Natasha could cope with curses and magical forces outside of her control. She could handle her sister's moods, teenagers' hormones, and terrible stage moms. What she couldn't quite wrap her head around was the free time she had to think, to just be and exist and learn who she was when she wasn't a spy or an agent or an Avenger. Her second chance at The Station meant she could be a teacher, a sister, a friend, and a mother. Sort of. It was hard to mother someone grown.
She had a chance at life, at living life as she chose, so she wasn't questioning or overanalyzing the butterflies or the seemingly impulsive decisions she was making. She was leading with her heart here, with an honesty and openness she couldn't afford before arriving in San Francisco. There was more to it than that; she wasn't teasing when she'd said that Bucky was making it easy. The job made sense, and carpooling was her favorite part of the day. She didn't know when she caught feels, as Couslon said, but she had. It started with spikes of jealousy that she had to sit with.
And now she had butterflies as she pulled on her leather jacket over her black jeans and red tank top. She didn't know if this was going to be an actual date, or if they'd end up sparring, so her outfit was fitted and suggestive but easy for her to move in. Her lipstick matched her shirt, and she'd braided her hair in case they took his bike and she needed to wear a helmet.
For someone who wasn't overthinking, she'd put a lot of thought into her outfit, and how to look casual as she waited for Bucky in the lobby.
**
So. This was it. He wasn't sure what got into him just going for it the way he had, but she'd said yes and he wasn't going to question his luck. He knew he probably shouldn't have been nervous, considering he'd done this before- but that was the thing. She hadn't. She didn't know. And a part of him was worried he was taking advantage of it all. She had a right to choose her own path, right? She'd been through enough- but she also hadn't said no in the first place. He'd given her some distance, but she still flirted with him and now she'd said yes.
Probably best not to look a gifted horse in the mouth- or whatever the saying was.
He'd stepped off the elevator to see her in the lobby, smiling a little as he took in the sight. He was dressed casually himself- jeans, black t-shirt, black jacket. Then again, Bucky's style never seemed to change much. He was trying to keep it casual, worried that he might scare her away if he was too forward.
"Hey," he greeted her with a small nod, biting his tongue about saying how good she looked. Again, he was trying to not scare her away. "So, I was thinking I could drive or we could take my bike. Whatever you're comfortable with- parking can be a little weird with the car, though."
This was San Francisco on a Friday night, after all.
**
The only difference between this moment and nearly every morning since she started teaching was the context of her waiting for him to come out of the elevator. The context absolutely put her at real risk of being one of those women who swooned at a nice smile. It wasn't a bad thing, but she wasn't ready to feel silly. Still, she returned his smile, and unlike nearly every morning since she started teaching, she did not hide that she was checking him out. It was allowed now.
"Hey." Natasha pushed away from the wall. "Let's take the bike. It's a nice night for a ride." She would not entertain thoughts about the implications of being on the back of Bucky's bike, but her eyes shone with mirth and potential as she looked up at him. Choosing the bike was her way of pushing herself into the deep end. They wouldn't be able to talk while riding. She'd have to sit very close to him for safety. If there was a conversation to have, they could have it over food. "I'm ready if you are."
**
It didn't go past him that her eyes had traveled over him, and he had to stop himself from commenting about it. Still, there was a twist in his stomach as he realized what she was doing- a kind of giddy feeling he hadn't felt in a long time, and something he probably needed to be careful with. If this didn't work, he didn't want to ruin their friendship. That had always been a risk, though. He had always cared about his relationship with her and hadn't wanted to spoil it, but before they'd fallen into a relationship naturally.
Here? Well, it felt natural. But, it was also more complicated than ever.
He nodded at the preference to take the bike and led the way down to the garage where the vehicles were parked, leading her over to his Harley and then passing her a helmet from the wall before grabbing his own. He knew he didn't have to remind her about the rules of riding- Natasha was well versed. So, he just put his helmet on after zipping up his jacket and got on to wait for her, turning to add, "Just promise you don't break my ribs if I'm going too fast, alright?"
He knew better, though. Odds were she wouldn't mind- hell, odds were Natasha might be the kind to like it when he drove fast. But, it was better to warn her just in case.
**
Natasha laughed as she zipped her jacket. "A, there's no such thing as too fast, and b, your super soldier ribs can take it." She punctuated her teasing with a prod at his side. She trusted Bucky not to be stupid and only push the laws of the road to bending but not breaking. Donning her helmet, she braced herself on his shoulders to settle onto the seat behind him. She was more used to driving than riding, but as she slid forward, lacing her arms under his and around his middle, she could see the appeal.
He was sturdy against her front and under her hands, and she could make out the smell of his jacket and the underlying woodsy scent he always seemed to prefer. She felt safe. No matter which direction this night ended up following, that was a truth she would hold onto with both hands.
The engine roared to life in the way that only Harleys could, and she relaxed into the motions, allowing her mind to wander and muscles to take over. She kept her hold on Bucky firm but not tight, her hands flat against his stomach. There was one moment, going down a hill, that she gripped the front of his jacket, but she did not squeeze his ribs, and she eventually acclimated to the gravitational shift.
**
Truth be told, he wouldn't have minded if she squeezed too tight and broke anything because it was worth it to have her that close. Not that he let it spill as they started off. He was careful enough, picking up speed and expertly managing the twists and turns of the city- even on the hills. It was no surprise Bucky was an expert on a bike, and he knew these roads like the back of his hand now. Well, his real hand, anyway.
By the time they pulled up near the restaurant, he had noticed the grip and hadn't commented on it, though she might have felt his heart pick up speed just a little. He carefully got off after her, tugging off his helmet and propping it on the bike's handle as he waited for her to do the same, unzipping his jacket and nodding down the sidewalk to a little crowded restaurant with the word "Shogun" prominently painted in red above the door.
"See? Made it alive. Not even a gunfight." Not that he had anything to prove there. But it was small talk, anyway. He walked with her toward the restaurant, his hands finding his jacket pockets as they went before he opened the door to let her in first. The girl behind the podium looked up and Bucky signaled there were two of them before she showed them to a small booth.
It wasn't until the hostess had left that Bucky settled in before he started asking questions, unsure where to start. He felt like he knew more about her than she did about him, but that strange sensation hit and he wasn't sure whether or not he should let things slip. She'd need to know eventually, right? But he had to find the right time and place. Probably wasn't best to blow things up so early in whatever this was.
"So…can I ask a personal question?"
**
"Yet," she laughed. "Don't tempt the universe, Bucky. We might not be at The Station, but it can still hear us, and we're not asking for trouble." She thought about that for a second then shrugged. "Yet." Falling into step with him, Nat unzipped her pockets and checked that her phone and wallet were still there. They were, obviously, but she needed something to do with her hands and the nervous energy surrounding them. If the walk to the door had been longer, or if they'd had to wait before being seated, she would've done something a little desperate and very forward to ease some of the tension.
But they were seated across from each other in no time, and she peeled off her jacket while casting glances around the restaurant. She spotted the exits, counted the number of people, and clocked potential weapons. As comfortable as she was in her new life, that was an old habit that would never break.
"This place is–" she started speaking when Bucky did but stopped to let him finish. A slow smile spread across her face, and she leaned forward, propping an elbow on the table and resting her chin on her knuckles. "Personal questions before food? Hmm. Alright, but turnabout is fair play."
**
He noticed all of those little things. The way she fidgeted. How she looked around- the way she was eying certain locations, looking for entrances. Exits. Who might be a threat. It wasn't as if he didn't do the same things subconsciously, but he'd tried to let his guard down a little as he got used to civilian life. Not that he wasn't ready to grab the nearest knife to defend them both if it came to it- no, he spotted that about 5-10 yards away in the kitchen, and he knew that the tables could probably stop at least medium caliber ammunition if it came down to it.
But he kept that all to himself as he watched her closely, considering how to go about the question at first before leaning back. "When was the last time you did something like this?"
He knew he'd asked the other Natasha, but there were differences- theories that each universe was slightly varied. He tried not to let those implications linger then and there because he didn't want to spoil the evening. It was nice having her here again. Getting this second chance. And he really didn't want to blow it.
**
The glib answer was on the tip of her tongue; she'd had sushi a few weeks ago, and she almost told him so, but there was something in the way he was looking at her that made her pause. She leaned back, crossing her arms around her stomach, as if protecting her soft parts, and chewed on the inside of her cheek as she thought. If they weren't targets, they were convenient and willing. She'd teased Steve about getting out there, finding someone to go on dates with, but she never took her own advice.
"I couldn't tell you," she finally answered. The realization saddened her, but it strengthened her resolve to have a life. "My line of work, well it gave me trust issues, for one thing, and not just me trusting them. I didn't trust myself to be myself, and I didn't trust that I wouldn't get someone hurt. It also didn't really leave room for a personal life."
Natasha felt warm, even without her jacket. She was sure she wasn't blushing, because she could control that, but her core was warm, and her pulse was faster than it should've been for sitting in a booth of a busy restaurant. Belatedly, she realized it was her fight or flight mode. She was being vulnerable in her honesty, and her learned instincts told her to run. She breathed a laugh and visibly relaxed her shoulders. "Your question wasn't as personal as I was anticipating, but the answer was, and I think you knew that would happen. You keep your cards close to your chest, but I see you observing, and the flickers of knowing. So..." Natasha tilted her head to the side and mapped his face. "Same question."
**
Huh. He listened to the answer, watching her carefully. Studying her. That wasn't so different from what he'd before. Bucky just quietly nodded as he let it sink in and tried to keep what was spinning through his head to himself. Her body language said a lot. She was closing up. She wasn't as ready to be vulnerable as she let on. He couldn't blame her. Here was Bucky, poking and prodding in a way that she probably wasn't used to from him.
Flirting was easy, right? This was more than that. Vulnerability didn't come easy to either of them.
"I know the feeling," he confessed quietly, his real hand tapping a little on the table, fingers drumming almost unconsciously. Nervously. He tried to keep himself ‘exposed', though, not that he ever really was. He was being conscious of his actions, trying to not freeze up. Maybe to make her more comfortable. Maybe to try to show he was willing to be vulnerable around her.
"Maybe I did," he knew it would come up eventually. His voice almost sounded resigned to something. A moment passed before he dared meet her gaze. "Last time I did this was….a while ago. There was someone I got close to while we were here. Then she vanished, like some of us do." He was dropping hints alright. Staring at her intently, wondering how long it might take her to catch on if she hadn't expected already.
**
She was focused on Bucky, the tap of his finger, the way his throat moved and his pulse beat under his jaw. She appreciated that he wasn't coddling her or hiding his nerves even while he was trying to keep this light and open, like one would approach a feral cat. The mental math from his answer was basic addition, and two and two equaled four. She'd made the conscious decision not to read back in the network to learn about the other versions of herself. She'd wanted to make this life her own, and the main reason she jumped at the opportunity to teach high school drama was the draw of the mundanity of carpooling to such a normal job. It was the only reason she allowed a past version of her to determine her life, but she didn't want the rest of it to have any impact.
It did, obviously, in some ways, like the healing moments with her sister. Carol's comments about Bucky brooding when she left had a deeper meaning, though. He wasn't mourning just a friend. Propping her chin on her knuckles again, Natasha put her free hand on the table by his, palm up in invitation. "I called out to you when I was caged not just because you had keys to the school. Yelena can pick a lock. The keys don't matter.
"I knew you would understand exactly what I was going through at that moment. What it would mean to have my choice taken away. What the panic would do to me, I trusted you with that." She paused there, not for dramatic effect or because she wanted him to suffer, but because she was collecting her emotions. She took two, slow deep breaths before continuing. "I've been here for almost ten weeks. I've flirted with you. I was jealous because of you. Through everything, all of it, you let me come to my own conclusions." Her smile was touched, affectionate. Unfiltered. "Thank you."
**
Cards were on the table alright. And he was studying as she calculated it all together. Yeah, she'd picked up on the hints. Not like anyone was really trying to hide things from her in the first place, but there was enough there to pick up on it. Bucky had tried to avoid her- not enough to make it obvious, but he also didn't want her to feel like he expected anything or wanted anything other than friendship.
But, things happened. Just like before. It was like they were drawn to each other and even he didn't know why. They never had a chance like that in their own universe, what was it about here?
He nodded slowly when she talked about the cage, his jaw clenching at the memory- not because it hurt him, but he knew how it affected her. That locked away feeling was always going to stir something in both of them. Neither of them did well with being trapped or controlled. Case in point. His real hand reached forward, covering hers, feeling the warmth of her palm. It was comforting. Skin to skin. Something he hadn't felt in a long time. He tried not to smile too much, until she mentioned being jealous. And an eyebrow quirked up as he stared at her, trying to think back to when that could have been. What did Natasha ever have to be jealous of?
"Yeah…well, I didn't want to ever pressure you. We both know how it is to feel trapped. And you deserve the right to choose your future. I'm not gonna be the guy to hold you down." Still, it felt lighter somehow. Getting to touch her. Knowing the truth was out there. It felt freeing.
**
"I mean, if you play your cards right, you could be." Her smile grew sharp and a little wicked, but the squeeze she gave his hand was nothing but affection. "I won't ask for details, and I won't compare myself to myself." She shook that weird sentence away. "Context matters. You wouldn't have asked me to dinner in this context if you didn't want to, and I wouldn't have said yes if I felt pressured." Natasha put her other hand over his and leaned closer. "You did make it easy, though, by being you and by letting me be me."
An impulsive thought entered her head, one very closely related to the desperate thought to ease the tension earlier, but the server arrived before she could voice it. Natasha stifled the frustrated sigh. It wasn't their fault, and, if she were honest with herself, the interruption was a good thing. They had time; she didn't have to skip any steps, for herself, at least. Bucky was going backwards a little, but she appreciated that he seemed willing to do so.
After hurriedly ordering, and with their server occupied with other tables, Natasha tapped Bucky's shin with her toe. "You got more questions for me? You already know how I take my coffee, my preferred cocktail, and that my favorite food is food. Is there anything else we should cover? Like why I got jealous, since I brought it up. But I'll only tell you about it if you ask me nicely."
**
It was all too real, the way she was looking at him made his heart stop in his chest and he could have sworn if he just leaned over the table he could- damnit. The server came over and Bucky cleared his throat, letting it drop. He ordered his usual after Natasha had a chance to go and tried to settle back in as if nothing had changed- even if it felt like everything had.
Her toe touched his leg and got his attention. He looked back at her, considering the questions before smirking a little wickedly himself. "I also know what side of the bed you prefer and whether or not you snore." That was a tease, holding back some other more private information for now. "So, why would you get jealous? I'm not gonna lie, Nat. I haven't had eyes for any other girl or guy in a long time, so I'm definitely curious about who you think it could have been."
There was an opening there if she went for it, but he was holding back a little information here and there. How much did she want to know now? And who could have possibly been a threat?
**
The trap was not hidden. She saw it plain as day. She could've gone right around it and not looked back. But there was something heady about being known at such a personal level that she sauntered into it with her eyes open. Sitting up straighter, Natasha adopted a prim tone and air. "The side closest to the door, always, and I don't snore. I breathe with intent." The primness was gone with her laugh, and she reached across the table for his hand again. She liked that she could do that, hold his hand, anchor both of them through such a simple touch. When he'd been tethered to Cher, and she'd taken them ice cream and movies, the urge to comfort through touch had been strong, but she'd kept her hands to herself. Now she felt like she had permission, to an extent.
"It wasn't something you said to someone else." She'd opened herself up to this, and she wasn't going to back out. But it was a truth that felt silly in hindsight and with him looking at her the way he was. "It's a blip on the network. Other, more important things have happened, but it's stuck in my head like a bad earworm, and you probably won't even remember."
Natasha took a deep breath, preparing herself for the sting of ripping off a bandaid. "Marisa Coulter called you James. At first, I thought she was talking about giving my kid, who's not a kid, strong liquor, which caused new feelings in that context. Then I realized she meant you, and I had to walk away from my phone so I wouldn't throw it. It felt...intimate for her to use your given name instead of the nickname everyone uses. Intimate on a level that I wanted."
**
Bucky chuckled at the comment about being close to the door. That was a constant ‘battle' they had, though he always relented and just slept with his chest to her back so they could both see. It was clearly a habit they had both grown accustomed to, the need to be ready for a fight in an instant. The snoring, though? He wasn't going to comment on that right then and there because he knew better than to test her. This was relatively new and he didn't want to piss her off just yet.
Marisa? Bucky tried to think back, barely remembering the conversation she was talking about. He had to let out a little laugh and shake his head, looking around a bit as he considered why she'd be jealous. "Trust me, there was no competition there. I mean, she's attractive, yeah, just…not you. That makes me kind of pathetic, doesn't it?" He shrugged and smiled at her. "Like I said, no contest." But the part about using his name…. His hand squeezed hers and he leaned closer over the table, looking her dead in the eye. "I wouldn't mind it if you did call me that. It always felt more intimate. Like you were defying everyone else. And…honestly, it was kinda hot."
**
She wouldn't tease him for that. It stroked her ego knowing that he was waiting for her, comparing other people to her. It was also humbling to know that was what he did. While she wouldn't compare herself to her past selves, she wanted to be worthy of his admiration. "Pathetic isn't the word I'd use for it. Hopeful? Absolutely. Romantic?" Natasha thought about that for a moment, considering if she would think it was if she was an observer of their situation rather than a participant. "A little, but I think that might be the dopamine."
Grinning, she mirrored his movements and met him near the center of the table. The warmth in her core spread up her chest and into her cheeks. She couldn't have stopped the blush if she'd tried. With her free hand on his forearm, she pulled him a little closer. "Well, then, James, you have about thirty seconds to kiss me before our drinks arrive. The window won't open again until after we eat."
**
He had always known he had it bad for her. Bucky hadn't ever really been in love before all of this- before the war, nothing was ever serious, and after? Well, that had been awkward enough. He'd tried dating, which had turned into one disaster after another. He had almost given up on the idea, and then love found him and all but knocked him off his feet.
It was cheesy. It was corny. Steve would never let him live it down, but it was the truth. And after she'd disappeared, he had really tried to get past it. Fate didn't seem to have the same idea.
James didn't need to be told twice. He leaned over and pressed his mouth to hers, a little hesitantly at first, feeling that familiar spark- he'd missed this. Her. Her taste, her lips, and he would have loved to keep going but he also knew that making out across the table was likely frowned upon by the wait staff, and he really ought to keep a good reputation at this place if they ever wanted to go back.
With some reluctance, he pulled back, grinning in spite of himself and muttering. "Yeah, we're definitely doing that again after we eat."
**
She knew the butterflies that erupted in her stomach was her body's way of coping with every new piece of information she was pulling in. She knew the science behind attraction, the names of the chemicals that were being released by her brain, the reasons why she was so warm, why she could pinpoint every place their skin touched.
That understanding didn't matter, nor did all of her training in the art of seduction. It didn't matter that this was her first kiss from him while he'd probably kissed some version of her hundreds of times. It didn't even matter that they weren't alone in that restaurant or that their server would spot them. All that mattered was that his pulse under her fingers raced at the same speed as hers.
As with everything with James--she could think of him as James, but only for herself, only to really drive him wild--this was easy. It felt right. She knew it was impossible that past selves left an imprint for her to follow, but her instincts about him always felt right. She didn't want him to pull away, but she was smiling when he did. Seconds later, they had drinks from a smirking server. "Next time, we should take the car. We can't exactly go parking on a Harley."
**
Bucky had sat back in the seat as the drinks arrived, giving the server the eye even though he knew they'd both earned that smirk and reached for his glass. Her comment was met with a cough and he looked at her with a chuckle, shaking it off. "Jesus, Nat. Have some class. We're adults. I have an apartment we can do that in," he sipped his beer and quickly added. "I mean, we might have to sneak past a 16 year old girl, but that shouldn't be too hard."
Not true. Enid was observant and would probably catch them in the act. Maybe the car wasn't such a bad idea.
He put his glass down after a sip, adding with a hesitant sigh. "Besides, I'm the idiot that planned a meet up tonight after this. It would probably look bad if I didn't show up to my own thing."
**
"What?" Natasha was all innocence, arched brows and open smile. Chocolate would not melt in her mouth, but her eyes glimmered with laughter and naughty thoughts. "I'm all class, James Barnes, and I know that parking only leads to second base." She sipped her house sake through the little stirring straw, biting down on it as she grinned. "At least according to every movie except for Grease. You should really get your mind out of the bedroom."
Laughing, she leaned back in her seat and crossed her legs under the table, and rested her foot against his calf. "I don't think we have to sneak, but if we do, just for fun, I think the teenage werewolf with keen hearing is safer than my former-spy sister who may or may not have my room bugged." She'd warned Yelena that things could happen in her room that her sister didn't want to hear or know about, but she hadn't actually searched for listening devices. If they were there, they gave Yelena peace of mind that Natasha hadn't disappeared in the night. She would never begrudge her sister comfort after everything.
"You're not an idiot, though we should probably think of how to rebrand the whole thing. You made a backup plan in case this turned out to be a dinner between friends and not a date, though it can be both." She chewed on the inside of her cheek again, thinking. She'd had dates, but not first dates that would lead to second dates and so on. "I want us to still be friends even as we step into romantic. I don't want this to become just physical. I like the boring. I like existing in the same space as people I care for without feeling the need to entertain or even talk. I still like adventure and going out, but mostly, I just want to be. I am learning that one of my love languages is touch, so cuddling is going to happen, but spooning doesn't have to lead to forking." She laughed at her own joke. "You are important to me, with or without the kissing."
**
Bucky opened his mouth and then closed it again before responding, realizing he'd been had. He wasn't going to argue- no, he knew better. He just smirked back at her, accepting that she was having fun. He was glad she was having fun. And he didn't necessarily expect anything like that from this night, but he missed the flirting and teasing too much to let it end now. She didn't seem offended, especially the way her foot was meeting his leg.
"Yeah, but let's not be obvious for Enid's sake. And ours. I really don't need her listening in on anything that personal," Bucky shook his head, trying not to even dwell on it a little bit. Enid was practically his daughter at this point- or close enough to it. He figured she might prefer to keep that boundary, too. Though, she was preferable to getting caught by Yelena. "Good point. I'd be lucky if I woke up without a knife to my throat the first time."
Not that Yelena would mean it. She might do it just because she found it funny. Or maybe she'd make them pancakes? Bucky could never tell with that girl.
Listening to what Natasha wanted was more comforting than she could ever really know for Bucky. He'd always liked the boring. The movie nights, the sick days, the getting frustrated over who was supposed to pick up the milk from the store. Little, everyday things. But he tried not to make it obvious, playing along and nodding quietly as he pretended to consider it - right up until she mentioned that word.
"Forking? What the hell is forking?"
When she had finished, he leaned over and covered her hand on the table with his own, looking her dead in the eye. "You're not gonna lose me, Romanoff. Believe me. Even if we're just friends, you mean too much to me to ever get rid of me that easily. And, you have no idea how nice it is to hear you say all of that. Boring is good. I'm not here for friends with benefits, either. I could probably have found that a long time ago if I wanted."
Shit, should he have admitted that? Bucky realized how it sounded and sighed. "You know what I mean. I'm just saying, that's not really what I'm looking for. That, and I'm too old to stay up late or party these days, anyway."
**
He softened subtly when he spoke of Enid, his fondness for the girl showed in the crinkle of his eyes even if he wasn't outright smiling. It was a tell that Natasha knew how to find in anyone, but spotting it in him made her warm all over again. It wasn't her fight or flight; she didn't want to fight or run from this feeling. She wasn't ready to follow that string yet, either. Her instincts were leading her in one direction, and she would passively follow that string to its conclusion in her own time.
Looking somber, she grabbed his fork and placed it points down on top of hers so the tines interlocked. "Forking. You know, the reason the dish ran away with the spoon." It was a bad joke, but between the visual of their cutlery, the stupid nursery rhyme that popped into her head, and the bemused look on Bucky's face, her serious expression dissolved with a laugh.
She sobered again when he put his hand over hers and gave him her full attention. "I know what you mean." Turning her hand in his, Nat caressed his palms with gentle strokes. "I've seen how many of our coworkers look at you. Especially the English teachers. You check all of their Heathcliff and Mr. Darcy fantasy boxes." Finding his pulse with her fingertips, she leaned closer, resting her chin on her propped up free hand and simply held his gaze for a moment. "You're not losing me, either. I made a promise to do everything in my power to stay, and I intend to keep it. Getting to know and be with you is the icing on the cake of my second chance."
**
Bucky would be lying if said that taking care of kids didn't change him. It had. The responsibility of being in charge of a group of kids in his job- and then getting ‘stuck' with two of them, he'd had to take care of someone other than himself. Or Steve. It gave him a lease on life, so to speak. And it helped when things had gotten tough.
As Natasha teased with the forks, Bucky's face went from bewildered to slightly amused, chuckling and shaking his head. "Damn, now I know you're flirting with me, Romanoff." He found it cute, at least. But that kind of thing came naturally for her, and Bucky was easy enough to win over when it came to red-heads.
"Right. Is that why they always stop talking when I go into the teacher's lounge?" He was joining back, cocking his head a little and adding. "Just as long as you don't hear what the science department says about you." It was his turn to tease, grinning and squeezing her hand slightly.
"You better not go anywhere. Or else, I'm just gonna have to follow you next time."
**
"If you're realizing just now that I'm flirting with you, I'm rustier than I thought." She didn't mind, and she was happy to practice flirting with him whenever she got the chance. Her new goal was to make him blush, either around the shells of his ears or the apples of his cheeks. She'd even take a flush up his neck as long as it was a happy response from something she said.
"No. They go quiet when you enter the teacher's lounge because they don't want you to know about the spicy book club. I keep telling them we should find a different place to meet, but they like the excitement of discussing lurid books in a semi-public setting, and who am I to take away their fun." She'd been roped into joining when she'd accidentally walked in on them debating the pros and cons of tentacles. The books were mind candy; easy to read and fun to laugh over if you could get past some of the pedestrian writing. "The science department knows I have an in with Tony and Bruce, and they all want to be best friends. It has nothing to do with me."
She spotted their server again, and reluctantly released Bucky's hand so there was room for their dishes. Her heart clenched over the last thing he said, but she waited till they were alone again, her hands busy pouring soy sauce into a little dish, before she spoke. "I haven't gone looking for details of what happened after. All I need to know is that it worked. Based on how Yelena was when I arrived, I know it did. Which means, James Barnes." She knew it was rude, but she pointed her chopsticks at him, "Don't follow me. Live whatever life you choose. You've earned and deserve it."
**
"It's definitely not you. Maybe I just forgot what flirting looked like," he smirked. Okay, far from it for Bucky Barnes. He knew exactly what he was doing, but playing ignorant had gotten him somewhere in the past and Natasha was a safe person to tease.
As for the blushing, wouldn't be hard. Not when it came to her.
"Technically, I have an in with them too, and I don't see them checking out my ass when I walk into a room," he snorted and reached for his water to take a drink. Not that he blamed them, but the science nerds weren't the most discrete. Bucky had given more than a few warning looks at them in the halls in the past, and it was starting up again with Natasha's return.
The food arrived, and he reluctantly let her slip away. He started reaching for sauce, grabbing his chopsticks and looking right at her when she tried to tell him not to. "How many times has telling me what to do worked in the past?" He was as much serious about the whole thing as he was joking.
**
"Technically, I'm the one who's outwardly easier to butter up, and of course you don't see it! You're walking away. In the slacks you insist on wearing to work. That leave very little to the imagination." She unfocused her eyes, staring into the mid-distance as she spoke slower with every word, as if her imagination was stealing her away to the teacher's lounge, to the very scene she described. She shook herself and looked apologetic. "Sorry. I'll stop objectifying you."
Natasha shrugged. She felt simultaneously wistful and sad. "I don't know. There are things I know about you because I've seen your files. There are things I know from Steve. There are things I've learned about you in the short time I've been here. And there are things I seem to know about you intuitively. But I don't know how many times you've heard me tell you to be kinder to yourself. I don't know how many times I've tried to out-stubborn you. The counters are lower for me than they are for you. I don't see it as a disadvantage, but I can't help feeling like I have time to make up for."
**
He was grinning outright, now, trying to think back to the slacks she was talking about. He was definitely going to buy another pair or two of those if they really had that kind of effect. "No, objectify away. I don't mind." Bucky was grinning knowingly, years off of his face and his eyes as he teased her and flirted outright.
The smile faded a little as she admitted to not knowing that part- at least, not remembering like he did. And he slowly nodded, watching her after preparing his sauce. "Well, guess we're just gonna have to catch you up then, huh? For the record, the answer is a lot. You like to tell me what to do. Just like I try to stop you from doing things that could get you hurt, and you always counter with a point I can't really argue with." He sighed, reaching for the chopsticks again.
"I almost forgot how frustrating it was to have a girlfriend who was so much smarter than me."
**
Natasha laughed. She'd been in the process of making other plans to test whether his ego could get any more inflated when he beat her to the punch and asked her out. It might not have been the setting or even the scenario she was aiming for, but science was science, and if he was okay with being objectified, and if it made him smile like that at her, she was happy to stroke his ego. "Is it that you don't mind being objectified in general, or is it that you like the idea of being objectified by me specifically? If it's the former, you should know that Deborah wants to know if a quarter would bounce off your ass, and Karen often sighs and says, 'if only I were a younger woman'." She clutched invisible pearls and mimicked Karen's sigh. "I haven't told her your actual age."
She absorbed all of that, nodding as she popped a whole salmon nigiri in her mouth. It sounded like them, even before the date. The wasabi between the fish and the rice hit the back of her throat in the same moment his last comment hit her ears. Choking on her food right then would've been terrible timing, so she held her breath as she worked to swallow the suddenly sticky rice. Her eyes watered, though, and she coughed lightly as she recaught her breath. Sipping her drink, she studied his face. "Run that last part by me again."
**
It was Bucky's turn to cough when she started going on about Deborah and Karen, clearing his throat and glad he didn't have a mouth full of sushi just then. His ears had gone red, at least, and he shook his head. "Definitely a you thing, though in my younger days, it might have been a little bit of a different story." In his younger days, he would have probably loved it.
Now, he felt old. He liked the idea of settling down, oddly enough. "Besides, they're not my types." He was glad that it was his turn to catch her off guard, though. He caught her reaction and wasn't sure whether to be amused or nervous. Both. The answer was, that he felt both.
"...Or not? Sorry, it just slipped out," he tried to play it off. "Date? Date who is smarter than me. How's that?" Nice save, Jackass.
**
Oh, he could still blush, and she enjoyed that entirely. She would use her new-found powers for good, only bringing up the other teachers' ogling sometimes instead of daily. Her ogling would be less than subtle, since he was okay with it.
Natasha weighed both words, for themselves and as titles. The latter seemed casual, in the moment and more temporary. The former held more weight and felt more long term, and it probably should've scared her with this being the first date–for her. But it wasn't his first date with her. "No. I think you had it right the first time. I'm in, and life's too short to mince words and worry about labels and definitions anyway." She tapped her toes against his leg. "I'll be your girlfriend, James Barnes, if you ask me nicely."
**
Yeah, this wasn't going in the direction he thought it would. Some might say they were moving fast, but it didn't feel that way to him. Was it fair to her to expect any of this? It was Natasha here. She had her autonomy, he knew better than to question her choices.
She seemed to trust him. It had always baffled him how much trust she put in him, all things considered, and yet here they were. And he was staring at her agape, weighing how to respond before he slowly smiled and looked down. His chopsticks played with his food before he cleared his throat and stared back at her with a half-grin. "Alright. Natasha Romanoff...will you please do me the honor of being my girlfriend?" He added after a pause. "I'd get down on my knee, but I figured you didn't want something that dramatic."
**
There was a tightness in her jaw, a reminder that she hadn't done a lot of smiling with her whole face lately. Small, teasing grins and smirks, absolutely, but the full beam, ear to ear smiling had been rare enough that it hurt a little, but it was a pain she embraced. "It's definitely too soon for the knee bit, but I will absolutely be your girlfriend." She didn't want to share or look further. Her instincts told her this was right, and they'd never steered her wrong before. They'd work out their pattern and rhythm as they went. She would learn the secrets her past selves already had the privilege of knowing, and maybe she'd surprise him by being a little different than what he knew. All that mattered, here on this first date, was that she was looking forward to all of it.