Steve would gladly listen to all of her stories, and only wish that she'd been able to have more of them, before ending up here. It was a strange contradiction, happy that she had those memories, but sad that he hadn't been able to see them; see her, happy and... well, as carefree as she could be, back then. It was a mixture of feelings he was becoming rather familiar with, unfortunately.
Steve grinned. "You may have to go easy on me," he told her. "But it does sound...great. Sounds fun."
Before he could say anything else, Steve saw a flash of color in his peripheral vision, and glanced over instinctively. That shade of red rarely occurred in nature except for the brightest of cardinals... and black widows. Casually walking toward them, was none other than Natasha Romanov.
"Oh, crap," Steve muttered without thinking. His brain immediately switched to tactical mode, assessing and evaluating possibilities. Natasha could be just going for a stroll, like they were - but it was unlikely, in his books, that she'd just happen to choose Central Park to do it, and then just happen to find them. It was a huge park, and what little he knew about her didn't lend Steve to believe she went for casual strolls. Or stumbled on to anyone she didn't intend to meet. She could be looking for him for Fury again, but he had a cell phone, she could have called for his location.
And then there was the third option: Tony had called her, and harassed her until she went looking for him, because Tony had no doubt told her 'Steve was just at the Tower with a mysterious woman, and they had an intense conversation and I couldn't hear it, yes of course I was trying to eavesdrop, I'm a nosy bastard - so could you go find them and find out who she is, because I have to know, because I can't keep my nose out of other people's beeswax for five seconds.'
The look on Natasha's face was... interesting, too. Not upset, not quite predatory... But definitely intent. She was wearing a white tank top, probably in concession to the heat, light blue jeans that looked painted on, and soft ankle high leather boots, with a heel. She looked prepared for a fight if need be, but he was pretty sure she always dressed with having a fight in mind.
Steve came to a gradual halt, waiting for Natasha to reach them. She smiled happily when she was close enough, and it was an expression Steve instantly mistrusted.
"Hey, stranger," she said in her husky teasing voice. "Fancy running into you here."
Steve wasn't having it. "It's a public park, Natasha."
And then, with that smile still playing along the edges of her lips, Natasha turned to Rogue. "Who's your friend?"
no subject
Steve grinned. "You may have to go easy on me," he told her. "But it does sound...great. Sounds fun."
Before he could say anything else, Steve saw a flash of color in his peripheral vision, and glanced over instinctively. That shade of red rarely occurred in nature except for the brightest of cardinals... and black widows. Casually walking toward them, was none other than Natasha Romanov.
"Oh, crap," Steve muttered without thinking. His brain immediately switched to tactical mode, assessing and evaluating possibilities. Natasha could be just going for a stroll, like they were - but it was unlikely, in his books, that she'd just happen to choose Central Park to do it, and then just happen to find them. It was a huge park, and what little he knew about her didn't lend Steve to believe she went for casual strolls. Or stumbled on to anyone she didn't intend to meet. She could be looking for him for Fury again, but he had a cell phone, she could have called for his location.
And then there was the third option: Tony had called her, and harassed her until she went looking for him, because Tony had no doubt told her 'Steve was just at the Tower with a mysterious woman, and they had an intense conversation and I couldn't hear it, yes of course I was trying to eavesdrop, I'm a nosy bastard - so could you go find them and find out who she is, because I have to know, because I can't keep my nose out of other people's beeswax for five seconds.'
The look on Natasha's face was... interesting, too. Not upset, not quite predatory... But definitely intent. She was wearing a white tank top, probably in concession to the heat, light blue jeans that looked painted on, and soft ankle high leather boots, with a heel. She looked prepared for a fight if need be, but he was pretty sure she always dressed with having a fight in mind.
Steve came to a gradual halt, waiting for Natasha to reach them. She smiled happily when she was close enough, and it was an expression Steve instantly mistrusted.
"Hey, stranger," she said in her husky teasing voice. "Fancy running into you here."
Steve wasn't having it. "It's a public park, Natasha."
And then, with that smile still playing along the edges of her lips, Natasha turned to Rogue. "Who's your friend?"