ostavil | open post

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.

Practice made perfect, or so the saying went. She'd altered her appearance enough that it was rote by now, but tonight was simply about dressing up enough to sparkle, not to shine. The dress she'd bought was lovely, yards of ombre midnight blue silk fading into cerulean in a pool about her feet, just enough gemstones across the bodice and single shoulder strap to catch the light. Diamonds in her ears, a matching necklace around her throat, and deep scarlet curls artfully arranged in a "pinup" style to cascade over her pale bare shoulder.

Red lips, pale skin, and the dress brought out the flecks of indigo deep in cat-green eyes, and only half an hour after she'd slipped into the bathroom, Natalia was ready. She gazed at herself in the mirror, steeling her nerves, then slipped on her shoes, sensible enough for dancing but more than elegant enough.

A date. With her boss. The father of her child. God. Surely this was insanity, but why not? He was sweet, kind, an absolutely wonderful father, and magnificently gorgeous, to boot. Even though she knew it'd be stupid to let herself fall, even a little, Natalia thought that she might, she might, be able to slide at least halfway over that cliff before she caught herself. Well, here's hoping.

Soft smile on her lips, she touched perfume to her wrists and the soft skin beneath her ears, capped the bottle, then opened the bathroom door. "All done. Are we ready?"

Bucky stares at her for a long moment, utterly stunned. While he's known that Natalie is beautiful, he's never seen her like this before and he's half tempted to ask if she wants to skip the gala and just stay in the suite with a bottle of champagne. It's highly inappropriate though and dangerous, considering how much he wants her.

And oh, but he wants. He's wanted for a long time but not as much as he does now. He crosses over to her and touches her bare shoulder, trailing his fingertip along the length of her arm before pulling it away.

"This? This is a good dress," he says. It's stupid but it's the only thing he can think of. "You look beautiful."

She honest-go-God blushed. Natalia felt heat flooding her cheeks, inexplicably, and she lowered her lashes, dropping her gaze, wondering why that simple compliment sent heat coursing beneath her skin. And the gentle touch of that single fingertip left gooseflesh in its wake, and she had the sudden urge to run out of this hotel and never look back.

Dangerous, oh yes. And beyond that.

Somehow, she managed to untangle her tongue enough to reply in a girlish voice, "...thank you." She smoothed the material down over her front. "I thought it would go well with your suit, since we're...going together."

Natalia lifted her eyes, and, unable to help herself, gently adjusted the lapels of James's jacket, resolutely pulling her hands away to keep from sliding them beneath it, just to feel the swell of that defined chest beneath the fine fabric. On cue, her phone chimed, a reminder set for the Gala's starting.

"We should...probably get going. Sir."

"No sirs," Bucky gently reminds her. "I'm James, remember? This is a date and I'm not having my dates call me sir. That's a whole box of issues that I don't even care to open or address. It's not my cup of tea and I just...I haven't been on a date in a while. Can we pretend?"

Maybe it's too much to ask from her but he wants it to be a real date and not a contrived one. He's lonely and, more than that, he feels a connection with her unlike anything he's had in a long, long time.

It doesn't hurt that Becca adores Natalie.

"If that's not comfortable for you, I'll back off, but I don't get a lot of time to date. It'd be nice to have one."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. Force of habit." She reached for James's hands, lacing her fingers with his. "I don't get a lot of time to date either, so we're both out of practice." She let herself drift close, close enough to smell the cologne warmed by his skin, and it flooded her senses, sending even more heat spiraling through her.

"It's fine, James. Promise. This can be our date, just yours and mine." Releasing one of his hands to pick up her clutch, Natalia gave him a little tug towards the door. "But we better get going, if we want to get started on it." Fashionably late only went so far.

Once they get to the Gala proper, there's plenty of people to see and plenty of things stronger than apple juice. Bucky opts for champagne and he nabs two flutes of it from a traveling waiter, offering one to Natalie as soon as he gets a chance.

"Better get it before it's gone," he teases, tipping his glass back and letting the alcohol tip down his throat. "I'll need a little if you intend to get me to dance. It's been so long since I've had a dance partner that I'll probably make you look bad out there."

He flashes her a brilliant grin, though, hoping she'll forgive him for any future dancing mishaps.

The champaghe was delicious, cold and crisp on her tongue, and she took a long sip in turn, smiling indulgently at her "date" as he endeavored to unwind a little. She didn't blame him in the slightest. But as soon as word traveled through the crowd that James Barnes had arrived, he did indeed get mobbed, just as she'd predicted, by well-wishers, investors, do-gooders, other high powered executives, and finally Tony Stark himself, sailing through the hoard with Pepper in tow.

"Buuuuckyyyyy!" Stark caroled, "just the man I wanna see. How're you? You look great. Where's your date? Oh, Natalie came with you? Smashing. God, she looks gorgeous, you dog you. But seriously. Marry that girl, Barnes, you know she's the best thing that's ever happened to you. Because if you don't, I might, hear me? Babe, what, don't look at me like that, I'm just sayin'..." And on and on he sailed, all but dragging his top engineer through the ballroom, leaving Natalia and Pepper to follow on a little more sedately.

"Just ignore him, Miss Rushman," Pepper smiled, nodding at a few acquaintances. "You know how he is." Natalia laughed, shaking her head lightly. "Oh, I do, Miss Potts. Don't worry, I know he doesn't mean anything by it."

Bucky wants to duck and hide when Stark finds him but really, there's no avoiding him here. He'd think that Tony had already been in the champagne except this is perfectly sober behavior, honestly, and being dragged out onto the dance floor is nothing new. Bucky follows, looking over his shoulder at Pepper and Natalie, and gives him a helpless smile.

"Are you planning to steal me as your date?" Bucky asks. Stark roars laughing at that and makes an attempt to spin him around the floor before delivering him back to Natalie.

"Nah. I'm not nearly the eye candy she is. Hey! That hurt, you know," he cries out, clearly in response to a pinch from Pepper, and Bucky doesn't bother stifling his laugh. He takes Natalie's hand in his own.

"Do you want to dance? We're here and all and otherwise I'll get all embarrassed."

"Sure, I'd love to." They might as well, considering they were already on the dance floor and the orchestra was just starting a nice, slow waltz. Leaving her clutch on their table, Natalia smoothed out her dress and took James' offered hand, letting him position them both with her hand in his and the other resting lightly on his shoulder.

"It's been a while since I've waltzed," she warned him, glancing briefly at their feet. "High school prom, in fact." She wanted to make him feel less self-conscious about his own too-long drought. "So apologies in advance if I spoil the shine on your shoes, James."

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