Nat/Steve, Space (for alexandrine)
Steve is calm and collected through the launch procedure, through the rumbling take off that feels like an explosion under them, through the truly terrifying experience of shedding portions of the ship as they're no longer required, losing more and more of what feels like a protective shield as they hurtle off into space in a feat that had seemed entirely impossible in his youth. It isn't until the true craft is revealed underneath the mundane facade, sleek and fast with Tony's personal aesthetic dripping from every sharp angle of the design, and Natasha wraps her hands around the controls and sends them hurtling through the black with acceleration he can feel in the pit of his stomach that he lets himself really think about the fact that they're in space, grateful that Natasha's own excited laughter masks his sound of distress as she turns the ship in a tight corkscrew just because she can.
It's not until their rendezvous is in sight, almost as sleek as Tony's own design and gleaming blue and orange in the light of an alien planetary system's dwarf star, that she stops the stunt man flying and levels them out, giving Steve the chance to breathe as she opens up a communications channel, asking for a confirmation from the Milano that they're expected, that he eases up the white knuckle grip on the arms of his seat, and stares displeased at the dents he's left.