Author's Note: Just something that came to mind while I was driving in the car with a friend this morning. I shall not state who was our good Captain and who was Natasha. :P

Driving with Assassins:

Steve had long ago gotten used to Natasha's driving skills. High speeds and death defying maneuvers; he didn't even get nauseous anymore and that was something he considered to be a real feat. The fact that Natasha had called him to pick her up because her car was currently out of commission? That was a more impressive feat than not projectile vomiting when she drove. According to her, he drove like an old man, so he imagined he was probably her last call for a pick up.

He pulled up in front of her apartment building, or at least he assumed that's what it was, though he wouldn't put it past her to walk multiple blocks from her own and giving him that address instead of her real one. It was also best not to ask her given that she would probably lie anyways.

Steve watched as Natasha stepped up to the passenger side window that he rolled down and she bent over as she tugged her sunglasses down to the brim of her nose to peer inside. "You actually own a vehicle with four wheels and not just two?" came her bemused question.

"Yes..." he answered with a chuckle, "are you getting in or not?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed out as she pulled the door open and climbed inside the truck with ease. "I prefer my car," came her next comment as she kicked her leather boots up on the dash.

Steve rolled his eyes and swatted her feet, "Put your feet down." He could practically feel her smirking at him but he didn't bother to look as he heard her feet shift back down to the floor. It was painfully silent as he waited for an opening in traffic for nearly five minutes before he managed to make an escape, an escape that he found daring and that Natasha clearly found pathetic.

Her words proved it as she shifted her sunglasses to the top of her head, "You looked like you were about to go into heart failure there, Rogers. I counted at least two dozen opportunities for you to pull out before that."

"I'll bet you did," Steve muttered with a roll of his eyes. The redheaded spy had the tendency to pull into traffic on instinct rather than actually checking to see if anyone was coming. It didn't matter if the car was ten seconds from passing her, she would squeal out of where she was parked and take off like a bullet. Natasha had absolutely no fear when it came to nearly everything she did and driving was certainly no exception.

Or so he thought.

He pulled up to a stop sign, watched a large flatbed truck drive passed them with all the trees tied down to the back of it, then started to pull out.

"Don't you dare," came Natasha's warning. He glanced down as she yanked up the emergency brake lever on him and gave him a warning look.

"What was that for?"

She quirked a single eyebrow up at him as she nodded her head to the flatbed, "I've watched Final Destination, I know how that ends." He had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. "Take a different road to the base."

"Are you serious right now?" he questioned with uncertainty. With Natasha it was near impossible to tell the difference between a joke and a serious matter at times.

"Watch the movie and you'll understand, now take a different way or I'm getting out," she tacked on for good measure as she pulled the sunglasses back down over her eyes.

He gave in, shook his head, and chose a different route to the base. Just when he thought he knew everything when it came to Natasha and her driving, he got dumbfounded by this, and he shook his head slightly.

Steve did watch the movie a few days later.

And the next time Natasha was in his passengers seat she clearly knew it. They were at another stop sign a few months later, another flatbed piled with trees went by them, and he visibly paled before turning in the opposite direction. The redhead beside him gave a rather undignified and unladylike snort of laughter in an instant and she looked over at him with an innocent look beneath her eyelashes, "Wow, Rogers. Stark said that would work on you but I didn't actually believe him..."

"Just so you know, Romanoff, you and Stark are both terrible people," Steve muttered out when he realized Natasha didn't actually care about the flatbed truck filled with trees.

She just snickered and kicked her feet up on his dash again, "Thank you."

Just a random little thought that I couldn't resist.