash. That would have paid for his and Steve’s rent for a year back in the day.
Bucky all but presses himself against the wall. “Uh...yeah. Sure.”
SHIELD isn't her only job. Natasha may have better morals about who the highest bidder is for her specific skillset, but she still gets paid very well for it. She pauses a moment, the raw nearly animalistic need fading just long enough for her to catch the look on his face.
Tasha tilts her head, inspecting him silently. Her lipstick on his skin and the way both his and her clothes are disheveled. "I..." She closes her eyes, reminding herself who he is. Who she is. She doesn't want it to go down like this, to mess things up when it's hardly gotten started.
It's bad timing, the world could be invaded at any moment. They could die, but she doesn't care. Tasha reaches out slowly, almost as though she's afraid she'll scare him, and wipes the smudge of her lipstick off his skin. "I'm sorry." She says softly. "It's been a really weird day and...I don't wanna be alone tonight." That sounds so...slutty. "I mean, I just..." Natasha tried again, closing her eyes. "You make me feel safe, Bucky. For the first time in a long time." She opens
( ... )
He studies her a moment before nodding. It’s ironic. He used similar lines on women back during the war. “I’m shipping out soon and could die. I wanna make the most of this.” Of course he hadn’t meant it, but gals fell head-over-heels for lines like that, especially British gals who hung all over yanks. Rationing had already been going on for a while there before it had begun in the United States, and the girls were hurting from the fabric shortage. One gal had tried to get close to him just in hopes that he’d buy her some stockings, only to be disappointed to learn that nylon rationing had begun in the States, as well. The dishonesty and manipulation had gone both ways.
But this time...he’s used similar lines insincerely enough times that he can tell when someone is being sincere, and he can see in Natasha’s eyes that she’s sorry for the way she was pushing things. He can also tell that she’s not going to push things. That she wants his presence whether or not anything happens, and in his case, he really doesn’t care if
( ... )
She doesn't say another word, taking his hand in hers. She mutters something to the owner of the diner about starting a tab to make up for all the extra cash she threw around.
Natasha knows she's too scared to think straight, she's been the one playing that game on people before, too. Abuse the weakness, exploit basic human decency to get what you want any way you can get it. It was all part of the job. Or at least it used to be.
She silently takes them to her apartment, which isn't much of a home. Tasha doesn't spend a lot of time there. There's a desk with work papers scattered on it, a small kitchen and living room and the bedroom and bathroom off to the side.
Natasha drops Bucky's hand once they're inside. She starts pacing the apartment nervously, unsure why she's feeling this way. The Skrulls, the lose of her inhibitions at the diner, the guilt of pushing Bucky like that? She's not sure why but she has an overwhelming urge to break down and cry.
She sinks down onto her sofa, burying her face in her hands. She can't let
( ... )
She may not want or like Bucky seeing her cry, but he does. “Oh, Tasha,” he says, sitting beside her and resting a hand on her shoulder. Natasha Romanoff crying is not a sight he ever thought he’d see, and it’s off-putting, but understandable. The day they’ve had could break anyone down. Bucky may not be expressing it the same way, but he certainly feels it. The tension, the worry and distrust and just all of it. He knows it’s real, even if it doesn’t feel real, and he suspects she’s feeling that, as well.
But still...to see the strongest woman he knows, the woman who had been so in control when she’d been interrogating that Skrull...to see that woman break down like this sends him into a panic. “It’s gonna be okay,” he says as he rubs her shoulder, but he’s never been the best at comforting, and the gesture just comes across as awkward. “Not gonna let anything happen.” Even if he knows that the next morning, they’ll have to deal with the Skrull situation. For now, they can escape.
She may be strong, capable and at times ruthless but she's still human. She's still just a girl deep down under it all. And she is afraid of what will happen. Not just to her and Bucky but to the rest of the world.
"It's not gonna be OK." She picks her head up to look at him with tear reddened eyes. His hand on her shoulder isn't enough for her. Without hesitation she wraps her arms around him, perhaps too tightly for his injuries.
"You're one man." Tasha says with a sob. She's not saying it to belittle Bucky's ability but she saw what one lone Skrull did to him. What if there are hundreds, even thousands? Tasha's shaking like a leaf just thinking about it. She lifts her head up to look in his eyes. "We should run." Tasha chokes out, hating herself for even thinking it, let alone suggesting it.
He laughs incredulously. “Run where, Tasha? If there is a risk of invasion, nowhere will be safe. Besides, we’d have to cut it off at its source. Here in the city.” Unless there are other Skrulls scouting other cities already. There haven’t been any reports, but perhaps those scouts are just being stealthier. Either way, at least one and possibly two had been seen in New York City-one of them wearing the face of Nick Fury. Commander Hill is doing the best she can as they search for him, but what if they are unable to find him? The country would likely be safe for a while, but what kind of soldiers would they be if they ran? No, placating Natasha would solve nothing. It’s time for Bucky to be realistic with her.
"What if we can't?" She's still not good at handling the strange and unknown. Sure, she can roll with the punches but this is terrifying. "We don't even know what we're dealing with."
Tasha's glad he's remaining level headed about this, because she just can't.
"We will," he says, and it actually sounds like he means it. He's faced seemingly insurmountable odds before and made it out alive. Never mind that this is on a larger scale. He rubs Tasha's back, kisses her temple. "It'll be ugly, but we'll do it."
Tasha isn't the way many people get to see her right now. The Black Widow? She'd be just as zealously proclaiming their ability to win as Bucky is. Hell, she'd be out there kicking ass already. Natasha, however? Not so much. Not tonight.
His confidence is enough to make her snap out of it, at least slightly. "Yeah. We will." She agrees before he kisses her temple. Tasha quickly turns her head, pressing her lips on his. There's no near violent desperation to it this time. It's tender, comforting. It's what she needs right now and she hopes he feels the same way. "Thank you for being brave when I'm not."
Natasha has kissed a lot of men in a lot of different situations. She knows a thing or two about the level of sincerity in such a simple action. She knows, that's what names him different. Better.
Even if he's not brave, the attitude is enough to make her less afraid and more like her usual confident self. So much so that she get a little more aggressive, wrapping her fingers over his shoulders so she can pull herself into his lap. "You're still gonna stay with me tonight, aren't you?"
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OK, maybe when you factor in they fought a Skrull that threatened to invade the Earth only a few hours ago, this is a little ill timed. Tasha handles crisis a little differently than most.
She looks him over as he speak, calculating the time it will take to get to his place. She nods, reaching into her purse for a wad of cash. It's more than is needed but she doesn't care. "Let's go. Now." She manages to hold it together. Somehow.
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Bucky all but presses himself against the wall. “Uh...yeah. Sure.”
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Tasha tilts her head, inspecting him silently. Her lipstick on his skin and the way both his and her clothes are disheveled. "I..." She closes her eyes, reminding herself who he is. Who she is. She doesn't want it to go down like this, to mess things up when it's hardly gotten started.
It's bad timing, the world could be invaded at any moment. They could die, but she doesn't care. Tasha reaches out slowly, almost as though she's afraid she'll scare him, and wipes the smudge of her lipstick off his skin. "I'm sorry." She says softly. "It's been a really weird day and...I don't wanna be alone tonight." That sounds so...slutty. "I mean, I just..." Natasha tried again, closing her eyes. "You make me feel safe, Bucky. For the first time in a long time." She opens ( ... )
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But this time...he’s used similar lines insincerely enough times that he can tell when someone is being sincere, and he can see in Natasha’s eyes that she’s sorry for the way she was pushing things. He can also tell that she’s not going to push things. That she wants his presence whether or not anything happens, and in his case, he really doesn’t care if ( ... )
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Natasha knows she's too scared to think straight, she's been the one playing that game on people before, too. Abuse the weakness, exploit basic human decency to get what you want any way you can get it. It was all part of the job. Or at least it used to be.
She silently takes them to her apartment, which isn't much of a home. Tasha doesn't spend a lot of time there. There's a desk with work papers scattered on it, a small kitchen and living room and the bedroom and bathroom off to the side.
Natasha drops Bucky's hand once they're inside. She starts pacing the apartment nervously, unsure why she's feeling this way. The Skrulls, the lose of her inhibitions at the diner, the guilt of pushing Bucky like that? She's not sure why but she has an overwhelming urge to break down and cry.
She sinks down onto her sofa, burying her face in her hands. She can't let ( ... )
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But still...to see the strongest woman he knows, the woman who had been so in control when she’d been interrogating that Skrull...to see that woman break down like this sends him into a panic. “It’s gonna be okay,” he says as he rubs her shoulder, but he’s never been the best at comforting, and the gesture just comes across as awkward. “Not gonna let anything happen.” Even if he knows that the next morning, they’ll have to deal with the Skrull situation. For now, they can escape.
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"It's not gonna be OK." She picks her head up to look at him with tear reddened eyes. His hand on her shoulder isn't enough for her. Without hesitation she wraps her arms around him, perhaps too tightly for his injuries.
"You're one man." Tasha says with a sob. She's not saying it to belittle Bucky's ability but she saw what one lone Skrull did to him. What if there are hundreds, even thousands? Tasha's shaking like a leaf just thinking about it. She lifts her head up to look in his eyes. "We should run." Tasha chokes out, hating herself for even thinking it, let alone suggesting it.
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Tasha's glad he's remaining level headed about this, because she just can't.
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His confidence is enough to make her snap out of it, at least slightly. "Yeah. We will." She agrees before he kisses her temple. Tasha quickly turns her head, pressing her lips on his. There's no near violent desperation to it this time. It's tender, comforting. It's what she needs right now and she hopes he feels the same way. "Thank you for being brave when I'm not."
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Bucky doesn’t feel brave. He feels confused and, yeah, scared. But he’s also an optimist by nature, and can’t believe this won’t work out.
Now that he has permission to kiss her (and isn’t being all but assaulted), he closes the distance between them to kiss her again.
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Even if he's not brave, the attitude is enough to make her less afraid and more like her usual confident self. So much so that she get a little more aggressive, wrapping her fingers over his shoulders so she can pull herself into his lap. "You're still gonna stay with me tonight, aren't you?"
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