"Well, you did ask about my skills," he said, his smile widening, though he didn't explain exactly what skills he was referring to.
Vague suspicion blossomed fondly in her expression as she smiled back at him. "Are you going to cook for me, Col?" she asked. "Because I should really admit right now, I cannot cook, even if my life depended on it."
He chuckled at her admission. "It's probably a good thing one of us can, then. Do you mind? We can order out, if you prefer." he said, letting her choose. It might take longer to whip something up, but it would probably be well worth the time and effort.
"No, I don't mind," she assured him. "As long as you don't mind me watching. I know some people can't perform with an audience." This was offered up completely deadpan, her lips only twitching toward a smile as the pause after grew.
"Well, that depends on the circumstances," he replied back, though he couldn't help the smirk on his face. "I don't think Rachel Ray has to worry about me replacing her anytime soon," he said. "And I'm not looking to get into porn, so ..." he added, that smirk widening.
She snorted with laughter. "Oh, so that's why you weren't keen on giving the security guys an eyeful, got it," she teased cheerfully. "I'll remember to make sure you're not under surveillance before you get started in future."
"I hope not!" he said with a chuckle, though it had been at least a few weeks since he'd combed his apartment for cameras or bugs. "And just how do you plan on doing that, Agent Romanoff?" he asked with another smirk.
"Oh, I don't know ... wear a blindfold?" she suggested with a low laugh, reaching up to shake her hair away from her neck. "Where are we going, anyway? This is the upmarket district."
He chuckled. "That sounds a little kinky," he said, darting a glance at her in time to see her sweep her hair away from her neck. That simple movement was making his body react in uncomfortable ways, but he said nothing of it as he looked back at the road, the traffic finally starting to move again. "Would it bother you to know I live there?"
"Kinky can be fun, with the right person," she countered with a shrug, her smile easily audible. She looked up at the tall buildings around them. "Why should it bother me? I've lived in military and intelligence institutions all my life. The simple fact that you have more than one room and shared bathroom is pretty impressive to me."
"Oh, there's more than one room," he assured her with a chuckle. Though his apartment wasn't a large one, it was impressive in its own way. After all, what was the point of having money if one couldn't enjoy it? "It's in walking distance of Central Park, so there's a little green space."
"Mmm, greenery that doesn't have sweaty soldiers in it," she mused wistfully. "I'm starting to feel jealous. Keep talking, I might end up having to rip your clothes off to keep a lid on the envy."
He laughed. "No, just people walking their dogs." He turned his glance to her again, smirking at her teasing. "Just don't do it while I'm driving, or we might get thrown in jail." He turned back to watch the road, a nod of his head toward a particular building, not as tall as some of the others around it but far more elegant looking. "See that one there? The smaller one with all the windows? That's home."
She tilted her head, leaning forward a little to look up at the building. "It's so elegant," she commented. "I guess I'm going to have to try to look like I fit in a little." She chuckled. "Just as well my entire civilian wardrobe involves heels one way or the other."
He chuckled again. "You don't have to impress anyone, Nat," he assured her. Even though he was dressed smartly enough in slacks and a shirt, he wasn't afraid to be seen in more casual dress. There was one more surprise waiting for her at his apartment, but it wouldn't be a surprise if he told her what it was.
"What if I want to impress you?" she countered a little impishly. "I could be wearing anything under this dress, after all."
"I think you've already made quite an impression on me," he admitted quietly, as he pulled up in front of the building. Apparently, there was no need to find the parking garage as a valet was waiting at the door to do that for him. "Well, here we are," he told her, looking over at her again and feeling just a little bit nervous. It had been a long time since he'd let anyone into his life, and he knew he was taking a big risk.
"I suppose we should get out, then," Nat suggested, but before that, she leaned over to brush a kiss to his nervous mouth. "I promise not to feel you up in the elevator, does that help?"
"I'm not sure," he admitted, smiling into her kiss. "Maybe you should kiss me again," he told her, leaning closer for another kiss. While her kisses might not actually help him relax, he was sure to enjoy them.
She laughed into his answering kiss, nuzzling close for a long moment before pulling away. "Maybe we should let the nervous young man hovering on the sidewalk do his job before we go any further with this."
"We probably should, if you want to eat dinner sometime tonight," he teased back. "Wait there," he told her, opening the door and climbing out of the car to have a brief word with the valet before going around to get her door. He offered her a hand to help her out, like a proper gentleman, the valet waiting patiently nearby.
Left in the car, however briefly, Nat smiled to herself, lifting her bag onto her lap as Colin opened her door to help her out. Her hand in his, she rose from her seat, tucking the strap onto her shoulder. "Why, thank you."
It wasn't often he had the opportunity to play the gentleman, but it was a part he apparently played well. "You're very welcome," he said as he led her away from the car, handing off the keys to the valet, along with a tip. "There's, um, someone I'd like you to meet," he said, a little nervously again, but before she could say a word, the doorman was stepping up to get the door.
"Good evening, Mr. Prescott. Ma'am," he said with a polite nod to them both. "Shall I arrange to have Coco brought to your rooms?" he asked further, not bothering to explain that he wasn't talking about the hot chocolate beverage.
A little bemused by Colin's sudden nerves followed by the doorman's offer, Nat caught herself glancing toward the afternoon sky before she looked back at the pair of them. "I'm guessing this isn't the drink you're talking about here?"
"No. I'm afraid there's another woman in my life," Colin admitted with the tiniest hint of a smirk that indicated he was probably teasing. "I'm hope you're not jealous."
"A woman called Coco," Nat repeated in a slow drawl. Her lips curved in a smile as she went on. "Tell me, is she elderly, French, and has obvious fascist leanings?"
"I'm afraid not. She's not a fashion designer either." In fact, his Coco had absolutely nothing in common with the French fashion designer, except maybe for the fact that she had nice hair, but even that was a stretch.
"You needn't worry, ma'am. Coco is a ..." the doorman started, before quickly closing his mouth at the look of warning on Colin's face.
Glancing between Colin and the doorman, Nat upped the ante, just to see the look on their faces. "His favorite prostitute, perhaps?"
"No!" both men exclaimed in unison.
Colin took a breath. "Sam, can you have Coco brought to my apartment, so I can introduce her to the lady, please?"
"Of course, Mr. Prescott. I'm sure she'll be happy to see you," the doorman replied with a grin, as he pulled open the door so that they could step into the foyer.