[He didn't expect her to ask him over that very night, so her invitation comes as a surprise, but not an unwelcomed one. And as unexpected as this is, Bucky finds that he can't turn her down, no matter how nervous it might make him. He'd spent the night before wide awake, wondering how taking her up on her drunken dare would have felt. He wants to know, more than anything in the world right now, and Nat is right: waiting isn't going to do anything other than worsen his desire for her. And hers for him too, apparently.]
I think this is the first time I wish I could fly.
I'll be there as soon as traffic lets me.
[A little under forty-five minutes is what it takes him to get to her place from his, and that's only because he didn't always follow traffic regulations. He loves Brooklyn, but at times, he forgets how much busier the whole city has become.
He's leaning against her apartment's doorframe when she opens the door, a small, almost nervous smile on his lips:]
[The silo trembles lightly when she blows the land mines and Bucky can't help but to frown as he flexes his metal hand a few times. These are serious measures to make sure he can't get out, or be extracted easily. He's pretty sure this whole setup has been planned as a trap for anyone coming to rescue him. Whoever managed to kidnap him did leave him with his phone, meaning that they expected him to call for help. He wonders for a moment if this was meant for Sam, seeing as the landmines were probably placed to explode when he'd landed to help him out. The whole thing pisses him off to no end, but luckily, Nat's playful flirting breaks through his anger, and while he works at pushing down the thoughts that growing closer to her might put her in even more danger, her words still manage to make him smile:]
What can I say? I tend to leave an impression on people.
[It's a good thing that he's in the dark and that she can't see him, because that definitely brings heat to his cheeks, and he laughs lightly:]
All right, I promise not to let myself get barbecued. Not that it would change anything.
[He'd heal fairly quickly anyway. But still, he moves aside as Nat lasers a door for him, and once she calls him out for it, James reels back with his left arm, and punches the opening with more force than necessary, spending out some of that frustration. Vibranium hits against metal and the carved piece is thrown back almost a hundred feet before Bucky emerges from the silo, his human hand coming up to shield his eyes from the harsh light outside.
Once his eyes get accustomed, he drops his hand and looks at Natasha with a warm smile, the scent of fresh air already helping him to calm down:]
Aren't you a sight for sore eyes, doll.
[All James wants is to pull her into his arms, but he stops himself, not trusting that are not watched by whoever set the whole thing up.]
We should get out of here, I wouldn't be surprised if people were coming for me.
[When he knocks on her door an hour later, he's followed her instruction to a t, wearing sweatpants with his softest under a hoodie, except for his combat boots. Where one or five knives might have been hidden out of habit.
He nods once as she lets him in:]
Did I miss anything good yet?
[He means in regards of the pre-ball drop show, of course.]
I'll see you when you get here. Don't do anything I wouldn't.
[That's not a whole lot when it comes down to it. Natasha has very few limits in her life. She's turned the whole thing around by working for what she really thought was the right side of government, but some of that had been a mistake too. One day she'll get it right, as long as she keeps taking steps forward and not backwards. Nat knows that what she's doing makes a difference in the long run.
Maybe even the small steps, the personal ones like this make some sort of a difference. It doesn't seem like a whole hell of a lot, but opening the door to Bucky and letting him into her world is bigger than it seems on the outside. He's gets her on a level than not many others can, and to be physical with someone like that is a little dangerous, even more so than she usually is.
Fuck if she can't help the smile that quirks her lips up at the corners when she catches him all perfect and sturdy against her doorframe like that. It's any woman's fantasy. Yet she's got him right here in her reality. ]
Hey there yourself, good looking. Why you standing out there in the cold. Get your sweet ass in here.
[Moving aside she lets him in, and waves her hand forward toward the living room where there's a generous fire going by the couch.]
[If Natasha knew that Bucky would be joining her tonight, she might have gone shopping for the occasion. After all, she does have a terrible addiction to buying lingerie. Instead, she stays true to at least the first part she had for the evening. The fireplace is lit like usual, and Natasha easily greets her guest at the door wearing her robe as planned.
The TV sounds in the background with some terrible person crooning over the speakers. She rolls her eyes as she turns back towards it.]
Hey there. No, I don't know who they got to sing for this show, but I need to change the channel because this is worse than when you and Steve trying to sing your rendition of Jingle Bells the other day. I think the guy is older than you both too.
[She laughs and pulls him in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek, nosing against him softly before taking his hand and bringing him back to the couch.]
Wine? I'm still chilling the champagne for when the new year hits. I can get you a beer if you'd rather?
[There's no small amount of worry that runs through Natasha's mind as she goes through the process of freeing James from the Silo. It's a whole lot of trouble that he's rolled himself up in, and someone really wanted him to stay there. Not only that, they were counting on his rescue team being pretty smug and not too careful. They were not counting on Natasha. She's riled up more than a little by the time that piece of metal comes flying out.
Nat's off to the side as the piece gets blown out into the haystacks. Taking her time she comes into view to meet his smile with hers. It only grows when she hears his relaxing tone of voice. It's no longer tight and pinched. Her shoulders drop about ten degrees and she can feel her breathing start to regulate again.
There might be people checking up on the joint, and Nat knows they don't have a long time, but she takes a step forward to pat him on the chest. It takes touch to make sure he's all in one piece. ]
You're a sight for mine alright. Good thing to see you in one piece. See that arm of yours still doing all the good it can.
[Nat reaches down and takes his gloved hand in hers and tugs at it so that she can bring him over to the plane. Once they get up in the air they'll have a few seconds to talk and maybe find out what's been happening and who might have the means to set up something so advanced to take out Bucky.]
[He walks into her apartment with a small smile, giving the place a quick look around as he takes off his leather coat. It feels more like her, more...warm and genuine than the Titans tower he visited on Christmas Eve. His gaze stops on one of her photographs showing a lush forest that covered hills and mountains, a tall waterfall in the background. He knows that place well: just beyond the mountain with the waterfall are the hidden boundaries of Wakanda. He would have to ask Donna about it, maybe once they've gone through at least the bottle of whiskey and a few orgasms. He chuckles lightly at her words:]
Well, I thought I sweetened the pot. You know, to cover for any shortcomings I might have. And my mom taught me to always be prepared.
[He leans over quite easily when she pulls him in for a kiss, and his vibranium arm wraps around her waist, pressing her body against his as he kisses her back. He doesn't let go of her when she breaks the kiss, instead running the tip of his nose against the bridge of hers:]
Mmm, it's nice to see you too, Donna. [He steals another quick but warm kiss from her lips before he asks:]
So. Booze or orgasms first?
[Why yes, he's hell bent on delivering onto his promise.]
[It was supposed to be just a stop on the Tour de Multiverse, this particular universe, a quick gander at a possible future for her and the Avengers. Or, that's what she thought this little visit would entail.
Turned out The Watcher had other plans.]
I do wonder at what point I should start calling you 'Meddler'.
[It's a light tease to the all seeing entity as she strode up to her target, a version of an old friend in a different universe. One where Steve Rogers was apparently now a conspiracy theory retired to the moon and the new Captain America had gone missing, which wasn't supposed to happen. Not here. Not in this universe.
Cue Carter finding herself trailing the tail of another super soldier out of time. She's not being particularly covert, even in street clothes, giving him enough of a berth for him to hopefully not feel too threatened. That and she wanted to view this Bucky's reaction to being followed, taking note of the path he chose and his behaviors.
Just enough leash to get a measure of the healed Winter Soldier.]
Really not seeing any shortcomings from where I'm standing, Bucky.
[ her eyebrows lift teasingly to the suggestion, roaming along his body as if to point out there's not much she could legitimately find fault with here. sex, snacks, and a guy who's a pretty solid match for her when it comes to abilities. they'll hold their own against each other just fine.
it helps that she genuinely likes him, though that's not the sort of thing Donna offers up easily. they're a half hour train ride away from each other, she's willing to take that for what it is and see where this goes. though it is, immediately, going to start with orgasms. she laughs at the thought of starting with alcohol first, reaching down to slide her hand into his - human or vibranium makes no difference to her, though she likes the warmth enough to reach for his human hand first.]
Oh, orgasms. Definitely orgasms.
[ so hopefully he won't mind if she leaves the food on the counter and drags him towards her bedroom - small enough that her bed takes up most of the open space, while simultaneously large enough that she has a good sized bed in there. her fingers are still twined around his when she pulls him in for another kiss, a little sharper this time now that they've found their starting place.]
[He knows when he's being followed, and he's known since the second block he's walked out of the subway that someone is watching his every moves. The great thing about New York City is that most buildings have glass windows as storefronts, and it makes it easier to notice being trailed, when one is so engrainedly trained to watch for that.
Still, James makes it seem like he hasn't picked up on his tail, and he weaves through the other pedestrian with the same speed as before, though his steps are taking him away from his primary objective: the Avenger Tower. The tower is the only place that has the necessary technology to try and find Sam after all. But Bucky isn't about to bring whoever is trailing him there directly. Even if the figure feels familiar, from what he can see in the glass reflection.
His steps bring him to a busy outdoor marketplace, and for a moment, he seems to disappear in the crowd. Only to reappear further down into the market. He does the same thing a few time, until he seemingly ducks into an alleyway by the exit of the market. But when followed there, the alleyway is empty, or at least it appears so, until whoever is following him is deep enough in the cul-de-sac. Bucky drops not-so-silently from his perch, effectively blocking the exit, his right hand raising his gun slowly. There's a clear light of recognition in his gaze when Peggy turns around, but it's short-lived as his eyes narrow:]
Who are you?
[The resemblance is uncanny, but Steve told him that this timeline's Peggy Carter had died six years ago.]
You can't laugh at me, but I really enjoy their pasta cacio e pepe. [He knows it's a pretty basic dish, but he's still working through all these new cuisines that became available since the 40s.] And Saladino's mother makes a killer cannoli. I think she thinks I keep going back just for those, because she's always leaving a plateful when I go.
Really? You know I'm gonna have to ask about those, because I'm not sure I believe you.
You know this is definitely escalate going forward? He's going to want to top this off for your birthday. And mine too, I guess.
You know, I've always wondered what they're using for it these days. The cakes always looks so real. Back in my days, they all cardboard, and you would know they were fake. Today, not so much.
Ouch. I feel called out. But that's fine. I probably should get used to all that digital era anyway.
[It's a good thing that the cold December air has already colored his cheeks, hiding the soft blush that her words implied meaning. It's not that he doesn't know he's pleasing to eyes, he's rational enough to admit that, but James doesn't think he'll ever get used to hear about it.]
Sure, [he says as he exchanges the champagne for her gift, opening it carefully while she works on the bottle. He smiles a bit more widely when he figures out what her gift is: he might now be from the 40s, he still tries to keep up with technology, especially when it comes to weapons. And HYDRA had always made sure that his skills matched the advancement in weaponry anyway.]
Thank you Nat. Now I can bring everyone else to my technological level, [he jokes lightly, though his tone is grateful. This he can certainly use in fight one day.
He careful puts the EMP device and picks up the case he brought with him, offering it to her once she's opened the champagne bottle. The only wrapping on it is a red bow, but inside the case is what he promised: a brand new rocket launcher. Except that instead of being painted army green, its entirely repainted back, with subtle accents of red. With it comes a few different launching heads, giving many options should Nat ever needed it.]
It's not Soviet-made, though. I wasn't sure you'd want something from Russia. And I definitely did not want to shake old contacts for it. Hope that's okay.
[The super soldier would have been shocked if he allowed her to get the drop on him so easily. Even the Barnes from her world was sharper than that.
The weather's nice for New York and this time of year, so Peggy enjoys the walk, using the time to observe his tactics, this version of the City, and the direction he's taking her. It's not difficult to come to the conclusion that he's leading them away from that gaudy tower. Seems like some things are consistent no matter the universe, like Stark's decorative design preferences.
And then he ups his game at the marketplace. A tickle of a wry smile tugs at he mouth as she shifts where she looks, adapting as well. When she does step into the alleyway, there's a low expectation of him being there, and she's lifting her eyes to search the fire escapes when he drops behind her.
There's a bit of a sigh at the sound of his voice. The familiarity of it is comforting, even if it's clearly suspicious of her. She finally turns to face him, offering him a genuine, albeit bittersweet smile.]
Hello Bucky.
[She's certain he has questions, so she will wait patiently for them. Maybe after his hackles drop they can go somewhere more comfortable to chat. Until then, baby steps.]
[Bucky's smile widens when she greets him like that, an eyebrow rising slightly, her flirting emboldening him to tease her:]
Wow, already trying to butter me up, huh? [he says as he walks into her apartment, slipping the leather gloves off his hands, his coat following soon after while he kicks off his boots.
He's been in her apartment the night before, taking care of her drunken self, but this feels different. The intent of her inviting him over has been pretty clear moments before through their texting, and as much as he's nervous, James doesn't feel as uncomfortable as he's been before with other women on first dates. Not that this is a first date for them, but the fact that he trusts Natasha pretty deeply helps to ease his insecurities. There's no need to hide behind lies regarding his arm, his age, his past, and the thought of it is comforting. Freeing, even.
He moves to the living room, welcoming the warmth of the fire in the hearth: even if his internal temperature is hotter than most people because of the serum in his veins, he prefers by far being warm rather than cold. After decades in cryosleep and Siberia, if Bucky could never feel cold again, he would die a happy man.
He spots the glasses and bottle of wine on her coffee table, and he looks back at Nat before tilting his head slightly, amused:]
You sure you want to have wine after the night you had yesterday?
[Natasha half turns as she carefully works the cork off of the champagne, holding the bottle at an angle and moving slowly so it pops off easily into her hand. She takes a sip of the bubbly liquid and says a silent thanks to whoever ordered the alcohol for the night - it's really good.]
You've come a long way from your flip phone. [She tucks the cork into the pocket of her coat and smiles at him. It's obvious that he likes it. And she appreciates a good self-deprecating joke.
The bottle is handed off to him as she accepts the case and props it up on the table that's been left out up here. Even though she knows what he got her, there's still a look of pleasant surprise on her face as she pulls the lid up to look inside. Between the paint job and the custom heads, it's obvious that he put some thought into this. Is it weird that she finds that charming?
She looks over at him with a fond expression as she closes the lid and takes the bow off the top.] It's perfect. Did you paint it yourself? [She knows he didn't, but it shows that she recognizes the effort that went into procuring it. Moving back over to him, she sticks the bow to his chest as she leans in and presses a kiss on his cheek.] Thank you.
[It truly is something else to feel the rush of adrenaline caused by knowing that ... basically someone she likes, likes her back. It's a schoolgirl thing she never had time to experience when she was a schoolgirl, except this is so far beyond that. The complexities of layers that weave together to create the possibilities for a relationship like this are probably not even something the fates could have foreseen on one of their magical looms.
As it is, Natasha closes the door behind Bucky, and watches as he makes himself comfortable. Not many people feel this easy to be around. She can count them on two fingers. Clint and Bucky. Nat was also pretty easy around Steve too, but he would always be that really great friend that she wanted to meet someone whose heart was as pure as his was.
Watching Bucky by the fire makes her realize exactly how much she wants this, how much she really needs this, and she hopes that he does too. Swallowing down the sudden bundle of nerves inspired by her realization, Nat wanders over to him and slips her arms around his waist. She could waste time with hemming and hawing over how to broach him, but she was better at being direct, and this felt right, it felt...very right.]
I got it out in case we wanted a couple glasses while we talked, if you wanted to talk that is.
Can't say I mind that, at all. Besides, we can always shower together after, if you're up for it. Test how sturdy the ceramics on the shower walls are?
[Subtility went out of the door the moment she invited him back to her place, and Bucky has to admit that he likes this. No side-stepping and trying to figure out what she wants out of him.]
I'l be there in about three hours top. Sooner if I can.
[For a moment, he wonders how mad at him Sam would be if he just busts the doors out on the gang's operation and expedite the whole process.]
Sounds like a really good opportunity! You're okay with staying here?
[They never really talked about where they want whatever they have to go, and Bucky knows they probably should, but part of him has been wanting for her to stick in the Big Apple ever since their first night together. This is good news, for her, but for them too. Whether she wants something more serious or not.]
We should celebrate this tonight. Wanna have dinner with me? I just discovered this sushi place, we could go there?
Take your time. You're always welcome in my shower.
[Grace has just enough idea of what Bucky does to understand that sometimes it takes a while. She's not bothered by it; she can always tinker with some project or just lounge in bed watching TV until he comes back.
It's not like he didn't learn his way around the place yesterday. They had been quite animated with each other.]
Stay safe. And then just show yourself to the bedroom.
I'm gonna have to extend my lease, or maybe find another apartment, but yeah. I'd rather be where people want me to be.
[Grace has been living in a short-term rental, having figured she'd work in New York until it was safe to go back to Detroit. She'll have to talk to her landlord about making the living arrangement more permanent. And go through all the little details that come with an actual move. But New York isn't that much different from Michigan,`big and cold and with lots of places to get lost in.
And the most important part is that people here are asking her to stay instead of letting her go and disappear for a few months. They know her story and they still want her. And Bucky has always wanted her. What they have together, she can't replace and she doesn't want to.]
Sushi sounds fantastic. My place or yours afterward? Because I have a different kind of celebrating in mind after dinner.
[It's something they started to do a few months after her arrival, something Peggy told him that she used to share with Natasha, and Bucky knows they share one more friend that they lost. He's not exactly big on modern cinematography, but these movie nights are entertaining enough to keep his interest, especially when Peggy tells him that they made movies out of the Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit books. But tonight, they meet at her place, so it's ladies' choice.
Maybe if he hadn't been this exhausted, Bucky would have found the movie interesting, but an hour into that detention period with a bunch of kids, he's already nodding off. He's spent the better part of the last forty-eight chasing down leads regarding Sam's disappearance, and his lack of sleep is showing. He's completely out by the time the credit rolls, a rare sight to behold, even for the other Super Soldier.
The exhaustion triggers memories buried deep inside, the lingering thought of teenagers stuck in school bringing his mind back to a time when he used to prowl empty halls, except for the pitty patter of children walking to a military rhythm. Images of little girls learning ballet superimpose themselves to young women sparring with one another under the vigilant eyes of an older woman. His own hands twist a fragile arm around someone's back before he pushes the slim body of a petite blond into a brunette, the matriarch barking orders as he dodges the punches of an agile redhead.
The memory moves on to the same redhead training late into the night with him, drilling self-defence moves again and again, until her muscles can't move anymore and he watches with conflicted feelings as she collapses on the mat. She looks up at him with a small smile, and they are not in the training room, and the mats are not mats anymore and Bucky thinks he can remember the way she tasted, until the memories shift again to the matriarch pulling the redhead away from him, and his fist connects with some HYDRA guards, angry, hurt and desperate, and he hits another one and another one until something shocks him to his knees. Then there's only white, blinding pain and emptiness.
The last memory he sees of the pretty redhead is her face turning red, her hands trying to push away the metal hand around her neck, looking up at him hurt and desperate, her voice rasping out 'You could at least recognize me' even as his hand squeezes further.
Her words snap him out of the nightmare, and James sits up with a startled cry, drenched in sweat and breathing laboriously. He looks around, confused, not recognizing where he is at first. It's only then he realizes that his vibranium hand is clenching on something softer and warmer than a pillow, and blue eyes widen with horror when he sees that he's grabbed Peggy by the throat when he woke up from his nightmare. He drops his hand from her neck and instinctively retreats as far as he can from her on the couch.]
Fuck! Shit! Sorry! I...I didn't mean to...
Sorry...I'll go, [he says in a hoarse voice as he gets up from the couch, moving to grab his leather jacket on the coffee table, figuring Peggy might not want to be around him right now.]
[Truth be told, sometimes she takes advantage of it being ladies choice to throw in a selection that would have a higher probability of Bucky 'accidentally' dozing off. Usually she aligns these particular movies when the bags under his eyes reach an alarming shade of insomnia. And when he does drift asleep, Peggy makes certain he stays that way, even if that means getting trapped under under the other super soldier as a partial or full pillow.
Tonight, her plan had gone off without a hitch. So much so that she managed to carefully extricate herself from the couch, turn off the movie, and tuck him in before padding off to try and catch a bit of sleep herself.
Her own sleep's light enough that when he starts moving around in his sleep, it jolts her awake as though it was a threat. Realizing it's Bucky having a nightmare doesn't slow down her movements any, and soon she's reaching down to give his shoulder a bit of a squeeze and shake, murmuring his name with increasing volumes.
That had been a rookie night terrors mistake. It takes a split second for his vibranium arm to find her throat, quick as a viper strike, and then she's struggling for air that's utterly inaccessible.
Dazed by the general surprise of the attack, Peggy doesn't fight back until he's already caught her in a vice grip. First, she goes for the hand choking her, but it's locked down tight. Immovable. Realizing his face is just enough out of reach that an assault there would prove ineffectual, her other hand searches for something hard or sharp. All she can find are pillows and the edge of the couch itself, neither of which were any help.
It's right as her vision starts to narrow that his hand loosens.
She gasps for air immediately, coughing and pushing him back off her just as fast as he sits up. Even as the room spins, her eyes remain wide and locked on him, the light from the streetlamps outside illuminating the horror knitted into his features.
At some point, she opens her mouth to try to speak, but the pain halts her, instilling more coughing and a deep wince. Still, she reaches out to grab his wrist when he tries to leave, keeping him there.
It wasn't his fault. It was a nightmare and she got too close when waking him. It could have just as easily been here, minus the vibranium arm.]
No. [She finally rumbles roughly, but firmly, before her voice softens. He's not going. They're going to work through this and make sure they're both okay before he leaves. If he leaves.] I know... You didn't. Stay.
You might have mentioned it, but I never get tired of hearing it from you.
And if you give me an ETA, I can make sure I'm good and ready for you to do just that.
[She sends him several pictures this time. The first of her against her dresser, wearing a garter belt and the seamed stockings he loves so much, in exactly the position he suggested. The second is her sitting on the edge, legs spread wide in invitation, and a third of her with her fingers deep inside her, clearly playing as she managed to keep her head just clear enough to trigger the camera mid-moan.]
You can just come in as hard and fast as you like.
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