Shoot, [ faux surprised. ] I gotta get new material.
[ as if the romanoff and wilson double act doesn’t roast bucky with such regularity and precision, it’s a miracle he hasn’t been stained red permanently.
something in her chest swells, when he lets her keep his arm hostage. she takes it as an invitation to fold the fabric back at the elbow, so gravity doesn’t undo her hard work.
once satisfied, natasha releases him only to hold out her hands expectantly — accepting both the wine, which she swigs and sets on the floor, then his other hand, which gets the same careful treatment. he hid himself all night for her, didn’t he? only fair that he can revert back to himself in this space, since he seems to have a better idea of who bucky barnes is since she left. maybe since she came back, too.
her expression shifts, sharpening in the low lamplight, so she can study his reaction while letting him know that’s exactly what she’s doing. can’t turn that part of her brain off. doesn’t want to. a delicate balance, one she miscalculated years ago, the last time she’d tried for closeness of a specific, elusive kind, with banner. that moment passed, but this one keeps flickering in front of her: barnes came back to find her on vormir. keeps coming back, present tense, when she calls. sometimes, when she doesn’t. whenever yelena isn’t there in his stead, actually, as if they’re both working the same op. ]
[ her voice drops, slow and even. ] Ever hear the one about the girl, who wants to thank some guy, [ blowing out an exhale. ] for helping her out when he didn’t have to — [ her lashes lower, ostensibly focused on the delicate task of turning back his sleeve without catching the fabric on his metal arm. ] — but doesn’t know how to do it without making a joke?
[ her eyes lift to find his, and she lets her features loosen. see, natasha is trying out this new thing, where instead of waiting for someone to almost die, or for the point where she’s sacrificing herself, cast over that jutting ledge into dark, darker, darkest — she shows the people who matter that she cares, with her words and actions beyond teasing. it might be too late to be that clear with rogers and stark, but if anyone knew how much she loved her chosen family, they did.
and there are a lot of good people left in her corner. the widow programme isn’t bucky’s past, his fight, his sisters, so his help tonight is significant, in some way. she just needs to decide if (and how) that changes their routine. ]
no subject
[ as if the romanoff and wilson double act doesn’t roast bucky with such regularity and precision, it’s a miracle he hasn’t been stained red permanently.
something in her chest swells, when he lets her keep his arm hostage. she takes it as an invitation to fold the fabric back at the elbow, so gravity doesn’t undo her hard work.
once satisfied, natasha releases him only to hold out her hands expectantly — accepting both the wine, which she swigs and sets on the floor, then his other hand, which gets the same careful treatment. he hid himself all night for her, didn’t he? only fair that he can revert back to himself in this space, since he seems to have a better idea of who bucky barnes is since she left. maybe since she came back, too.
her expression shifts, sharpening in the low lamplight, so she can study his reaction while letting him know that’s exactly what she’s doing. can’t turn that part of her brain off. doesn’t want to. a delicate balance, one she miscalculated years ago, the last time she’d tried for closeness of a specific, elusive kind, with banner. that moment passed, but this one keeps flickering in front of her: barnes came back to find her on vormir. keeps coming back, present tense, when she calls. sometimes, when she doesn’t. whenever yelena isn’t there in his stead, actually, as if they’re both working the same op. ]
[ her voice drops, slow and even. ] Ever hear the one about the girl, who wants to thank some guy, [ blowing out an exhale. ] for helping her out when he didn’t have to — [ her lashes lower, ostensibly focused on the delicate task of turning back his sleeve without catching the fabric on his metal arm. ] — but doesn’t know how to do it without making a joke?
[ her eyes lift to find his, and she lets her features loosen. see, natasha is trying out this new thing, where instead of waiting for someone to almost die, or for the point where she’s sacrificing herself, cast over that jutting ledge into dark, darker, darkest — she shows the people who matter that she cares, with her words and actions beyond teasing. it might be too late to be that clear with rogers and stark, but if anyone knew how much she loved her chosen family, they did.
and there are a lot of good people left in her corner. the widow programme isn’t bucky’s past, his fight, his sisters, so his help tonight is significant, in some way. she just needs to decide if (and how) that changes their routine. ]