"Hey, Natasha."
She turned around, her curls bobbing around her chin when she was facing him. "Anything new?" she asked.
Steve replied, "Well, I was going to ask you if you could help me with catching up with music."
Natasha gave a small grin. "I don't think you would like the music today, Cap. Besides, that would take a while."
"At least for a few decades?" he asked. "Tony said something about rock and roll. What's rock and roll? And heavy metal? And rap and—"
Natasha waved her hand to cut him off. "Yeah, maybe we should catch you up. I'll have to get others help on this, though."
"Thanks Nat."
Her expression lightened. "Anytime."
A few days later, there was a knock on his door. Steve opened it up to see Natasha there, a CD player tucked in one arm and a pile of CDs in the other. "Let's start with the late forties."
Steve opened the door wider for Natasha to come through. She came in, putting the CD player down on the counter.
"I could've helped you carry that up," he said, gesturing toward the CD player.
"It's fine," she said.
She plugged it in. "Now, I can't play you every song from every artist that's ever existed, but I do have the top songs from each year of each era on here, plus some."
"And how did you manage to do that?"
"The internet." She smiled. "You're going to have fun with that."
"Tony's showed me some," he murmured. "My head hurts just thinking about it."
"In good time." She opened the CD player. "Let's get started."
Hearing year after year of new music was almost overwhelming. She would come over every evening and they would listen, switching to a new decade after three days or so. He didn't mind rock and roll, but the heavy rock made him hesitant. Dubstep and techno and such didn't suit his fancy either; if he as honest, he really didn't like any music after the 60's. He felt much more comfortable with the music he grew up with, although he did like artists like Bobby Darin and Dean Martin, and he was pleased where Frank Sinatra went.
Natasha would smile at his reactions. She could tell he lost interest after his era was done and over, but it was always entertaining when she introduced him to the music that was way out of his comfort zone. It was also amusing to wash his shocked reactions to the vulgarity of today's music.
"Steve," she asked one day as they were almost done. "When's your birthday?"
"You're going to laugh."
"No I'm not."
He sighed. "July 4th."
A smile broke out on her face.
"You said you weren't going to laugh."
"I'm not, I'm not. It's just like fate planned for you to be Captain America."
"I know." He rolled his eyes.
The song ended. Turning her attention to the CD player, she announced, "Well, that's that."
He closed his eyes and leaned back. "What happened?"
"That's what a lot of people ask."
"I don't want to be mean, but today's music…."
"I know. I'm personally not a fan."
He sighed. "To each his own, right?"
"To each his own," she agreed.
She stood up, unplugging and picking the CD player.
"It was nice seeing you," he said.
"It was nice teaching you," she replied, heading for the door.
He scrambled to beat her there, opening it up. "See you tomorrow."
"Later, Steve."
As she as leaving, he said, "Wait."
She turned around. "Hm?"
"Can… can we hang out again sometime?" he asked.
"Steve, I would love too."
He leaned in to her before hesitating and leaning back. "See you later."
He closed the door behind her, leaving her to wonder what he had to think about for a moment before saying goodbye.