i am in so much approve over this outfit and accessorizing

Romanogers challenge - "deleted" CATWS scene prompt

So this is my very late fill for Week 1 of the Romanogers challenge. I chose the writing prompt “‘deleted’ scene from catws” and wrote about Steve and Natasha procuring their hipster stylings.

“We don’t have time for this.” Steve’s jaw tensed and his disapproving glare grew more glareful and more disapproving.

Natasha rolled her eyes at the all-too-familiar look, and with impressive but unsurprising speed, she reached over and unzipped Steve’s blue hoodie, separating the two halves at the bottom with an exaggerated and handsy tug that rattled Steve’s waist (and below the waist) area in a discomfiting manner. He jumped back.

“You were wearing that at the hospital,” she reminded him. “This is S.H.I.E.L.D. we’re talking about. They’ll be looking for you in it.” She rifled through the department store rack and then pulled out a lime-green Hawaiian button-up tee with a whimsical flamingo pattern. “Incognito,” she whispered, shoving the hanger into his hand.

Steve sighed – disapprovingly and glarefully – and hung the shirt back on to the rack. He zipped his sweatshirt up once more as he followed the whirling super spy, who picked up items here and there in the blink of an eye, clearly accustomed to shopping sprees like this. Without looking she stuck her arm behind her and handed him a brown jacket and a baseball cap.

“Is this really necessary? I can see the computer store from here. Let’s just get on with it.”

Natasha swirled around, walking backwards towards the jewelry counter as she spoke to him. “With all due respect, Rogers, I’m not going to take stealth advice from the star spangled man. On a normal day you can be seen from space. While I, on the other hand, could walk right past the entire tac team without being recognized, given enough time to prepare.”

He trailed for a moment, trying on the jacket – it fit perfectly, which unnerved him - and caught up to her as she spun what he thought was one of the jewelry holders, until he saw what she had pulled off of it: a thick pair of horn-rimmed frames.

“Incognito,” she whispered again before he could get out his words of protest. He begrudgingly accepted the glasses and put them on.

Natasha made of show of pretending to restrain her giggling. Steve twisted his neck to look in the mirror and puckered his lips in appreciative surprise. “I think I’m pulling them off.”

Stretching her hand up to adjust the straightness of his hat, and then fixing the collar of the jacket, she uttered something mischievously ambiguous and then flew off towards the shoes.

“I like those,” Steve said, pointing at a high-tech pair of white sneakers on the wall.

Natasha sighed and shook her head. “You really don’t get the ensemble, do you?”

“No one’s going to be looking at my feet.” But he didn’t finish his thought – he caught sight of the women’s section just around the corner. “You picked for me, now I pick for you,” he said, for once running – almost skipping, to be perfectly honest – ahead to the next section.

He lifted a pair of jeans off the rack and held them up for inspection. “I thought this was the women’s section. These are for a child.”

“They’re called skinny jeans,” Natasha informed him. “They show off your ass,” she added, winking. He quickly hung them back up, but she reached behind him and pulled a slightly larger-sized pair off their rack. “No, they’re perfect. We’ll match. Like partners,” she finished.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Across the aisle he spotted a striped hooded jacket with pom-poms and smiled. He couldn’t imagine Natasha ever wearing something like that. “Incognito,” he whispered to her as he handed one of the jackets over. But he was disappointed to find that she approved entirely. “This is so cute,” she muttered quickly, throwing it over arm with the jeans.

“Wha-but…” Steve complained, crestfallen.

But Natasha had already moved on. She picked up a few more accessorizing items and then found a dressing room.

He had temporarily forgotten in the fun – yes, it had been fun, a lot of fun - but his sense of urgency returned while he waited for her. “We’ve got to figure out what’s on this drive before Pierce catches up to us. They could have tracked us here already.”

“Well I could come out right now but I’m naked,” Natasha replied, poking her head over the top of the changing-room door for effect. “We’d get to the Apple store faster but I feel like that kind of attention we’d attract might ultimately be detrimental to the mission.”

Steve tilted his head in judgment.

“Put on your shoes!” she reminded him, dropping back out of sight.

“Oh yeah.” He sat down and slipped on the blue and grey tennis shoes she had chosen for him.

“You’re thinking about the fact that I’m naked in here, aren’t you?” she teased.

“I’m just thinking that I won’t be able to do much in these shoes. These soles are so thin.”

“You’re blushing, aren’t you? You are,” she persisted.

Steve shifted uncomfortably and a few retorts died on his lips.

The door sprang open and Natasha popped out. She showed her profile to him, sliding a hand a little too slowly up her thigh to indicate the pants. “Well? Am I pulling them off?” He wasn’t sure if she was teasing – her expression gave nothing away.

Steve stared for a second, then went over and grabbed her arm and began tugging her towards the exit. She resisted and indicated the mirror. He regarded their reflection, side by side. “Are you sure we don’t stand out in these…outfits?” he asked.

“They’re in style.”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows doubtfully. “Are you sure?”

“We look like any given mall-going couple.”


Natasha turned and began walking towards the egress into the interior of the mall. She sensed he wasn’t following, and paused.  “What?” she asked, frowning. “Do you see someone?”

He gestured over at the cashier’s counter. “We haven’t paid.”

Natasha gaped. “What happened to the man who was in such a hurry that he wasn’t even going to let me put a shirt on? The man who wanted me hacking secret government data in public in only my brassiere.”

“That’s not accurate,” he asserted, pointing his finger at her.

Natasha began moving forward again, but she felt a hand on her arm. “Steve? Seriously? If they knew who you were they would let us have our pick of the store. Let’s just go.”

But Steve was headed over to the check out.

Natasha could only smile at him.