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Who: Natasha & Bucky
Where: A room in the mansion.
When: 6/11.
Rating: PG; warnings will be added where needed.
Summary: Two assassins play hide and seek. No, really.

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[ She's waiting in a room on the seventh floor — empty this time of day. In one place, for as long as it takes him to comb the house. She counts to ten in a few languages. She considers the use of moving to a different hiding spot every few minutes, prolonging the chase. Ultimately, that's not the point of this exercise. It's to know if he starts top floor down or first floor up. If he looks in the places he expects to find her and then the rest. If he'll call out, in play, expecting a scuffle. Natasha has a knife on her and two in her boot; thrill settled into her spine. She fits the space, and she waits for his footsteps. ]

[ The mansion only rises ten floors, but the number of rooms is infinite. He could spend his whole life opening doors, trying to find her, but he wasn't made a hunter to be so easily misled. He thinks about where he would go, first.

There's a sort of calm readiness that settles in him as he hunts. He's never had occasion to enjoy it particularly, but there's a certain satisfaction to being good at what he does.

He starts at the center floor and thinks - down would make for an easy exit. Up would give the strategic advantage. He goes up.

There's some guesswork from there, a few dead ends, but he finds the room she's taken.

He goes around and lets himself in through the window. He lands lightly on his feet, not entirely silent. He wonders if he'll have to look further, or of she's prepared an ambush as a reward. ]

[ His footsteps are soft, silent to anyone else's ears: she won't be caught off-guard a second time. The thrill is not in knowing he could kill her if she does this the wrong way. That, she knows, as surely as he knows she'd kill him if he was anything less than careful. It's in counting: how many of her tactics he knows already, and which one he expects her to use so he can counter. Sequence after sequence. Life isn't battle math all the time, but often enough. ]

[ As soon as he's in the room, she moves from the light fixture — not silent, loud enough to announce herself and silence any killer instincts, and drops down on his shoulders, for a friendly scuffle. ]

Boo.

[ He's expecting her, like she was expecting him. He braces for her, knees bent, even as her weight jars his shoulders. He grunts, but not in pain. Boo, she says. Very funny.

He reaches for her thighs to pry at them before he can buck her off his shoulders. He doubts her intention is to snap his neck, but he isn't enough of a fool to thrash in her grip and expect it to be easily shaken. ]

[ Excuse you Barnes, she's hilarious. Natasha moves and kicks him in the back before he can solidly throw her off; when he straightens and turns to fight, she's ready, smirking. ]

[ She thinks she's hilarious.

His balance shifts from the kick, but he recovers quickly. He turns, closing the distance between them without hesitation, but he doesn't plan to draw a weapon before she does. He had known from the start that she would be a well-matched partner. She has more experience than him, so he doesn't mind being handled this way, but that doesn't mean the lead is hers alone.

A fight is a conversation. For a long time, it was the only language he could speak. She moves like she's been in the thick of it since her first word. He can't help but think: she's amazing. It comes as no surprise, when he ends up on his back.

It's not that he's happy about losing. There will be another match. The smile he gives her isn't wide, but still boyish. ] Next time we should play some jazz.

[ Natasha matches him, making him work just a bit to keep up; not too much. The idea isn't to instantly overpower him, just get a sense of his limits. He is precise, and he's kept himself sharp. Always did impress her. ]

[ She reaches out a hand to help him up, mirroring his smile. ]

Next time. You hide, I seek?

[ He takes her hand to haul himself up. She's stronger than she looks - but he knew that already. ]

Deal. [ He inclines his head. ] Lunch?

[ It's a small thing, to let someone do that. It says a lot. ]

Only if you're buying.

In that case, it's brunch.

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no subject

your icon choices are unfair just fyi

it's too late for u to quit

it's fine im already in pain

good

:|

your meta is rude

UR RUDE

u were first

excuse ??