"Then perhaps you should have said that. Don't be cute with me, Rogers. We all have our cards to play," she replied, an unfamiliar girlish fluttering welling up in her stomach. One that was proving frustratingly difficult to ignore. Natasha considered Steve more closely. Once again attempting to set aside thoughts that came out of nowhere. She'd grown accustomed to his Boy Scout ways, his path of the righteous attitude. Missed it even, when she had done her best to minimize the damage she knew Tony and his brashness would cause.
There was something in his eyes. She could feel the measure of his gaze, how it seemed to shift. She thought it was just her, the sudden realization, what a fine specimen he was, the width of his shoulders and the way his body could have been sculpted from marble and revered as art. The steadfastness of his ideals. The way he represented everything she wasn't, and yet didn't hold her past against her.
"I'd like it if we did," she agreed, hoping he didn't hear her breath quicken. She stepped back, sweat beading on her brow as her heart rate increased, not enough to be worrisome but enough for her to wish it would stop. She smiled back as she glanced down so her hair would cover her cheeks. "Something just us."