#barah

He reaches into the generator again, the stretch pulling his body into one long, taught line as the t-shirt rides up in the back, showing off hard muscle and tan skin.

His hand slips from whatever he's trying to reach and someone hands him a small rag. He seemingly uses it to get a good hold of what he's working on as it reappears, grease-stained, only to be tucked haphazardly into his back pocket. He doesn't ever come out of the stretch.

Sarah feels flushed. Heat she can't blame on the summer air climbing up from the pit of her stomach, spreading through her chest as it reaches into the back of her throat. He's been doing this to her all day.

They've held a yearly community-wide auction to support the local YMCA for as long as she can remember. Sarah has catered the event for the last 4 years, ever since Mrs. Deveroux's arthritis got too bad, but Sam hasn't been to one since long before the snap. He'd been in town for this one and was only too happy to tag along and, of course, if she and Sam were going, then Bucky wouldn't be far behind.

She's still used to him, more often than not, being all covered up in public with his gloves and jacket on, but Delacroix has been having one hell of a heatwave and apparently, the heat still affected super soldiers. He'd come downstairs this morning, hair still damp from the shower, in a grey t-shirt that stretched just right over the width of his shoulders and light-wash jeans that drew the best kind of attention to his long, long legs. She’d been shocked and pleased when he hadn’t grabbed the jacket or gloves in the chaos of leaving the house this morning, touched by the kind of trust it reflected.

She's had her eye on him since they got here, at first just to make sure his trust was repaid with kindness, only to be taken back by how much it meant to her to have him move around the people here, her people, so comfortably. She also hadn’t counted on what it would do to her to have him so… exposed (practically indecent, her mind supplies) in public and, honestly, Sarah's not sure how much more her blood pressure can take. And that was before the damn generator went down.

Without the generator, they've lost the standing fans that were lazily pushing the humid air around and they'll likely have to end early without the outdoor lights. Luckily, James, who is a deft hand with a toolbox, took one look at the ancient Westinghouse and said he could take care of it about 15 minutes ago. She hasn't known peace since.

He leans back and says something to Sam who responds, then digs through the toolbox and hands something back to James. He wipes at his forehead with the back of his hand, the move this time exposing just a hint of his abs and the sharp jut of his right hip. She's not proud of it, but she's pretty sure the sound she makes is a whimper.

"-don't think I'm in the wrong, do you? Sarah?" Her name on Maribel's lips reminds her that she is taking part in a conversation. Or well, that she's supposed to be at least.

She looks over at Mari who's staring at her expectantly. Sarah clears her throat and brings the handheld electric fan closer to her face, hoping the air will cool her down.

"Er, yes?" She tries. Maribel frowns. "I mean, no. No, definitely not."

"Sarah," Mari all but whines. "I'm being serious here. What has got you ignoring me so ha- oh." Mari swallows the end of her sentence as she turns, following the direction of Sara’s gaze. Sarah ducks her head, feeling her cheeks heat even further.

Maribel leans heavily against the table now at her back, hands folding lightly over her floral romper as she smirks, slow and dirty. "Ok, I take back all the terrible names I just called you."

Sarah frowns, turning to face her sharply. "You didn't call me any terrible names."

Mari shrugs, eyes not leaving James. "Not out loud I didn't,"

Sarah smacks her lightly on her bicep, ignoring the outraged yelp. "I'm sorry,-" she sighs. "-he's just been gone for a while, you know. He went with Sam to that meeting in Norway then all that Avenger's stuff happened in England with that new group... The Immortals? The Eternals? So, it's been a while you know " Sarah finishes, turning rest lightly against the table at her back, her shoulder pressing into Mari who is warm and familiar.

"Girl, my single ass gets it.” Mari states tiredly before tilting her head as she smiles slyly. “He is looking damn good today, isn't he?"

They watch James lean over into the belly of the machine once more, calling out some instruction to Sam. Something happens then, and the generator hums back to life, strings of fairy lights twinkling back into existence all over the property as the fans restart their slow rotation. There is a smattering of delighted laughter and applause as he stands, pulling the rag from his back pocket to clean his hands, shoulders loose, his posture open and relaxed. Sarah sighs, yeah, he looks good today but also just plain happy, and honestly, she's not sure which one is affecting her more.

Sam mutters something, pointing at them with his chin, face dropping into an exasperated frown. James looks over his shoulder in their direction, but if Sam thought that would embarrass her he has another thing coming.

James' eyes widen momentarily in pleasure before he smiles at her, head tilting slowly. Her answering smile is slow and sweet like the drip of honey.

"You know, why don't I keep the boys for a bit this evening," Mari says conspiratorially. Sarah's attention snaps back to her and she pushes off the table to stand.

"No, you don't have to do that. I'll be here a while anyway. It's fine really."

"Girl, I love you and if all I have to do to get you magnificently laid is spend some time with my favourite god-babies that's exactly what I'm gonna do." Maribel speed mutters out the side of her mouth before she paints an overly sweet smile on her face, spinning to face James as he approaches. "Barnes," she tips her soda at him, strolling away with a smirk and a very unsubtle wink.

"Maribel," he greets politely, staring after her with a bemused expression. Sarah's gonna kick that girl the next time she can.

"I feel like even without my years as the Soldier, I'd still find her confusing." He muses. Sarah just hums, not really having an answer to that.

She reaches for the over large foil containers of food spread out around her table and starts to consolidate the food, scraping the half empty containers into each other to give her hands and mind something else to do other than self immolation.

"Enjoying your evening?" He murmurs, the richness of his voice seeming to curl over her shoulders to trail languidly down her spine.

"Ye-" she has to stop to clear her throat, voice coming out unreasonably high. "Yeah. Best turn out we've seen in years." She replies.

"I'm sure the 'Win a date with Captain America' auction had nothing to do with it."

Sarah laughs. Mrs. Rodriguez had won that, a lovely widow in her early 80s that didn't look a day over 60 and didn't act a day over 40. She's sure she'll show her brother a good time.

"I'm not sure Sam's gonna be able to forgive me for talking him into that this morning."

James just shrugs, the move doing something delectable to his shoulders in that shirt. "I'm sure he'll be fine. I'll give her a strict talking to before they leave. Remind her that Sam's not that kind of boy and there should be no shenanigans."

She huffs out a laugh, finally giving up the busy work to look at him, hip cocked into a lean on the table as his eyes glitter at her in delight.

"I'm sure Sam'll appreciate you looking out for his honour like that,"

He just smiles at her, lower lip curling into his teeth, gaze unshakeable. Her skin starts to heat again under his attention.

"Can I help you with something, Sargent?" She asks, flipping her hair as she meets his stare head on.

He flicks his eyes down her body before turning to gaze out at the party going on around them in an impressive show of nonchalance. "Nah, just didn't want you straining your eyes. Figured if you were gonna stare, you might as well do it from up close."

She scoffs, the noise as affronted as she can make it.

"I'm sure I don't know what you are talking about."

"No?" He asks, the head tilt coming back full force, that tendon in his neck that she likes to nibble on standing out. "I don't know if you know this sweetheart, but it's kind of my job to know when I'm being watched."

He's playing with her. With his little 'sweetheart' comment and his stupid arms crossed over his stupid chest. She decides to change tactics.

"And if I was? It's a free country last I checked. I'm allowed to look long and hard at anything that strikes my fancy, besides, you don't mind do you?" She murmurs, leaning into his personal space.

His eyes drop to her lips as his breathing gets a little deeper, the tips of his ears going pink. It's one of his few tells.

His gaze flicks back up to hers and the heat in it is electric. She feels pinned in place, heartbeat dancing wildly as her skin runs cold then hot, feeling tight and ill fitting. She wants to leave. Wants to steal him away to some corner where she can kiss and touch until she's dizzy with it.

She swallows thickly, her tongue suddenly heavy and dumb with the force of her want. It seems too indulgent to steal time, not something an adult should do, but heaven help her, he makes her feel reckless.

"Um, you know, Mari is going to keep the boys for a while, Sam is all set for his evening of romance and while the music is about to pick up… I don't much feel for dancing tonight."

The tips of his ears go even redder as he ducks his head, and she can't help her smile. Sometimes she gets Bucky Barnes, the world class flirt and sometimes it's just James, who is still endearingly and heartbreakingly startled by the fact that she finds him attractive.

"Is that so?" He asks, voice barely more than a murmur.

She grins at him, overly toothy and not at all seductive, but it's what he brings out in her.

"Mmhm. I'm probably gonna head home soon, and you should definitely come with me."

"I should?" He asks, all faux confusion and innocence.

She shrugs "Like you said, staring at you from afar is not good for my eyes so… it's for science."