Little Events

Surprises and Training

Steve, having been ruthlessly elected by the others, was in the kitchen, fixing some sort of lunch for the team, as some old gameshow was playing on TV. Of course, nobody was really watching it but they all pretended to be engrossed when he suggested a meal, forcing him to get up and do it himself. And so, he stood, meticulously cutting up some fruit onto a row of plates that already held sandwiches and pudding cups, watching the rest of the team on their phones out of the corner of his eye.

Smiling as Natasha took a sneaky picture of Clint, Steve shook his head fondly when the latter pounced suddenly onto the former. The photo wasn't as subtle as Nat thought, and she was receiving the tickle punishment for it. "delete it!" Clint begged, pinning Nat's arms to her sides so she couldn't fight back. She just laughed and shook her head. "Never!" She giggled, defiant. Still slicing the fruit, Steve continued watching, confident in his cutting ability without lopping off his hand. Tony was typing furiously on his phone, eyebrows furrowed, before he sat back, as everyone's phone chimed in unison. Placing down the knife a second, Steve tugged his phone out of his pocket, seeing that Tony had sent him an embarrassing picture of a younger Nat. Unable to hold in his laughter, Steve nearly choked in his valiant attempt to suppress it. Tash, having seen the picture on Clint's phone, blushed a bright shade of red, before pouting. "No fair, Stark. But fine! I'll delete it!" She huffed, a little ruffled. Stark just smirked. "No need, I already did it." He lay back in his armchair, arms spread in a 'what you gonna do about it?' Gesture.

Since Clint had moved back to his spot on the couch, Tash was free and she made a move as if to attack Tony, which Steve quickly stopped with a call of 'foods done!' Which always seemed to grab everyone's attention. Three hungry heads swivelled towards him whilst the fourth head stayed stubbornly down, large headphones covering its ears. Steve sighed, and in a gentle tone asked "Can someone please tell Bruce?" As Tony reached over the gap between their armchairs and lay a calm hand on Bruce's forearm, shaking him a little. The other man, startled, jumped before sliding his headphones down and smiling sheepishly. "What did I miss?" He asked softly, placing the phone and earphones on the coffee table before pulling his sweater sleeves back down his arms over his hands. Steve smiled, holding up a plate. "Not much. Lunch is ready, but that's it." He explained, handing the plate to Clint, who was waiting impatiently by the corner of the counter.

Blindly reaching for the next plate, to hand to Tash, Steve jumped as she suddenly grabbed his wrist. "Woah, careful there, малыш! You could have really hurt yourself there, hun." She said gently, as Steve noticed his hands proximity to the sharp blade he had left on the counter. Smiling tightly at her, Steve shook Tash's hand free and handed her the plate, before pointing Tony and Bruce to the two remaining plates and leaning against the opposite counter. Something about the warm, caring touch on his skin, and the way Natasha had acted instinctively to protect him,even though his increased healing factor would have had him a-okay again in less than five minutes had sent a strange feeling coursing through his body. It wasn't necessarily a bad feeling, just a strange feeling of wrongness, like he was a teeming mass of moving matter stuck inside of a body, and the body was wrong. Too big almost, like he was rattling around inside of himself.

Realising he had been staring blankly into space, Steve took a deep breath and shook his head to rid himself of the feeling, looking straight into the concerned face of Natasha, who was reaching for his wrist again. He just stood, and let her, even though by rights, and all the training he had been given, he shouldn't have let her get so close. But instead, he stood by, as her delicate, warm hand closed around his wrist for a second time, sending a wave of warm, delicious happy feeling through him. She smiled weakly, looking up into his face. "Are you alright, Steve? You've been staring at the fridge like you wanna blow it up for five or six minutes." She asked softly, using her free hand to rub his cheek. He forced a smile into his face as a feeling of vulnerability started weighing on his heart. "Yes, I'm fine, thanks Tash. Just in my own head." He claimed, not necessarily lying. "In fact, I think I'm going to go take a nap." He said vaguely, pushing off of the counter and heading down the corridor to the elevator.