driftfleet | 'cause it's better than nothing

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'cause it's better than nothing

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(last updated: 1/25/19)

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"You're right about that," he says, cheered a bit by his friend. Even in here Steve has awareness of what he's been doing in the outside world. He knows about some of the things he's seen and also the things he's not seen at all. He hasn't visited Natasha's room yet, he knows. It's a comfort, really. He's not sure he'd want to poke that particular beehive and he's especially not sure that she'd want to share whatever would be put on display.

But he's still curious and has far fewer compunctions about embracing that, in here. So he just smiles and tilts his head to the side.

"Where would you go back to?"

"You mean in my past?" Natasha's brows draw together at the question, like it takes her by surprise. As though she doesn't understand what he's asking. "Never really thought about it."

For a lot of reasons. It's better not to get too attached, isn't it? Whatever you had wouldn't last. Beside that, there's not so much of Natasha's past that's all that enviable.

A few things do come to mind, and possibly ironically some of them do involved Bucky. She hesitates to explain that, though. Not here.

"Could I get a little time to think about it before I answer?"

Steve shrugs, good-natured about not getting an immediate answer. He really didn't expect an easy or simple one from Nat so the moment to think doesn't surprise nor upset him in the slightest.

"Don't worry about it. Take all the time you need." But then, after a pensive moment, Steve shrugs again. "You can forget it, too. Maybe it's wrong to think of things like that." Living in the past didn't do anyone any favors. Especially here.

"No," she says. She isn't sure she wants to tell him until she has the choice not to, but when he gives it, it feels right. Steve's shown her parts of himself. She'd like to reciprocate that.

"When we get a drink. When it's our choice. How's that for a deal?"

"Best deal I've gotten in a while." Steve laughs a little shaking his head. "And after all of this? Yeah. I need a few drinks. Not every day you get spread open and picked apart before doing it to other people, too."

He frowns a little, realizing what he said. "I know you aren't choosing this. None of us are. It's just what we gotta do."

"I know. I know a lot of the time, this lasts until we see a few memories." Which is one of the reasons to look at the memories rather than just sitting down and talking until morning. Eventually they would be able to leave, but time does funny things in dreams.

Natasha sighs. "You up to having a little walk?"

That is truly a novel idea. Steve blinks and looks around the theater, confused for a moment. "Can we?" He hasn't attempted to leave, before. Or maybe Nat just means for them to walk around the room or through another memory. It's his first time (that he recalls) so he's not entirely sure.

"I'm up to whatever you think would be best. You have more experience."

Leaving is off the table, at least for him. In Natasha's mind, she hadn't even been able to wander around her own mind—on the other hand, when she was in his position, she had been zip tied to a chair. So much in these rooms are specific to their occupant.

But they could stretch their legs.

"I like it when you say that." Teasing him.

Steve can't help but smile wide at that. He shakes his head, knowing he walked right into that. "Yeah, well. Don't get too used to it," he teases right back. Stretching their legs does sound like a good idea, though. And for all Steve knows, there is more to this place than what he is aware of. He doesn't think so, but perhaps there are surprises even in his own head.

"C'mon," he says as a hunch, walking toward the projector in the back. "If there is a projector maybe there is a room in there, too. Searching at least will give us something to do."

"Exactly what I was thinking." She can guess what some of the rooms other features will show them. The projector is a feature she's not sure what might represent. Maybe nothing, but still...

It's a place to go from here.

"Who knows, maybe we can find some old movies up there. You ever go see Dracula?"

Steve moves up the aisle and toward the door in the back. When he pushes on it there is no give. He frowns and tries to think about a second option, clearly calculating distance in his head.

"C'mon. We can climb in."

He moves to the top row. Even small and skinny he can climb onto the chairs and grab on to the lip of the wall to hoist himself up.

"Of course I saw Dracula," he says between grunts as he pulls his way up. "Saw Snow White more, though.... Liked animation."

"Never really liked Snow White." No need to delve into that further. She glances back at the screen as she says it, though. Then she shrugs. It doesn't come as a surprise that Steve climbs up like that. Looks like for the time being, they'll just have to make do without anyone tall.

"Want a hand?"

"You didn't grow up in the 30's. Trust me, it was groundbreaking. Course now it looks like nothing..." He sounds a little bitter, saying that, but that's just because the idea of computers replacing hand-drawing rubs him the wrong way as an old artist. Deep down, he really is just a grumpy grandpa about a lot.

"I could use a leg up," he concedes. "You're not allowed to tease me about this in the real world.

"I'm sure it was." She steps up on the seat, making a stirrup with her hands and cocking her head. She's stronger than she looks, and Steve isn't all that heavy at the moment. She's here to lend him a step up. "Rogers, how many times have I had you give me a boost?"

Maybe that had meant tossing her at an alien cruiser, but the spirit was the same.

"Just returning the favor."

Steve grins, thankful all over again to have Nat as a friend. He steps into her hands and uses the boost to finally get up to the window and into the projector room. Like the ones in the past, the room is filled with film reels. Unlike the ones downstairs, these seem to be real. Or at least have real titles on them.

"Movies I've seen," he guesses, pulling out Swing Time and looking at it. "Or maybe more traumatic memories. Who knows, here?"

"Not familiar with it." She glances from him to the projector. By now, Natasha's caught on to the fact he's not going to drive here. Steve's along for the ride.

"Let's say we put it on and see? Ever win a dance contest?"

"You kidding?" Steve puts the movie on and is relieved that it looks like an actual movie. Or, at least, the pieces of it he can actually remember. It's probably going to be a little spotty in the boring points.

"I could barely walk without having some sort of asthma attack. Dancing was a herculean feat. Contests? Nah. That was all Buck."

Natasha arches an eyebrow at that, fond. "But seeing the picture show, that wasn't too much for a skinny kid with asthma."

She doesn't say that she doubts the fact it was a herculean feat stopped Steve from trying. She's seen him small here, but she's known him longer. The serum may have made him stronger and sturdier, but it's not what made him throw himself out of a helicopter.

Metaphorically speaking.

"I never saw this one."

"It's alright. I wasn't usually one for the dancing flicks. But when animation doesn't start till 1940, you don't have a lot of options." He looks over at her and smiles, getting some questions of his own popping up.

"What about you? Danced? Snuck into movies? I don't mean for jobs. I mean...just for the heck of it."

He has no idea if there was even time for a 'just for the heck of it' moment. Nat's past is her own and he's got pieces of it the way someone learning a new language might get pieces of a conversation. It used to bother him but not anymore.

"Oh, I wasn't doing much of anything before 1940," she jokes wryly, giving an ironic raise of her eyebrow as she says it. It's her first reaction. Deflecting usually is.

For Natasha, it's a lot more natural than telling the truth.

"Yeah, I danced some here and there." Probably not in the way he means, and maybe not in a way that counts considering his clarification, but she enjoyed it. She still enjoys it. "Sneaking around..."

A shrug.

"Hard habit to break."

Steve smiles, imagining it. "I hope it was better than whatever it is kids do out here, now." There's music in the movie now and Steve remembers this scene well so it is clear. "See. That's dancing," he points with his chin.

"But I'll defer to you about sneaking around. Best I had to do was open the window and get down the fire escape. Even then I got caught coming back nine times out of ten." It wasn't even like he went out to do exciting things. Sometimes it was just to see Bucky and other times it was to find something out in the night to draw.

Captain America, everyone. Nerd extraordinaire.

That's not news for Natasha, but it does make all of this easier.

"You call that dancing?" It's all dancing, really, whether it's ballroom or swing or pop and lock, but she can't not tease him a little for being an old man trapped in a young man's body. "Steve, I took ballet. As far as my teachers were concerned, those folks doing the Lindy Hop are just as bad as ravers."

"Ballet..." Steve looks over at Nat and he can see it. Years ago when she had less scars and less weight on her shoulders. "Yeah. I can imagine your teachers wouldn't have been fond of us, either. But at least the Lindy Hop and swing takes talent. Kids these days just...do foreplay."

First time he'd gone to a club Steve had felt the deep need to go to church the next day for Reconciliation. And he had only been there for a few minutes.

"Rogers, if you think foreplay doesn't take talent then I've got some bad news for you..." She can't help but smile as she says that, giving him a sideways look. Big or small, Steve is still Steve. And Natasha is going to give him a little sass.

That's how their relationship works. She pushes him to be less of a grumpy old man, and he... well, he makes her a better person. All things considered, she probably gets the better end of the deal. "Though I guess enthusiasm will get you a long way too."

Well. That's a fast way to make Steve turn absolutely red. "Wait!" But for all the sputtering following that he doesn't actually have very much to say by way of defense. "I wasn't commenting on forepla-. Look, Nat." He's red and flustered but Steve's still smiling. Trust Nat.

"Just because I don't know how to...tweak? Tweet? Whatever it is. Just because I don't know that doesn't mean I don't know about the other thing. Even though his experience could probably be counted on one hand if you have a generous definition. But that's not one of the memories in here so he gets to keep that close to the vest.

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