[ Bucky doesn't think of himself as a gentleman, but he doesn't protest. He knows she doesn't always find his self-deprecation charming, and he doesn't want to push it.
He also knows that she can handle herself in the red light district, probably better than he can. She was always better with people, with moving them— that was a part of the Black Widow training they never stuck on him.
After a few blocks of walking, he stops, and jerks a thumb. ]
This is the place.
[ It's plain, with an unmarked door and small windows safely above the street level, the kind of place you'd pass right by and not notice it was there. Later on there'd be a line out the door to make the entrance a bit more conspicuous, but now it was quiet and they could stroll right in. Except for the guard at the door, of course. ]
no subject
He also knows that she can handle herself in the red light district, probably better than he can. She was always better with people, with moving them— that was a part of the Black Widow training they never stuck on him.
After a few blocks of walking, he stops, and jerks a thumb. ]
This is the place.
[ It's plain, with an unmarked door and small windows safely above the street level, the kind of place you'd pass right by and not notice it was there. Later on there'd be a line out the door to make the entrance a bit more conspicuous, but now it was quiet and they could stroll right in. Except for the guard at the door, of course. ]