⧗⍟ Romanogers Scenes We All Need ⍟⧗

Rewrite the Tales- II

'Well, you know, the suit can take the weight, right?' Rhodey was proudly telling his story. 'So I take the tank, fly it right up to the General's palace, drop it at his feet, I'm like, "Boom! You looking for this?"

Tony and Thor look at him blankly.

'"Boom! Are you looking--" Why do I even talk to you guys? Everywhere else that story kills.' He huffed.

'That's the whole story?' Thor said blankly.

'Yeah,' he said warily. 'It's a War Machine story.'

'Well, it's very good then,' he laughed. 'It's impressive.'

'Quality save,' Rhodey said sarcastically.

~

'Sounds like a hell of a fight,' Sam said. 'Sorry I missed it.

'If I had known it was going to be a firefight I absolutely would have called you,' Steve said humbly.

'No, I'm not actually sorry,' Sam said truthfully. 'I'm just trying to sound tough. I'm very happy chasing cold leads on our missing persons case. Avenging is your world. Your world is crazy.'

'Be it ever so humble.' Steve said, with a trace of sadness.

'You find a place in Brooklyn yet?' Sam asked him.

'I don't think I can afford a place in Brooklyn,' he said sadly. 'But, hey, this place isn't too bad. Its got . . .' Steve's eyes travelled to the bar where Natasha was currently talking to Maria. 'A pretty great view.'

'Well, home is home, you know?' Sam said wisely. 'And stop acting like a creep. You'll scare her off.'

Steve stared daggers at him, and walked away.

Meanwhile, Rhodey is telling the same story he told Stark and Thor to a group of women at the party, and gets a much more entertaining response. 

Meanwhile, Steve and Thor shared an Asgardian mead, and an old guest also requested one, but it would turn out to be a mistake.

~

As the very drunk old man, repeating his mantra, 'Excelsior', was carried away by two other guests. Steve went over to Natasha, who was pouring herself a drink. She looked stunning, in Steve's opinion, which were always honest.  She was in a blue and white dress, and her red hair was curled. When she saw him approaching, she took out another glass and poured him a cranberry margarita. 

'How did a nice girl like you wind up working in a dump like this?' He asked her in his almost faded away Brooklyn accent.

'Fella done me wrong.' She replied with a smooth voice, giving him the glass.

'You got a lousy taste in men, kid.' Steve said, his eyes focused on her. 

'He's not so bad,' she said reproachfully. 'Well, he has a temper. Deep down he's all fluff. Fact is, he's not like anybody I've ever known. All my friends are fighters. And here comes this guy, spends his life avoiding the fight because he knows he'll win.'

'Sounds amazing,' he said, feeling a bit cheerful.

'He's also a huge dork,' she said impassively. Steve looked down, embarrassed. She noticed this. 'Hey, Chicks dig that.' He immediately looked up. 'So what do you think should I fight this, or run with it?'

'Run with it, right?' He stuttered. 'Or, did he . . . was he . . . ? What did he do that was so wrong to you?'

'Not a damn thing,' she said, looking down, blushing. 'But never say never.' She walked away, leaving Steve completely flustered.