[ Of course it was her idea to have this party. Like she'd do anything less than let Bucky and Steve forget their technical ages; she'd even offered to take care of the cake, although for her that really meant nothing more than getting the candles for it and hoarding them so neither the birthday boy or his best friend could remove about 70 of them. Screw that. They're not taking this away from her.
She's a little ways away from the festivities in the rink, setting up on a table. There's a couple pitchers of beer and soda with red Solo cups nearby, but Natasha's unconcerned with them, too busy perfecting the Funfetti masterpiece at her fingertips.
98, 99...
100. She sticks the last candle on the cake and steps back, folding her arms, satisfied. ] Perfect.
NATASHA ROMANOFF | OTA
She's a little ways away from the festivities in the rink, setting up on a table. There's a couple pitchers of beer and soda with red Solo cups nearby, but Natasha's unconcerned with them, too busy perfecting the Funfetti masterpiece at her fingertips.
98, 99...
100. She sticks the last candle on the cake and steps back, folding her arms, satisfied. ] Perfect.