It's 8:03 at night, and Natasha is nowhere to be found.

Steve frowns, crossing his arms as he looks around the empty kitchen. She's never late for movie night. It's not as though they've had a lot of them, but for the few that they've had, she's always, always been early. What is going on?

Is she still with Loki? There's no way that's the case. She went up to check on him almost an hour ago. Unless the god is physically holding her prisoner in his room, there's no way that's where she is right now. There is no possible way she's spent almost an hour in his room.

God, he really hopes that's not where she is.

He sits down at the table, propping his head up on his hand. This sucks. He was really looking forward to this movie night. And he's sure it will still happen, and he's sure he'll still enjoy it – more for Natasha's presence than the movie itself – but still, right now, he's not enjoying himself.

It's not even so much that she's late that's bothering him. It's only been a few minutes. He can't hold that against her. It's the fact that he doesn't know why she's late – and the fact that the answer may very well be that she's still hanging out with Loki. He does not understand for the life of him what she sees in that guy, or why she's so friendly with him. They agreed to tolerate him for as long as he stays in Avengers Tower; they did not agree to befriend him and let him flirt with them at every possibility.

He gives it another minute or two before he decides to just get up and get the milk started for hot chocolate. If she is still planning to come – and he has no reason to suspect that she's not – then he might as well get the drinks ready so they don't have to waste more time. Although, he supposes it's not really a waste. Sitting around the kitchen with her while they wait for the milk to heat up sounds just as fun as, if not more than, watching Star Wars does.

He just likes to spend time with Natasha. It's that simple, really. He likes to spend time with his friend – and he likes to daydream about her someday becoming more than that. One day, he'll work up the courage to do something about that, but for now, he's just going to sit around and wish it would work itself out.

It's 8:05 when Natasha finally appears, slightly breathless as she runs into the room. The first words out of her mouth are, "I was not watching the clock at all."

Steve huffs a laugh, and his annoyance immediately dissipates at the sight of her. "I was starting to think you ditched me," he jokes.

"Like I would ever ditch movie night," she shoots back with a grin. "I'm on popcorn duty, right?"

"Yep," Steve says. "And the hot chocolate's almost ready."

"Shit, I better get on it, then."

So Natasha goes about microwaving them some popcorn, and Steve finishes up the hot chocolate. They each grab a mug and Natasha grabs the big bowl of popcorn, and then they're off to the TV room.

Steve suspects this is a question he won't want an answer to, but he asks it anyway – as conversationally as he can, though it is kind of an accusation deep down. "What've you been up to?"

Natasha shrugs. "Just hanging out."

"Oh, yeah?" He gives her an amused look. "Just hanging out?" Just hanging out where, is what he'd like to know – and also probably something he wouldn't like to know, if the answer is what he worries it may be.

"Yep," she says, and she flashes him a smile.

Steve shakes his head to himself. She's so cute. She doesn't even have to try. She's just that cute.

Natasha sets the movie up – because she understands DVDs much better than Steve does – and they sit down on the couch together. Once they're both situated, Natasha uses the remote to start it.

The title card plays, and in the midst of the swelling music, Steve focuses on reading the scrolling yellow text. It's an interesting decision, putting all of the set-up of these movies as a large block of text before the movie starts, but it works.

As the first real scene begins to play, Natasha pulls her feet up on the couch, and Steve readjusts their shared blanket to make sure she's all covered up.

They must be about ten minutes in when Steve remarks, "You know, I don't dislike these movies, and they're definitely better made than the movies from my time, but I don't really understand the appeal."

"They were pretty revolutionary for their time," Natasha tells him. "It created one of the biggest classes of geeks in the world." She shakes head. "Never mess with the Star Wars fans. They'll bite your head off."

Steve's face scrunches in distaste. "Really?"

"It's so bad," Natasha tells him. "There isn't much that scares me, but a big group of Star Wars fans? That would scare me."

Steve huffs a laugh. "And yet, you're showing me Star Wars."

"Well, yeah, everybody has to watch Star Wars at least once in their lives," she says as though it's obvious and he should just intrinsically know that somehow. "Most people manage to escape without becoming one of them."

"I hope I have the same luck, then," Steve says. He definitely doesn't see this as the kind of movie series one should dedicate their entire lives to, so he should be safe, unless something amazing happens within the last few movies they have left.

"You better," Natasha says teasingly. "I'm trusting you, Cap. Don't let me down."

After that, they turn their attention back to the movie, and Steve just has to hope that he didn't miss anything super important while he was chatting. He probably did, with his luck. At least he has Natasha here to explain things to him.

Another few minutes pass, and Natasha leans into him, resting her head on his chest. Steve glances down at her, but if she notices, she doesn't show it, her eyes still set firmly on the TV in front of them. Steve smiles softly.

He puts an arm around her shoulders, and she snuggles in closer. He decides then and there that it doesn't matter if this movie is a piece of art or a pile of steaming garbage. Either way, this is going to be the highlight of his week.