"Are you ready, my dear?" Hank called up the main stairway.
"Almost!" Natasha called back. She had stopped in the hall to check herself over. "Good, my earrings are straight and I haven't fallen in these heels." she thought to herself. She took a few deep breaths. She was really going on a date with Hank! She had to cover her mouth to keep from sqealing. This was fantastic!
She sighed, closed her eyes, composed herself, and smoothed out her dress. "I hope I'm fancy enough," she thought, suddenly worried. When she had asked her date what to wear, he had said "casual formal". Was she too fancy? She sighed and shook her head. "No-no, I'm fine," she insisted. Realizing that quarreling with herself wasn't getting her any closer to Hank, she stopped, composed herself once more, and took a deep breath. Here we go.
Hank went slack-jawed as Natasha descended the stairs.
"Oh my..." She was wearing a black silk dress that stopped just above the knees, with a slit in the left side up to the middle of her thigh. She had tall black leather high-heeled boots on, and he was impressed that she didn't even stumble. Her hair was curled and up in a loose bun, with some loose strands hanging down, and she had applied just enough make-up.
"Well?" she asked a bit nervously, doing a little turn after she was off of the stairs.
"Natasha, my darling, you look amazing," he complimented, taking her hand and kissing the top of it. She let a small giggle escape, and instantly covered her mouth with her free hand.
"Thank you, Hank," she replied, holding back a blush. "You look beautiful as well," she added, patting his arm.
"Why thank you, Natasha," he said, doing a little bow in his fancy white silk button-up and black slacks.
"Oh my god, that was adorable!" she screamed inwardly, but outside she just chuckled.
"You are very welcome," she laughed, and he laughed a bit as well.
"Oh goodness, we better get a move on or our reservations will be skipped!" he exclaimed, leading her out into the cold night.
Natasha gasped at what was parked in front of the fountain.
"A horse drawn carriage?" she gasped. "In New York."
"Just for you, my dear," he responed, grinning. He helped her up into the carriage, told the driver the adress, then climbed in on the other side. He must have seen how cold she was, because he wrapped an arm around her bare shoulders, making her very greatful.
Eventually they arrived in front of a really fancy restaurant. After dismounting and paying, the two of them stepped inside.
The entire was beautifully crafted. The walls were hant-painted, there were hand-made vases and paintings displayed everywhere, and very fancy Greek collumns were around the whole place.
"Reservation for two; McCoy," Hank told the woman at the front desk. She stared at him with eyes as round as saucers.
"R-Right this way, Mr. McCoy," she stammered, picking up two menus and leading them to a booth.
"Thank you, madam," he said, nodding politely to the woman. She adjusted her glasses, gace a shaky nod, and walked away, muttering to herself.
"So Hank," Natasha started, looking over the menu, "what all do you do besides expieriment and research?"
"Oh plenty of things. I love books-the whole library is basically mine-and I read and write poetry."
"Oh, you write poetry!" she exclaimed. "God you are so perfect..." He chuckled and nodded.
"I do. Would you like to hear some?"
"Yes, absolutely!" she exclaimed, inntrugued.
"Alright, here's one. Ahem..." Before he could recite it, however, a teenager walked up to table, asking what they would like to order.
After recieving their food and drink, the two of them sat and chowed down. Natasha tried to be her most polite when it came to eating, but she had a feeling she wasn't that successful. The waitress came back about an hour later, while Beast was singing along to what played on the radio overhead and Natashs was laughing hysterically.
"It's a good thing Beast reserved a private room," she thought, realizing how loud they probably were. Hank stopped his song and looked at the waiter, who looked somewhere between laughing and scared.
"Oh, I do apologize; I'm not very good," he added, laughing.
"You were great!" Natasha said, trying to control her laughter.
"I would be a lot better if I weren't trying not to laugh," he admitted, shrugging. The waitress stood there uncomfortably, not really knowing what to do.
"Oh, Hank, the bill," Natasha reminded him, and he chuckled.
"I apologize, miss, may we have the bill?" he asked the teen politely. She nodded and pulled out the little black book. She looked kind of caught inbetween trying to hand it to him or set it on the table, so she did the latter. Giving a small "have a nice night", she bustled out of the room. Hank payed the bill, gave a generous tip, and got to his feet. He went around the table, pulled out Natasha's chair for her, then helped her get to her feet.
"Wow, Hank, that was amazing!" Natasha sighed contently while sitting in the carriage, her hand enterlaced with Hank's.
"Oh don't thank me; I didn't make or serve the food. I did, however, eat the food," he added with a chuckle. Natasha laughed out loud.
"Haha, so did I."
They arrived back at the mansion, Hank payed the driver again, and then turned to Natasha, who was standing beside him.
"Y'know, Hank, I had a really nice time," she said, smiing up at her crush.
She looked above Hank's head and gasped. Hanging from the edge of the porch was a sprig of miseltoe. The blue doctor looked up and smiled.
"Ah; miseltoe. Just a wonderous plant. It's poisonous when eaten by humans and some species of animals." He looked down at Natasha with a smile. "But around the holidays, it is anything but poisonous."
"Merry Christmas, Natasha." And with that, Hank bent down and kissed her tenderly.