Moon River

The Obvious

Natasha lowers her head on the park bench, skillfully jabbing a sushi roll with her chopsticks;

"To answer the question you asked back there, before we were so rudely interrupted by our food truck driver."

"So rude," he jokes. She smiles.

"I am not used to stepping into the Director role. So, honestly I'm not sure how I feel about it."

Bruce sits beside her, hand under his head with his elbow on the back of the bench to face her;

"Hmm. I assumed you would enjoy the control."

She shrugs in her light overcoat;

"I guess I'm just not used to calling the shots for a group? I don't know. It's this idea of having options because I didn't grow up making my own decisions. It was always either someone else telling me what to do or this inner other voice that took the wheel."

He scoffs, "I hear you there. If it means anything, I think you're doing great."

"It does. So, thank you,' her head tilts with a soft laugh, 'What about you? Used to New York yet?"

He shoves a hand into his jacket pocket, "No. I can't breathe without freaking out about the other guy losing it. So there's that and the sirens keep me up at night."

"Just the sirens?"

She smirks knowingly. Ever since Russia and after sharing that space down the hall in the tower, Natasha knows he's prone to nightmares the same way he knows she cries in her sleep. Neither one has said a word about Russia since Russia, and they silently have agreed to keep it that way.

The doctor had shared in so many words that he needed time, so she'd given it to him...a year's worth.

Bruce just shrugs over her remark. He's eager to change the topic and avoid any sort of emotion.

She refocuses downward and plays with her food, "You seem happier."

He snatches a slice of ginger from her dish, "No thanks to you."

Romanoff scoffs, offering her plate for another bite while she hugs her elbow, "I mean if I contributed in some way. I overstep, I start caring too much. It's a weakness."

He focuses on her lowered eye line. He can sense a thicker tension with her head forward and a hesitated eye contact. He searches for her eyes with a head tilt. His voice his soft;

"Natasha, I wouldn't be sitting next to you right now if you didn't care. If that's a weakness then I should question my reality..."

She looks up hesitantly, fearful of that emotion building up from her core. Romanoff lifts a shoulder and she can't bite her tongue fast enough to prevent the question;

"Is that why you amuse me with banter? Some sort of, payment?"

"You know, considering how many of my sutures are in your flesh I think we're square."

She laughs, "That's true."

Bruce pauses to tug at his curls. He looks away, his heel digs into the sidewalk underneath. His lips twist as he focuses downward and bites his cheek;

"Jokes aside; I um...I just enjoy your company."

She's searching for his friendly and open cocoa stare, unable to reach her own resolution without looking into his eyes. She wants to kiss him the way she has before, unsure if it would be overstepping based on his lack of focus.

The spy sighs over the ringing device tucked inside her pocket;

"It's Fury."

He leans forward and nods, unable to get past the timing when he mumbles, "Go for it."