driftfleet | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: Natasha Romanoff + you (+ maybe some Bucky Barnes)
Broadcast: Video
Action: Mostly no, but we could work something out.
When: Now

[The video feed start, focusing tightly on Natasha's face, the only visible backdrop a rather generic portion of cabin wall.]

So checking the date, seems like it's been a while. Nice to see everyone's back in the air. Hopefully in one piece. I see a few people have left.

Anyone want to fill me in on the important details? Or should we let sleeping dogs—

[The sound of a door cuts her off the, and Natasha looks up. Whoever she sees, her expression softens. She smiles slightly, lifting her chin slightly and turning her head to catch a kiss from some loser tall enough that only the lower half of his face makes it in the frame. The stubble on his chin and the shape of his mouth might be enough to identify him though.]

A lot of catching up to d—

[Suddenly the feed cuts out.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ she takes another drink. natasha has hinted at a certain missing comprehension when it comes to the odder beats of peggy and steve's relationship, and she doesn't mean to tread that ground again just now -- except that she doesn't want to fall back on the subject of steve's self-image. it has nothing to do with a 'safer' reply and everything to do with it being steve's business. peggy doesn't share it lightly. ]

Oh, I don't know. I don't always mind being driven up a wall. [ ... ] Keeps me on my toes.

[ right up until her toes no longer touch the floor. ]

All things considered, I figure you must not.

[It's the only way to figure their relationship makes sense]

I suppose there's something bittersweet about the opportunity to drive each other batty. [ peggy touches the edge of her thumb to the glass's rim. ] It's easier to enjoy it when the alternative might be not seeing each other at all.

I guess not driving each other batty isn't an option. [Natasha smiles as she says it, clearly amused and even appreciative, even if it's not a dynamic she'd find comforting.]

You've known us both for some time, now. [ peggy returns the smile. ] So I'd ask what you think about whether that option even exists for us but -- I'm worried you might answer me honestly.

[ it's a joke! she's joking. ]

When I first met him, Steve could barely make it through a sentence without stammering and sticking his foot in his mouth. And perhaps now he's only marginally better but...I'd like to think the banter helps.

[ it's a bit like sparring. training. teaching. ]

[Natasha can take a joke, and does so with a wry smile. She can also accept on some level that banter looks different between different people.

That doesn't mean she won't tease.]

Banter is all well and good. I like banter. What you two get up to... that seems exhausting.

[The funny thing, in a sideways sort of way, is that in he end Natasha and Barnes are far less confrontational in their verbal matches. Or maybe just in general.]

Yes, well, I've got to exhaust him somehow. [ a beat. ] Conventional means don't always apply.

As long as you know you left yourself wide open for that one.

[But she smiles, and takes pity on her. Which mostly means moving the conversation away from Steve.]

I guess I'm lucky Barnes isn't so high maintenance. The biggest obstacles I've run into is getting around calling a grown man Bucky.

[Which just goes from silly to ridiculous when you're sleeping with him.

It's not true, obviously. Bucky has a lot he's been working through and he's still working through, but that's less fun for joking.]

[ -- in the end, the pity isn't necessary. peggy had intended the innuendo exactly as it had sounded. the opening had been a purposeful one, though her head cocks a little while she watches natasha step around it.

kindness, of a sort. ]

...It is a ridiculous nickname, isn't it? [ ... ] But most of the Howlies had ridiculous nicknames. It could have been worse. It could have been Dum Dum.

I wouldn't be sleeping with someone who willingly called themselves Dum Dum.

[ and yet here's peggy, willingly sleeping with someone who calls himself captain america. christ alive. ]

I wouldn't throw stones. Bucky's better, [ as a nickname, ] but only marginally.

It's an important margin. And for the most part, I get out of calling him that.

[ well, now she's curious. ]

James or Barnes?

Barnes, mostly.

[In public. James is a new development. And Natasha's preference.]

[ barnes is what peggy tends to default to -- except, recently, she's taken to testing the waters with simply buck. but once upon a time... ]

I started out calling him Sergeant, of course. If I called him anything at all.

[ peggy had been a position apart from the commandos, even if she did attach herself to them on occasion. ]

Makes sense. Might kill the mood a little if I started doing that, though. Especially now.

Oh, God, it was by no means a suggestion. [ she buries her smile in another drink. ] Although -- I suppose he's more of a Captain here.

Now that gets confusing for other reasons. Too many captains running around here.

[With a pointed look.]

I like James.

[Probably most because no one else uses it.]

It's a good name.

[ a beat. ]

I can't imagine he gets called it by many.

I don't think so. I think he just puts up with me doing it because he likes me.

[She doesn't think that's exactly the case, but it keeps the answer clean.]

Yet another perk. [ peg smiles. ] Does he call you Natasha? Or Nat?

[ like steve does. ]

Natasha, usually. Nat is very American.

[Which Barnes is too, but considering his history...]

Though sometimes he likes to annoy me with silly Russian nicknames.

You can't say that and not give us an example. [ peggy knows enough. she's fluent in the language -- but terms of endearment are a deeply cultural thing. and now she's curious. ]

Really? Getting into those details just seems like opening myself up to teasing.

[Even Natasha has some limits.]

Teasing might be more Steve's tactic. [ peg prefers a good barb. ] Although I suppose I can't guarantee they won't find their way back to his ears.