valuedstrength | missing scenes

She hums thoughtfully, it was dangerous, but so is everything she does so she doesn't see the point in avoiding the question.

"I was assigned to him to make sure he didn't die. Or do anything reckless. Not in that order and I only succeeded at one."

Steve works to spread the melting butter evenly by picking up the pan and rotating it. His smile broaden at her answer. What a job. He actually pities her. "Yeah, he's a fun one. I thought I was reckless back in my day, but man we really have nothing on him." Steve laughs because Tony cheats it so expertly. He is better at staying alive than he and the Commandos ever were. Look how they turned out!

Natasha is watching him with laserlike focus, like she's never seen anything so fascinating in his life.

"He is fun," she agrees unironically, something twinkling behind her gaze as he shares a little piece of himself. She has the urge to do the same, but the truth is she doesn't have anything to give him. "ANd impossible to keep up with." It's almost a warning, like maybe Steve shouldn't even try.

He catches the warning just as he sets the pan back on the flame. Steve just smirks. "I don't think it's a secret that I have no idea what's going on. I just learned how to work this thing." He taps his fingers to the stovetop before going for the eggs. He starts cracking, tossing onto the pan, and throwing the shells in the trash like it's a contest he plans to win. He's going for quick and dirty scrambled eggs in an effort to keep the rest of the food lukewarm when they do eat it.

"I'm just along for the ride." Or so he tells himself.

She rolls her lips into her mouth and conveys a knowing look. "Right..." Nat hops down and slots in next to Steve, getting down plates like she fucking lives here too. She goes for the utensils next, smiling over at him.

"Do you always make breakfast in the middle of the night?"

He is quickly whipping those eggs up in the pan, only pausing to let them cook a little before whipping again. Steve can already tell there's no fooling her. He likes that even as he continues to play the game. "You bet. It's one of the perks for sleeping for seventy years." And nothing to do with trauma or depression.

Steve seems cheerful enough as he finishes the eggs, doesn't he? "Food's done."

Natasha searches his expression, but if she sees anything amiss in it she doesn't react nor comment. Just pushes each plate towards him so he can put the food on it before going to the fridge for some juice or something - she looks strange as hell doing domestic tasks in her catsuit but doesn't seem to notice that either.

She'll meet him around the other side of the counter, gracefully vaulting up into one of the high barstools and cracking into her food like she's been starved all her life. "Are there others?" she asks around a bite before clarifying: "Perks."

It's actually weird to see an agent going around doing domestic tasks while he plates them both generous portions of everything. Steve keeps that to himself too along with how graceful she seems to be. That really would have been a nasty fight. Peggy only taught him to hit hard and creatively.

He digs in right alongside her. This part never gets old. He loves the taste and variety of modern food. "Yep." He agrees instantly. Steve washes a bite down with the bottle of water he's been nursing. "They stopped rationing food. There's so much it you can lose an hour trying to pick one thing to eat." He couldn't sound more amazed by such a thing. The way she eats he can't help wondering if she can relate to that.

So this is a self-comfort session. She can get down with that. Though the realization (along with shoveling food into her mouth) has Natasha going quiet for several moments.

"That's the worst thing about food. Choosing something to eat." She wrinkles her nose after a swallow though it barely seems like she's chewing, washing it down with Tony's fancy juice.

Steve nods in agreement. He is quick to add a new discovery of his between bites. "Hitting the bag helps. Whatever I crave after a couple hours of that is usually what I go with." For obvious reasons he hasn't hunted down spring rolls at 2 a.m.

He'll learn he can get anything at any hour in modern day New York soon enough.

"Is that your stress relief? Hitting things?" If she sounds bemused, she is.

He bobs his head because yeah. Is that weird?? Steve looks at her with uncertainty. "Sure is. Why? Did they come up with something better?" The future already fixed food!!!

Her smile is downright wolfish as she turns to set her expression on him, still chewing appreciatively.

"Oh yeah. I'll show you after we eat. It's called MMA."

Steve is intrigued like the fool that he is. "I'd like that." Especially since he's getting from that smile that this will be dangerous.

Steve might be hurrying through his meal to find out now.

Natasha bites into her lip to keep from laughing at him, though she notices instantly him picking up the pace. She's a fast eater as it is so it's no trouble to speed up a bit herself.

"Mixed martial arts," she explicates when she goes for her drink again. "It's like a combo of every different style you could think of except with no rules." Or very few, anyway.

"No kidding?" Steve asks brightly. He's like a kid being left home alone with a dangerous toy. He absolutely wants to play with it. "You don't mind showing me some moves? I can't promise I'm a fast learner." Says the guy with the permanently altered brain that allows him to pick up things quickly.

"Oh, I don't mind winning," she sing-songs, getting up to clear her dishes and wash her hands. She thinks they'll actually be pretty evenly matched, at least at first. Once he picks things up, which she thinks will be fast, she's betting she won't stand a chance and for some reason she kind of likes the idea of losing to him, too.

"Who said you'd be the only one?" Steve gently challenges as he finishes his meal. He's quickly getting up to wash his dishes and hers. He is kind of a guest here too. He can't let dishes sit all day!!!

She just lifts her eyebrows, leaning against the counter to watch him for a second.

"Doesn't Stark have robots or something that could do that for you?" Or, like, a dishwasher. Whatever. She finds this whole thing incredibly endearing and she's not trying too hard to hide it. "It's too bad we're not at his Malibu estate. He has a whole boxing arena."

He chuckles softly at that. She does have him there. "There's a dishwasher. I'm just not brave enough to use it yet." Steve breezes through the job pretty quickly. He didn't make too much of a mess. He's soon drying off his hand and sucking any last bit of sweetness of his lips in a quick gesture.

"Ready? It may not be a whole boxing area, but..." He cuts himself off with a shake of his head. "You probably know this place better than I do." He'll just head to where he hangs his bag.

"Ready as I'll ever be," she admits, but follows him into the room set up as a makeshift gym. Oh yeah, this should work. She's already unlacing her boots to get ready to roll. "Want to start out showing me what you know?"

Natasha straightens up and takes a loose stance on one side of the mat, eyes watching him like a hawk and one stubborn curl falling in front of her face.

"Sure." Steve takes a stance on the other side of her. It's a generous thing to call it that. It's really Peggy's advice to always plant your feet firmly on the ground with his fists up. The last one coming from Bucky before the procedure. It's a poor imitation of what might have been solid advice once. He takes a swing at Natasha a second later.

With any luck, she won't fall over laughing that this is how a legendary super soldier fights. At least he keeps his arm straight?

So... nothing? Cool. She ducks his fist neatly and goes right for the leg sweep, figuring it will only get harder to attack his center of gravity as they go. And her best weapon is as always the element of surprise. Nat puts her hands on her hips and looks down at him with his back on the mat like she isn't sure how he got there.

Steve doesn't look like he's sure how he got there either. He is nothing if not a good sport. He's not the least bit bothered as he stares back up at her. Steve draws his legs back and kicks himself back up to a standing position. He goes to shove her with both hands which might work better if he had the shield with him.

Points for having half of a winning concept. The idea of getting some distance between them is solid enough even if the execution is weak.

She watches him with that same intense emerald gaze that followed him in the kitchen, though it's for a whole new reason now. He pushes her and she doesn't try to meet him in strength where she knows she could never win. Instead, she rocks back and uses that leverage and space to kick up a knee to strike at his unprotected middle. Her elbow hits the mat a second later, but like it's made of elastic it bounces her right back up so she can dig her other elbow into his opposite abdominal. Nat isn't necessarily holding back, but she is using moves she wants him to understand conceptually rather than just take the abuse.

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