Sample scene flavor one for marvel_universe

[cold_shoulder]

Since they had given him the assignment to train operatives, the Winter Soldier had seen quite a few go through the Red Room - the training for which happened far from only in any particular room. Most of them were fast and precise and eager to do things right. Some of them were smart and could be taught to be quick-thinking.

But nobody had been using their mind to the objective at hand until she had appeared, gun in one hand and grenade in the other. Brave, determined, beautiful. Not allowing herself to be distracted from the tasks she had, and at the same time with a hint of a sense of humor which meshed inexplicably well with him, somewhere below the level of his usual thought processes.

He's been watching, yes.

Natalia Romanova.

He'd been watching others try to emulate her, too, and had been greatly amused at girls imitating her motions without fully realizing the ideas behind them. And then feel disappointed at failing.

But mostly, he'd been watching her. He wasn't allowed access to much information about her; that was classified and not a part of his assignment. So he'd been piecing things together. Little things betrayed by her motions, but her reactions to knowledge betrayed by others.

And he'd been watching the beauty of her. The dancer training was clear in everything from her flexibility to the graceful efficiency of her motions. It stirred something in him. Something warm and unknown and strange, separate from the definite physical desire. The latter he could define and control. The former... it confused him. And drew him closer to her, until the evening when, all exercises complete, he knocked on her window.

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[natalia_romanova]

There was a war inside him, she could feel it.

He took her hands and she shivered, not at the cold of the metal but at the thrill of the contact. She moved closer but it was that moment that he tensed. His posture changed, his breathing, the set of his jaw, the warm brown turning over cold and harsh, but it melted back again.

There was turmoil in him as he fought to give her what she asked, and in the end he did, strange as it was. James was no Russian name. Why would a Russian not have a proper family name? Why would he be something so obviously other cultural. She had a quick mind and those pieces were already falling into place. Perhaps this proud child of Mother Russian had no always been that.

"James." She played the name over her lips. It sounded strong even for the odd flavor of it. Strong and somehow poetic. Not edged like so many Russian names were, it had a gentle strength to it, she decided she quite liked it. "It suits you." And with that, she accepted it, accepted him, no questions asked.

[cold_shoulder]

While he was bubbling with questions. Somewhere. Why this name, who gave him this name, where did it come from and why now, was it in his files somewhere, and if not, why? Why didn't anyone ever call him that name?

But the pressure was gone. The necessity blistering his mind into remembrance was gone. Lanced? Relieved? Temporarily appeased? There was no context. Just the name, that one name.

The tension slowly left his body, only remained as tiny flames in his eyes that didn't move from her face as he nodded slightly. "Thank you." For the acceptance. For pushing him there, although she probably hadn't meant it. Not that way. Whatever the reason for his name not being used, it was probably good enough for their superiors, and she wouldn't have requested if it would go against orders.

But she had. And it was somehow easier with that.

He lowered his forehead, raising their hands until her knuckles touched his skin lightly, then eased them down again. "I should go."

Little of the commanding, certain trainer whose strikes came only this short of breaking bones (if they did come short), little of the chill, composed Winter Soldier in his voice. It was mere fact that he was too drained to oppose.

[natalia_romanova]

What happened inside his mind was lost to her, all she knew was that he seemed quieted after he'd given his name. His relaxation pleased her for reasons she was beginning to suspect had little to do with their mutual respect as warriors.

She nodded to his thanks, letting him know it wasn't required, he would always have her acceptance. He might always have to deal with her growing curiosity though, and the questions that came with it.

Her reaction to his touch was sudden and intense. Her cheeks flushed, breathing caught, her hand trembled just a bit in his. It was the first truly personal touch between them and she was utterly captivated. He let her go far too soon for her liking, but he was on a tight schedule.

"Yes." Of course, he had to go, it was his mission. She never would have begrudged him this before, but now she seemed to regret the need for him to leave. "For now."

But he'd be back, he promised. She stepped back and allowed him to make his exit, and for the first time she watched him depart from her window, she perched on the sill and watched until he vanished from sight. "James." His name was whispered to the night, it would not be used again until he returned.

[cold_shoulder]

And he returns.