"You doing anything fun saturday night?" Natasha Romanov asked her partner next to her while adjusting her headgear. Fiddling with it as if she were nervous about what she would say next.
"Well, all the guys in my barbershop quartet are dead, so no, not really." Captain America said half jokingly and gave her look while toying with the earpiece he had clipped to his ear, moving his glare back at the ground.
"You know, if you asked Kristen out from statistics, she'd probably say yes," the red head lightly smirked as the captain turned. Almost as if looking at her in disbelief.
"That's why I don't ask." He lightly said in all seriousness as the quinjet opened. A train of air stormed in, blowing the agent's hair.
"Too shy or too scared?" She shouted over the noise of the rushing air, loud and clear, as if anxious to know the answer. As if demanding a reason why.
He gave a dry glance before replying, "Too busy!" as he jumped out of the quinjet and into the darkness below.
"Was he wearing a parachute?"
"No. No he wasn't."
"Agent Romanoff, you may have above normal healing rate, but that does not allow you access to irrational danger!"
"Director, if i may-"
"Agent, you are to do as you say. Not break orders and jump out of a quinjet going 150 miles per hour!"
"...I slipped?"
"You are dismissed."
"Nat! what were you thinking! jumping out of a plane without a parachute! You could've died!"
"Clint, I'm perfectly fine."
"Nat...why did you jump out of the plane after him?"
"I'm fine, Clint, I'll be fine."