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Bucky finishes up with the vets and covertly watches Natasha have a pretty intense phone call. He knows he needs to get a move on if he's going to have lunch with Steve and Sam but he feels like it's kind of rude if he doesn't at least extend her an invitation to come along; she's done a lot for him this week and he doesn't like not recognizing that.

Hey. It's James. You wanna tag along for lunch? I'm taking the car, you don't even have to hang onto me on the bike.

The text arrived during the middle of her last call, and when she disconnected, she took a minute or so to cool her blood pressure. Having those particular conversations never went over very well, and she hated having to have them, but there were consequences to every choice, and the reporters had been told, damnit.

Reading the message, however, did make her smile slightly, and she headed outside for a breath of air. Apparently her client was still inside, and that was fine; he could have as much time as he wanted to spend with his compatriots.

Thank you for the invitation, James. I really appreciate. But I wouldn't want to impose;m you should enjoy the afternoon with your friends.

Still, offer is definitely open for you.

Bucky is slightly disappointed she doesn't make it but he still has a fantastic time with Steve and Bucky. The paparazzi get a few pictures of him but that's expected and really, this is one of the most wholesome things he could be doing after this week. He hates that his weekly visit to the vets turned into a show but Natasha seems to be handling that.

"So, guys, should I get Natasha a present?"

Sam laughs softly. "Don't get attached to her, Bucky. She's so professional that I'm pretty sure the grass frosts over when she walks on it. She's good at what she does but I think she's immune even to your charm."

Across the table, Steve quirked a brow. "Wow, Sam, you make her sound like The Ice Queen, or something. Surely she's not that frosty, right?"

Sam chortled. "I dunno, but man, she's got a tough outer shell. Our boy here was flirting like Steve McQueen on steroids, and she just let it roll right on off." He grinned at Bucky, more than amused. "Still, it's about time we find you a new serious girlfriend, might keep you outta any more trouble." He took a bite of his sandwich, then propped elbows on the table. "Any ideas?"

Steve weighed in with, "Hey, what about that really good-looking, nice lady from your last tour, the press manager? What was her name...Dot something?" The blond grinned. "She was more than available, Buck, wasn't she?"

"A little too available if you ask me," Bucky says, just a little grumpy about it. Dot seemed to be interested in the stage presence more than just him and it makes sense - it's what most women want. Bucky wants someone who just wants him for himself.

"She was nice but I don't like it when people are blinded by the celebrity. Natasha is appealing because she seems completely immune to it." Steve considers that for a moment before looking at the two of them.

"Invite her over for the cookout, then. All she can do is say no and then you'll go on as you have.

Bucky thinks it's not a bad idea so he picks up his phone and texts Natasha again.

Hey, sorry to bother you but the guys want you to come over to the cookout tomorrow and I'd like you there too. Please?

Natasha was in the middle of another meeting with a difference client when the text arrived. Customarily keeping her phone on silent during live meetings, it was several hours before she had the opportunity to check it. Seeing the message again made her smile; it seemed that Mr. Barnes was determined to draft her into his little cadre of "one of the guys". It was flattering, really.

And what was the harm? Just a friendly afternoon of barbeque and beer. Who knew, maybe she'd actually enjoy herself for a change? And there was the possibility that Alex might even join her; he'd said that his weekend was free, amazingly. They spent so little time together as it was. So, that in mind, she forwarded her reply.

I'd be delighted to accept, James. Thank you for the invitation. Would it be permissible to bring along a friend? And casual attire, yes?

Bucky hadn't been expecting a plus one. He figured Natasha didn't live with anyone or anything other than a cat or a goldfish, given how she handled him, but he realizes there's very little he knows about her and there's nothing in her office that says anything about her personally.

Bring whoever you want, we've got plenty of room and plenty of food. If you've got a dog, they're welcome too. Brooklyn loves playmates.

The following afternoon, a Mustang convertible arrived at the Barnes mansion in Malibu, and was admitted entrance thanks to the redhead in the passenger seat. A tall blond was driving, and whatever he thought about the place, he kept to himself as he parked the car and opened the door for Natasha.

He did, however, say, "Surprising, you mingling with a client," with a slightly cynical smile. Natasha, comfortably casual in a cashmere blouse, white silk slacks, and sensible flats, merely shrugged. "He invited us. I accepted. He seems a decent bloke, compared to the usual."

Alex offered his arm and chuckled, remarking, "Well, he invited the cat, so that smacks of a little weirdness."

"I'm sure it was just a joke," the redhead quipped back. "We're just here for the food and the beer, da?"

Everyone else at this cookout is dressed far more casually than Natasha and her companion but these cookouts are always casual. They're for family and friends, for staff that are basically friends, and, of course, all of the pets.

Bucky is a little shocked to see that Natasha's brought a guy with her but he makes his way over anyway and offers his hand.

"Hi, I'm Bucky," he says, smiling at Natasha and the guy. "I know Natasha but I don't think we've met?"

At least Alex was correct in jeans, an untucked polo shirt, and his flight jacket. He took the sunglasses from his nose and returned the handshake, firmly, saying, "Alex Shostakov, US Air Force." Tall, blond, and perfect, right down to the chiseled cheekbones and brilliant blue eyes, the pilot casually appraised their host, finally giving a small nod.

"Thanks for the invite, Mr. Barnes." His smile gleamed. "My girl's talked about nothing else since yesterday afternoon."

At his side, Natasha smiled dutifully, meeting Bucky's gaze and gave her own tiny nod of affirmation. "Well, yes. I might have brought Liho with us, too, but she doesn't really do well in crowds." A beat later, she added, "Our cat."

His girl. Well, Bucky's interest in Natasha was apparently inappropriate but he guesses it's not his fault for not knowing she was attached. If he'd known, maybe he wouldn't have flirted with her, but now he does. Still, she's beautiful and it's hard not to look.

Natasha mentions the cat and he laughs; no, cats don't do well in crowds and especially not outside.

"Yeah, she might not like my dog too much. Get some food and grab a drink, mingle around. Everyone's great."

Indeed, the backyard was full of people of all ages, colors, sizes, and social statuses. Predictably, after a few introductions, Alex deposited Natasha near the buffet with a few of the band member's wives, and strolled off to make his own conquests, just as he always did. "Men" didn't need to have their "women" always underfoot, after all.

So Natasha pasted on her "professional" smile, nibbled from her plate now and again, and made polite small talk where she was required. She knew Alex would be keeping a close eye on her, despite his apparent nonchalance, so she didn't dare leave the open yard. Far worse if he actually came looking for her.

She did meet Brooklyn, Bucky's dog, who quite promptly charmed her to a chaise lounge so that she might sit and scratch silky ears, and Natasha sat for a while doing just that, watching the waves out over the Pacific; truly, a stunning landscape.

Bucky comes and finds Natasha after a little while when he realizes his dog has taken her off to a corner by herself. Brooklyn is good at stuff like that - he's just a mix from the pound and God knows what's in him but it doesn't matter. He still lives like a king.

"See that you made a new friend," Bucky says, grinning at her. "Where's your guy? I figured you'd be making the rounds with my sisters and stuff. They all seemed to really like you."

Natasha glanced up as the shadow fell over her, politely smiling a hello at the party's host. "He's a sweet boy," she agreed, ruffling furry ears and stroking the dog's head. And God knew, animals didn't expect her to "mingle" and "make connections" everywhere she went. But that line of thought was sour, so she shoved it aside.

Only to have Barnes ask about "her guy". "Alex?" Natasha took a quick gulp of her cocktail, waving with her fingers. "Oh, over there somewhere, probably regaling the other guys with stories of his daring and prowess, like most pilots do." The breeze tossed her ponytail, and she absently pulled red curls out of her face.

Hearing that his sisters thought well of her was...nice, but she gave a slight shrug. "Oh, actually I'm not much of a joiner. I do enough of that for a living. Still, it's nice to be invited." Another small, polite smile. "You really do have a lovely home...James."

"Thank you," Bucky says. He frowns a little when she says she's not a joiner, though, and shrugs a little. There's a spot next to Natasha and sits down, immediately garnering the attention of his dog.

"Look, I want you here. So does everyone else, I'm sure. There's no reason why you can't go and have a good time. I'm surprised Alex just left you, though. I wouldn't have left my girlfriend by herself at a party of people we don't know."

Natasha put both hands around her glass when Brooklyn abandoned her to crawl into his master's lap, but she didn't mind. She did, however, cross her knees a little more securely, and straighten her posture to an upright attentiveness, completely unaware of doing so.

Her tone was friendly, however. "I'm having a good time," she assured him. Then chuckled lightly. "Any time I can just sit and not have to play out my conversation four sentences ahead is a good time for me, I promise." The mention of Alex quieted her again, and Natasha once more shrugged.

"It's his way," she tried to explain, casual and off-hand. Again she tucked curls behind one ear. "He's used to us working the crowds, meeting people, making contacts. Always working," she chuckled, though the words were...a little flat. "I just...prefer to sit, is all."

"Well, nothing wrong with stealing a little time with Brooklyn," Bucky says, laughing softly. "He's gotten me through all the good times and the bad over the last couple years. He's a good friend to have. There's someone here I do want you to meet if you feel up to it, though. I thought you might want to meet the guy I tore up a bar for."

Steve has been his best friend since they were kids and they've done everything together - school, the Army, college. Different majors and specialties, maybe, but always together.

"His name's Steve. Teaches art at one of the public schools in LA."

Ah, the famous Steve. The one who'd started it all. And was by no means at fault, Natasha knew; she doubted Steve Rogers had even been at the bar when the fight had begun. Bucky Barnes' best friend, she'd learned, and both of them had been friends since they were tots, all the way through high school, the Army, and college. Although it seemed their lives had sharply diverted afterwards, with Barnes rising straight to stardom with a music career and Rogers opting for the more normal route, teaching art at one of the public schools in Los Angeles.

"I'm up to it," she replied, dutifully straightening from her chair, once more proper and correct. It was habit by now. "And I'd definitely love to meet him. I've heard nothing but good things about him, from you, Mr. Wilson, and everyone else I've talked with here."

"He's the best guy you'll ever meet," Bucky says. And he is, truly. Bucky thinks that the best parts of him are because he knows Steve and because they have their friendship. It helps him keep his head on straight and reminds him of where he's from.

Steve's talking to Becca who seems to be batting her eyes at him and Bucky wants to roll his; he's not sure when that crush started but he doesn't know that it's gonna work out for his baby sister because Steve is kind of oblivious.

"Steve, this is Natasha Romanoff. She's one of my new lawyers and she's kinda cleaning up my mess right now." Steve offers one of his hands to shake hers. "Good to meet you, Ms. Romanoff. Glad you're helping Bucky out right now."

Natasha shook the offered hand with firm panache, offering a return smile. "Mr. Rogers," she echoed, voice warm. "It's lovely to meet you, too. I've heard so many good things in just a short time." She'd immediately noticed Barnes' youngest sister before they approached, and she wondered just how far Miss Barnes had gotten with the tall blond teacher.

Wilson moseyed over a moment later, drink in his hand, and talk centered mainly around the three men, laughing and giving each other sarcasm as thick as peanut butter. It was funny, their friendly roasting, and Natasha caught herself laughing outright more than once, especially when a well-thrust jibe from Steve Rogers hit James Barnes right in the chest.

So caught up was she in the friendly camaraderie that when strong male arms suddenly materialized around her waist and Alex's cologne flooded her nose, she stiffened in sheer reflex, expression immediately going from amused and animated to shuttered and closed. "Hey, babe," he drawled at her ear, "seems like you're having a good time, huh?"

Her throat felt tight as a noose, but she recovered and managed to nod, politely correct. "I am, yeah."

"Oh, Steve, this is um, Alexi? This is Ms. Romanoff's companion," Bucky says and it comes out awkward as hell. Natasha looks awkward, as if someone has just said something unpleasant, but it's not his place to get into the middle of a relationship no matter what it looks like from the outside. He doesn't know what's going on at home.

"Alexi Shostakov," the other man adds. It's clear that he has charm but it's different than the casual charm of the other three and more like he's working a room. Hmm. Not exactly how these cookouts usually go but Natasha is new to it. Her guy is new to it.

Steve and Sam make an attempt at engaging in conversation but everything feels more awkward now as if something had broken when Alexi had showed up. It shouldn't feel like that, but it does, and Bucky breaks things up a little.

"Hey, I'm gonna get my guitar out and play a little if you guys want to come listen?"

Edited 2021-11-27 01:58 (UTC)

Sam and Steve nodded, immediately approving, and Miss Barnes happily seconded the idea, bouncing around the yard to make the announcement to everyone else. The gathering ended up an impromptu concert, with guests parked here and there, and Natasha was more or less obliged to share a chaise with Alex, as he'd left her precious little choice in the matter, pulling her along when he took the seat.

A few of the other musicians joined in, and while Natasha would have liked to just focus on the songs, she was all too conscious of her public image, particularly seated as she was, crossways in Alex's lap, his arms around her a little more possessively than was necessary.

Bucky notices how Alex has Natasha hauled across him and it's not something he would have done with his girl at a party where he didn't know anyone. That stuff is private. Still, it's not his business, and he finishes up his set as the party breaks up.

He goes to find Natasha before she leaves and confirms the next time they'll meet. "I've got to prepare another appearance with you, right? You're calling me on Monday?"

By the times Barnes returned, Natasha had once again adopted her cool, smooth mask, pure porcelain. "Yes, Monday," she affirmed. "Probably around nine am, nine-thirty. We'll discuss the new press release, and set up next week's schedule then."

"Thanks for the invite, Barnes," Alex remarked just then, holding out a large hand. "Nice place, good folks, great food. And for the little concert - keeps the bills paid, right?"

Bucky frowns a little. "Yeah, it keeps the bills paid just a little. You realize I made all this money myself, right?"

Bucky doesn't normally talk about money, it's rude, but he feels slighted in a way, like his work doesn't matter, and that doesn't sit right with him. Hmm. He needs to keep his mouth to himself.

"It's about the music, not the money, but I do well. Enough that I have six Grammys."

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