It wasn't that she wouldn't go - she would if he asked - it's just that there's no win at the end of that road. Maybe, just maybe, one day the world will forget that the Winter Soldier ever existed, and James Barnes can come out of the shadows and try for a normal life, but Natasha doubted that day would arrive any time soon.
Although she'd do her best to hurry it along, if she could.
Bucky's suggestion was a good one; she was starting to get a little hungry, herself. So Natasha soaked up all of the (admittedly surprising) affection that she could, then slowly sat up, reaching for the menu on the coffee table.
"I'm good with food." She settled back against Bucky, holding up the menu for them both to see. "Anything look good."
It's why he doesn't ask. Why he wouldn't. He has a feeling she'd go if he'd ask and he doesn't want that for her. He knows who he is, what his life is. There's no good end to this story, and so maybe one day she'll have to let go. Not reach out and find him again- but for now. At least for now.
He soaks it up too, wanting her as close as he can get her. It's surprising, yet welcomed. He wants to memorize it all. The way she feels against him, the way she smells, the soft way she lets his fingers graze over him. He lets himself feel it all for the first time in a long time, so even when she pulls away to grab the menu, he's smiling.
"I'm always here for breakfast food. You know it." He points at the menu where the omelets are. "Or the cheese plate we said, yeah? Let's get both."
"Breakfast food is the best food," Natasha agreed, smiling absently at a memory of pancakes back in Brooklyn. "The cheese plate sounds good, too. Ooh, especially since it has grapes and strawberries." Despite her sinister reputation, and affinity for all the unhealthy junk food, the former Black Widow did, in fact, enjoy many types of fresh fruit.
"And get a lot," she added, skimming the pictures embedded in the menu's listing. "I know just how much you super soldiers put away." Metabolisms like coal furnaces, the both of them. Natasha had been fascinated as she watched Rogers inhale almost an entire lunch buffet at a local diner back in New York, post-mission. (Thankfully, Stark had bought the place out for that particular afternoon.)
"Breakfast food is the best food. Hard to go wrong with any of it." He hasn't had pancakes since then but he remembers those fondly, even despite how skittish he was that very first time they sat together.
He can put away a lot, but being a HYDRA super soldier, his appetite was always shot. They gave him the nutrients he needed in different ways, and he still often forgets to eat. "I'll get a lot, but I'm not a big eater, so you better be ready." To eat the bigger portion of it. Though maybe now that they're on vacation he can work on that.
"I will," Natasha promised. "And while you order, I think I'm gonna go for a shower. Get the travel dust off." Giving Bucky's knee a comfortable pat, she left the couch and headed into the bedroom, quickly organizing her luggage before heading into the bathroom.
The amenities were pleasantly nice, and she didn't feel too guilty about lingering in the shower. About half an hour later, she emerged back into the main room, slowly rubbing a towel over her wet hair. T-shirt, cotton shorts, and toe socks completed her ensemble, along with the damp curls that peeked beneath the towel.
Coming out from beneath the cloth, Natasha located her companion and offered a warm smile. "How much did you order?" she chuckled. "Didn't think it'd take so long to get here."
He gives her a small smile and a nod. He can feel the shift, but it's alright. This is how they are. Moments of absoluteness before they have to reel it back in. He's feeling it too.
The space doesn't feel the same this time as it did last time, though.
This time when she comes out of the shower he's standing by the TV, trying to figure out the remote again. His attention is full on her when she appears there in this very casual looking ensemble. She looks so comfortable- in her clothes, in her skin. Bucky wonders if he can ever get there. She's so- a lot of things that he isn't going to think about right now.
"I did." He clears his throat as he looks away- back at the remote, and to hid behind his hair. "It was really busy downstairs so. I'm sure they're backed up."
It was one of her talents; being comfortable in her own skin wherever she was. It had taken her a while, but eventually she'd learned how to compartmentalize. She still sometimes had problems finding herself, but that was better than...being no one at all.
Spying the remote in Bucky's hand, Natasha had to chuckle, combing back her hair with her fingers. "I only recognize a few of the words, but that's the power button, at least. Should we turn it on?"
Bucky's not there yet. He still feels like no one at all. There are times though, with Natasha that he feels like he might be finding something of himself again. She makes it easier.
The remote is apparently universal, but it has a whole lot of buttons that he's never seen in his life. He nods. "You know, back in my day we just walked up to the monitor and turned it on right there. All the dials exactly where they need to be and they all did what they were supposed to."
Oh god. He sounds like a grumpy old man, doesn't he.
But at least it takes his mind off of Natasha in her casual outfit.
She can't help but laugh at his grouchy consternation. "Steve had the same problem, don't worry. So did Banner, come to think of it. He hadn't been out of his lab in years, so all of these new entertainment electronics were beyond him. Including basic cable."
Pressing the power button turned on the TV, and it flashed to life, immediately bringing up a local station. Naturally, the language was Romanian, but Natasha eventually figured out how to turn on the English closed captions.
Just as they were deciding on what to watch, a polite knock echoed on the suite door. At first, Natasha froze, then automatically slid behind Barnes' left arm, but a moment later blinked, murmuring, "...it's probably just room service."
"Oh, well- that's... good to know." He doesn't know what basic cable means, but he's assuming it's something like trash panda chic, so he'll find out soon enough.
Turning the TV on he could handle- it's the rest that got him, so he raises an eyebrow, waiting for her to figure out the rest, as if she's struggling as much as he is- before the knock at the door.
It sets off all the alarms in his head as well and he's tense, shifting his arm out just slightly as she moves behind it. He's ready to fight, but then she reminds him... room service.
"Right. Yeah." He should get that, but he's more used to sliding back into the shadows whenever anyone else appears, ready for attack. That's not what they're here for though, and he has to figure out how to be a person again- which is what moves him toward the door, still on alert as he pulls it open, but all that's there is a smiling man speaking to him in Romanian about the food, and how he hopes they enjoy their stay. Bucky does remember tipping at least, and then the man is gone and they have their food.
Even knowing that it was their food order, Natasha had still automatically tensed. And even in this simple outfit, she was hardly weaponless. But thankfully, the cart was delivered without incident, and once the door closed, Natasha turned on the light in their small kitchenette and refilled their glasses from earlier.
"Smells good," she remarked, leaning elbows on the small island as Bucky brought the cart over. "Worth the wait, at least."
She naturally went for the scrambled eggs and sausage first, seasoned with spices not typical in the States. She also nibbled from the cheese plate, going for the grapes and "homemade" mozzarella bites before anything else. "Mmmm..." An approving rumble. "'s really good."
It's how they are. How they'll always be, he imagines. He wants to move away from that kind of thinking though. He just wishes he wasn't still the kind of weapon anyone could wield with the right words.
Now that that ordeal is over and the door is closed and it's just the two of them again, he can try to relax again. With the covers off he just watches her dig in for a moment or two before he goes for it too, trying some of the vegetable omelette.
He loves these spices- the food is good here, at least there's that.
Mostly though, he's just enjoying the way she's enjoying it. "You're really enjoying this, huh."
Mouth full, Natasha just nodded. After she washed down that bite with a swig of ginger ale, she touched her lips with a napkin and chuckled. "I am, yeah. I've always been a fan of good food." Mainly because she'd grown up with its lack, but she didn't make that remark; no need in killing their amiable mood.
"One of the things I've always loved about traveling everywhere is getting to try the local cuisines. Not the chain restaurants or any of those places," her nose wrinkled, then smoothed, "but the real spots, the 'mom-n-pop' shops, the ethnic cafes, the street food stalls...those food havens."
She scooped another bite of eggs with a piece of toast and fig jam. "These eggs are really good. I think they season them with dill and green onions." She built another bite on toast and held it out. "Taste?"
"The mom-n-pop shops are the rage. All we really had in Brooklyn for a long time." He watches her eat a moment longer before he eats more of his eggs and then goes for the cheese. It's good. Better than what he's used to in the small town by the docks.
He hesitates for a moment when she holds her fork out for a taste, but then he figures why not, leaning in to take the bite from her. He would have never added the jam. "It's really good. You're absolutely right. I think it tastes better like this, though."
Natasha grinned when Bucky took the bite, stupidly tickled that he'd even done so. This was strangely...domestic, sitting here sharing breakfast with each other. And it was...oddly nice, when she thought about it. Granted, it couldn't last, but it was nice to pretend, if only for a little while.
"How's the cheese?" She reached over for a different type, breaking off a small piece and popping it in her mouth. "Ooh, this one has spices in it. Nice."
She's definitely getting him to do things he wasn't doing before. Stepping outside of his comfort zone at least a little bit. At least with Natasha, she knows what's safe and what isn't. How far out they can actually go. That helps a lot.
It helps him ease into this, whatever it is. He doesn't remember what domestic feels like anymore.
"It's delicious," he eats a little bit of it too, but mostly he just watches her eat. He seems to be enjoying that too. "I love how excited you get about food."
Natasha returned to her eggs and toast, adding a few grapes here and there. "Well," she replied, taking a swallow of ginger ale, "I know what it's like to go without, so I try not to take it for granted." A mild toss of her curls followed the words, but she refused to dwell on the darkness in her past. Not now, anyway.
"And Stark had access to the gourmet stuff, or so he said. I'd have been just as happy with a box of Lucky Charms over some of the stuff he had catered." She feigned a shudder. "I actually draw the line at eating snails and fish eggs, even if it is expensive." 0
"Yeah, I get that." Recovering his memories has been a slow process, but he's managing. He remembers his his mother and how hard she had to work after their father died. He had a sister.
While he was the Winter Soldier they gave him the nutrients they felt he needed. He didn't enjoy food. He couldn't. He remembers that too. But like Natasha, he doesn't want to get into the dark thoughts.
"Fish eggs... damn. My ma- she used to make eggs and flapjacks. I remember that."
"Right. Caviar is gross, I don't care what anyone says." She actually shuddered this time, in memory. "Pepper tried to get me to eat it, but I always managed to duck out on those elaborate spreads.
But this," she gestured at their small table, "is very good." Natasha went for more of the fruit, biting into a plump strawberry and sighing happily. "Mmm, the best. We should check out the local places, too. I'm sure they'll be as good as this, if not better."
"I don't think I'd ever eat caviar. Way too fancy for me- and it's pointless as a food. Doesn't fill you up." Pepper. He can't quite place her, but he thinks maybe she's connected to Stark since he was the one with these dishes.
It's nice to remember his mother, but he tucks that aside for another time. They're far too into the food right now. "I could live on this alone, I think. But- yeah. We can check out the local places."
He tries to be casual about it. He knows they need to get out there. He doesn't want to keep them holed up in here. "Maybe we can walk around a little tonight? Maybe they've got it all set up nice at night."
"That sounds like a good idea. A walk would help shake off the jet lag."
So, after dinner and after a quick but thorough shower and a change of clothes, Natasha emerged in jeans, a comfortable sweater and short jacket, pocketing the room key and holding out a hand for Bucky to take as they headed downstairs for the "night life" and whatever the rest of the evening had to offer.
The hotel, at least, was getting crowded; the bar and restaurant no doubt busy until closing time, but thankfully it wasn't far to the main plazas and city markets. "Ten blocks," Natasha mused, checking the map on her phone. "Think we can make it there and back again?"
The time it takes Natasha to change and get ready, Bucky tries to get his head into this. It was his suggestion, so it's only fair he works through his paranoia about being out and about like this. He's always cagey these days, when headed to a new place. He feels he has every reason and right to be.
But he wants this to be different. This needs to be different.
It already is, when she holds her hand out and he takes it without hesitation. A far cry from that first night they spent together.
"I can make it." But he remembers how she handled the stairs. "We can go slow."
Natasha rewarded him with a smile. "Sounds good to me." So they went slow. She played the part of a tourist largely because that's what she was; she'd never spent any significant time in Romania before this. But never think that she wasn't armed and dangerous at all times; no, training had made sure of that.
Regardless, the former Black Widow didn't abandon her hold on her companion as they perused through the street bazaar, pausing here and there to look at this or that, with Natasha actually purchasing a few knickknacks, if only to commemorate the occasion.
About half an hour into the sojourn, she'd shifted from holding Bucky's hand to looping her right arm casually in the crook of his left, not at all bothered by ripple of metal plates beneath his sleeve, nor the whisper of gears and servos beneath the steel.
The area he's been staying has a lot of the same kinds of outdoor markets, so he feels a little more comfortable once they get there. He seems to be blending in alright, even next to someone who stands out as beautifully as Natasha does.
He still eyes the place with sharp eyes though, senses always alert, but he tries to relax into it as well, as they walk around. He takes note of the little knickknacks that she buys, because he wants to get to know her and what she likes. He also would never think to buy little things like that- or anything really, but he's been so far removed from life for so long, it's like he wants to relearn how to be a human being again. Not just a ghost.
He only tenses a little when she holds on to his left arm, watching her face, but her expression doesn't change. She really is such a wondrous person.
"Yes." He answers far too bluntly, still looking at her. She's the main thing that has caught his eye, but then he realizes what he's said and he ducks his head down a bit and glances away, toward one of the small shops. "Uh- over there." He has no idea what they're selling, but he has to save face now.
She wanted him to feel natural. To be relaxed, eventually, even in such a crowded place as this. They blended well, the mix of cultures, styles, peoples, and even music serving them well. Just a happy couple on vacation. One of thousands. Right.
And Natasha Romanoff was an expert chameleon. She always became whatever was necessary for the mission, and the mission this time was "Introduce Bucky Barnes to the Modern World". The easiest way to do that was to do exactly what she was doing: gain his trust, show him new things, educate him at every turn.
Maybe later she'd realize that a guise wasn't really necessary, because deep down, she wanted to do this. Just for herself. Hmm.
But after he'd answered her question, looking down at her with the oddest expression, Natasha then followed his gaze and her eyebrows lifted. "...you want one of those hand-carved Romanian wooden spoons?" Weird, but, "All right. Let's go look."
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maskirovka) wrote2021-07-20 01:46 am
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Although she'd do her best to hurry it along, if she could.
Bucky's suggestion was a good one; she was starting to get a little hungry, herself. So Natasha soaked up all of the (admittedly surprising) affection that she could, then slowly sat up, reaching for the menu on the coffee table.
"I'm good with food." She settled back against Bucky, holding up the menu for them both to see. "Anything look good."
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He soaks it up too, wanting her as close as he can get her. It's surprising, yet welcomed. He wants to memorize it all. The way she feels against him, the way she smells, the soft way she lets his fingers graze over him. He lets himself feel it all for the first time in a long time, so even when she pulls away to grab the menu, he's smiling.
"I'm always here for breakfast food. You know it." He points at the menu where the omelets are. "Or the cheese plate we said, yeah? Let's get both."
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"And get a lot," she added, skimming the pictures embedded in the menu's listing. "I know just how much you super soldiers put away." Metabolisms like coal furnaces, the both of them. Natasha had been fascinated as she watched Rogers inhale almost an entire lunch buffet at a local diner back in New York, post-mission. (Thankfully, Stark had bought the place out for that particular afternoon.)
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He can put away a lot, but being a HYDRA super soldier, his appetite was always shot. They gave him the nutrients he needed in different ways, and he still often forgets to eat. "I'll get a lot, but I'm not a big eater, so you better be ready." To eat the bigger portion of it. Though maybe now that they're on vacation he can work on that.
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The amenities were pleasantly nice, and she didn't feel too guilty about lingering in the shower. About half an hour later, she emerged back into the main room, slowly rubbing a towel over her wet hair. T-shirt, cotton shorts, and toe socks completed her ensemble, along with the damp curls that peeked beneath the towel.
Coming out from beneath the cloth, Natasha located her companion and offered a warm smile. "How much did you order?" she chuckled. "Didn't think it'd take so long to get here."
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The space doesn't feel the same this time as it did last time, though.
This time when she comes out of the shower he's standing by the TV, trying to figure out the remote again. His attention is full on her when she appears there in this very casual looking ensemble. She looks so comfortable- in her clothes, in her skin. Bucky wonders if he can ever get there. She's so- a lot of things that he isn't going to think about right now.
"I did." He clears his throat as he looks away- back at the remote, and to hid behind his hair. "It was really busy downstairs so. I'm sure they're backed up."
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Spying the remote in Bucky's hand, Natasha had to chuckle, combing back her hair with her fingers. "I only recognize a few of the words, but that's the power button, at least. Should we turn it on?"
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The remote is apparently universal, but it has a whole lot of buttons that he's never seen in his life. He nods. "You know, back in my day we just walked up to the monitor and turned it on right there. All the dials exactly where they need to be and they all did what they were supposed to."
Oh god. He sounds like a grumpy old man, doesn't he.
But at least it takes his mind off of Natasha in her casual outfit.
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Pressing the power button turned on the TV, and it flashed to life, immediately bringing up a local station. Naturally, the language was Romanian, but Natasha eventually figured out how to turn on the English closed captions.
Just as they were deciding on what to watch, a polite knock echoed on the suite door. At first, Natasha froze, then automatically slid behind Barnes' left arm, but a moment later blinked, murmuring, "...it's probably just room service."
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Turning the TV on he could handle- it's the rest that got him, so he raises an eyebrow, waiting for her to figure out the rest, as if she's struggling as much as he is- before the knock at the door.
It sets off all the alarms in his head as well and he's tense, shifting his arm out just slightly as she moves behind it. He's ready to fight, but then she reminds him... room service.
"Right. Yeah." He should get that, but he's more used to sliding back into the shadows whenever anyone else appears, ready for attack. That's not what they're here for though, and he has to figure out how to be a person again- which is what moves him toward the door, still on alert as he pulls it open, but all that's there is a smiling man speaking to him in Romanian about the food, and how he hopes they enjoy their stay. Bucky does remember tipping at least, and then the man is gone and they have their food.
"That as almost as bad as being downstairs."
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"Smells good," she remarked, leaning elbows on the small island as Bucky brought the cart over. "Worth the wait, at least."
She naturally went for the scrambled eggs and sausage first, seasoned with spices not typical in the States. She also nibbled from the cheese plate, going for the grapes and "homemade" mozzarella bites before anything else. "Mmmm..." An approving rumble. "'s really good."
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Now that that ordeal is over and the door is closed and it's just the two of them again, he can try to relax again. With the covers off he just watches her dig in for a moment or two before he goes for it too, trying some of the vegetable omelette.
He loves these spices- the food is good here, at least there's that.
Mostly though, he's just enjoying the way she's enjoying it. "You're really enjoying this, huh."
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"One of the things I've always loved about traveling everywhere is getting to try the local cuisines. Not the chain restaurants or any of those places," her nose wrinkled, then smoothed, "but the real spots, the 'mom-n-pop' shops, the ethnic cafes, the street food stalls...those food havens."
She scooped another bite of eggs with a piece of toast and fig jam. "These eggs are really good. I think they season them with dill and green onions." She built another bite on toast and held it out. "Taste?"
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He hesitates for a moment when she holds her fork out for a taste, but then he figures why not, leaning in to take the bite from her. He would have never added the jam. "It's really good. You're absolutely right. I think it tastes better like this, though."
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"How's the cheese?" She reached over for a different type, breaking off a small piece and popping it in her mouth. "Ooh, this one has spices in it. Nice."
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It helps him ease into this, whatever it is. He doesn't remember what domestic feels like anymore.
"It's delicious," he eats a little bit of it too, but mostly he just watches her eat. He seems to be enjoying that too. "I love how excited you get about food."
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"And Stark had access to the gourmet stuff, or so he said. I'd have been just as happy with a box of Lucky Charms over some of the stuff he had catered." She feigned a shudder. "I actually draw the line at eating snails and fish eggs, even if it is expensive." 0
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While he was the Winter Soldier they gave him the nutrients they felt he needed. He didn't enjoy food. He couldn't. He remembers that too. But like Natasha, he doesn't want to get into the dark thoughts.
"Fish eggs... damn. My ma- she used to make eggs and flapjacks. I remember that."
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But this," she gestured at their small table, "is very good." Natasha went for more of the fruit, biting into a plump strawberry and sighing happily. "Mmm, the best. We should check out the local places, too. I'm sure they'll be as good as this, if not better."
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It's nice to remember his mother, but he tucks that aside for another time. They're far too into the food right now. "I could live on this alone, I think. But- yeah. We can check out the local places."
He tries to be casual about it. He knows they need to get out there. He doesn't want to keep them holed up in here. "Maybe we can walk around a little tonight? Maybe they've got it all set up nice at night."
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So, after dinner and after a quick but thorough shower and a change of clothes, Natasha emerged in jeans, a comfortable sweater and short jacket, pocketing the room key and holding out a hand for Bucky to take as they headed downstairs for the "night life" and whatever the rest of the evening had to offer.
The hotel, at least, was getting crowded; the bar and restaurant no doubt busy until closing time, but thankfully it wasn't far to the main plazas and city markets. "Ten blocks," Natasha mused, checking the map on her phone. "Think we can make it there and back again?"
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But he wants this to be different. This needs to be different.
It already is, when she holds her hand out and he takes it without hesitation. A far cry from that first night they spent together.
"I can make it." But he remembers how she handled the stairs. "We can go slow."
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Regardless, the former Black Widow didn't abandon her hold on her companion as they perused through the street bazaar, pausing here and there to look at this or that, with Natasha actually purchasing a few knickknacks, if only to commemorate the occasion.
About half an hour into the sojourn, she'd shifted from holding Bucky's hand to looping her right arm casually in the crook of his left, not at all bothered by ripple of metal plates beneath his sleeve, nor the whisper of gears and servos beneath the steel.
"Anything catch your eye?"
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He still eyes the place with sharp eyes though, senses always alert, but he tries to relax into it as well, as they walk around. He takes note of the little knickknacks that she buys, because he wants to get to know her and what she likes. He also would never think to buy little things like that- or anything really, but he's been so far removed from life for so long, it's like he wants to relearn how to be a human being again. Not just a ghost.
He only tenses a little when she holds on to his left arm, watching her face, but her expression doesn't change. She really is such a wondrous person.
"Yes." He answers far too bluntly, still looking at her. She's the main thing that has caught his eye, but then he realizes what he's said and he ducks his head down a bit and glances away, toward one of the small shops. "Uh- over there." He has no idea what they're selling, but he has to save face now.
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And Natasha Romanoff was an expert chameleon. She always became whatever was necessary for the mission, and the mission this time was "Introduce Bucky Barnes to the Modern World". The easiest way to do that was to do exactly what she was doing: gain his trust, show him new things, educate him at every turn.
Maybe later she'd realize that a guise wasn't really necessary, because deep down, she wanted to do this. Just for herself. Hmm.
But after he'd answered her question, looking down at her with the oddest expression, Natasha then followed his gaze and her eyebrows lifted. "...you want one of those hand-carved Romanian wooden spoons?" Weird, but, "All right. Let's go look."
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