A Sorta Fairytale

I Tried to Downplay It With a Bet About Us

It was a long plane ride to Novosibirsk, Russia, and Natasha felt conflicted about the fact that Barnes said virtually nothing the whole way. He was deep in thought and she didn't know him well enough to be able to determine if leaving him to it was better than calling for his attention. Her indecisiveness kept her from breaking the silence until they'd reached the car that had been rented in her cover's name.

She hadn't slept much on the trip, but having something to do always made it easy to stay awake. It was late afternoon and they wouldn't get started until after dark, so they had some time to kill. If she had been on her own, she would have driven to the hotel and gone over relevant mission data until it was time to get changed. But some agents preferred to scope out locations before they became relevant.

"So, Barnes, what do you like to do before a mission?" she asked nonchalantly as she opened the door on the driver's side of the car.

He looked up at her a little sharply, clearly not expecting any conversation, then frowned while he considered. "I... usually didn't have a whole lot of options," he replied slowly.

"We could go check out the facility, we could get some dinner, we could head to the hotel to rest, or whatever." As she gave him some choices, she leaned comfortably forward on the roof of the car, keeping her tone casual.

Biting his lip, he stared at the ground in a way that made her think he wanted to pace but was too well-trained to do so. "Dinner might be nice," he offered tentatively, not making eye contact.

"True – I tend to forget to eat when I'm in the field, unless it's part of my cover. What kind of food do you want?" She smiled as she spoke, opening her door and adjusting her seat.

Barnes joined her in the vehicle, staring at his lap. "I don't know," he answered softly.

"HYDRA wasn't big on giving you a diverse meal plan, I take it?" Her tone was light and he almost smiled. "Yeah, I think I just ate gruel until one of my missions involved being undercover at a dinner party. Needless to say, that didn't quite go as they planned it. There was a place I always used to eat when I was in town – should we see if it's still around?"

"Sure."

Was it going to be this much effort to draw him out the whole time? She wouldn't have bothered, except... Except Steve wanted her to. He had a lot of faith in her, probably too much, but knowing he had high hopes for Barnes on this mission gave her a reason to try. And the fact that Barnes had apparently been looking forward to doing this with her... Well, to getting some experience away from Rogers, anyway. It would certainly be a step toward clearing him for more kinds of missions.

Her old favorite had been a small place and had closed in recent years. A new restaurant had taken its place, which she figured was good enough. She wasn't hungry, but was feeling too tired to continue driving around. Especially since Barnes didn't seem to care.

"How's your Russian?" she asked as they looked over the menus. He'd been frowning at it, prompting her question.

He licked his lips before responding. "Pretty mission-specific. I don't know what any of this is."

Seeing him mildly frustrated, she decided, was better than the usual silence or blankness. She smiled. "Anything I can get for you?"

With a dubious grimace, he closed the menu and laid it down at the end of the table. "I'm sure it doesn't matter."

Thinking back to when she'd left the Red Room, it occurred to her that being able to decide what to eat had been a particular pleasure. Barnes not sharing that feeling was a bit strange. Department X had used all its resources to break down its agents, to take away any sense of self. Getting that back was a necessary step to being okay. There were a lot more steps to being "better," whatever that meant, but deciding what food you liked, what clothes you wanted to wear, things like that seemed minor but were essential.