Hm. ( he lets a thoughtful pause hang in the air as they walk to the elevator, pretending to weigh his decision. he holds his silence as the doors slide shut, enclosing them in the quiet, mirrored box. their reflection stares back—and his breath catches. she is a vision. it's a strange and sudden shift in perception; for decades, his view of her had been framed by the unbreakable, familiar lines of friendship. it had taken her asking him out to shatter that frame, and the woman standing beside him now is somehow both his oldest friend and a breathtaking revelation. the idea of her having to fight off anyone is laughable; he'll be the one on guard duty all night, silently warning every other patron away. what the hell, he decides. her reaction will be worth it. )
You remember that place we passed after we went shopping for your art stuff? ( the one she'd pointed out when she thought he wasn't really listening. he'd shrugged it off, muttering that it looked like a lot of effort for a meal, even if some big-shot chef was cooking. but he remembers. top-notch, impossible to get into, with a space for dancing in the middle. classy. )
Well, I was able to get us a table. ( he braces himself, half-expecting a playful smack to the arm for keeping it a secret. but look at her—she is dressed for it perfectly. and his blazer, he'd been firmly told by his contact, is perfectly appropriate. )
[ The silence isn't supposed to be new either, or at least Steph has had a few years to get used to the new Bucky, the one from After. But the one she's with tonight isn't quite him, either, and she doesn't really know how to feel about that. Oh, she isn't any less in love with him, but she's struck by the realization that he's both her oldest friend and a total stranger.
The restaurant choice slams that point home. ]
For real? Oh, wow.
[ She stares down at the flowers in her hand. High-end places aren't her style, not even after everything she's been through and the fact that she's pretty much a celebrity in her own right. But her silence isn't from discomfort or disapproval. Rather, it's because: ] You didn't have to go through all that trouble for me, Buck. I ain't worth it.
[ Fuck, she's really terrible at dating, isn't she? The night hasn't even started and she's already messing things up.
She desperately tries to remedy the situation by quickly adding: ] You didn't have to sell your arm for that reservation, did you? I'd sell the shield, but I'd have to get it back from Sam first.
( a soft, weary chuckle escapes him. he shoots her a sidelong glance, the one that's equal parts amused and eternally tired. )
A guy I know owes me a favor. Everything's on the house.
( the only thing that cost him is the bouquet of flower he'd bought her. a cheap date, by any measure. the last thing he wants is for her to think this is a burden. as the elevator doors slide open, he gestures for her to go first. )
But if you'd be more comfortable at a Wendy's, just say the word. I hear the Baconator's a national treasure.
[ A favor isn't exactly free, but before she can make her point, he suggests going to Wendy's instead and she has to laugh as she steps out of the elevator. Wendy's for a first date! Sam would never let them live it down. Bucky more than her. ]
And let this go to waste?
[ She elbows him lightly on the ribs once he comes up next to her — this referring to his outfit — before snaking her arm around his and drawing herself back into his side. She hopes he doesn't mind. It keeps up the appearance of a date, though she likes it for more personal, selfish reasons. ]
No, no, Wendy's is for midnight snacks, after we go dancing. I'm gonna need a whole tower of pancakes after all that excitement. There is gonna be dancing, right?
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You remember that place we passed after we went shopping for your art stuff? ( the one she'd pointed out when she thought he wasn't really listening. he'd shrugged it off, muttering that it looked like a lot of effort for a meal, even if some big-shot chef was cooking. but he remembers. top-notch, impossible to get into, with a space for dancing in the middle. classy. )
Well, I was able to get us a table. ( he braces himself, half-expecting a playful smack to the arm for keeping it a secret. but look at her—she is dressed for it perfectly. and his blazer, he'd been firmly told by his contact, is perfectly appropriate. )
no subject
The restaurant choice slams that point home. ]
For real? Oh, wow.
[ She stares down at the flowers in her hand. High-end places aren't her style, not even after everything she's been through and the fact that she's pretty much a celebrity in her own right. But her silence isn't from discomfort or disapproval. Rather, it's because: ] You didn't have to go through all that trouble for me, Buck. I ain't worth it.
[ Fuck, she's really terrible at dating, isn't she? The night hasn't even started and she's already messing things up.
She desperately tries to remedy the situation by quickly adding: ] You didn't have to sell your arm for that reservation, did you? I'd sell the shield, but I'd have to get it back from Sam first.
no subject
A guy I know owes me a favor. Everything's on the house.
( the only thing that cost him is the bouquet of flower he'd bought her. a cheap date, by any measure. the last thing he wants is for her to think this is a burden. as the elevator doors slide open, he gestures for her to go first. )
But if you'd be more comfortable at a Wendy's, just say the word. I hear the Baconator's a national treasure.
no subject
And let this go to waste?
[ She elbows him lightly on the ribs once he comes up next to her — this referring to his outfit — before snaking her arm around his and drawing herself back into his side. She hopes he doesn't mind. It keeps up the appearance of a date, though she likes it for more personal, selfish reasons. ]
No, no, Wendy's is for midnight snacks, after we go dancing. I'm gonna need a whole tower of pancakes after all that excitement. There is gonna be dancing, right?