Chapter 3
Steve avoided Natasha's eyes, as he pulled a plate of pirozhki towards himself and started eating.
He polished off those with a bowl of Russian salad, and was halfway through a plate of kotlety before he spoke again.
He still did not look up as he asked, "I've never going to be able to date anyone, am I?"
"Sure you will" Natasha told him. She'd made short work of her own dumplings and meatballs and watching Steve pack it in was starting to make her feel full, so she returned to sampling the vodka.
She thought for a moment. "Have you considered finding a date close to home?"
"One of my neighbours?"
Natasha chuckled. "No, I meant someone who works for SHEILD. Though, that would include any and all of the people who live in your building."
"I suppose that might help me to avoid some awkward questions about why I don't really get technology or pop culture." Steve said lightly.
"How about Maria Hill?" Natasha said casually.
Steve nearly choked on a bite of kotlety He coughed it up, and then tried to clear his throat with a shot of vodka, which led to another violent bout of coughing. Natasha watched him calmly, pouring another vodka into her mouth.
"Very funny" Steve grumbled.
"She is a woman, contrary to popular belief" Natasha told him. "And she's always checking out your ass, so I'm willing to bet she'd be amenable to a date. Maybe more..."
Steve frowned deeply and shook his head.
"Just a thought."
She smiled up at the waitress as the woman brought a fresh bottle of vodka. Natasha refilled Steve's glass, so he took a sip.
"Are you a virgin?" Natasha asked him.
Steve practically spat the vodka in her face from shock. He covered his mouth with his napkin and had another coughing fit.
The waitress brought him over a glass of water, and patted him sympathetically on the back, muttering in Russian to Natasha, "he can't hold his vodka, can he?"
Natasha smirked at her. She waited until the waitress had left before speaking again. "I'm sorry. That was blunt."
"That's a very personal question" Steve said quietly.
"It's no big deal if you are" Natasha told him.
"Well, people act like it is. It wasn't a big deal back in my day-"
"-Was if you were a woman" Natasha cut in. "Nobody wanted a gal if she was damaged goods."
Steve nodded slightly in assent. "Even back then it didn't have to be a big deal if you were discreet about it. Kids these days... they rush into physical stuff soon as they can, just to prove a point on how 'grown-up' they are. And when something goes wrong- there's a pregnancy, or they get an infection... they're not mature enough to deal with those consequences. That's why people waited back in my day..."
"Or had shotgun weddings" Natasha said with a tiny smile.
"Yeah. There were a lot of those, I suppose. Especially for servicemen."
"So how come you never..." Natasha shrugged. She drained another glass.
Steve gave a humourless laugh "Because up until my early twenties, I couldn't find a gal who even wanted to hold my hand. And then... well after Rebirth..." he sighed. "There were opportunities. Many opportunities, actually- I'm not boasting, things really changed for me across the board.
But I didn't... I didn't want it to just happen. And then I actually went off to war, and that complicated things..." he shrugged.
"Well, it's nobody's business, Steve."
He gave her a very grim smile "Tell that to Tony. You know... he offered to hire me a... professional lady. To, uh, how did he put it? Relieve me of the flower of my manhood. What does that even mean?" Steve exclaimed. His face burned with shame.
Natasha rolled her eyes "Who knows- sounds like classic Stark. He probably didn't mean to piss you off..."
"No. He was drunk at the time, so I forgave him for being a meddling jerk. He's as bad as his father. And his advice is just about as helpful."
Natasha reached across the table and rubbed Steve's hand. "Don't be ashamed," she murmured. "And don't ever let anyone rush you into anything."
"I won't. I just get sick of the little comments, just from the guys. Like they're implying something's wrong with me." He said, averting his eyes.
"Nothing's wrong with you, mishku. It's your body. No one can tell you what to do with it. It's your private business, just ignore them. It'll happen when the time is right."
Steve blushed harder "I know," he said quietly. He swallowed nervously and shrugged. "Even if it doesn't... that's okay."
"Hey, it'll happen for you." Natasha reassured him. "And if it doesn't... there's always Maria Hill" Natasha said.
Steve burst out laughing.
"Don't laugh. I bet, given a chance, she'd be on you in a heartbeat. It'd be like watching a lioness hunt a wounded zebra." Natasha deadpanned.
"Stop it! I have to work with her. I'm not going to be able to look her in the eyes!" Steve complained, clutching his stomach.
"Why, because you'll see the lust there, now?" Natasha joked.
Steve buried his face in his hands and laughed. "You are depraved!" he groaned.
Natasha smiled at him. "I got you laughing, though, Captain Serious. It's a good look for you- you have a lovely smile."
Steve clutched his full, aching stomach, and looked down shyly "Yeah, I think I needed it. The conversation has been a bit... dire all night."
Natasha shrugged.
"I'm sorry. It this was an actual date, you'd be so bored and depressed."
"If this was an actual date, hopefully we wouldn't be having intensely personal conversations like this. At least, not until the fourth date."
"Fourth date, really?" Steve said, cringing. "So what am I supposed to talk about on dates one through three?" he was frowning again.
"Have a couple of topics lined up that you can talk about... movies, art, food... and just get as much mileage as you can out of them."
"But what if she brings up something I don't know about? Something really obvious that it would be strange me not knowing?"
"Change the subject."
"Oh. But then I'll look like a jerk."
"You'd look like a jerk anyway."
"Good point. Uh, okay... what if she starts talking about something in particular I don't know, like a band, or an old TV show?"
"Let her talk about it, and maybe you'll learn something. Then if you like her, and want to see her again, go home and Google it so you can talk about it with her next time. Or... if the situation gets really complicated, make an excuse to go to the bathroom and quickly research it on your phone."
"Hey! That's a great idea!"
"See. Not all technology sucks."
"Just fax machines and microwaves."
"Yeah. Everyone hates fax machines."
"I just... I have to be careful not to put my foot in my mouth... I'm worried I'll say the wrong thing, and look like a fool. The other day, I walked in on a conversation Tony and Clint were having about Franz Ferdinand. I thought they were talking about Archduke Ferdinand of Austro-Hungary; so I started talking about the First World War... they looked at me like I was nuts."
"Franz Ferdinand is rock band from Scotland, dorogoĭ"
"Well, I know that now!" Steve grumbled. "But it sure gave them a laugh. Can you imagine if I said that in front of a date?"
Natasha inclined her head thoughtfully. "You could always say you were joking."
"No. That wouldn't work. You've seen how easily I blush."
"Hmmm... we need to work on that. But I suppose if you hang out with fools like us long enough, we'll soon cure you of it."
"Great" Steve said dryly.
They sat in companionable silence for several minutes, continuing to taste the vodka.
Natasha was many glasses ahead of Steve, and starting to feel very relaxed. Despite his fast metabolism even Steve seemed to have loosened up.
He was gazing longingly at the menu. Natasha smiled. "I feel like I won't be able to eat for a week, but you're already hungry again, aren't you?"
Steve looked sheepish and shrugged.
"Order more food," Natasha encouraged. "Then I won't look like a drunkard when I order more vodka."
… … … …
Author's notes: I hate fax machines, and writing about food makes me hungry! The restaurant here is based upon an actual restaurant in Melbourne, but it's Polish, not Russian. If you ever come to Melbourne, we're going there.
Obligatory disclaimer: I own nothing.