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"You know, the last time I was in Germany and saw a man standing above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing." Independent Steve Rogers RoleplaySelective and NSFW Mun & Muse both 23+
“I think you’re a realist. Just a more optimistic one than I happen to be. And I’ve always got your back.”
She shook her head.
"No. But it’s the way I grew up. You read up as much as you can, and then fill in the rest with observation. I had you and Banner pegged the second you guys stepped foot on the helicarrier for the first time.”
"We make a pretty good team, huh?”
Steve chuckled as she told him that she had Banner and himself all figured out. Of course she had, reading people was basically her specialty.
“I think you’re cut out to be Steve Rogers. You’re a good guy, but sometimes to do the right thing we have to pick the ugly choices, and if you like calling things ‘borrowing’ rather than ‘stealing’ to help you sleep better at night then who am I to judge? You’re just lucky that I tend to be okay with kicking men like Jasper Sitwell off roofs, because I’m comfortable crossing a line that you aren’t. And I personally think that you’ve seen too much shit to be any good in an office setting.”
She smiled, zipping up her jacket against the cool of the night air.
"I keep tabs on everyone, not just my friends. The doctor I had cheats on his wife, the parking attendant is trying to quit smoking and you worry too much. What purpose will it serve me knowing that you’re into redheads?”
"Well, it may not be ideal, but you get results, and I need someone to keep me in reality for when things happen that I can’t see the way a realist sees them, you’re there having my back.“
Steve chuckled at all the secrets she had.
"Do you need to blackmail parking attendants often, Natasha?”
“Most of the time, unless it doesn’t suit your needs, you can do the moral compass thing. And then you just do the morally dubious thing and spin it so it doesn’t sound wrong. Don’t think I haven’t noticed your other secret.”
She shoved her hands into the pockets of her ruined jacket, fingers curling into loose fists against denim material. She liked Steve, and he was actually one of the best men she knew, but she also just knew things.
"You’re sharing secrets. I’m just filing them away for future use…Who told you I was here, Rogers?”
"So, you think I’m cut out for politics, then?”
Steve flashed a teasing smile toward his friend as they exited the hospital, having felt he’d gotten past the discussion about when he’d bend the rules.
"Oh, I see, our friendship is based on you keeping tabs on me for when you need to blackmail me into doing things for you, is that it?”“
“Don’t tell Barton that though. I told him I only hold him in fond regards. He’ll get jealous knowing that I like someone more than I like him.”
That wasn’t actually true. Natasha owed her life to Clint, and the man was her best friend, but Steve ranked high in her opinion of him.
"Guess I’d better stop looking inside SHIELD and start looking in nursing homes then, shouldn’t I?”
A smirk and a sigh as her pool of potential matches was even further reduced.
"So picky, Rogers. What color, then? Shelby from medical is going white, plus she’s actually closer to your age range than just about everyone else in the damn place, Zoe from Food Services has blue hair of all things, and Christie from HR has… you got a thing for redheads that I don’t know about?”
"As much as I love ruffling feathers, I think being your secret best friend is probably smart.”
Steve almost laughed, but the smile was evident. He’d never once attempted to antagonize Barton, sarcasm was reserved for Natasha and Stark.
“Well, I do love a good cup of jello.”
He paused, thinking about her three questions as one was obviously the right one. Still, it did leave an opening of a jab of his own.
“Red, white, blue. You know me so well.” The smirk didn’t die, Steve actually was enjoying himself, “One of those. And that’s all you’ll get out of me about it ever.”
“I also feel like a helpless child, so there’s that as well. But I do appreciate the fifty percent that I’m getting out of this.”
Natasha’s eyebrow arched, and she stood back for a moment before following after Steve with a curious look on her face. Not into blondes? How could she have not taken that into account? Great. Now she had to readjust her entire candidate pool, and refocus her attentions. And to think she’d thought Sharon would be a great match.
Just great.
"I’m old, Rogers. I like getting involved in affairs that I’ve got no business being involved in. What is your type, then? Kelly from accounting’s pretty. And she’s super interesting, and she’s a brunette.”
"Appreciation? We really are getting to be best friends then, huh?”
Where was a;; this bravery coming from? Steve wasn’t sure, but he was enjoying it. He was starting to feel comfortable in his own skin, like he could really cut it in this era. People like him were around, people that understood and could talk to him on an equal playing field.
“You’re old? Natasha, if you’re old, I’m ancient.”
He knew he was opening himself up for a severe age joke right there.
“Warmer,” Steve mused as Natasha tried again, “But still the wrong color, besides, I hate math.”
She sighs, not even bothering to hide the irritation in her voice as she mutters something in Russian about stupid soldiers who worry too much, and then sighs again, nodding reluctantly because she’s not huge on the idea of being taken care of, especially when it’s not Barton taking care of her.
“I could get out of here on my own, you know.”
And then Natasha holds out her good hand for her jacket, neatly manicured fingers curving up in a ‘give it here’ gesture as she gives Steve a small grin despite herself.
“I could kick your ass with an arm in a sling, Rogers, make no mistake.” A red eyebrow lifts. "Since when do you cook?”
“I know you could, but you asked me anyway.”
Steve couldn’t help it, he smirked a little bit as he moved to put her jacket over her shoulders. The hand signal she gave made him think again, Cap sheepishly offered it to her instead when Natasha asked how long he’d been able to cook.