"You might not hear many more of them," he said.
"You don't really think that," she said, searching his expression. "Do you?"
"I have to consider the possibility." He shrugged. "There's a real chance I'll never put on the uniform again."
She took a sip of her drink and mulled over the idea.
"Maybe it's for the best. 'Captain America' is an antiquated idea anyway."
"In fairness—"
"If you call me antiquated, Romanoff…"
She grinned. "You have your own museum exhibit." Her smile faded. "I can't imagine a world that doesn't need you."
"It's not a bad thing." He sighed. "An unemployed soldier. No more wars?"
She shook her head slowly. "You know my thoughts on that."
"It's that or something so terrible they have no choice but to take us back." He leaned back in his chair. "I'd prefer to think it won't come to that. But if it does, then every fight brings us closer to losing someone."
"Rock and a hard place." She said softly. "Can't live without the fight, but the cost of fighting is too high."
He clinked his glass against hers. "I wasn't prepared for this much introspection."
"Sorry." She studied her glass for a moment. "It's the vodka. I should have stuck with champagne."
"No, it's… refreshing."
She looked up at him.
"What, you think I have these kinds of conversations with Tony?"
She laughed. "I figured you had somebody. For all its faults, SHIELD did have good benefits. And dental."
"Nah," he shook his head. "I don't like talking to strangers."
"Probably for the best. All things considered."
"I couldn't risk spilling my deepest and darkest to a Hydra agent."
Thunder rumbled softly in the distance. He could just make out the hint of clouds on the edge of the sky rolling towards the city. In a few minutes it would rain. The faint wail of a siren grew louder then faded as it went by.
"We should go in," he said.
"No." She set her glass down on the table. "I like the rain."
The wind whispered through the trees, and the rushing sound of the rain grew louder. The lights flickered almost imperceptibly. Fat rain drops began to fall.
"We're going to get soaked!" He said, raising his voice over the downpour. Lightening flashed and a few moments later, thunder boomed around them.
"You aren't afraid of a little rain, are you?"
Rain drops splashed into their glasses. It ran through his hair and down his collar. It dripped down the bridge of his nose and soaked through his trousers. Natasha's hair stuck to her cheeks, and her mascara had begun to run. Her dress clung to her.
"Take my jacket!" He took it off and held it open for her.
She shook her head, laughing.
Just below, the patio was hastily broken down as waiters rushed to move tables and chairs inside. They turned up the music to drown out the rain, and the faint notes of a waltz drifted up to them. She stood up and walked to the other side of the balcony.
"Probably shouldn't sit in iron chairs, though," she called.
Lightening crackled down, briefly illuminating the valley below and surrounding forest. Thunder clapped, making someone below scream in surprise. He tossed his jacket inside the room and joined her. His shirt clung to him and he squinted through the rain.