entrancelogs | [open] out for all that i can get

Entry tags:

[open] out for all that i can get

Who: Sam Wilson and you!
Where: All around. Seriously he's been cooped up.
When: 7/29
Rating: PG-13. Will adjust if necessary.
Summary: Sam is tooling around on his own now that his leg is healed. Expect a cane and sass.
The Story:

His recovery time was slow, but he didn't mind it so much. He played video games with Clint, watched movies with Steve and Natasha and talked to anyone who came close enough. It wasn't horrible. The amount of people stuffed into this house was actually a benefit to a guy stuck in a walking cast. He could walk now though. With the help of a cane, but he could walk. He healed up with ease. He confined himself to his room when he could just to stay out of the way in case things got too crazy. No one needed to worry about the guy who could barely walk on his own. He didn't want to become a liability to them.

If you find Sam he's most likely wandering around the grounds. Inside and outside. He's just trying to get used to walking fully on his leg again. He makes a visit to the kitchen for food and then goes for a jog outside. He's trying to get full mobility back and that's gonna take some work, but he'll push himself if he has to.

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She's been keeping an eye on him as often as she could, since she knew how much she hated to be laid up for any length of time, and hey, she figured at this point they sort of owed each other their lives at least one time over now.

So she lights up with a smile on the morning she spots him out for a run, considering she's been out doing the same. Without SHIELD's training facilities on hand, she's resorted to doing things the old fashioned way at the moment. She catches up to him and falls into pace beside him with a crooked grin, her hair drawn back off her face in a pair of pigtails at the nape of her neck, dressed in simple yoga pants and a tank.

"Well, look at you, all up and mobile again."

"I had to get out of that room. I got tired of Steve hovering. The guy's gotta stop trying to fluff pillows for my leg." As much as he appreciated Steve being so concerned for his well being there came a certain point where enough interaction was just enough. He needed his space and Steve needed his. He was a man with a mission. That mission was getting Sam Wilson mobile and well again. He decided he would help speed the process up just to get himself his room back. Not that he enjoyed being alone with Bucky so close, but privacy became important at some point.

He smiles and nods at her. "Ya know--that get up kinda makes you look less dangerous than you actually are. I'll give you twenty bucks if you choke someone out with the pigtails." Because it would not only be amazing, but it would probably be the hottest thing that Sam's ever seen.

Her lips quirk into a smirk at that. "We'll get you a medal. Besides, we all appreciate you taking one for the team. If he's mother-henning at you, he's not doing it to the rest of us," she teases him as she pats his arm lightly in commiseration.

"Twenty bucks? Please. That's not worth messing up my hairdo for," she scoffs with a roll of her eyes, although her amusement is still fully present, glinting in green eyes and the sly curve of her lips. "Not to mention death isn't really a thing here, so they'd just show up a few days later, pissed at me for the indignity."

"Two medals. I want two medals and they better be shiny." He half smiles. He didn't mind it most of the time. It was nice having a friend like Steve. It's been a long time since Sam has had someone he would actually risk his life for. It's been a long time since he's had a wingman and it feels good. Even if he's starting to get cabin fever. He appreciates all that Steve's done for him. He'd walk through the fire for that broad shouldered asshole. To Hell and back if Steve Rogers asked him to.

Sam laughs outright at that one. "I didn't say they had to die. I just meant until they were unconscious." He backtracks though because she mentions death isn't a thing here and that's weird. "Whoa. Hold up. Repeat the death bit. What'd ya mean?"

"I'll get Coulson right on that," she snickers, rolling her shoulders to work out the tenseness in her muscles, but she's in good humor today and it shows in the easy curve of her smile and her relaxed movements.

"There's still the outraged indignity to deal with," she points out, amused. "Unless you're volunteering, of course, and then you'd have no right to bitch." She glances over at his request, arching an eyebrow. "Someone skipped that part of the debrief, did they? Shame on them. Yeah, dying doesn't really take here. You just wake up again in a few days. Like you just took a really long nap. Heard a rumor the magical number's five and then you come back... weird."

"Haven't had a chance to meet the guy. I'm assuming he's another exception to this SHIELD is compromised rule? You guys might have to make me a chart or something. So I don't go assuming the wrong things." The last thing he needs is to try to ice out the wrong people. Not that he makes a habit out of doing that, but he's not gonna make friends with them if they're bad news.

She's right though. Choking someone out would just put them in bad spirits. Then again if she did it to Bucky he might not be that upset about it in the long run. "I've had a few women get rough with me, but that was mostly in bed. I mean if you're volunteering I don't think I'd say no." He just smiles because honestly who'd say no to that? "What kinda weird? Five day bender hangover weird or different personality weird?"

"Coulson's our exception to everything," she answers with a faint quirk of her lips, a definite hint of fondness in her tone. She falls silent for a moment before continuing. "New York could have gone a lot differently without him. And some of us might not have even made it that far for the same reason. All of us owe him a great deal."

There's not a lot of people that get that amount of respect and admiration from Natasha.

Keeping the conversation from turning too serious, however, she flashes him a grin once more. "But if you need a chart I'm sure something can be arranged. Especially since we've practically got our own little commune here. Anyone in particular you want to know about?"

His flirting has her grin turning sly as she shoots him a sideways glance. "You don't think, huh? You don't sound so certain about that. And the weird personality part. I'm not sure there's anyone here that it's happened to yet so I can't verify it for fact."

"I'll be sure to keep an eye out for the guy. Maybe we'll be friends." Because he can respect someone that can hold together a group of people like them. It probably takes a lot of energy and man power. He'll try to keep his SHIELD skepticism out of the equation. "Not really. I mean a lowdown about your story would be interesting. How you can take down people like that and make grown men swoon would be good information to have."

Sam's not one to hide things. He's certainly never been one to hide when he's attracted to another human being. Which was proved when he didn't hesitate to greet Natasha the first day he saw her. It's just his way. "All I can see is that at least I'd go to sleep happy."

"You'd probably like Coulson. The pair of you can fanboy over Steve together," she adds with a hint of a smirk as she stretches, then lets her hands fall to her hips in a relaxed pose. His question about her story has her arching an eyebrow, giving him a look.

"My story's not all that interesting. I'm the normal person on the team, remember? No flying suits of armor, no spangly shield. Not even a magical hammer. Which is a shame. I think I'd like having a magical hammer. Think Thor's got an extra?"

It's a deflection with humor, but Natasha doesn't often talk about her past. There's a reason it's in the past. And also highly classified.

"It's usually important to also wake up that way."

"I don't fanboy over Steve. If anything he fanboys over me. Not that I blame the guy." If he thought that dusting off his shoulder wasn't incredibly lame there is a very big chance that Sam would be doing just that. He's impressed with Steve's talent and natural ability to lead, but he's not really a fanboy. He's always tried to look at Steve from a more normal guy aspect. Makes it easier when they talk. If he saw the guy as Captain America all the time they probably would have had a harder time clicking.

She may not have a suit of armor or a hammer, but that doesn't make her less interesting. Sam's not a genius like Stark or Banner, but he's not an idiot either. He can understand what she's trying to do. She wants to remain out of the spotlight. That includes not telling Sam her whole story. He'll drop it for now. Eventually they're gonna have to go down that road though. Especially since there have been way too many secrets with this whole group.

Sam chuckles and shrugs his shoulders. "That depends. You gonna be there when I wake up?" He jogs ahead of her and turns to face her as he goes backward. "If you're gonna be there when I wake up then I could get on board, Natasha. Especially if you're in that leather number. Never gets old."

"It's not leather," she calls back, laughing as he jogs ahead and she's fine with that, keeping an eye out behind him all the same. "Besides, that could get terribly uncomfortable if there were sweat involved." Not that she clarified if that was from sex or something else equally strenuous. She left it to his imagination.

Then again, sometimes with her it was a little of both. Not that she was feeding his imagination any more than necessary right now.

"I usually prefer to avoid the awkward morning afters. Unless there's coffee. Then I might make an exception."

Besides, the lighter topic of conversation is much easier to follow through than where that other line of questioning was going. She's relieved when he lets it.

"What the hell is it?" He hasn't exactly paid close enough attention to clock the fabric. He mostly looks at the things it covers. The way it curves and clutches. He's not blind. It's harder not to notice it. "Oh. You can bet your ass there would be sweat involved." Because it never really gets old doing this with her. Sometimes moments like these let Sam relax a little better. He feels more like his old self like this.

He laughs a little harder now and tilts his head backwards. "Ah. So if I made you coffee then you'd stay the night with me? I'll keep that in mind. I'll also be investing in a coffee pot for my room. What kinda coffee we talking? Imported? Something fancy? What are you expecting?"

She's grinning as she lets one shoulder lift and fall in a shrug. "Some sort of advanced synthetic they were testing. I liked the feel of it. It was flexible." Oh the innuendo that can be hinted at in this conversation. This is why she loves hanging out and talking with Sam. "Are we betting on this now? Way to up the stakes on me, Wilson. Do you have a gambling problem I should know about? First my hair as a deadly weapon and now this."

She's grinning at the way she's made him laugh, looking pleased with herself and she puts on a burst of speed to catch up with him, jogging beside him now even though he was still pointed the wrong way. "I don't need anything fancy. As long as it's strong and dark, I'm easy to please. The bolder the better. Trust me, no one wants to deal with me before my morning coffee."

"Are you aware of the way you say things? I think there are a handful of dudes inside rolling around on the floor because of the way you said flexible, Natasha." Which is pretty much a gift that he's almost certain she's worked a very long time to perfect. "I dunno. Do you have a sexual innuendo one you failed to tell me about? I just feel like I should have all the facts here." Because they were supposed to be jogging, but now he's pretty sure she's trying to bring him to his knees or something equally sinister.

When she catches up it takes a moment for Sam to actually turn himself around to face the right way. "Strong and dark? You're doing it again aren't you? You're gonna get me in trouble with Steve. You better stop it if you don't mean it. Cause I'm liable to ask you to that little bar and test your resolve."

"Less work for me that way," she shoots back, a knowing smirk on her lips as she jogs at his side. Also she is very hurt right now that he suspects her of anything sinister. Really, Sam. "Technically, you started it. Besides, I like playing my cards close to my chest. A little mystery's good for you. Keeps things interesting."

She gives him enough space for him to right himself before falling in at his side again, impish humor still remaining solidly in place. "I think you can yourself in trouble with Steve all on your own, without my help. Although I won't tell if you don't. Although are you sure testing my resolve at the bar is a good idea? I'm Russian, remember."

That hadn't gone so well for Bucky, after all. She wondered what Steve would say if she showed up at his doorstep with his other partner drunk and stumbling after she'd drunk him under the table?

"Right. So you like men on their back? You like being on top huh?" This is probably the worst conversation that anyone can have while they're jogging. It definitely doesn't help you focus. It's a miracle that Sam hasn't started running in circles or zig-zag. He's a professional though. If he can desperately trail behind Steve Rogers then he handle some innuendo with Natasha. Least he hopes so. He could veer off and hurt himself if he's not careful.

His brows shoot up and he nods as they jog. "Never said I was gonna drink you under the table, Nat. I really don't have a death wish and that's what I'm pretty sure would happen if I tried. I was thinking of it in a more--don't even know what to call it. Guess you'd call it a date. Do SHIELD agents go on dates that often? I don't imagine they would with all that running and shooting. Seems like it'd keep you guys pretty busy."

She considers answering that one way, then changes her mind and gives him a cheeky grin. "I'm flexible," is the only answer she'll give him, and he can take that as he will.

"A date, huh?" She lets her expression melt into one of thoughtful consideration for a moment. "I think I've heard of those. Thought they were made up as a plot device for romantic comedies. You're telling me those are real? Huh."

"It's just mean now." Because what man doesn't let his mind wander just a bit when a woman tells you she's flexible like that. What man doesn't wander when Natasha Romanoff tells you that. He's only human. "Yeah. They're real. They're kind of a big deal. Real big on human interaction. They're important. They don't always suck either. I have to say I'm pretty damn good at them."

"Are you now? That's good to know. I'll make note of that," she answers, her lips still curved into a smirk as she jogs beside him, casting a glance over him again at his statement. "Maybe I'll let you show me how it's done then, one of these nights. I'm always out for trying new things. You're sure they don't suck?"

"I'm kind of an expert." He laughs. Sam is also really good at tooting his own horn. It's easier when Steve Rogers isn't around and lapping you like you're not even trying. It just makes Sam look like an elderly man despite the fact that Steve is well into his nineties. Jerk. "Dates with me are kinda awesome. If we had to pay for things here then I'd definitely be paying for everything, but we'll pretend I did. If you're lucky--I'll let you get a little handsy, Nat."

"I don't rely on luck," she counters, her smirk deepening a moment as she gives him another sideways look, enjoying the playful flirting. "But now you've got my expectations up, Wilson. I guess we'll have to see if you're all talk or not."

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[open] out for all that i can get

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