ostavil | open post

"Settled, then. I'll drop you by your place before we go home," Bucky says, flashing a grin at her. What work he has left is just going to have to hold over for tomorrow. He's been at Stark Tower for far too long today and he has to get his Becca-bug ready for bed and read her the required four bedtime stories before she goes to sleep.

"Where are you at? You in Manhattan? Don't break my heart and say something horrible like Queens or Staten Island."

He grins even wider and bites the corner of his lip, trying to see if the joke lands or not.

Natalia had to laugh as she gathered up their coloring instruments, placing everything back in its place neatly. "Oh, no, sir." She shook her head, then picked up Rebecca's overcoat to help the little girl into it. "I live in Bay Ridge, on Brooklyn's west side. Just a small studio apartment, but it's in a nice building, at least." Natalia smirked slightly. "Right across the street from Victoria's Secret and a good wine shop, so I'm covered." Her eyebrow arched slightly as she glanced at him through her lashes. "...relatively speaking."

She knew he was currently living in his parent's old brownstone over in Sheepshead Bay, a middle-upper class community that had grown exponentially over the past two decades or so. And had deliberately chosen the residence for herself; not too far, not too close. But situated just enough so she could keep an eye on her daughter...and her daughter's father, as it was turning out.

"That's...not too far out of your way, is it?"

"Oh, so you're practically on the way. Good to know you're a Brooklyn gal like we are. I would have been disappointed if you weren't, honestly, because we like you so much." Bucky grins at her again and motions for her to follow him. He'd driven in himself this morning so he has his own car and there's plenty of room for them all.

"I live in my parents' place. They're gone but I keep the place up, try to keep it in the style it was when we were kids. Feels like I'm home home, if that makes sense? This Stark stuff is too modern for me. I'm more of a comfy couch kind of guy, not clean lines and metal. At least outside of the office, anyway. Kinda have to go with the style here."

He's rambling, he knows, but he'll keep rambling in the face of her. He lifts Becca up. "Time to go."

She had his briefcase in one hand and her own satchel over the other shoulder, and the three of them rode the elevator down to the parking garage in companionable quiet. Rebecca was already yawning, her small head resting on her father's broad shoulder, and she whined a little when Bucky strapped her into her car seat.

Natalia situated the rest of their belongings on the opposite side, and slid into the passenger seat of her boss's nice SUV, saying as they exited the garage, "I think it's nice, that you still live in your childhood home. Someplace safe, and familiar." She gazed out of the darkly tinted window, watching the lights of New York slide by. "That's rare, these days."

A pause, then she added, quietly, "I don't even remember my parents."

"Foster kid?" Bucky asks, squinting a little as he tries to puzzle it out. He knows that happens, sometimes. He knows sometimes kids get lost in the system and never end up having a stable home and that they eventually age out and end up on their own. It makes him sad that Natalie might have been one of those kids and fiercely protective of her the way he is of Becca.

"Or something different? You don't have to tell me if you don't want. I know that's personal stuff." Becca is still babbling and chattering from the backseat and Bucky engages in a little of the back and forth, trying to fill the silence in case Natalie doesn't want to answer.

"Mmm, something like that." Natalia smiled briefly, but it was brittle. "I was...raised, for lack of a better word, in a girl's home. Very instutionalized, very structured. Sort of like...kiddy boot camp, I guess." She glanced at him briefly, then turned back to the window. "I definitely don't miss it, that's for sure."

Then she chuckled, and placed her left hand lightly on Bucky's arm. "You don't have to worry about a lawsuit, Mr. Barnes," Natalia told him. "I'm not going to press charges or sue you if you get a little...personal sometimes. I'm not a helpless little girl, I can take care of myself, promise."

She wanted him to be at his ease with her, not to trip over himself with everything he said. She knew better than to get involved, definitely, but by damn, she just couldn't help herself. The man was gorgeous, attractive in all the right ways, and wasn't even aware of it.

"And I like working for you," Natalia shrugged. "It's a good job, has great benefits, and I get to play with this little princess every once in a while." She smiled towards the backseat, playfully wrinkling her nose at Rebecca.

"Miss Natty! Miss Natty says Imma princess like you say, Daddy," Becca chirps and the worry in his brow about Natalie growing up in some sort of strict group home fades away. It still bothers him, deep down, but it's something she's come to terms with and it isn't helping anyone for him to brood about it.

He puts the car in drive and starts making his way to Natalie's place, occasionally taking a direction from his GPS. Not much of a distraction, though, because he's reasonably sure where that Victoria's Secret and wine shop are so he's got his bearings more or less.

"I had a problem I wanted to ask your help with if you don't mind," Bucky says. It's a weird way to phrase it, a problem, but maybe that'll make Natalie more inclined to help him out.

"Of course you're a princess, pretty girl," Natalia told Rebecca with a little laugh, reaching back and giving the girl's leg a gentle pinch. "The best princess, too." Rebecca giggled and flailed her feet, wiggling happily, and her mother turned back around to face the front with a soft sigh.

But her boss's question had her eyebrows lifting, because that was certainly an odd way to phrase something. Yet, she was his executive assistant; it was her responsibility to help out in whatever way she could. "Of course. I'll do whatever I can to help, Mr. Barnes."

"I just thought since I didn't have a date to the Gala, you might be able to help me. Of course, if you already have a date, I wouldn't want to impose. You should be able to go with anyone you want. I just don't have time to date anyone and so this is something I'd have to go to alone."

And it'd be embarrassing, considering how high up in the company he is. Still, nothing would look wrong about him coming with his secretary, would it? He doesn't think so. Even if he's attracted to her.

"No obligations, no strings. Just...that."

Her brow furrowed slightly, but then she remembered. Yes, the semi-annual Charity Gala, one of Stark's whirlwind fundraising parties was scheduled for the following weekend. And her boss didn't have a date. Nor did she, because honestly she'd just intended to wear something demure and unobtrusive, and blend in with the servitors while keeping an eye on her child's father.

But since he asked... "I...don't, actually." Natalia chuckled lightly. "As if you ever give me time to have a social life, Mr. Barnes." Which didn't bother her in the least. "But at least all those hours save me from sitting in a corner at some random bar like the rest of the pathetic single women in this city." She laughed again, lightly.

"So, sure. I'll go with you. And even take notes, since I'm positive Stark will have all of the dignitaries on the guest list, and they're going to want to talk shop before everyone's soused."

"Notes? That sounds terrible. And they should probably talk to Ms. Potts if they ever want to talk to Mr. Stark," Bucky points out. "She's the one who coordinates his whole life, not him, and it'd be more reliable that way. I'm hoping I can at least get one dance. Otherwise I wouldn't need a date, would I?"

Becca pipes up about dancing like a princess and Bucky laughs. "That's right, Bug. Miss Natalie is going to dress up like a princess and go to a ball with Daddy. She won't be the prettiest princess, though. That's always going to be you."

This time, she laughed outright. "No, silly. You're the Head of Design and Development, Mr. Barnes. They'll be courting you, since they all know they don't have a prayer of getting to Mr. Stark." Her eyebrow went up curiously, however. "I didn't realize you knew how to dance. That'll be...interesting."

Natalia shook her head in amusement at the banter between father and daughter, but he was right, in any case. "The krasivaya printsessa," she agreed, glancing over her shoulder at the little girl. Then she glanced out of the passenger window. "Oh, here's my street. And that's my building, right there."

Bucky swings around and drops her off. He'd walk her up to the door, normally, but with Becca in the car and fading fast, he needs to get home to put her to bed. She'll probably be asleep by the time they pull in their drive and he's not wrong; it's nothing to lift her up and put her to bed.

It's not that long until the Gala and when the time comes around, he's not shocked that Natalie has already ordered his tux. He'd gotten a suite in the hotel so they could get dressed and, frankly, so he could stumble up drunk after the party.

"Thanks for coming with me," Bucky says, smiling at her as they get ready to leave the office. "Means a lot."

"You're welcome," she replied, adjusting the collar of her long coat as the elevator doors slid open. She'd already had their bags couriered over to The Grand, to save them the hassle of lugging them from Stark Tower over to the hotel. And it seemed almost impossible that tonight was the night of the Gala; it'd only been a week and a half since she'd agreed to accompany her boss to the party.

The last few days had flown by, however; with not one but two new tech designs premiering this past week. The usual schedule was one or two a month, but James Barnes and his team of talented artists had broken the mold yet again and put the finishing touches on two gigantic projects, resulting in an even bigger reason to celebrate other than the charity fundraiser.

That meant, of course, that the past week and a half had consisted of sometimes fourteen hour days, a metric ton of overtime for staff and engineers alike, and a battleship's worth of tension on the Development floor, as nerves frayed and tempers shortened to almost invisible lengths. But through it all, Natalia had done her absolute best to ensure that her boss's days ran smoothly; triaging his schedule as much as she could to help him keep hold of his sanity. A few late evening dinners with her krasivaya printsessa had assisted to that goal, and it was always good to see a genuine smile on James Barnes' expressive face.

But now, the work was done, it was time to leave the office behind and embrace a little revelry, although Natalia had an idea that the evening was just going to be champagne, boring conversation, and looking decorative. Well, that was fine, too.

"Everything's waiting at the hotel," she reported as they descended to the parking garage. "Hogan's giving us a lift, and we'll have plenty of time to get ready before the Gala actually starts."

"What would I do without you?" Bucky asks, utterly guileless, and he gives her what he hopes is a dazzling smile. It's been a long week for everyone and he knows there's been times when he hasn't been at his best; he must have snapped at someone at least once even if his memory doesn't recall it right now.

"I'm looking forward to a night where I can actually...I don't know. Let go a little. Not too much, I don't want to make an ass of myself because I'm still representing the company, but drinking something stronger than apple juice is a rarity in my life."

His coffee is strong enough to walk off but champagne is a different kind of high. He touches his hand to Natalie's shoulder before they get into the car. She's so tiny, next to him, and his hand looks oversized against her delicate body.

"Thank you. Again. For everything you do."

"Flounder, most likely," she teased back with a soft little smirk. His own dazzling smile didn't go unnoticed, judging by the butterflies now flying laps in the pit of her stomach. To keep her cool facade, Natalia gave her curls a tiny toss, quipping, "But you have me, so let's get going, yes?"

But his commentary about drinking something stronger than apple juice made her giggle; apple juice was Becca-Bug's absolutely favorite. "Don't worry, Mr. Barnes," the redhead assured him, lifting her hand to cover his where it rested on her shoulder. "I'll take care of you tonight. Go ahead and have a good time."

Hogan then ushered them both into the car, and Natalia slid in first, scooting over to give her large boss enough room. The drive was thankfully short, and they were gliding up to the curb at The Grand Hotel in less than twenty minutes.

Natalia waited while Barnes checked them in, and reported as they headed to the elevator, "Your suit has already been delivered." A thin line of annoyance crimped her brow and her lips thinned as she added, "I wish you'd have at least tried it on before tonight, so it's not my fault if it's too tight. You'll...just have to hold your breath."

"I don't know if I told you or not," Bucky says, laughing at the way her face is crimped at the idea of his suit not fitting and he knows his shoulders are broad as a linebacker's (makes sense, sense he was one).

"But you can call me James. Or Bucky. You don't have to call me Mr. Barnes if we're on a date and I think this is a date even if it is work-adjacent. So I don't mind if you leave the formality aside, Natalie, I really don't."

He pairs it with a grin, hoping to ease the tension for himself.

"It's not funny," she told him tartly, pushing the button for the seventh floor. "It's not my fault if you rip a seam or lose a button tonight, sir." The offer to use his first name took her a little aback, however, and Natalia felt herself stumble over her tongue just a moment.

"...J-James, then." It sounded much nicer, more elegant, than Bucky. --even if Tony Stark did singsong the nickname every time he popped up on the Development floor, headed to his top engineer's office.

Then her eyebrow went up. "This is a date?" She vented a soft snort. "I thought we were just putting on a good show for the investors and being decorative until they were all drunk enough to see double."

"Well, it's a date," Bucky says cautiously. "I wouldn't want you to think it isn't. Maybe I'm not...let's just say that if you weren't under me I would have considered this a date and would have already asked you on one."

It isn't something he should be telling her but he does anyway, wanting to make sure she knows that he feels something for her even if it's a bad idea to pursue it with their positions.

"I hope that doesn't make you uncomfortable."

It was simply too much of an open door for her to just ignore it. "But you like having me under you, right?" And her lips curved in a siren's sly little smirk, just as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. "I'm not at all uncomfortable...James. Quite the opposite, in point of fact."

That said, she patted his arm lightly and stepped into the hallway, her high heels making little noise on the thick carpet. "What's the room number?" She knew, but he had the card key, and somehow, all of this was making the tension between them, typically thrumming at a low, easy volume, begin to increase exponentially.

Bucky sputters for a moment, not sure that those words had come out of the mouth of his secretary, and it takes his brain a little while to catch up to what she's asked him. Oh, right, the room number. He fishes out one of his keycards and hands it to her.

"It's 1090," he manages, still watching her with a little bit of shock. Is that...all right. Well, she hadn't slapped him at least. She'd encouraged him if anything.

"Is this...what are we doing? You don't feel pressured into this?"

"You just said this was a date," Natalia pointed out easily, taking the card key and progressing on down the hall. "And that you wanted to drink something stronger than apple juice, right?" Finding the door, she inserted the card, waited until the lock flashed green, then pressed the handle and it opened easily.

"So let go a little, hm? And no, I don't feel pressured. You asked, you didn't threaten my job if I said no, and we more or less get along with each other. So," she shrugged, "let's just enjoy tonight, da?" The redhead stepped further into the suite, flipped on the lights, and placed her overcoat and satchel on the nearby sideboard.

"I'll cede you the bathroom first, since it'll take me a bit to get ready."

"Da? Are we Russian now?" Bucky asks, laughing as he makes his way to the bathroom with his carefully-made suit. He does hope it fits properly since he hadn't been the best of dates and let Natalie measure him for it; she deserves to be with someone who is going to be dressed properly for the occasion.

"I'll be out in a minute." The suit is all right, even if it is a little tight across the shoulders, and it's nothing that Bucky thinks is going to be noticeable by anyone but him. He pairs it with diamond cufflinks and a little cologne before taming his hair down with a little gel just so it isn't everywhere.

"All yours now," he says, coming out and back into the main room of the suite. "I'm officially ready."

"I happen to speak several languages," Natalia told him a bit loftily, turning on a few more lamps throughout the suite. "Russian is just one of my favorites." All right, so that lie wasn't too large, but it was as good an excuse as any.

She busied herself setting out her paraphernalia while her boss changed; makeup bag, shoes, clutch, jewelry, and thought about unzipping her dress bag, but opted against it. Less to carry into the bathroom, when it was finally her turn.

And when the door opened, she at least had enough time to brace herself before she turned around, automatically biting the inside of her cheek at what walked out of that door. God. She'd been absolutely right; that dark grey suit set off those blue eyes and dark hair like beacons, and Bucky was tanned just enough to keep from looking washed out and pale. Natalia gave herself props for the suit's fit - it wasn't too small, after all.

She crossed her arms, nibbled on her lower lip some more, and slowly lifted her eyebrows. "...you look...devastatingly handsome, James. Sir." He was going to get mobbed, tonight. Gathering up her things, Natalia gave him a brief smile. "I'll...try not to take too long."

Pink flags his cheeks for a moment at being called devastatingly handsome by a woman that he's had a crush on for a while. Crush is probably juvenile but it's the only word he has for how his breath catches and his heart races when she's near him. It's stupid to fall for anyone when he has Becca to worry about but he has fallen a little for Natalie Rushman.

He sits in one of the chairs in the sitting room of the suite and looks at his phone; he checks in with Becca's babysitter and exchanges a few texts and flips through a few work emails. They've been neck deep in projects all week and email has backed up as a result. Nothing is on fire, though, and the most urgent things are handled with a quick reply.

He's eager to see what Natalie's picked out for the Gala. It's work adjacent, sure, but it's also a date as far as Bucky's concerned. He wants it to be a date, anyway, and he hopes she wants the same thing.

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