"So, go on Steve," Natasha sat up on her feet, getting a numb backside from the long car journey.
She wriggled her hand back into the bag of peanuts which sat in the cubby hole between the stick shift and the dash. A handful of nuts were poured into her mouth while she washed the guy at the wheel.
"Are you?" She muttered through a mouthful.
The captain rocked his head awkwardly from side to side before sighing deeply.
"Yes."
Natasha found herself grinning until she noted the irritated look on Steve's face.
"It's nothing to get bummed down about," she paused to eat another few peanuts, watching and waiting for the obvious return question.
Eventually it came.
"What about you then?"
Natasha snorted,
"Steven Rogers, are you asking me, me of all people, if I'm a virgin." She struggled to get the words out behind the laughter but it was so ridiculous an idea even if part of her dreamed it could be true.
Steve grinned, cheekily. He shook his head, "Like I told you before, I'm 94- not dead." He paused, losing his smile. " were you young?"
Natasha felt her body stiffen. Usually she lied, told them she'd been older, more mature and equipped but Cap, he was so honest. Cap deserved the truth, and she knew he would keep it to himself. Her eyes went to the window, she swallowed even though her mouth was dry at the thought.
"I was fourteen."
"Fourteen!" Cap's response was instant, he was shocked, possibly saddened, by what he had just heard. There was silence in the car before Steve let out a slow long breath.
"You were a child." He wasn't laughing now, and that worried Natasha.
"It wasn't illegal - in Russia - no one did any lasting damage. It was part of the job."
Steve fell back into silence. Natasha didn't know what else to say. It was a sore subject for anyone but her. In a way she felt it had helped her. She didn't really enjoy sex, not in the way people described it. Sure it happened now and again- although most guys didn't want a girl who had better Abs than they did - but she wasn't the sexual deviant most people thought she was. It was a job, that was all.
"And hey," Nat shrugged, " Clint was only thirteen."
Steve's eyes flashed from the road to Natasha briefly.
"How do you-? When I was a boy you'd never speak to girl about those sorts of things. What happened in the bedroom wasn't stuff you knew about, except from dirty magazines or older boys."
Natasha grinned.
"I know, it's shocking old man, I mean you see much more than ankles these days."
Steve nudged her, rolled his eyes and smiled.
