Arc 3, Chapter 1, Steve's Party: Steve, Thor, James, Natasha

[clint_barton]

Steve, Thor, Natasha and James mingle; Natasha and James take their exit.

 Steve is heading over to Thor, gazing at the food spread with a mix of dismay and awe.  Tony really, really shouldn’t have. But it is an amazing spread.  Everything on the menu is just about as all American as you can get but with an ‘upscale’ twist and there is a lot of it.  Nearing Thor he can’t help but smile at the god-turned-man’s enthusiasm.  It’s good to seem him back in good spirits.  He can’t stay frustrated at Tony for long.  Coming up beside the larger man, Steve he claps him on the shoulder.

“It’s pretty impressive,”  He grins, “Tony is the man to go to for excessive parties.”  He turns his attention to Natalia and Bucky, the grin getting wider.  “Excuse me, Miss Romanoff, I need to hug my friend.”  Stepping forward he pulls Bucky into a tight, though not quite bone crushing hug and slaps him on the back.  “Its great to see you.”  Stepping back he gestures, “Thor, this is James “Bucky” Barnes.  He was my partner in World War II.  A great guy.  I think you two will get along.  Bucky, this is the Thor you’ve heard so much about.”  Smiling comes easier now and he finally finds himself relaxing.

There are times when James wonders if Steve remembers he doesn’t share the super soldier strength, and that slap on the back is one of those moments.  ”Sorry about the drive-by greeting earlier,” he says to Steve, and then he extends his hand to Thor.  ”Good to meet you, sir.  You’ll have to excuse me if I don’t know how to introduce myself to a god.”

It’s always good to be surrounded by this many smiling people, and especially good to see Cap smiling.  James feels a lot more comfortable and at home here than he has in quite a while.

 “Privet, Mr. Odinson,” says Natasha, waving from the wrist, leaned against James.  For some reason she feels a little off-balance.  It couldn’t be the heels, they’re only two-and-a-half inches, she’s worn higher before.  Not that it matters.  She’s in a very good mood—her volke’s arm around her waist, surrounded by attractive men (and women, she notes, glancing appreciatively at Jane Foster’s lovely face), vodka burning slow in her stomach, and, best of all, she is off the clock.  ”Be sure to leave some for the rest of us, big boy, da?”

She tosses her head, to get her hair out of her face, and the whole world tilts like a carnival ride.  ”Whoops—!”  She stumbles, catches herself on James’s shoulder, and bursts out laughing, bent over, holding her stomach.  ”Blyad,” she gasps, her sides and cheeks aching.  She hasn’t laughed this hard since—since—since she can’t remember when.  ”Sorry, sorry,” she manages, giggling, waving a hand placatingly at Steve, because she knows he understands what she just said and might be offended.

Eventually she collects herself, wiping her eyes and standing up straight.  ”I’m so sorry,” she says, “I—I have no idea what has me so stupid right now, I have not even finished my first vodka.”  It comes out wodka.

She turns to Thor, lays a hand on one thick arm.  ”No hard feelings about earlier?” she says.  ”I, well, I did mean everything I said, but honestly I went about all of it very much the wrong way, and I do apologize for, ah, getting up in your face.  It is a very nice face, though.”  She pats his cheek, smiling fondly.

He shakes his head in response to Steve, chuckling. “No, my friend. Excessive to you, perhaps, but this reminds me of home.”

Thor’s eyes flick down to James’ hand, then the food in his own. After a slight pause he shoves the drumstick into his mouth and thoroughly wipes the grease off on his shirt before accepting the shake.

Of course, Natasha’s touch breaks his pleasant mindset. Unlike last time, however, Thor is just…confused. He isn’t sure whether it’s the alcohol talking or Natasha herself, and he stares blankly back at her in silence as he works to chew through what food is still in his mouth. 

“Ah…no. No hard feelings.” He says after a moment, and means it. After all, he never wanted to hurt Natasha— or anyone else— with his actions. The matter was between himself and Agent Coulson, as far as Thor was concerned.

“It is in the past now.”

Natalia was being especially amicable which eased a little of Steve’s worry and Thor’s hesitant but sincere acceptance of her ‘apology’ smoothed out the rest.  “I’m glad you two are okay.  I was a little worried I’d never be able to let you be in the same room again.”  And before, he’d been angry at his fellow agent.  But now?  It really wasn’t so bad as he remembered.  Even her cursing was accepted with an indulgent smile and a raised eyebrow.

He’d picked up a bottle of cream soda while next to the bad and he took a deep drink from it.  “All the same, I’m glad everyone is having a good time.  We should make sure the locals know they can come enjoy the Fourth with us.”   He turns to Thor and his good-natured smile goes a bit impressed, “So, you and Jane?  That seems to be going well.”

James holds his balance as Natasha staggers and grabs for his shoulder, and he cocks a concerned smile at her, brow furrowing, before reaching to grab the half-emptied bottle of vodka from her hand.

“I…think you’ve had enough of that, Tashka,” he says, giving her hip a little pat as he slips his arm around to help her stay upright. ”We might excuse ourselves to sit down again.”

At any rate, he’s realizing he’s getting thirsty in the desert’s evening heat, so he takes a swig from the bottle himself.

“If you’re done talking to Thor, that is,” he adds to Natasha.

“What?  I haven’t even finished half of it!” says Natasha indignantly.  A concerned look passes over her face.  ”Haven’t I?  That’s strange.  I am no lightweight, you know this, James, I should not be this drunk!”

She slips into Russian halfway through the sentence, without quite realizing it.

“And yes, I have said what I wanted to say to Odinson,” she adds.  ”I believe you are right, you and I need to sit down.”  She walks her fingers up his arm, smirking coyly.  ”We have…catching up to do, yes?”

She throws her arm around his neck and kisses him full on the mouth.

“And don’t call me Tashka,” she says, pulling away.

Thor tries not to stare, but their closeness brings memories of Jane’s touch to the forefront of his mind. He can still feel her fingernails scratching gently at his chest, the sweetness of her kiss. Steve’s words barely register.

“Mm? You saw that, did you?” His attention snaps a bit too eagerly over to his friend.”Yes. Well enough, though I feel as if I have just made my danger her own…”

“I do not know…” Thor says, his voice distant and more than a little troubled despite her presence. He sets his chin atop her head and forces out whatever humor he can manage considering the situation. “But if you wake up without any hair, I promise we will find you a very nice wig instead.”

 “<I’ll call you whatever I want,>” James says softly in Russian, tipping his forehead to the top of her head and grinning.  Maybe it’s the heat, but he’s feeling a touch lightheaded himself.

He tugs on her arm and pulls her away from Thor and Steve as they start up conversation again, and he gives a short wave to Steve with the bottle still in his hand as they step away.

“I’ll give you a call soon, Cap; I think you’re about to have your hands full,” he says, nodding towards Tony Stark.

Once they’re safely away from whatever in the hell Stark is doing (setting up a big enough party to entertain a few hundred, it seems), James pulls Natasha into another kiss, then takes another drink from her vodka, now claimed thoroughly as his.  ”<I think things are about to get a little louder than I’d like here.  There’s a motel in town.  Should we escape?>”

“<Sounds like a good idea to me,>” says Natasha, biting the corner of her lip through a grin.  She taps his chest with a long red fingernail, draws a wobbly heart on his shirt.  ”<Stark’s parties were always much too big for my taste.  Too many people.  Too much competition.  Yeah?  I always liked things to be a little more…intimate.  But what am I saying?  You knew that.>”

She snags his collar with two fingers.  ”<Come on, then,>” she says.  ”<Let’s go, before you finish off my vodka.>”