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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"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.

"Twerk." She corrects him mildly. Her glance is fond, and if she enjoys seeing him flustered and red, it's not at his expense. "It's called twerking, and I doubt anyone expected you to pick it up. Not to discourage you if you wanted to, but... not really your style."

It's quite a mental image. She doesn't doubt that's someone's thing. Probably plenty of people would pay good money to see it. For Natasha, it's just absurd.

"That doesn't mean it doesn't take talent."

Steve shows his palms. He might not believe in surrender but he knows that when to opt in for a tactical retreat. "I'm gonna take your word on this. I have experience in maybe three clubs and I was too busy feeling old to really notice any amount of skill."

He looks over at her, smirking himself now. "Was that you speaking out of experience? If we're talkin' about what people would or wouldn't pay money to see, I think I know our top earner."

Her lips twitch, but she doesn't dignify that comment about their top earner with a comment. She can guess how that conversation goes, and she figures it's better this way.

"No, I don't figure Captain America is really a club guy. More of an old fashion bar. Beer, whiskey... sawdust on the floor?" Steve can be such an old man. "Lucky you, we can find a few of those. You still might not approve of the music though."

"I have no idea why singers feel the need to curse every five seconds," he grouses. "And all the...just sexual themes. Used to be songs had subtly to them. Dignity." Oh yeah, he's an old man. But he's about a hundred years old so he might just be allowed to show his age a little.

"I wouldn't mind a bar with a jukebox. Or some place that had a live band. I don't even know if those exist anymore. A jazz bar, maybe. Think we might find ourselves on a planet like that?"

"Dignity, huh?" There's a lot to unpack there, Rogers, but Natasha shows a little mercy on him. He is an old man, and even if he's been in the twenty-first century for years now he still has that Depression era upbringing to contend with.

It's bard of his charm.

"Can't make any promises, but we already hit a system that was all rock and roll. Could be we'll find one that's got jazz. Most places have bands... something you should be able to live with. If not, you could always try karaoke."

"Oooh no," Steve insists, head shaking. "You can ask Buck. I am not a singer. I am less of a singer than I am a dancer, even if the place did somehow have the music I wanted to sing." Sinatra was everywhere so at the very least Steve could default to that. But no. No one here deserves that sort of torture.

"It would be nice if we hit a system that had some taste for once." He smirks over at Natasha, eyebrow raised. "Maybe I can show you what my time was all about and you'll see why we're called 'The Greatest Generation'." Which is bizarre, Steve thinks privately. Half the people his age were assholes. But who is he to argue?

"Steve..." Her smile is arch at that. Then she laughs, shaking her head. "You know, I won't tell you how it sounds when you say it like that. I have plenty of ideas why they call you old folks the Greatest Generation, though."

Steve is confused and it shows in the way his head tilts at Natasha's comment. It's probably for that reason alone that he takes the bait and goes on to ask, "Oh yeah? What reason is that?" Steve winces a little, doing the math. "We must all be old enough to be your grandparents at this point."

"Steve." Just, Steve. Natasha shakes her head, not really intending to elaborate. He just keeps on down this line of conversation, though, all innocent. More innocent than he probably realizes about some things. "Maybe, but you sure don't look old enough to be anyone's grandfather."

"Ice is really good skincare." Steve smirks but still looks around this antique memory he's conjured up to represent his mind. The smile fades and a truth comes up instead. "Maybe...it would be easier if I did look older." He had no idea if that was even in the cards for him. He hadn't really been given a chance to age. The idea of forever being the man out of time was unsettling.

"Trust me. Inside I still have more in common with the retirement home crowd."

"I know you think that." And in some ways, he's probably right. Growing up in the Depression era breadlines, he probably didn't have all that much in common with someone born in the 80s. In other ways... Natasha shrugs. Steve missed a lot, and he'd spent years in the future.

Probably wouldn't be comforting to tell her friend that she doubts he'd fit in anywhere. Not the way most people do. In some ways, he was a man without a generation, since everyone else his age had lived through the post-war return to normalcy and the paranoia of the Cold War.

"We get home, I can always help you find somewhere. Spend your golden years playing horseshoes"

Steve loves Nat because he's almost positive she's not joking. He can almost imagine them both playing horseshoes, his friend indulging the boring pastime just for him. "We'd need to make it more interesting for the both of us. I don't think we'd have issues with aim or strength."

Super soldier/ex spy horseshoes. Maybe you needed to fight Hydra in the middle of the game? He'll need to think about it. If they even ever got home again, that is.

And, even if they did, he wouldn't remember this. Would he?

"I appreciate the offer, Nat. How about instead I just give you an appreciation for big band music and step on your feet while trying to dance?"

"I'd be okay with that." She can think of much harder ways to spend an evening than dancing, even if the dancing might be a bit dated. Just goes with the company. "And I'd like to see you try tostep on my feet."

"That a challenge?" Steve raises his eyebrows as though daring Nat to agree. He laughs though, imagining the scene already. "Don't underestimate me. I've stepped on plenty of toes that thought they'd be faster." Ask Bucky. "I'll surprise you."

"I know you like to rise to the occasion... Let's see how well you really do." Because she's not going to let him back out of this so easily. If he doesn't remember this conversation, then that's just how it will be. That's fine. But he started this. "You want a dance, you'll get a dance."

'cause it's better than nothing

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