I write mainly MCU Bucky Barnes because of his great character arc and Sebastian Stan’s representation of that character. Other MCU characters may appear in my works, occasionally in equal roles. If you are looking for very dark or evil Bucky themes you won’t find them in my works. There will be some Bucky AU fics.
OFCs in my stories are often named with physical descriptions. It doesn’t mean I try to exclude anyone. It just means I’m old school and learned to write in 1st person or 3rd person POV with named and described characters. I do not use Y/N.
Most stories are rated PG 13. If you are a minor, please DO NOT INTERACT with stories marked as 18+. There is a reason they are marked. Please respect that. If you follow me and do not have an age indicated in your bio, you will be blocked.
Sorry, no story requests or taglists. Please follow me and activate notifications for updates. Re-blogging and comments are most welcome. Haters will be blocked. If you find errors please let me know as I do not use a beta reader.
Wattpad is my main platform, followed by AO3 and some things on FanFiction.net; username for all of them is sjsmith56. All MCU characters are the property of Marvel / Disney, as are portions of the movie plots reused in my stories. I claim ownership of all original characters and plot lines. Please do not copy and paste or translate my works for posting in other platforms.
One Shots
Short Fiction / Multi-part Fiction
Novels / Collections
‘Tis the Season compilation of winter/ Christmas themed Bucky Barnes fics
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Warnings: Mild Violence. Maybe I'll add more in the future.
Summary: A knight from another century crashes -literally- into a florist’s life and turns her world upside down.
Word Count: 4.3k
Previous Chapter
She blinked.
Of all the things she had expected him to say -‘give me all you have’, or even ‘where am I?’- that had not been on the list.
Her brain, which had been screaming danger at full volume, stuttered to a confused halt.
"...Excuse me?"
His eyes searched her face, flicking from her eyes to her mouth, then back up. The frown deepened.
"The ring," he said, and there was something in his voice now that hadn't been there before, something that sounded almost like fear, buried under the controlled features. "You put the ring in the chest, did something. You brought me here."
She stared at him.
Right. So. Not a drunk actor. That left her with someone eloped from an asylum, or a veteran with some kind of shock.
She forced herself to take a breath, to level her voice to a stay, calm tone, the way you'd talk to a spooked horse or a confused child.
"Listen, sir," she said. "I don't know what you've got going on in that head of yours, but I am not a witch, I don't know anything about any ring, and I would greatly appreciate it if you got off me. Now."
----
He studied her properly now.
Really examined, now that the immediate threat of the -whatever that thing was she'd tried to brain him with- had been neutralized.
The clothing was wrong. Scandalously wrong. She wore a blouse with short sleeves that ended above the elbow, leaving her forearms bare. And the neckline! God. The neckline was cut in a V that plunged toward her chest with no chemise beneath, no modest linen to preserve decency, with buttons made of something that caught the light, like shell or bone, beaconing the eyes toward the tantalizing curve of her-
His eyes snapped back to her face, jaw tight.
No respectable woman dressed like this. No lady certainly, but even common women knew better than to display themselves so openly unless they were advertising a service. Also, the carmine on her lips. He had never seen such a brazen display.
So. A whore, then? Or a service in whatever establishment he'd been dragged to after being drugged and robbed? The building smelled strange. Earth and growing things, yes, but also that underlying wrongness he couldn't place. And the light overhead wasn't firelight, wasn't candlelight, but something steady that didn't flicker, didn't smoke, just existed like it had been summoned there and told to stay.
Magic. Had to be.
His head was pounding. His ribs ached with every breath. And this woman was staring up at him like he was the confusing element in this situation.
"If not a witch," he said, keeping his voice level with effort, "then what are you, wench?"
Her eyes went wide.
Then they narrowed, and something in her expression shifted from fear into outrage so quickly he almost missed the transition.
"Wench?" she repeated, her voice climbing half an octave. "Did you just call me a wench?"
He frowned. "You object to the term?"
"Get off me, you brute!"
She shoved at his chest with her free hand. Not hard enough to move him, but hard enough to make her intention clear. The outrage was burning off the fear now, replacing it with something that looked a lot like indignation.
He didn't move. Didn't understand her sudden fury.
"I asked you a simple question-"
"A simple-" She made a sound that was half-laugh, half-disbelief. "You pinned me to the floor, accused me of being a witch, called me a wench, and-"
"You tried to strike me-"
"Because you're a stranger in my stockroom!"
"after summoning me here with dark magic-"
"I didn't summon anybody!"
They were talking over each other now, voices rising, and he could feel his own temper fraying. He was tired. His whole body hurt. He'd woken up in a hovel filled with plants and dirt, and that gods-damned light hanging from the ceiling like something out of a fever dream.
Wasn’t a candle, nor a lantern, just a spark that had no business existing without flame inside an unbelievably thin glass.
And now this woman, this… temptress with her bare arms and her plunging neckline and luring lips, was acting as though he was the unreasonable one.
As though she hadn't put that cursed ring in the tournament chest.
As though she hadn't brought him here, wherever here was.
He leaned in slightly, dropping his voice to something harder, more controlled.
"Listen to me very carefully," he said. "I don't know what game you're playing, but I woke up in this place with your plants scattered around me and that-" he jerked his head toward the overhead bulb without taking his eyes off her, "thing burning without oil or wick. The ring on my hand is still warm from whatever spell you cast. So you can tell me what you want from me, and where I am, and we can handle this civilly-"
His grip on her wrist tightened slightly.
"-or you can keep pretending you don't know what I'm talking about, and I'll get the information another way."
She stared up at him, breathing hard. For a moment, he thought she might bite at him, she looked angry enough for it.
Instead, with a kind of forced, brittle calm:
"You are insane."
He blinked.
"I'm- what?"
“In-sane.” She pronounced it carefully, as though he might not know the word. “Crazy. Not right in the head. You need a doctor.”
Not right in the head.
The words landed somewhere specific, which was the problem.
There had been men along the country who said it without ever saying it outright, in the way conversations faltered when he stepped into a room, in the way former companions clapped him on the shoulder a shade too carefully, as if he were something that might splinter or lash out depending on the day.
Barnes came back wrong, was the version that traveled fastest, passed between cups of ale and lowered voices in corners they assumed he wouldn't overhear. Too quiet. Too watchful. Sleeps alone, drinks alone, doesn't speak of the time he was missing.
Not right in the head.
As though he hadn’t entertained the possibility himself.
In the particular hours between midnight and dawn, when sleep refused him and the walls of whatever rented room he happened to be in seemed to inch steadily closer, he had considered it more than once.
And now here he was.
Sir James Buchanan Barnes.
Pinning a strange woman to the floor of a room full of crushed plants, in a place he didn’t recognize, beneath a light hanging from the ceiling like a captured star, after being brought here by a ring he had put on for no better reason than to see if it fit.
Not right in the head.
Maybe he was.
The breath left him before he could stop it. Short, sharp, entirely without humor, and yet somehow adjacent to it. The nearest thing to a laugh he’d produced in longer than he cared to reckon, wrung out of him by the worst possible circumstances imaginable, which felt fitting enough to almost be funny.
Then he looked back at her, and his expression settled into something harder, flatter. Guarded.
The joke, such as it was, was over.
“Where is this place,” he said.
Not a question.
She opened her mouth. Closed it. Then tried again.
"You're in my stockroom," she said carefully. "The Sweet Briar. It's a flower shop on Camden Street."
"What city."
"New Wintermouth."
He stared at her.
New.
"What county."
"Hancock."
The name meant nothing. He watched her read that in his face.
"Maine," she added, as if that clarified anything.
It didn't. That meant nothing either, and somehow that was worse than if she'd said a name he could place and dispute.
"New Wintermouth," he repeated, very quietly.
She nodded.
He looked at the wall, at nothing, at the impossible reality that someone had taken the name of Lord Morrow's seat -the city he'd ridden into a hundred times through the eastern gate, where he knew which taverns watered their ale and which armorers charged fair prices- and transplanted it somewhere else entirely.
Hancock.
Maine.
The place was wrong.
Everything was wrong.
He looked past her, toward the strange window set high in the wall. Pale grey light filtered through, early morning by the look of it, and beyond the clear glass…
He couldn't see much from this angle. A wall, maybe. Brickwork. Something metal, dark and angular, running up the outside of the building like a ladder but too narrow, too precise. Too uniform.
"Hancock County," he said again, quieter this time.
She nodded, still pinned beneath him, still watching him with those wide eyes that were starting to look less afraid or mad and more worried, which was somehow more unsettling.
He stood slowly.
She was already moving before he'd fully straightened, scrambling to her feet and putting the width of the stockroom between them. Her back hit the shelving on the far wall with a soft thud, and she stayed there, breathing hard, watching him.
From standing, the room rearranged itself into something even stranger.
Every surface was occupied with objects that made no sense. He turned his head slowly, cataloguing against his will, his mind trying and failing to organize the wrongness into categories he understood.
The black device mounted on the wall, the thing with the coiled cord she'd been holding before she'd tried to brain him with the trowel. It hung there like some kind of sleek, modern artifact, its purpose utterly opaque.
Beside it, a small table.
And on that table: a cup, and some little storage boxes, made from metal.
He stared at it.
Ceramic, pale pink, a color so uniform and so perfect it could not have come from any potter's wheel he'd ever seen. Too smooth. Too flawless. Not a single variation in the glaze, not a fingerprint or settling mark or any of the small human inconsistencies that came from an object being made by hand.
It looked as though it had been conjured into existence fully formed, which -given present circumstances- he could not entirely rule out.
His attention drifted back to her, because she was the only thing in this room that made any sense, except she didn't.
She didn't make sense at all.
The short sleeves. The scandalous neckline. The hair, uncovered and unpinned like no modest woman would wear it.
And her mouth. A deep red like crushed berries or wine, and he had never seen a woman paint her mouth like that outside an itinerant play.
But she'd said she sold flowers.
Then his gaze dropped lower, following the line of her blouse, and that was when he saw them.
Her legs.
He hadn't noticed from the floor. He'd been too focused on neutralizing the threat, on controlling the situation, on trying to make sense of where he was and how he'd gotten there.
But now, standing, with the full measure of her visible from across the room, it was impossible not to notice her skirts ended below the knee.
Not down the ankle, where they belonged.
Below the knee.
The hemline sat several inches beneath that joint, casual and deliberate, as though this were perfectly normal. As though she had simply decided that the entire lower half of her legs were public information and dressed accordingly.
The shoes buckled neatly at the ankle with thin straps, propped up on heels that were barely wider than his thumb.
Heat crawled up the back of his neck.
He averted his eyes. Glanced back, because he was trying to assess the situation, and that required looking at all of it, required understanding what kind of place allowed -expected- women to dress like this.
But God's wounds, her legs.
He jerked his gaze back to the room, sensing the flush spread from his neck to his cheeks, feeling like an untried boy who'd never seen a woman's ankle and was now being confronted with several square feet of information he had no idea what to do with.
Focus.
There were more objects. Incomprehensible things demanding his attention.
A flat rectangular object on the worktable, smooth and dark. A row of metal implements along the wall, too identical to each other, like they'd been cast from the same mold a dozen times over.
And then, on the wall beside the door, what it seemed to be a calendar. It had Arabic numerals, instead of Roman, but the month across the top was in clean, uniform letters.
Still, he didn't recognize the paper; it was too white, too perfectly flat, without the texture of vellum or the slight yellowing of parchment. Or the image above: flowers rendered in such flawless, vivid detail that they looked real. Not painted or illustrated with some improved technique. Something else entirely. Something that made a cold shiver run down his spine.
He took a step toward it and looked at the numbers. The month. The year in the corner, small and plain.
1955.
He stared at it for a long moment.
Then he heard himself say, from a very great distance:
"What year is this."
A pause from behind him.
"1955," she said. Carefully. The voice of someone delivering bad news to a person they weren't sure could handle it, which under other circumstances might have offended him.
His stomach dropped.
He turned away from the calendar, one hand reaching blindly for the shelving unit beside him, gripping the edge hard enough that the wood bit into his palm.
The room tilted.
He bent forward, bracing himself, trying to breathe through the sudden lurch of his body trying to reject this information the only way it knew how.
Nothing came up. He hadn't eaten since before the tournament, which was perhaps the only mercy available, so his body produced only a long, miserable contraction that did absolutely nothing except inform his bruised ribs -in exhaustive detail- exactly how much they resented this recent turn of events.
He straightened slowly and breathed through his nose.
Across the room, she was watching him with her arms crossed over her chest -covering that scandalous neckline, finally- still concerned.
"Are you-"
"Fine," he said.
His voice came out steady. He was distantly proud of that.
She pressed her lips together, clearly unconvinced. The red paint held, he noticed with the detached part of his brain that was still cataloguing details. Whatever she'd used, it didn't smear or fade. Just stayed there, perfect and crimson, even when she pressed her mouth into a skeptical line.
Focus.
"1955," he said aloud, because saying it a second time didn't make it better, didn't make it more believable, but at least made it real. A thing that had been spoken and could not be unspoken. "That is the year."
"That's the year," she confirmed quietly.
She was still watching him like he might collapse. Or bolt. Or do something else unpredictable and damaging.
Fair enough. He felt like he might do all three.
----
She watched him stare at the wall.
The anger had gone somewhere quieter while she wasn't paying attention, replaced by something she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to be feeling toward a man who had, not ten minutes ago, pinned her to the floor and called her a witch.
But he looked… lost. That was the word that kept circling back. Not dangerous-lost, not the wild-eyed unpredictability of someone you needed to run from. Just lost.
His eyes were staring, but whatever they were seeing, wasn't in the room. It was something considerably worse than whatever floral calendar and shelf of terra cotta pots were actually in front of him.
She'd seen that look before.
On men who'd come back from overseas and sat in the pews at St. Benedict's on Sunday mornings, staring at the stained glass with that same hollow, distant focus. Present but not present. Seeing Normandy or the Pacific or some foxhole outside Bastogne instead of the story of Pentecost rendered in jewel-toned light.
Poor thing, she thought, against her better judgment and every reasonable instinct of self-preservation.
The real question now was where he'd come from, and whether anyone was looking for him.
The state institutions weren't, by any account she'd ever heard -and she'd heard plenty- places that took particularly good care of anyone. Overcrowded, underfunded, and more concerned with keeping people contained than actually helping them get better.
Some families made their own arrangements instead. An attic room, a trusted relative, a situation that worked well enough until it didn't.
She looked at his clothes again, cataloging details she'd been too frightened to notice before.
The quality of the leather in that belt, in those boots. The weight of the fabric in his shirt, even dirty and sweat-stained as it was. The craftsmanship in the stitching, the buckles, the strange straps running down his thick thighs.
Not cheap. None of it was cheap.
Wealthy family, then. Wealthy enough to commission custom theatrical costumes, or whatever this was. Wealthy enough to keep their troubled son at home rather than surrender him to the state system. Wealthy enough to preserve the family name by keeping the problem private.
And then he'd gotten out somehow -wandered off, slipped away during a moment of inattention- and ended up here.
In her stockroom.
On her begonias.
She uncrossed her arms slowly, a deliberate gesture of peace, or at least of temporary ceasefire.
Alright.
"I have an immersion heater," she said, keeping her voice gentle, unthreatening. "Do you want some chamomile tea?"
He turned from the wall and looked at her with that steady, unreadable gaze.
"Chamomile," he repeated. “What is… tea?”
She blinked at him. He couldn't be serious.
"It's… like a herbal broth, I suppose." She gestured vaguely toward the little table, where she had a tin of teabags and the mug. "You put hot water and the dried flowers that come into a little bag. It's calming. Helps with..."
She trailed off, unsure how to finish that sentence. Helps with shock? Helps with whatever is going on in that head of yours?
"It's nice," she settled on. "Soothing."
Something moved across his face. A flicker of recognition, maybe, or consideration. His gaze went to the tin, then back to her, assessing.
A pause. He seemed to be weighing this information against some internal metric she couldn't guess at. Deciding something.
Then: "No."
Simple. Firm. Final.
Not exactly hostile, but borderline rude.
She blinked. "No?"
"No," he repeated. His hand was still braced against the shelving unit, white-knuckled, like he needed it to stay upright. "I don't need some herb-water. I need to think.”
Fair enough, she supposed. Though he looked like he could use something warm and settling, standing there pale and swaying slightly like a man who'd taken a harder hit than he was willing to admit.
But she wasn't about to force tea on someone who'd already demonstrated he had very effective reflexes, and a concerning assumption she was a practitioner of dark arts.
"Alright," she said. "No tea."
She shifted her weight, smoothed her skirt once more with both hands, and decided that if they were going to be standing in her stockroom together so early in the morning, the least they could do was know each other's names.
So she gave him hers.
He held her gaze for a moment, eyes narrowing with suspicion. But then, his shoulders dropped into a stiff, old-school posture, seeming to accept the exchange.
"Sir James Buchanan Barnes," he said. Each word precisely articulated, formal. "Knight of the Realm."
She blinked.
Knight. Sir.
They were committing fully to the delusion, then.
Hospice or relative's attic, definitely. Or perhaps a family arrangement gone wrong, some relative's responsibility until he'd slipped away when their back was turned. Poor man, probably thought he was Richard the Lionheart half the time.
"Right," she said, very carefully. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Barnes."
----
He frowned.
No curtsy. No change in her posture, no dip of the chin, no clasping of hands or murmured sir or any of the thousand small genuflections that should have followed an introduction like that.
She'd just looked at him, the way one might acknowledge a tradesman. A merchant. A peasant.
Either she didn't recognize what a knight was, which would mean she was poorly educated -but that made no sense, because even the lowest-born knew what a knight was, even children knew- or she knew perfectly well and was choosing to ignore it discourteously.
An insult delivered with that same gentle, careful voice she'd used to offer him a herbal infusion.
The third option, that the title meant nothing here, that it carried no weight at all in this place, he set aside. Pushed it into the same corner of his mind where he was keeping 1955 and New Wintermouth and the impossible light hanging from the ceiling.
He wasn't ready to look at any of those directly yet. Wasn't ready to line them up and see what picture they made together.
It didn't matter. Not right now.
What mattered was the door behind her, and what lay beyond that door. What this place was, and whether the wrongness ended at the stockroom walls or continued out into the streets beyond.
He needed to move. Needed to get outside and find a street corner, a landmark, a church spire, something. Anything he could use to orient himself. Because right now the walls of this small room were doing something to his breathing that he was going to attribute entirely to the bruised ribs and not examine any further.
He pushed off the shelving unit, steadying himself.
"I'm leaving," he said.
It wasn’t a request. Just a statement of fact.
"Wait-" she started, taking half a step toward him, one hand lifting in a gesture that might have been placating or restraining or both. "You don't look so good. Maybe you should sit down for-"
"I'm aware," he said.
The words came out hard, but God's wounds, he didn't need her to tell him he looked like hell. He could feel it in every breath, every movement. Could taste it in the back of his throat, all dust and bile.
He probably looked exactly like he felt.
Which was, to put it charitably, like shit.
He ignored her and made for the door, the one that presumably led out of this cramped back room and into the rest of whatever establishment she was running.
"Is there someone I should call?" she asked behind him.
He paused, with hand on the doorframe.
Call?
The word hung there, strange and contextless. Call as in... summon? Send for?
"Give notice to, you mean?" he said, not turning around.
A beat of silence. Then: "I- yes. Someone who'd be worried. Family members, or..."
"No," he said. "That won't be necessary."
He pulled the door open and stepped through.
----
The proper shop opened up before him, and he stopped.
Well.
She hadn't lied, at least. She did, apparently, sell flowers.
The room was larger than the stockroom, lined with tables and shelving at different heights. Buckets and vases everywhere, stuffed full of blooms in various states of opening, roses, lilies, things he didn't have names for in colors that looked almost too vivid to be real.
Along the walls: more displays. Wreaths hung on hooks. Arrangements in ceramic containers. A small table near the window held potted plants, their leaves dark and waxy.
He walked further in, boots heavy on the wooden floor, his gaze moving over the inventory. The flowers were fine. Good quality, even, from what he could see. Fresh, well-tended, the kind of stock that spoke to either a reliable supplier or exceptional luck.
But flowers.
Flowers.
He tried to reconcile the economics of it and came up blank.
They were... what? A luxury for feast days and weddings. A merchant's wife might buy a small bouquet for her table if she had coin to spare and wanted to show it. A nobleman might send flowers as a token to a lady he was courting, but even then, it was usually a single perfect one, not an entire shop's worth.
How could this possibly sustain a business? Not a shabby street stall where overhead was low and expectations lower, but an entire building. With a dedicated stockroom.
Who was buying this many flowers?
His gaze drifted back toward the stockroom door, where she was still standing there, one hand braced against the doorframe, watching him as though he were the source of confusion here.
He broke eye contact first.
Because looking at her for too long made his thoughts arrange themselves in directions he did not care for. The scandalous skirt and the colored lips. The shop full of flowers that could not possibly keep a roof over anyone’s head unless the flowers were not, in fact, the point.
A front, then.
A respectable veneer for a less respectable trade.
He felt his face go hot.
Whatever this establishment was, whatever this city was, whatever madness had brought him here, he would not find answers standing in the middle of a flower shop while a half-dressed woman studied him like a puzzle she was trying to solve.
He needed air.
He needed sky.
He needed to see the street.
So he turned toward the front door.
“Mr. Barnes-”
The name stopped him for half a breath. Not Sir Barnes. Not Sir James. Mr. Barnes, again, as if she had decided the rest of him was decoration.
He did not turn around.
“I said I’m leaving.”
“I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”
"Your concern," he said, reaching for the door, "is noted. And dismissed."
There was a chime above it. He noticed it only when the door opened and the thing gave a bright, ridiculous little bell, cheerful as a jester's cap.
He made it three steps past the door before the world stopped making sense.
Summary: Bucky becomes acquainted with a woman at an ongoing film festival of old movies. Through a series of moments and misunderstandings something develops between them.
Length: 6.1 K
Characters: Bucky Barnes, OFC (named, not described), Sam Wilson, minor OMC (named, not described)
Warnings and other notes: Reference to the Blip, low self-esteem, misunderstandings. Set after TFATWS but before CABNW.
🎞️ 🍿 🥤
It wasn't the first time Bucky saw her at the movie theatre. But it was the first time he saw her there by herself and she seemed bothered by something. The movie that Thursday evening was A Guy Named Joe, a 1943 movie about a World War II pilot who crashed and died before he made it to his new posting as a flight instructor back home. He left behind his sweetheart, also a pilot, who ferried aircraft for the Air Transport Auxiliary. Starring Spencer Tracey, Van Johnson, and Irene Dunne, it was the fifth film in an ongoing film festival made up of 1940s movies. Sam bought a pair of passes for the ten film series but couldn't make it that night as he had to be in Washington. It was his way of getting the super soldier out and about, instead of brooding alone in his apartment. Bucky had considered not going that night, but felt a little guilty about wasting money that someone else spent on him and changed his mind.
The woman had always gone with someone before. For the first three movies, spaced out over three weeks, she went with the same man. Bucky assumed he was her boyfriend based on how animated she seemed with him, then on the fourth week she was with a woman. Tonight she was on her own, sitting two rows ahead of Bucky and over by several seats. He could see her face from where he always sat, trying to focus on the movie, but it was obvious she wasn't happy. At the end of the film, she wiped her eyes with her fingers, in a way that made him sure she was crying, and not about the movie, which had been quite entertaining. Although the special effects weren't even close to what movies these days had, for the time period, Bucky was impressed even with all the propaganda aspects of it. He was pretty sure he had seen it on the base in England when he was a Howling Commando as there were parts that seemed familiar.
As the house lights in the theatre came on at the end of the film, and everyone stood up, gathering their empty popcorn bags and drink containers, he watched as she sat for several minutes before standing. She picked up her sweater, put it on, and slung her purse over her shoulder, then moved towards the aisle. Bucky's sensitive hearing heard the sound of keys falling but she kept going. Quickly, he made his way to her row and saw the keys on the floor near her seat. Picking them up, he hurried towards the exit, trying to spot her in the crowd of people ahead of him. It wasn't until he got out of the theatre that he saw her, about half a block down, just at the moment she reached into her pocket and realized her keys were gone. Turning back towards the theatre, she scanned the sidewalk, then the people close by, and that's when he approached her. Up close, in the glow of the neon light that spilled onto the sidewalk from the window of the bar beside her, she was beautiful.
"Miss, you dropped these in the theatre," he said, offering them. "They fell out of your sweater pocket."
"Oh, thank you so much," she answered, looking up at him as she took them, hesitating for a second when she saw his leather gloves. "For a moment I panicked when I realized they were gone. I thought someone took them."
"If I saw someone stealing them from you I would have stopped them." He looked past her briefly before making eye contact with her. "I've seen you at the other films for the festival. You're usually with someone. So am I, but my friend couldn't make it tonight."
Although she smiled, she stepped back. Something sad but subtle flashed across her face, then it was gone.
"Yeah, I bought two passes for my boyfriend and me but we broke up ten days ago. My girlfriend came with me last week but she's not really into old movies so I guess I'm on my own for the rest." She looked away then lifted the keys up. "Thank you for these. I should be going."
Sam would have poked him in the side at that moment and whispered that he should keep talking to her but Bucky could tell she just wanted to go. Nodding his head, he stepped aside, essentially releasing her, and watched as she walked away from him, immersing herself in the stream of people on the sidewalk. Shoving his gloved hands in his pocket, he headed back to the quiet loneliness of his small apartment.
The week passed like it always passed for Bucky; lunch at one of several small restaurants in his neighbourhood, endless window shopping, with the occasional browsing in a book store, followed by a take out meal eaten in front of the television, not really watching whatever passed for entertainment on the screen. Most of it was too fast, with fake laugh tracks, full of double entendres, or sexual innuendo that made Bucky cringe most of the time. It's not that he was a prude. Hell, if he had a steady girlfriend he liked to think that he remembered enough from when he was the other Bucky to keep her satisfied. To someone who was alone too much, it seemed that television was a poor replacement for actual human contact. But he often felt like he was on display when he was out; recognized by people who were either afraid of him, or put off by the "resting bitch face" that Sam told him he had.
The pair of them had hoped that what they did with the Flag Smashers had proved to the authorities that there was still a need for the Avengers but the interest just wasn't there. They were okay with Sam, offering him contract work to deal with the occasional skirmishes that rose up, managing to spring the extra funds for anyone he brought in to help ... as long as it wasn't Bucky. Apparently the former Winter Soldier was still seen as too much of a risk. At least, that's how he understood it when Sam would break it to him that he couldn't get approval to add him to those missions.
"I'll keep picking away at them," promised his friend. "You're too good of ...."
"Don't say asset," warned Bucky. "I don't ever want to be associated with that term again."
"I was going to say you're too good of a resource to leave sidelined. They'll get it if I have to beat it into their heads."
With Sam back from Washington after his latest attempt to get secure funding he texted about the next film in the series. Bucky responded that it was Anchors Aweigh with Gene Kelly and Frank Sinatra, a musical. Personally, he was ambivalent about going to it, but it had some musical numbers with the animated characters Tom and Jerry, and Bucky had always laughed at them back in the day, so they arranged to meet at the theatre.
As he waited on the street in front of the venue, he saw the woman approach, with a different man this time. By the way she was walking with the guy, whose demeanour bothered Bucky, it was probably a date. She tried to engage the man in conversation, but his replies seemed short and curt and his attention was on anything else but her. That changed a little when she saw Bucky and a small smile appeared on her face.
"Hi. Are you waiting for your friend?"
"Yeah," answered Bucky, quickly scanning the man with her. "He was supposed to be here by now. You found someone to use the other pass?"
"Yeah, this is my date," she replied. "Sorry, I didn't get your name last week. I'm Maddy and this is Hunter."
"Bucky," he said, sticking his hand out to her first, then her date. "You like old movies, Hunter?"
"Not particularly," replied the other man, briefly shaking hands. "But she already paid for it. If it's not my thing we'll probably end up at a sports bar or something."
That flash of sadness appeared on Maddy's face again, but she covered it up quickly, and reached for the door. Bucky beat her to it, holding the door for her with a smile, then stifled his urge to say something rude to Hunter. He definitely didn't like the guy and found it hard to resist the urge to punch him. With a smirk, the other man passed him. Through the glass door Bucky watched them get the passes scanned then Sam arrived, startling him.
"Sorry I'm a little late," he said. "You want popcorn?"
"Yeah."
They showed their passes then joined the lineup at the snack bar where Hunter and Maddy were already at the counter. He asked for a large popcorn, double butter and a large drink, while she ordered a small drink and a candy bar. When the amount was given, Bucky was ready to jump on the guy for his answer.
"You're paying, right? I'll get you next time."
Wordlessly, she took her bank card out and tapped it on the terminal. Hunter grabbed the popcorn and his drink turning away from the counter before the purchase was approved, making Sam notice and shake his head. With a grim acknowledgement of Bucky, she walked past him with her drink, following her date who was almost at the theatre doors. The two men watched him enter before her, reacting to that with grunts of disbelief.
"You know her?"
"She lost her keys last week. I picked them up and gave them to her, then we spoke briefly outside before you got here."
"He's not much of a date, is he?"
Bucky was saved from answering by Sam ordering popcorn for them to share as well as two bottles of water, whipping his wallet out immediately to pay.
Inside the theatre Bucky sought Maddy out, noticing several empty seats a few rows behind her and Hunter. Sam pointed to the same place and they sat, waiting as the theatre filled. They both noticed that Hunter didn't share, as he just shoved handful after handful of popcorn in his mouth, wiping his hand on his shirt. The house lights went down and the brief preview of the next week's classic film, Casablanca, generated some buzz as it was still a favourite. Then the preview ended and the opening credits came up for Anchors Aweigh. It was alright. Gene Kelly out danced everyone while Frank Sinatra irritated Bucky as much as he did in the 1940s.
Halfway through the movie, Hunter said something to Maddy and stood up, blocking the view of the screen while he took his time to get out, presumably to use the men's room. Considering he had ordered a large soft drink it was understandable he couldn't make it through the length of the movie. When he didn't come back in a reasonable time, Bucky focused on Maddy. She kept looking back for Hunter then pulled her phone out of her purse, reading a message on it and bowing her head in the darkened theatre. Watching her carefully, Bucky felt angry when he saw her wipe her eyes again, like she did the week before. Then she gathered her sweater and purse and apologetically made her way past the others in the same row.
"I'll be right back," he whispered to Sam, then stood up and went the other way as it was closer to the aisle. Hurrying to the lobby, he looked for Maddy, seeing her sweater disappear into the ladies' room just as the door closed. Approaching it, he waited outside but listened, sure he could hear someone crying inside.
"Asshole," he muttered under his breath.
Another woman came out, glancing at him, then shook her head, figuring he was the reason Maddy was in there. It was hard not to give in to the rage that was building inside, at how thoughtless Hunter had been. Then he heard the toilet flush and pushed himself away from the wall where he waited. A few moments later the door opened and Maddy stopped in the doorway when she saw him. Her eyes were puffy and red, and she looked away in embarrassment.
"Are you alright?" asked Bucky. She shook her head, pressing her lips together as if trying to stave off round two of crying. "Come sit with us." She shook her head again. "Okay, we can sit at the back where no one sees you."
"I'm not very good company."
"Well, I've been accused of that myself," he answered. “Once I would left a lady halfway through a date. It was wrong and I vowed never to do it again."
"What about your friend?"
He took his cell phone out and texted Sam, knowing that he always kept his phone on vibrate.
"I just told him that I'll be sitting at the back with you." Holding out his gloved hand, he waited for her to take it. "Come on."
Without looking directly at him, she placed her hand in his, letting him lead her back into the darkened theatre. They waited a moment to get their bearings, then slid into the third last row on the side where no one else was sitting. Bucky smiled at her, then returned his attention to the screen, while remaining fully aware of her beside him. The movie, longer than the one the previous week, still had another hour of run time but Maddy stayed there right until the end. As the house lights came on, Bucky stayed seated, waiting for Sam to appear in the aisle. He saw them as he came towards the exit, glancing over at her then stepped into the empty row ahead of them.
"Hey," he said, looking kindly at her. "I'm Sam."
"Maddy," she replied, looking at him carefully then she frowned slightly. "Sam Wilson, as in Captain America?"
"Yeah," he grinned. "That's me. Are you alright?"
She looked at Bucky, as if seeing him for the first time. "That means you're Bucky Barnes. You look different than you did on TV. You both do."
"In a good way, I hope," grinned Sam. "No offence but that guy you were with was bad news. He wasn't your boyfriend was he?"
"No, he wasn't. He's a gym bro that my friend set me up with to forget that my boyfriend cheated on me." She sighed. "I knew as soon as I met up with him that this wouldn't go well. I'm so stupid."
"No, don't say that," murmured Bucky. "You're not. Hunter was an idiot. You're better off without him."
The stream of people in the aisle thinned out a bit and Sam tilted his head slightly at Bucky, seeming to make a decision.
"Listen, we were going to head out for some food after the movie. Join us."
"I don't want to intrude," she said. "I mean this is your date, isn't it?"
They looked at each other and Sam started to laugh. "We're friends, not good friends," he explained.
"Occasional co-workers," dead-panned Bucky. "Can barely tolerate him most of the time."
That brought a smile to her face. Seeing it, the super soldier stood up and stepped to the aisle, as did Sam, waiting for her. Exhaling her breath, Maddy stood up, noticing that they let her go first and followed behind her. In the lobby, Sam stepped ahead to open the door to the outside, holding it for both her and Bucky. On the sidewalk, they placed themselves on either side of her.
"So, where are we going for food?" she asked.
"I don't know. Bucky, what are you feeling like?"
"Anything. You know me. I'll eat anything."
They walked past several places that were full, then paused at a pizza place, peering through the window to see if they were full. A man from inside came out and recognized Sam, inviting him in. Accepting, they sat and went through the menu, making their choices, ordering beer for Sam and Bucky, while Maddy chose a soft drink.
When their drinks came and they each took a sip she looked at the two men.
"So, you're into old movies?"
"Not exactly," answered Bucky. "I've seen a lot from the 1930s but not many from 1945 on. Just trying to catch up on what I missed."
It was a vague answer that seemed to make him uncomfortable as he pressed his lips together and looked away.
"I'll say it, if he won't," interrupted Sam. "He was captured in 1945 and didn't escape until 2014. Watching movies wasn't part of his training regimen. I've taken it on myself to get him up to speed but he's not the most cooperative guy."
"Sam." An imperceptible shake of the head was the only warning Bucky gave.
"I'm sorry I asked," said Maddy. "I guess seeing a 1940s musical is kind of trivial considering all you went through."
"I prefer that music," he admitted, then nodded at Sam. "He's trying to broaden my horizons in that as well." A shrug followed that comment. "I don't mind Motown and the Beatles are pretty good."
"Admit it, I'm a good friend for trying to get you up to speed." The other man gloated a little, then looked at Maddy. "So, what about you? What do you do for a living?"
"Nothing exciting like you two." She sipped her drink. "I'm a children's librarian at Brooklyn Public Library, the central library location. I enjoy it, although it's only part-time right now."
"Can I ask you something?"
Bucky glared at Sam who had apparently nudged him in the leg for asking that.
She closed her eyes then opened them. "He said I wasn't committed to him enough."
"Who said that?" asked Sam, confused. "The guy tonight?"
"No, the boyfriend I broke up with several weeks ago because he was cheating on me. That was his reason. The guy tonight texted me from the lobby that old movies weren't his thing and he didn't think we had anything in common."
"Not what I wanted to ask." She groaned and lowered her head to the table top before looking up at Bucky. His face softened. "Why do you like watching old movies?"
She sighed, wondering if he really wanted to know that. By the look on his face he did.
"They remind me of my childhood and spending the day with my grandma when I was sick because my parents couldn't take the time off from work. She loved the movies and we would watch Turner Classic Movies. I would be on the couch, with a blanket over my legs and a cushion behind me. She would make me eat jello and crackers, and drink ginger ale. It sucked being sick but I felt loved and like someone cared about me."
A satisfied smile appeared on his face. "That sounds nice. Is she still alive?"
"No, she died of cancer a few months after I came back from the Blip. Every time I hear about one of these old film festivals I buy the pass because the films remind me of the time I spent with her." She grimaced. "At least, it did until this one."
"Well, you know us now, so you don't have to go alone. Sam gets called to Washington sometimes but I'm always available for a movie ... with you." He smiled again then looked at Sam. "What's Turner Classic Movies and why haven't you told me about it?"
As Sam explained the pay television channel, their food came. Talking about the movies turned into raving about the pizza. It was hot, cheesy, and the thin crust had just enough crispness around the edges to make it well worth the effort. The banter between the two men entertained Maddy, who realized that beneath the teasing nature of Sam Wilson, and the snark emanating from Bucky, the two men were very good friends. It was obvious by the way they interacted with her and the restaurant staff that they were gentlemen. She appreciated the effort they made to include her in the conversation, by listening to her library stories while sharing tales about the people they knew and some of the crazy things they had done in their own lives before and after the Blip. The evening was one of the most enjoyable times she had experienced.
It was late when they came out of the pizza restaurant. The skies were dark with low hanging clouds and the air was humid enough for Maddy to check the weather app on her phone.
"I should get a ride share," she said, reading the forecast. "Looks like it's going to rain soon and I don't want to be stuck walking a couple of blocks from the subway in a downpour."
Sam took his cellphone out. "Let us book it for you."
"It's okay, I can afford it," she said, beating him to it. "I can text you both when I'm safe in my apartment, if you would give me your numbers. Just in case you want to meet for coffee or something."
The two men glanced at each other, then Sam unlocked his phone and handed it to her. After she returned it, he texted her, watching as she saved his contact information. With a mock scowl Bucky did the same, although he would never admit to anyone that he was thrilled about her asking for his number. Shortly after, her ride arrived. Sam opened the back door and helped her inside, while Bucky leaned through the open front passenger window.
"You don't leave until she's inside her door," he warned the man. "She's important to us."
Promising to honour that, the driver made sure Maddy had her seatbelt on before leaving. Sam and Bucky watched the car until it disappeared into the night before walking to the station together and getting on their respective trains. It started to rain just before they boarded.
During the week Sam was called out for another contract mission on behalf of the military, taking Joaquin Torres along. Bucky, taking a chance, texted Maddy to find out when she would be at the library and showed up when she was almost finished her shift. She was just wrapping up a story-time session for pre-school children, patiently listening to their comments about not just the story but things that popped up in their heads. After the kids and their parents finally dispersed, she came over to where he waited.
"Hi," she said warmly. "I hope you weren't too bored."
"Not bored at all. You were very entertaining."
They walked towards the staff room so she could clock out and pick up her belongings. As he waited for her, several of her work colleagues eyed him, which he tried to ignore as he leaned against the wall, checking to make sure his left hand was fully covered. The library was one of the places he felt comfortable in, although he usually went to a branch closer to where he lived, but this level of scrutiny made him feel too exposed. Joining her when she came out, they soon found themselves out in the warmth of the day. Lunch at a nearby bistro turned into several hours conversation and only ended when a reminder on Maddy's phone chimed and she excused herself to the ladies' room before she headed out for an appointment.
"You're going to Casablanca on Thursday, right?" she asked, on her return from the ladies' room.
"Yeah, and Sam is going to try to make it, if he can get his mission done by then."
He opened his wallet to pay, but was stopped when she put her hand on his. It wasn't an unwelcome touch, and he looked at her hand for a moment longer than necessary, before her words got through to him.
"I took care of it already."
"Maddy ...." He frowned. "I asked you out to lunch."
"I know but you're also on a limited income," she shrugged. "I insist."
"You only work part-time," he countered. "We could have least split the bill."
"Next time." She gathered her things and stood up. "I really have to go or I'll be late. See you Thursday."
She was gone before he could protest any further, hailing a passing taxi. As he walked to the subway, he thought of how much he enjoyed the time spent with her. Watching her interact with the small children in the library had shown a soft side of her, one that made him feel things he thought were buried too deep to ever come out again. The more he was with her, the more he wondered how those other men could dismiss her as not worth their interest. It made him look forward to Thursday, when he would see her again.
Maddy texted them while they waited outside the theatre to say she was running late and to go on in to get good seats. She arrived just before the preview of the next week's film, breathless after running from the subway. Sam stood up and moved over one seat so she could sit between them, handing her a bottle of water.
"You're a lifesaver," she rasped, then laughed and squeezed his arm in thanks. "Literally, you are. I've barely had a moment to myself for the past few hours." She started to explain then the house lights dimmed. "I'll tell you after."
The preview, The Best Years of Our Lives, with Frederic March, Dana Andrews, Harold Russell and Myrna Loy, drew applause and many audible comments from the audience about it being very good. Then the opening of Casablanca started and Maddy watched it intently, unaware of the few moments when she touched the hands of the two men on either side of her. They looked at each other occasionally, grinning, at how she became so engrossed with the film. At the end, when she cried, Bucky gave her his handkerchief, which she accepted with a teary laugh.
"Well, at least I'm crying over something good this time," she murmured. "That is still one of my favourite films. I could watch that many more times."
She handed the handkerchief back to Bucky, who looked up at the blank screen. "Didn't think when I first saw this during the war that it would become a classic."
"You saw it then?" She looked at Bucky with wonder. "Where?"
"In Milwaukee when I was on a weekend's pass from basic," he answered, then thought a bit. "I took May Warner to it." He smiled in a way that Sam had never seen before. "I met her at a dance the night before. Hadn't thought of her in a long time."
As one, they stood up and made their way to the aisle, shuffling their way to the exit. Outside, the two men bracketed Maddy between them while they walked along the sidewalk. Suddenly, she linked her arms with theirs drawing amused looks from them.
"You seem to be in a happy mood," stated Sam. "What's going on?"
Grinning, she pulled them in closer. "Well, I got very good news today." They stopped at the corner, waiting for a break in the traffic so they could cross. She resumed after they reached the other side. "You know that I turned to dust, was declared dead, etc., and pretty much lost everything as it all went to my family, who didn't exactly use it wisely. My grandmother invited me to live with her and gave me money as I couldn't get a full time job. She also changed her will, leaving me more money to live on." She looked at Bucky. "That's why even though I work part-time I'm not worried about money. When I wasn't working at the library, I worked on writing a novel. It got published, sold reasonably well and today the movie rights went for a lot of money."
"That's great!" exclaimed Sam. "What's the title of the book?"
She named it making Sam whistle out loud. "You seriously wrote that? It's kind of spicy, isn't it?"
Shrugging, she looked up at them in turn. "Yes. I might be a children's librarian but I'm not a prude. I write under a pen name, wear a wig and much more makeup for my head shot that's used on the book. I look different enough that fans don't recognize me. I'm still going to work at the library but now I don't have to worry about paying rent for a long time."
"Congratulations," said Bucky. "I'll have to read your book sometime."
"I'll give you a copy," she said. "Now that my work life is set I just have to take care of my love life." She seemed to shrink a little as she walked between them. "I admit that I haven't had the best luck in that department. I met Jared a few months after I reappeared and thought we had something special but he was cheating on me for some time. He had the nerve to say I was so wrapped up in writing that he felt like he came second. At least Hunter was only a single date but they both treated me like I didn't matter and didn't deserve the tears I wasted on them."
"No, they didn't," answered Bucky, who got quiet for a moment as he chose his next words. "Do you want our help in finding a new boyfriend?"
Sam glanced at him, wondering why Bucky asked her that. A small nervous laugh from Maddy was followed by her stepping close to a building so they were out of the way. At first she fidgeted a little then she found it in her to answer, sounding both hesitant and hopeful.
"Actually, I was wondering if either of you were interested in dating me. You comforted me when I was hurting, made me laugh, and I had the best time with both of you. I'm pretty easy to get along with, as long as you don't try to interrupt me when I'm writing."
"So, you want us to decide which one of us gets to date you?" asked Bucky, with a serious face.
"It doesn't sound so good when you say it that way. Do either of you even like me like that?"
The two men shifted their feet and looked pointedly at each other. Neither said anything, although by the way Bucky looked at Sam, she wondered if she had set one against the other. It filled her with a sinking feeling. With a glance around them, the super soldier pulled her towards where an alley opened to the street so they could have more privacy.
"Don't get me wrong," said Sam, as he followed. "I think you're something else and I like you but only as a friend since you're not my type."
"I'm not your type?" She frowned, then opened her eyes wide. "Oh ... oh! I feel so stupid. When I said you two were on a date and you said you were friends but not good friends I took it to mean you weren't ... it doesn't matter. I'm so sorry."
She covered her face with her hands and turned away. Sam looked at Bucky for help, then put his own hand on her shoulder, and turned her back towards him.
"It's okay but it's not that. I'm kind of flattered you think I'm boyfriend material."
Still upset, she started to back away so she could leave but Bucky reached for her and pulled her back once more, holding her by her elbow.
"Where are you going?"
"Home. I've totally embarrassed myself."
"No, you haven't." He slid his hand from her elbow to her hand, lifting it to his lips and kissing it gently. "I should have said something sooner."
"Sooner?"
"I didn't want to rush you. I mean you only broke up with your boyfriend a few weeks ago, and you had that terrible date that really upset you. It seemed better to be friends first and then ask you out."
"You like me?"
"Yeah, I do. But you need to know that I'm not easy." Sam rolled his eyes and huffed. "No comments from the peanut gallery."
She ignored Sam and focused on Bucky. "Why aren't you easy?"
"I have issues. PTSD, a tendency to withdraw when things bother me. I wanted to punch Hunter in the face as soon as I met him, which isn't good, but I figured he had it coming. If we start seeing each other I'll probably be jealous of any guy who tries to flirt with you." He sighed audibly. "I'll do my best not to let it be a problem. I was going to insist that you let me pay for things since I'm old school, but I can work on that. Truthfully, I wasn't sure that I was enough for you."
"Enough for me? Have you ...." She looked at Sam, in disbelief. "Does he know?"
"No, he hasn't a clue." Bucky glared at him. "You really don't."
"What do you two mean?"
The tall dark-haired super soldier was pouting a little and she couldn't help but place her hand on his cheek to make him look at her with those gorgeous eyes of blue framed by thick dark lashes.
"In the pictures of you when you were young, you were cute in a boy next door kind of way. But now ...." She breathed out. "You're in another league. When you came to see me at the library, even the most feminist librarians who were close to retirement were suddenly wondering if they should put some lipstick on, and check their hair. The next day they all wanted to know how I knew you and if we were a couple."
"They were staring at me," he mumbled. "I don't like being stared at. It makes me feel like they only see what I was."
"Oh Bucky. You're a big hunk of sexy man, who might have problems, but is kind and decent inside. That's more than enough for me." Once more he looked away. "Remember the night when you found my keys and gave them to me? I cried at the end of that movie, not just because of it but because I was wondering when I would finally find someone to love me the way that I deserved. My grandmother said that one day I would find the right love although I might not recognize it at first. She said the same things Spencer Tracey said; that the kind of love worth having is the kind that goes on living and laughing and fighting for what's right. That's you, wrapped up in a body that is something else."
Sam's face broke into a broad grin as she spoke. "She's right, Buck. I might tease you but I don't see the man who tore my steering wheel out of my hands when he tried to kill me. Haven't seen him in a long time. You have your faults like any other man, but you're one of the best men I know."
Bucky saw how she looked at him at that moment. Her eyes shone with an emotion that he hadn't seen for a long time, then she smiled in a way that he wanted to see as much as possible for as long as he could. There really was only one thing left that he had to do. Pulling her closer he cupped her cheek with one hand and pressed his lips against hers. With one of her hands on his back and the other pressed against his chest, she eagerly accepted his kiss.
Sheepishly, Sam moved away from them, turning around to give them privacy. He almost laughed at how much this moment was like one of those old movies where the rich heiress gets her heart broken by someone she once trusted. Then she finds true love in the arms of the grumpy, regular guy who thinks he has nothing to offer; nothing except kindness, decency, and a love that would always be just for her. Glancing back at the pair, he grinned at how good they looked together. It was just like in the movies.
One Shots Masterlist
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Summary: Bucky becomes acquainted with a woman at an ongoing film festival of old movies. Through a series of moments and misunderstandings something develops between them.
Length: 6.1 K
Characters: Bucky Barnes, OFC (named, not described), Sam Wilson, minor OMC (named, not described)
Warnings and other notes: Reference to the Blip, low self-esteem, misunderstandings. Set after TFATWS but before CABNW.
🎞️ 🍿 🥤
It wasn't the first time Bucky saw her at the movie theatre. But it was the first time he saw her there by herself and she seemed bothered by something. The movie that Thursday evening was A Guy Named Joe, a 1943 movie about a World War II pilot who crashed and died before he made it to his new posting as a flight instructor back home. He left behind his sweetheart, also a pilot, who ferried aircraft for the Air Transport Auxiliary. Starring Spencer Tracey, Van Johnson, and Irene Dunne, it was the fifth film in an ongoing film festival made up of 1940s movies. Sam bought a pair of passes for the ten film series but couldn't make it that night as he had to be in Washington. It was his way of getting the super soldier out and about, instead of brooding alone in his apartment. Bucky had considered not going that night, but felt a little guilty about wasting money that someone else spent on him and changed his mind.
The woman had always gone with someone before. For the first three movies, spaced out over three weeks, she went with the same man. Bucky assumed he was her boyfriend based on how animated she seemed with him, then on the fourth week she was with a woman. Tonight she was on her own, sitting two rows ahead of Bucky and over by several seats. He could see her face from where he always sat, trying to focus on the movie, but it was obvious she wasn't happy. At the end of the film, she wiped her eyes with her fingers, in a way that made him sure she was crying, and not about the movie, which had been quite entertaining. Although the special effects weren't even close to what movies these days had, for the time period, Bucky was impressed even with all the propaganda aspects of it. He was pretty sure he had seen it on the base in England when he was a Howling Commando as there were parts that seemed familiar.
As the house lights in the theatre came on at the end of the film, and everyone stood up, gathering their empty popcorn bags and drink containers, he watched as she sat for several minutes before standing. She picked up her sweater, put it on, and slung her purse over her shoulder, then moved towards the aisle. Bucky's sensitive hearing heard the sound of keys falling but she kept going. Quickly, he made his way to her row and saw the keys on the floor near her seat. Picking them up, he hurried towards the exit, trying to spot her in the crowd of people ahead of him. It wasn't until he got out of the theatre that he saw her, about half a block down, just at the moment she reached into her pocket and realized her keys were gone. Turning back towards the theatre, she scanned the sidewalk, then the people close by, and that's when he approached her. Up close, in the glow of the neon light that spilled onto the sidewalk from the window of the bar beside her, she was beautiful.
"Miss, you dropped these in the theatre," he said, offering them. "They fell out of your sweater pocket."
"Oh, thank you so much," she answered, looking up at him as she took them, hesitating for a second when she saw his leather gloves. "For a moment I panicked when I realized they were gone. I thought someone took them."
"If I saw someone stealing them from you I would have stopped them." He looked past her briefly before making eye contact with her. "I've seen you at the other films for the festival. You're usually with someone. So am I, but my friend couldn't make it tonight."
Although she smiled, she stepped back. Something sad but subtle flashed across her face, then it was gone.
"Yeah, I bought two passes for my boyfriend and me but we broke up ten days ago. My girlfriend came with me last week but she's not really into old movies so I guess I'm on my own for the rest." She looked away then lifted the keys up. "Thank you for these. I should be going."
Sam would have poked him in the side at that moment and whispered that he should keep talking to her but Bucky could tell she just wanted to go. Nodding his head, he stepped aside, essentially releasing her, and watched as she walked away from him, immersing herself in the stream of people on the sidewalk. Shoving his gloved hands in his pocket, he headed back to the quiet loneliness of his small apartment.
The week passed like it always passed for Bucky; lunch at one of several small restaurants in his neighbourhood, endless window shopping, with the occasional browsing in a book store, followed by a take out meal eaten in front of the television, not really watching whatever passed for entertainment on the screen. Most of it was too fast, with fake laugh tracks, full of double entendres, or sexual innuendo that made Bucky cringe most of the time. It's not that he was a prude. Hell, if he had a steady girlfriend he liked to think that he remembered enough from when he was the other Bucky to keep her satisfied. To someone who was alone too much, it seemed that television was a poor replacement for actual human contact. But he often felt like he was on display when he was out; recognized by people who were either afraid of him, or put off by the "resting bitch face" that Sam told him he had.
The pair of them had hoped that what they did with the Flag Smashers had proved to the authorities that there was still a need for the Avengers but the interest just wasn't there. They were okay with Sam, offering him contract work to deal with the occasional skirmishes that rose up, managing to spring the extra funds for anyone he brought in to help ... as long as it wasn't Bucky. Apparently the former Winter Soldier was still seen as too much of a risk. At least, that's how he understood it when Sam would break it to him that he couldn't get approval to add him to those missions.
"I'll keep picking away at them," promised his friend. "You're too good of ...."
"Don't say asset," warned Bucky. "I don't ever want to be associated with that term again."
"I was going to say you're too good of a resource to leave sidelined. They'll get it if I have to beat it into their heads."
With Sam back from Washington after his latest attempt to get secure funding he texted about the next film in the series. Bucky responded that it was Anchors Aweigh with Gene Kelly and Frank Sinatra, a musical. Personally, he was ambivalent about going to it, but it had some musical numbers with the animated characters Tom and Jerry, and Bucky had always laughed at them back in the day, so they arranged to meet at the theatre.
As he waited on the street in front of the venue, he saw the woman approach, with a different man this time. By the way she was walking with the guy, whose demeanour bothered Bucky, it was probably a date. She tried to engage the man in conversation, but his replies seemed short and curt and his attention was on anything else but her. That changed a little when she saw Bucky and a small smile appeared on her face.
"Hi. Are you waiting for your friend?"
"Yeah," answered Bucky, quickly scanning the man with her. "He was supposed to be here by now. You found someone to use the other pass?"
"Yeah, this is my date," she replied. "Sorry, I didn't get your name last week. I'm Maddy and this is Hunter."
"Bucky," he said, sticking his hand out to her first, then her date. "You like old movies, Hunter?"
"Not particularly," replied the other man, briefly shaking hands. "But she already paid for it. If it's not my thing we'll probably end up at a sports bar or something."
That flash of sadness appeared on Maddy's face again, but she covered it up quickly, and reached for the door. Bucky beat her to it, holding the door for her with a smile, then stifled his urge to say something rude to Hunter. He definitely didn't like the guy and found it hard to resist the urge to punch him. With a smirk, the other man passed him. Through the glass door Bucky watched them get the passes scanned then Sam arrived, startling him.
"Sorry I'm a little late," he said. "You want popcorn?"
"Yeah."
They showed their passes then joined the lineup at the snack bar where Hunter and Maddy were already at the counter. He asked for a large popcorn, double butter and a large drink, while she ordered a small drink and a candy bar. When the amount was given, Bucky was ready to jump on the guy for his answer.
"You're paying, right? I'll get you next time."
Wordlessly, she took her bank card out and tapped it on the terminal. Hunter grabbed the popcorn and his drink turning away from the counter before the purchase was approved, making Sam notice and shake his head. With a grim acknowledgement of Bucky, she walked past him with her drink, following her date who was almost at the theatre doors. The two men watched him enter before her, reacting to that with grunts of disbelief.
"You know her?"
"She lost her keys last week. I picked them up and gave them to her, then we spoke briefly outside before you got here."
"He's not much of a date, is he?"
Bucky was saved from answering by Sam ordering popcorn for them to share as well as two bottles of water, whipping his wallet out immediately to pay.
Inside the theatre Bucky sought Maddy out, noticing several empty seats a few rows behind her and Hunter. Sam pointed to the same place and they sat, waiting as the theatre filled. They both noticed that Hunter didn't share, as he just shoved handful after handful of popcorn in his mouth, wiping his hand on his shirt. The house lights went down and the brief preview of the next week's classic film, Casablanca, generated some buzz as it was still a favourite. Then the preview ended and the opening credits came up for Anchors Aweigh. It was alright. Gene Kelly out danced everyone while Frank Sinatra irritated Bucky as much as he did in the 1940s.
Halfway through the movie, Hunter said something to Maddy and stood up, blocking the view of the screen while he took his time to get out, presumably to use the men's room. Considering he had ordered a large soft drink it was understandable he couldn't make it through the length of the movie. When he didn't come back in a reasonable time, Bucky focused on Maddy. She kept looking back for Hunter then pulled her phone out of her purse, reading a message on it and bowing her head in the darkened theatre. Watching her carefully, Bucky felt angry when he saw her wipe her eyes again, like she did the week before. Then she gathered her sweater and purse and apologetically made her way past the others in the same row.
"I'll be right back," he whispered to Sam, then stood up and went the other way as it was closer to the aisle. Hurrying to the lobby, he looked for Maddy, seeing her sweater disappear into the ladies' room just as the door closed. Approaching it, he waited outside but listened, sure he could hear someone crying inside.
"Asshole," he muttered under his breath.
Another woman came out, glancing at him, then shook her head, figuring he was the reason Maddy was in there. It was hard not to give in to the rage that was building inside, at how thoughtless Hunter had been. Then he heard the toilet flush and pushed himself away from the wall where he waited. A few moments later the door opened and Maddy stopped in the doorway when she saw him. Her eyes were puffy and red, and she looked away in embarrassment.
"Are you alright?" asked Bucky. She shook her head, pressing her lips together as if trying to stave off round two of crying. "Come sit with us." She shook her head again. "Okay, we can sit at the back where no one sees you."
"I'm not very good company."
"Well, I've been accused of that myself," he answered. “Once I would left a lady halfway through a date. It was wrong and I vowed never to do it again."
"What about your friend?"
He took his cell phone out and texted Sam, knowing that he always kept his phone on vibrate.
"I just told him that I'll be sitting at the back with you." Holding out his gloved hand, he waited for her to take it. "Come on."
Without looking directly at him, she placed her hand in his, letting him lead her back into the darkened theatre. They waited a moment to get their bearings, then slid into the third last row on the side where no one else was sitting. Bucky smiled at her, then returned his attention to the screen, while remaining fully aware of her beside him. The movie, longer than the one the previous week, still had another hour of run time but Maddy stayed there right until the end. As the house lights came on, Bucky stayed seated, waiting for Sam to appear in the aisle. He saw them as he came towards the exit, glancing over at her then stepped into the empty row ahead of them.
"Hey," he said, looking kindly at her. "I'm Sam."
"Maddy," she replied, looking at him carefully then she frowned slightly. "Sam Wilson, as in Captain America?"
"Yeah," he grinned. "That's me. Are you alright?"
She looked at Bucky, as if seeing him for the first time. "That means you're Bucky Barnes. You look different than you did on TV. You both do."
"In a good way, I hope," grinned Sam. "No offence but that guy you were with was bad news. He wasn't your boyfriend was he?"
"No, he wasn't. He's a gym bro that my friend set me up with to forget that my boyfriend cheated on me." She sighed. "I knew as soon as I met up with him that this wouldn't go well. I'm so stupid."
"No, don't say that," murmured Bucky. "You're not. Hunter was an idiot. You're better off without him."
The stream of people in the aisle thinned out a bit and Sam tilted his head slightly at Bucky, seeming to make a decision.
"Listen, we were going to head out for some food after the movie. Join us."
"I don't want to intrude," she said. "I mean this is your date, isn't it?"
They looked at each other and Sam started to laugh. "We're friends, not good friends," he explained.
"Occasional co-workers," dead-panned Bucky. "Can barely tolerate him most of the time."
That brought a smile to her face. Seeing it, the super soldier stood up and stepped to the aisle, as did Sam, waiting for her. Exhaling her breath, Maddy stood up, noticing that they let her go first and followed behind her. In the lobby, Sam stepped ahead to open the door to the outside, holding it for both her and Bucky. On the sidewalk, they placed themselves on either side of her.
"So, where are we going for food?" she asked.
"I don't know. Bucky, what are you feeling like?"
"Anything. You know me. I'll eat anything."
They walked past several places that were full, then paused at a pizza place, peering through the window to see if they were full. A man from inside came out and recognized Sam, inviting him in. Accepting, they sat and went through the menu, making their choices, ordering beer for Sam and Bucky, while Maddy chose a soft drink.
When their drinks came and they each took a sip she looked at the two men.
"So, you're into old movies?"
"Not exactly," answered Bucky. "I've seen a lot from the 1930s but not many from 1945 on. Just trying to catch up on what I missed."
It was a vague answer that seemed to make him uncomfortable as he pressed his lips together and looked away.
"I'll say it, if he won't," interrupted Sam. "He was captured in 1945 and didn't escape until 2014. Watching movies wasn't part of his training regimen. I've taken it on myself to get him up to speed but he's not the most cooperative guy."
"Sam." An imperceptible shake of the head was the only warning Bucky gave.
"I'm sorry I asked," said Maddy. "I guess seeing a 1940s musical is kind of trivial considering all you went through."
"I prefer that music," he admitted, then nodded at Sam. "He's trying to broaden my horizons in that as well." A shrug followed that comment. "I don't mind Motown and the Beatles are pretty good."
"Admit it, I'm a good friend for trying to get you up to speed." The other man gloated a little, then looked at Maddy. "So, what about you? What do you do for a living?"
"Nothing exciting like you two." She sipped her drink. "I'm a children's librarian at Brooklyn Public Library, the central library location. I enjoy it, although it's only part-time right now."
"Can I ask you something?"
Bucky glared at Sam who had apparently nudged him in the leg for asking that.
She closed her eyes then opened them. "He said I wasn't committed to him enough."
"Who said that?" asked Sam, confused. "The guy tonight?"
"No, the boyfriend I broke up with several weeks ago because he was cheating on me. That was his reason. The guy tonight texted me from the lobby that old movies weren't his thing and he didn't think we had anything in common."
"Not what I wanted to ask." She groaned and lowered her head to the table top before looking up at Bucky. His face softened. "Why do you like watching old movies?"
She sighed, wondering if he really wanted to know that. By the look on his face he did.
"They remind me of my childhood and spending the day with my grandma when I was sick because my parents couldn't take the time off from work. She loved the movies and we would watch Turner Classic Movies. I would be on the couch, with a blanket over my legs and a cushion behind me. She would make me eat jello and crackers, and drink ginger ale. It sucked being sick but I felt loved and like someone cared about me."
A satisfied smile appeared on his face. "That sounds nice. Is she still alive?"
"No, she died of cancer a few months after I came back from the Blip. Every time I hear about one of these old film festivals I buy the pass because the films remind me of the time I spent with her." She grimaced. "At least, it did until this one."
"Well, you know us now, so you don't have to go alone. Sam gets called to Washington sometimes but I'm always available for a movie ... with you." He smiled again then looked at Sam. "What's Turner Classic Movies and why haven't you told me about it?"
As Sam explained the pay television channel, their food came. Talking about the movies turned into raving about the pizza. It was hot, cheesy, and the thin crust had just enough crispness around the edges to make it well worth the effort. The banter between the two men entertained Maddy, who realized that beneath the teasing nature of Sam Wilson, and the snark emanating from Bucky, the two men were very good friends. It was obvious by the way they interacted with her and the restaurant staff that they were gentlemen. She appreciated the effort they made to include her in the conversation, by listening to her library stories while sharing tales about the people they knew and some of the crazy things they had done in their own lives before and after the Blip. The evening was one of the most enjoyable times she had experienced.
It was late when they came out of the pizza restaurant. The skies were dark with low hanging clouds and the air was humid enough for Maddy to check the weather app on her phone.
"I should get a ride share," she said, reading the forecast. "Looks like it's going to rain soon and I don't want to be stuck walking a couple of blocks from the subway in a downpour."
Sam took his cellphone out. "Let us book it for you."
"It's okay, I can afford it," she said, beating him to it. "I can text you both when I'm safe in my apartment, if you would give me your numbers. Just in case you want to meet for coffee or something."
The two men glanced at each other, then Sam unlocked his phone and handed it to her. After she returned it, he texted her, watching as she saved his contact information. With a mock scowl Bucky did the same, although he would never admit to anyone that he was thrilled about her asking for his number. Shortly after, her ride arrived. Sam opened the back door and helped her inside, while Bucky leaned through the open front passenger window.
"You don't leave until she's inside her door," he warned the man. "She's important to us."
Promising to honour that, the driver made sure Maddy had her seatbelt on before leaving. Sam and Bucky watched the car until it disappeared into the night before walking to the station together and getting on their respective trains. It started to rain just before they boarded.
During the week Sam was called out for another contract mission on behalf of the military, taking Joaquin Torres along. Bucky, taking a chance, texted Maddy to find out when she would be at the library and showed up when she was almost finished her shift. She was just wrapping up a story-time session for pre-school children, patiently listening to their comments about not just the story but things that popped up in their heads. After the kids and their parents finally dispersed, she came over to where he waited.
"Hi," she said warmly. "I hope you weren't too bored."
"Not bored at all. You were very entertaining."
They walked towards the staff room so she could clock out and pick up her belongings. As he waited for her, several of her work colleagues eyed him, which he tried to ignore as he leaned against the wall, checking to make sure his left hand was fully covered. The library was one of the places he felt comfortable in, although he usually went to a branch closer to where he lived, but this level of scrutiny made him feel too exposed. Joining her when she came out, they soon found themselves out in the warmth of the day. Lunch at a nearby bistro turned into several hours conversation and only ended when a reminder on Maddy's phone chimed and she excused herself to the ladies' room before she headed out for an appointment.
"You're going to Casablanca on Thursday, right?" she asked, on her return from the ladies' room.
"Yeah, and Sam is going to try to make it, if he can get his mission done by then."
He opened his wallet to pay, but was stopped when she put her hand on his. It wasn't an unwelcome touch, and he looked at her hand for a moment longer than necessary, before her words got through to him.
"I took care of it already."
"Maddy ...." He frowned. "I asked you out to lunch."
"I know but you're also on a limited income," she shrugged. "I insist."
"You only work part-time," he countered. "We could have least split the bill."
"Next time." She gathered her things and stood up. "I really have to go or I'll be late. See you Thursday."
She was gone before he could protest any further, hailing a passing taxi. As he walked to the subway, he thought of how much he enjoyed the time spent with her. Watching her interact with the small children in the library had shown a soft side of her, one that made him feel things he thought were buried too deep to ever come out again. The more he was with her, the more he wondered how those other men could dismiss her as not worth their interest. It made him look forward to Thursday, when he would see her again.
Maddy texted them while they waited outside the theatre to say she was running late and to go on in to get good seats. She arrived just before the preview of the next week's film, breathless after running from the subway. Sam stood up and moved over one seat so she could sit between them, handing her a bottle of water.
"You're a lifesaver," she rasped, then laughed and squeezed his arm in thanks. "Literally, you are. I've barely had a moment to myself for the past few hours." She started to explain then the house lights dimmed. "I'll tell you after."
The preview, The Best Years of Our Lives, with Frederic March, Dana Andrews, Harold Russell and Myrna Loy, drew applause and many audible comments from the audience about it being very good. Then the opening of Casablanca started and Maddy watched it intently, unaware of the few moments when she touched the hands of the two men on either side of her. They looked at each other occasionally, grinning, at how she became so engrossed with the film. At the end, when she cried, Bucky gave her his handkerchief, which she accepted with a teary laugh.
"Well, at least I'm crying over something good this time," she murmured. "That is still one of my favourite films. I could watch that many more times."
She handed the handkerchief back to Bucky, who looked up at the blank screen. "Didn't think when I first saw this during the war that it would become a classic."
"You saw it then?" She looked at Bucky with wonder. "Where?"
"In Milwaukee when I was on a weekend's pass from basic," he answered, then thought a bit. "I took May Warner to it." He smiled in a way that Sam had never seen before. "I met her at a dance the night before. Hadn't thought of her in a long time."
As one, they stood up and made their way to the aisle, shuffling their way to the exit. Outside, the two men bracketed Maddy between them while they walked along the sidewalk. Suddenly, she linked her arms with theirs drawing amused looks from them.
"You seem to be in a happy mood," stated Sam. "What's going on?"
Grinning, she pulled them in closer. "Well, I got very good news today." They stopped at the corner, waiting for a break in the traffic so they could cross. She resumed after they reached the other side. "You know that I turned to dust, was declared dead, etc., and pretty much lost everything as it all went to my family, who didn't exactly use it wisely. My grandmother invited me to live with her and gave me money as I couldn't get a full time job. She also changed her will, leaving me more money to live on." She looked at Bucky. "That's why even though I work part-time I'm not worried about money. When I wasn't working at the library, I worked on writing a novel. It got published, sold reasonably well and today the movie rights went for a lot of money."
"That's great!" exclaimed Sam. "What's the title of the book?"
She named it making Sam whistle out loud. "You seriously wrote that? It's kind of spicy, isn't it?"
Shrugging, she looked up at them in turn. "Yes. I might be a children's librarian but I'm not a prude. I write under a pen name, wear a wig and much more makeup for my head shot that's used on the book. I look different enough that fans don't recognize me. I'm still going to work at the library but now I don't have to worry about paying rent for a long time."
"Congratulations," said Bucky. "I'll have to read your book sometime."
"I'll give you a copy," she said. "Now that my work life is set I just have to take care of my love life." She seemed to shrink a little as she walked between them. "I admit that I haven't had the best luck in that department. I met Jared a few months after I reappeared and thought we had something special but he was cheating on me for some time. He had the nerve to say I was so wrapped up in writing that he felt like he came second. At least Hunter was only a single date but they both treated me like I didn't matter and didn't deserve the tears I wasted on them."
"No, they didn't," answered Bucky, who got quiet for a moment as he chose his next words. "Do you want our help in finding a new boyfriend?"
Sam glanced at him, wondering why Bucky asked her that. A small nervous laugh from Maddy was followed by her stepping close to a building so they were out of the way. At first she fidgeted a little then she found it in her to answer, sounding both hesitant and hopeful.
"Actually, I was wondering if either of you were interested in dating me. You comforted me when I was hurting, made me laugh, and I had the best time with both of you. I'm pretty easy to get along with, as long as you don't try to interrupt me when I'm writing."
"So, you want us to decide which one of us gets to date you?" asked Bucky, with a serious face.
"It doesn't sound so good when you say it that way. Do either of you even like me like that?"
The two men shifted their feet and looked pointedly at each other. Neither said anything, although by the way Bucky looked at Sam, she wondered if she had set one against the other. It filled her with a sinking feeling. With a glance around them, the super soldier pulled her towards where an alley opened to the street so they could have more privacy.
"Don't get me wrong," said Sam, as he followed. "I think you're something else and I like you but only as a friend since you're not my type."
"I'm not your type?" She frowned, then opened her eyes wide. "Oh ... oh! I feel so stupid. When I said you two were on a date and you said you were friends but not good friends I took it to mean you weren't ... it doesn't matter. I'm so sorry."
She covered her face with her hands and turned away. Sam looked at Bucky for help, then put his own hand on her shoulder, and turned her back towards him.
"It's okay but it's not that. I'm kind of flattered you think I'm boyfriend material."
Still upset, she started to back away so she could leave but Bucky reached for her and pulled her back once more, holding her by her elbow.
"Where are you going?"
"Home. I've totally embarrassed myself."
"No, you haven't." He slid his hand from her elbow to her hand, lifting it to his lips and kissing it gently. "I should have said something sooner."
"Sooner?"
"I didn't want to rush you. I mean you only broke up with your boyfriend a few weeks ago, and you had that terrible date that really upset you. It seemed better to be friends first and then ask you out."
"You like me?"
"Yeah, I do. But you need to know that I'm not easy." Sam rolled his eyes and huffed. "No comments from the peanut gallery."
She ignored Sam and focused on Bucky. "Why aren't you easy?"
"I have issues. PTSD, a tendency to withdraw when things bother me. I wanted to punch Hunter in the face as soon as I met him, which isn't good, but I figured he had it coming. If we start seeing each other I'll probably be jealous of any guy who tries to flirt with you." He sighed audibly. "I'll do my best not to let it be a problem. I was going to insist that you let me pay for things since I'm old school, but I can work on that. Truthfully, I wasn't sure that I was enough for you."
"Enough for me? Have you ...." She looked at Sam, in disbelief. "Does he know?"
"No, he hasn't a clue." Bucky glared at him. "You really don't."
"What do you two mean?"
The tall dark-haired super soldier was pouting a little and she couldn't help but place her hand on his cheek to make him look at her with those gorgeous eyes of blue framed by thick dark lashes.
"In the pictures of you when you were young, you were cute in a boy next door kind of way. But now ...." She breathed out. "You're in another league. When you came to see me at the library, even the most feminist librarians who were close to retirement were suddenly wondering if they should put some lipstick on, and check their hair. The next day they all wanted to know how I knew you and if we were a couple."
"They were staring at me," he mumbled. "I don't like being stared at. It makes me feel like they only see what I was."
"Oh Bucky. You're a big hunk of sexy man, who might have problems, but is kind and decent inside. That's more than enough for me." Once more he looked away. "Remember the night when you found my keys and gave them to me? I cried at the end of that movie, not just because of it but because I was wondering when I would finally find someone to love me the way that I deserved. My grandmother said that one day I would find the right love although I might not recognize it at first. She said the same things Spencer Tracey said; that the kind of love worth having is the kind that goes on living and laughing and fighting for what's right. That's you, wrapped up in a body that is something else."
Sam's face broke into a broad grin as she spoke. "She's right, Buck. I might tease you but I don't see the man who tore my steering wheel out of my hands when he tried to kill me. Haven't seen him in a long time. You have your faults like any other man, but you're one of the best men I know."
Bucky saw how she looked at him at that moment. Her eyes shone with an emotion that he hadn't seen for a long time, then she smiled in a way that he wanted to see as much as possible for as long as he could. There really was only one thing left that he had to do. Pulling her closer he cupped her cheek with one hand and pressed his lips against hers. With one of her hands on his back and the other pressed against his chest, she eagerly accepted his kiss.
Sheepishly, Sam moved away from them, turning around to give them privacy. He almost laughed at how much this moment was like one of those old movies where the rich heiress gets her heart broken by someone she once trusted. Then she finds true love in the arms of the grumpy, regular guy who thinks he has nothing to offer; nothing except kindness, decency, and a love that would always be just for her. Glancing back at the pair, he grinned at how good they looked together. It was just like in the movies.
One Shots Masterlist
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Summary: Bucky becomes acquainted with a woman at an ongoing film festival of old movies. Through a series of moments and misunderstandings something develops between them.
Length: 6.1 K
Characters: Bucky Barnes, OFC (named, not described), Sam Wilson, minor OMC (named, not described)
Warnings and other notes: Reference to the Blip, low self-esteem, misunderstandings. Set after TFATWS but before CABNW.
🎞️ 🍿 🥤
It wasn't the first time Bucky saw her at the movie theatre. But it was the first time he saw her there by herself and she seemed bothered by something. The movie that Thursday evening was A Guy Named Joe, a 1943 movie about a World War II pilot who crashed and died before he made it to his new posting as a flight instructor back home. He left behind his sweetheart, also a pilot, who ferried aircraft for the Air Transport Auxiliary. Starring Spencer Tracey, Van Johnson, and Irene Dunne, it was the fifth film in an ongoing film festival made up of 1940s movies. Sam bought a pair of passes for the ten film series but couldn't make it that night as he had to be in Washington. It was his way of getting the super soldier out and about, instead of brooding alone in his apartment. Bucky had considered not going that night, but felt a little guilty about wasting money that someone else spent on him and changed his mind.
The woman had always gone with someone before. For the first three movies, spaced out over three weeks, she went with the same man. Bucky assumed he was her boyfriend based on how animated she seemed with him, then on the fourth week she was with a woman. Tonight she was on her own, sitting two rows ahead of Bucky and over by several seats. He could see her face from where he always sat, trying to focus on the movie, but it was obvious she wasn't happy. At the end of the film, she wiped her eyes with her fingers, in a way that made him sure she was crying, and not about the movie, which had been quite entertaining. Although the special effects weren't even close to what movies these days had, for the time period, Bucky was impressed even with all the propaganda aspects of it. He was pretty sure he had seen it on the base in England when he was a Howling Commando as there were parts that seemed familiar.
As the house lights in the theatre came on at the end of the film, and everyone stood up, gathering their empty popcorn bags and drink containers, he watched as she sat for several minutes before standing. She picked up her sweater, put it on, and slung her purse over her shoulder, then moved towards the aisle. Bucky's sensitive hearing heard the sound of keys falling but she kept going. Quickly, he made his way to her row and saw the keys on the floor near her seat. Picking them up, he hurried towards the exit, trying to spot her in the crowd of people ahead of him. It wasn't until he got out of the theatre that he saw her, about half a block down, just at the moment she reached into her pocket and realized her keys were gone. Turning back towards the theatre, she scanned the sidewalk, then the people close by, and that's when he approached her. Up close, in the glow of the neon light that spilled onto the sidewalk from the window of the bar beside her, she was beautiful.
"Miss, you dropped these in the theatre," he said, offering them. "They fell out of your sweater pocket."
"Oh, thank you so much," she answered, looking up at him as she took them, hesitating for a second when she saw his leather gloves. "For a moment I panicked when I realized they were gone. I thought someone took them."
"If I saw someone stealing them from you I would have stopped them." He looked past her briefly before making eye contact with her. "I've seen you at the other films for the festival. You're usually with someone. So am I, but my friend couldn't make it tonight."
Although she smiled, she stepped back. Something sad but subtle flashed across her face, then it was gone.
"Yeah, I bought two passes for my boyfriend and me but we broke up ten days ago. My girlfriend came with me last week but she's not really into old movies so I guess I'm on my own for the rest." She looked away then lifted the keys up. "Thank you for these. I should be going."
Sam would have poked him in the side at that moment and whispered that he should keep talking to her but Bucky could tell she just wanted to go. Nodding his head, he stepped aside, essentially releasing her, and watched as she walked away from him, immersing herself in the stream of people on the sidewalk. Shoving his gloved hands in his pocket, he headed back to the quiet loneliness of his small apartment.
The week passed like it always passed for Bucky; lunch at one of several small restaurants in his neighbourhood, endless window shopping, with the occasional browsing in a book store, followed by a take out meal eaten in front of the television, not really watching whatever passed for entertainment on the screen. Most of it was too fast, with fake laugh tracks, full of double entendres, or sexual innuendo that made Bucky cringe most of the time. It's not that he was a prude. Hell, if he had a steady girlfriend he liked to think that he remembered enough from when he was the other Bucky to keep her satisfied. To someone who was alone too much, it seemed that television was a poor replacement for actual human contact. But he often felt like he was on display when he was out; recognized by people who were either afraid of him, or put off by the "resting bitch face" that Sam told him he had.
The pair of them had hoped that what they did with the Flag Smashers had proved to the authorities that there was still a need for the Avengers but the interest just wasn't there. They were okay with Sam, offering him contract work to deal with the occasional skirmishes that rose up, managing to spring the extra funds for anyone he brought in to help ... as long as it wasn't Bucky. Apparently the former Winter Soldier was still seen as too much of a risk. At least, that's how he understood it when Sam would break it to him that he couldn't get approval to add him to those missions.
"I'll keep picking away at them," promised his friend. "You're too good of ...."
"Don't say asset," warned Bucky. "I don't ever want to be associated with that term again."
"I was going to say you're too good of a resource to leave sidelined. They'll get it if I have to beat it into their heads."
With Sam back from Washington after his latest attempt to get secure funding he texted about the next film in the series. Bucky responded that it was Anchors Aweigh with Gene Kelly and Frank Sinatra, a musical. Personally, he was ambivalent about going to it, but it had some musical numbers with the animated characters Tom and Jerry, and Bucky had always laughed at them back in the day, so they arranged to meet at the theatre.
As he waited on the street in front of the venue, he saw the woman approach, with a different man this time. By the way she was walking with the guy, whose demeanour bothered Bucky, it was probably a date. She tried to engage the man in conversation, but his replies seemed short and curt and his attention was on anything else but her. That changed a little when she saw Bucky and a small smile appeared on her face.
"Hi. Are you waiting for your friend?"
"Yeah," answered Bucky, quickly scanning the man with her. "He was supposed to be here by now. You found someone to use the other pass?"
"Yeah, this is my date," she replied. "Sorry, I didn't get your name last week. I'm Maddy and this is Hunter."
"Bucky," he said, sticking his hand out to her first, then her date. "You like old movies, Hunter?"
"Not particularly," replied the other man, briefly shaking hands. "But she already paid for it. If it's not my thing we'll probably end up at a sports bar or something."
That flash of sadness appeared on Maddy's face again, but she covered it up quickly, and reached for the door. Bucky beat her to it, holding the door for her with a smile, then stifled his urge to say something rude to Hunter. He definitely didn't like the guy and found it hard to resist the urge to punch him. With a smirk, the other man passed him. Through the glass door Bucky watched them get the passes scanned then Sam arrived, startling him.
"Sorry I'm a little late," he said. "You want popcorn?"
"Yeah."
They showed their passes then joined the lineup at the snack bar where Hunter and Maddy were already at the counter. He asked for a large popcorn, double butter and a large drink, while she ordered a small drink and a candy bar. When the amount was given, Bucky was ready to jump on the guy for his answer.
"You're paying, right? I'll get you next time."
Wordlessly, she took her bank card out and tapped it on the terminal. Hunter grabbed the popcorn and his drink turning away from the counter before the purchase was approved, making Sam notice and shake his head. With a grim acknowledgement of Bucky, she walked past him with her drink, following her date who was almost at the theatre doors. The two men watched him enter before her, reacting to that with grunts of disbelief.
"You know her?"
"She lost her keys last week. I picked them up and gave them to her, then we spoke briefly outside before you got here."
"He's not much of a date, is he?"
Bucky was saved from answering by Sam ordering popcorn for them to share as well as two bottles of water, whipping his wallet out immediately to pay.
Inside the theatre Bucky sought Maddy out, noticing several empty seats a few rows behind her and Hunter. Sam pointed to the same place and they sat, waiting as the theatre filled. They both noticed that Hunter didn't share, as he just shoved handful after handful of popcorn in his mouth, wiping his hand on his shirt. The house lights went down and the brief preview of the next week's classic film, Casablanca, generated some buzz as it was still a favourite. Then the preview ended and the opening credits came up for Anchors Aweigh. It was alright. Gene Kelly out danced everyone while Frank Sinatra irritated Bucky as much as he did in the 1940s.
Halfway through the movie, Hunter said something to Maddy and stood up, blocking the view of the screen while he took his time to get out, presumably to use the men's room. Considering he had ordered a large soft drink it was understandable he couldn't make it through the length of the movie. When he didn't come back in a reasonable time, Bucky focused on Maddy. She kept looking back for Hunter then pulled her phone out of her purse, reading a message on it and bowing her head in the darkened theatre. Watching her carefully, Bucky felt angry when he saw her wipe her eyes again, like she did the week before. Then she gathered her sweater and purse and apologetically made her way past the others in the same row.
"I'll be right back," he whispered to Sam, then stood up and went the other way as it was closer to the aisle. Hurrying to the lobby, he looked for Maddy, seeing her sweater disappear into the ladies' room just as the door closed. Approaching it, he waited outside but listened, sure he could hear someone crying inside.
"Asshole," he muttered under his breath.
Another woman came out, glancing at him, then shook her head, figuring he was the reason Maddy was in there. It was hard not to give in to the rage that was building inside, at how thoughtless Hunter had been. Then he heard the toilet flush and pushed himself away from the wall where he waited. A few moments later the door opened and Maddy stopped in the doorway when she saw him. Her eyes were puffy and red, and she looked away in embarrassment.
"Are you alright?" asked Bucky. She shook her head, pressing her lips together as if trying to stave off round two of crying. "Come sit with us." She shook her head again. "Okay, we can sit at the back where no one sees you."
"I'm not very good company."
"Well, I've been accused of that myself," he answered. “Once I would left a lady halfway through a date. It was wrong and I vowed never to do it again."
"What about your friend?"
He took his cell phone out and texted Sam, knowing that he always kept his phone on vibrate.
"I just told him that I'll be sitting at the back with you." Holding out his gloved hand, he waited for her to take it. "Come on."
Without looking directly at him, she placed her hand in his, letting him lead her back into the darkened theatre. They waited a moment to get their bearings, then slid into the third last row on the side where no one else was sitting. Bucky smiled at her, then returned his attention to the screen, while remaining fully aware of her beside him. The movie, longer than the one the previous week, still had another hour of run time but Maddy stayed there right until the end. As the house lights came on, Bucky stayed seated, waiting for Sam to appear in the aisle. He saw them as he came towards the exit, glancing over at her then stepped into the empty row ahead of them.
"Hey," he said, looking kindly at her. "I'm Sam."
"Maddy," she replied, looking at him carefully then she frowned slightly. "Sam Wilson, as in Captain America?"
"Yeah," he grinned. "That's me. Are you alright?"
She looked at Bucky, as if seeing him for the first time. "That means you're Bucky Barnes. You look different than you did on TV. You both do."
"In a good way, I hope," grinned Sam. "No offence but that guy you were with was bad news. He wasn't your boyfriend was he?"
"No, he wasn't. He's a gym bro that my friend set me up with to forget that my boyfriend cheated on me." She sighed. "I knew as soon as I met up with him that this wouldn't go well. I'm so stupid."
"No, don't say that," murmured Bucky. "You're not. Hunter was an idiot. You're better off without him."
The stream of people in the aisle thinned out a bit and Sam tilted his head slightly at Bucky, seeming to make a decision.
"Listen, we were going to head out for some food after the movie. Join us."
"I don't want to intrude," she said. "I mean this is your date, isn't it?"
They looked at each other and Sam started to laugh. "We're friends, not good friends," he explained.
"Occasional co-workers," dead-panned Bucky. "Can barely tolerate him most of the time."
That brought a smile to her face. Seeing it, the super soldier stood up and stepped to the aisle, as did Sam, waiting for her. Exhaling her breath, Maddy stood up, noticing that they let her go first and followed behind her. In the lobby, Sam stepped ahead to open the door to the outside, holding it for both her and Bucky. On the sidewalk, they placed themselves on either side of her.
"So, where are we going for food?" she asked.
"I don't know. Bucky, what are you feeling like?"
"Anything. You know me. I'll eat anything."
They walked past several places that were full, then paused at a pizza place, peering through the window to see if they were full. A man from inside came out and recognized Sam, inviting him in. Accepting, they sat and went through the menu, making their choices, ordering beer for Sam and Bucky, while Maddy chose a soft drink.
When their drinks came and they each took a sip she looked at the two men.
"So, you're into old movies?"
"Not exactly," answered Bucky. "I've seen a lot from the 1930s but not many from 1945 on. Just trying to catch up on what I missed."
It was a vague answer that seemed to make him uncomfortable as he pressed his lips together and looked away.
"I'll say it, if he won't," interrupted Sam. "He was captured in 1945 and didn't escape until 2014. Watching movies wasn't part of his training regimen. I've taken it on myself to get him up to speed but he's not the most cooperative guy."
"Sam." An imperceptible shake of the head was the only warning Bucky gave.
"I'm sorry I asked," said Maddy. "I guess seeing a 1940s musical is kind of trivial considering all you went through."
"I prefer that music," he admitted, then nodded at Sam. "He's trying to broaden my horizons in that as well." A shrug followed that comment. "I don't mind Motown and the Beatles are pretty good."
"Admit it, I'm a good friend for trying to get you up to speed." The other man gloated a little, then looked at Maddy. "So, what about you? What do you do for a living?"
"Nothing exciting like you two." She sipped her drink. "I'm a children's librarian at Brooklyn Public Library, the central library location. I enjoy it, although it's only part-time right now."
"Can I ask you something?"
Bucky glared at Sam who had apparently nudged him in the leg for asking that.
She closed her eyes then opened them. "He said I wasn't committed to him enough."
"Who said that?" asked Sam, confused. "The guy tonight?"
"No, the boyfriend I broke up with several weeks ago because he was cheating on me. That was his reason. The guy tonight texted me from the lobby that old movies weren't his thing and he didn't think we had anything in common."
"Not what I wanted to ask." She groaned and lowered her head to the table top before looking up at Bucky. His face softened. "Why do you like watching old movies?"
She sighed, wondering if he really wanted to know that. By the look on his face he did.
"They remind me of my childhood and spending the day with my grandma when I was sick because my parents couldn't take the time off from work. She loved the movies and we would watch Turner Classic Movies. I would be on the couch, with a blanket over my legs and a cushion behind me. She would make me eat jello and crackers, and drink ginger ale. It sucked being sick but I felt loved and like someone cared about me."
A satisfied smile appeared on his face. "That sounds nice. Is she still alive?"
"No, she died of cancer a few months after I came back from the Blip. Every time I hear about one of these old film festivals I buy the pass because the films remind me of the time I spent with her." She grimaced. "At least, it did until this one."
"Well, you know us now, so you don't have to go alone. Sam gets called to Washington sometimes but I'm always available for a movie ... with you." He smiled again then looked at Sam. "What's Turner Classic Movies and why haven't you told me about it?"
As Sam explained the pay television channel, their food came. Talking about the movies turned into raving about the pizza. It was hot, cheesy, and the thin crust had just enough crispness around the edges to make it well worth the effort. The banter between the two men entertained Maddy, who realized that beneath the teasing nature of Sam Wilson, and the snark emanating from Bucky, the two men were very good friends. It was obvious by the way they interacted with her and the restaurant staff that they were gentlemen. She appreciated the effort they made to include her in the conversation, by listening to her library stories while sharing tales about the people they knew and some of the crazy things they had done in their own lives before and after the Blip. The evening was one of the most enjoyable times she had experienced.
It was late when they came out of the pizza restaurant. The skies were dark with low hanging clouds and the air was humid enough for Maddy to check the weather app on her phone.
"I should get a ride share," she said, reading the forecast. "Looks like it's going to rain soon and I don't want to be stuck walking a couple of blocks from the subway in a downpour."
Sam took his cellphone out. "Let us book it for you."
"It's okay, I can afford it," she said, beating him to it. "I can text you both when I'm safe in my apartment, if you would give me your numbers. Just in case you want to meet for coffee or something."
The two men glanced at each other, then Sam unlocked his phone and handed it to her. After she returned it, he texted her, watching as she saved his contact information. With a mock scowl Bucky did the same, although he would never admit to anyone that he was thrilled about her asking for his number. Shortly after, her ride arrived. Sam opened the back door and helped her inside, while Bucky leaned through the open front passenger window.
"You don't leave until she's inside her door," he warned the man. "She's important to us."
Promising to honour that, the driver made sure Maddy had her seatbelt on before leaving. Sam and Bucky watched the car until it disappeared into the night before walking to the station together and getting on their respective trains. It started to rain just before they boarded.
During the week Sam was called out for another contract mission on behalf of the military, taking Joaquin Torres along. Bucky, taking a chance, texted Maddy to find out when she would be at the library and showed up when she was almost finished her shift. She was just wrapping up a story-time session for pre-school children, patiently listening to their comments about not just the story but things that popped up in their heads. After the kids and their parents finally dispersed, she came over to where he waited.
"Hi," she said warmly. "I hope you weren't too bored."
"Not bored at all. You were very entertaining."
They walked towards the staff room so she could clock out and pick up her belongings. As he waited for her, several of her work colleagues eyed him, which he tried to ignore as he leaned against the wall, checking to make sure his left hand was fully covered. The library was one of the places he felt comfortable in, although he usually went to a branch closer to where he lived, but this level of scrutiny made him feel too exposed. Joining her when she came out, they soon found themselves out in the warmth of the day. Lunch at a nearby bistro turned into several hours conversation and only ended when a reminder on Maddy's phone chimed and she excused herself to the ladies' room before she headed out for an appointment.
"You're going to Casablanca on Thursday, right?" she asked, on her return from the ladies' room.
"Yeah, and Sam is going to try to make it, if he can get his mission done by then."
He opened his wallet to pay, but was stopped when she put her hand on his. It wasn't an unwelcome touch, and he looked at her hand for a moment longer than necessary, before her words got through to him.
"I took care of it already."
"Maddy ...." He frowned. "I asked you out to lunch."
"I know but you're also on a limited income," she shrugged. "I insist."
"You only work part-time," he countered. "We could have least split the bill."
"Next time." She gathered her things and stood up. "I really have to go or I'll be late. See you Thursday."
She was gone before he could protest any further, hailing a passing taxi. As he walked to the subway, he thought of how much he enjoyed the time spent with her. Watching her interact with the small children in the library had shown a soft side of her, one that made him feel things he thought were buried too deep to ever come out again. The more he was with her, the more he wondered how those other men could dismiss her as not worth their interest. It made him look forward to Thursday, when he would see her again.
Maddy texted them while they waited outside the theatre to say she was running late and to go on in to get good seats. She arrived just before the preview of the next week's film, breathless after running from the subway. Sam stood up and moved over one seat so she could sit between them, handing her a bottle of water.
"You're a lifesaver," she rasped, then laughed and squeezed his arm in thanks. "Literally, you are. I've barely had a moment to myself for the past few hours." She started to explain then the house lights dimmed. "I'll tell you after."
The preview, The Best Years of Our Lives, with Frederic March, Dana Andrews, Harold Russell and Myrna Loy, drew applause and many audible comments from the audience about it being very good. Then the opening of Casablanca started and Maddy watched it intently, unaware of the few moments when she touched the hands of the two men on either side of her. They looked at each other occasionally, grinning, at how she became so engrossed with the film. At the end, when she cried, Bucky gave her his handkerchief, which she accepted with a teary laugh.
"Well, at least I'm crying over something good this time," she murmured. "That is still one of my favourite films. I could watch that many more times."
She handed the handkerchief back to Bucky, who looked up at the blank screen. "Didn't think when I first saw this during the war that it would become a classic."
"You saw it then?" She looked at Bucky with wonder. "Where?"
"In Milwaukee when I was on a weekend's pass from basic," he answered, then thought a bit. "I took May Warner to it." He smiled in a way that Sam had never seen before. "I met her at a dance the night before. Hadn't thought of her in a long time."
As one, they stood up and made their way to the aisle, shuffling their way to the exit. Outside, the two men bracketed Maddy between them while they walked along the sidewalk. Suddenly, she linked her arms with theirs drawing amused looks from them.
"You seem to be in a happy mood," stated Sam. "What's going on?"
Grinning, she pulled them in closer. "Well, I got very good news today." They stopped at the corner, waiting for a break in the traffic so they could cross. She resumed after they reached the other side. "You know that I turned to dust, was declared dead, etc., and pretty much lost everything as it all went to my family, who didn't exactly use it wisely. My grandmother invited me to live with her and gave me money as I couldn't get a full time job. She also changed her will, leaving me more money to live on." She looked at Bucky. "That's why even though I work part-time I'm not worried about money. When I wasn't working at the library, I worked on writing a novel. It got published, sold reasonably well and today the movie rights went for a lot of money."
"That's great!" exclaimed Sam. "What's the title of the book?"
She named it making Sam whistle out loud. "You seriously wrote that? It's kind of spicy, isn't it?"
Shrugging, she looked up at them in turn. "Yes. I might be a children's librarian but I'm not a prude. I write under a pen name, wear a wig and much more makeup for my head shot that's used on the book. I look different enough that fans don't recognize me. I'm still going to work at the library but now I don't have to worry about paying rent for a long time."
"Congratulations," said Bucky. "I'll have to read your book sometime."
"I'll give you a copy," she said. "Now that my work life is set I just have to take care of my love life." She seemed to shrink a little as she walked between them. "I admit that I haven't had the best luck in that department. I met Jared a few months after I reappeared and thought we had something special but he was cheating on me for some time. He had the nerve to say I was so wrapped up in writing that he felt like he came second. At least Hunter was only a single date but they both treated me like I didn't matter and didn't deserve the tears I wasted on them."
"No, they didn't," answered Bucky, who got quiet for a moment as he chose his next words. "Do you want our help in finding a new boyfriend?"
Sam glanced at him, wondering why Bucky asked her that. A small nervous laugh from Maddy was followed by her stepping close to a building so they were out of the way. At first she fidgeted a little then she found it in her to answer, sounding both hesitant and hopeful.
"Actually, I was wondering if either of you were interested in dating me. You comforted me when I was hurting, made me laugh, and I had the best time with both of you. I'm pretty easy to get along with, as long as you don't try to interrupt me when I'm writing."
"So, you want us to decide which one of us gets to date you?" asked Bucky, with a serious face.
"It doesn't sound so good when you say it that way. Do either of you even like me like that?"
The two men shifted their feet and looked pointedly at each other. Neither said anything, although by the way Bucky looked at Sam, she wondered if she had set one against the other. It filled her with a sinking feeling. With a glance around them, the super soldier pulled her towards where an alley opened to the street so they could have more privacy.
"Don't get me wrong," said Sam, as he followed. "I think you're something else and I like you but only as a friend since you're not my type."
"I'm not your type?" She frowned, then opened her eyes wide. "Oh ... oh! I feel so stupid. When I said you two were on a date and you said you were friends but not good friends I took it to mean you weren't ... it doesn't matter. I'm so sorry."
She covered her face with her hands and turned away. Sam looked at Bucky for help, then put his own hand on her shoulder, and turned her back towards him.
"It's okay but it's not that. I'm kind of flattered you think I'm boyfriend material."
Still upset, she started to back away so she could leave but Bucky reached for her and pulled her back once more, holding her by her elbow.
"Where are you going?"
"Home. I've totally embarrassed myself."
"No, you haven't." He slid his hand from her elbow to her hand, lifting it to his lips and kissing it gently. "I should have said something sooner."
"Sooner?"
"I didn't want to rush you. I mean you only broke up with your boyfriend a few weeks ago, and you had that terrible date that really upset you. It seemed better to be friends first and then ask you out."
"You like me?"
"Yeah, I do. But you need to know that I'm not easy." Sam rolled his eyes and huffed. "No comments from the peanut gallery."
She ignored Sam and focused on Bucky. "Why aren't you easy?"
"I have issues. PTSD, a tendency to withdraw when things bother me. I wanted to punch Hunter in the face as soon as I met him, which isn't good, but I figured he had it coming. If we start seeing each other I'll probably be jealous of any guy who tries to flirt with you." He sighed audibly. "I'll do my best not to let it be a problem. I was going to insist that you let me pay for things since I'm old school, but I can work on that. Truthfully, I wasn't sure that I was enough for you."
"Enough for me? Have you ...." She looked at Sam, in disbelief. "Does he know?"
"No, he hasn't a clue." Bucky glared at him. "You really don't."
"What do you two mean?"
The tall dark-haired super soldier was pouting a little and she couldn't help but place her hand on his cheek to make him look at her with those gorgeous eyes of blue framed by thick dark lashes.
"In the pictures of you when you were young, you were cute in a boy next door kind of way. But now ...." She breathed out. "You're in another league. When you came to see me at the library, even the most feminist librarians who were close to retirement were suddenly wondering if they should put some lipstick on, and check their hair. The next day they all wanted to know how I knew you and if we were a couple."
"They were staring at me," he mumbled. "I don't like being stared at. It makes me feel like they only see what I was."
"Oh Bucky. You're a big hunk of sexy man, who might have problems, but is kind and decent inside. That's more than enough for me." Once more he looked away. "Remember the night when you found my keys and gave them to me? I cried at the end of that movie, not just because of it but because I was wondering when I would finally find someone to love me the way that I deserved. My grandmother said that one day I would find the right love although I might not recognize it at first. She said the same things Spencer Tracey said; that the kind of love worth having is the kind that goes on living and laughing and fighting for what's right. That's you, wrapped up in a body that is something else."
Sam's face broke into a broad grin as she spoke. "She's right, Buck. I might tease you but I don't see the man who tore my steering wheel out of my hands when he tried to kill me. Haven't seen him in a long time. You have your faults like any other man, but you're one of the best men I know."
Bucky saw how she looked at him at that moment. Her eyes shone with an emotion that he hadn't seen for a long time, then she smiled in a way that he wanted to see as much as possible for as long as he could. There really was only one thing left that he had to do. Pulling her closer he cupped her cheek with one hand and pressed his lips against hers. With one of her hands on his back and the other pressed against his chest, she eagerly accepted his kiss.
Sheepishly, Sam moved away from them, turning around to give them privacy. He almost laughed at how much this moment was like one of those old movies where the rich heiress gets her heart broken by someone she once trusted. Then she finds true love in the arms of the grumpy, regular guy who thinks he has nothing to offer; nothing except kindness, decency, and a love that would always be just for her. Glancing back at the pair, he grinned at how good they looked together. It was just like in the movies.
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Summary: Bucky becomes acquainted with a woman at an ongoing film festival of old movies. Through a series of moments and misunderstandings something develops between them.
Length: 6.1 K
Characters: Bucky Barnes, OFC (named, not described), Sam Wilson, minor OMC (named, not described)
Warnings and other notes: Reference to the Blip, low self-esteem, misunderstandings. Set after TFATWS but before CABNW.
🎞️ 🍿 🥤
It wasn't the first time Bucky saw her at the movie theatre. But it was the first time he saw her there by herself and she seemed bothered by something. The movie that Thursday evening was A Guy Named Joe, a 1943 movie about a World War II pilot who crashed and died before he made it to his new posting as a flight instructor back home. He left behind his sweetheart, also a pilot, who ferried aircraft for the Air Transport Auxiliary. Starring Spencer Tracey, Van Johnson, and Irene Dunne, it was the fifth film in an ongoing film festival made up of 1940s movies. Sam bought a pair of passes for the ten film series but couldn't make it that night as he had to be in Washington. It was his way of getting the super soldier out and about, instead of brooding alone in his apartment. Bucky had considered not going that night, but felt a little guilty about wasting money that someone else spent on him and changed his mind.
The woman had always gone with someone before. For the first three movies, spaced out over three weeks, she went with the same man. Bucky assumed he was her boyfriend based on how animated she seemed with him, then on the fourth week she was with a woman. Tonight she was on her own, sitting two rows ahead of Bucky and over by several seats. He could see her face from where he always sat, trying to focus on the movie, but it was obvious she wasn't happy. At the end of the film, she wiped her eyes with her fingers, in a way that made him sure she was crying, and not about the movie, which had been quite entertaining. Although the special effects weren't even close to what movies these days had, for the time period, Bucky was impressed even with all the propaganda aspects of it. He was pretty sure he had seen it on the base in England when he was a Howling Commando as there were parts that seemed familiar.
As the house lights in the theatre came on at the end of the film, and everyone stood up, gathering their empty popcorn bags and drink containers, he watched as she sat for several minutes before standing. She picked up her sweater, put it on, and slung her purse over her shoulder, then moved towards the aisle. Bucky's sensitive hearing heard the sound of keys falling but she kept going. Quickly, he made his way to her row and saw the keys on the floor near her seat. Picking them up, he hurried towards the exit, trying to spot her in the crowd of people ahead of him. It wasn't until he got out of the theatre that he saw her, about half a block down, just at the moment she reached into her pocket and realized her keys were gone. Turning back towards the theatre, she scanned the sidewalk, then the people close by, and that's when he approached her. Up close, in the glow of the neon light that spilled onto the sidewalk from the window of the bar beside her, she was beautiful.
"Miss, you dropped these in the theatre," he said, offering them. "They fell out of your sweater pocket."
"Oh, thank you so much," she answered, looking up at him as she took them, hesitating for a second when she saw his leather gloves. "For a moment I panicked when I realized they were gone. I thought someone took them."
"If I saw someone stealing them from you I would have stopped them." He looked past her briefly before making eye contact with her. "I've seen you at the other films for the festival. You're usually with someone. So am I, but my friend couldn't make it tonight."
Although she smiled, she stepped back. Something sad but subtle flashed across her face, then it was gone.
"Yeah, I bought two passes for my boyfriend and me but we broke up ten days ago. My girlfriend came with me last week but she's not really into old movies so I guess I'm on my own for the rest." She looked away then lifted the keys up. "Thank you for these. I should be going."
Sam would have poked him in the side at that moment and whispered that he should keep talking to her but Bucky could tell she just wanted to go. Nodding his head, he stepped aside, essentially releasing her, and watched as she walked away from him, immersing herself in the stream of people on the sidewalk. Shoving his gloved hands in his pocket, he headed back to the quiet loneliness of his small apartment.
The week passed like it always passed for Bucky; lunch at one of several small restaurants in his neighbourhood, endless window shopping, with the occasional browsing in a book store, followed by a take out meal eaten in front of the television, not really watching whatever passed for entertainment on the screen. Most of it was too fast, with fake laugh tracks, full of double entendres, or sexual innuendo that made Bucky cringe most of the time. It's not that he was a prude. Hell, if he had a steady girlfriend he liked to think that he remembered enough from when he was the other Bucky to keep her satisfied. To someone who was alone too much, it seemed that television was a poor replacement for actual human contact. But he often felt like he was on display when he was out; recognized by people who were either afraid of him, or put off by the "resting bitch face" that Sam told him he had.
The pair of them had hoped that what they did with the Flag Smashers had proved to the authorities that there was still a need for the Avengers but the interest just wasn't there. They were okay with Sam, offering him contract work to deal with the occasional skirmishes that rose up, managing to spring the extra funds for anyone he brought in to help ... as long as it wasn't Bucky. Apparently the former Winter Soldier was still seen as too much of a risk. At least, that's how he understood it when Sam would break it to him that he couldn't get approval to add him to those missions.
"I'll keep picking away at them," promised his friend. "You're too good of ...."
"Don't say asset," warned Bucky. "I don't ever want to be associated with that term again."
"I was going to say you're too good of a resource to leave sidelined. They'll get it if I have to beat it into their heads."
With Sam back from Washington after his latest attempt to get secure funding he texted about the next film in the series. Bucky responded that it was Anchors Aweigh with Gene Kelly and Frank Sinatra, a musical. Personally, he was ambivalent about going to it, but it had some musical numbers with the animated characters Tom and Jerry, and Bucky had always laughed at them back in the day, so they arranged to meet at the theatre.
As he waited on the street in front of the venue, he saw the woman approach, with a different man this time. By the way she was walking with the guy, whose demeanour bothered Bucky, it was probably a date. She tried to engage the man in conversation, but his replies seemed short and curt and his attention was on anything else but her. That changed a little when she saw Bucky and a small smile appeared on her face.
"Hi. Are you waiting for your friend?"
"Yeah," answered Bucky, quickly scanning the man with her. "He was supposed to be here by now. You found someone to use the other pass?"
"Yeah, this is my date," she replied. "Sorry, I didn't get your name last week. I'm Maddy and this is Hunter."
"Bucky," he said, sticking his hand out to her first, then her date. "You like old movies, Hunter?"
"Not particularly," replied the other man, briefly shaking hands. "But she already paid for it. If it's not my thing we'll probably end up at a sports bar or something."
That flash of sadness appeared on Maddy's face again, but she covered it up quickly, and reached for the door. Bucky beat her to it, holding the door for her with a smile, then stifled his urge to say something rude to Hunter. He definitely didn't like the guy and found it hard to resist the urge to punch him. With a smirk, the other man passed him. Through the glass door Bucky watched them get the passes scanned then Sam arrived, startling him.
"Sorry I'm a little late," he said. "You want popcorn?"
"Yeah."
They showed their passes then joined the lineup at the snack bar where Hunter and Maddy were already at the counter. He asked for a large popcorn, double butter and a large drink, while she ordered a small drink and a candy bar. When the amount was given, Bucky was ready to jump on the guy for his answer.
"You're paying, right? I'll get you next time."
Wordlessly, she took her bank card out and tapped it on the terminal. Hunter grabbed the popcorn and his drink turning away from the counter before the purchase was approved, making Sam notice and shake his head. With a grim acknowledgement of Bucky, she walked past him with her drink, following her date who was almost at the theatre doors. The two men watched him enter before her, reacting to that with grunts of disbelief.
"You know her?"
"She lost her keys last week. I picked them up and gave them to her, then we spoke briefly outside before you got here."
"He's not much of a date, is he?"
Bucky was saved from answering by Sam ordering popcorn for them to share as well as two bottles of water, whipping his wallet out immediately to pay.
Inside the theatre Bucky sought Maddy out, noticing several empty seats a few rows behind her and Hunter. Sam pointed to the same place and they sat, waiting as the theatre filled. They both noticed that Hunter didn't share, as he just shoved handful after handful of popcorn in his mouth, wiping his hand on his shirt. The house lights went down and the brief preview of the next week's classic film, Casablanca, generated some buzz as it was still a favourite. Then the preview ended and the opening credits came up for Anchors Aweigh. It was alright. Gene Kelly out danced everyone while Frank Sinatra irritated Bucky as much as he did in the 1940s.
Halfway through the movie, Hunter said something to Maddy and stood up, blocking the view of the screen while he took his time to get out, presumably to use the men's room. Considering he had ordered a large soft drink it was understandable he couldn't make it through the length of the movie. When he didn't come back in a reasonable time, Bucky focused on Maddy. She kept looking back for Hunter then pulled her phone out of her purse, reading a message on it and bowing her head in the darkened theatre. Watching her carefully, Bucky felt angry when he saw her wipe her eyes again, like she did the week before. Then she gathered her sweater and purse and apologetically made her way past the others in the same row.
"I'll be right back," he whispered to Sam, then stood up and went the other way as it was closer to the aisle. Hurrying to the lobby, he looked for Maddy, seeing her sweater disappear into the ladies' room just as the door closed. Approaching it, he waited outside but listened, sure he could hear someone crying inside.
"Asshole," he muttered under his breath.
Another woman came out, glancing at him, then shook her head, figuring he was the reason Maddy was in there. It was hard not to give in to the rage that was building inside, at how thoughtless Hunter had been. Then he heard the toilet flush and pushed himself away from the wall where he waited. A few moments later the door opened and Maddy stopped in the doorway when she saw him. Her eyes were puffy and red, and she looked away in embarrassment.
"Are you alright?" asked Bucky. She shook her head, pressing her lips together as if trying to stave off round two of crying. "Come sit with us." She shook her head again. "Okay, we can sit at the back where no one sees you."
"I'm not very good company."
"Well, I've been accused of that myself," he answered. “Once I would left a lady halfway through a date. It was wrong and I vowed never to do it again."
"What about your friend?"
He took his cell phone out and texted Sam, knowing that he always kept his phone on vibrate.
"I just told him that I'll be sitting at the back with you." Holding out his gloved hand, he waited for her to take it. "Come on."
Without looking directly at him, she placed her hand in his, letting him lead her back into the darkened theatre. They waited a moment to get their bearings, then slid into the third last row on the side where no one else was sitting. Bucky smiled at her, then returned his attention to the screen, while remaining fully aware of her beside him. The movie, longer than the one the previous week, still had another hour of run time but Maddy stayed there right until the end. As the house lights came on, Bucky stayed seated, waiting for Sam to appear in the aisle. He saw them as he came towards the exit, glancing over at her then stepped into the empty row ahead of them.
"Hey," he said, looking kindly at her. "I'm Sam."
"Maddy," she replied, looking at him carefully then she frowned slightly. "Sam Wilson, as in Captain America?"
"Yeah," he grinned. "That's me. Are you alright?"
She looked at Bucky, as if seeing him for the first time. "That means you're Bucky Barnes. You look different than you did on TV. You both do."
"In a good way, I hope," grinned Sam. "No offence but that guy you were with was bad news. He wasn't your boyfriend was he?"
"No, he wasn't. He's a gym bro that my friend set me up with to forget that my boyfriend cheated on me." She sighed. "I knew as soon as I met up with him that this wouldn't go well. I'm so stupid."
"No, don't say that," murmured Bucky. "You're not. Hunter was an idiot. You're better off without him."
The stream of people in the aisle thinned out a bit and Sam tilted his head slightly at Bucky, seeming to make a decision.
"Listen, we were going to head out for some food after the movie. Join us."
"I don't want to intrude," she said. "I mean this is your date, isn't it?"
They looked at each other and Sam started to laugh. "We're friends, not good friends," he explained.
"Occasional co-workers," dead-panned Bucky. "Can barely tolerate him most of the time."
That brought a smile to her face. Seeing it, the super soldier stood up and stepped to the aisle, as did Sam, waiting for her. Exhaling her breath, Maddy stood up, noticing that they let her go first and followed behind her. In the lobby, Sam stepped ahead to open the door to the outside, holding it for both her and Bucky. On the sidewalk, they placed themselves on either side of her.
"So, where are we going for food?" she asked.
"I don't know. Bucky, what are you feeling like?"
"Anything. You know me. I'll eat anything."
They walked past several places that were full, then paused at a pizza place, peering through the window to see if they were full. A man from inside came out and recognized Sam, inviting him in. Accepting, they sat and went through the menu, making their choices, ordering beer for Sam and Bucky, while Maddy chose a soft drink.
When their drinks came and they each took a sip she looked at the two men.
"So, you're into old movies?"
"Not exactly," answered Bucky. "I've seen a lot from the 1930s but not many from 1945 on. Just trying to catch up on what I missed."
It was a vague answer that seemed to make him uncomfortable as he pressed his lips together and looked away.
"I'll say it, if he won't," interrupted Sam. "He was captured in 1945 and didn't escape until 2014. Watching movies wasn't part of his training regimen. I've taken it on myself to get him up to speed but he's not the most cooperative guy."
"Sam." An imperceptible shake of the head was the only warning Bucky gave.
"I'm sorry I asked," said Maddy. "I guess seeing a 1940s musical is kind of trivial considering all you went through."
"I prefer that music," he admitted, then nodded at Sam. "He's trying to broaden my horizons in that as well." A shrug followed that comment. "I don't mind Motown and the Beatles are pretty good."
"Admit it, I'm a good friend for trying to get you up to speed." The other man gloated a little, then looked at Maddy. "So, what about you? What do you do for a living?"
"Nothing exciting like you two." She sipped her drink. "I'm a children's librarian at Brooklyn Public Library, the central library location. I enjoy it, although it's only part-time right now."
"Can I ask you something?"
Bucky glared at Sam who had apparently nudged him in the leg for asking that.
She closed her eyes then opened them. "He said I wasn't committed to him enough."
"Who said that?" asked Sam, confused. "The guy tonight?"
"No, the boyfriend I broke up with several weeks ago because he was cheating on me. That was his reason. The guy tonight texted me from the lobby that old movies weren't his thing and he didn't think we had anything in common."
"Not what I wanted to ask." She groaned and lowered her head to the table top before looking up at Bucky. His face softened. "Why do you like watching old movies?"
She sighed, wondering if he really wanted to know that. By the look on his face he did.
"They remind me of my childhood and spending the day with my grandma when I was sick because my parents couldn't take the time off from work. She loved the movies and we would watch Turner Classic Movies. I would be on the couch, with a blanket over my legs and a cushion behind me. She would make me eat jello and crackers, and drink ginger ale. It sucked being sick but I felt loved and like someone cared about me."
A satisfied smile appeared on his face. "That sounds nice. Is she still alive?"
"No, she died of cancer a few months after I came back from the Blip. Every time I hear about one of these old film festivals I buy the pass because the films remind me of the time I spent with her." She grimaced. "At least, it did until this one."
"Well, you know us now, so you don't have to go alone. Sam gets called to Washington sometimes but I'm always available for a movie ... with you." He smiled again then looked at Sam. "What's Turner Classic Movies and why haven't you told me about it?"
As Sam explained the pay television channel, their food came. Talking about the movies turned into raving about the pizza. It was hot, cheesy, and the thin crust had just enough crispness around the edges to make it well worth the effort. The banter between the two men entertained Maddy, who realized that beneath the teasing nature of Sam Wilson, and the snark emanating from Bucky, the two men were very good friends. It was obvious by the way they interacted with her and the restaurant staff that they were gentlemen. She appreciated the effort they made to include her in the conversation, by listening to her library stories while sharing tales about the people they knew and some of the crazy things they had done in their own lives before and after the Blip. The evening was one of the most enjoyable times she had experienced.
It was late when they came out of the pizza restaurant. The skies were dark with low hanging clouds and the air was humid enough for Maddy to check the weather app on her phone.
"I should get a ride share," she said, reading the forecast. "Looks like it's going to rain soon and I don't want to be stuck walking a couple of blocks from the subway in a downpour."
Sam took his cellphone out. "Let us book it for you."
"It's okay, I can afford it," she said, beating him to it. "I can text you both when I'm safe in my apartment, if you would give me your numbers. Just in case you want to meet for coffee or something."
The two men glanced at each other, then Sam unlocked his phone and handed it to her. After she returned it, he texted her, watching as she saved his contact information. With a mock scowl Bucky did the same, although he would never admit to anyone that he was thrilled about her asking for his number. Shortly after, her ride arrived. Sam opened the back door and helped her inside, while Bucky leaned through the open front passenger window.
"You don't leave until she's inside her door," he warned the man. "She's important to us."
Promising to honour that, the driver made sure Maddy had her seatbelt on before leaving. Sam and Bucky watched the car until it disappeared into the night before walking to the station together and getting on their respective trains. It started to rain just before they boarded.
During the week Sam was called out for another contract mission on behalf of the military, taking Joaquin Torres along. Bucky, taking a chance, texted Maddy to find out when she would be at the library and showed up when she was almost finished her shift. She was just wrapping up a story-time session for pre-school children, patiently listening to their comments about not just the story but things that popped up in their heads. After the kids and their parents finally dispersed, she came over to where he waited.
"Hi," she said warmly. "I hope you weren't too bored."
"Not bored at all. You were very entertaining."
They walked towards the staff room so she could clock out and pick up her belongings. As he waited for her, several of her work colleagues eyed him, which he tried to ignore as he leaned against the wall, checking to make sure his left hand was fully covered. The library was one of the places he felt comfortable in, although he usually went to a branch closer to where he lived, but this level of scrutiny made him feel too exposed. Joining her when she came out, they soon found themselves out in the warmth of the day. Lunch at a nearby bistro turned into several hours conversation and only ended when a reminder on Maddy's phone chimed and she excused herself to the ladies' room before she headed out for an appointment.
"You're going to Casablanca on Thursday, right?" she asked, on her return from the ladies' room.
"Yeah, and Sam is going to try to make it, if he can get his mission done by then."
He opened his wallet to pay, but was stopped when she put her hand on his. It wasn't an unwelcome touch, and he looked at her hand for a moment longer than necessary, before her words got through to him.
"I took care of it already."
"Maddy ...." He frowned. "I asked you out to lunch."
"I know but you're also on a limited income," she shrugged. "I insist."
"You only work part-time," he countered. "We could have least split the bill."
"Next time." She gathered her things and stood up. "I really have to go or I'll be late. See you Thursday."
She was gone before he could protest any further, hailing a passing taxi. As he walked to the subway, he thought of how much he enjoyed the time spent with her. Watching her interact with the small children in the library had shown a soft side of her, one that made him feel things he thought were buried too deep to ever come out again. The more he was with her, the more he wondered how those other men could dismiss her as not worth their interest. It made him look forward to Thursday, when he would see her again.
Maddy texted them while they waited outside the theatre to say she was running late and to go on in to get good seats. She arrived just before the preview of the next week's film, breathless after running from the subway. Sam stood up and moved over one seat so she could sit between them, handing her a bottle of water.
"You're a lifesaver," she rasped, then laughed and squeezed his arm in thanks. "Literally, you are. I've barely had a moment to myself for the past few hours." She started to explain then the house lights dimmed. "I'll tell you after."
The preview, The Best Years of Our Lives, with Frederic March, Dana Andrews, Harold Russell and Myrna Loy, drew applause and many audible comments from the audience about it being very good. Then the opening of Casablanca started and Maddy watched it intently, unaware of the few moments when she touched the hands of the two men on either side of her. They looked at each other occasionally, grinning, at how she became so engrossed with the film. At the end, when she cried, Bucky gave her his handkerchief, which she accepted with a teary laugh.
"Well, at least I'm crying over something good this time," she murmured. "That is still one of my favourite films. I could watch that many more times."
She handed the handkerchief back to Bucky, who looked up at the blank screen. "Didn't think when I first saw this during the war that it would become a classic."
"You saw it then?" She looked at Bucky with wonder. "Where?"
"In Milwaukee when I was on a weekend's pass from basic," he answered, then thought a bit. "I took May Warner to it." He smiled in a way that Sam had never seen before. "I met her at a dance the night before. Hadn't thought of her in a long time."
As one, they stood up and made their way to the aisle, shuffling their way to the exit. Outside, the two men bracketed Maddy between them while they walked along the sidewalk. Suddenly, she linked her arms with theirs drawing amused looks from them.
"You seem to be in a happy mood," stated Sam. "What's going on?"
Grinning, she pulled them in closer. "Well, I got very good news today." They stopped at the corner, waiting for a break in the traffic so they could cross. She resumed after they reached the other side. "You know that I turned to dust, was declared dead, etc., and pretty much lost everything as it all went to my family, who didn't exactly use it wisely. My grandmother invited me to live with her and gave me money as I couldn't get a full time job. She also changed her will, leaving me more money to live on." She looked at Bucky. "That's why even though I work part-time I'm not worried about money. When I wasn't working at the library, I worked on writing a novel. It got published, sold reasonably well and today the movie rights went for a lot of money."
"That's great!" exclaimed Sam. "What's the title of the book?"
She named it making Sam whistle out loud. "You seriously wrote that? It's kind of spicy, isn't it?"
Shrugging, she looked up at them in turn. "Yes. I might be a children's librarian but I'm not a prude. I write under a pen name, wear a wig and much more makeup for my head shot that's used on the book. I look different enough that fans don't recognize me. I'm still going to work at the library but now I don't have to worry about paying rent for a long time."
"Congratulations," said Bucky. "I'll have to read your book sometime."
"I'll give you a copy," she said. "Now that my work life is set I just have to take care of my love life." She seemed to shrink a little as she walked between them. "I admit that I haven't had the best luck in that department. I met Jared a few months after I reappeared and thought we had something special but he was cheating on me for some time. He had the nerve to say I was so wrapped up in writing that he felt like he came second. At least Hunter was only a single date but they both treated me like I didn't matter and didn't deserve the tears I wasted on them."
"No, they didn't," answered Bucky, who got quiet for a moment as he chose his next words. "Do you want our help in finding a new boyfriend?"
Sam glanced at him, wondering why Bucky asked her that. A small nervous laugh from Maddy was followed by her stepping close to a building so they were out of the way. At first she fidgeted a little then she found it in her to answer, sounding both hesitant and hopeful.
"Actually, I was wondering if either of you were interested in dating me. You comforted me when I was hurting, made me laugh, and I had the best time with both of you. I'm pretty easy to get along with, as long as you don't try to interrupt me when I'm writing."
"So, you want us to decide which one of us gets to date you?" asked Bucky, with a serious face.
"It doesn't sound so good when you say it that way. Do either of you even like me like that?"
The two men shifted their feet and looked pointedly at each other. Neither said anything, although by the way Bucky looked at Sam, she wondered if she had set one against the other. It filled her with a sinking feeling. With a glance around them, the super soldier pulled her towards where an alley opened to the street so they could have more privacy.
"Don't get me wrong," said Sam, as he followed. "I think you're something else and I like you but only as a friend since you're not my type."
"I'm not your type?" She frowned, then opened her eyes wide. "Oh ... oh! I feel so stupid. When I said you two were on a date and you said you were friends but not good friends I took it to mean you weren't ... it doesn't matter. I'm so sorry."
She covered her face with her hands and turned away. Sam looked at Bucky for help, then put his own hand on her shoulder, and turned her back towards him.
"It's okay but it's not that. I'm kind of flattered you think I'm boyfriend material."
Still upset, she started to back away so she could leave but Bucky reached for her and pulled her back once more, holding her by her elbow.
"Where are you going?"
"Home. I've totally embarrassed myself."
"No, you haven't." He slid his hand from her elbow to her hand, lifting it to his lips and kissing it gently. "I should have said something sooner."
"Sooner?"
"I didn't want to rush you. I mean you only broke up with your boyfriend a few weeks ago, and you had that terrible date that really upset you. It seemed better to be friends first and then ask you out."
"You like me?"
"Yeah, I do. But you need to know that I'm not easy." Sam rolled his eyes and huffed. "No comments from the peanut gallery."
She ignored Sam and focused on Bucky. "Why aren't you easy?"
"I have issues. PTSD, a tendency to withdraw when things bother me. I wanted to punch Hunter in the face as soon as I met him, which isn't good, but I figured he had it coming. If we start seeing each other I'll probably be jealous of any guy who tries to flirt with you." He sighed audibly. "I'll do my best not to let it be a problem. I was going to insist that you let me pay for things since I'm old school, but I can work on that. Truthfully, I wasn't sure that I was enough for you."
"Enough for me? Have you ...." She looked at Sam, in disbelief. "Does he know?"
"No, he hasn't a clue." Bucky glared at him. "You really don't."
"What do you two mean?"
The tall dark-haired super soldier was pouting a little and she couldn't help but place her hand on his cheek to make him look at her with those gorgeous eyes of blue framed by thick dark lashes.
"In the pictures of you when you were young, you were cute in a boy next door kind of way. But now ...." She breathed out. "You're in another league. When you came to see me at the library, even the most feminist librarians who were close to retirement were suddenly wondering if they should put some lipstick on, and check their hair. The next day they all wanted to know how I knew you and if we were a couple."
"They were staring at me," he mumbled. "I don't like being stared at. It makes me feel like they only see what I was."
"Oh Bucky. You're a big hunk of sexy man, who might have problems, but is kind and decent inside. That's more than enough for me." Once more he looked away. "Remember the night when you found my keys and gave them to me? I cried at the end of that movie, not just because of it but because I was wondering when I would finally find someone to love me the way that I deserved. My grandmother said that one day I would find the right love although I might not recognize it at first. She said the same things Spencer Tracey said; that the kind of love worth having is the kind that goes on living and laughing and fighting for what's right. That's you, wrapped up in a body that is something else."
Sam's face broke into a broad grin as she spoke. "She's right, Buck. I might tease you but I don't see the man who tore my steering wheel out of my hands when he tried to kill me. Haven't seen him in a long time. You have your faults like any other man, but you're one of the best men I know."
Bucky saw how she looked at him at that moment. Her eyes shone with an emotion that he hadn't seen for a long time, then she smiled in a way that he wanted to see as much as possible for as long as he could. There really was only one thing left that he had to do. Pulling her closer he cupped her cheek with one hand and pressed his lips against hers. With one of her hands on his back and the other pressed against his chest, she eagerly accepted his kiss.
Sheepishly, Sam moved away from them, turning around to give them privacy. He almost laughed at how much this moment was like one of those old movies where the rich heiress gets her heart broken by someone she once trusted. Then she finds true love in the arms of the grumpy, regular guy who thinks he has nothing to offer; nothing except kindness, decency, and a love that would always be just for her. Glancing back at the pair, he grinned at how good they looked together. It was just like in the movies.
One Shots Masterlist
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Summary: Bucky becomes acquainted with a woman at an ongoing film festival of old movies. Through a series of moments and misunderstandings something develops between them.
Length: 6.1 K
Characters: Bucky Barnes, OFC (named, not described), Sam Wilson, minor OMC (named, not described)
Warnings and other notes: Reference to the Blip, low self-esteem, misunderstandings. Set after TFATWS but before CABNW.
🎞️ 🍿 🥤
It wasn't the first time Bucky saw her at the movie theatre. But it was the first time he saw her there by herself and she seemed bothered by something. The movie that Thursday evening was A Guy Named Joe, a 1943 movie about a World War II pilot who crashed and died before he made it to his new posting as a flight instructor back home. He left behind his sweetheart, also a pilot, who ferried aircraft for the Air Transport Auxiliary. Starring Spencer Tracey, Van Johnson, and Irene Dunne, it was the fifth film in an ongoing film festival made up of 1940s movies. Sam bought a pair of passes for the ten film series but couldn't make it that night as he had to be in Washington. It was his way of getting the super soldier out and about, instead of brooding alone in his apartment. Bucky had considered not going that night, but felt a little guilty about wasting money that someone else spent on him and changed his mind.
The woman had always gone with someone before. For the first three movies, spaced out over three weeks, she went with the same man. Bucky assumed he was her boyfriend based on how animated she seemed with him, then on the fourth week she was with a woman. Tonight she was on her own, sitting two rows ahead of Bucky and over by several seats. He could see her face from where he always sat, trying to focus on the movie, but it was obvious she wasn't happy. At the end of the film, she wiped her eyes with her fingers, in a way that made him sure she was crying, and not about the movie, which had been quite entertaining. Although the special effects weren't even close to what movies these days had, for the time period, Bucky was impressed even with all the propaganda aspects of it. He was pretty sure he had seen it on the base in England when he was a Howling Commando as there were parts that seemed familiar.
As the house lights in the theatre came on at the end of the film, and everyone stood up, gathering their empty popcorn bags and drink containers, he watched as she sat for several minutes before standing. She picked up her sweater, put it on, and slung her purse over her shoulder, then moved towards the aisle. Bucky's sensitive hearing heard the sound of keys falling but she kept going. Quickly, he made his way to her row and saw the keys on the floor near her seat. Picking them up, he hurried towards the exit, trying to spot her in the crowd of people ahead of him. It wasn't until he got out of the theatre that he saw her, about half a block down, just at the moment she reached into her pocket and realized her keys were gone. Turning back towards the theatre, she scanned the sidewalk, then the people close by, and that's when he approached her. Up close, in the glow of the neon light that spilled onto the sidewalk from the window of the bar beside her, she was beautiful.
"Miss, you dropped these in the theatre," he said, offering them. "They fell out of your sweater pocket."
"Oh, thank you so much," she answered, looking up at him as she took them, hesitating for a second when she saw his leather gloves. "For a moment I panicked when I realized they were gone. I thought someone took them."
"If I saw someone stealing them from you I would have stopped them." He looked past her briefly before making eye contact with her. "I've seen you at the other films for the festival. You're usually with someone. So am I, but my friend couldn't make it tonight."
Although she smiled, she stepped back. Something sad but subtle flashed across her face, then it was gone.
"Yeah, I bought two passes for my boyfriend and me but we broke up ten days ago. My girlfriend came with me last week but she's not really into old movies so I guess I'm on my own for the rest." She looked away then lifted the keys up. "Thank you for these. I should be going."
Sam would have poked him in the side at that moment and whispered that he should keep talking to her but Bucky could tell she just wanted to go. Nodding his head, he stepped aside, essentially releasing her, and watched as she walked away from him, immersing herself in the stream of people on the sidewalk. Shoving his gloved hands in his pocket, he headed back to the quiet loneliness of his small apartment.
The week passed like it always passed for Bucky; lunch at one of several small restaurants in his neighbourhood, endless window shopping, with the occasional browsing in a book store, followed by a take out meal eaten in front of the television, not really watching whatever passed for entertainment on the screen. Most of it was too fast, with fake laugh tracks, full of double entendres, or sexual innuendo that made Bucky cringe most of the time. It's not that he was a prude. Hell, if he had a steady girlfriend he liked to think that he remembered enough from when he was the other Bucky to keep her satisfied. To someone who was alone too much, it seemed that television was a poor replacement for actual human contact. But he often felt like he was on display when he was out; recognized by people who were either afraid of him, or put off by the "resting bitch face" that Sam told him he had.
The pair of them had hoped that what they did with the Flag Smashers had proved to the authorities that there was still a need for the Avengers but the interest just wasn't there. They were okay with Sam, offering him contract work to deal with the occasional skirmishes that rose up, managing to spring the extra funds for anyone he brought in to help ... as long as it wasn't Bucky. Apparently the former Winter Soldier was still seen as too much of a risk. At least, that's how he understood it when Sam would break it to him that he couldn't get approval to add him to those missions.
"I'll keep picking away at them," promised his friend. "You're too good of ...."
"Don't say asset," warned Bucky. "I don't ever want to be associated with that term again."
"I was going to say you're too good of a resource to leave sidelined. They'll get it if I have to beat it into their heads."
With Sam back from Washington after his latest attempt to get secure funding he texted about the next film in the series. Bucky responded that it was Anchors Aweigh with Gene Kelly and Frank Sinatra, a musical. Personally, he was ambivalent about going to it, but it had some musical numbers with the animated characters Tom and Jerry, and Bucky had always laughed at them back in the day, so they arranged to meet at the theatre.
As he waited on the street in front of the venue, he saw the woman approach, with a different man this time. By the way she was walking with the guy, whose demeanour bothered Bucky, it was probably a date. She tried to engage the man in conversation, but his replies seemed short and curt and his attention was on anything else but her. That changed a little when she saw Bucky and a small smile appeared on her face.
"Hi. Are you waiting for your friend?"
"Yeah," answered Bucky, quickly scanning the man with her. "He was supposed to be here by now. You found someone to use the other pass?"
"Yeah, this is my date," she replied. "Sorry, I didn't get your name last week. I'm Maddy and this is Hunter."
"Bucky," he said, sticking his hand out to her first, then her date. "You like old movies, Hunter?"
"Not particularly," replied the other man, briefly shaking hands. "But she already paid for it. If it's not my thing we'll probably end up at a sports bar or something."
That flash of sadness appeared on Maddy's face again, but she covered it up quickly, and reached for the door. Bucky beat her to it, holding the door for her with a smile, then stifled his urge to say something rude to Hunter. He definitely didn't like the guy and found it hard to resist the urge to punch him. With a smirk, the other man passed him. Through the glass door Bucky watched them get the passes scanned then Sam arrived, startling him.
"Sorry I'm a little late," he said. "You want popcorn?"
"Yeah."
They showed their passes then joined the lineup at the snack bar where Hunter and Maddy were already at the counter. He asked for a large popcorn, double butter and a large drink, while she ordered a small drink and a candy bar. When the amount was given, Bucky was ready to jump on the guy for his answer.
"You're paying, right? I'll get you next time."
Wordlessly, she took her bank card out and tapped it on the terminal. Hunter grabbed the popcorn and his drink turning away from the counter before the purchase was approved, making Sam notice and shake his head. With a grim acknowledgement of Bucky, she walked past him with her drink, following her date who was almost at the theatre doors. The two men watched him enter before her, reacting to that with grunts of disbelief.
"You know her?"
"She lost her keys last week. I picked them up and gave them to her, then we spoke briefly outside before you got here."
"He's not much of a date, is he?"
Bucky was saved from answering by Sam ordering popcorn for them to share as well as two bottles of water, whipping his wallet out immediately to pay.
Inside the theatre Bucky sought Maddy out, noticing several empty seats a few rows behind her and Hunter. Sam pointed to the same place and they sat, waiting as the theatre filled. They both noticed that Hunter didn't share, as he just shoved handful after handful of popcorn in his mouth, wiping his hand on his shirt. The house lights went down and the brief preview of the next week's classic film, Casablanca, generated some buzz as it was still a favourite. Then the preview ended and the opening credits came up for Anchors Aweigh. It was alright. Gene Kelly out danced everyone while Frank Sinatra irritated Bucky as much as he did in the 1940s.
Halfway through the movie, Hunter said something to Maddy and stood up, blocking the view of the screen while he took his time to get out, presumably to use the men's room. Considering he had ordered a large soft drink it was understandable he couldn't make it through the length of the movie. When he didn't come back in a reasonable time, Bucky focused on Maddy. She kept looking back for Hunter then pulled her phone out of her purse, reading a message on it and bowing her head in the darkened theatre. Watching her carefully, Bucky felt angry when he saw her wipe her eyes again, like she did the week before. Then she gathered her sweater and purse and apologetically made her way past the others in the same row.
"I'll be right back," he whispered to Sam, then stood up and went the other way as it was closer to the aisle. Hurrying to the lobby, he looked for Maddy, seeing her sweater disappear into the ladies' room just as the door closed. Approaching it, he waited outside but listened, sure he could hear someone crying inside.
"Asshole," he muttered under his breath.
Another woman came out, glancing at him, then shook her head, figuring he was the reason Maddy was in there. It was hard not to give in to the rage that was building inside, at how thoughtless Hunter had been. Then he heard the toilet flush and pushed himself away from the wall where he waited. A few moments later the door opened and Maddy stopped in the doorway when she saw him. Her eyes were puffy and red, and she looked away in embarrassment.
"Are you alright?" asked Bucky. She shook her head, pressing her lips together as if trying to stave off round two of crying. "Come sit with us." She shook her head again. "Okay, we can sit at the back where no one sees you."
"I'm not very good company."
"Well, I've been accused of that myself," he answered. “Once I would left a lady halfway through a date. It was wrong and I vowed never to do it again."
"What about your friend?"
He took his cell phone out and texted Sam, knowing that he always kept his phone on vibrate.
"I just told him that I'll be sitting at the back with you." Holding out his gloved hand, he waited for her to take it. "Come on."
Without looking directly at him, she placed her hand in his, letting him lead her back into the darkened theatre. They waited a moment to get their bearings, then slid into the third last row on the side where no one else was sitting. Bucky smiled at her, then returned his attention to the screen, while remaining fully aware of her beside him. The movie, longer than the one the previous week, still had another hour of run time but Maddy stayed there right until the end. As the house lights came on, Bucky stayed seated, waiting for Sam to appear in the aisle. He saw them as he came towards the exit, glancing over at her then stepped into the empty row ahead of them.
"Hey," he said, looking kindly at her. "I'm Sam."
"Maddy," she replied, looking at him carefully then she frowned slightly. "Sam Wilson, as in Captain America?"
"Yeah," he grinned. "That's me. Are you alright?"
She looked at Bucky, as if seeing him for the first time. "That means you're Bucky Barnes. You look different than you did on TV. You both do."
"In a good way, I hope," grinned Sam. "No offence but that guy you were with was bad news. He wasn't your boyfriend was he?"
"No, he wasn't. He's a gym bro that my friend set me up with to forget that my boyfriend cheated on me." She sighed. "I knew as soon as I met up with him that this wouldn't go well. I'm so stupid."
"No, don't say that," murmured Bucky. "You're not. Hunter was an idiot. You're better off without him."
The stream of people in the aisle thinned out a bit and Sam tilted his head slightly at Bucky, seeming to make a decision.
"Listen, we were going to head out for some food after the movie. Join us."
"I don't want to intrude," she said. "I mean this is your date, isn't it?"
They looked at each other and Sam started to laugh. "We're friends, not good friends," he explained.
"Occasional co-workers," dead-panned Bucky. "Can barely tolerate him most of the time."
That brought a smile to her face. Seeing it, the super soldier stood up and stepped to the aisle, as did Sam, waiting for her. Exhaling her breath, Maddy stood up, noticing that they let her go first and followed behind her. In the lobby, Sam stepped ahead to open the door to the outside, holding it for both her and Bucky. On the sidewalk, they placed themselves on either side of her.
"So, where are we going for food?" she asked.
"I don't know. Bucky, what are you feeling like?"
"Anything. You know me. I'll eat anything."
They walked past several places that were full, then paused at a pizza place, peering through the window to see if they were full. A man from inside came out and recognized Sam, inviting him in. Accepting, they sat and went through the menu, making their choices, ordering beer for Sam and Bucky, while Maddy chose a soft drink.
When their drinks came and they each took a sip she looked at the two men.
"So, you're into old movies?"
"Not exactly," answered Bucky. "I've seen a lot from the 1930s but not many from 1945 on. Just trying to catch up on what I missed."
It was a vague answer that seemed to make him uncomfortable as he pressed his lips together and looked away.
"I'll say it, if he won't," interrupted Sam. "He was captured in 1945 and didn't escape until 2014. Watching movies wasn't part of his training regimen. I've taken it on myself to get him up to speed but he's not the most cooperative guy."
"Sam." An imperceptible shake of the head was the only warning Bucky gave.
"I'm sorry I asked," said Maddy. "I guess seeing a 1940s musical is kind of trivial considering all you went through."
"I prefer that music," he admitted, then nodded at Sam. "He's trying to broaden my horizons in that as well." A shrug followed that comment. "I don't mind Motown and the Beatles are pretty good."
"Admit it, I'm a good friend for trying to get you up to speed." The other man gloated a little, then looked at Maddy. "So, what about you? What do you do for a living?"
"Nothing exciting like you two." She sipped her drink. "I'm a children's librarian at Brooklyn Public Library, the central library location. I enjoy it, although it's only part-time right now."
"Can I ask you something?"
Bucky glared at Sam who had apparently nudged him in the leg for asking that.
She closed her eyes then opened them. "He said I wasn't committed to him enough."
"Who said that?" asked Sam, confused. "The guy tonight?"
"No, the boyfriend I broke up with several weeks ago because he was cheating on me. That was his reason. The guy tonight texted me from the lobby that old movies weren't his thing and he didn't think we had anything in common."
"Not what I wanted to ask." She groaned and lowered her head to the table top before looking up at Bucky. His face softened. "Why do you like watching old movies?"
She sighed, wondering if he really wanted to know that. By the look on his face he did.
"They remind me of my childhood and spending the day with my grandma when I was sick because my parents couldn't take the time off from work. She loved the movies and we would watch Turner Classic Movies. I would be on the couch, with a blanket over my legs and a cushion behind me. She would make me eat jello and crackers, and drink ginger ale. It sucked being sick but I felt loved and like someone cared about me."
A satisfied smile appeared on his face. "That sounds nice. Is she still alive?"
"No, she died of cancer a few months after I came back from the Blip. Every time I hear about one of these old film festivals I buy the pass because the films remind me of the time I spent with her." She grimaced. "At least, it did until this one."
"Well, you know us now, so you don't have to go alone. Sam gets called to Washington sometimes but I'm always available for a movie ... with you." He smiled again then looked at Sam. "What's Turner Classic Movies and why haven't you told me about it?"
As Sam explained the pay television channel, their food came. Talking about the movies turned into raving about the pizza. It was hot, cheesy, and the thin crust had just enough crispness around the edges to make it well worth the effort. The banter between the two men entertained Maddy, who realized that beneath the teasing nature of Sam Wilson, and the snark emanating from Bucky, the two men were very good friends. It was obvious by the way they interacted with her and the restaurant staff that they were gentlemen. She appreciated the effort they made to include her in the conversation, by listening to her library stories while sharing tales about the people they knew and some of the crazy things they had done in their own lives before and after the Blip. The evening was one of the most enjoyable times she had experienced.
It was late when they came out of the pizza restaurant. The skies were dark with low hanging clouds and the air was humid enough for Maddy to check the weather app on her phone.
"I should get a ride share," she said, reading the forecast. "Looks like it's going to rain soon and I don't want to be stuck walking a couple of blocks from the subway in a downpour."
Sam took his cellphone out. "Let us book it for you."
"It's okay, I can afford it," she said, beating him to it. "I can text you both when I'm safe in my apartment, if you would give me your numbers. Just in case you want to meet for coffee or something."
The two men glanced at each other, then Sam unlocked his phone and handed it to her. After she returned it, he texted her, watching as she saved his contact information. With a mock scowl Bucky did the same, although he would never admit to anyone that he was thrilled about her asking for his number. Shortly after, her ride arrived. Sam opened the back door and helped her inside, while Bucky leaned through the open front passenger window.
"You don't leave until she's inside her door," he warned the man. "She's important to us."
Promising to honour that, the driver made sure Maddy had her seatbelt on before leaving. Sam and Bucky watched the car until it disappeared into the night before walking to the station together and getting on their respective trains. It started to rain just before they boarded.
During the week Sam was called out for another contract mission on behalf of the military, taking Joaquin Torres along. Bucky, taking a chance, texted Maddy to find out when she would be at the library and showed up when she was almost finished her shift. She was just wrapping up a story-time session for pre-school children, patiently listening to their comments about not just the story but things that popped up in their heads. After the kids and their parents finally dispersed, she came over to where he waited.
"Hi," she said warmly. "I hope you weren't too bored."
"Not bored at all. You were very entertaining."
They walked towards the staff room so she could clock out and pick up her belongings. As he waited for her, several of her work colleagues eyed him, which he tried to ignore as he leaned against the wall, checking to make sure his left hand was fully covered. The library was one of the places he felt comfortable in, although he usually went to a branch closer to where he lived, but this level of scrutiny made him feel too exposed. Joining her when she came out, they soon found themselves out in the warmth of the day. Lunch at a nearby bistro turned into several hours conversation and only ended when a reminder on Maddy's phone chimed and she excused herself to the ladies' room before she headed out for an appointment.
"You're going to Casablanca on Thursday, right?" she asked, on her return from the ladies' room.
"Yeah, and Sam is going to try to make it, if he can get his mission done by then."
He opened his wallet to pay, but was stopped when she put her hand on his. It wasn't an unwelcome touch, and he looked at her hand for a moment longer than necessary, before her words got through to him.
"I took care of it already."
"Maddy ...." He frowned. "I asked you out to lunch."
"I know but you're also on a limited income," she shrugged. "I insist."
"You only work part-time," he countered. "We could have least split the bill."
"Next time." She gathered her things and stood up. "I really have to go or I'll be late. See you Thursday."
She was gone before he could protest any further, hailing a passing taxi. As he walked to the subway, he thought of how much he enjoyed the time spent with her. Watching her interact with the small children in the library had shown a soft side of her, one that made him feel things he thought were buried too deep to ever come out again. The more he was with her, the more he wondered how those other men could dismiss her as not worth their interest. It made him look forward to Thursday, when he would see her again.
Maddy texted them while they waited outside the theatre to say she was running late and to go on in to get good seats. She arrived just before the preview of the next week's film, breathless after running from the subway. Sam stood up and moved over one seat so she could sit between them, handing her a bottle of water.
"You're a lifesaver," she rasped, then laughed and squeezed his arm in thanks. "Literally, you are. I've barely had a moment to myself for the past few hours." She started to explain then the house lights dimmed. "I'll tell you after."
The preview, The Best Years of Our Lives, with Frederic March, Dana Andrews, Harold Russell and Myrna Loy, drew applause and many audible comments from the audience about it being very good. Then the opening of Casablanca started and Maddy watched it intently, unaware of the few moments when she touched the hands of the two men on either side of her. They looked at each other occasionally, grinning, at how she became so engrossed with the film. At the end, when she cried, Bucky gave her his handkerchief, which she accepted with a teary laugh.
"Well, at least I'm crying over something good this time," she murmured. "That is still one of my favourite films. I could watch that many more times."
She handed the handkerchief back to Bucky, who looked up at the blank screen. "Didn't think when I first saw this during the war that it would become a classic."
"You saw it then?" She looked at Bucky with wonder. "Where?"
"In Milwaukee when I was on a weekend's pass from basic," he answered, then thought a bit. "I took May Warner to it." He smiled in a way that Sam had never seen before. "I met her at a dance the night before. Hadn't thought of her in a long time."
As one, they stood up and made their way to the aisle, shuffling their way to the exit. Outside, the two men bracketed Maddy between them while they walked along the sidewalk. Suddenly, she linked her arms with theirs drawing amused looks from them.
"You seem to be in a happy mood," stated Sam. "What's going on?"
Grinning, she pulled them in closer. "Well, I got very good news today." They stopped at the corner, waiting for a break in the traffic so they could cross. She resumed after they reached the other side. "You know that I turned to dust, was declared dead, etc., and pretty much lost everything as it all went to my family, who didn't exactly use it wisely. My grandmother invited me to live with her and gave me money as I couldn't get a full time job. She also changed her will, leaving me more money to live on." She looked at Bucky. "That's why even though I work part-time I'm not worried about money. When I wasn't working at the library, I worked on writing a novel. It got published, sold reasonably well and today the movie rights went for a lot of money."
"That's great!" exclaimed Sam. "What's the title of the book?"
She named it making Sam whistle out loud. "You seriously wrote that? It's kind of spicy, isn't it?"
Shrugging, she looked up at them in turn. "Yes. I might be a children's librarian but I'm not a prude. I write under a pen name, wear a wig and much more makeup for my head shot that's used on the book. I look different enough that fans don't recognize me. I'm still going to work at the library but now I don't have to worry about paying rent for a long time."
"Congratulations," said Bucky. "I'll have to read your book sometime."
"I'll give you a copy," she said. "Now that my work life is set I just have to take care of my love life." She seemed to shrink a little as she walked between them. "I admit that I haven't had the best luck in that department. I met Jared a few months after I reappeared and thought we had something special but he was cheating on me for some time. He had the nerve to say I was so wrapped up in writing that he felt like he came second. At least Hunter was only a single date but they both treated me like I didn't matter and didn't deserve the tears I wasted on them."
"No, they didn't," answered Bucky, who got quiet for a moment as he chose his next words. "Do you want our help in finding a new boyfriend?"
Sam glanced at him, wondering why Bucky asked her that. A small nervous laugh from Maddy was followed by her stepping close to a building so they were out of the way. At first she fidgeted a little then she found it in her to answer, sounding both hesitant and hopeful.
"Actually, I was wondering if either of you were interested in dating me. You comforted me when I was hurting, made me laugh, and I had the best time with both of you. I'm pretty easy to get along with, as long as you don't try to interrupt me when I'm writing."
"So, you want us to decide which one of us gets to date you?" asked Bucky, with a serious face.
"It doesn't sound so good when you say it that way. Do either of you even like me like that?"
The two men shifted their feet and looked pointedly at each other. Neither said anything, although by the way Bucky looked at Sam, she wondered if she had set one against the other. It filled her with a sinking feeling. With a glance around them, the super soldier pulled her towards where an alley opened to the street so they could have more privacy.
"Don't get me wrong," said Sam, as he followed. "I think you're something else and I like you but only as a friend since you're not my type."
"I'm not your type?" She frowned, then opened her eyes wide. "Oh ... oh! I feel so stupid. When I said you two were on a date and you said you were friends but not good friends I took it to mean you weren't ... it doesn't matter. I'm so sorry."
She covered her face with her hands and turned away. Sam looked at Bucky for help, then put his own hand on her shoulder, and turned her back towards him.
"It's okay but it's not that. I'm kind of flattered you think I'm boyfriend material."
Still upset, she started to back away so she could leave but Bucky reached for her and pulled her back once more, holding her by her elbow.
"Where are you going?"
"Home. I've totally embarrassed myself."
"No, you haven't." He slid his hand from her elbow to her hand, lifting it to his lips and kissing it gently. "I should have said something sooner."
"Sooner?"
"I didn't want to rush you. I mean you only broke up with your boyfriend a few weeks ago, and you had that terrible date that really upset you. It seemed better to be friends first and then ask you out."
"You like me?"
"Yeah, I do. But you need to know that I'm not easy." Sam rolled his eyes and huffed. "No comments from the peanut gallery."
She ignored Sam and focused on Bucky. "Why aren't you easy?"
"I have issues. PTSD, a tendency to withdraw when things bother me. I wanted to punch Hunter in the face as soon as I met him, which isn't good, but I figured he had it coming. If we start seeing each other I'll probably be jealous of any guy who tries to flirt with you." He sighed audibly. "I'll do my best not to let it be a problem. I was going to insist that you let me pay for things since I'm old school, but I can work on that. Truthfully, I wasn't sure that I was enough for you."
"Enough for me? Have you ...." She looked at Sam, in disbelief. "Does he know?"
"No, he hasn't a clue." Bucky glared at him. "You really don't."
"What do you two mean?"
The tall dark-haired super soldier was pouting a little and she couldn't help but place her hand on his cheek to make him look at her with those gorgeous eyes of blue framed by thick dark lashes.
"In the pictures of you when you were young, you were cute in a boy next door kind of way. But now ...." She breathed out. "You're in another league. When you came to see me at the library, even the most feminist librarians who were close to retirement were suddenly wondering if they should put some lipstick on, and check their hair. The next day they all wanted to know how I knew you and if we were a couple."
"They were staring at me," he mumbled. "I don't like being stared at. It makes me feel like they only see what I was."
"Oh Bucky. You're a big hunk of sexy man, who might have problems, but is kind and decent inside. That's more than enough for me." Once more he looked away. "Remember the night when you found my keys and gave them to me? I cried at the end of that movie, not just because of it but because I was wondering when I would finally find someone to love me the way that I deserved. My grandmother said that one day I would find the right love although I might not recognize it at first. She said the same things Spencer Tracey said; that the kind of love worth having is the kind that goes on living and laughing and fighting for what's right. That's you, wrapped up in a body that is something else."
Sam's face broke into a broad grin as she spoke. "She's right, Buck. I might tease you but I don't see the man who tore my steering wheel out of my hands when he tried to kill me. Haven't seen him in a long time. You have your faults like any other man, but you're one of the best men I know."
Bucky saw how she looked at him at that moment. Her eyes shone with an emotion that he hadn't seen for a long time, then she smiled in a way that he wanted to see as much as possible for as long as he could. There really was only one thing left that he had to do. Pulling her closer he cupped her cheek with one hand and pressed his lips against hers. With one of her hands on his back and the other pressed against his chest, she eagerly accepted his kiss.
Sheepishly, Sam moved away from them, turning around to give them privacy. He almost laughed at how much this moment was like one of those old movies where the rich heiress gets her heart broken by someone she once trusted. Then she finds true love in the arms of the grumpy, regular guy who thinks he has nothing to offer; nothing except kindness, decency, and a love that would always be just for her. Glancing back at the pair, he grinned at how good they looked together. It was just like in the movies.
One Shots Masterlist
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Summary: You're a hockey reporter who is diabetic. You're in the middle of interviewing the assistant captain, James 'Bucky' Barnes, and end up passing out where you are taken to the hospital from your low blood sugar. When you're released, the assistant captain obsesses over your health and breaks their self-imposed 'no dating colleagues in the league' rule because he can't seem to get you out of his head.
Content warning: Reader is diabetic (I am not diabetic myself but a lot of people I know are so this is my observation of the disease), star assistant hockey captain Bucky with a left arm tattoo sleeve who is obsessed over you, little hockey talk/terms, bff Scott, and FLUFF.
"Ready for the interview?" Your cameraman and sound engineer Scott asked.
"Ready as I'll ever be."
You adjusted the microphone and the lapels of the blazer you wore while steadying yourself. The head coach of the team, Tony Stark came out of the dressing room to speak with the media.
He coached your city's hockey team, The Shield and had just won their second game of the playoffs.
"Mr. Stark." You put your hand up to ask your question.
Tony glanced at the crowd of reporters and rolled his eyes. It was a well-known fact that he hated doing any kind of interview but was always forced to because of his position. Usually, the assistant coach covered for him, but Phil Coulson was still in the locker room, and everyone in the media room was getting restless.
"Ms. Y/ln." Tony pointed to you.
"Yes, thank you coach. Congratulations on your win tonight. How do you prepare the team going into tomorrow night's game knowing you're up two games to none and heading into an environment that is hard to play in?"
"Hydra isn't a team to be taken lightly. They attack the neutral zone strong, their defense is solid, and their fanbase are rabid. We're ready and looking forward to playing there." Tony smirked at you.
You nodded and let the press conference finish.
Once he left the podium, you waited to see what two players the team was going to send out. You adjusted your microphone and looked at Scott who gave you the thumbs up when you saw two players come out and sit at the table.
Steve Rogers, Captain, and James Barnes, assistant captain.
Of course it was them.
The only player in the entire league that made you more nervous than Steve Rogers was James 'Bucky' Barnes. James was always a relentless flirt whenever you interviewed him, having to keep yourself composed and neutral was the hardest part of your job. None of the other guys on the team and in the league for that matter made you stutter, fumble with your microphone, or blush more than him and it annoyed you.
You were a professional and having a star athlete make you nervous was a rookie move.
Seeing them both freshly showered with dripping hair and flushed faces only made your insides contract and face heat while they settled themselves in the chairs. You looked over your questions you wanted to ask and sighed before you raised your hand up.
"Yes?" James winked at you while Steve chuckled.
"How do you prepare for the next two games knowing you're going to be playing in a hostile environment?"
Steve shrugged and said, "We're prepared just fine. Their arena and fans don't bother us one bit."
Steve looked over at James who agreed making the people in the room chuckle.
Cocky bastards.
A few more questions were asked by other reporters when you raised your hand up again.
"Yes?" Steve asked.
"Question for James. You took a puck to the ankle in the 2nd with that nasty slapshot you blocked. Do you have any concerns with it for the next game?"
James glared at you for a brief second before he scoffed and said, "It's all good. Nothing to worry about."
You glanced at one of their trainers who was in the room and he rolled his eyes. You made a note to probe further once the press conference was done.
🏒🍫🍁
"Did you see Y/n sniffing around Parker, asking him about your ankle?" Steve asked Bucky who was putting some things away in his locker.
"No, I didn't."
Bucky side-eyed his friend and captain wondering why he was watching you. Of course you were asking about the puck he blocked, or rather his ankle accidentally getting in front of a slap shot from the point.
His ankle was currently swollen like a balloon and was showing off the colours of the rainbow in which he would need to ice the shit out of it when he got home. Peter and the training staff cautioned him not to mention the injury to anyone.
James smiled to himself.
You had been in the back of his thoughts all god damn season with your shiny hair, expressive eyes, and pretty smile, but you're off limits. He doesn't date reporters or anyone close to the hockey world as he likes to keep that separate from his private life, but you were proving to be a challenge for his self-imposed rule.
"Probably looking at digging up information to expose your weakness to Hydra. Be careful with that one." Steve cautioned making Bucky chuckle.
"It's not fucking espionage Steve, it's hockey. They know I got dinged in the ankle so they may go after me next game. It's payoff hockey." Bucky shrugged, putting a few things in a bag then locking his cubbie in his locker stall.
The team was flying out the following afternoon to Jersey, so he had made sure to give the equipment guys what they needed to pack before he left the arena.
🏒🍫🍁
"You're all packed then?" Scott asked while you lingered in the hallway of the arena.
"Looks like it."
You were looking over your itinerary for the away games you were going to be covering. You stood with a few other reporters and radio announcers while waiting for your bus to the airport. Reporters, media, and team employees usually travelled with the team and for the playoffs, there seemed to be a few more who were along for the trip. You looked at the time and saw you had about 10 minutes before the bus was scheduled to pull up.
"I'm just going to check my blood sugar."
You stepped aside and used your scanner on your arm. The beep of the app sounded, and you looked at the screen and saw it read 5.6.
"Thank god." You mumbled. You had been having a hard time with your sugar levels lately so seeing a normal readout for the first time in a while was a relief.
"Bus is here." Scott announced down the hall.
🏒🍫🍁
You boarded the plane and sat in the front where media had their assigned seats. You watched as the players boarded in their suits; some acknowledged you and some walked by. Even though the league has relaxed their dress code rules, the team still travels wearing suits, something they decided to do as a group.
You had to admit, seeing the players in their suits was the highlight whenever you travelled with them. An even better perk to the job that no one knows about was, once the players boarded the plane, most, if not all, stripped out of their suits and changed into comfy clothes in the middle of the aisle for the flight.
When you first started with the team, you had sat down in your seat, but you forgot your notebook in your carryon, so you got up to get your bag in the overhead bin. You stood and looked to the back of the plane where a few of the guys stood shirtless in the aisle and were changing.
You almost dropped your bag on Scott seeing their toned bare chests and underwear clad bottoms in the aisle. You immediately sat in your seat clutching your bag to your chest with a red face making Scott chuckle at your reaction. He thought it would be funny not to tell you they did that for your first away game.
Yeah, really hilarious Scott, but you're used to it now.
Now, you try not to sneak a peek when the assistant captain shucks off his white dress shirt exposing his tattooed left arm sleeve, then slowly folds it and places it in his bag while making eye contact you the entire time; something he does on every flight.
Like you told yourself countless times before, cocky bastard.
🏒🍫🍁
You watched the practise at the Hydra arena in Jersey with Tony Stark barking plays and line combinations out to the players while they skated. From your observation the team looks dialed in and ready as they skated their drills.
"Y/n?" Wanda Maximoff tapped you on the shoulder.
"Hi Wanda."
She stood next to you with her tablet and cell phone in hand. For being the teams head of PR and social media, she was remarkably always put together.
"I've secured you a one-on-one interview tomorrow after the game. We want it to be fun and playful for our socials"
"Oh? With whom?"
Inside, you were wishing it was ANYONE but James Barnes.
"Barnes."
Crap.
"Sounds good."
You usually liked doing one-non-one interviews with the players but anytime you interview James Barnes one-on-one, it was always challenging for you since he flirted relentlessly with you.
"I'll email you the list of questions later." She tapped on her iPad and then headed down the hall to the dressing room.
🏒🍫🍁
You sat in your hotel room and went over the questions for the one-on-one Wanda had sent. The questions were straight forward, mostly cute personal ones which should be an easy breeze for you to ask. You had a bunch of food in front of you, mainly some juice boxes and chocolate bars seeing as how your blood sugar levels were lower lately.
You had made reminders in your phone to check your blood sugar levels more often for the following day since it was a game day which usually means lots of on-camera reporting and filing reports before, during, and after the game.
Add in the new interview Wanda asked you to do, and it was going to be a long day.
🏒🍫🍁
"You got all your snacks in there?" Scott pointed to your tote bag.
"Think so. I feel good today, so I'm sure I'll be ok. I just want to get my readings back to normal."
Scott knew you were diabetic and was always looking out for you. You had set yourself up for your pre-game coach's interview.
You saw James Barnes saunter down the hall in his workout shorts, flip flops, and long-sleeved black compression top looking mischievous.
"Y/n." He nodded at you.
"Hello." You squeaked out.
He stopped and leaned into you and said, "I'm looking forward to our one-on-one after the game." He flashed a wink at you before disappearing into the players locker room.
Scott chuckled at the face you made because it looked like shock mixed with a grimace and maybe a blush.
"Let's just get this over with." You shook that interaction off, following Scott to the interview room.
🏒🍫🍁
You had jammed a granola bar in your mouth while you went over notes, players, lines, and the pre-interview requests but it wasn't enough.
"Here."
Scott handed you half a turkey sandwich he found in the dressing room, so you managed to eat a little of it.
"Thanks."
You pushed on and did a few sound checks, reports, repositioned the camera, and did a small interview with the radio team on what to expect for the third game in the series, and by the time you had finished, the game was starting.
"You good?" Scott looked over at you, and you shrugged, saying, "I feel fine. Your sandwich helped from earlier. I'll get something after the game."
You hadn't checked your sugar levels, but you felt fine, just as you replied to a few texts from the network and started your game notes.
🏒🍫🍁
"Overtime?" You groaned watching the players from both teams exit the ice surface.
You had almost filed your game report, but Hydra scored with 2 minutes left in regulation, tying it up. Your phone was dinging with new requests for small updates to the sports shows, so you were busy filming a few of those followed by a live interview.
"You, ok?" Scott asked when he heard you groan.
"I think so."
"Let me get you something to eat..."
"There you are." Came a booming voice from behind you.
"Nick." You bravely smiled at the network executive standing in front of you even though you were starting to feel a little funny. Nick Fury owned the network you worked for, so he was technically your boss' boss and anytime he came to a game, he always wanted to meet with the reporters and media.
"Hello sir."
"Y/n. How are things going on the road for you?"
You inwardly cringed at having to stop and chat with him. He was always nice to you, but you never wanted to make him angry; he knew too many people. Scott watched you take a few steps to the side and chat with him while he ordered some food for you.
🏒🍫🍁
"Did I miss anything?" You asked, heading back to your spot after your conversation with Nick Fury.
"Nah, you're just in time." Scott replied, looking around for the food he ordered.
You settled in for the puck drop but Scott got called away by the radio crew needing him to fix something, so you were left alone. The more you watched the overtime, the more you're convinced James is injured since he didn't look like himself on the ice. Every stride and push-off he did on his skates seemed to make him wince more.
Overtime lasted only 9 minutes when Clint Barton ended up knocking in a rebound from Bruce Banner's slapshot, ending the game. The bench cleared while you watched the team celebrate on the ice with boos reigning down from the agitated Hydra crowd.
"Thank god." You said, stomach grumbling while you made you way to the hallway for the post game interviews.
🏒🍫🍁
The team sent out OT goal scorer Clint Barton and Bruce Banner, for their post game interview so you managed to ask them some questions and got your answers you were looking for.
You looked at your watch and that's when it hit you.
"Crap."
"What?" Scott looked over.
"I should eat..."
"Shit, I forgot I ordered food for you, but they must not have dropped it off since I wasn't there..."
"There you are!" Wanda smiled wide.
"Shall we?"
She escorted you to an empty room that had two chairs, a camera, and lighting set up. You had wobbled a little on your feet when you walked with her, telling yourself you were unsteady for it being late.
"I figured we may as well start now." She grasped her iPad tight.
"Right...I was about to go and get..."
"Where do you want me, ladies?" James strolled into the room, looking fresh as a daisy from the grueling game he just played.
Your eyes focused on his ankle, but you didn't see him limping or hobbling. The trainers must be magicians.
"Right here." Wanda pointed to the chair.
"And Y/n will be there." She gestured to the other chair, smiling wide.
"We'll be over there." She waved to the corner of the room where a few more social media people were.
"Right then." You cleared your voice and fumbled with your notes.
You were starting to get a little shaky.
"You, ok?"
James watched you sit but there was something off about you.
"I'm fine James." You plastered on a smile.
"Call me Bucky." He winked at you.
Your vision started blurring but you quickly blinked and the feeling had passed.
Everyone was watching you and waiting for the interview that would quickly be edited so it could get out the following day to the team's social media pages.
You cleared your throat and settled yourself in. From the questions, you figured it would only take you about 30 minutes at the most to get through all of them so you could run and grab something to eat from the restaurant at the hotel lobby before you settled in your room for the night.
🏒🍫🍁
You were listening to James reminisce about some of his playing days on his junior team when you felt your heartbeat start to race and your vision was starting to blur.
Fuck no, not now, please God.
Your shakes were getting worse and the anxious feeling mixed with dizziness had come on strong. You gripped the arm rests of the chair you were on intensely while trying to keep it together.
"So, James...telllll meeeeeeeee..."
You swayed slightly then slumped over, dropping your notes as you went down with the darkness that surrounded your vision.
"Holy shit!" Bucky blurted out.
When he walked into the room, he noticed your face was pale and you were quieter than normal. He figured you were tired from working and the slight time change, but he never thought this would happen. When he first discovered you would be the one to interview him, he was excited because it meant he got to spend more time with you.
Even though he has a self-imposed rule of no dating media or people in the business, he somehow can't seem to get you out of his head. He watched you grimace as you smiled to Wanda before starting the interview and he couldn't help but feel a little defensive thinking you were not excited about interviewing him, but he quickly realised that wasn't the case at all.
Something was off about you.
Bucky looked over at you when he was finished and he saw you sway slightly, but then your face paled then you slumped over mid-question, collapsing in the chair you sat in, notes crashing to the floor. He quickly sprang into action, helping you down to the ground, careful not to injure you.
"What's wrong with her?"
Scott came running into the room and he froze.
"Shit!" He yelled, running towards you.
"Do you know what's wrong?"
"She's diabetic. Probably low blood sugar, which can be dangerous."
He looked you over. The team doctor came running in and assessed you with the paramedics following.
"She's diabetic?" Bucky asked, looking you over.
He held your hand in his while the doctor checked on you. When the doctor lifted your arm, Bucky saw the small round disc attached to the back of your arm. He'd never noticed it before. He looked at your face and he was worried.
You were so pale and you weren't responding well to anything since you were so out of it. The paramedics strapped you to the stretcher, and you were whisked away to the hospital.
"Go with her." Wanda waved to Scott who nodded.
He followed the stretcher, leaving Bucky in the room.
"I'm sure she'll be fine." Wanda patted his arm before she left to answer some calls.
"What hospital is she going to be taken to?" Bucky asked, but no one seemed to know.
He groaned and ran a hand over his face before he ran back to the locker room, grabbing his wallet.
"Where are you off to?" Steve asked.
Bucky replied with, "I'll text you when I get there." Then he was off, typing frantically on his phone for an Uber.
🏒🍫🍁
You smelled the sterile cleaning products and instantly knew you were at the hospital. Your eyes were heavy as you struggled to open them.
"Mmfph..."
You moved slightly but it felt like your limbs weighed triple what they did.
"...Low blood sugar"
"...Dangerous..."
"...Take better care..."
Deep voices and words came in spotty patches while your mind tried to clear itself and wake up.
You moved a little more and wanted to sit up, but your right hand was blocked. You had a hard time moving it.
"...waking up..."
Your eyes fluttered open and the bright sterile room you were in came into view.
"There she is." You heard Scott's voice from your left side.
"Scott?" You mumbled.
Your eyes focused on him while you took in the view. He sat on your left side, his eyes seeming to have dark circles around them.
"You gave us quite the scare."
You blinked a few times, clearing your vision but was squinting.
"Oh, let me turn these lights down a little."
He got up and headed to the door to where a light switch was and flicked it down.
"Thanks."
You smiled at your friend and co-worker. You heard a throat clear on your right, so you looked over and froze, eyes wide.
"Bucky?" You blurted out.
"I'll go and get the doctor..." Scott tapped your side then he left the room.
"Wh-what are..." You tried sitting up but felt weak.
Why is he here?
You looked down at your right hand that he held in his, fingers laced together.
"Shh...here, let me help..."
He let go of your hand and managed to help you sit up a little in the uncomfortable hospital bed you were laying in.
"Better?" He asked, making sure your pillow was fluffed.
"Y-yeah..."
You were still confused on why the assistant captain for the Shield was next to your hospital bed, holding your hand and watching you.
"You scared me." He softly said, moving a strand of your hair from your face.
"H-how...why are you here?"
"We still have to finish our interview silly..." He smiled wide.
"Interview?"
You thought back and that's when it hit you. You passed out when you were in the middle of asking him questions.
"Our interview? Now?"
You were confused and Bucky felt bad for teasing you.
"Just teasing you sweetheart. I wanted to make sure you were ok."
You glanced out the window and found the daylight creeping through the blinds.
"What time is it?"
Bucky looked around and shrugged.
"Around 7:30 am?"
"How long..."
"Hey, hey, shh...the doctor's coming back, he can explain everything."
"You sat at my side?"
"Had nothing else going on."
"Really? You guys won in OT, no bars to visit, or parties to go to and celebrate?"
Bucky shook his head no.
"Playoffs doll. We only have one thing in mind and that's to win the cup. No parties for us until this is all over. Team pact and everything." He stated proudly.
You knew Steve Rogers and him commanded the locker room and whatever they said, the team followed which is why they've been so successful this year.
"Then why are you here? You must be so tired..."
"Surprisingly, this chair is comfortable." He adjusted his large body in it which groaned under his weight making you chuckle.
Scott walked into the room followed by a nurse and the doctor.
"Hello."
"Oh, I should head out. I've got a morning radio session to help with." Scott looked over at you and smiled.
"Glad you're back with us. I'll see you later."
He patted your foot through the blanket and left the room, leaving you there with Bucky and the hospital staff.
"You gave us all quite the scare with that low sugar level."
The doctor seemed to scold you while he was typing on his laptop.
"We managed to correct it and adjust some things, but overall, you're going to be fine. I've already sent your chart to your own doctor, and you have an appointment with them when you get back, but other than that, you should be good to leave here this afternoon."
"Ok." You lamely replied, still confused why Bucky was at your side.
"Good thing your boyfriend was here with you to keep you company."
You looked at the door where Scott was, then over at Bucky who gave you a sheepish smile. "Right, boyfriend."
Bucky reached out and held your hand in his. His very big, calloused hand that felt somehow soft in yours.
"Don't worry, we won't tell anyone. I'll be by in a few to check on you again."
The doctor flashed you a wink then tapped his nose before he left the room with the nurse following.
"I didn't know you were diabetic." Bucky quietly said.
"Yeah, well...surprise." You waved your left hand up and wiggled it like 'jazz hands' making him chuckle.
"So, boyfriend?" You raised your eyebrows up at him.
"It was the only way I could stay with you."
"You could have just left..."
"Pfft, nope. You passed out in front of me so I felt it wouldn't be right if I left you alone."
"Oh, well, thanks."
Your face flushed at his little confession.
"Everyone's going to he happy you're ok."
"Everyone?"
"You gave us all quite the scare back at the arena..."
"Sorry..." You mumbled.
"It's all good." He lifted a shoulder and sighed. "Well, I should head to the hotel to catch a little rest. Coach Stark gave me the morning practise off today."
"Sorry you had to miss that..."
You felt bad Bucky was with you all night.
Bucky squeezed your hand and made sure to get you some water on your side table before he left.
"I'll see you later." He nodded at you then headed towards the door.
An orderly had walked into the room carrying a food tray then left it on your table.
"Make sure you eat that." Bucky pointed to the tray before he left the room, leaving you alone.
🏒🍫🍁
"So, he was with me the whole night?" You asked Scott who had picked you up from the hospital.
"Yup."
"Huh."
"He had gone to two other hospitals before he found where you were. When he came into the room, he was frantic, asking the doctors about your condition and why you were still asleep. Seemed really concerned."
You were shocked.
"He told the staff he was your boyfriend so he could stay with you all night. I was there, but then I left for a few hours. When I returned shortly before you woke, he was sitting at your bed, watching you."
Scott pulled into the covered entranceway to the lobby of the hotel and stopped, helping you out.
"You don't have anything scheduled tonight. Game four is tomorrow and Fury said you don't have to cover it if you aren't feeling it. He can have someone else fill in for you..."
"I'll be there Scott. I feel fine right now. All I want to do is rest a little more, but I should be good to go for the game tomorrow."
Scott looked you over but agreed. Your colour was back and you seemed more alert and focused. Your latest sugar levels were fine from the reading you did at the hospital before you were discharged.
"Ok. Schedule is still the same. The bus will pick us up in the morning. Text me later so I know you're still ok and if you feel funky, let me know and I can get you back to the hospital, so this doesn't happen again."
"I know, and thanks Scott."
"We've upped the food and snacks for you tomorrow so you should be ok."
"I appreciate it." You waved then headed to the bank of elevators to take you to your room. You wanted a shower, to eat something, then you were ready to flop into bed for the rest of the day.
You got into your room and dropped your purse at the door, locking it. You turned and froze, seeing a giant bouquet of red roses sitting on the desk in the room. You walked to it and smiled, smelling one when you took the card and read who it was from.
"Hope you're feeling better. From Fury and associates."
You looked at the bouquet then turned and was startled. On the bedside table was a giant gift basket full of food, snacks, fruit, crackers, and drinks.
"Woah." There was a card taped to the cellophane.
"This should be enough to get you through for tomorrow. Remember to take care of yourself. Bucky. PS – We still have to finish our interview."
You smiled and chuckled, examining the basket of food. Well, between this and the food Scott has ordered, you should be ready to go.
🏒🍫🍁
You worked game four without issue seeing the Shield win and sweep their playoff series with Hydra. Scott had almost over ordered on food and snacks for you and made sure you updated him on your sugar levels which were back to normal thanks to the time you made yourself. You scolded yourself for not taking care of your condition since you have lived with it most of your life.
You did your post game interviews and filed your reports as normal when you saw Bucky walk up to you in the hallway.
"Are you doing, ok?" He asked, his blue eyes searching your face.
"I'm fine, thank you. And thanks for the basket of food. I hope I can get it all packed in my bag to take home with me." You teased making him chuckle.
"Good, I'm glad."
He leaned in close when an equipment manager wheeled a large crate behind you. You were able to smell his cologne from his shower.
"Congrats on the win again." You said before you turned to head to the bus to take you to the terminal.
"See you on the plane." He called after you making you wave over your shoulder.
🏒🍫🍁
"Why aren't you sitting with me?" You asked Scott who was in the row behind you.
"Figured you could lie down and relax for the flight back."
"Scott, I'm fine, really. Maybe a little tired, but I'm feeling good, honestly."
You threw your carryon in the overhead bin. Just as you sat at the window seat, you saw the players board, excited from their win and to get home to their families. You buckled yourself in and waited until everyone was seated, grateful to Scott for giving you some extra room.
You had dreams of stretching out and reading your book, but those thoughts ended when you saw a large body standing in the aisle in your row.
"Bucky?"
"Hey." He said, placing his carryon on the seat next to you.
"What are you doing?"
Players always sit at the back of the plane and only come to the front if they have a question for the medical staff or coaches.
"Sitting here." He shrugged off his black suit jacket.
"But...but why?" You watched as he started slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt.
"Figured, I'd keep you company."
He shook off his shirt exposing his toned chest you always admired and grabbed a black t-shirt from his bag and slipped it on. Once he was set, he placed his bag in the overhead bin and flopped down next to you.
You turned and looked over your shoulder at Scott who hid a chuckle.
"Ok..."
Bucky settled in the seat and did up the seatbelt, leaning over you to look out the window. His shoulder brushed your arm when he did, making you feel his warm body heat.
"Should be a smooth flight." He said, then leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
"Right." You were still frozen in your seat gawking at Bucky, unsure what to say or do with this large hockey player in your space.
No one else seemed to care that he was sitting at the front of the plane, so you just went along with it. As the plane taxied down the runway, then got set for takeoff, Bucky reached for your left hand and held it, lacing your fingers together while the plane lifted off. You didn't dare say anything or move your hand seeing as how it was firmly in his for the entire flight. It felt like you were floating as he held your hand; like you were back in middle school with a crush.
Bucky made sure you were feeling fine, asking you every so often if you were ok, it was almost getting annoying, but you understood his concern. You would be worried if you witnessed someone pass out in front of you, then see them being whisked away to the hospital by an ambulance.
The plane landed and Bucky finally let go of your hand when it came to a stop. He got up and grabbed his carryon as everyone deplaned. You got your suitcase and had ordered an Uber when Bucky came up to you.
"So, you'll be ok then?"
"Yes, I will, thanks. I've got an Uber on the way, so I'll be fine."
You stuffed your phone in your pocket. He watched you carefully, almost like he was committing you to memory then he nodded, seeming to be ok with your answer.
🏒🍫🍁
You finally finished your interview with Bucky, the one where you passed out in the middle of it. Shield had made it into the finals playing against the Commandos and you had been busier than ever.
Your sugar levels were good, and you had no other issues apart from learning how to deal with an over-protective assistant captain who has been constantly checking in on you every chance he gets.
"Bucky, I'm fine, really." You insisted while going over your game notes.
The series was tied with game seven at the Shield arena, when you spied Bucky watching you from the doorway to the locker room like he didn't believe you.
"I'm fine." You assured him with a glare.
"Ok, sheesh, put the knife down doll." He teased, holding up his hands and slipped into the dressing room to prepare for their warm-ups.
"He's been obsessed with you lately." Scott teased.
"Ugh, I know. It's..."
"Cute? Romantic?"
"Crazy." You huffed making your hair flutter around your face.
🏒🍫🍁
"You ok over there?" Steve asked his assistant captain.
"All good."
"Hmm..."
"What?" Bucky glared at his friend.
"You've been obsessing over the reporter lately."
"Have not." Bucky snorted while Steve gave him a look.
"Since she was hospitalized."
"Just making sure she's ok."
Bucky put his shoulder pads on and did up his elbow ones.
"You know I have my rule..."
"Fuck your rule. You're head over heels for her, so why not ask her out?" Steve shook his head at his stubborn friend.
Bucky finished putting on his shin pads and pulled up his socks, all while thinking Steve may be right. He'd been low-key obsessing over you for a while and the hospital visit seemed to put everything in perspective for him.
He only had another year or two left to play out his contract and retire as a member of the Shield, so why not go for it? He's fairly certain you like him back, but would you accept a date with him if he asks you?
🏒🍫🍁
"Holy crap, they won the cup!"
Scott gave you a side hug while the team celebrated on the ice. The fans were going crazy in the stands with the win which only made it louder in the arena for you to concentrate. You watched the team celebrate, hug each other and laugh while the trophy was brought onto the ice.
You had your press pass out and showed it, allowing you on the ice with Scott following. You had gotten a lot of celebratory shots of everyone and a few on-ice interviews from the excited players, when you had Scott get into position while the trophy was going to be presented.
"There." You pointed to a spot next to another news crew who were setting up.
The players were handed their Championship hats while they skated around the ice. Some were holding onto each other, and others were waving to their friends and family in the stands when you felt a body stand behind you.
Scott had a small hand-held camera he had started, getting you candid shots the network's social media team could use.
You turned and smiled wide at Bucky who was sweaty and red from celebrating; his hat on slightly crooked.
You shoved the microphone at him and said, "How do you feel right now?" Which made him smile wide.
"I feel amazing doll." He winked at you.
You froze at his term of endearment he had been using on you lately, unsure how to respond.
"Right, well... We can't use that Scott..."
You looked over at Scott who gave you an eye roll.
"Why not?" Bucky asked.
"Well...I..." You couldn't think of anything to say while he watched you try to find words.
The team was getting into place as the commissioner was heading to the ice to present the team the trophy.
You stood with your microphone, unsure of what else to say when Bucky leaned down and planted a kiss on your lips.
A few catcalls and whoops were heard while his lips devoured yours. You dropped the microphone and grabbed his sweaty jersey, kissing him back.
You finally separated when you saw Steve Rogers whistle and smile wide at the two of you. He placed his arms around your shoulders and said, "Finally!" Before he let go to head to where the trophy was.
You snapped out of it and composed yourself, picking your microphone up from the ice.
"You can edit that out." You said to Scott who shook his head no.
"Actually, we're live." He mouthed making your face pale.
Frig.
"You ok?"
Bucky was suddenly focused on you, seeing you pale.
"Did you eat? How are your sugar levels?"
"I-I'm fine. We're live. That was live. Everyone saw." You mumbled, face turning red.
"Yeah they did." Bucky smiled wide, leaning over to kiss you again.
"Bucky!" You blushed.
"Anything you want to ask me?"
"Uh..."
Your mind was soup at what he did, but you quickly composed yourself.
"What are your plans with the offseason?"
That was the stupidest question to ask you chastised yourself. There would be no way any of the players would be thinking that at this moment in time.
He leaned back, a little caught off guard but he smiled.
"I plan on celebrating the whole night with my team and hopefully you at my side. Then, tomorrow, I plan on taking you out on a date, THEN I plan on volunteering my time with the Diabetes Association in the off-season."
He faced the camera as he spoke.
"Someone important to me has diabetes and I want to help in every way I can."
Your mouth was open in shock before he skated away with a wink and joined Steve where they accepted the trophy. The fans were cheering loud as they watched the team hoist the cup in the air with Scott giving you a thumbs up from behind the camera.
Have you seen those videos of people wearing clothes from the 40s/50s out in public??
What would Bucky do if he’s out one day and sees a fine thang walk by in 1940s attire?
Love you long time! You the bestestestest! 💕
OH MY GOD YESSSS!
-------
You don’t think much of it when you get dressed.
It’s just a dress. A pretty one, sure—soft fabric that cinches your waist just right, skirt flaring gently when you turn, the kind of silhouette that feels like it belongs to another time. You’d found it tucked into the back of a vintage shop, all delicate seams and careful tailoring, something that looks like it’s lived a life before you ever slipped it on.
You pair it with low heels, swipe on a little lipstick—nothing dramatic, just enough—and twist your hair up in a way you’d seen in an old photo once.
You feel… good.
That’s all it is.
---
Bucky notices you before he realizes why.
He’s halfway down the street, mind somewhere else entirely—groceries in one hand, the steady hum of the city grounding him in the present—when something pulls his attention like a thread snagging.
It’s not logical. Not at first.
Just a flicker of movement. The sway of fabric. The unmistakable silhouette of something—
Familiar.
His steps slow. His head turns. And then he sees you. But he doesn't just see you, he stares.
Because for one disorienting, breath-stealing second, the world tilts.
The city noise fades. The cars, the chatter, the glow of modern life—all of it dulls into the background as his brain scrambles to reconcile what he’s looking at.
You walk past him like you belong somewhere else entirely.
Like you stepped out of a memory he didn’t realize he still carried so vividly.
The dress. The shoes. The way your hair is pinned just so. Even the way you move—there’s a softness to it, a rhythm that feels pulled straight from the 40s, like something he used to see on crowded sidewalks in Brooklyn, back when everything smelled like cigarette smoke and fresh bread and possibility.
And you—
God, you.
You’re smiling to yourself about something, completely unaware of the effect you’re having, completely unaware that you’ve just knocked the air out of a hundred-year-old soldier.
Bucky stops walking entirely.
He just stands there.
Staring.
Because you look like something he lost.
And something he never thought he’d get to see again.
And also—very abruptly, very viscerally—like the most beautiful person he’s ever laid eyes on.
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath.
You don’t hear him.
You keep walking.
And that’s what snaps him out of it.
Because no—no, absolutely not, he is not letting you just walk away like that.
He pivots on his heel so fast he nearly drops his groceries.
“Hey—!”
It comes out rougher than he intends. Louder, too.
You turn.
And that’s it.
That’s the moment everything fully clicks into place, because now he can see your face clearly—modern, present, undeniably you—paired with something that looks like it belongs in his past.
It hits him right in the chest.
Hard.
You blink at him, a little surprised, but not alarmed.
“Yeah?”
Your voice is normal. Casual. Grounding.
It helps.
A little.
Bucky drags a hand through his hair, trying to pull himself together, but he’s still looking at you like you’ve just walked out of a time machine.
“Uh—” he starts, then stops.
Great. Smooth.
You tilt your head slightly, the motion making the soft curls near your temple shift just enough to make his brain short-circuit again.
He exhales sharply through his nose.
“Where’d you get that?” he blurts out.
Your eyes flick down to your dress, then back up to him, amused.
“This?” you ask. “Vintage shop.”
Of course.
Of course it is.
He lets out a quiet huff of disbelief, shaking his head a little like he’s trying to clear it.
“You—” he gestures vaguely at you, like words are failing him completely. “You look like—”
He cuts himself off.
Because what was he going to say?
You look like every girl I ever noticed in 1943?
You look like something I used to dream about and never thought I’d see again?
You look like you don’t belong here and I don’t know how to deal with that?
Instead, he settles on something far less coherent.
“—you look incredible,” he finishes, a little quieter.
You blink.
Then smile.
And it’s not a shy smile, not really—it’s pleased. Warm. A little teasing, even.
“Thank you,” you say. “That was a lot of buildup for a simple compliment.”
His mouth twitches despite himself.
“Yeah, well,” he mutters, shifting his weight. “Kinda threw me off.”
“I can tell.”
There’s something about the way you say it—llike you’re trying to figure him out—that makes him straighten slightly.
Because now he’s noticing other things.
The way you’re looking at him.
The way you haven’t brushed him off or hurried away.
The way you’re still here.
And suddenly, the disorientation gives way to something else entirely.
Interest.
“Didn’t mean to yell at you on the street,” he adds, a little more composed now. “Just—haven’t seen that in a while.”
You hum softly.
“I figured,” you say. “You looked like you’d seen a ghost.”
He lets out a quiet laugh, low and surprised.
“Felt like it,” he admits.
There’s a beat of silence before you shift your weight, the skirt of your dress swaying gently with the movement, and he definitely notices that.
“So,” you say, glancing at the bag in his hand. “Did I interrupt something, or—?”
He looks down at his groveries like he forgot they existed.
Then back at you.
And makes a decision.
Fast.
“Nah,” he says, easy. “Can wait.”
Your brow lifts slightly.
“Groceries can wait?”
“For this?” he shrugs. “Yeah.”
Your lips press together like you’re trying not to smile too much.
“Bold.”
“Honest,” he corrects.
Another pause.
Then, softer, more intetional—
“Walk with me?”
He doesn’t know why he asks it like that.
Doesn’t know why it feels important.
Maybe it’s the dress. Maybe it’s the way you feel like something out of time. Maybe it’s the fact that, for the first time in a long time, something from his past doesn’t hurt to look at.
You glance down the street, then back at him.
“Okay,” you say.
Just like that.
Simple.
Easy.
When you fall into step beside him, your shoulder brushing his for half a second, Bucky realizes something quietly, steadily, and with surprising certainty.
You don’t look like the past.
Not really.
You just make him feel like maybe it wasn’t all lost.
Summary: The weekend goes well for Bucky in New York and Peri in Washington. Just before he returns on Tuesday, they are both reminded that perception is in the eyes of others.
Length: 5.4 K
Characters: Peri, Bucky, her parents, George, Sadie, Guillermo, Evan.
Warnings and other notes: Calm before a storm.
<<Part 4
Since Bucky accepted Peri's offer of help to look after the children for the days he was in New York, her parents suggested getting familiarized with them by video calls. As the subsequent video visits between Diane and Parker Fairmont, and the children became more interactive it evolved to discussing plans about what they could do together on that weekend. The visits helped alleviate any anxieties felt by the children about trusting the older couple.
Aside from those video conversations, the regular routine in the house confirmed that Sadie, who had previously been content with her father's company was becoming insistent on being actively involved with the other adults in the house after George and Bucky left for the day. It was part of her personality as much as George's introversion was part of his. Boardgames with the bodyguard on house duty, or helping Oscar fix things around the house, kept her occupied. Chatting about almost everything with Rosa while she baked, became an exercise in patient multitasking for the older woman. It was obvious they all adored the little girl as she was included on a daily basis without overindulging the sweet child she truly was. Even Peri wasn't immune to Sadie's presence; keeping a cache of art supplies in her office, ready for the almost three and a half year old girl to draw works of art whenever she wanted.
Recalling how her own parents would display their children's masterpieces using an assortment of ready made mattes and frames, Peri placed the finished pieces created by Sadie and also George in the frames and displayed them throughout the main house, including in Rosa and Oscar's private quarters, her own suite, and in the guest house used by the security detail. Whenever Peri switched out one picture in a frame for a newer one, she let the children help with the process.
Now that George no longer felt disloyal to the memory of his mother by allowing himself to like Peri, he also opened up to her. Whether it was during their piano lessons or even when she was otherwise engaged, she always made the time for him, something that Bucky noticed and appreciated.
As the Veterans Day weekend came closer Peri, her parents, and the children arrived at a mutually agreed upon plan. With Bucky leaving on the Saturday morning, they would have the rest of Saturday and all day Sunday free to take in the National Children's Museum, and the National Museum of Natural History. Both institutions were known to have programming appropriate for young children, plus they were places the children were familiar with and loved. While Bucky was in the Veterans Day Parade on the Monday, they would call him by phone when they saw him on the live stream so he could wave at them from the event.
The arrival of Peri's parents at the house on the Friday started well as Sadie immediately took them by the hand to the piano, to show them how she could play music, insisting that Peri's mother, Diane, sit next to her. After receiving some praise, the little girl slid off the piano stool and went to her brother, who was sticking close to Bucky.
"Come, Georgie," she said, taking his hand. "Play Twinkle, Twinkle with me."
He looked up at his father. "It's okay. Go ahead, you can do it."
Diane gave up her place on the bench, while George approached, sitting on the left side to play the lower notes while Sadie was to play the melody. Peri kneeled down beside the pair, murmuring something encouraging to both of them. Looking back at her husband for his reaction, Diane noted how Bucky watched Peri and the children with the softest of expressions. Returning her attention to the piano, she watched and listened as the two played the simple tune, keeping a steady tempo, without any mistakes. After they finished, Sadie got off the bench and curtseyed, getting applause from everyone.
That performance and the reaction set the tone for the whole weekend, and Bucky was able to leave with a clear conscience, accompanied only by Evan, as Mike and Sully had the weekend off. Jacob dropped the rest of them off at the National Children's Museum, then ran some errands for the security team. Guillermo, dressed in casual clothing and without his weapon because of the museum's security screening policy, appeared fairly relaxed, although still alert. After several hours of keeping watch from exhibit to exhibit he sat with Peri on a bench beside an indoor play area while her parents stayed with the children. Reaching inside his jacket, he pulled out a package of Mentos, offering her one.
"Thanks," she said, popping it in her mouth, then grinned. "Strawberry."
He shrugged as he put one in his mouth and sucked on it for a few moments. "Mine's lime. Sadie's favourite is orange. This package has every flavour so it's kind of a fun way to distract her by getting her to guess what the next flavour is."
"She has us all wrapped around her little finger," chuckled Peri.
"Yes, she does and I don't a mind a bit," he replied. He was quiet for a moment. "I'm going to miss her and George." That was an unexpected comment and she turned to look inquiringly at him. "I've been accepted into the training program for the United States Marshals Service. Evan and Bucky recommended me for it. I start in the new year."
"Do the others know?" she asked. He nodded. "The kids?"
"No, Bucky will tell them when he's ready. They'll be okay. They already interviewed someone for my replacement. You're part of the household now and that will help the transition. You've made a difference."
"Yeah? You think so?"
He looked steadily at her. "I know so. Those kids love you. I know George was hostile at first but you handled it right by not trying to force it. He just needed time to trust his own feelings about you. After what they all went through, it's a good thing." He gestured to the play area. "Look at them with your parents. You can tell they're good parents and grandparents. You have the same energy with those kids."
They watched the interaction of the older couple with the children and for a moment, Peri felt such pride that her kids trusted them so quickly. It was several seconds before she realized she had thought of George and Sadie as hers. Swallowing hard, she expelled a quick breath, not saying anything to Guillermo but she looked back at the children, accepting that she did love them. It hadn't been difficult at all to feel motherly about them.
The need for a bathroom break signalled the end of the visit to the museum and Jacob was summoned to pick them up. Both children fell asleep on the car ride home, but only Sadie had to be carried up to her bedroom by Guillermo, leaving Peri to tuck the little girl into her bed for a nap. After dinner, bath time followed for both children. With them in their pyjamas, they spent the evening watching a movie, although neither child made it even halfway through.
Since Peri's parents were sleeping in her suite, she was in one of the bedrooms near the kids. Oscar locked the house up, confirming with Keith by intercom, and the house settled down into its usual quiet state. That lasted until just after 1 am, when Peri heard her bedroom door open and tiny feet padding across the floor to the bed. Lifting her head, she saw Sadie clutching her unicorn stuffy toy.
"I gots scared," she sniffled.
"Come on, sweetie," answered Peri, shifting back and lifting her covers.
The little girl readily climbed in and curled into Peri, with one warm little hand pressed against the skin of her upper chest. When morning came, she found George star-fished but face down under the covers on the other side of the bed. It was a little crowded but she had been through it before with her nieces and nephews when they were little. The fact these two trusted her enough to sleep with her meant a lot.
Bucky checked in with a video call during breakfast, showing the kids his award from the banquet the night before. He listened patiently as Sadie breathlessly told him everything about the children's museum, with George filling in the gaps with some of his own observations. Reminding them to be good for Peri, and to watch the parade the next morning, he asked her to continue the call in her office.
"How were they really?" he asked, once she closed the door. "Any nightmares?"
"Sadie woke me up to say she was scared but she fell right back asleep as soon as she joined me," she answered. "George was on the other side of me when I woke up but he was spread right out so I think he was alright."
"Flat on his stomach?" She nodded. He smirked. "He likely did have a bad dream but sleeping with you made him feel safe. You slept okay?"
"I've had better and worse," she admitted. "How was the banquet?"
He smiled slightly and looked to the side. "About as exciting as you would expect but that's okay. They had some Korean War vets in attendance who were surprisingly charitable towards me, considering I was fighting for the other side then." He clarified. "Not willingly or knowingly but it's a matter of public record. They seemed quite happy that I'm trying to make things right for veterans now. The kids behaved for your parents?"
"Gosh yeah." She hesitated. "Guillermo said they have good grandparent vibes. He told me about him leaving in the new year."
Bucky nodded. "Yeah. He applied before but didn't get through the initial interview process. I'm not one to hold anyone back so I wrote him a recommendation when Evan asked. He'll be an outstanding lawman."
They were quiet for several long moments as he seemed distracted by the view out of his apartment window. Although she tried not to stare, Peri noticed that the outside light coming onto his face made his eyes seem even more blue than usual.
"Well, I better get back out there," she said, unsure what to say otherwise. "We're going to the natural history museum today."
"Make sure you get some pictures of the kids in the butterfly pavilion," replied Bucky, looking directly into the camera once again. "They love that place. Raina took them often." He tilted his head slightly. "Try to take a few selfies of yourself with the kids. It's such a happy feeling to have something so beautiful choose to land on you. Whenever it happened to me I just wanted to laugh."
"I will. Have a good town hall meeting."
"I'll try," he said, then nodded at her before he ended the connection.
The natural history museum was a big hit, especially with the fossil, insect, and butterfly exhibits. The kids asked for pictures of the butterflies on everyone, giggling when Guillermo made googly eyes while a bright blue Morpho butterfly landed on top of his head. They spent much of the day there, and Peri sent Bucky some of the pictures. Gradually, Sadie became over stimulated and began to cry at everything. She wanted to walk, then to be carried only by Peri, and demanding to hold her hand in the large SUV when they decided to go home. They had to reposition the car seats so Peri could sit next to her. Within five minutes of starting the trip home, Sadie fell asleep and stayed asleep even as she was carried up to her room again.
"Could see that coming," said Parker, grinning. "She went all out. Once she has that nap, she'll be fine."
With no school on the Monday, George was allowed to stay up longer after dinner, playing Mario video games. He persuaded Diane and Parker to play against him and Jacob, while Peri and Rosa painted Sadie's nails with pink nail polish, and applied a temporary butterfly tattoo on her arm. Once her nails were dry, she went readily to bed, where she stayed until shortly after 1 am, climbing into Peri's bed as she clutched her unicorn stuffy toy. George was also there in the morning with both of them, sprawled on his stomach. As Peri lay quietly with the sleeping children on either side of her, she silently laughed at the sense of contentment she felt crowded into the bed with Sadie and George.
Since the Veterans Day parade was scheduled for early Monday afternoon, everyone spent the morning in various ways. The three bodyguards did a cleanup of their quarters. Parker took the opportunity to have a workout in the basement gym that had finally been fully set up, Oscar went outside to make sure all of the driveway and walkways were clear of ice and snow, while Rosa started a baking session, making conchas and churros, favourites of the children. Diane, with her Mexican heritage, was familiar with the sweet treats and took the opportunity to ask Rosa about other dishes, comparing the minor differences between how they each prepared them.
"Peri, you didn't tell me that you had a Mexican ancestor," said Rosa, when she joined them. "If I had known, I would have asked you to come to the Día de Los Muertos celebration at the museum in Arlington with us last Saturday. We could have taken the children."
"You're Mexican?" interrupted George, perched on a tall stool at the kitchen island.
"My great-grandmother was," explained Peri. "To be honest the Day of the Dead just slipped my mind."
That brought questions about the day from both kids, so she went to get the tablet, and looked it up for them, showing them pictures of parades in Mexico, the flowers, and all the different examples of sugar skulls. Her mother told them about visiting the cemetery to honour her grandmother, on several Día de Los Muertos while she was growing up. She regretted that she hadn't really passed it on to her children as well as she should have.
"As I got older I kind of left my heritage behind," she explained. "I tried to reconnect to it again when Peri was born by naming her after my grandmother, and learning Mexican cooking but there's so much more."
Rosa looked between the two women.
"Esperanza is my real name," stated Peri. She smiled at Sadie. "It means hope."
"I'm named after my grandma," exclaimed the little girl. "She lives in New Yawk. My name means princess."
"Do you get to see her often?" asked Peri. "I don't think she's come here since I started. Is she away on a long holiday?"
Sadie and George looked sad, not answering. Rosa stopped what she was doing and wiped her hands. She went into the refrigerator and took out some juice boxes, then placed some of the finished churros on a plate and took them and the children into the family room. Turning on the television, she put it on a children's program, turning it up loud. Then she gestured to Peri to come with her into the utility room. Diane followed. At first Rosa wouldn't speak with her present.
"I signed an NDA," stated the older woman. "Whatever you say will stay in here. Why hasn't their grandmother visited? If they were my grandchildren I would be here as much as I could."
"Mrs. Brody is not well." Rosa sighed as she shook her head. "Before Mrs. Barnes died, the children would visit Mrs. Brody in December once the government was off for the holidays, then over the summer the family lived in New York and spent time with her, while Mr. Bucky went back and forth from Washington. Mrs. Brody helped look after the children for a time after Mrs. Barnes died, but she had cancer and couldn't do it anymore. She visited once or twice but became too sick to travel. He took the children with him to live with the Avengers as they had childcare for their other staff but George became upset at the dangers the other Avengers were facing. He feels things too much and it makes him sick with worry, so they came back here. Our employer, a Senator who retired because of poor health, recommended we work for Mr. Bucky." She smiled slightly. "It wasn't hard to love those children, and Oscar and I were happy to look after them but Mrs. Brody told him to get a nanny so that he could get back to work as an Avenger. After the police arrested Miss DeForest, Mr. Bucky tried to do it all himself, as he didn't trust anyone to find the right person, until they found Peri." She smiled warmly at her. "I know that he and the children are much happier with you here."
"Bucky told the children she was away this weekend. That's not the truth, is it?"
Reluctantly, Rosa acknowledged it. "He did video calls for the children to speak with her but she went into a hospice over the summer just before you arrived. In September she decided she didn't want the children to see her this way so they just do regular phone calls now. I think they know she is dying."
"So they haven't seen their grandmother since before the summer?" asked Peri. Rosa nodded. "She's all alone in a hospice?"
"Her other daughter and son visit with her as they live there. Mr. Bucky was planning to take the children to New York at Thanksgiving for them to say goodbye. She isn't expected to live for long after Christmas."
There wasn't much more to be said. It was obvious that Bucky was trying his best to shield his children from his mother-in-law's impending death. It was understandable considering they were still grieving the death of his wife. Although she wished he had said something to her, it wasn't something she could hold against him. Returning to the kitchen, the making of the conchas continued, with Rosa and her mother finishing the task while the kids watched television. Once the baking was done, lunch was prepared and everyone was called when it was ready.
It was soon time to look up the parade on the website of one of the local New York television stations. Peri found it on the tablet and sent it to the television screen. The New York representatives were part of the beginning of the parade, so Peri dialled Bucky's phone number when they saw him while he rode in a World War II army jeep, identifying him as a veteran of that war. With a smile, he answered, then waved to the camera, asking if they could see him. Both kids answered back, making him laugh at his end. A reporter with a cameraman approached the car asking who he was talking and waving to.
"My children," he explained. "They're watching the parade online." He waved again. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Although Sadie eventually lost interest in the parade, playing with her crayons and a colouring book instead, George watched all of it with the others, seeming impressed by the number of soldiers in it, the marching bands, and the different types of military vehicles that were driven in the parade. The three bodyguards, all of them with military service experience, explained the different branches of the military to him, as well as what the different vehicles were used for.
"What's World War II?" he asked. "They said my dad was in that war."
Keith looked at the other two bodyguards, trying to find the words to explain, as they didn't know what Bucky had told him about his past. How do you tell a five and half year old boy that his father is well over a hundred and ten years old and was once a prisoner of war who was used as a weapon?
"Have you ever asked your dad about it?" asked Parker, gently, picking up on the others' reluctance to answer. George shook his head. "Well, some things are meant to be discussed with your dad. I think you should ask him after he gets back."
"But I want to know now."
"I understand that but your dad is the one who wants to tell you. It's his story to tell, not ours."
George frowned but accepted the answer and didn't bring it up for the rest of the day. He did have a nightmare that night, one that woke Peri with his cries and sent her into his room. After sending him to the bathroom to relieve himself and wash his face, she tucked him back in, and sat with him for a while. She came back to her room to find Sadie already in her bed, pretending to be asleep. George showed up five minutes later, saying he couldn't sleep. Patting the other side of the covers, she opened them, saying nothing as he crawled in. Both children clung to her, affecting the quality of her sleep for the rest of the night.
The following morning had some tears, as George said goodbye to Peri's parents at the house before he was driven to school by Keith. Although the five year old was stoic after he cried, he did ask when they were coming back. Parker told him that he hoped it was soon, receiving a hug for that. A short time later, it was time for the couple to go and Sadie cried at the door, while Jacob loaded up their luggage in a smaller vehicle, since he was dropping them off at the airport and coming straight back. Diane lowered herself to Sadie's eye level, brushing her caramel coloured curls out of her face.
"I'll tell you what. If you ask Peri nicely, I'm sure she'll make more video calls so we can talk. Maybe, just maybe, you can come visit us in Scottsdale when it's warmer and we can have a pool party with all of our grandchildren."
"Really?" Peri nodded. Sadie looked back at Diane, with a hopeful face. "Are you my grandma now?"
"Well, I'm not your real grandma but if you want to call me that, I'll be very happy because I think you and your brother are amazing." After hugging the little girl, as well as Rosa and Oscar, they went out to the car with Peri. Jacob said he forgot something and went back inside, giving them privacy.
While embracing her daughter, Diane voiced a question that had to be asked. "Are you okay here?"
Pulling back, Peri looked at her parents, puzzled. "What do you mean?"
Parker put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. "You care about those two kids."
"Of course I do. They're sweet kids. We all care about them."
Her mother breathed out. "They love you but you work for their dad. You're not their family."
Shaking her head, Peri frowned. "What are you getting at? You just told Sadie it was okay to call you Grandma."
"I know," she smiled, then sighed. "I couldn't say no to her, not after what we learned. Those two kids need family, like their grandma, but with her sick they've given their love to the others and now they're giving it to you. My concern is that they may see you as their substitute mother, but by being Bucky's employee that can cause all sorts of problems for you, for him, and especially for those kids."
"I'm not in love with Bucky, if that's what you're worried about," stated Peri. "This weekend was a favour only because he wasn't ready to hire a nanny. He's been very professional in his interactions with me, always a gentleman. I don't understand ...."
Guillermo's words from Saturday came back to her; how the kids loved and trusted her, that she had good parent energy. Were the others seeing something more between her, Bucky, and the kids? Had allowing herself to love those two children opened her and Bucky to accusations of inappropriate behaviour?
"Peri?" Her dad said her name again before she looked at him. "I believe you, but as a representative of the government, Bucky is held to a higher standard than the rest of us. I hate to tell you not to be so affectionate with the kids but if you don't have a firm boundary with them it could expose you both to rumours which could lead to an investigation by the Ethics Committee." There must have been something in the way Peri looked at him because he smiled gently at her. "Look, no rules have been broken, no hearts have been tampered with, and I trust you both to be professional in your dealings. Just ... be careful how much affection you show the kids. They might believe that you are more than an employee."
She nodded and hung her head a little then hugged both of them before they got into the car. As she watched Jacob drive down to the gate, she thought over the implications of what her father said. He was right. She was becoming too affectionate with the children. If she was being honest with herself, she had also found herself watching Bucky when she thought he didn't notice. He was a very handsome man, and kind in ways that touched her deeply. Although she wasn't in love with him, she wasn't indifferent to the possibility. When he returned later that afternoon, she would ask for a meeting and make sure he understood this weekend wasn't meant to be repeated. If there were other times he had to leave for an extended period, he needed to hire an experienced nanny to take on the childcare duties. She had to be firm, to protect herself, and him, as well as the children. That would be the professional thing to do.
As she turned to go back inside, she felt a small twinge in her chest and pressed her hand against it, wondering if it was heartburn or something similar. Ignoring it, she went straight to her office, knowing there was email correspondence waiting for her to go through and print out the most timely ones so Bucky could read the hard copy once he returned and write out his answers. Time to do her job, her real job.
Several hours later, LaGuardia Airport
Bucky sat in the business class lounge with Evan, waiting for their flight to Washington. Because he stayed to take part in the citizenship ceremony that morning, he didn't return to Washington on Monday night with the other representatives. He had to make his own flight arrangements, and with their physical size business class afforded the most leg room. He flicked through the pictures of the children that Peri sent him throughout the weekend, smiling at how much fun they seemed to have.
When he went to visit his mother-in-law at the hospice on Sunday evening, she had been aware enough to look at them with him. The photo of Peri with her arms around the kids as they all laughed at the butterflies that were fluttering in front of them, had prompted her to comment that they seemed happy with her. She suggested that he ask her out if she was a nice person. At the time he had informed her that they couldn't be involved, as Peri was his employee. Still, he couldn't deny that he found himself thinking about her often. What was surprising to him was that he didn't feel guilty about it.
"Looks like they had fun," said Evan, scrolling through his own phone. "Guillermo sent me some pictures. He said he enjoyed taking point at the museums." They were both quiet for a moment, then he found another image and glanced around. "It's really not my place but are you involved with Peri?"
"What do you mean?" Bucky frowned. "She works for me. I can't ask her out, unless she quits or I fire her and I won't do that."
The big man nodded. "I know that but this was on social media this morning. They're screen shots."
They were from a post on a gossip site, with one cellphone shot of Peri holding hands with the kids in the butterfly pavilion. At least the kids' faces were blanked out, protecting their identity. Another shot showed her coming out of the ladies room with her mother and Sadie. The actual caption made Bucky wince.
Is she the nanny or a new girlfriend for widower Representative James Barnes, or both? Already looking after the kids while he parties in the Big Apple?
"Brad hasn't said anything," stated Bucky, defensively. "He would have seen it before you." He looked at Evan then slumped a little. "He did, and sent it to you to ask me first."
"Yeah. After all the good press you got from this weekend Brad didn't want you to think the team were being critical, especially because they know you don't go to parties beyond making a brief appearance in the beginning. They want to get ahead of this." He glanced at the clock. "They should be sending you a statement to approve for your social media before we board."
Almost on cue, his phone signalled the receipt of an email and he opened it, seeing the proposed statement, as well as pictures taken of him at the events he went to, even some from this morning. They would be posted on Bucky's social media in the afternoon.
Representative James Buchanan Barnes spent the Veterans Day weekend in New York, taking part in the annual parade, as well as appearing at events sponsored by the American Legion, at their invitation. A town hall meeting in his district took the remainder of his free time. Representative Barnes devoted his weekend to fulfilling his duties as an elected official as seen in the accompanying images. His children were in the care of trusted employees, and he was in regular contact with them over the weekend.
"That's it? They make no comment about the implication that I have a girlfriend? Doesn't that confirm it to some people?"
Evan shrugged as he read it from Bucky's phone. "I guess officially you don't comment about your personal life. I'm surprised they mentioned the kids. You didn't tell them about visiting Mrs. Brody either. There isn't anything between you and Peri, so there's nothing to comment on."
He stared at the statement, angry that once again someone was questioning him for doing his job. Although the Elle incident had been reported to the Ethics Committee, once the police confirmed the charges against her and her lawyer, a majority had chosen to accept the results of the criminal investigation instead of calling on him to appear before them. The two cellphone pictures taken of Peri and the kids without their knowledge, and the smarmy caption attached to them, might just make some self-righteous member of the committee decide to try again. With a sigh, Bucky emailed his approval of the statement.
Hearing the call for preliminary boarding of their flight, he picked up his carry-on bag and followed Evan to the gate. They settled into their seats and waited for the rest of the passengers to board, smiling politely at anyone that recognized him. It wasn't until they were in the air and his phone was in airplane mode that he realized that whoever took those pictures had recognized his kids which he had gone to great lengths to prevent. He also wondered if Brad had given Peri the heads up on the pictures and the official response. God, he hoped so. This is exactly what he didn't want for her. Hadn't she been through enough?
Part 6>>
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Summary: The weekend goes well for Bucky in New York and Peri in Washington. Just before he returns on Tuesday, they are both reminded that perception is in the eyes of others.
Length: 5.4 K
Characters: Peri, Bucky, her parents, George, Sadie, Guillermo, Evan.
Warnings and other notes: Calm before a storm.
<<Part 4
Since Bucky accepted Peri's offer of help to look after the children for the days he was in New York, her parents suggested getting familiarized with them by video calls. As the subsequent video visits between Diane and Parker Fairmont, and the children became more interactive it evolved to discussing plans about what they could do together on that weekend. The visits helped alleviate any anxieties felt by the children about trusting the older couple.
Aside from those video conversations, the regular routine in the house confirmed that Sadie, who had previously been content with her father's company was becoming insistent on being actively involved with the other adults in the house after George and Bucky left for the day. It was part of her personality as much as George's introversion was part of his. Boardgames with the bodyguard on house duty, or helping Oscar fix things around the house, kept her occupied. Chatting about almost everything with Rosa while she baked, became an exercise in patient multitasking for the older woman. It was obvious they all adored the little girl as she was included on a daily basis without overindulging the sweet child she truly was. Even Peri wasn't immune to Sadie's presence; keeping a cache of art supplies in her office, ready for the almost three and a half year old girl to draw works of art whenever she wanted.
Recalling how her own parents would display their children's masterpieces using an assortment of ready made mattes and frames, Peri placed the finished pieces created by Sadie and also George in the frames and displayed them throughout the main house, including in Rosa and Oscar's private quarters, her own suite, and in the guest house used by the security detail. Whenever Peri switched out one picture in a frame for a newer one, she let the children help with the process.
Now that George no longer felt disloyal to the memory of his mother by allowing himself to like Peri, he also opened up to her. Whether it was during their piano lessons or even when she was otherwise engaged, she always made the time for him, something that Bucky noticed and appreciated.
As the Veterans Day weekend came closer Peri, her parents, and the children arrived at a mutually agreed upon plan. With Bucky leaving on the Saturday morning, they would have the rest of Saturday and all day Sunday free to take in the National Children's Museum, and the National Museum of Natural History. Both institutions were known to have programming appropriate for young children, plus they were places the children were familiar with and loved. While Bucky was in the Veterans Day Parade on the Monday, they would call him by phone when they saw him on the live stream so he could wave at them from the event.
The arrival of Peri's parents at the house on the Friday started well as Sadie immediately took them by the hand to the piano, to show them how she could play music, insisting that Peri's mother, Diane, sit next to her. After receiving some praise, the little girl slid off the piano stool and went to her brother, who was sticking close to Bucky.
"Come, Georgie," she said, taking his hand. "Play Twinkle, Twinkle with me."
He looked up at his father. "It's okay. Go ahead, you can do it."
Diane gave up her place on the bench, while George approached, sitting on the left side to play the lower notes while Sadie was to play the melody. Peri kneeled down beside the pair, murmuring something encouraging to both of them. Looking back at her husband for his reaction, Diane noted how Bucky watched Peri and the children with the softest of expressions. Returning her attention to the piano, she watched and listened as the two played the simple tune, keeping a steady tempo, without any mistakes. After they finished, Sadie got off the bench and curtseyed, getting applause from everyone.
That performance and the reaction set the tone for the whole weekend, and Bucky was able to leave with a clear conscience, accompanied only by Evan, as Mike and Sully had the weekend off. Jacob dropped the rest of them off at the National Children's Museum, then ran some errands for the security team. Guillermo, dressed in casual clothing and without his weapon because of the museum's security screening policy, appeared fairly relaxed, although still alert. After several hours of keeping watch from exhibit to exhibit he sat with Peri on a bench beside an indoor play area while her parents stayed with the children. Reaching inside his jacket, he pulled out a package of Mentos, offering her one.
"Thanks," she said, popping it in her mouth, then grinned. "Strawberry."
He shrugged as he put one in his mouth and sucked on it for a few moments. "Mine's lime. Sadie's favourite is orange. This package has every flavour so it's kind of a fun way to distract her by getting her to guess what the next flavour is."
"She has us all wrapped around her little finger," chuckled Peri.
"Yes, she does and I don't a mind a bit," he replied. He was quiet for a moment. "I'm going to miss her and George." That was an unexpected comment and she turned to look inquiringly at him. "I've been accepted into the training program for the United States Marshals Service. Evan and Bucky recommended me for it. I start in the new year."
"Do the others know?" she asked. He nodded. "The kids?"
"No, Bucky will tell them when he's ready. They'll be okay. They already interviewed someone for my replacement. You're part of the household now and that will help the transition. You've made a difference."
"Yeah? You think so?"
He looked steadily at her. "I know so. Those kids love you. I know George was hostile at first but you handled it right by not trying to force it. He just needed time to trust his own feelings about you. After what they all went through, it's a good thing." He gestured to the play area. "Look at them with your parents. You can tell they're good parents and grandparents. You have the same energy with those kids."
They watched the interaction of the older couple with the children and for a moment, Peri felt such pride that her kids trusted them so quickly. It was several seconds before she realized she had thought of George and Sadie as hers. Swallowing hard, she expelled a quick breath, not saying anything to Guillermo but she looked back at the children, accepting that she did love them. It hadn't been difficult at all to feel motherly about them.
The need for a bathroom break signalled the end of the visit to the museum and Jacob was summoned to pick them up. Both children fell asleep on the car ride home, but only Sadie had to be carried up to her bedroom by Guillermo, leaving Peri to tuck the little girl into her bed for a nap. After dinner, bath time followed for both children. With them in their pyjamas, they spent the evening watching a movie, although neither child made it even halfway through.
Since Peri's parents were sleeping in her suite, she was in one of the bedrooms near the kids. Oscar locked the house up, confirming with Keith by intercom, and the house settled down into its usual quiet state. That lasted until just after 1 am, when Peri heard her bedroom door open and tiny feet padding across the floor to the bed. Lifting her head, she saw Sadie clutching her unicorn stuffy toy.
"I gots scared," she sniffled.
"Come on, sweetie," answered Peri, shifting back and lifting her covers.
The little girl readily climbed in and curled into Peri, with one warm little hand pressed against the skin of her upper chest. When morning came, she found George star-fished but face down under the covers on the other side of the bed. It was a little crowded but she had been through it before with her nieces and nephews when they were little. The fact these two trusted her enough to sleep with her meant a lot.
Bucky checked in with a video call during breakfast, showing the kids his award from the banquet the night before. He listened patiently as Sadie breathlessly told him everything about the children's museum, with George filling in the gaps with some of his own observations. Reminding them to be good for Peri, and to watch the parade the next morning, he asked her to continue the call in her office.
"How were they really?" he asked, once she closed the door. "Any nightmares?"
"Sadie woke me up to say she was scared but she fell right back asleep as soon as she joined me," she answered. "George was on the other side of me when I woke up but he was spread right out so I think he was alright."
"Flat on his stomach?" She nodded. He smirked. "He likely did have a bad dream but sleeping with you made him feel safe. You slept okay?"
"I've had better and worse," she admitted. "How was the banquet?"
He smiled slightly and looked to the side. "About as exciting as you would expect but that's okay. They had some Korean War vets in attendance who were surprisingly charitable towards me, considering I was fighting for the other side then." He clarified. "Not willingly or knowingly but it's a matter of public record. They seemed quite happy that I'm trying to make things right for veterans now. The kids behaved for your parents?"
"Gosh yeah." She hesitated. "Guillermo said they have good grandparent vibes. He told me about him leaving in the new year."
Bucky nodded. "Yeah. He applied before but didn't get through the initial interview process. I'm not one to hold anyone back so I wrote him a recommendation when Evan asked. He'll be an outstanding lawman."
They were quiet for several long moments as he seemed distracted by the view out of his apartment window. Although she tried not to stare, Peri noticed that the outside light coming onto his face made his eyes seem even more blue than usual.
"Well, I better get back out there," she said, unsure what to say otherwise. "We're going to the natural history museum today."
"Make sure you get some pictures of the kids in the butterfly pavilion," replied Bucky, looking directly into the camera once again. "They love that place. Raina took them often." He tilted his head slightly. "Try to take a few selfies of yourself with the kids. It's such a happy feeling to have something so beautiful choose to land on you. Whenever it happened to me I just wanted to laugh."
"I will. Have a good town hall meeting."
"I'll try," he said, then nodded at her before he ended the connection.
The natural history museum was a big hit, especially with the fossil, insect, and butterfly exhibits. The kids asked for pictures of the butterflies on everyone, giggling when Guillermo made googly eyes while a bright blue Morpho butterfly landed on top of his head. They spent much of the day there, and Peri sent Bucky some of the pictures. Gradually, Sadie became over stimulated and began to cry at everything. She wanted to walk, then to be carried only by Peri, and demanding to hold her hand in the large SUV when they decided to go home. They had to reposition the car seats so Peri could sit next to her. Within five minutes of starting the trip home, Sadie fell asleep and stayed asleep even as she was carried up to her room again.
"Could see that coming," said Parker, grinning. "She went all out. Once she has that nap, she'll be fine."
With no school on the Monday, George was allowed to stay up longer after dinner, playing Mario video games. He persuaded Diane and Parker to play against him and Jacob, while Peri and Rosa painted Sadie's nails with pink nail polish, and applied a temporary butterfly tattoo on her arm. Once her nails were dry, she went readily to bed, where she stayed until shortly after 1 am, climbing into Peri's bed as she clutched her unicorn stuffy toy. George was also there in the morning with both of them, sprawled on his stomach. As Peri lay quietly with the sleeping children on either side of her, she silently laughed at the sense of contentment she felt crowded into the bed with Sadie and George.
Since the Veterans Day parade was scheduled for early Monday afternoon, everyone spent the morning in various ways. The three bodyguards did a cleanup of their quarters. Parker took the opportunity to have a workout in the basement gym that had finally been fully set up, Oscar went outside to make sure all of the driveway and walkways were clear of ice and snow, while Rosa started a baking session, making conchas and churros, favourites of the children. Diane, with her Mexican heritage, was familiar with the sweet treats and took the opportunity to ask Rosa about other dishes, comparing the minor differences between how they each prepared them.
"Peri, you didn't tell me that you had a Mexican ancestor," said Rosa, when she joined them. "If I had known, I would have asked you to come to the Día de Los Muertos celebration at the museum in Arlington with us last Saturday. We could have taken the children."
"You're Mexican?" interrupted George, perched on a tall stool at the kitchen island.
"My great-grandmother was," explained Peri. "To be honest the Day of the Dead just slipped my mind."
That brought questions about the day from both kids, so she went to get the tablet, and looked it up for them, showing them pictures of parades in Mexico, the flowers, and all the different examples of sugar skulls. Her mother told them about visiting the cemetery to honour her grandmother, on several Día de Los Muertos while she was growing up. She regretted that she hadn't really passed it on to her children as well as she should have.
"As I got older I kind of left my heritage behind," she explained. "I tried to reconnect to it again when Peri was born by naming her after my grandmother, and learning Mexican cooking but there's so much more."
Rosa looked between the two women.
"Esperanza is my real name," stated Peri. She smiled at Sadie. "It means hope."
"I'm named after my grandma," exclaimed the little girl. "She lives in New Yawk. My name means princess."
"Do you get to see her often?" asked Peri. "I don't think she's come here since I started. Is she away on a long holiday?"
Sadie and George looked sad, not answering. Rosa stopped what she was doing and wiped her hands. She went into the refrigerator and took out some juice boxes, then placed some of the finished churros on a plate and took them and the children into the family room. Turning on the television, she put it on a children's program, turning it up loud. Then she gestured to Peri to come with her into the utility room. Diane followed. At first Rosa wouldn't speak with her present.
"I signed an NDA," stated the older woman. "Whatever you say will stay in here. Why hasn't their grandmother visited? If they were my grandchildren I would be here as much as I could."
"Mrs. Brody is not well." Rosa sighed as she shook her head. "Before Mrs. Barnes died, the children would visit Mrs. Brody in December once the government was off for the holidays, then over the summer the family lived in New York and spent time with her, while Mr. Bucky went back and forth from Washington. Mrs. Brody helped look after the children for a time after Mrs. Barnes died, but she had cancer and couldn't do it anymore. She visited once or twice but became too sick to travel. He took the children with him to live with the Avengers as they had childcare for their other staff but George became upset at the dangers the other Avengers were facing. He feels things too much and it makes him sick with worry, so they came back here. Our employer, a Senator who retired because of poor health, recommended we work for Mr. Bucky." She smiled slightly. "It wasn't hard to love those children, and Oscar and I were happy to look after them but Mrs. Brody told him to get a nanny so that he could get back to work as an Avenger. After the police arrested Miss DeForest, Mr. Bucky tried to do it all himself, as he didn't trust anyone to find the right person, until they found Peri." She smiled warmly at her. "I know that he and the children are much happier with you here."
"Bucky told the children she was away this weekend. That's not the truth, is it?"
Reluctantly, Rosa acknowledged it. "He did video calls for the children to speak with her but she went into a hospice over the summer just before you arrived. In September she decided she didn't want the children to see her this way so they just do regular phone calls now. I think they know she is dying."
"So they haven't seen their grandmother since before the summer?" asked Peri. Rosa nodded. "She's all alone in a hospice?"
"Her other daughter and son visit with her as they live there. Mr. Bucky was planning to take the children to New York at Thanksgiving for them to say goodbye. She isn't expected to live for long after Christmas."
There wasn't much more to be said. It was obvious that Bucky was trying his best to shield his children from his mother-in-law's impending death. It was understandable considering they were still grieving the death of his wife. Although she wished he had said something to her, it wasn't something she could hold against him. Returning to the kitchen, the making of the conchas continued, with Rosa and her mother finishing the task while the kids watched television. Once the baking was done, lunch was prepared and everyone was called when it was ready.
It was soon time to look up the parade on the website of one of the local New York television stations. Peri found it on the tablet and sent it to the television screen. The New York representatives were part of the beginning of the parade, so Peri dialled Bucky's phone number when they saw him while he rode in a World War II army jeep, identifying him as a veteran of that war. With a smile, he answered, then waved to the camera, asking if they could see him. Both kids answered back, making him laugh at his end. A reporter with a cameraman approached the car asking who he was talking and waving to.
"My children," he explained. "They're watching the parade online." He waved again. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Although Sadie eventually lost interest in the parade, playing with her crayons and a colouring book instead, George watched all of it with the others, seeming impressed by the number of soldiers in it, the marching bands, and the different types of military vehicles that were driven in the parade. The three bodyguards, all of them with military service experience, explained the different branches of the military to him, as well as what the different vehicles were used for.
"What's World War II?" he asked. "They said my dad was in that war."
Keith looked at the other two bodyguards, trying to find the words to explain, as they didn't know what Bucky had told him about his past. How do you tell a five and half year old boy that his father is well over a hundred and ten years old and was once a prisoner of war who was used as a weapon?
"Have you ever asked your dad about it?" asked Parker, gently, picking up on the others' reluctance to answer. George shook his head. "Well, some things are meant to be discussed with your dad. I think you should ask him after he gets back."
"But I want to know now."
"I understand that but your dad is the one who wants to tell you. It's his story to tell, not ours."
George frowned but accepted the answer and didn't bring it up for the rest of the day. He did have a nightmare that night, one that woke Peri with his cries and sent her into his room. After sending him to the bathroom to relieve himself and wash his face, she tucked him back in, and sat with him for a while. She came back to her room to find Sadie already in her bed, pretending to be asleep. George showed up five minutes later, saying he couldn't sleep. Patting the other side of the covers, she opened them, saying nothing as he crawled in. Both children clung to her, affecting the quality of her sleep for the rest of the night.
The following morning had some tears, as George said goodbye to Peri's parents at the house before he was driven to school by Keith. Although the five year old was stoic after he cried, he did ask when they were coming back. Parker told him that he hoped it was soon, receiving a hug for that. A short time later, it was time for the couple to go and Sadie cried at the door, while Jacob loaded up their luggage in a smaller vehicle, since he was dropping them off at the airport and coming straight back. Diane lowered herself to Sadie's eye level, brushing her caramel coloured curls out of her face.
"I'll tell you what. If you ask Peri nicely, I'm sure she'll make more video calls so we can talk. Maybe, just maybe, you can come visit us in Scottsdale when it's warmer and we can have a pool party with all of our grandchildren."
"Really?" Peri nodded. Sadie looked back at Diane, with a hopeful face. "Are you my grandma now?"
"Well, I'm not your real grandma but if you want to call me that, I'll be very happy because I think you and your brother are amazing." After hugging the little girl, as well as Rosa and Oscar, they went out to the car with Peri. Jacob said he forgot something and went back inside, giving them privacy.
While embracing her daughter, Diane voiced a question that had to be asked. "Are you okay here?"
Pulling back, Peri looked at her parents, puzzled. "What do you mean?"
Parker put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. "You care about those two kids."
"Of course I do. They're sweet kids. We all care about them."
Her mother breathed out. "They love you but you work for their dad. You're not their family."
Shaking her head, Peri frowned. "What are you getting at? You just told Sadie it was okay to call you Grandma."
"I know," she smiled, then sighed. "I couldn't say no to her, not after what we learned. Those two kids need family, like their grandma, but with her sick they've given their love to the others and now they're giving it to you. My concern is that they may see you as their substitute mother, but by being Bucky's employee that can cause all sorts of problems for you, for him, and especially for those kids."
"I'm not in love with Bucky, if that's what you're worried about," stated Peri. "This weekend was a favour only because he wasn't ready to hire a nanny. He's been very professional in his interactions with me, always a gentleman. I don't understand ...."
Guillermo's words from Saturday came back to her; how the kids loved and trusted her, that she had good parent energy. Were the others seeing something more between her, Bucky, and the kids? Had allowing herself to love those two children opened her and Bucky to accusations of inappropriate behaviour?
"Peri?" Her dad said her name again before she looked at him. "I believe you, but as a representative of the government, Bucky is held to a higher standard than the rest of us. I hate to tell you not to be so affectionate with the kids but if you don't have a firm boundary with them it could expose you both to rumours which could lead to an investigation by the Ethics Committee." There must have been something in the way Peri looked at him because he smiled gently at her. "Look, no rules have been broken, no hearts have been tampered with, and I trust you both to be professional in your dealings. Just ... be careful how much affection you show the kids. They might believe that you are more than an employee."
She nodded and hung her head a little then hugged both of them before they got into the car. As she watched Jacob drive down to the gate, she thought over the implications of what her father said. He was right. She was becoming too affectionate with the children. If she was being honest with herself, she had also found herself watching Bucky when she thought he didn't notice. He was a very handsome man, and kind in ways that touched her deeply. Although she wasn't in love with him, she wasn't indifferent to the possibility. When he returned later that afternoon, she would ask for a meeting and make sure he understood this weekend wasn't meant to be repeated. If there were other times he had to leave for an extended period, he needed to hire an experienced nanny to take on the childcare duties. She had to be firm, to protect herself, and him, as well as the children. That would be the professional thing to do.
As she turned to go back inside, she felt a small twinge in her chest and pressed her hand against it, wondering if it was heartburn or something similar. Ignoring it, she went straight to her office, knowing there was email correspondence waiting for her to go through and print out the most timely ones so Bucky could read the hard copy once he returned and write out his answers. Time to do her job, her real job.
Several hours later, LaGuardia Airport
Bucky sat in the business class lounge with Evan, waiting for their flight to Washington. Because he stayed to take part in the citizenship ceremony that morning, he didn't return to Washington on Monday night with the other representatives. He had to make his own flight arrangements, and with their physical size business class afforded the most leg room. He flicked through the pictures of the children that Peri sent him throughout the weekend, smiling at how much fun they seemed to have.
When he went to visit his mother-in-law at the hospice on Sunday evening, she had been aware enough to look at them with him. The photo of Peri with her arms around the kids as they all laughed at the butterflies that were fluttering in front of them, had prompted her to comment that they seemed happy with her. She suggested that he ask her out if she was a nice person. At the time he had informed her that they couldn't be involved, as Peri was his employee. Still, he couldn't deny that he found himself thinking about her often. What was surprising to him was that he didn't feel guilty about it.
"Looks like they had fun," said Evan, scrolling through his own phone. "Guillermo sent me some pictures. He said he enjoyed taking point at the museums." They were both quiet for a moment, then he found another image and glanced around. "It's really not my place but are you involved with Peri?"
"What do you mean?" Bucky frowned. "She works for me. I can't ask her out, unless she quits or I fire her and I won't do that."
The big man nodded. "I know that but this was on social media this morning. They're screen shots."
They were from a post on a gossip site, with one cellphone shot of Peri holding hands with the kids in the butterfly pavilion. At least the kids' faces were blanked out, protecting their identity. Another shot showed her coming out of the ladies room with her mother and Sadie. The actual caption made Bucky wince.
Is she the nanny or a new girlfriend for widower Representative James Barnes, or both? Already looking after the kids while he parties in the Big Apple?
"Brad hasn't said anything," stated Bucky, defensively. "He would have seen it before you." He looked at Evan then slumped a little. "He did, and sent it to you to ask me first."
"Yeah. After all the good press you got from this weekend Brad didn't want you to think the team were being critical, especially because they know you don't go to parties beyond making a brief appearance in the beginning. They want to get ahead of this." He glanced at the clock. "They should be sending you a statement to approve for your social media before we board."
Almost on cue, his phone signalled the receipt of an email and he opened it, seeing the proposed statement, as well as pictures taken of him at the events he went to, even some from this morning. They would be posted on Bucky's social media in the afternoon.
Representative James Buchanan Barnes spent the Veterans Day weekend in New York, taking part in the annual parade, as well as appearing at events sponsored by the American Legion, at their invitation. A town hall meeting in his district took the remainder of his free time. Representative Barnes devoted his weekend to fulfilling his duties as an elected official as seen in the accompanying images. His children were in the care of trusted employees, and he was in regular contact with them over the weekend.
"That's it? They make no comment about the implication that I have a girlfriend? Doesn't that confirm it to some people?"
Evan shrugged as he read it from Bucky's phone. "I guess officially you don't comment about your personal life. I'm surprised they mentioned the kids. You didn't tell them about visiting Mrs. Brody either. There isn't anything between you and Peri, so there's nothing to comment on."
He stared at the statement, angry that once again someone was questioning him for doing his job. Although the Elle incident had been reported to the Ethics Committee, once the police confirmed the charges against her and her lawyer, a majority had chosen to accept the results of the criminal investigation instead of calling on him to appear before them. The two cellphone pictures taken of Peri and the kids without their knowledge, and the smarmy caption attached to them, might just make some self-righteous member of the committee decide to try again. With a sigh, Bucky emailed his approval of the statement.
Hearing the call for preliminary boarding of their flight, he picked up his carry-on bag and followed Evan to the gate. They settled into their seats and waited for the rest of the passengers to board, smiling politely at anyone that recognized him. It wasn't until they were in the air and his phone was in airplane mode that he realized that whoever took those pictures had recognized his kids which he had gone to great lengths to prevent. He also wondered if Brad had given Peri the heads up on the pictures and the official response. God, he hoped so. This is exactly what he didn't want for her. Hadn't she been through enough?
Part 6>>
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Summary: After Bucky explains his regret for the death of Peri’s husband, the pair ease into their working relationship. A request for Bucky to be in New York for several days sees Peri offering to help make it possible.
Length: 6.1 K
Characters: Bucky, Peri, George, Sadie.
Warnings and other notes: Misplaced guilt, emotional moment between father and son.
<<Part 3
Several weeks later, looking back on that confession from Bucky, Peri wondered what would have happened if she had just walked out of the library, packed her bags and left without getting clarification. At first, she couldn't say anything. The way the man who had been described as extremely reserved had told her so much of his private life before hitting her with that sentence ... I'm responsible for your husband's death ... made her feel like she was in a soap opera. There wasn't anger so much as a sense of confusion, because it wasn't what she believed happened, especially since the police report put the cause of death on injuries caused by being hit by another car that ran a red light. She told Bucky that.
"True, but I was chasing them on a motorcycle, while Sam and Joaquin were flying after them. They only ran the red light to get away from me."
"I don't see how that makes you responsible."
He shifted closer to her. "I pushed too hard and it made them desperate. If I had backed off sooner they wouldn't have gone so fast and wouldn't have been at the intersection at the same time as your husband."
"You don't know that." She shook her head, still not understanding why Bucky was telling her this. "I don't hold you responsible. My husband was cheating on me, with a woman who lived there. He made regular trips there to see her. You didn't make him do that, just like you didn't make them choose to go out for dinner that night. He drove the car through the wrong place at the wrong time."
Although it was obvious that Bucky had felt guilty about his involvement in her husband's death Peri was still perplexed. Why was he so insistent on convincing her of his own culpability? Unless ....
"Did you offer me the job because you felt guilty about my husband's death?" He didn't answer verbally but it was all over his face, confirming her suspicion. "That's the only reason, isn't it, and you sent Marge Dalton to check me out ahead of time."
"It wasn't like that."
She looked him in the eye, feeling the tension forming in her neck and shoulders. "Then what was it like?"
"I did feel guilty about your husband's death. It was only my third mission back after Elle started as the nanny. We flew back, did the debrief and that's when I learned about your husband cheating on you as it was mentioned in passing by one of the officers on scene when we reviewed the video files. I felt for you, for having your whole marriage come crashing down not just with his death but of his betrayal. It reminded me of suddenly losing Raina, of those men targeting my family because of me. I came back here, a few days later Elle made her move on me and Marge found out her background, setting all that business in motion."
"So that's when you decided to offer me a job."
He shook his head, slightly frustrated at not being able to explain it right.
"A few weeks after that Marge moved to your hometown, met your parents and found out the full extent of what your husband had done. She really is their neighbour although she's as busy now in retirement as she was when she was CEO and is consulting all over the country. When she told me, it triggered something in me, to do something for someone who was hurting as much as I had." He shrugged, as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Your parents were worried about you and Marge believed she could help you get your confidence back. When she helped you write down all of your skills, she believed you would be a good fit as my personal assistant. You sent your resume in to all the different agencies, and Marge made sure it was flagged by her former agency to be forwarded to me and you were contacted for an interview. You needed a change; I needed someone to handle my personal affairs."
He leaned back, looking at her with an expression almost of relief, as he had worried about this moment. As angry as Peri should have been, this impulsive information dump from Bucky Barnes had proven one thing about the man. Even with how private and introverted he was, he felt obligated to disclose his reasons to hire her, sharing his own pain and guilt with her in the process. It was an unconventional way to headhunt for the right candidate but that's what it really boiled down to. This late night confession was important for him to express how sincere he was in wanting her to have the job.
"Am I supposed to be the nanny as well? You know I had no children."
"No, you're not supposed to be the nanny. I'm not ready to go back to the Avengers yet so I'll handle the majority of child care but when I am ready, I'll find the right person and I won't rely on someone else to decide who that is. You're my personal assistant. That's all."
"Except, from what more I've learned of my position, I won't be handling any financial matters."
"No." His jaw set firmly, as if he felt it necessary to emphasize it. "It's no reflection on you; it's protecting my family's interests after what Elle did. You'll have an operating account for anything you need to do the job right. The credit card for that should arrive tomorrow and as long as the receipts reconcile with the statement there will be no issues."
"I understood that. Mrs. Chambers explained everything." Her shoulders lowered, as she deliberately tried to lessen the tension. Wanting to make up for how her comment seemed to upset him, she smiled. "Based on what I've noticed since I got here, your kids have a way of making the adults in this house fall for them in a big way. I hope I'm not supposed to be immune to that. They're lovely children and I think it's important that they trust me like they trust the others."
"They are great kids, and they are hard to resist." A soft but sad smile crept onto his face. "If I didn't have them I would have ...." He looked up at the ceiling, recalling a moment of despair that he almost acted upon. "I wouldn't be here." Licking his lips, he leaned forward on his elbows. "Here's the deal. If you can forgive me for not disclosing everything before you signed the contract, I would like you to stay. I don't expect you to look after my kids but if they decide they like you by asking you to read them a story or spending some time with them, please like them back. They're still adjusting, too, especially George. As young as he is, there are times he thinks he could have done something to save his mother."
He looked so vulnerable as he sat in the quiet library space, wearing that tank undershirt that was definitely not even business casual. Already impressed by his interactions with Evan and Keith, and his quiet but loving way of handling his children, Peri couldn't really be that angry with him. Yes, he should have disclosed all this before she signed the contract but she probably would have signed it anyways. Standing up, she sighed.
"Alright, I'll stay but if I find out you have kept me out of the loop on something else, I may change my mind."
"That's fair." He stood up, offering her his hand. "Thank you for not looking at me like I was crazy."
She placed her hand in his larger one, suddenly realizing they hadn't touched before that moment. She noticed the calluses on his fingertips and how warm his hand was. After three shakes, he released her, then nodded, before he wished her a good night, and returned to his reading.
Since that heartfelt confession in the library, Peri dove into her work, starting with a brief meeting with Bucky the next morning before he went to Washington, on which personal matters he wanted her to handle first in the backlog of emails and correspondence. His priorities were anything to do with school for George, as he was starting kindergarten, followed by requests sent through his public email that involved veterans groups. She had to cross reference any that were also sent to his government or Avengers public contact email, conferring with the staff at both offices over which of them would handle the request. It was a juggling act sometimes, especially as Bucky and the children stayed in New York two to three weekends out of the month to satisfy the state residency requirements of being a Representative. As the weeks passed and they established their working relationship, she found herself enjoying the challenge.
Less enjoyable was filtering the over-enthusiastic fan mail (especially from some persistent female fans) and hate mail, either sent via email or by actual letters, especially those that mentioned specific threats to Bucky or his children. Even with the embargo on publicly acknowledging their existence there were sometimes paparazzi pictures of them with their father overlaid with the outlines of targets. Letters or emails like those were automatically referred to the US Capitol Police for follow up, coordinating with local law enforcement here and in Brooklyn. Copies were also provided to Bucky's personal security detail, as they were contracted by him personally. They kept a database of known individuals who had made those threats, always watching for them in the vicinity.
Bucky had already registered his son in May for the fall kindergarten program, but over the summer consulted with the security detail as well as with the USCP about the logistics of George attending school in Washington itself. Despite wanting his son to have as normal a life as possible, attending a school near where they lived had all sorts of security issues, for George as well as the school itself. The decision was made for the security detail to drive him to school in Washington, D.C. everyday and pick him up, usually at the same time Bucky was transported. The school already had a large number of students whose parents were in the government and had well established security protocols in place to protect them. The trip would take time but it would be safer for George, and would give him exclusive time with his father on the ride in. Once the decision was made, and they attended the orientation session for parents and kindergarten students the week before school started, the anxieties of father and son about this change to their routine were soothed. School staff were well aware of the family's circumstances and helped George adapt to the new environment.
There were occasional days when Bucky didn't go into Washington, choosing to work remotely from the library at home. Sometimes, he worked directly with Peri if she needed his input on personal correspondence. He also used the library to take part in online video meetings for interviews or appearances, or with the Avengers going over mission briefings so he could give his input. Sadie occasionally joined him for the latter, sitting quietly on his lap, watching and cuddling while playing with his dog tags. It was very sweet how her presence helped keep him grounded.
Peri brought up the piano, asking if he objected to her playing it. At first, he said nothing, then looked at it wistfully, explaining it was his late wife who played. She had wanted the children to learn to play it.
"You know that it's important for an instrument to be used," she replied. "It's a complex instrument with thousands of parts that can deteriorate if it isn't exercised. I had to sell my piano to pay the debt I was left and I've missed playing. It would be my honour to keep Raina's instrument in working condition."
With his permission, she played it most days before dinner, sometimes with Sadie sitting next to her, taking the opportunity to show her how to place her fingers on the keyboard and play the simplest of tunes. She would have done the same for George, but for now, he seemed content to watch her play, listening intently to what she played from the sheet music and music books she found inside the piano bench, pieces that his mother likely played. There were times he sat at the top of the staircase, positioned where he could watch Peri and Sadie together, interested but not quite ready to join them.
After dinner, while Bucky had alone time with the children prior to getting them ready for bed, Peri would use the pool, swimming laps. He usually came out to do his own laps, arriving just as she put her robe on to go back inside, nodding at her as they passed each other on the patio. One late September evening, when she was delayed because of a video call with her sister, she didn't get out there until later. Wearing her bathing suit and wrapping herself up in a terry robe, she grabbed a towel and left her suite through the French doors, walking along the outside path towards the pool area. It was a cool evening but with the pool being heated she wasn't concerned about it being too cold to swim. Tendrils of warm mist wafted just above the lighted surface of the water making it look like a light layer of fog was drifting over it. Tugging on her swim cap, Peri tucked her hair in, removed her robe and placed it with the towel on a lounge chair. After slipping off her flip flops she stepped down into the long rectangular pool, splashing the warm water over herself. Then she pushed herself under the surface, taking several long glides to the other end, coming up for air and positioning herself on the narrow ledge that was halfway down the pool wall. The patio doors slid open and Bucky stepped out, a towel wrapped around his waist while also wearing a T-shirt. Noticing her things on the lounge chair, he looked towards the pool, saw her at the other end and raised his hand.
"Sorry I'm here during your time," she said. "I had a video call with my sister but I wanted to get some laps in before bed time."
"It's okay. How's the water?"
"Really nice." She shifted over to the right side. "I can follow this side, if you want to use the other."
"Sure."
He took his towel off, revealing a close fitting swim brief with square legs that barely covered the top of his thighs, which were more muscular than she had imagined. The T-shirt came off next, displaying his broad shoulders and well-built chest. She saw the prosthetic arm and shoulder in its entirety for the first time, as well as the definite outline of a six pack on his abdomen. Realizing she was staring, she ducked under the water which wasn't the best decision as he entered the pool just as she did, then swam the entire length of it underwater. As he approached her, he looked like a swimming god with how quickly he sliced through the distance. Coming up right beside her with his face directed towards the sky, they broke the surface together then he ran his hand through his hair, the movement definitely affecting her in a noticeable way.
"That feels good," he commented, putting one arm on the top edge and one foot on the underwater ledge as he turned towards her. "They have a wellness centre for members of the House and another one for the Senate but I always feel like I'm on display there. Some of them try to compete against me in the weight room." He grimaced. "They can't but don't like it when I lift more than anyone there because of the serum. I've heard them mutter that I'm showing off."
"What about in the winter?" asked Peri. "What do you do then?"
He shrugged, then patted his belly. "Put on weight. I put a fitness room in the guesthouse for the security detail. They say they're okay with me using it but really it's for them. I should buy a treadmill for the bedroom at least but I keep putting it off. If you think you would use it I can get one and put it in the basement. There is a room down there that was supposed to be a fitness and yoga room for Raina but we never got around to setting it up. I could get some other fitness equipment as well ... if you want."
It was a generous offer. "I could do some research," she said. "A treadmill would be nice, maybe an exercise bike or a rowing machine, some free weights."
"Do that. In the meantime, I'll do my laps out here until it gets too cold out and we have to drain the pool."
Facing the length of the pool, he rolled each shoulder in turn, then stretched his right arm across his chest. With a nod at her, he began swimming. She set her smart watch timer, and pushed off from the edge in a front crawl. Swimming next to Bucky took some getting used to but eventually she found her rhythm and focused on that. She kept up her pace for some time until she felt the calf muscle in one leg cramp up. Still in the deep end she stopped and grasped her leg with one hand, while reaching for the side to hold onto. Bucky stopped immediately.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Leg cramp."
"Float on your back and straighten your leg," he said as he came over and supported her. "Flex your foot, push your heel down and lift your toes towards your shin."
Quickly, with his hands underneath her, he moved her over to the shallow end so she could sit on the steps into the pool. Kneeling before her he positioned her foot on his chest, encouraging her to press her heel into it and keep it flexed while he massaged her calf muscle. As his hands pressed into the centre of the muscle that was cramping she winced. He let up slightly and within minutes the pain lessened. Feeling the relief, she nodded.
"Thanks, I think that got it."
Removing his hands and shifting back a little, he sat back on his heels for a moment then stood up before sitting beside her on the step, his physical presence even more evident with the close proximity. The heat from his body made little wisps of vapour lift from his skin and dissipate in the cool air. For a long moment they sat there without speaking then she remembered her smart watch and stopped the timer. Bucky stood up again and offered her a hand. Taking it, she pulled herself up, testing her leg by putting some weight on it, then went up the steps where they each went to their towels and dried off. She pulled her swim cap off, and put her robe on.
"Well, thanks for helping me with the cramp," she said, then gestured towards the walkway. "I'm going in now. See you at breakfast."
"Yeah," he smiled, as he put one leg on the lounge chair to continue drying it. "Good night."
He watched her walk away towards the path at the side of the house, since she came out that door. When she was out of sight, he sat on his lounge chair and finished drying the other leg. Seeing her in the water had been unexpected. An initial moment of irritation at her presence had given way to an appreciation for her company. Unknowingly, she had done exactly what his late wife often did; swimming alongside him after the kids were in bed. They hadn't finished in the same manner that he did with his wife, but holding Peri up and massaging her leg cramp made something melancholy pang deep within him.
Wrapping the towel around his waist, he didn't bother with the T-shirt. He went to a panel on the wall of the house, activating the pool cover, making sure it was covering the edges. With the days getting shorter and the nights getting cooler, the leaves were already falling. In the morning, Oscar would use the leaf blower to remove any that fell on the pool cover. Then Bucky turned off the pool lights and picked up his towel and shirt. After entering the house he locked the patio doors and closed the blinds. On the wall panel next to the stairs, he checked the security system to make sure all the doors and windows were locked, then pressed the intercom button, waiting for Evan to respond.
"Locking up the house," he said.
"Copy that," replied the head of his detail. "Goodnight Bucky."
"Goodnight."
At the top of the stairs he turned off all the lights and went into his bedroom, peeling his swim trunks off then soaking them in soapy water in the bathroom sink. He took a quick shower, rinsed the trunks and hung them up in the shower, brushed his teeth, then dressed for bed. Turning on the bedside lamp, then turning off the overhead light he returned to the bed and picked up a briefing packet on an upcoming vote for increasing national funding for school lunches in impoverished areas. Even though he knew he would vote for it, having been a recipient of them during the Depression, he just couldn't get into the document. The recollection of Peri's foot pressed against his chest while he massaged her leg wouldn't stop replaying itself in his mind. It was the first time he had touched another woman other than shaking hands, since Raina died and it was affecting him in a big way.
With a sigh he put the packet on his nightstand and took off his prosthetic arm before turning off the light. On his back with his right hand under his head, he closed his eyes and tried to breathe deeply. It took longer than normal but sleep eventually came.
Nothing was said about it at breakfast that Saturday morning, as it didn't seem right to bring it up with everyone there. Peri finished hers quickly, excusing herself to get a start on assembling some pictures for Bucky to personalize and autograph for fans who had requested them. While she was doing that, he received a phone call from his Washington office manager, Mrs. Chambers, about an upcoming appearance. He moved from the kitchen to the library to put her on speaker.
"Remember how you were asked to participate with the other New York representatives at the Veterans Day parade on November 11?" she asked.
"Yes. I was going to fly in the night before and return that evening."
"The American Legion would like you to be the guest of honour at a banquet in New York on the 9th. They want to give you an award for your veterans advocacy." Bucky was quiet for a moment. He had done single overnight trips without the kids, but hadn't done anything longer as a representative since before Raina died. Mrs. Chambers cleared her throat. "They are also hosting a citizenship ceremony on the 12th for disabled veterans from other countries who served in our forces and are finally getting their citizenship. They would like you to be there to personally meet and greet the new citizens."
"That's three nights, minimum," said Bucky. "I can't leave the kids here that long and their grandma is away that week. I don't have a nanny yet and six weeks isn't long enough to feel comfortable leaving them with one, assuming I can hire one today."
He turned towards the window, looking through the maple trees which were spread throughout the property, noticing a squirrel running down the trunk of one of the trees that was just starting to turn colour. A sound at the door made him glance over to see Peri standing there.
"Bucky, this is a big deal," said Mrs. Chambers. "Your fundraising committee got wind of it and they're already planning a PR blitz with footage from it. Getting any sort of endorsement from the American Legion is good news, with them officially being seen as non-partisan. Even though you ran under the Democrats banner, you've already shown you can support bi-partisan legislation as long as it's fair and that can sway undecided voters. Maybe we can arrange for a babysitter so you can take the kids with you, let them see that side of you."
"No, I'm not parading my kids out in public like little trophies of my reformed life."
"Rosa and I can take care of them," said Peri, stepping forward.
He frowned at her, then looked at his phone. "I'm putting you on mute for a moment." Pressing the mute button he looked at her, speaking a little sharper to Peri than he normally would. "We already had this conversation shortly after you got here. I didn't hire you to be a nanny."
"No, you didn't and I'm not offering to take on the role of one." She came closer, exuding a sense of calm. "I'm offering in the same way I would offer to look after my nieces and nephews so my sisters could get away for a weekend with their husbands." She shrugged. "It was my opportunity to help with an immediate need. I can ask my parents if they wanted to make a visit then. It's all about making sure the kids don't feel alone while you're gone, right? The invitation is important to you politically but you don't have the time to hire a new nanny or the confidence to leave your kids with one yet. So use the people you have."
She raised her hands slightly from her sides, leaving it for him to decide.
"Why would your parents even come if I'm not around?"
"Because you invited them to visit anytime," she answered. "They're always asking me when it would be appropriate and if they come on the day before you leave, they'll get time to meet your kids with you around. They like kids, all kids, not just their grandchildren." She shrugged. "Besides, I kind of want them to see how much I like being here."
His jaw twitched slightly, in amusement rather than irritation. "Yeah? You're not bored with the paperwork or dealing with the ladies who email demanding you give me their personal phone numbers?"
"There's not all that many of them," she grinned. "No big deal crushing their fantasies."
He smiled then and looked at his phone, unmuting it. "You still there?" Mrs. Chambers answered. "Give me some time to make the arrangements but I'll accept tentatively. Make sure they know that they'll get a definitive answer before the end of the day." Just before he hung up, he spoke again as he looked at Peri. "I'll stay in the apartment. Could you arrange with Mrs. Fraser for someone to stock it with some food? She has keys for the place."
He hung up. Peri was standing in the same spot. "Good thing you still have an apartment there. It will help your residency status."
He nodded. "It's where Raina and I lived before I ran for office the first time. She stayed there while I was with the New Avengers. I'll call Mrs. Chambers back to make it an official visit to my district. I can hold a town hall meeting on the 10th."
"There you go," smiled Peri, who turned to leave. "Ticking off a whole checklist of important things."
"Wait," he said, stepping towards the door and looking out before closing it. "Did I cross a line last night?"
"When?"
"Rubbing your calf muscle in the pool." He could feel his face getting warm as he said it. "It occurred to me later that it might be construed as inappropriate behaviour between an employer and employee."
"I had a cramp in the pool, you helped me get to the steps and you helped treat the cramp. It was appreciated, not inappropriate."
"You would tell me if it was, wouldn't you?"
"Yes, I would." She looked up at him, noticing the relieved look on his face. He really was a gentleman, underneath all the layers of his complex personality that made him an enigma. "I have the photos ready for you to sign. Do you want to do it in here?"
"Please." He looked at his watch. "I'll get the kids dressed, then sign them when I come back down."
"Okay, I'll get the folder and leave it on your desk. I'll also call my parents and see if they would like to visit on that weekend."
He opened the door for her, following her out. While she went to her office, he returned to the kitchen and found the kids helping Rosa load the dishwasher. Escorting them upstairs, he made sure they both washed their faces and brushed their teeth, then he helped Sadie get dressed first, in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, with unicorn socks. With her still sitting on the bed, helping her with her sneakers, he brought up the prospect of spending a weekend with Rosa, Peri and Peri's parents while he went to New York in November.
"Can we go to New Yawk with you?" she asked, sounding so much like a long time resident of the city that it made him smile.
He breathed out noticeably. "Not this time because I'm going to be working and Grandma isn't going to be there to look after you. I'm supposed to be in a parade." His face brightened. "I bet that Peri can find it on the internet and you can watch it. You could even phone me when you see me and I'll wave at you while I'm on the phone. How does that sound?"
"Okay." She scrunched her face up for a moment. "Can I sleep with her in your bed if I gets scared?"
"No, but maybe she can sleep in one of the spare bedrooms near yours. Is that alright?"
She nodded then slid off the bed and headed for the door. Sadie was the easy one to convince. He wasn't so sure about George. Arriving at his son's room, he watched as the boy pulled on a T-shirt and hoodie over his jeans.
"Need help with your socks?" he asked.
"No, I got them." George sat on the bed and bent one knee to put a sock on. "I heard you talking to Sadie. Do you have to go to New York?"
"Yeah, part of my job as Representative for my district is that I have to go there several times a year to keep the people who live there informed about what's happening with the government. At first, I was only going with the other representatives for the parade but Mrs. Chambers said there are some other things that I need to do."
"Like what?"
"Get an award." George stopped and looked at him with raised eyebrows. "Yeah, your dad is getting an award because some people like that I keep pushing for the government to help veterans who served in the military."
"Okay. What else?"
"There are people who join our military and serve our country who weren't born here and aren't citizens. Some of them get hurt and I try to make sure they're treated fairly when they need help. A group that are becoming citizens want me to be there when they take the Oath of Allegiance. I'll have to stay for three days and nights to do everything that is planned."
George put his other sock on as he listened, then stopped when he heard how long his father would be away. They both turned their heads when they heard the sound of the piano playing from the base of the stairs, along with Sadie's laughter, followed by her playing a simple tune.
"Sadie really likes when Peri plays the piano," murmured George, looking at his hands. "It sounds like Mom playing." Bucky nodded, giving his son time to talk through his feelings. "Peri is nice to us and she doesn't try to make me like her." He pressed his lips together, as his eyes welled up. "Is it bad to want to like her? Would Mom be mad?"
Bucky inched his hand forward, until George slid his hand underneath his father's fingers.
"No. It's not bad. You will always love your mom and that will never change. You don't have to give up loving Mom to like Peri. I think Mom would want you to be happy, so if you do like Peri, it's okay to show her. She offered to look after both of you with Rosa, and wants to ask her mom and dad to help because I asked them to visit us. I met them before I brought her here and I liked them very much."
"You'll come back?"
Several tears rolled down George's cheeks as he looked into Bucky's eyes. Pulling him onto his lap, he buried his face into the side of his son's head as the boy held on tight, sobbing.
"My sweet boy. I will always come back to you and Sadie. You are my home and my world and everything I hold dear. You believe me, right?"
The boy nodded his head, not relinquishing his hold on Bucky. They sat for several long minutes, until the sobs subsided into sniffs and hiccups. Bucky fished his handkerchief out of his pocket, dabbing George's eyes with it before kissing him on the forehead.
"You ready to go downstairs yet?"
His son shook his head. "They'll know I was crying and think I'm a baby."
"No, they won't. Sadie loves you too much to think that and the grownups will know that you just needed to get rid of some emotions. We've all cried at one time or another."
"Even you?"
"Even me."
Releasing a shaky breath, George nodded and climbed off his father's lap, slipping his feet into his pull-on sneakers. Before Bucky stood up, he cupped his son's face, checking in one more time before they went down the stairs. At the top, George put his hand in Bucky's, letting go once they reached the main floor. Peri was watching Sadie play with the different piano keys but she glanced at the pair, before returning her attention to the little girl. Then George came over to stand beside where his sister sat, watching her with interest. Leaving him there, Bucky went to the library to sign the photos, almost stopping when he heard George speak.
"Could you teach me to play the piano?"
Even better was the answer from Peri.
"I would love to teach you, George. Your mom chose some really good music here and I think you would like to play her songs wouldn't you?"
Continuing on to the library, Bucky didn't immediately go to his desk to sign the photos. Instead, he looked out the window at the sunny Saturday, and the maple trees that were just starting to turn, and the squirrel who was scampering across another tree. No matter what was going on in the house, the world kept turning. It had only been a few months since Peri arrived, but she had brought something to the house that hadn't been there since his wife died. He wasn't sure if it was a calming presence, or just the fact that she understood the hurt they were still dealing with having been hurt just as cruelly as they had. Regardless, she made Sadie laugh as they played music together, and had finally connected with George, a boy who had stopped trusting most people.
What about you?
The question bounced around in his head. Why would he ask himself that? She worked for him. That's all it was; an employer / employee relationship. It couldn't be anything else because he was still in love with Raina. They were professional with each other, nothing more. Sitting at his desk, he opened the folder with the photographs of him and a sticky note on each saying who it was for and why they asked for an autographed picture of him. It was easy to personalize each one. Peri did a good job getting them ready because she was good at her job. That's all there was between them ... the job.
Summary: The weekend goes well for Bucky in New York and Peri in Washington. Just before he returns on Tuesday, they are both reminded that perception is in the eyes of others.
Length: 5.4 K
Characters: Peri, Bucky, her parents, George, Sadie, Guillermo, Evan.
Warnings and other notes: Calm before a storm.
<<Part 4
Since Bucky accepted Peri's offer of help to look after the children for the days he was in New York, her parents suggested getting familiarized with them by video calls. As the subsequent video visits between Diane and Parker Fairmont, and the children became more interactive it evolved to discussing plans about what they could do together on that weekend. The visits helped alleviate any anxieties felt by the children about trusting the older couple.
Aside from those video conversations, the regular routine in the house confirmed that Sadie, who had previously been content with her father's company was becoming insistent on being actively involved with the other adults in the house after George and Bucky left for the day. It was part of her personality as much as George's introversion was part of his. Boardgames with the bodyguard on house duty, or helping Oscar fix things around the house, kept her occupied. Chatting about almost everything with Rosa while she baked, became an exercise in patient multitasking for the older woman. It was obvious they all adored the little girl as she was included on a daily basis without overindulging the sweet child she truly was. Even Peri wasn't immune to Sadie's presence; keeping a cache of art supplies in her office, ready for the almost three and a half year old girl to draw works of art whenever she wanted.
Recalling how her own parents would display their children's masterpieces using an assortment of ready made mattes and frames, Peri placed the finished pieces created by Sadie and also George in the frames and displayed them throughout the main house, including in Rosa and Oscar's private quarters, her own suite, and in the guest house used by the security detail. Whenever Peri switched out one picture in a frame for a newer one, she let the children help with the process.
Now that George no longer felt disloyal to the memory of his mother by allowing himself to like Peri, he also opened up to her. Whether it was during their piano lessons or even when she was otherwise engaged, she always made the time for him, something that Bucky noticed and appreciated.
As the Veterans Day weekend came closer Peri, her parents, and the children arrived at a mutually agreed upon plan. With Bucky leaving on the Saturday morning, they would have the rest of Saturday and all day Sunday free to take in the National Children's Museum, and the National Museum of Natural History. Both institutions were known to have programming appropriate for young children, plus they were places the children were familiar with and loved. While Bucky was in the Veterans Day Parade on the Monday, they would call him by phone when they saw him on the live stream so he could wave at them from the event.
The arrival of Peri's parents at the house on the Friday started well as Sadie immediately took them by the hand to the piano, to show them how she could play music, insisting that Peri's mother, Diane, sit next to her. After receiving some praise, the little girl slid off the piano stool and went to her brother, who was sticking close to Bucky.
"Come, Georgie," she said, taking his hand. "Play Twinkle, Twinkle with me."
He looked up at his father. "It's okay. Go ahead, you can do it."
Diane gave up her place on the bench, while George approached, sitting on the left side to play the lower notes while Sadie was to play the melody. Peri kneeled down beside the pair, murmuring something encouraging to both of them. Looking back at her husband for his reaction, Diane noted how Bucky watched Peri and the children with the softest of expressions. Returning her attention to the piano, she watched and listened as the two played the simple tune, keeping a steady tempo, without any mistakes. After they finished, Sadie got off the bench and curtseyed, getting applause from everyone.
That performance and the reaction set the tone for the whole weekend, and Bucky was able to leave with a clear conscience, accompanied only by Evan, as Mike and Sully had the weekend off. Jacob dropped the rest of them off at the National Children's Museum, then ran some errands for the security team. Guillermo, dressed in casual clothing and without his weapon because of the museum's security screening policy, appeared fairly relaxed, although still alert. After several hours of keeping watch from exhibit to exhibit he sat with Peri on a bench beside an indoor play area while her parents stayed with the children. Reaching inside his jacket, he pulled out a package of Mentos, offering her one.
"Thanks," she said, popping it in her mouth, then grinned. "Strawberry."
He shrugged as he put one in his mouth and sucked on it for a few moments. "Mine's lime. Sadie's favourite is orange. This package has every flavour so it's kind of a fun way to distract her by getting her to guess what the next flavour is."
"She has us all wrapped around her little finger," chuckled Peri.
"Yes, she does and I don't a mind a bit," he replied. He was quiet for a moment. "I'm going to miss her and George." That was an unexpected comment and she turned to look inquiringly at him. "I've been accepted into the training program for the United States Marshals Service. Evan and Bucky recommended me for it. I start in the new year."
"Do the others know?" she asked. He nodded. "The kids?"
"No, Bucky will tell them when he's ready. They'll be okay. They already interviewed someone for my replacement. You're part of the household now and that will help the transition. You've made a difference."
"Yeah? You think so?"
He looked steadily at her. "I know so. Those kids love you. I know George was hostile at first but you handled it right by not trying to force it. He just needed time to trust his own feelings about you. After what they all went through, it's a good thing." He gestured to the play area. "Look at them with your parents. You can tell they're good parents and grandparents. You have the same energy with those kids."
They watched the interaction of the older couple with the children and for a moment, Peri felt such pride that her kids trusted them so quickly. It was several seconds before she realized she had thought of George and Sadie as hers. Swallowing hard, she expelled a quick breath, not saying anything to Guillermo but she looked back at the children, accepting that she did love them. It hadn't been difficult at all to feel motherly about them.
The need for a bathroom break signalled the end of the visit to the museum and Jacob was summoned to pick them up. Both children fell asleep on the car ride home, but only Sadie had to be carried up to her bedroom by Guillermo, leaving Peri to tuck the little girl into her bed for a nap. After dinner, bath time followed for both children. With them in their pyjamas, they spent the evening watching a movie, although neither child made it even halfway through.
Since Peri's parents were sleeping in her suite, she was in one of the bedrooms near the kids. Oscar locked the house up, confirming with Keith by intercom, and the house settled down into its usual quiet state. That lasted until just after 1 am, when Peri heard her bedroom door open and tiny feet padding across the floor to the bed. Lifting her head, she saw Sadie clutching her unicorn stuffy toy.
"I gots scared," she sniffled.
"Come on, sweetie," answered Peri, shifting back and lifting her covers.
The little girl readily climbed in and curled into Peri, with one warm little hand pressed against the skin of her upper chest. When morning came, she found George star-fished but face down under the covers on the other side of the bed. It was a little crowded but she had been through it before with her nieces and nephews when they were little. The fact these two trusted her enough to sleep with her meant a lot.
Bucky checked in with a video call during breakfast, showing the kids his award from the banquet the night before. He listened patiently as Sadie breathlessly told him everything about the children's museum, with George filling in the gaps with some of his own observations. Reminding them to be good for Peri, and to watch the parade the next morning, he asked her to continue the call in her office.
"How were they really?" he asked, once she closed the door. "Any nightmares?"
"Sadie woke me up to say she was scared but she fell right back asleep as soon as she joined me," she answered. "George was on the other side of me when I woke up but he was spread right out so I think he was alright."
"Flat on his stomach?" She nodded. He smirked. "He likely did have a bad dream but sleeping with you made him feel safe. You slept okay?"
"I've had better and worse," she admitted. "How was the banquet?"
He smiled slightly and looked to the side. "About as exciting as you would expect but that's okay. They had some Korean War vets in attendance who were surprisingly charitable towards me, considering I was fighting for the other side then." He clarified. "Not willingly or knowingly but it's a matter of public record. They seemed quite happy that I'm trying to make things right for veterans now. The kids behaved for your parents?"
"Gosh yeah." She hesitated. "Guillermo said they have good grandparent vibes. He told me about him leaving in the new year."
Bucky nodded. "Yeah. He applied before but didn't get through the initial interview process. I'm not one to hold anyone back so I wrote him a recommendation when Evan asked. He'll be an outstanding lawman."
They were quiet for several long moments as he seemed distracted by the view out of his apartment window. Although she tried not to stare, Peri noticed that the outside light coming onto his face made his eyes seem even more blue than usual.
"Well, I better get back out there," she said, unsure what to say otherwise. "We're going to the natural history museum today."
"Make sure you get some pictures of the kids in the butterfly pavilion," replied Bucky, looking directly into the camera once again. "They love that place. Raina took them often." He tilted his head slightly. "Try to take a few selfies of yourself with the kids. It's such a happy feeling to have something so beautiful choose to land on you. Whenever it happened to me I just wanted to laugh."
"I will. Have a good town hall meeting."
"I'll try," he said, then nodded at her before he ended the connection.
The natural history museum was a big hit, especially with the fossil, insect, and butterfly exhibits. The kids asked for pictures of the butterflies on everyone, giggling when Guillermo made googly eyes while a bright blue Morpho butterfly landed on top of his head. They spent much of the day there, and Peri sent Bucky some of the pictures. Gradually, Sadie became over stimulated and began to cry at everything. She wanted to walk, then to be carried only by Peri, and demanding to hold her hand in the large SUV when they decided to go home. They had to reposition the car seats so Peri could sit next to her. Within five minutes of starting the trip home, Sadie fell asleep and stayed asleep even as she was carried up to her room again.
"Could see that coming," said Parker, grinning. "She went all out. Once she has that nap, she'll be fine."
With no school on the Monday, George was allowed to stay up longer after dinner, playing Mario video games. He persuaded Diane and Parker to play against him and Jacob, while Peri and Rosa painted Sadie's nails with pink nail polish, and applied a temporary butterfly tattoo on her arm. Once her nails were dry, she went readily to bed, where she stayed until shortly after 1 am, climbing into Peri's bed as she clutched her unicorn stuffy toy. George was also there in the morning with both of them, sprawled on his stomach. As Peri lay quietly with the sleeping children on either side of her, she silently laughed at the sense of contentment she felt crowded into the bed with Sadie and George.
Since the Veterans Day parade was scheduled for early Monday afternoon, everyone spent the morning in various ways. The three bodyguards did a cleanup of their quarters. Parker took the opportunity to have a workout in the basement gym that had finally been fully set up, Oscar went outside to make sure all of the driveway and walkways were clear of ice and snow, while Rosa started a baking session, making conchas and churros, favourites of the children. Diane, with her Mexican heritage, was familiar with the sweet treats and took the opportunity to ask Rosa about other dishes, comparing the minor differences between how they each prepared them.
"Peri, you didn't tell me that you had a Mexican ancestor," said Rosa, when she joined them. "If I had known, I would have asked you to come to the Día de Los Muertos celebration at the museum in Arlington with us last Saturday. We could have taken the children."
"You're Mexican?" interrupted George, perched on a tall stool at the kitchen island.
"My great-grandmother was," explained Peri. "To be honest the Day of the Dead just slipped my mind."
That brought questions about the day from both kids, so she went to get the tablet, and looked it up for them, showing them pictures of parades in Mexico, the flowers, and all the different examples of sugar skulls. Her mother told them about visiting the cemetery to honour her grandmother, on several Día de Los Muertos while she was growing up. She regretted that she hadn't really passed it on to her children as well as she should have.
"As I got older I kind of left my heritage behind," she explained. "I tried to reconnect to it again when Peri was born by naming her after my grandmother, and learning Mexican cooking but there's so much more."
Rosa looked between the two women.
"Esperanza is my real name," stated Peri. She smiled at Sadie. "It means hope."
"I'm named after my grandma," exclaimed the little girl. "She lives in New Yawk. My name means princess."
"Do you get to see her often?" asked Peri. "I don't think she's come here since I started. Is she away on a long holiday?"
Sadie and George looked sad, not answering. Rosa stopped what she was doing and wiped her hands. She went into the refrigerator and took out some juice boxes, then placed some of the finished churros on a plate and took them and the children into the family room. Turning on the television, she put it on a children's program, turning it up loud. Then she gestured to Peri to come with her into the utility room. Diane followed. At first Rosa wouldn't speak with her present.
"I signed an NDA," stated the older woman. "Whatever you say will stay in here. Why hasn't their grandmother visited? If they were my grandchildren I would be here as much as I could."
"Mrs. Brody is not well." Rosa sighed as she shook her head. "Before Mrs. Barnes died, the children would visit Mrs. Brody in December once the government was off for the holidays, then over the summer the family lived in New York and spent time with her, while Mr. Bucky went back and forth from Washington. Mrs. Brody helped look after the children for a time after Mrs. Barnes died, but she had cancer and couldn't do it anymore. She visited once or twice but became too sick to travel. He took the children with him to live with the Avengers as they had childcare for their other staff but George became upset at the dangers the other Avengers were facing. He feels things too much and it makes him sick with worry, so they came back here. Our employer, a Senator who retired because of poor health, recommended we work for Mr. Bucky." She smiled slightly. "It wasn't hard to love those children, and Oscar and I were happy to look after them but Mrs. Brody told him to get a nanny so that he could get back to work as an Avenger. After the police arrested Miss DeForest, Mr. Bucky tried to do it all himself, as he didn't trust anyone to find the right person, until they found Peri." She smiled warmly at her. "I know that he and the children are much happier with you here."
"Bucky told the children she was away this weekend. That's not the truth, is it?"
Reluctantly, Rosa acknowledged it. "He did video calls for the children to speak with her but she went into a hospice over the summer just before you arrived. In September she decided she didn't want the children to see her this way so they just do regular phone calls now. I think they know she is dying."
"So they haven't seen their grandmother since before the summer?" asked Peri. Rosa nodded. "She's all alone in a hospice?"
"Her other daughter and son visit with her as they live there. Mr. Bucky was planning to take the children to New York at Thanksgiving for them to say goodbye. She isn't expected to live for long after Christmas."
There wasn't much more to be said. It was obvious that Bucky was trying his best to shield his children from his mother-in-law's impending death. It was understandable considering they were still grieving the death of his wife. Although she wished he had said something to her, it wasn't something she could hold against him. Returning to the kitchen, the making of the conchas continued, with Rosa and her mother finishing the task while the kids watched television. Once the baking was done, lunch was prepared and everyone was called when it was ready.
It was soon time to look up the parade on the website of one of the local New York television stations. Peri found it on the tablet and sent it to the television screen. The New York representatives were part of the beginning of the parade, so Peri dialled Bucky's phone number when they saw him while he rode in a World War II army jeep, identifying him as a veteran of that war. With a smile, he answered, then waved to the camera, asking if they could see him. Both kids answered back, making him laugh at his end. A reporter with a cameraman approached the car asking who he was talking and waving to.
"My children," he explained. "They're watching the parade online." He waved again. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Although Sadie eventually lost interest in the parade, playing with her crayons and a colouring book instead, George watched all of it with the others, seeming impressed by the number of soldiers in it, the marching bands, and the different types of military vehicles that were driven in the parade. The three bodyguards, all of them with military service experience, explained the different branches of the military to him, as well as what the different vehicles were used for.
"What's World War II?" he asked. "They said my dad was in that war."
Keith looked at the other two bodyguards, trying to find the words to explain, as they didn't know what Bucky had told him about his past. How do you tell a five and half year old boy that his father is well over a hundred and ten years old and was once a prisoner of war who was used as a weapon?
"Have you ever asked your dad about it?" asked Parker, gently, picking up on the others' reluctance to answer. George shook his head. "Well, some things are meant to be discussed with your dad. I think you should ask him after he gets back."
"But I want to know now."
"I understand that but your dad is the one who wants to tell you. It's his story to tell, not ours."
George frowned but accepted the answer and didn't bring it up for the rest of the day. He did have a nightmare that night, one that woke Peri with his cries and sent her into his room. After sending him to the bathroom to relieve himself and wash his face, she tucked him back in, and sat with him for a while. She came back to her room to find Sadie already in her bed, pretending to be asleep. George showed up five minutes later, saying he couldn't sleep. Patting the other side of the covers, she opened them, saying nothing as he crawled in. Both children clung to her, affecting the quality of her sleep for the rest of the night.
The following morning had some tears, as George said goodbye to Peri's parents at the house before he was driven to school by Keith. Although the five year old was stoic after he cried, he did ask when they were coming back. Parker told him that he hoped it was soon, receiving a hug for that. A short time later, it was time for the couple to go and Sadie cried at the door, while Jacob loaded up their luggage in a smaller vehicle, since he was dropping them off at the airport and coming straight back. Diane lowered herself to Sadie's eye level, brushing her caramel coloured curls out of her face.
"I'll tell you what. If you ask Peri nicely, I'm sure she'll make more video calls so we can talk. Maybe, just maybe, you can come visit us in Scottsdale when it's warmer and we can have a pool party with all of our grandchildren."
"Really?" Peri nodded. Sadie looked back at Diane, with a hopeful face. "Are you my grandma now?"
"Well, I'm not your real grandma but if you want to call me that, I'll be very happy because I think you and your brother are amazing." After hugging the little girl, as well as Rosa and Oscar, they went out to the car with Peri. Jacob said he forgot something and went back inside, giving them privacy.
While embracing her daughter, Diane voiced a question that had to be asked. "Are you okay here?"
Pulling back, Peri looked at her parents, puzzled. "What do you mean?"
Parker put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. "You care about those two kids."
"Of course I do. They're sweet kids. We all care about them."
Her mother breathed out. "They love you but you work for their dad. You're not their family."
Shaking her head, Peri frowned. "What are you getting at? You just told Sadie it was okay to call you Grandma."
"I know," she smiled, then sighed. "I couldn't say no to her, not after what we learned. Those two kids need family, like their grandma, but with her sick they've given their love to the others and now they're giving it to you. My concern is that they may see you as their substitute mother, but by being Bucky's employee that can cause all sorts of problems for you, for him, and especially for those kids."
"I'm not in love with Bucky, if that's what you're worried about," stated Peri. "This weekend was a favour only because he wasn't ready to hire a nanny. He's been very professional in his interactions with me, always a gentleman. I don't understand ...."
Guillermo's words from Saturday came back to her; how the kids loved and trusted her, that she had good parent energy. Were the others seeing something more between her, Bucky, and the kids? Had allowing herself to love those two children opened her and Bucky to accusations of inappropriate behaviour?
"Peri?" Her dad said her name again before she looked at him. "I believe you, but as a representative of the government, Bucky is held to a higher standard than the rest of us. I hate to tell you not to be so affectionate with the kids but if you don't have a firm boundary with them it could expose you both to rumours which could lead to an investigation by the Ethics Committee." There must have been something in the way Peri looked at him because he smiled gently at her. "Look, no rules have been broken, no hearts have been tampered with, and I trust you both to be professional in your dealings. Just ... be careful how much affection you show the kids. They might believe that you are more than an employee."
She nodded and hung her head a little then hugged both of them before they got into the car. As she watched Jacob drive down to the gate, she thought over the implications of what her father said. He was right. She was becoming too affectionate with the children. If she was being honest with herself, she had also found herself watching Bucky when she thought he didn't notice. He was a very handsome man, and kind in ways that touched her deeply. Although she wasn't in love with him, she wasn't indifferent to the possibility. When he returned later that afternoon, she would ask for a meeting and make sure he understood this weekend wasn't meant to be repeated. If there were other times he had to leave for an extended period, he needed to hire an experienced nanny to take on the childcare duties. She had to be firm, to protect herself, and him, as well as the children. That would be the professional thing to do.
As she turned to go back inside, she felt a small twinge in her chest and pressed her hand against it, wondering if it was heartburn or something similar. Ignoring it, she went straight to her office, knowing there was email correspondence waiting for her to go through and print out the most timely ones so Bucky could read the hard copy once he returned and write out his answers. Time to do her job, her real job.
Several hours later, LaGuardia Airport
Bucky sat in the business class lounge with Evan, waiting for their flight to Washington. Because he stayed to take part in the citizenship ceremony that morning, he didn't return to Washington on Monday night with the other representatives. He had to make his own flight arrangements, and with their physical size business class afforded the most leg room. He flicked through the pictures of the children that Peri sent him throughout the weekend, smiling at how much fun they seemed to have.
When he went to visit his mother-in-law at the hospice on Sunday evening, she had been aware enough to look at them with him. The photo of Peri with her arms around the kids as they all laughed at the butterflies that were fluttering in front of them, had prompted her to comment that they seemed happy with her. She suggested that he ask her out if she was a nice person. At the time he had informed her that they couldn't be involved, as Peri was his employee. Still, he couldn't deny that he found himself thinking about her often. What was surprising to him was that he didn't feel guilty about it.
"Looks like they had fun," said Evan, scrolling through his own phone. "Guillermo sent me some pictures. He said he enjoyed taking point at the museums." They were both quiet for a moment, then he found another image and glanced around. "It's really not my place but are you involved with Peri?"
"What do you mean?" Bucky frowned. "She works for me. I can't ask her out, unless she quits or I fire her and I won't do that."
The big man nodded. "I know that but this was on social media this morning. They're screen shots."
They were from a post on a gossip site, with one cellphone shot of Peri holding hands with the kids in the butterfly pavilion. At least the kids' faces were blanked out, protecting their identity. Another shot showed her coming out of the ladies room with her mother and Sadie. The actual caption made Bucky wince.
Is she the nanny or a new girlfriend for widower Representative James Barnes, or both? Already looking after the kids while he parties in the Big Apple?
"Brad hasn't said anything," stated Bucky, defensively. "He would have seen it before you." He looked at Evan then slumped a little. "He did, and sent it to you to ask me first."
"Yeah. After all the good press you got from this weekend Brad didn't want you to think the team were being critical, especially because they know you don't go to parties beyond making a brief appearance in the beginning. They want to get ahead of this." He glanced at the clock. "They should be sending you a statement to approve for your social media before we board."
Almost on cue, his phone signalled the receipt of an email and he opened it, seeing the proposed statement, as well as pictures taken of him at the events he went to, even some from this morning. They would be posted on Bucky's social media in the afternoon.
Representative James Buchanan Barnes spent the Veterans Day weekend in New York, taking part in the annual parade, as well as appearing at events sponsored by the American Legion, at their invitation. A town hall meeting in his district took the remainder of his free time. Representative Barnes devoted his weekend to fulfilling his duties as an elected official as seen in the accompanying images. His children were in the care of trusted employees, and he was in regular contact with them over the weekend.
"That's it? They make no comment about the implication that I have a girlfriend? Doesn't that confirm it to some people?"
Evan shrugged as he read it from Bucky's phone. "I guess officially you don't comment about your personal life. I'm surprised they mentioned the kids. You didn't tell them about visiting Mrs. Brody either. There isn't anything between you and Peri, so there's nothing to comment on."
He stared at the statement, angry that once again someone was questioning him for doing his job. Although the Elle incident had been reported to the Ethics Committee, once the police confirmed the charges against her and her lawyer, a majority had chosen to accept the results of the criminal investigation instead of calling on him to appear before them. The two cellphone pictures taken of Peri and the kids without their knowledge, and the smarmy caption attached to them, might just make some self-righteous member of the committee decide to try again. With a sigh, Bucky emailed his approval of the statement.
Hearing the call for preliminary boarding of their flight, he picked up his carry-on bag and followed Evan to the gate. They settled into their seats and waited for the rest of the passengers to board, smiling politely at anyone that recognized him. It wasn't until they were in the air and his phone was in airplane mode that he realized that whoever took those pictures had recognized his kids which he had gone to great lengths to prevent. He also wondered if Brad had given Peri the heads up on the pictures and the official response. God, he hoped so. This is exactly what he didn't want for her. Hadn't she been through enough?
Part 6>>
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Summary: The weekend goes well for Bucky in New York and Peri in Washington. Just before he returns on Tuesday, they are both reminded that perception is in the eyes of others.
Length: 5.4 K
Characters: Peri, Bucky, her parents, George, Sadie, Guillermo, Evan.
Warnings and other notes: Calm before a storm.
<<Part 4
Since Bucky accepted Peri's offer of help to look after the children for the days he was in New York, her parents suggested getting familiarized with them by video calls. As the subsequent video visits between Diane and Parker Fairmont, and the children became more interactive it evolved to discussing plans about what they could do together on that weekend. The visits helped alleviate any anxieties felt by the children about trusting the older couple.
Aside from those video conversations, the regular routine in the house confirmed that Sadie, who had previously been content with her father's company was becoming insistent on being actively involved with the other adults in the house after George and Bucky left for the day. It was part of her personality as much as George's introversion was part of his. Boardgames with the bodyguard on house duty, or helping Oscar fix things around the house, kept her occupied. Chatting about almost everything with Rosa while she baked, became an exercise in patient multitasking for the older woman. It was obvious they all adored the little girl as she was included on a daily basis without overindulging the sweet child she truly was. Even Peri wasn't immune to Sadie's presence; keeping a cache of art supplies in her office, ready for the almost three and a half year old girl to draw works of art whenever she wanted.
Recalling how her own parents would display their children's masterpieces using an assortment of ready made mattes and frames, Peri placed the finished pieces created by Sadie and also George in the frames and displayed them throughout the main house, including in Rosa and Oscar's private quarters, her own suite, and in the guest house used by the security detail. Whenever Peri switched out one picture in a frame for a newer one, she let the children help with the process.
Now that George no longer felt disloyal to the memory of his mother by allowing himself to like Peri, he also opened up to her. Whether it was during their piano lessons or even when she was otherwise engaged, she always made the time for him, something that Bucky noticed and appreciated.
As the Veterans Day weekend came closer Peri, her parents, and the children arrived at a mutually agreed upon plan. With Bucky leaving on the Saturday morning, they would have the rest of Saturday and all day Sunday free to take in the National Children's Museum, and the National Museum of Natural History. Both institutions were known to have programming appropriate for young children, plus they were places the children were familiar with and loved. While Bucky was in the Veterans Day Parade on the Monday, they would call him by phone when they saw him on the live stream so he could wave at them from the event.
The arrival of Peri's parents at the house on the Friday started well as Sadie immediately took them by the hand to the piano, to show them how she could play music, insisting that Peri's mother, Diane, sit next to her. After receiving some praise, the little girl slid off the piano stool and went to her brother, who was sticking close to Bucky.
"Come, Georgie," she said, taking his hand. "Play Twinkle, Twinkle with me."
He looked up at his father. "It's okay. Go ahead, you can do it."
Diane gave up her place on the bench, while George approached, sitting on the left side to play the lower notes while Sadie was to play the melody. Peri kneeled down beside the pair, murmuring something encouraging to both of them. Looking back at her husband for his reaction, Diane noted how Bucky watched Peri and the children with the softest of expressions. Returning her attention to the piano, she watched and listened as the two played the simple tune, keeping a steady tempo, without any mistakes. After they finished, Sadie got off the bench and curtseyed, getting applause from everyone.
That performance and the reaction set the tone for the whole weekend, and Bucky was able to leave with a clear conscience, accompanied only by Evan, as Mike and Sully had the weekend off. Jacob dropped the rest of them off at the National Children's Museum, then ran some errands for the security team. Guillermo, dressed in casual clothing and without his weapon because of the museum's security screening policy, appeared fairly relaxed, although still alert. After several hours of keeping watch from exhibit to exhibit he sat with Peri on a bench beside an indoor play area while her parents stayed with the children. Reaching inside his jacket, he pulled out a package of Mentos, offering her one.
"Thanks," she said, popping it in her mouth, then grinned. "Strawberry."
He shrugged as he put one in his mouth and sucked on it for a few moments. "Mine's lime. Sadie's favourite is orange. This package has every flavour so it's kind of a fun way to distract her by getting her to guess what the next flavour is."
"She has us all wrapped around her little finger," chuckled Peri.
"Yes, she does and I don't a mind a bit," he replied. He was quiet for a moment. "I'm going to miss her and George." That was an unexpected comment and she turned to look inquiringly at him. "I've been accepted into the training program for the United States Marshals Service. Evan and Bucky recommended me for it. I start in the new year."
"Do the others know?" she asked. He nodded. "The kids?"
"No, Bucky will tell them when he's ready. They'll be okay. They already interviewed someone for my replacement. You're part of the household now and that will help the transition. You've made a difference."
"Yeah? You think so?"
He looked steadily at her. "I know so. Those kids love you. I know George was hostile at first but you handled it right by not trying to force it. He just needed time to trust his own feelings about you. After what they all went through, it's a good thing." He gestured to the play area. "Look at them with your parents. You can tell they're good parents and grandparents. You have the same energy with those kids."
They watched the interaction of the older couple with the children and for a moment, Peri felt such pride that her kids trusted them so quickly. It was several seconds before she realized she had thought of George and Sadie as hers. Swallowing hard, she expelled a quick breath, not saying anything to Guillermo but she looked back at the children, accepting that she did love them. It hadn't been difficult at all to feel motherly about them.
The need for a bathroom break signalled the end of the visit to the museum and Jacob was summoned to pick them up. Both children fell asleep on the car ride home, but only Sadie had to be carried up to her bedroom by Guillermo, leaving Peri to tuck the little girl into her bed for a nap. After dinner, bath time followed for both children. With them in their pyjamas, they spent the evening watching a movie, although neither child made it even halfway through.
Since Peri's parents were sleeping in her suite, she was in one of the bedrooms near the kids. Oscar locked the house up, confirming with Keith by intercom, and the house settled down into its usual quiet state. That lasted until just after 1 am, when Peri heard her bedroom door open and tiny feet padding across the floor to the bed. Lifting her head, she saw Sadie clutching her unicorn stuffy toy.
"I gots scared," she sniffled.
"Come on, sweetie," answered Peri, shifting back and lifting her covers.
The little girl readily climbed in and curled into Peri, with one warm little hand pressed against the skin of her upper chest. When morning came, she found George star-fished but face down under the covers on the other side of the bed. It was a little crowded but she had been through it before with her nieces and nephews when they were little. The fact these two trusted her enough to sleep with her meant a lot.
Bucky checked in with a video call during breakfast, showing the kids his award from the banquet the night before. He listened patiently as Sadie breathlessly told him everything about the children's museum, with George filling in the gaps with some of his own observations. Reminding them to be good for Peri, and to watch the parade the next morning, he asked her to continue the call in her office.
"How were they really?" he asked, once she closed the door. "Any nightmares?"
"Sadie woke me up to say she was scared but she fell right back asleep as soon as she joined me," she answered. "George was on the other side of me when I woke up but he was spread right out so I think he was alright."
"Flat on his stomach?" She nodded. He smirked. "He likely did have a bad dream but sleeping with you made him feel safe. You slept okay?"
"I've had better and worse," she admitted. "How was the banquet?"
He smiled slightly and looked to the side. "About as exciting as you would expect but that's okay. They had some Korean War vets in attendance who were surprisingly charitable towards me, considering I was fighting for the other side then." He clarified. "Not willingly or knowingly but it's a matter of public record. They seemed quite happy that I'm trying to make things right for veterans now. The kids behaved for your parents?"
"Gosh yeah." She hesitated. "Guillermo said they have good grandparent vibes. He told me about him leaving in the new year."
Bucky nodded. "Yeah. He applied before but didn't get through the initial interview process. I'm not one to hold anyone back so I wrote him a recommendation when Evan asked. He'll be an outstanding lawman."
They were quiet for several long moments as he seemed distracted by the view out of his apartment window. Although she tried not to stare, Peri noticed that the outside light coming onto his face made his eyes seem even more blue than usual.
"Well, I better get back out there," she said, unsure what to say otherwise. "We're going to the natural history museum today."
"Make sure you get some pictures of the kids in the butterfly pavilion," replied Bucky, looking directly into the camera once again. "They love that place. Raina took them often." He tilted his head slightly. "Try to take a few selfies of yourself with the kids. It's such a happy feeling to have something so beautiful choose to land on you. Whenever it happened to me I just wanted to laugh."
"I will. Have a good town hall meeting."
"I'll try," he said, then nodded at her before he ended the connection.
The natural history museum was a big hit, especially with the fossil, insect, and butterfly exhibits. The kids asked for pictures of the butterflies on everyone, giggling when Guillermo made googly eyes while a bright blue Morpho butterfly landed on top of his head. They spent much of the day there, and Peri sent Bucky some of the pictures. Gradually, Sadie became over stimulated and began to cry at everything. She wanted to walk, then to be carried only by Peri, and demanding to hold her hand in the large SUV when they decided to go home. They had to reposition the car seats so Peri could sit next to her. Within five minutes of starting the trip home, Sadie fell asleep and stayed asleep even as she was carried up to her room again.
"Could see that coming," said Parker, grinning. "She went all out. Once she has that nap, she'll be fine."
With no school on the Monday, George was allowed to stay up longer after dinner, playing Mario video games. He persuaded Diane and Parker to play against him and Jacob, while Peri and Rosa painted Sadie's nails with pink nail polish, and applied a temporary butterfly tattoo on her arm. Once her nails were dry, she went readily to bed, where she stayed until shortly after 1 am, climbing into Peri's bed as she clutched her unicorn stuffy toy. George was also there in the morning with both of them, sprawled on his stomach. As Peri lay quietly with the sleeping children on either side of her, she silently laughed at the sense of contentment she felt crowded into the bed with Sadie and George.
Since the Veterans Day parade was scheduled for early Monday afternoon, everyone spent the morning in various ways. The three bodyguards did a cleanup of their quarters. Parker took the opportunity to have a workout in the basement gym that had finally been fully set up, Oscar went outside to make sure all of the driveway and walkways were clear of ice and snow, while Rosa started a baking session, making conchas and churros, favourites of the children. Diane, with her Mexican heritage, was familiar with the sweet treats and took the opportunity to ask Rosa about other dishes, comparing the minor differences between how they each prepared them.
"Peri, you didn't tell me that you had a Mexican ancestor," said Rosa, when she joined them. "If I had known, I would have asked you to come to the Día de Los Muertos celebration at the museum in Arlington with us last Saturday. We could have taken the children."
"You're Mexican?" interrupted George, perched on a tall stool at the kitchen island.
"My great-grandmother was," explained Peri. "To be honest the Day of the Dead just slipped my mind."
That brought questions about the day from both kids, so she went to get the tablet, and looked it up for them, showing them pictures of parades in Mexico, the flowers, and all the different examples of sugar skulls. Her mother told them about visiting the cemetery to honour her grandmother, on several Día de Los Muertos while she was growing up. She regretted that she hadn't really passed it on to her children as well as she should have.
"As I got older I kind of left my heritage behind," she explained. "I tried to reconnect to it again when Peri was born by naming her after my grandmother, and learning Mexican cooking but there's so much more."
Rosa looked between the two women.
"Esperanza is my real name," stated Peri. She smiled at Sadie. "It means hope."
"I'm named after my grandma," exclaimed the little girl. "She lives in New Yawk. My name means princess."
"Do you get to see her often?" asked Peri. "I don't think she's come here since I started. Is she away on a long holiday?"
Sadie and George looked sad, not answering. Rosa stopped what she was doing and wiped her hands. She went into the refrigerator and took out some juice boxes, then placed some of the finished churros on a plate and took them and the children into the family room. Turning on the television, she put it on a children's program, turning it up loud. Then she gestured to Peri to come with her into the utility room. Diane followed. At first Rosa wouldn't speak with her present.
"I signed an NDA," stated the older woman. "Whatever you say will stay in here. Why hasn't their grandmother visited? If they were my grandchildren I would be here as much as I could."
"Mrs. Brody is not well." Rosa sighed as she shook her head. "Before Mrs. Barnes died, the children would visit Mrs. Brody in December once the government was off for the holidays, then over the summer the family lived in New York and spent time with her, while Mr. Bucky went back and forth from Washington. Mrs. Brody helped look after the children for a time after Mrs. Barnes died, but she had cancer and couldn't do it anymore. She visited once or twice but became too sick to travel. He took the children with him to live with the Avengers as they had childcare for their other staff but George became upset at the dangers the other Avengers were facing. He feels things too much and it makes him sick with worry, so they came back here. Our employer, a Senator who retired because of poor health, recommended we work for Mr. Bucky." She smiled slightly. "It wasn't hard to love those children, and Oscar and I were happy to look after them but Mrs. Brody told him to get a nanny so that he could get back to work as an Avenger. After the police arrested Miss DeForest, Mr. Bucky tried to do it all himself, as he didn't trust anyone to find the right person, until they found Peri." She smiled warmly at her. "I know that he and the children are much happier with you here."
"Bucky told the children she was away this weekend. That's not the truth, is it?"
Reluctantly, Rosa acknowledged it. "He did video calls for the children to speak with her but she went into a hospice over the summer just before you arrived. In September she decided she didn't want the children to see her this way so they just do regular phone calls now. I think they know she is dying."
"So they haven't seen their grandmother since before the summer?" asked Peri. Rosa nodded. "She's all alone in a hospice?"
"Her other daughter and son visit with her as they live there. Mr. Bucky was planning to take the children to New York at Thanksgiving for them to say goodbye. She isn't expected to live for long after Christmas."
There wasn't much more to be said. It was obvious that Bucky was trying his best to shield his children from his mother-in-law's impending death. It was understandable considering they were still grieving the death of his wife. Although she wished he had said something to her, it wasn't something she could hold against him. Returning to the kitchen, the making of the conchas continued, with Rosa and her mother finishing the task while the kids watched television. Once the baking was done, lunch was prepared and everyone was called when it was ready.
It was soon time to look up the parade on the website of one of the local New York television stations. Peri found it on the tablet and sent it to the television screen. The New York representatives were part of the beginning of the parade, so Peri dialled Bucky's phone number when they saw him while he rode in a World War II army jeep, identifying him as a veteran of that war. With a smile, he answered, then waved to the camera, asking if they could see him. Both kids answered back, making him laugh at his end. A reporter with a cameraman approached the car asking who he was talking and waving to.
"My children," he explained. "They're watching the parade online." He waved again. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Although Sadie eventually lost interest in the parade, playing with her crayons and a colouring book instead, George watched all of it with the others, seeming impressed by the number of soldiers in it, the marching bands, and the different types of military vehicles that were driven in the parade. The three bodyguards, all of them with military service experience, explained the different branches of the military to him, as well as what the different vehicles were used for.
"What's World War II?" he asked. "They said my dad was in that war."
Keith looked at the other two bodyguards, trying to find the words to explain, as they didn't know what Bucky had told him about his past. How do you tell a five and half year old boy that his father is well over a hundred and ten years old and was once a prisoner of war who was used as a weapon?
"Have you ever asked your dad about it?" asked Parker, gently, picking up on the others' reluctance to answer. George shook his head. "Well, some things are meant to be discussed with your dad. I think you should ask him after he gets back."
"But I want to know now."
"I understand that but your dad is the one who wants to tell you. It's his story to tell, not ours."
George frowned but accepted the answer and didn't bring it up for the rest of the day. He did have a nightmare that night, one that woke Peri with his cries and sent her into his room. After sending him to the bathroom to relieve himself and wash his face, she tucked him back in, and sat with him for a while. She came back to her room to find Sadie already in her bed, pretending to be asleep. George showed up five minutes later, saying he couldn't sleep. Patting the other side of the covers, she opened them, saying nothing as he crawled in. Both children clung to her, affecting the quality of her sleep for the rest of the night.
The following morning had some tears, as George said goodbye to Peri's parents at the house before he was driven to school by Keith. Although the five year old was stoic after he cried, he did ask when they were coming back. Parker told him that he hoped it was soon, receiving a hug for that. A short time later, it was time for the couple to go and Sadie cried at the door, while Jacob loaded up their luggage in a smaller vehicle, since he was dropping them off at the airport and coming straight back. Diane lowered herself to Sadie's eye level, brushing her caramel coloured curls out of her face.
"I'll tell you what. If you ask Peri nicely, I'm sure she'll make more video calls so we can talk. Maybe, just maybe, you can come visit us in Scottsdale when it's warmer and we can have a pool party with all of our grandchildren."
"Really?" Peri nodded. Sadie looked back at Diane, with a hopeful face. "Are you my grandma now?"
"Well, I'm not your real grandma but if you want to call me that, I'll be very happy because I think you and your brother are amazing." After hugging the little girl, as well as Rosa and Oscar, they went out to the car with Peri. Jacob said he forgot something and went back inside, giving them privacy.
While embracing her daughter, Diane voiced a question that had to be asked. "Are you okay here?"
Pulling back, Peri looked at her parents, puzzled. "What do you mean?"
Parker put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. "You care about those two kids."
"Of course I do. They're sweet kids. We all care about them."
Her mother breathed out. "They love you but you work for their dad. You're not their family."
Shaking her head, Peri frowned. "What are you getting at? You just told Sadie it was okay to call you Grandma."
"I know," she smiled, then sighed. "I couldn't say no to her, not after what we learned. Those two kids need family, like their grandma, but with her sick they've given their love to the others and now they're giving it to you. My concern is that they may see you as their substitute mother, but by being Bucky's employee that can cause all sorts of problems for you, for him, and especially for those kids."
"I'm not in love with Bucky, if that's what you're worried about," stated Peri. "This weekend was a favour only because he wasn't ready to hire a nanny. He's been very professional in his interactions with me, always a gentleman. I don't understand ...."
Guillermo's words from Saturday came back to her; how the kids loved and trusted her, that she had good parent energy. Were the others seeing something more between her, Bucky, and the kids? Had allowing herself to love those two children opened her and Bucky to accusations of inappropriate behaviour?
"Peri?" Her dad said her name again before she looked at him. "I believe you, but as a representative of the government, Bucky is held to a higher standard than the rest of us. I hate to tell you not to be so affectionate with the kids but if you don't have a firm boundary with them it could expose you both to rumours which could lead to an investigation by the Ethics Committee." There must have been something in the way Peri looked at him because he smiled gently at her. "Look, no rules have been broken, no hearts have been tampered with, and I trust you both to be professional in your dealings. Just ... be careful how much affection you show the kids. They might believe that you are more than an employee."
She nodded and hung her head a little then hugged both of them before they got into the car. As she watched Jacob drive down to the gate, she thought over the implications of what her father said. He was right. She was becoming too affectionate with the children. If she was being honest with herself, she had also found herself watching Bucky when she thought he didn't notice. He was a very handsome man, and kind in ways that touched her deeply. Although she wasn't in love with him, she wasn't indifferent to the possibility. When he returned later that afternoon, she would ask for a meeting and make sure he understood this weekend wasn't meant to be repeated. If there were other times he had to leave for an extended period, he needed to hire an experienced nanny to take on the childcare duties. She had to be firm, to protect herself, and him, as well as the children. That would be the professional thing to do.
As she turned to go back inside, she felt a small twinge in her chest and pressed her hand against it, wondering if it was heartburn or something similar. Ignoring it, she went straight to her office, knowing there was email correspondence waiting for her to go through and print out the most timely ones so Bucky could read the hard copy once he returned and write out his answers. Time to do her job, her real job.
Several hours later, LaGuardia Airport
Bucky sat in the business class lounge with Evan, waiting for their flight to Washington. Because he stayed to take part in the citizenship ceremony that morning, he didn't return to Washington on Monday night with the other representatives. He had to make his own flight arrangements, and with their physical size business class afforded the most leg room. He flicked through the pictures of the children that Peri sent him throughout the weekend, smiling at how much fun they seemed to have.
When he went to visit his mother-in-law at the hospice on Sunday evening, she had been aware enough to look at them with him. The photo of Peri with her arms around the kids as they all laughed at the butterflies that were fluttering in front of them, had prompted her to comment that they seemed happy with her. She suggested that he ask her out if she was a nice person. At the time he had informed her that they couldn't be involved, as Peri was his employee. Still, he couldn't deny that he found himself thinking about her often. What was surprising to him was that he didn't feel guilty about it.
"Looks like they had fun," said Evan, scrolling through his own phone. "Guillermo sent me some pictures. He said he enjoyed taking point at the museums." They were both quiet for a moment, then he found another image and glanced around. "It's really not my place but are you involved with Peri?"
"What do you mean?" Bucky frowned. "She works for me. I can't ask her out, unless she quits or I fire her and I won't do that."
The big man nodded. "I know that but this was on social media this morning. They're screen shots."
They were from a post on a gossip site, with one cellphone shot of Peri holding hands with the kids in the butterfly pavilion. At least the kids' faces were blanked out, protecting their identity. Another shot showed her coming out of the ladies room with her mother and Sadie. The actual caption made Bucky wince.
Is she the nanny or a new girlfriend for widower Representative James Barnes, or both? Already looking after the kids while he parties in the Big Apple?
"Brad hasn't said anything," stated Bucky, defensively. "He would have seen it before you." He looked at Evan then slumped a little. "He did, and sent it to you to ask me first."
"Yeah. After all the good press you got from this weekend Brad didn't want you to think the team were being critical, especially because they know you don't go to parties beyond making a brief appearance in the beginning. They want to get ahead of this." He glanced at the clock. "They should be sending you a statement to approve for your social media before we board."
Almost on cue, his phone signalled the receipt of an email and he opened it, seeing the proposed statement, as well as pictures taken of him at the events he went to, even some from this morning. They would be posted on Bucky's social media in the afternoon.
Representative James Buchanan Barnes spent the Veterans Day weekend in New York, taking part in the annual parade, as well as appearing at events sponsored by the American Legion, at their invitation. A town hall meeting in his district took the remainder of his free time. Representative Barnes devoted his weekend to fulfilling his duties as an elected official as seen in the accompanying images. His children were in the care of trusted employees, and he was in regular contact with them over the weekend.
"That's it? They make no comment about the implication that I have a girlfriend? Doesn't that confirm it to some people?"
Evan shrugged as he read it from Bucky's phone. "I guess officially you don't comment about your personal life. I'm surprised they mentioned the kids. You didn't tell them about visiting Mrs. Brody either. There isn't anything between you and Peri, so there's nothing to comment on."
He stared at the statement, angry that once again someone was questioning him for doing his job. Although the Elle incident had been reported to the Ethics Committee, once the police confirmed the charges against her and her lawyer, a majority had chosen to accept the results of the criminal investigation instead of calling on him to appear before them. The two cellphone pictures taken of Peri and the kids without their knowledge, and the smarmy caption attached to them, might just make some self-righteous member of the committee decide to try again. With a sigh, Bucky emailed his approval of the statement.
Hearing the call for preliminary boarding of their flight, he picked up his carry-on bag and followed Evan to the gate. They settled into their seats and waited for the rest of the passengers to board, smiling politely at anyone that recognized him. It wasn't until they were in the air and his phone was in airplane mode that he realized that whoever took those pictures had recognized his kids which he had gone to great lengths to prevent. He also wondered if Brad had given Peri the heads up on the pictures and the official response. God, he hoped so. This is exactly what he didn't want for her. Hadn't she been through enough?
Part 6>>
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Summary: The weekend goes well for Bucky in New York and Peri in Washington. Just before he returns on Tuesday, they are both reminded that perception is in the eyes of others.
Length: 5.4 K
Characters: Peri, Bucky, her parents, George, Sadie, Guillermo, Evan.
Warnings and other notes: Calm before a storm.
<<Part 4
Since Bucky accepted Peri's offer of help to look after the children for the days he was in New York, her parents suggested getting familiarized with them by video calls. As the subsequent video visits between Diane and Parker Fairmont, and the children became more interactive it evolved to discussing plans about what they could do together on that weekend. The visits helped alleviate any anxieties felt by the children about trusting the older couple.
Aside from those video conversations, the regular routine in the house confirmed that Sadie, who had previously been content with her father's company was becoming insistent on being actively involved with the other adults in the house after George and Bucky left for the day. It was part of her personality as much as George's introversion was part of his. Boardgames with the bodyguard on house duty, or helping Oscar fix things around the house, kept her occupied. Chatting about almost everything with Rosa while she baked, became an exercise in patient multitasking for the older woman. It was obvious they all adored the little girl as she was included on a daily basis without overindulging the sweet child she truly was. Even Peri wasn't immune to Sadie's presence; keeping a cache of art supplies in her office, ready for the almost three and a half year old girl to draw works of art whenever she wanted.
Recalling how her own parents would display their children's masterpieces using an assortment of ready made mattes and frames, Peri placed the finished pieces created by Sadie and also George in the frames and displayed them throughout the main house, including in Rosa and Oscar's private quarters, her own suite, and in the guest house used by the security detail. Whenever Peri switched out one picture in a frame for a newer one, she let the children help with the process.
Now that George no longer felt disloyal to the memory of his mother by allowing himself to like Peri, he also opened up to her. Whether it was during their piano lessons or even when she was otherwise engaged, she always made the time for him, something that Bucky noticed and appreciated.
As the Veterans Day weekend came closer Peri, her parents, and the children arrived at a mutually agreed upon plan. With Bucky leaving on the Saturday morning, they would have the rest of Saturday and all day Sunday free to take in the National Children's Museum, and the National Museum of Natural History. Both institutions were known to have programming appropriate for young children, plus they were places the children were familiar with and loved. While Bucky was in the Veterans Day Parade on the Monday, they would call him by phone when they saw him on the live stream so he could wave at them from the event.
The arrival of Peri's parents at the house on the Friday started well as Sadie immediately took them by the hand to the piano, to show them how she could play music, insisting that Peri's mother, Diane, sit next to her. After receiving some praise, the little girl slid off the piano stool and went to her brother, who was sticking close to Bucky.
"Come, Georgie," she said, taking his hand. "Play Twinkle, Twinkle with me."
He looked up at his father. "It's okay. Go ahead, you can do it."
Diane gave up her place on the bench, while George approached, sitting on the left side to play the lower notes while Sadie was to play the melody. Peri kneeled down beside the pair, murmuring something encouraging to both of them. Looking back at her husband for his reaction, Diane noted how Bucky watched Peri and the children with the softest of expressions. Returning her attention to the piano, she watched and listened as the two played the simple tune, keeping a steady tempo, without any mistakes. After they finished, Sadie got off the bench and curtseyed, getting applause from everyone.
That performance and the reaction set the tone for the whole weekend, and Bucky was able to leave with a clear conscience, accompanied only by Evan, as Mike and Sully had the weekend off. Jacob dropped the rest of them off at the National Children's Museum, then ran some errands for the security team. Guillermo, dressed in casual clothing and without his weapon because of the museum's security screening policy, appeared fairly relaxed, although still alert. After several hours of keeping watch from exhibit to exhibit he sat with Peri on a bench beside an indoor play area while her parents stayed with the children. Reaching inside his jacket, he pulled out a package of Mentos, offering her one.
"Thanks," she said, popping it in her mouth, then grinned. "Strawberry."
He shrugged as he put one in his mouth and sucked on it for a few moments. "Mine's lime. Sadie's favourite is orange. This package has every flavour so it's kind of a fun way to distract her by getting her to guess what the next flavour is."
"She has us all wrapped around her little finger," chuckled Peri.
"Yes, she does and I don't a mind a bit," he replied. He was quiet for a moment. "I'm going to miss her and George." That was an unexpected comment and she turned to look inquiringly at him. "I've been accepted into the training program for the United States Marshals Service. Evan and Bucky recommended me for it. I start in the new year."
"Do the others know?" she asked. He nodded. "The kids?"
"No, Bucky will tell them when he's ready. They'll be okay. They already interviewed someone for my replacement. You're part of the household now and that will help the transition. You've made a difference."
"Yeah? You think so?"
He looked steadily at her. "I know so. Those kids love you. I know George was hostile at first but you handled it right by not trying to force it. He just needed time to trust his own feelings about you. After what they all went through, it's a good thing." He gestured to the play area. "Look at them with your parents. You can tell they're good parents and grandparents. You have the same energy with those kids."
They watched the interaction of the older couple with the children and for a moment, Peri felt such pride that her kids trusted them so quickly. It was several seconds before she realized she had thought of George and Sadie as hers. Swallowing hard, she expelled a quick breath, not saying anything to Guillermo but she looked back at the children, accepting that she did love them. It hadn't been difficult at all to feel motherly about them.
The need for a bathroom break signalled the end of the visit to the museum and Jacob was summoned to pick them up. Both children fell asleep on the car ride home, but only Sadie had to be carried up to her bedroom by Guillermo, leaving Peri to tuck the little girl into her bed for a nap. After dinner, bath time followed for both children. With them in their pyjamas, they spent the evening watching a movie, although neither child made it even halfway through.
Since Peri's parents were sleeping in her suite, she was in one of the bedrooms near the kids. Oscar locked the house up, confirming with Keith by intercom, and the house settled down into its usual quiet state. That lasted until just after 1 am, when Peri heard her bedroom door open and tiny feet padding across the floor to the bed. Lifting her head, she saw Sadie clutching her unicorn stuffy toy.
"I gots scared," she sniffled.
"Come on, sweetie," answered Peri, shifting back and lifting her covers.
The little girl readily climbed in and curled into Peri, with one warm little hand pressed against the skin of her upper chest. When morning came, she found George star-fished but face down under the covers on the other side of the bed. It was a little crowded but she had been through it before with her nieces and nephews when they were little. The fact these two trusted her enough to sleep with her meant a lot.
Bucky checked in with a video call during breakfast, showing the kids his award from the banquet the night before. He listened patiently as Sadie breathlessly told him everything about the children's museum, with George filling in the gaps with some of his own observations. Reminding them to be good for Peri, and to watch the parade the next morning, he asked her to continue the call in her office.
"How were they really?" he asked, once she closed the door. "Any nightmares?"
"Sadie woke me up to say she was scared but she fell right back asleep as soon as she joined me," she answered. "George was on the other side of me when I woke up but he was spread right out so I think he was alright."
"Flat on his stomach?" She nodded. He smirked. "He likely did have a bad dream but sleeping with you made him feel safe. You slept okay?"
"I've had better and worse," she admitted. "How was the banquet?"
He smiled slightly and looked to the side. "About as exciting as you would expect but that's okay. They had some Korean War vets in attendance who were surprisingly charitable towards me, considering I was fighting for the other side then." He clarified. "Not willingly or knowingly but it's a matter of public record. They seemed quite happy that I'm trying to make things right for veterans now. The kids behaved for your parents?"
"Gosh yeah." She hesitated. "Guillermo said they have good grandparent vibes. He told me about him leaving in the new year."
Bucky nodded. "Yeah. He applied before but didn't get through the initial interview process. I'm not one to hold anyone back so I wrote him a recommendation when Evan asked. He'll be an outstanding lawman."
They were quiet for several long moments as he seemed distracted by the view out of his apartment window. Although she tried not to stare, Peri noticed that the outside light coming onto his face made his eyes seem even more blue than usual.
"Well, I better get back out there," she said, unsure what to say otherwise. "We're going to the natural history museum today."
"Make sure you get some pictures of the kids in the butterfly pavilion," replied Bucky, looking directly into the camera once again. "They love that place. Raina took them often." He tilted his head slightly. "Try to take a few selfies of yourself with the kids. It's such a happy feeling to have something so beautiful choose to land on you. Whenever it happened to me I just wanted to laugh."
"I will. Have a good town hall meeting."
"I'll try," he said, then nodded at her before he ended the connection.
The natural history museum was a big hit, especially with the fossil, insect, and butterfly exhibits. The kids asked for pictures of the butterflies on everyone, giggling when Guillermo made googly eyes while a bright blue Morpho butterfly landed on top of his head. They spent much of the day there, and Peri sent Bucky some of the pictures. Gradually, Sadie became over stimulated and began to cry at everything. She wanted to walk, then to be carried only by Peri, and demanding to hold her hand in the large SUV when they decided to go home. They had to reposition the car seats so Peri could sit next to her. Within five minutes of starting the trip home, Sadie fell asleep and stayed asleep even as she was carried up to her room again.
"Could see that coming," said Parker, grinning. "She went all out. Once she has that nap, she'll be fine."
With no school on the Monday, George was allowed to stay up longer after dinner, playing Mario video games. He persuaded Diane and Parker to play against him and Jacob, while Peri and Rosa painted Sadie's nails with pink nail polish, and applied a temporary butterfly tattoo on her arm. Once her nails were dry, she went readily to bed, where she stayed until shortly after 1 am, climbing into Peri's bed as she clutched her unicorn stuffy toy. George was also there in the morning with both of them, sprawled on his stomach. As Peri lay quietly with the sleeping children on either side of her, she silently laughed at the sense of contentment she felt crowded into the bed with Sadie and George.
Since the Veterans Day parade was scheduled for early Monday afternoon, everyone spent the morning in various ways. The three bodyguards did a cleanup of their quarters. Parker took the opportunity to have a workout in the basement gym that had finally been fully set up, Oscar went outside to make sure all of the driveway and walkways were clear of ice and snow, while Rosa started a baking session, making conchas and churros, favourites of the children. Diane, with her Mexican heritage, was familiar with the sweet treats and took the opportunity to ask Rosa about other dishes, comparing the minor differences between how they each prepared them.
"Peri, you didn't tell me that you had a Mexican ancestor," said Rosa, when she joined them. "If I had known, I would have asked you to come to the Día de Los Muertos celebration at the museum in Arlington with us last Saturday. We could have taken the children."
"You're Mexican?" interrupted George, perched on a tall stool at the kitchen island.
"My great-grandmother was," explained Peri. "To be honest the Day of the Dead just slipped my mind."
That brought questions about the day from both kids, so she went to get the tablet, and looked it up for them, showing them pictures of parades in Mexico, the flowers, and all the different examples of sugar skulls. Her mother told them about visiting the cemetery to honour her grandmother, on several Día de Los Muertos while she was growing up. She regretted that she hadn't really passed it on to her children as well as she should have.
"As I got older I kind of left my heritage behind," she explained. "I tried to reconnect to it again when Peri was born by naming her after my grandmother, and learning Mexican cooking but there's so much more."
Rosa looked between the two women.
"Esperanza is my real name," stated Peri. She smiled at Sadie. "It means hope."
"I'm named after my grandma," exclaimed the little girl. "She lives in New Yawk. My name means princess."
"Do you get to see her often?" asked Peri. "I don't think she's come here since I started. Is she away on a long holiday?"
Sadie and George looked sad, not answering. Rosa stopped what she was doing and wiped her hands. She went into the refrigerator and took out some juice boxes, then placed some of the finished churros on a plate and took them and the children into the family room. Turning on the television, she put it on a children's program, turning it up loud. Then she gestured to Peri to come with her into the utility room. Diane followed. At first Rosa wouldn't speak with her present.
"I signed an NDA," stated the older woman. "Whatever you say will stay in here. Why hasn't their grandmother visited? If they were my grandchildren I would be here as much as I could."
"Mrs. Brody is not well." Rosa sighed as she shook her head. "Before Mrs. Barnes died, the children would visit Mrs. Brody in December once the government was off for the holidays, then over the summer the family lived in New York and spent time with her, while Mr. Bucky went back and forth from Washington. Mrs. Brody helped look after the children for a time after Mrs. Barnes died, but she had cancer and couldn't do it anymore. She visited once or twice but became too sick to travel. He took the children with him to live with the Avengers as they had childcare for their other staff but George became upset at the dangers the other Avengers were facing. He feels things too much and it makes him sick with worry, so they came back here. Our employer, a Senator who retired because of poor health, recommended we work for Mr. Bucky." She smiled slightly. "It wasn't hard to love those children, and Oscar and I were happy to look after them but Mrs. Brody told him to get a nanny so that he could get back to work as an Avenger. After the police arrested Miss DeForest, Mr. Bucky tried to do it all himself, as he didn't trust anyone to find the right person, until they found Peri." She smiled warmly at her. "I know that he and the children are much happier with you here."
"Bucky told the children she was away this weekend. That's not the truth, is it?"
Reluctantly, Rosa acknowledged it. "He did video calls for the children to speak with her but she went into a hospice over the summer just before you arrived. In September she decided she didn't want the children to see her this way so they just do regular phone calls now. I think they know she is dying."
"So they haven't seen their grandmother since before the summer?" asked Peri. Rosa nodded. "She's all alone in a hospice?"
"Her other daughter and son visit with her as they live there. Mr. Bucky was planning to take the children to New York at Thanksgiving for them to say goodbye. She isn't expected to live for long after Christmas."
There wasn't much more to be said. It was obvious that Bucky was trying his best to shield his children from his mother-in-law's impending death. It was understandable considering they were still grieving the death of his wife. Although she wished he had said something to her, it wasn't something she could hold against him. Returning to the kitchen, the making of the conchas continued, with Rosa and her mother finishing the task while the kids watched television. Once the baking was done, lunch was prepared and everyone was called when it was ready.
It was soon time to look up the parade on the website of one of the local New York television stations. Peri found it on the tablet and sent it to the television screen. The New York representatives were part of the beginning of the parade, so Peri dialled Bucky's phone number when they saw him while he rode in a World War II army jeep, identifying him as a veteran of that war. With a smile, he answered, then waved to the camera, asking if they could see him. Both kids answered back, making him laugh at his end. A reporter with a cameraman approached the car asking who he was talking and waving to.
"My children," he explained. "They're watching the parade online." He waved again. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Although Sadie eventually lost interest in the parade, playing with her crayons and a colouring book instead, George watched all of it with the others, seeming impressed by the number of soldiers in it, the marching bands, and the different types of military vehicles that were driven in the parade. The three bodyguards, all of them with military service experience, explained the different branches of the military to him, as well as what the different vehicles were used for.
"What's World War II?" he asked. "They said my dad was in that war."
Keith looked at the other two bodyguards, trying to find the words to explain, as they didn't know what Bucky had told him about his past. How do you tell a five and half year old boy that his father is well over a hundred and ten years old and was once a prisoner of war who was used as a weapon?
"Have you ever asked your dad about it?" asked Parker, gently, picking up on the others' reluctance to answer. George shook his head. "Well, some things are meant to be discussed with your dad. I think you should ask him after he gets back."
"But I want to know now."
"I understand that but your dad is the one who wants to tell you. It's his story to tell, not ours."
George frowned but accepted the answer and didn't bring it up for the rest of the day. He did have a nightmare that night, one that woke Peri with his cries and sent her into his room. After sending him to the bathroom to relieve himself and wash his face, she tucked him back in, and sat with him for a while. She came back to her room to find Sadie already in her bed, pretending to be asleep. George showed up five minutes later, saying he couldn't sleep. Patting the other side of the covers, she opened them, saying nothing as he crawled in. Both children clung to her, affecting the quality of her sleep for the rest of the night.
The following morning had some tears, as George said goodbye to Peri's parents at the house before he was driven to school by Keith. Although the five year old was stoic after he cried, he did ask when they were coming back. Parker told him that he hoped it was soon, receiving a hug for that. A short time later, it was time for the couple to go and Sadie cried at the door, while Jacob loaded up their luggage in a smaller vehicle, since he was dropping them off at the airport and coming straight back. Diane lowered herself to Sadie's eye level, brushing her caramel coloured curls out of her face.
"I'll tell you what. If you ask Peri nicely, I'm sure she'll make more video calls so we can talk. Maybe, just maybe, you can come visit us in Scottsdale when it's warmer and we can have a pool party with all of our grandchildren."
"Really?" Peri nodded. Sadie looked back at Diane, with a hopeful face. "Are you my grandma now?"
"Well, I'm not your real grandma but if you want to call me that, I'll be very happy because I think you and your brother are amazing." After hugging the little girl, as well as Rosa and Oscar, they went out to the car with Peri. Jacob said he forgot something and went back inside, giving them privacy.
While embracing her daughter, Diane voiced a question that had to be asked. "Are you okay here?"
Pulling back, Peri looked at her parents, puzzled. "What do you mean?"
Parker put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. "You care about those two kids."
"Of course I do. They're sweet kids. We all care about them."
Her mother breathed out. "They love you but you work for their dad. You're not their family."
Shaking her head, Peri frowned. "What are you getting at? You just told Sadie it was okay to call you Grandma."
"I know," she smiled, then sighed. "I couldn't say no to her, not after what we learned. Those two kids need family, like their grandma, but with her sick they've given their love to the others and now they're giving it to you. My concern is that they may see you as their substitute mother, but by being Bucky's employee that can cause all sorts of problems for you, for him, and especially for those kids."
"I'm not in love with Bucky, if that's what you're worried about," stated Peri. "This weekend was a favour only because he wasn't ready to hire a nanny. He's been very professional in his interactions with me, always a gentleman. I don't understand ...."
Guillermo's words from Saturday came back to her; how the kids loved and trusted her, that she had good parent energy. Were the others seeing something more between her, Bucky, and the kids? Had allowing herself to love those two children opened her and Bucky to accusations of inappropriate behaviour?
"Peri?" Her dad said her name again before she looked at him. "I believe you, but as a representative of the government, Bucky is held to a higher standard than the rest of us. I hate to tell you not to be so affectionate with the kids but if you don't have a firm boundary with them it could expose you both to rumours which could lead to an investigation by the Ethics Committee." There must have been something in the way Peri looked at him because he smiled gently at her. "Look, no rules have been broken, no hearts have been tampered with, and I trust you both to be professional in your dealings. Just ... be careful how much affection you show the kids. They might believe that you are more than an employee."
She nodded and hung her head a little then hugged both of them before they got into the car. As she watched Jacob drive down to the gate, she thought over the implications of what her father said. He was right. She was becoming too affectionate with the children. If she was being honest with herself, she had also found herself watching Bucky when she thought he didn't notice. He was a very handsome man, and kind in ways that touched her deeply. Although she wasn't in love with him, she wasn't indifferent to the possibility. When he returned later that afternoon, she would ask for a meeting and make sure he understood this weekend wasn't meant to be repeated. If there were other times he had to leave for an extended period, he needed to hire an experienced nanny to take on the childcare duties. She had to be firm, to protect herself, and him, as well as the children. That would be the professional thing to do.
As she turned to go back inside, she felt a small twinge in her chest and pressed her hand against it, wondering if it was heartburn or something similar. Ignoring it, she went straight to her office, knowing there was email correspondence waiting for her to go through and print out the most timely ones so Bucky could read the hard copy once he returned and write out his answers. Time to do her job, her real job.
Several hours later, LaGuardia Airport
Bucky sat in the business class lounge with Evan, waiting for their flight to Washington. Because he stayed to take part in the citizenship ceremony that morning, he didn't return to Washington on Monday night with the other representatives. He had to make his own flight arrangements, and with their physical size business class afforded the most leg room. He flicked through the pictures of the children that Peri sent him throughout the weekend, smiling at how much fun they seemed to have.
When he went to visit his mother-in-law at the hospice on Sunday evening, she had been aware enough to look at them with him. The photo of Peri with her arms around the kids as they all laughed at the butterflies that were fluttering in front of them, had prompted her to comment that they seemed happy with her. She suggested that he ask her out if she was a nice person. At the time he had informed her that they couldn't be involved, as Peri was his employee. Still, he couldn't deny that he found himself thinking about her often. What was surprising to him was that he didn't feel guilty about it.
"Looks like they had fun," said Evan, scrolling through his own phone. "Guillermo sent me some pictures. He said he enjoyed taking point at the museums." They were both quiet for a moment, then he found another image and glanced around. "It's really not my place but are you involved with Peri?"
"What do you mean?" Bucky frowned. "She works for me. I can't ask her out, unless she quits or I fire her and I won't do that."
The big man nodded. "I know that but this was on social media this morning. They're screen shots."
They were from a post on a gossip site, with one cellphone shot of Peri holding hands with the kids in the butterfly pavilion. At least the kids' faces were blanked out, protecting their identity. Another shot showed her coming out of the ladies room with her mother and Sadie. The actual caption made Bucky wince.
Is she the nanny or a new girlfriend for widower Representative James Barnes, or both? Already looking after the kids while he parties in the Big Apple?
"Brad hasn't said anything," stated Bucky, defensively. "He would have seen it before you." He looked at Evan then slumped a little. "He did, and sent it to you to ask me first."
"Yeah. After all the good press you got from this weekend Brad didn't want you to think the team were being critical, especially because they know you don't go to parties beyond making a brief appearance in the beginning. They want to get ahead of this." He glanced at the clock. "They should be sending you a statement to approve for your social media before we board."
Almost on cue, his phone signalled the receipt of an email and he opened it, seeing the proposed statement, as well as pictures taken of him at the events he went to, even some from this morning. They would be posted on Bucky's social media in the afternoon.
Representative James Buchanan Barnes spent the Veterans Day weekend in New York, taking part in the annual parade, as well as appearing at events sponsored by the American Legion, at their invitation. A town hall meeting in his district took the remainder of his free time. Representative Barnes devoted his weekend to fulfilling his duties as an elected official as seen in the accompanying images. His children were in the care of trusted employees, and he was in regular contact with them over the weekend.
"That's it? They make no comment about the implication that I have a girlfriend? Doesn't that confirm it to some people?"
Evan shrugged as he read it from Bucky's phone. "I guess officially you don't comment about your personal life. I'm surprised they mentioned the kids. You didn't tell them about visiting Mrs. Brody either. There isn't anything between you and Peri, so there's nothing to comment on."
He stared at the statement, angry that once again someone was questioning him for doing his job. Although the Elle incident had been reported to the Ethics Committee, once the police confirmed the charges against her and her lawyer, a majority had chosen to accept the results of the criminal investigation instead of calling on him to appear before them. The two cellphone pictures taken of Peri and the kids without their knowledge, and the smarmy caption attached to them, might just make some self-righteous member of the committee decide to try again. With a sigh, Bucky emailed his approval of the statement.
Hearing the call for preliminary boarding of their flight, he picked up his carry-on bag and followed Evan to the gate. They settled into their seats and waited for the rest of the passengers to board, smiling politely at anyone that recognized him. It wasn't until they were in the air and his phone was in airplane mode that he realized that whoever took those pictures had recognized his kids which he had gone to great lengths to prevent. He also wondered if Brad had given Peri the heads up on the pictures and the official response. God, he hoped so. This is exactly what he didn't want for her. Hadn't she been through enough?
Part 6>>
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Summary: An encounter with a member of HYDRA rattles Bucky and Joanne enough that they plan how to handle worst case scenarios. It proves timely as another encounter happens.
Length: 6 K
Characters: Bucky, Joanne, two minor OMC.
Warnings and other notes: Virginia didn't bring in mandatory car insurance for residents until July 1, 2024, according to the internet.
<<Chapter 15
Since that day of the argument Bucky and Joanne worked towards another level of understanding in their personal relationship. There was no more withholding of information between them as they committed to being honest. Trips to the library to check the email for more messages from Bill were read and answered together. Grocery shopping wasn't confined to Walmart as they ventured further away from their base. They took two separate day trips to check out the two safe houses that Bucky identified with his research, trying to determine which one would be their next residence. It was on the second of those days that they stopped at a farmer's market on the way back. Joanne explained how she often drove out to one outside of Washington whenever it coincided with a rare day off from the newsroom. With all the time she spent inside because of her job, it was a way for her to unwind.
At first Bucky was concerned about being out in the open but once Joanne took his hand, and they began walking through the assortment of canopy tents, he relaxed and even ventured to ask the vendors questions. Everything seemed to be fine until Bucky heard something and stopped suddenly in the middle of the wide path that separated two rows of vendors. At first, Joanne walked several steps ahead then realized he wasn't with her. Turning around she knew immediately that something was wrong by the look on his face. His breathing had become rapid, while his eyes were searching for the source of the sound. By the fear that was visibly displayed on his face, she knew he could be on the verge of a public breakdown.
"Bucky," she said softly, touching his right hand and linking her fingers with his. "What's going on?"
At first, he shook his head, still scanning, then he stopped, focusing on a man about twenty feet away from them. He was with a woman at a produce stall, asking whether their tomatoes were grown locally in a greenhouse.
"Him, the man with the green ball cap. His voice. He's HYDRA."
"Switch places with me," she murmured, not doubting his identification of the man. "Don't let him see your face."
They turned so that she could watch the man, who wasn't familiar to her. Bucky was practically vibrating with anxiety, so she guided his left hand to come around her waist under her jacket, hiding the glove he wore on it. She looked between Bucky and the man, trying to monitor both.
"Do you remember more about him?" she asked in a low voice.
"Medical team," whispered Bucky, then he swallowed. "Coming out of cryosleep. He was always there, removing things from where they were attached to my body." He gestured randomly to points on his chest. "I can't stay here."
"I know." She looked for a way out between the vendors but they were spaced so closely together that they either had to go back the way they came which would take them away from the parking lot, or go past the man then just a little further to where their car was parked. "We're close to the parking lot but we have to go past him. Can you do that?" His breathing quickened even more and his eyes blinked nervously, until she put her hand on his cheek, drawing his attention to her. "I'm not leaving you, okay? We're going to walk along the vendors on this side, pretending we're looking at stuff, then just casually walk past him. As far as he knows we're just another couple out at the farmer's market, right?"
He nodded, then focused on her. "Don't let him see me."
"I won't. It's going to be okay."
Watching the man and his companion saunter to the next stall, she wrapped her arm around Bucky's waist and turned towards the stall on their side, looking at the selection, then moving on to the next one. Stealing a glance every time, she made sure their backs were turned when they were opposite the other couple. His left hand was grasping her side so firmly that it was uncomfortable. When the vendor asked if there was anything they were interested in, Joanne smiled.
"No, thanks. We're just admiring your produce."
When she looked to one side where the man had been she couldn't see him for a moment, and felt a tendril of fear curling in her belly. Turning around completely, she reacted with surprise to him and his companion being directly behind them, prompting the man to look at her strangely. Bucky froze in place, looking to the opposite side, away from the man.
"Sorry," she stammered. "You startled me."
"No problem," he answered. "They seem to have nice produce at this stall."
"Yeah, too bad we already bought elsewhere." She tugged on Bucky's hand, pulling him sideways past the man, as she stepped away. "Go ahead. Come on, Honey. We have to get going."
As soon as she got Bucky away from that stall she put her arm around his waist again, telling him to put his right arm around her shoulders. Looking back once they got a short distance away, she sought out the man, who didn't seem interested in them at all. Restraining the urge to move too quickly, she walked towards the parking lot, finally becoming aware that her heart was beating wildly. Bucky was too quiet, with an unfocused gaze, and his gait so wooden that she wondered if he was in shock.
"Almost there," she said. "Give me the keys." He didn't respond. Stopping beside the car, she disengaged herself from him, then looked at his face, patting it lightly. "Hey, Bucky, look at me. We're at the car but I need the keys."
He still didn't respond so she searched his jean jacket pocket, finding it and unlocking the door. Guiding him, she opened it and gently maneuvered him into the front seat, then pulled the seatbelt around him. Placing their purchases in the back seat of the car, she got in behind the wheel, and adjusted the seat from where Bucky had it. As she backed out of the parking stall she felt a chill on the back of her neck, as if she was being watched. It was when she put the car into forward gear and looked in the rearview mirror that she saw the man with the green ball cap, standing beside the open trunk of his car, just a few stalls down, staring in their direction. Shit. Restraining the urge to peel out, Joanne exhaled, then drove casually towards the exit of the parking lot. When she looked again the man was bent over his trunk.
After driving for ten minutes, she pulled into the outside edge of a large parking lot surrounding a mall. Turning towards Bucky, who was slumped against the door, she took his hand and squeezed it, wondering if he could feel the sensation through the metal.
"Hey, are you with me? Please, say something."
He nodded, then turned to her, his eyes haunted.
"Don't let them take me back. Please."
"No, never. Bucky, he was watching us from the parking lot. He may have seen your face."
That made him snap out of his passive state, sit up and look carefully at their surroundings.
"Were you followed?"
"No, I'm pretty sure he didn't."
"He may have called others. Did he see the licence plate?"
"I don't know."
He kept looking around, paying attention to any vehicles that entered the parking lot, tensing when one came near then parked and the driver got out with a woman and baby. They took a stroller out of the trunk and placed the baby in it. Bucky still watched them with an intense interest until they entered the mall.
"We have to get another vehicle. I could steal one or switch plates from another car but that might draw the police."
"I could phone Nick Fury and see if he can provide us with a vehicle."
"No."
His curt answer was said emphatically, then he covered her hand with his other hand, squeezing it. His voice was kinder. "What other options do we have?"
"We could try to get my car in Washington but it was in the parking lot for the station. They've probably moved it to an impound lot and if we break in to get it they would know and be looking for it. We could buy a used car and ditch this one since we couldn't trade it in as it's owner was HYDRA. Fury said he died at the Triskelion."
"I would rather buy a truck or a utility vehicle so we have more room to pack things when we move." He smiled slightly. "You want to take the TV and DVD player, right?"
She smiled back. "Yeah, and my nice sheets. We should buy a good used one as it will be less. Virginia allows residents to drive their car without insurance. Does your license say you're a resident?"
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, then slid the driver's license out, confirming a Washington address. They would have to buy insurance. Another thought occurred to Joanne.
"How many people would know about your ID?"
"Just the handlers and support team that would be on missions with me. There were about a dozen and most of them were at the SHIELD headquarters when the helicarrier crashed into it."
"The guy at the market wasn't part of your team?" Bucky shook his head. "Do we have enough money to buy a car?"
"I think so. I just took the bag that the woman had filled. You didn't check either?"
"No. I just took out what we needed. We really should count it before we go shopping for something big like that." He was becoming more animated than when they first got to the car. "How do you feel?"
"Functional," he replied, then he saw her face. "Sorry. I still think in terms of readiness for the mission. You want to know about my emotions."
"You seemed to blank out for a bit," said Joanne. "You wouldn't answer, and you seemed lost."
"Seeing him brought back memories." His jaw became tense, causing a muscle in it to tic slightly, then he sniffed. "That man was alright to me, never did more than what he was supposed to. But there were times when I couldn't see well after being awakened from cryosleep. I would be weak, to the point where I couldn't walk or offer any resistance to anything. Some of them ... did things to me. He was ordered back while they touched me, made me do things ...." He grimaced, then looked at his hands as they trembled. "The man never took part as far as I know but he never stopped them, either."
"We should go," she suggested, starting up the car. "A day shouldn't make a difference. We'll go out tomorrow to look for another vehicle."
Both of them were constantly checking behind them for signs they were being followed but neither noticed anything. When they got back Bucky brought the bag with the cash into the kitchen. Together they pulled out all the bundles, stacking them according to denomination on the table. There was more than what Joanne was expecting. Knowing that each bundle had 100 bills in it, she got a paper and pen, counting the bundles of each denomination before tallying how much each stack had. When she finished, she added it all up together with the loose cash from bundles they had taken apart, sitting back and looking at Bucky in disbelief.
"$327,000 in bundled cash and about $4200 in loose cash," she said. "That doesn't count what you and I are carrying."
"That's enough, right?" asked Bucky.
"It's more than enough but we have to be careful how we use it. Most of this looks like new currency. I'm worried that paying the amount for a truck will cause an issue." He looked confused. "They might think we stole it."
"We did."
"Yeah, true, but they might think we stole it from a bank. I need time to think on how to explain having a large amount of cash that's all new bills."
She threw around several ideas but each one presented its own set of problems. They were no closer to solving the issue when it came time to prepare dinner. While they ate, Bucky suggested they go through the supplies in the building, choosing what they wanted to take with them and what they wanted to leave. They could use the totes in the supply room to carry everything, once they emptied them of their items. When they got to the room where the weapons were stored he stood in the centre of it, taking stock of everything.
"We can't take it all," said Joanne.
"No, we would need one of those big delivery trucks for that. I think we'll only take what we don't already have, and take ammunition for everything we do have." He turned to her. "You need more practice at firing a gun."
"Bucky, you're a good instructor, but I'm not that good. They scare me."
She thought back to one of their earliest sessions when they went outside and he attached some old sheets to the chain link fence. He drew round targets on them using black markers. Even though they were miles away from anyone the loud report of the gunfire had scared her into thinking someone would come to investigate the sounds. None of her attempts had even hit the concentric circles he drew, although she had managed to hit the large sheet outside the hand drawn shape. She wasn't much better now.
"What about the weapons we leave behind?" He looked puzzled by her question. "Do you want them to be available to any HYDRA people who manage to get here?"
Comprehension came quickly. "No, we don't. I can disable them, or we can tell Fury about them and let his people come through here. I'm sure they would want to go through the files that are in storage. Let's do that. I don't want to come back here ever again."
A slight shiver seemed to ripple through him, so subtle that most people wouldn't have noticed but Joanne had become more attuned to his reactions. Tentatively, she touched one of his fingers, linking it with hers. He didn't look at her, but he slid his hand fully into hers, accepting the comfort it gave him.
"Seeing that man really bothered you. It brought back a lot, didn't it?"
He nodded slightly, then looked at her. "Thank you for getting me out of there. I froze when I heard his voice. I almost expected to hear the command to comply. They had all sorts of commands beaten into me whenever they didn't want to waste time speaking. At least he didn't know the activation words."
"Do you know them?" His alarmed reaction to that question was immediate. "I mean, if you say them in your head or out loud, do you become the Winter Soldier?"
"I never say them in sequence," he answered. "But I do know them. I don't know if I would self-activate. Why?"
Moving so that she faced him, she looked into his eyes, then slowly raised her hand, pressing her palm against his cheek. It was gratifying to feel him press into her palm slightly. Then she swallowed and explained herself.
"I witnessed Pierce saying them to you, twice. The first time, it was like a curtain lifted revealing what was hidden behind when he got to a specific word. Your whole manner changed into something robotic and hard." She pressed her lips together, trying to adjust to the way her voice was tightening and twisting. "What if they somehow manage to subdue you, and began to say the words? You knew as soon as Crewes said that first word what she was trying to do. But say you can't stop them and they get through several of the words in the sequence. When does the Winter Soldier come out and how do I stop him from taking over?"
The fear on her face sliced into him like a scalpel, as he fully understood the reason behind her question. If the sequence got to a certain point he knew he couldn't fight it. He thought of the totes in the one supply room that had the medications in them before he burned them. They hadn't looked for any more since he did that but he hoped the paralytic medication wasn't still in there somewhere. The dosage would be prepared for use in a tranquilizer dart that could be loaded in a special gun and fired at him. Within seconds he would be down and unable to move for several minutes even while he was fully conscious as they recited the activation words. Fuck, it was probably standard procedure for the teams to carry a supply with them to subdue him in the field. Suddenly, he felt faint and sat down heavily on the floor, leaning against one of the shelving units. Joanne sat beside him, then leaned into him, putting her head on his shoulder.
"I think I should know the words," she said quietly.
"If we get into a situation where the words are completely said I will obey whoever says them," he replied. "They could order me to kill you and I would." Placing his arm around her he pressed a kiss into her hair then lowered his voice. "You would have to kill them and take over saying the words, putting me under your control." He reached towards her hand with his free hand. "Do you really think you could kill and then become my handler?"
That word, handler, filled her with apprehension. She had to be honest, with him and herself. This was part of their promise to each other; to be truthful. They had to plan for the unthinkable, even if the chances of it happening were low. They needed to know what to do if the worst case scenario occurred. As he tightened his arm around her Joanne shifted so she could wrap her arms around his middle. Despite the terror the thought gave her, she accepted that she had to be ready.
"I'll have no choice but to do it," she admitted, exhaling loudly after.
"Okay, remember, these are not good men. They had no qualms about torturing me, or killing anyone who could fight back against them."
In a sense, that admission and his reminder were freeing. They were long past the moment when she originally planned to stay with him a few days. Now, she was committed to making sure that Bucky was safe for however long she could. Raising her head so she could see him, she met his eyes with hers, seeing the same commitment from him. His lips touched her forehead, softly kissing it. Whatever this was, it was going to be together.
🎞️ 🎞️ 🎞️
It was only hours later that something happened, testing their agreement. After unpacking several of the totes and repacking them with almost everything they planned to take with them, they called it a night. While Bucky checked the doors and turned off all the lights, Joanne dragged several chairs into her room, laying her suitcase on one of them. She always was one of those people who packed for a trip sooner rather than later. When she looked up to see Bucky watching her place clothing in her suitcase and a tote, she smiled and shrugged. They said goodnight like always, except he hugged her on this night. Finding herself physically and mentally tired, she wasn't surprised when she fell asleep quickly.
"Joanne." It was a whispered voice that woke her, followed by a warm hand on her mouth, that alarmed her enough to fight against it then she heard Bucky whisper again. "It's me. I think someone is here and is trying to get inside. I want you to lock your door. Turn off the light when you've done it." A gun was placed in her hand, along with a full magazine. "The safety is off. If someone tries to come in use it, rapid fire if you can. Even if you don't hit them it will give me time to get here. If no one comes in then I'll knock twice, pause then knock twice again so you know it's me."
"What if I panic and fire at you?"
She felt a soft kiss on her cheek. "I trust you. It will be alright, I promise."
Then he was gone without a sound. She turned on the lamp, then locked the door and set up a chair near the lamp, sitting on it. Turning it off again, she waited and listened, surprised at how much sound travelled to where she was. There were men talking, two voices by what she could make out. Their footsteps were audible as she heard them checking out the entry area. A dim light flashed in the hallway as it lit up the gap at the bottom of the door.
"I wonder who's here," said the one voice, who sounded like he was still some distance away. "It's obvious someone is."
"I'm surprised no one's challenged us yet," said the other. The light flashed again along the floor of the hallway. "Why don't you check the store rooms and kitchen while I check the offices and dorm."
One set of footsteps came down the hallway, going into the different offices then coming back out, stopping at her door, where he tried the door knob. As her heart rate rose dramatically, she lifted the gun, aiming it straight ahead. Then came the sound of something heavy dropping, and the light going off, followed by a choking sound, then someone being dragged away. A few minutes later another set of footsteps approached her door.
"Gary?" It came out as a loud whisper. "You better not be fucking with me."
With no response the man muttered something that Joanne couldn't make out. He also stopped at her door, as his flashlight's gleam became visible at the bottom gap. Then it moved on and she could hear him approaching the room where they watched movies.
"What the fuck?"
He barely got the sentence out when he yelped and she heard the sounds of a struggle, then the sound of a body being dragged. There were more sounds in the hallway, so quiet that she could barely hear them. They passed by her door, and were soon no longer audible. It was several minutes until she heard two taps on the door, then a pause and two more taps. Turning on the light she went to the door.
"Bucky?"
"Joanne, it's me. It's safe."
Hesitantly, she opened it, almost crying at the sight of Bucky.
"Are you alright?" she asked, quickly scanning him for any sign of injury.
"I'm fine," he answered, then he put his arms out, drawing her in for a hug. "Are you alright?"
"Scared. Who were they?"
"Two guys from one of the backup support teams. I checked to make sure it was just them. They have one of the large utility vehicles. We should tie them up before they come around."
"Will they know the words?"
"I don't know. We'll have to question them." He looked at the gun still in her hand. "Hang on to that. I'll need you to make sure they don't say them. I want to know what they've been up to."
Leading her to the room where he had been kept in chains, she saw both men on the floor, unconscious. At first, she was surprised that Bucky put them in there, considering that after they painted those walls he didn't go back inside. He brought in three chairs, some zip ties and duct tape, fastening the men to the chairs and taping over their mouths for good measure. Then he left, coming back a few minutes later, dressed in black carrying two pails of water. He had also visibly armed himself, wearing holsters with guns and knives visible in them. Before he did anything, he took her hands in his and kissed them.
"I need you to stay calm. I'm not going to kill them and hurt them ... much, but I may have to be very threatening to get them to talk. They know what I'm capable of, as they witnessed the Soldat assisting in interrogations. I hope that's enough to loosen their tongues. If they start speaking Russian words to me ...." He breathed out, trying to centre himself. "Shoot in the air. See if that shuts them up. If it doesn't ...."
He left it unsaid and she understood that this was the first test of whether she could keep her promise to him. Placing the third chair behind them, he gestured to her to sit. Then he stood behind the two men pouring the pails of water on them from above. Both men spluttered through their noses, before realizing they were restrained and struggled against the zip ties. Bucky dropped the pails, surprising both of them into stopping their movements. Then he walked out so that he was facing them. Joanne could only imagine the look on their faces as they realized who took them down.
"I'm going to take the tape off your mouths," he said, in as toneless a voice as he could. "You're going to answer questions. Your answers will determine if you live or die. Do you understand?"
Both men nodded their heads and Bucky leaned before them. Immediately, one of them said the first Russian word of the activation words zhelaniye. Joanne fired her gun into the ceiling and Bucky put the tape back on his mouth, glaring at him.
"How stupid do you think I am? The next person to say anything in Russian gets a bullet in the back of the head from my associate. Do you understand?"
The one who spoke struggled again, his face a mask of fury, so Bucky hit him, making Joanne flinch but she didn't say anything. The other man looked up at him fearfully.
"I don't know the words, man. I didn't have clearance."
Taking a knee in front of him, Bucky withdrew a knife from a holster, playing with it, as if it were a toy. The man watched in frightened fascination until Bucky jammed it between his legs, not hitting flesh but burying the blade into the wood on the seat. All the while he stared at the man intently. As a wet spot appeared on the man's crotch, Bucky shook his head and took the knife out, wiping it on a dry spot of the man's pants.
"Please don't hurt me," he pleaded. "I never took part in what they did to you. I thought it was disgusting and inhumane."
"Yet you did nothing to help me," answered Bucky. "That's just as bad, Horton, that is your name, right?"
"Yeah, yeah, that's my name. It is bad that I did nothing, but it wasn't because I didn't want to, you know? Those guys were crazy, man. I got out of prison and a buddy said they paid really well. I just had to mind my business and do as I was told. They would have killed me in an instant. I don't want to die. I'll do better. I promise. Just don't hurt me."
Bucky holstered the knife and stood above the man, looking down at him in a way that was menacing.
"You didn't get to the Triskelion? I don't remember you being there."
"No, we got caught in a traffic jam," said Horton. "We saw the helicarriers go down and Gary said we should get back to the bank building. It was crazy there. Everyone was grabbing everything they could, computers, office equipment ... it was just a free for all. No one knew the combination to the safe so we couldn't get cash. We grabbed what we could so we could pawn it then we bugged out of there and have been laying low ever since. Gary said there were safe houses and we got to one but others were already there. Then we had to go out and when we came back they were being raided by police so we've been laying low ever since, too scared to search out the other safe houses. We met up with a guy from medical, he's a doctor so he wasn't worried about money. He told us about this place."
"When?" asked Bucky, suspecting it was the man in the green ball cap.
"Wednesday ... yeah, Wednesday. He gave us some money to tide us over then said this place had cash, weapons, and drugs that we could sell. We didn't know you were here. I swear it."
"But he knew this place was here. What's his name?" Horton closed his eyes as if he were trying remember. Meanwhile, Bucky came closer so that he was in the man's face. "What is his name?"
"Cameron, Dr. William Cameron. I think he was on the med team that revived you from cryosleep." That was his name. It was the same man. Bucky glanced at Joanne, whose mouth was set in a grim line. They had to get out of there. "Okay, here's the deal, Horton. I noticed you and Gary, here, have one of the larger vehicles. We need a larger one. Who is it registered to?"
"SHIELD, it's one of theirs but for HYDRA use. No trackers on it. Take it, it's yours. The keys are in Gary's pocket." He tried to look behind him to see who Bucky was glancing at but the super soldier put his hand on Horton's chin and drew him back to look only at him. "What else do you want to know?"
"How many of the teams are still alive?"
"Only a few. Rollins, Marsden, Chan ... a couple of guys from the tech teams. Rumlow is supposed to be in a coma."
"Who's in charge of HYDRA now?"
"I don't know, man. Seriously. I'm not high enough on the food chain to know. Gary might." He looked at the man beside him who glared at the betrayal. Horton looked back at Bucky, hopeful that he was going to survive this encounter. "We're good, right? You're not going to hurt me, or kill me?"
"We're good."
He shifted position to stand in front of Gary, who still appeared defiant. It was too risky to take the tape off of his mouth. Placing his hand out to Joanne to stay where she was, Bucky left. As soon as he was out of the door, Horton tried to turn around again so she shot the gun into the ceiling. He yelped and faced forward again, as Bucky ran back inside. She shrugged, then mouthed the word "oops." A small smile appeared on his face. Then he left again, coming back a few minutes later with two burlap sacks. Placing them over the two men's heads, he gestured to Joanne to follow him, closing the door behind them, saying nothing until they got into the kitchen.
"You did great," he said. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm good. What are we going to do with them?"
"Nothing. For a moment I thought about getting you to learn the words from Gary but he's scum and I don't want him to know who you are. You didn't recognize either one of them, did you?" She shook her head. "We're going to keep it that way."
"Are we leaving?"
"As soon as we can. Once Horton said the doctor's name I remembered it going with that face. When we've packed everything up into their vehicle, you phone Fury and tell him about the two guys here and that he should pick up Dr. William Cameron. Describe what he looked like. If he knew about this place then he had to be here when I was being corrected."
"Yeah, he doesn't deserve to get away with it." Joanne looked down at her pyjamas. "I guess I better get dressed and finished packing." She turned to leave then reached back for Bucky's hand. "You were very scary in there. I don't how you kept your head."
This time he shrugged. "It was a struggle. I'm going to move Horton to an office. Something tells me that if Gary gets free he won't be very forgiving of the guy."
They set an hour deadline to finish packing the totes and the vehicle. Bucky went into the room where he left the two men and picked Horton up, chair and all, in his arms, taking him to an office and telling him that someone would free him soon. Then he returned to the room where Gary was, taking the hood off and squatting before him.
"You don't recognize this room, do you?" Gary didn't acknowledge the question. "I ripped the chains out and painted the walls, hoping to cover up some of my memories of this place." Gary looked away, and Bucky grabbed his chin forcing the man to look at him. "I have many memories of this place, and just about every place where guys like you took turns abusing me. That's the serum; it repairs what's damaged. My memories are coming back, some of them good, but it seems the bad ones are just waiting to pour out. I endured 70 years of that shit and I'm never going through it again. I should kill you but that's too easy and I'm not like you, or Rumlow, or Armstead, or Rollins or any of your gang of degenerates. I hope that in whatever prison you end up in you reap what you sowed when you abused me. After this moment, I won't even think about you, because you're nothing."
With a shake of his head, Bucky reached inside Gary's jacket and took out the keys and remote for their vehicle, put the hood back on, turned off the light, and closed the door. Returning to his dormitory he packed up his clothes, then he and Joanne packed up the TV and DVD player. The weapons, movies and books had already been packed as well as most of the food. They finished packing the remainder of the food, then packed the large utility vehicle. Everything fit perfectly.
With Bucky at the wheel, they both looked at the building's outline, visible in the light of the partial moon. She dialled Nick Fury on the satellite phone, told him about changing their location, the two HYDRA operatives waiting to be retrieved at the building, then about the encounter with Dr. William Cameron. She finished with the news that they had a SHIELD vehicle now, giving him the license plate number so he could make sure that no one would be looking for it. After hanging up, she looked over at Bucky, the light of the dashboard making him visible. What happened next happened organically; he leaned towards her, she leaned towards him and they kissed. It was more intense than any other kiss they had shared, and it ended reluctantly and slowly enough that they could feel each other's breath on their skin before pulling away completely. Then Bucky drove out of the yard, neither of them looking back at the building as they left it behind in the dark.
Chapter 17>>
Series Masterlist
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summary. After a late-night in New Orleans, Congressman Bucky Barnes and his chief of staff wake up legally married. An annulment should be simple, but unfortunately, nothing about their lives is simple. With Bucky's reputation on the line and her past threatening to resurface, staying married starts to look like the safest option. It's only supposed to be temporary. Public appearances, a convincing story, and a quiet divorce once the headlines fade. But fake marriage is harder when everyone else believes it. Especially when Bucky is already in love with his wife.
word count. 7.3k
warnings. politics, everyone's bad at feelings, fake marriage setup, friends with questionable boundaries, bucky is quietly losing his mind, accidental truth serum dosing, sickfic elements, sam wilson, yelena is basically her sister, bucky is a first class yearner, he should teach classes at the yearning academy, a smidge of angst at the end because they're both idiots
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The problem with being fake married to Bucky Barnes was that he was very good at being fake married.
Actually, no. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that he was good at being married. There was a difference, and you had begun to resent it.
It had been a little over a week since you moved into his townhouse, which was enough time for the house to stop feeling like his and start feeling like a crime scene you had tampered with. You had not hung curtains or rearranged his books alphabetically, though the temptation had been there. But things started appearing.
Your tea on the middle pantry shelf because he had cleared it without making a production of it. Your blue mug in the kitchen cabinet beside his plain white ones. Your hair ties in a little ceramic dish by the bathroom sink, where Bucky had started placing them when he found them on doorknobs, cabinet handles, his wrist once, though he had insisted that last one happened accidentally.
The townhouse itself had become an issue. You had expected to hate it on principle. You had expected the move to feel like a concession, an inconvenience, another piece of public staging in a week already full of too many soft smiles and controlled statements.
His house was infuriatingly nice. The locks were good. The windows were better. There was no upstairs neighbor who performed what sounded like tap dance exorcisms at midnight. You slept better there. That was the worst part.
You had told yourself it was because of the security, and that it had nothing to do with the fact that Bucky slept on the other side of the bed like a man trying to make himself less large, or that he always took the side closer to the door without mentioning it. When you woke from old dreams with your hand halfway under your pillow for a knife you had not slept with in years, he never asked.
You were thinking this while sitting on the bathroom counter, one of Bucky’s sweatshirts swallowing you to mid-thigh, your bare legs crossed at the ankles, a pen between your teeth, and a half-finished crossword folded over your knee.
Bucky stood at the sink shaving. Standard fake-married roommate behavior.
The bathroom smelled faintly of cedar soap, mint toothpaste, and the tea he had made you before coming upstairs. The mirror was beginning to fog at the edges from the shower he had taken earlier. Morning light came in through the frosted window, softening the lines of his face as he drew the razor carefully along his jaw.
You watched him for perhaps two seconds too long, then looked back down at the crossword because you had survival instincts.
“Seven letters,” you said around the pen. “Old-timey word for handsome.”
Bucky’s eyes flicked to you. “Why’re you askin’ me?”
“I’m consulting a primary source.”
He rinsed the razor. “Debonair.”
You removed the pen from your mouth and stared at him. “Of course you knew that.”
He looked unimpressed, going back to shaving. “You gonna write it in?”
“Don’t rush me. I’m deciding if I want to give you the satisfaction.”
His mouth twitched, which nearly ruined the clean line he was shaving beneath his cheekbone.
You pointed the pen at him. “Careful, honeybun. Wouldn’t want to have to clean up bloodshed in the bathroom before eight.”
“Honeybun?”
You nodded. “Yeah, m’trying out old school pet names. Trying to meet you where you’re at, and all that.”
Bucky snorted. “Yeah, alright, babydoll.”
You let it slide, writing in debonair into the little boxes with aggressive pen strokes.
He rinsed the razor again, then reached for the small towel beside the sink. He had placed your mug near your hip so you could reach it without leaning. You had not missed that. You had also not missed the way he did not ask you to get down from the counter even though you were taking up half the useful space and had moved his aftershave to make room for your crossword.
That was the worst thing about living with him. Not the bed or the sight of his ring on the sink while he shaved. The worst thing was how easily he made room. Not in a dramatic way, not with a speech. He just shifted until there was space where there had not been space before.
A shelf. A drawer. A towel hook. A place for your mug. The left side of the bed. The good sightline in the kitchen.
“Five letters,” you said, tapping the crossword. “Moral failing. Common in powerful men.”
“Pride.”
You glanced up, a cheeky smile playing on your lips. “Speaking from personal experience?”
Bucky gave you a look. “Observation.”
“I gotta tell Sam that one,” you said, writing in the letters. “He’ll think it’s funny.”
“You tell Sam anything before coffee, he’ll hang up.”
“Incorrect. Sam loves gossip. He pretends he’s above gossip because he has a shield now, but in reality? He’s a porch auntie.”
Bucky huffed. “A porch auntie?”
You nodded. “Yeah, he likes to sit, observe, and judge. Offer his opinions. Sometimes he offers snacks.”
“He’s downstairs.”
You froze, the pen stopped over the crossword. You looked at him.
“What?”
Bucky wiped his face with the towel, far too calm for a man who had just mentioned an intruder.
“Sam’s downstairs.”
“Since when?”
“About twenty minutes.”
You stared harder. “Samuel Wilson has been in this house for twenty minutes?”
“He knocked.”
“I didn’t hear him.”
“You were arguing with the crossword. He came over to go over scheduling for the donor reception next week.”
“And?”
Bucky glanced at you in the mirror. There was a tiny pause that meant he was choosing which parts of the answer to give you.
“And the bill,” he said.
You waited.
He reached for his aftershave, but you reached it first, moving it behind your back. He stared at you. You stared back.
“Give it.”
“No.”
“It’s mine.”
“Then answer me.”
He sighed through his nose. “Security, scheduling, and the bill. That’s it.”
“Which part of the bill?”
“The current part.”
“The current part,” you repeated. “Excellent. Specific. Very transparent.”
He groaned your name. “It’s early.”
“I’m awake.”
“You’re sittin’ on a bathroom counter in my sweatshirt interrogating me over aftershave.”
You lifted your chin. “And?”
His eyes moved over you, enough that something warm slipped beneath your ribs before you could kill it. He looked away first.
You tossed him the aftershave. He caught it without looking.
Show-off.
“I don’t like not knowing things,” you said.
“I know.”
“I especially don’t like not knowing things while wearing a wedding ring connected to a congressional office, an enhanced-persons bill, and your unresolved martyr complex.”
“My martyr complex is resolved.”
“It is not.”
Bucky smiled faintly, rubbing aftershave along his jaw. “Sam’s waiting downstairs with coffee.”
“Why didn’t you lead with that?”
“You were busy with your crossword.”
You slid off the counter, landing lightly on the tile. Bucky’s hand moved instinctively toward your waist before he caught himself and dropped it.
You pretended not to notice.
The sweatshirt hem shifted high on your thighs, and his eyes went to the wall with the discipline of a man in church. You brushed past him through the bathroom door, close enough for your shoulder to skim his arm.
This was absurd. You were a former Widow, you had done worse things than share a bathroom with a handsome man. You had survived handlers, extraction orders, kill rooms, and fake identities. You would not be undone by Bucky Barnes shaving.
Probably.
Downstairs, the townhouse smelled like coffee and toast, which meant Sam had made himself at home. That was not surprising. He sat at the kitchen island in a dark jacket, your blue mug’s less charming cousin set beside him.
He looked up when you entered, then looked at Bucky behind you. Then looked at the sweatshirt. Then at your bare legs. Then back at Bucky.
His eyebrows climbed.
“Good morning,” Sam said.
“No,” you said, pointing at him.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You said it with your face.”
Sam took a slow sip of coffee. “Y’all look domestic.”
Bucky came into the kitchen behind you and went straight to the coffee machine. “Don’t start.”
“Oh, I’m starting.” Sam leaned back in his chair. “I’ve been downstairs twenty minutes listening to the two of you argue over a crossword clue like a retired couple.”
You set your crossword on the counter. “We are not retired.”
“No, just married.”
“Fake married.”
Sam lifted one finger. “Not legally. And from the sound of that bathroom, not in spirit.”
Bucky set your mug down in front of you.
You looked down. Not coffee, tea. He had brought your mug down from upstairs and refilled it without making a show of it.
Bucky leaned against the counter beside you, coffee in hand. “You said you were here for security.”
You took a long sip of tea and let the warmth settle you. The house was bright in the morning, sunlight catching the edge of the counter and the ring on your hand. Bucky’s kitchen had improved under your supervision. There were snacks now. A bowl of fruit, because Bucky had claimed he liked fruit. Crackers that did not taste like field rations. Jam, honey, and three kinds of tea.
“Security,” you said. “Talk.”
Sam’s expression sobered, though the humor stayed at the edges. “Donor reception next week. Private house. Half the people in the room got money, the other half want it. Bellamy’s people may be sniffing around.”
Bucky opened his mouth to respond but a sound interrupted him.
A soft click from the front door. Not a knock, a click. Your hand was under the island before conscious thought finished forming. There was no knife taped there. Of course there was no knife taped there. This was Bucky’s townhouse, not your apartment. You had considered taping one there two days ago and decided it would be too much too soon.
A mistake.
Bucky moved before you did, stepping quietly away from the counter. Sam’s posture changed in the same breath, easy warmth gone, shoulders loose but ready.
The door opened, and a blonde walked into the townhouse carrying a paper bag and wearing sunglasses.
You stared.
She stared back.
Sam slowly lowered his mug.
Bucky stopped in the hall.
Yelena pushed her sunglasses up onto her head and looked around the entryway, taking in the coat over the chair, your shoes by the table, the fact that you were standing barefoot in Bucky’s kitchen wearing his sweatshirt, and the incriminating diamond on your left hand.
Her mouth flattened.
“Wow,” she said. “Very nice. Domestic. Disgusting.”
You closed your eyes for one second.
“Yelena.”
“No.” She pointed at you with the paper bag. “Do not ‘Yelena’ me.”
Bucky looked at you.
You looked at Bucky.
Yelena had always had a talent for entering rooms like a thrown knife. She had been that way since the Red Room fell and the Widows scattered into a world they had not been raised to understand. Natasha had given so many of you freedom, and Yelena had taken that freedom like a personal assignment: find the ones still lost, drag them out, feed them if necessary, and call them family.
You had not been much younger than her. Enough that after Dreykov was dead and the chemical control was gone, Yelena had looked at you like someone had handed her a baby bird with a knife in its beak.
She had called you annoying, reckless, underfed, and badly socialized. But when you had woken from nightmares in safe apartments during those early months, she had been there.
Yelena set the paper bag on the entry table and walked into the kitchen.
“I had to learn from internet,” she said.
You winced. “I know.”
“From Tweeter. Not even good Tweeter. Political Tweeter. Everyone there is ugly inside.”
Sam nodded. “That is true.”
Yelena shot him a look. “Don’t agree with me yet. I am still deciding if I dislike you.”
Bucky cleared his throat. “Yelena—”
“You marry my sister and do not call me?”
Yelena’s eyes moved over Bucky, assessing him.
You spoke before he could take the blame too easily. “It happened fast.”
Yelena looked at you. “So does gunfire. I still expect update.”
“That’s not comparable.”
“It is very comparable. Both are dangerous and there are usually men involved.”
“She’s got a point,” Bucky said.
You turned to him. “Et tu, Robo-Brutus?”
Bucky frowned. “Robo-brutus?”
You lost the fight with your mouth and smiled.
Yelena saw it. Her face did something. Not softened, Yelena did not soften in obvious ways. But her anger shifted, narrowed, became less theatrical and more hurt.
“You are smiling,” she said.
You stopped.
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are smiling in kitchen of secret husband.”
Yelena stepped closer, and for one second, underneath the sunglasses and the sarcasm and the controlled violence of her presence, you saw the woman who had found you after the Red Room and decided, without asking you, that you belonged with her now.
“You did not tell me,” she said.
You looked down at your mug. “I know.”
“You tell Captain America.” She nodded at Sam and sighed. “I am not angry you married sad congressman.”
“Great,” Bucky muttered.
“I am angry because you do stupid life thing and I am not there.”
Your throat tightened. A normal person might have apologized properly. You were not normal people.
“There was no cake,” you said.
Yelena blinked.
You continued. “It was a chapel. There was a package called Jazz It Up. You would’ve hated it.”
“Yes, probably.”
“And the rings were terrible.”
“I saw photo. Very terrible.”
“Vending-machine adjacent.”
“Disrespectful to vending machine.”
You nodded. “Exactly.”
The corner of Yelena’s mouth twitched.
Victory.
Small, but real.
Bucky moved toward the toaster.
“You want breakfast?” he asked.
Yelena turned to him with suspicion.
“What kind?”
“Toast. Eggs.”
“Do not use food to make me less angry.”
“I wasn’t.”
“He was,” you said. “He’s from the forties. If a woman is mad in his kitchen, he tries to feed her.”
Bucky looked over his shoulder. “That’s not—”
Sam cut in. “It’s exactly what you do.”
Yelena considered this, then removed her sunglasses completely and set them on the counter.
“This is manipulative,” she said, “but effective.”
Bucky nodded once. “Eggs?”
“Yes, but I remain betrayed.”
“Understood.”
“And I want toast.”
“Okay.”
“With butter.”
“Got it.”
“And something sweet.”
Bucky looked at you.
You shrugged. “You married into this.”
He gave you a look.
Yelena opened the paper bag she had brought and pulled out a pastry box.
“I brought cake,” she announced.
Sam looked at it. “You brought your own cake to confront them?”
“Yes.”
“Respect.”
You leaned against the counter, watching Bucky take eggs from the fridge like this was a normal morning. Like one of the deadliest women you knew had not broken into his townhouse. Like Sam was not sitting at the island with the expression of a man watching premium cable.
Yelena slid onto a stool and opened the pastry box. “So. Tell me everything.”
Tonight’s event was at a private house in Kalorama. Some kind of reception for the Enhanced Persons Protections Act, though half the guest list looked like people who wanted to support the bill and the other half looked like people who wanted to learn exactly how much it threatened them.
You had spent the morning reviewing names, spouses, companies, private interests, known grudges, possible Valentina connections, and one man whose entire file was just the word “weasel” underlined twice.
Bucky had asked if that was an official classification.
“It is in my office,” you had said.
Now you were standing in the kitchen, trying to put your earring in while glaring at your phone.
“Bellamy is sending Eleanor,” you said.
Bucky looked up from the tea kettle. “His wife?”
“His wife, his fundraiser, his most effective weapon, yes.”
“You like her?”
“She once ruined a councilman’s career over brunch without putting down her mimosa. Of course I like her. I’m not made out of stone.”
“Tea?” Bucky asked, reaching for your mug in the cabinet.
“Yes, please. Something with mint if we have it.”
He nodded and opened the pantry.
There were actual snacks. Crackers, cookies, a small tin of cocoa. A tiny glass bottle with a handwritten label that said peppermint extract.
Bucky picked it up. The handwriting was yours. The bottle was small, dark amber glass with a little dropper cap. It looked like something from a health store or one of the strange specialty markets you and Yelena liked.
He unscrewed the top and sniffed.
Peppermint.
Sharp, clean. Normal enough. He added a few drops to your tea. Maybe four. Possibly five.
You were still glaring at your phone.
“Do not say anything kind to Senator Vale tonight,” you said.
Bucky stirred the tea. “Wasn’t planning on it.”
“You sometimes default to polite when startled.”
Bucky handed you the mug. You took it, still distracted, and drank. Bucky watched your face for a second. No reaction. You lowered the mug and finally looked at him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“The tea is fine.”
“Fine?”
“Don’t get needy.”
He huffed and turned toward the stairs. “Need your dress zipped?”
You turned without comment, presenting him with the open back of your dress.
This was still the part of fake marriage he had not gotten used to. The ordinary things. The things that had no business feeling like trespassing. A zipper. A mug. You standing in his kitchen asking him to close a dress he was not allowed to think too hard about.
Your skin was warm beneath his knuckles. He looked at the wall over your shoulder and pulled the zipper up slowly. The dress closed along your back, dark fabric settling into place like armor.
“There,” he said.
You looked back at him. “No lecture about how I should wear a coat?”
“I was saving it for the car.”
“How gallant of you, soldier boy.”
“‘S cold out.”
“It’s fifty-two degrees.”
“Still cold.”
“You were frozen for seventy years.”
“Yeah, and I didn’t like it.”
That got you to laugh. A quick one. Real. Gone too fast.
Then you stepped away, grabbed your other earring, and finished getting ready while narrating an assassination of Bellamy’s entire family tree that you claimed was “rhetorical and therefore legal.”
The car came to pick the both of you up shortly after. You spent most of the car ride quizzing Bucky on the guests that would be attending the event, and to your surprise, Bucky had done his homework.
By the time you arrived, the reception was already loud. The kind of low, polished noise that came from old floors, expensive shoes, crystal glasses, and people laughing in a way that suggested no joke had actually been told. The house was all tall windows and oil portraits and floral arrangements large enough to hide surveillance equipment in.
Bucky placed a hand at your back as the host approached. You leaned into the touch by half an inch, just enough to sell the picture. Maybe less than half. Maybe he imagined it.
“Representative Barnes,” the host said, smiling too widely. “And Mrs. Barnes. We’re so pleased you could make it.”
Bucky felt you stiffen at Mrs. Barnes, but your smile did not move.
You moved through the first half hour easily. Better than easily. You were good at this. Better than he was, though you would never frame it that way unless you were trying to annoy him. Bucky could stand and look sincere. He could talk about the bill. He could shake hands, remember names, and answer questions.
You could make people comfortable enough to reveal themselves. You smiled at a donor’s wife and had her talking within three minutes about who was nervous about the bill. You complimented Eleanor Bellamy’s earrings and got a quiet list of who had arrived together and who was pretending they hadn’t. You spoke French to a Belgian attaché just long enough to make him nervous, then Russian to a private security consultant who nearly dropped his drink.
Bucky watched it all with a mix of respect and unease. Marriage had changed the way people saw you. That had become obvious fast.
As his chief of staff, people braced themselves when you walked into a room. They watched their words. They knew you had teeth.
As his wife, they underestimated you differently. Some still knew better. Women mostly, the smart ones. But men with expensive watches kept making the same mistake. They treated you like an accessory. Like you were there to soften him, decorate the room, translate his silence into charm.
You returned to his side after speaking with Eleanor Bellamy, your smile still in place, your hand sliding into the crook of his elbow with a practiced ease that made several people nearby look on fondly.
“What’d you find?” he asked under his breath.
“Eleanor thinks Harrington’s group is nervous.”
“About the bill?”
“About the subpoenas.”
Your finger tightened briefly against his sleeve, then Mr. Harrington himself approached.
He shook Bucky’s hand too firmly, then turned to you.
“Mrs. Barnes,” Harrington said. “I imagine married life has softened the congressman.”
Bucky felt you shift beside him.
“No,” you said. “He was already soft where it matters.”
Bucky went still. Harrington blinked. You blinked too. Then you looked at Bucky with alarm.
Harrington laughed uncertainly. “Well. That’s one way to put it.”
“He makes married life easy,” you admitted. “I couldn’t imagine being married to anyone else.”
Bucky looked at you.
You looked back, eyes wide for half a second.
Something was wrong.
You apologized to Mr. Harrington, saying you suddenly felt unwell, and Bucky pulled you quietly to the side of the room.
“Are you alright? You seem off,” he asked softly once you were a few steps away.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“It was like I had an inside thought and it became an outside thought.”
“That happens to you.”
“Not like this.”
Before he could respond, a woman from the veterans’ coalition intercepted the both of you, smiling warmly.
“You two are so lovely together,” she said. “Is it difficult, working with your husband?”
You opened your mouth. Then shut it.
Bucky watched you physically fight your own face.
“Yes,” you said.
Bucky’s eyebrows lifted.
You continued, visibly horrified by yourself. “He is stubborn, exhausting, overprotective, and much more attractive than is necessary in a workplace setting.”
The woman’s smile widened.
“Oh,” she said, delighted. “That’s very sweet.”
You excused the both of you again, your eyebrows furrowing in concern.
“Bucky, something’s wrong,” you muttered, a wave of nausea rolling over you.
Bucky held your elbow to steady you. “Are you alright?”
Before you could answer, Sam turned the corner and took in the sight in front of him.
“What’s going on here?” He asked, looking between them.
You shook your head. “I suddenly feel sick. Don’t ask me questions.”
Sam’s eyebrows rose. Bucky’s attention sharpened.
“Why not?” Sam asked.
You pressed your lips together. Your eyes went slightly unfocused, like someone holding a door shut from the other side.
“Because,” you said, “I’m having trouble not answering them.”
Sam’s face changed. Delight. Then suspicion. Then delight again.
Bucky stepped between you by half an inch. “Sam. Don’t.”
Sam looked at you. “You okay?”
You made a small, strangled sound. “No.”
Bucky’s chest tightened. The answer came clearly. You never admitted you weren’t okay that quickly.
He lowered his voice. “What’s happening?”
You looked at him. Your pupils were not blown, exactly, but your eyes were brighter than they should have been. Your breathing was controlled, but too controlled. Your hand had gone tight around his arm.
“I don’t know,” you said, your face twisting with irritation.
Bucky turned to you fully now, blocking more of the room from seeing. “Did you eat anything strange?”
You shook your head.
“Drink?”
“Just your tea.”
“My tea?”
“The tea you made me while we were getting ready.” You said. “Did you put anything in it?”
Bucky stared at you. “Peppermint extract.”
Your face went perfectly blank. Bucky had seen that look before. Not often. Not in safe rooms. It was the expression you wore when your body got to the answer before the rest of you wanted to.
“What bottle?”
“Small. Amber glass. Handwritten label.”
Your eyes closed.
“That wasn’t peppermint extract,” you said.
Bucky went cold. “What was it?”
You looked past him toward the crowd, then back at him. Your voice was dangerously calm when you spoke again.
“Truth serum.”
The room seemed to narrow around him. Sam made a sound that was probably not helpful. Bucky did not look away from you.
“Why would you label your truth serum as peppermint extract?!”
Your skin was too warm. Your mouth tasted like mint and metal. The lights in the donor’s foyer had grown hard around the edges, each chandelier throwing bright little blades into your eyes. Every laugh from the reception behind you arrived too loudly, too close, too full of teeth. You could feel your pulse in your throat, in your wrists, under the ring on your finger.
Worst of all, beneath the nausea and the chemical heat, there was the constant pressure of honesty building behind your teeth.
Not truth, but compulsion. Truth was a choice, and this was not that. This was old Widow chemistry crawling through your veins, dragging answers out like wire through skin.
Bucky put himself between you and the rest of the reception without seeming to. His hand settled at your back, light enough to pass as husbandly concern, firm enough that you knew he was ready to catch you if your knees gave out.
“You’re sweating,” he said under his breath.
“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”
Bucky’s hand shifted. “Okay. We’re leavin’.”
“We are not leaving.”
“We are.”
“We are at a donor reception for your bill.”
“You’re sick.”
“I have been sick at much more important events.”
Sam, from your left, muttered, “That is not the defense you think it is.”
You wanted to tell him to shut up. You also wanted to ask if the wallpaper was moving or if it was just your nervous system trying to flee your body.
“Get the car, Sam,” Bucky instructed.
Sam pointed toward the front doors. “I’ll pull the car around.”
“Good.”
“I’m helping.”
“You’re grinning.”
You tried to laugh, but the motion made your stomach lurch. Bucky’s hand moved instantly, his palm spreading across the center of your back as you bent slightly at the waist and breathed through your nose.
The reception continued around you, softened by distance and your own rising fever. Voices blurred. Someone laughed. A glass clinked.
You pressed a hand to your stomach and let Bucky guide you toward the hallway. The movement was too smooth to look urgent, too intimate to draw alarm. To anyone watching, Congressman Barnes was simply taking his wife outside for air. His hand at your back. His body angled close. A good husband.
A fake husband who had accidentally drugged your tea and now looked like he wanted to throw himself into traffic about it.
You wanted to make fun of him for that. You wanted to tell him that guilt was unattractive, except it wasn’t—not on him. It was terrible. It was familiar. It was also one of the reasons you had trusted him, because Bucky Barnes was one of the few men you knew who was actually afraid of what he was capable of.
The thought tried to come out your mouth. You clamped your lips shut. Your stomach rebelled immediately.
Bucky felt it. “Don’t fight it.”
You glared at him. “Easy for you to say. You’re not currently one stray question away from announcing state secrets to Kalorama.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said, voice laced with guilt.
“Yes,” you said, because the serum grabbed the answer before you had the chance to soften it. “You should be.”
Bucky stiffened beside you.
Damn it.
You stopped walking, which made the nausea worse, but the look on his face was worse than that. You put a hand on his wrist, fingers tightening around the cuff of his jacket.
“Not like that,” you said.
His eyes found yours.
The hallway had arrowed around him. Around his face, his mouth, the crease between his brows. The worried set of his shoulders. You could hear the party behind you, but it felt like it belonged to another building.
“I mean you should be sorry in the way people are sorry when they step on someone’s foot,” you mutter. “Not in the way you get when you decide you’re personally responsible for every bad thing that has happened since 1943.”
He blinked.
“Sorry, too honest.” You swallowed hard.
His hand turned under yours until he was holding your fingers. “Still true?”
“Unfortunately.”
His thumb moved once over your knuckles.
“C’mere,” he said, pulling you closer to his body so he could support you better. “Car’s here.”
Sam had pulled the SUV directly to the curb and was standing beside the open back door with the posture of a man who had decided he was both chauffeur and audience.
“Your getaway car awaits,” he said.
You pointed at him as Bucky helped you down the front steps. “Sam, stop enjoying this.”
The cold air outside should have helped. It did not. It hit your overheated skin and made you shiver so hard Bucky’s hand tightened at your waist.
You hated needing support. You also hated that he was good at giving it.
He helped you into the backseat with an amount of care that would have been insulting if you had not been trying very hard not to throw up on his shoes. You slid across the leather seat, intending to sit upright with dignity, but the SUV moved half an inch as Sam climbed into the driver’s seat and your stomach dropped through the floor.
Bucky climbed in before you, taking his jacket off and placing it under your shoulder before you could complain. His metal hand braced against the seat while his right hand guided you down with careful pressure at your upper back.
“Lie down.”
“Bossy.”
“Yeah.”
“I am your chief of staff.”
“You’re my wife.”
“Fake wife.”
“Sick wife.”
The argument unfortunately held traction.
You lay down across the backseat, your head ending up in his lap because the universe had apparently decided humiliation should arrive in layers. Bucky went very still beneath you.
For one suspended second, the truth serum, the nausea, the evening, the donor reception, all of it thinned into one clear fact: your cheek was against his thigh, his hand hovering near your shoulder, and you could feel the warmth of him through the fabric of his trousers.
The SUV pulled away from the curb and your stomach lurched again. You groaned and pressed the back of your hand against your mouth. Bucky’s hand came down immediately, broad and warm against your hair.
“Breathe,” he said.
“I am breathing.”
“Through your nose.”
“I know how breathing works.”
“Coulda fooled me.”
“You’re becoming quite bold for a man who poisoned his wife.”
Sam made a sound from the front seat.
Bucky closed his eyes.
“I deserved that one,” he said.
“You deserve several. I’m spacing them out.”
Bucky snorted. “Appreciate it.”
Sam adjusted the rearview mirror, which you noticed because even poisoned and nauseous, you were trained to notice people adjusting mirrors.
He was looking directly at you, not even pretending he wasn’t.
“Wilson,” Bucky said.
“What?”
“Drive.”
“I am driving.”
“Then look at the road.”
“The road is still there.”
“Sam.”
“Fine.”
He looked forward for approximately four seconds.
“So,” Sam said. “Truth serum.”
“Shut up, Wilson,” you grumbled.
He did not.
“I’m just clarifying the situation.”
Bucky’s fingers moved through your hair once, almost absent. Maybe he did it to comfort you. Maybe he did it without thinking. Either way, your whole body noticed, which was extremely inconvenient given that your body was already filing numerous complaints.
“How long does it last?” Sam said.
“Depends on dose, metabolism, training, whether the serum was stabilized properly, and whether your fake husband has a heavy hand.”
Bucky looked down at you. “I put in five drops.”
You lifted your head just enough to glare at him. Five drops.
Bucky’s face changed.
“What?”
“Five?”
“You said you liked mint.”
Sam started laughing.
You dropped your head back into Bucky’s lap and closed your eyes again. “I hate both of you.”
“No, you don’t,” Sam said.
Your mouth opened and your stomach seized. You sat up halfway so fast Bucky had to catch you by the shoulders.
“No,” you said, voice tight. “I don’t.”
Bucky leaned forward with you, one arm around your back now, steady and immediate. “Don’t answer.”
“I know that.”
“Then don’t.”
“I’m trying.”
Sam’s laughter died. “Wait, it makes you sick if you don’t answer.”
You swallowed hard, eyes shut, willing the wave down. “Yeah, bird brain. If I fight too hard. Or try to lie. Yes.”
Bucky’s arm tightened around you.
Sam went quiet for a moment.
Then in a much more careful voice: “Okay, that part’s not funny.”
“No,” you said. “But I’ll recover.”
Bucky exhaled through his nose. “Lie back.”
You did, partly because the nausea was fading to a simmer and partly because his hand at the back of your head made it easier to let go. He arranged you with the same maddening care as before, jacket under your shoulder, your head in his lap, his palm resting lightly against your temple as if he could measure your temperature through sheer concern.
Maybe he could. Maybe it was a feature that came with your super soldier.
Not your super soldier.
The SUV weaved through D.C. traffic, the city lights breaking across the windows in long white and red lines. The backseat smelled like leather, Bucky’s aftershave, and the faint medicinal sharpness of your own poisoned breath. Up front, Sam drove with one hand on the wheel, posture loose, but you could tell he was listening to every breath you took.
He was having too much fun, yes, but he was also worried.
“Alright,” he said after a while, too casually. “Safe questions only.”
“No such thing.”
“Sure there is. Widow stuff.”
Bucky’s head snapped up. “That is not safe.”
Sam ignored him. “Could you really kill a man with a paperclip?"
You opened one eye. “What kind of paperclip?”
Sam’s grin returned in the mirror. “Standard office.”
“Yes.”
Bucky looked down at you. “Really?”
“Not quickly.”
Sam nodded in approval. “See? Educational.”
“Stop asking about murder,” Bucky said, his thumb brushing your temple.
You tried not to enjoy the touch.
You failed.
Sam kept going, because mercy was not one of his spiritual gifts.
“Could you beat Bucky in a fight?”
“Yes.”
Bucky raised an eyebrow.
You did not open your eyes.
“That was fast,” Sam said.
“It was true.”
Bucky’s voice lowered, amused despite himself. “You think you could beat me?”
“I know I could beat you.”
“Super soldier.”
“Predictable.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Predictable?”
“You fight like a man who is used to being stronger than everyone else.”
Bucky’s hand stilled in your hair. You opened your eyes and looked up at him. His face hovered above yours, upside down from your angle, dark hair falling slightly forward, expression caught between offense and interest.
“You rely on force when irritated,” you said. “Your left side is overprotected because of the arm. You assume people will avoid it. I wouldn’t. Also, you hesitate when you think you might hurt me.”
The SUV went quiet. Bucky’s throat moved.
You blinked up at Bucky, realizing what you had said.
Then you added, because you could not help yourself, “I would also cheat.”
Sam laughed so hard the car drifted half an inch before he corrected it.
“Road,” Bucky said, looking forward.
“I got it,” Sam said, still laughing. “I got it.”
You let your eyes close again, heat creeping across your face. You were not sure if it was the serum, the fever, or the fact that Bucky had gone silent beneath you.
His hand resumed its slow, absent motion over your hair after a moment.
You wanted to bite him.
Possibly affectionately. You were not going to examine that.
Sam cleared his throat. “Okay. Next question. What happened to my Valentine’s Day donut?”
Bucky’s brows drew together. “What?”
“Last year,” Sam said, “I brought a dozen donuts to Buck’s office. Special ones from that place in Alexandria. I put a note on the box that said, ‘Do not eat the pink one, Sam is saving it.’ I came back from a call and the pink one was gone.”
You kept your eyes closed.
Sam said your name again.
You said nothing.
Your stomach turned sharply.
Bucky’s hand pressed lightly to your shoulder. “Hey.”
“I ate it,” you said, and immediately felt better.
Sam gasped.
Bucky looked down at you with something like amusement.
“You lied to me,” Sam said.
“I said Bucky looked suspicious.”
“Bucky always looks suspicious. That was low-hanging fruit.”
“Hey,” Bucky interjected.
“I knew it,” Sam grumbled. “You said you didn’t even like strawberry frosting.”
“I don’t.”
Both men waited.
You sighed. “It had jam inside.”
“It had a note.”
Bucky actually laughed then, enough that you felt it in the muscles beneath your cheek. A warm low vibration. You hated how much you liked it.
“Alright,” Sam said, shifting gears. “Serious question.”
“No,” Bucky said immediately.
“You don’t even know what it is.”
“I know your tone.”
Sam ignored him. “How many aliases have you had?”
You considered not answering.
The nausea warned you.
“Thirteen active. More if you count burn names and one very short-lived Belgian art dealer identity.”
Sam’s mouth opened.
Bucky went still again.
You felt his silence before you saw it.
He knew things about your past. More than most. Less than all. He had read the sanitized files, heard the stories you offered like jokes, pieced together the rest from old mission reports and the way you woke up when someone spoke Russian too softly behind you.
But numbers were different.
Thirteen lives. Thirteen names. Thirteen versions of you created to enter rooms, ruin men, disappear afterward.
Bucky’s hand settled against your cheek, not forcing you to look at him. Just there. You did not open your eyes.
Sam’s voice was quieter when he asked, “Did you like any of them?”
“One.”
The answer hurt on the way up.
Bucky’s hand stilled.
You opened your eyes and looked toward the dark window, where city lights blurred against your reflection.
“She had a dog,” you said. “I mean, a fake dog, but—”
“Still counts,” Bucky said softly.
You stared up at him, mesmerized by the way you could still make out the blue in his eyes in the dark of the car. Mesmerized by the way he handled you so gently when you knew you didn’t deserve it. Didn’t deserve him. You fought the urge to tell him how gorgeous he was, how much you enjoyed the feeling of his hands in your hair, how you’d like his hands to be—
Your stomach turned so violently you lurched upright again, hand over your mouth.
Bucky moved with you, arm around your shoulders, his other hand already reaching for the little paper bag Sam had shoved into the seat pocket from some takeout place. He got it open in front of you before you could ask.
You did not throw up. Barely.
But your body shook with the effort, and Bucky held you through it, one hand firm between your shoulder blades, his voice quiet near your ear.
“Breathe. That’s it. Don’t fight it so hard.”
“I’m not—”
You stopped.
Bucky’s fingers pressed lightly against your back.
“You are,” he said.
You hated that he knew. That he was right. You breathed slowly and the nausea loosened.
Sam had gone quiet in the front seat, his joking temporarily stripped down to concern. He drove more carefully now. Fewer sharp stops. Slower turns. He was not careless, not ever, when it mattered.
You sank back down, exhausted now, your head finding Bucky’s lap again like it had been assigned there.
“Done with serious questions,” Bucky told Sam.
Sam nodded once. “Yeah.”
For about a minute, the car was quiet.
Then:
“Can I ask a stupid one?”
Bucky sighed. “Sam.”
“She likes stupid ones.”
“I do,” you admitted.
Sam brightened. “See?”
Bucky looked down at you. You looked up at him.
His expression was soft with worry, but there was a question there too. Permission.
You nodded once.
Bucky looked forward. “One.”
Sam grinned. “Worst date you’ve ever been on?”
Bucky’s entire body went still. “You don’t have to answer.”
You smiled despite the nausea. “I do, actually, if I don’t want to redecorate your lap.”
His mouth shut, a faint red touching his ears.
“The worst operational date was with a French arms broker who cried after sex and asked if I thought his mother loved him.”
Sam made a strangled sound. Bucky looked like he had been hit.
You continued. “The worst real date was with an assistant U.S. attorney who said he liked strong women, but got genuinely scared when I was giving orders in the bedroom later.”
Sam laughed again, quieter this time.
Bucky’s hand had stopped moving through your hair.
You glanced up, his jaw was tight. That was very interesting.
“Barnes?” you said softly.
“I’m fine.” He grunted.
“You’re lying. I can tell because I currently cannot.”
“This is incredible,” Sam whispered.
Bucky looked toward the front seat. “Ask your last question.”
“I already asked my last one.”
“Then be quiet.”
“But now I have a better one.”
“No.”
“It’s not for you.”
“No.”
Sam looked at you in the mirror, the grin returning with terrible caution. “Do you think Buck is handsome?”
Bucky’s hand tightened in your hair. You couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about how you’d like to feel his hands in your hair in a different circumstance.
Your body reacted before your mind could build a wall around it. Heat climbed your neck. Your mouth opened, then shut. Your stomach turned hard.
“No,” Bucky said.
You pressed your lips together. The nausea surged. Bucky felt your body go rigid. He looked down at you, alarm replacing everything else.
“Hey. Don’t answer. Sam, stop.”
Sam lifted a hand from the wheel. “Okay. I’m done.”
But the question was already in the car.
Do you think Buck is handsome?
Stupid question.
Easy question.
You could have said yes. You had said worse tonight. But this felt different with your head in his lap, with his jacket under your shoulder, with his fingers in your hair and his whole body bent around the effort not to take what the serum was trying to hand him.
The answer sat behind your teeth. The refusal sat in your stomach like a blade.
You turned your face into Bucky’s thigh and groaned.
Bucky’s hand slid to the back of your neck, warm and steady. “I’m sorry ‘bout him, sweetheart. Just breathe for me.”
“I hate him,” you said.
“I know.”
Sam said, much quieter, “I’m sorry.”
“No,” you opened one eye toward the front seat. “No, you’re not.”
“I am a little.”
“You’re sorry because Bucky is going to murder you.”
Sam considered this. “That was a factor.”
The serum dragged at the answer, punishing the locked door because it could not get through. Bucky’s thumb moved slowly against your neck, grounding and patient. The kind of touch that made you want to tell the truth for reasons that had nothing to do with chemicals.
“Objectively,” you said finally, voice muffled against his leg, “yes.”
Bucky stopped breathing.
You kept your eyes shut. “He is very handsome in a very annoying way. It’s irritating.”
No one spoke.
The nausea eased at once, which was humiliating.
You continued, because apparently the door that had been open couldn’t be shut.
“And his shoulders are a problem. His hair is usually a problem. The eyes are…” You stopped. Tried to stop. Failed. “The eyes are worse.”
Bucky was very still beneath you.
You opened your eyes and looked up.
Bucky’s face was turned slightly away, but you could see the red at the tips of his ears. The tightness in his jaw had changed into something else. Something shy, almost. Embarrassed and pleased and guilty for being pleased.
That made your chest hurt.
“Also, he dresses like a widowed history professor.”
Sam barked out a laugh.
Bucky looked down at you, and the expression on his face finally cracked.
A smile. Small, helpless, warm.
“You done?” he asked.
“I hope so.”
“Feel better?”
“Physically, yes.”
Sam shook his head. “For what it’s worth, I thought that was beautiful.”
“Wilson, drive into the river.”
“See? She’s fine.”
Bucky gave him a look.
You closed your eyes again, drained from nausea, embarrassment, and the emotional labor of not confessing anything more catastrophic.
His hand resumed its movement through your hair, slower now.
“You okay?” he asked softly.
You wanted to say obviously. The lie rose. Your stomach warned you. So you told the truth.
“No.”
His hand stilled.
Then, gently, “Okay.”
You opened your eyes and looked up at him.
His face was still flushed, still worried, still guilty. His ring caught the passing streetlights where his hand rested near your cheek. His fake wedding ring. Your fake husband.
“You’re very guilty,” you said.
“Yeah.”
“It was an accident.”
“Still happened.”
“You are not allowed to self-flagellate in the back of an SUV.”
“That a rule?”
“Is now.”
His mouth curved faintly. “Okay.”
“And if you apologize again, I’ll say something graphic about your arms just to make you uncomfortable.”
Sam made a noise. “Please don’t threaten him with a good time while I’m driving.”
Bucky shut his eyes.
You smiled weakly.
The SUV turned onto Bucky’s street.
Home, you thought, and immediately wished you had not.
You tried not to think about the fact that the safest place you had been all night was with the man who had accidentally poisoned you.
By the time Sam pulled up in front of the townhouse, Bucky had already decided he was carrying you inside.
He did not announce this.
Announcing it would give you time to argue, and you had already spent the last twenty minutes nauseous, honest, and stubborn enough to keep trying to sit up every time the SUV slowed at a light.
The truth serum had not knocked you out. That might have been easier, in some ways. Instead, it had left you too aware of everything. Too hot, too sick, too sharp around the edges. You kept blinking like the streetlights were too bright. Every so often, your mouth would open like a thought had tried to escape, and you would clamp your lips shut so hard your whole body went tense.
Bucky felt it every time.
Your head was still in his lap. His jacket bunched beneath your shoulder. One of your hands had curled loosely around the fabric near his knee, like you had grabbed onto the nearest thing during a bad turn and forgotten to let go.
Sam put the SUV in park and looked at the two of you through the rearview mirror. His face had lost most of the teasing by then, leaving behind concern and something quieter Bucky did not want to name.
“You need help gettin’ her in?”
“No,” Bucky said.
You opened one eye. “I am not luggage.”
“You’re right,” Sam said. “Luggage is easier.”
You lifted one hand, weakly, and pointed at Sam. “Your betrayal has been noted.”
Sam turned around enough to look at you properly. “You gonna be okay?”
Your mouth opened.
You seemed to consider the question. Or maybe fight it. It was hard to tell now. The serum had started to wear at you in waves, dragging honesty up at odd intervals and punishing you when you tried to push it back down.
Finally, you said, “Probably.”
Sam’s face shifted. “That sounded real.”
“It was.”
Bucky slid carefully out from under you. The second your head left his lap, your eyes shut tighter and your hand went to your stomach.
“Easy,” he said.
“I hate cars.”
“You used to jump out of them.”
“I hated them then, too.”
Bucky got out first, then opened the back door on your side. Cold air slid into the SUV, and you shivered once, hard enough that Bucky stopped thinking about anything except getting you inside.
He leaned in. “C’mere.”
“I can walk.”
“Didn’t ask.”
“Yeah, it’s implied by the way you’re looming.”
“You gonna fight me?”
You opened your eyes and looked at him.
For half a second, he saw the urge. Not a real fight. Not tonight. Just the reflexive objection to being helped. The old, embedded thing in both of you that said needing someone was another way to get trapped.
Then your stomach turned again. Your face tightened, and the fight went out of you with a quiet miserable breath.
“No,” you said.
Bucky reached in and lifted you carefully, one arm beneath your knees, the other around your back. You were warm against him, too warm. Your head tipped into his shoulder like you were too exhausted to keep it up.
The movement made your dress shift against his hand, smooth fabric under his palm. He kept his grip careful. Clinical. Useful. He had carried injured people before. Soldiers. Civilians. Strangers bleeding out in places they never should have been.
That was not the problem.
You were not a stranger. You were not a mission. You were his wife, except not really. His chief of staff. His best friend. The woman who had spent the last car ride accidentally telling him just how attractive he was.
His ears went hot again just thinking about it.
He adjusted his hold and looked at Sam.
“I’ve got her.”
Sam nodded, but his eyes lingered on Bucky’s face for one second too long.
“Yeah,” Sam said quietly. “I know.”
Bucky carried you up the steps and into the townhouse. Sam followed with Bucky’s jacket, your bag, and the folded paper bag Bucky had kept ready in case you got sick again.
Inside, the house was dark except for the entryway lamp Bucky had left on before the reception. Your shoes were still near the console table from earlier. Your coat hung over the arm of the couch. A stack of your folders sat on the coffee table, one marked with a color-coded tab system Bucky did not understand but respected too much to disturb.
His house looked lived in now.
You shifted against him. “Don’t carry me like I’m consumptive.”
Sam shut the door behind you. “Do people still say consumptive?”
“She’s been using historical terms,” Bucky said. “Says she’s tryna ‘meet me where I’m at’ or whatever. But it’s a good sign. Poisoned and still doing her vocabulary.”
“I’m not poisoned,” you muttered into Bucky’s shoulder. “Just, ah, chemically inconvenienced.”
Bucky glanced down at you. “You gonna let me take care of you?”
Your eyes opened. The serum was still in you. He saw it in the way your expression flickered, in the tiny pause before you answered. A fight behind your face.
Then, quietly, “Yes.”
Bucky carried you upstairs. You were quiet against him now, your fingers resting near the collar of his shirt. He could feel the warmth of your breath through the fabric at his shoulder. Every few steps, you swallowed hard, and his grip tightened even though there was nothing more he could do.
He hated all of it.
The tea. The five drops. The look on your face when you had realized what he had done. The fact that you had spent the last hour fighting your own body because of something he had given you.
At the top of the stairs, he carried you into the bedroom and lowered you onto the edge of the bed. He meant to step back immediately, give you space, get water, get a towel, get anything useful.
But you swayed.
He caught you by the shoulders.
“Still with me?”
You looked up at him, your eyes were slightly glassy, but focused.
“Unfortunately.”
His mouth softened despite himself. “Yeah, there she is.”
Sam appeared in the doorway with your bag. “You want me to stay?”
Bucky looked at you.
You were already shaking your head.
“No. I cannot have you asking any more questions near my sickbed.”
Sam put a hand to his chest. “I’m wounded.”
“You’ll live.”
Bucky took your bag from him. “I’ll call if anything changes.”
Sam’s expression sobered again. “You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Drink water,” Sam told you.
You lifted one hand without looking. “Goodbye, porch auntie.”
Sam laughed softly and left. Bucky heard the front door close downstairs.
Too quiet.
He stood by the bed, your bag in hand, watching you breathe through another wave of nausea. You pressed your fingers to your mouth, eyes shut, shoulders tight beneath the straps of your dress.
Bucky moved immediately.
“Bathroom?”
You shook your head once.
“Bowl?”
You nodded.
He grabbed the small trash bin from beside the desk, emptied the papers into a pile on the floor, and set it beside the bed. Then he went into the bathroom for a washcloth, ran it under cool water, wrung it out, and brought it back.
When he pressed it gently to the back of your neck, your whole body loosened by a fraction.
“Thank you,” you said.
He sat beside you, leaving space. “You need anything else?”
“My pajamas.”
“Okay.”
“And help.”
Bucky went still.
You seemed to realize what you had said only after it had left your mouth. The serum had loosened you enough to ask for something before pride could cut it down.
“I can do it,” you said immediately.
The lie hit you fast.
Bucky reached for the bowl, but you pressed a hand to your stomach and breathed through it.
“You don’t need to lie,” he said.
“I hate this.”
“I know.”
“I hate asking.”
“I know.”
He did. Better than most.
He kept his voice low. “I’ll help however you want. You tell me what to do.”
Your hands went to the side zipper of your dress, clumsy with exhaustion. Bucky looked away at once, but not before he saw the strap slide down your shoulder.
He turned to the wall, jaw clenching.
Behind him, fabric shifted. The dress hit the floor with a soft sound. Bucky stared at the paint like it contained answers.
It did not. It was just a wall. A very lucky wall.
“Barnes.”
His voice came out rough. “Yeah?”
“You can turn around. I’m not naked.”
He turned carefully.
Bad idea.
You were sitting on the edge of the bed in your bra and underwear, one arm wrapped around your stomach, hair mussed from the car ride, cheeks flushed from the serum. The washcloth had slipped from your neck to the mattress. Your dress lay pooled at your feet like it had surrendered.
Bucky’s brain stopped being useful.
He had seen you in evening gowns, tactical gear, sweats, blood, rain, a hospital blanket, his sweatshirt in the kitchen that morning. None of that had prepared him for this. For the ordinary intimacy of you half-undressed in his bedroom, too tired to posture properly, looking up at him.
He forced his eyes up to your face.
Your mouth curved faintly. Even sick you noticed.
“Don’t pass out, dreamboat.”
“I’m fine.”
“Sounded like a lie.”
“Wasn’t.”
“Mm.”
You leaned back on your hands. “Top drawer on the left. Pajamas.”
“Left dresser?”
“Yes.”
He moved too quickly, crossing to the dresser and opening the top left drawer. He froze.
Not pajamas.
At least, not only pajamas.
The top layer contained silk and lace, folded things in black and red and dark blue, fabric so delicate it barely looked capable of existing in daylight. It took his brain half a second to understand what he was looking at.
Then his entire body went hot.
Bucky shut the drawer halfway on instinct, then stopped because he still needed the damn pajamas.
“They’re in there,” you said behind him.
His eyes closed.
Of course they were. Of course your pajama drawer also contained lingerie. Of course he had opened it while you sat half-dressed on the bed behind him, sick and trusting and completely unaware that his mind had just betrayed every decent intention he had.
He stared at the drawer again. Pajamas. Find pajamas. He moved a black lace thong with two fingers, like it might explode. Before he could stop himself, he was imagining you in it.
You standing in this room with the lamp low and that sharp little smile on your mouth. You telling him to touch you, and him obliging you instantly. The feeling of the thin lace against your hot skin. Your legs tossed over his shoulders carelessly.
And then he imagines you wearing it for someone else. Letting someone else see the softness under all that armor. Someone else’s hands at your waist. Someone else pulling the straps down. Someone else making you laugh in a bedroom that was not his.
His stomach twisted.
Because of course you owned lingerie. You were an adult woman with a life before this fake marriage and a body that did not belong to him. Of course there had been other men. Other women, maybe. Other names. Other rooms. Other hands.
The ring on your finger was not a claim. The house was not a claim. The bed was not a claim. The word wife was not a claim, not the way he wanted it to be, not when you had agreed to stay married because it was safer than the scandal and not because you wanted him in any of the ways that kept him awake at night.
Still, the thought burned and he hated himself for it.
He hated that some small, ancient, selfish part of him wanted to know whether any of that lace had been worn for someone specific. Whether you had packed it because you planned to wear it again. Whether you had folded it into his dresser like a normal thing because, for you, it was normal.
“Everything okay?” You asked.
“No,” he said, because apparently your truth serum had become contagious.
You laughed weakly. “Find something scandalous, old man?”
He cleared his throat. “Pajamas.”
“Mmhmm.”
He found them at last beneath a folded slip he refused to examine too closely. Soft cotton shorts. An oversized T-shirt. Not his, thank God, because he was not built for that tonight. He closed the drawer with more care necessary and turned back.
His face felt hot.
You noticed immediately. Your eyebrows lifted.
“Oh.”
”Don’t.”
“What did you see?”
“Pajamas.”
“You are an abysmal liar. Are you blushing?”
“No.”
“You are.”
“I’m not.”
He held the pajamas out without stepping too close. “Here.”
You took them, fingers brushing his.
And then, with absolutely no warning and no apparent concern for his survival, you reached behind your back for the clasp of your bra.
Bucky spun around so fast his metal hand clipped the dresser.
The drawer rattled.
You started laughing.
He faced the wall. “What? You’re changing.”
“I was also changing thirty seconds ago.”
“I wasn’t looking thirty seconds ago.”
“You absolutely looked.”
“By accident.”
“Sure.”
He stared at the wall with the grim focus of a man trying to survive interrogation.
“You’re very committed to the gentleman act,” you said.
“It’s not an act.”
You made an unconvinced sound.
The bed shifted as you pulled on the t-shirt.
“Decency restored.”
When he turned around, you were in bed, or halfway there, sitting against the pillows in the oversized shirt and shorts. Your hair was loose around your face. Your skin still looked too warm. The bowl sat on the nightstand beside a glass of water.
He sat on the edge of the bed, far enough away that there was space between you. He wanted to touch your forehead. He wanted to check your pulse. He wanted to keep his hand in your hair until the tight line around your mouth went away.
“Serum wearing off?” He asked.
You nodded slowly. “I think so. It’s less loud.”
“Loud?”
“The honesty feels… loud.”
His throat tightened. “I’m sorry.”
You closed your eyes. “You already apologized.”
“Still.”
“I know.”
“You asked me not to self-flagellate.”
“I did. Very wise of me.”
“Trying not to.”
Your eyes opened. Softer now. Exhausted.
“You didn’t mean to.”
“That doesn’t make it okay.”
“No.” You looked at him for a long second. “It was an accident.”
He nodded.
Bucky should have left it there. He should have told you to sleep, turned off the lamp, gone downstairs, called Sam, and spent the next several hours hating himself in the kitchen like a gentleman.
Instead, he heard your voice in the car again.
The eyes are worse.
He knew better. Knew you were still under the serum, knew asking near the edges was unfair. But the words had been inside him since the car, pressing against old wants he had spent months burying under strategy and restraint.
He looked at you.
“Did you mean what you said?” He asked.
Your fingers tightened around the blanket and he regretted it immediately.
“Sorry,” he said. “Don’t answer that.”
“No.” You swallowed. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not.”
”I can answer.”
“You don’t have to.”
You looked toward the window, then back at him. Your eyes were clear enough now that he let himself hope the serum had eased.
“In the car,” he said carefully. “You said some things.”
“I said many things.”
“Yeah.”
Bucky looked down at the ring on his hand. “I know you were dosed. I know it wasn’t fair. I’m not asking because I want to hold you to anything.”
“Then why are you asking?”
Because I love you.
Because I need to know if there is any part of this that is real for you too. Because every day in this house is killing me a little and I would thank you for it if you asked.
He did not say any of that.
Instead, he said, “I don’t know.”
You watched him for a long moment. Then your expression changed.
“Bucky,” you said. “We’re friends.”
He held still.
You continued, voice careful. “We’re friends. And colleagues. And we get along better than most people who accidentally end up married for press management reasons.”
He felt something in him begin to shrink.
You gave a small shrug, eyes not quite meeting his now.
“I meant what I said in the obvious way. You’re attractive. That’s just… objective information. Like weather. Or the fact Sam talks too much.”
He tried to smile.
“So that’s all?”
You hesitated a fraction, then nodded.
“That’s all.”
The words landed entirely too cleanly.
Bucky had been shot before. Stabbed. Frozen. Cut open and remade into something else. He knew pain in plenty of forms.
This one settled heavy behind his ribs.
Right. Of course. Friends, colleagues, fake spouses. Two people who worked well together and had made a bad decision in New Orleans. That was all it had ever been for you. That was all he had any right to expect.
He nodded once.
“Right,” he said, “of course.”
You looked at him then. Something flickered across your face, but he was already standing, already turning away because he could not sit there and let you see all of it.
“You should rest,” he said.
“Bucky—”
“I’ll be downstairs. Bowl’s there. Water too. Call if you need anything.”
His voice sounded normal. That was good. He had practice.
Bucky crossed to the door and paused with his hand on the frame. He did not look back. If he looked back, he might do something embarrassing, like ask again or apologize or tell you the truth when you didn’t want to hear it.
“Try to sleep,” he said.
Then he left, shutting the bedroom door behind him.
Bucky Barnes had survived wanting things he could not have before. He would survive this too.
He went downstairs, not seeing you grab the bowl he had left beside the bed and bend over it, shaking and miserable as your body rejected the words you had forced through your teeth.
That’s all.
You had lied.
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