[A/N] Also written for Brucenat Week '19. Thank you for reading!
He watches as Natasha packs, quickly approaching the last second of pre-departure. There have been so many opportunities—much better opportunities—for him to ask this, but they've come and gone. In the wake of his persistent self-guessing and hesitation, he'd squandered those chances and left himself with this. This, which is now the single chance he has left.
The fact that he feels ridiculous even before speaking doesn't help with his phrasing or tone, "How would you feel about…um…"
She's paused what's she's doing to look at him in wait. There's no going back.
"What do you think about driving to Clint and Laura's?"
This is the epitome of last minute—the worst time to ask. They'd already arranged a flight. Driving would be inefficient, excessive, a time sink. He's thought of those responses and more, and he won't be upset if she brings up any one of them. The thing is, it's her he's asking, not anyone else, and she reminds him of what a magnificent enigma she can be, how she can and will always be able to surprise him.
Arms crossed over her chest, she responds with a purposeful nonchalance, "Sounds like a road trip."
Unsure of what else to say, he offers dumbly, "Yeah."
"Like the kind of thing you see in movies—music, fast food…"
He fills in the rest with what he's imagined, "Sightseeing, open roads—maybe a bed and breakfast or something." He catches himself before he gets too entangled in the daydream of it. "I don't know."
"I do." She grins. It's a variation of a dreamcatcher, where she snags the doubts that could make a moment like this less luminous. She absolutely beams, even through the softest of her expressions. "Let's do it."
The gears in his brain jolt to a halt. The shock renders him speechless, capable only of making faces that display his malfunctioning mind.
Completely aware of what's unfolding in his head, she takes the reins and outlines the path forward and out. "You call Clint, I'll call Pepper, we'll pack some more stuff and head out."
"Um…" He sputters, refreshes his mind. "We're gonna need a road map."
She smirks as she turns back to her bag. "That's your job."
He recovers enough to tease her, "Aren't you supposed to be the expert navigator?"
A sock bundle smacks him square between the shoulders as he walks away. He looks back to tell her, "Nice shot."
Though she no longer faces him, he can see how bright she glows.