therightagent | (no subject)

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Much as she feels like a piece of shit for giving Steve that hurt look on his face, she still figures it's better she keep her distance for now. It's what she came to the Tower to do, and it's supposed to be good for her. So she spends the next couple days sitting around in her rooms, sometimes watching whatever movies Stark's AI recommends for her, sometimes staring at the wall and thinking about nothing.

After that, the voice of the house politely suggests that she may benefit from venturing outside for at least a little while until she finally leaves just to shut it up. Bucky picks a direction at random and starts walking, left cybernetic hand - the only thing visible underneath her long sleeves - shoved into her pocket to hide it from view. Finding some kind of disaster is honestly one of the last things on her mind, but she still somehow finds herself staring at a house fire. The emergency workers have the actual fire under control - she hears them say something about keeping it from spreading and letting it burn itself out in the one building - but she also overhears a few of them talking about how unstable the structure's gotten and if they can send anyone in to check for a kid that's still unaccounted for, and she just. Runs.

It's a house, thank god, not an apartment, so there's a limited number of rooms to search. The place is unstable, though, and she finds herself eying floors and walls and the ceiling, trying to gauge how much strength they've got left in them. Bucky finds the kid trapped behind a piece of caved-in ceiling and hugging a golden retriever that's more ash-colored than yellow at this point. When she clears a path to him, putting that metal arm of hers to use for once, he blinks at her in confusion. "Are you Captain America?"

For a second, she wonders if he's hallucinating, but then she realizes that the jacket she'd grabbed on the way out had been one of the ones Stark left for her, and it's covered in a large picture of Steve's shield. "No, not him. Know him, though. Come on." She offers out a hand and curses her own stupidity when she realizes she'd unthinkingly offered him the metal one. Not a great idea; not only does it cause the kid to flinch back a little, but she figures it's absorbed a hell of a lot of heat at this point. "No, it's okay, look - " She switches to her other hand swiftly, showing him that it's flesh-and-blood. "I'm human. I'm just a little bit robot."

He lets her grab hold of him and the dog, then, and she clears another path out of the building, asking him his name (Jeffrey) and the dog's name (Oscar) and chatting with him quietly about how she knew Captain America when he was just some punk kid in Brooklyn, until she's got them in the clear. After that, it's all questions and concern and someone sticks a microphone in her face and asks her if she's a new Avenger when she tries to say something about going back to the Tower, and it's all too much and she just bolts.

Bucky doesn't even realize she's lost until the phone in her pocket starts ringing out, and she finds that JARVIS has sent her directions on how to get back along with a recommendation that she allow herself to be checked over for injuries and smoke inhalation. It's still almost half an hour before she's finally making her way through the doors, and that's just... worse, honestly, because the bottom couple floors of the Tower contain public space and people who are somewhat inclined to stare when a woman enters the building who's covered in ash and a few burns that are already healing and smells like smoke.

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Bucky leans against the door frame, arms wrapped around her middle. "You regain the ability to get drunk while on ice?"

"Unfortunately, no. I just like to enjoy a drink now and then." Not really and she'd been around enough to know the words for what they were, a complete lie. He sipped at the drink again, glancing over at her.

"Sure you do."

She doesn't move from her spot, like some physical distance might help her talk to him. "Look, I'm... If I got nothing else out of decades of brainwashing and torture and having all my memories ripped from me whenever I started to remember anything about who I was, I figure I got the right to be pretty fucked up about myself.

"And I hate that you're seeing me like this. I hate that sometimes I do crazy shit like hide in the closet all night, and that that's still me better. So yeah, I wish you would move on and find some girl who didn't have to relearn how to be treated like a person and it'd break my heart, but I've survived a lot of things breaking.

Not if it breaks yours, though."

He looked over at her again, frowning. "I know you're messed up, Bucky, and I know you have the right to be messed up about yourself, but..." He hesitated, sighing and brushing his fingers through his hair.

He sat the drink down and stood up, hesitating a moment before walking closer. "I have bad times too. I have nightmares and for the first few months after I got unfroze I wouldn't sleep. I stayed up all night destroying punching bags. I just wish you would see that you are amazing."

"I don't know if I can," she answers, as honestly as she can. "I don't know if I can look at myself in a mirror and see something better than Hydra's attack dog. And maybe the best I can do right is try to believe that you can see it."

"I just want you to try." He walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her slowly. "I love you, Bucky. I just want you to be happy."

"I know," she says, and if her voice sounds a little thick with emotion - she's allowed. "I know, Steve. I'll try."

He looked down at her, cupping the side of her face before leaning down and pressing his lips to hers in a soft kiss. He brushed her hair back out of her face, leaning his forehead against hers.

Oh. She wasn't really expecting that at all, and even though it's gentle, it still somehow manages to knock the breath out of her. Bucky lets out a sigh when it ends, and her eyes are bright and a little wet but she's not going to cry, because she refuses to.

He smiled, looking at her for a moment before chuckling, ducking down and scooping her up into his arms. He carried her to the couch, sitting and holding her in his lap.

"What the - " Bucky gives an undignified flail before finding her balance just in time to end up in his lap. "I can walk, Steve!"

"I know you can. Maybe I just like picking you up." He teased, chucking softly and kissing her cheek. "I know you're supposed to be staying on your own...but will you stay tonight?"

"It's revenge for something, isn't it," she mutters grumpily, but more for show than anything else. Then she gets a thoughtful look in her eye, not quite sure what he's thinking of. " - Yeah."

"Yeah?" He asked, watching her for a moment before wrapping his arms around her. "I want to take you out tonight. I kinda promised I would, after all."

She snorts quietly. "I think that was if you drowned me in Captain America toys, actually."

"Okay well...I want to take you out regardless." He said, watching her face. "You don't have to say yes though...if you don't want to." He said quietly, kissing her cheek.

"- Yeah."

She ducks her head a little. "Just... nothing too big? The last time I went out, I ended up with a house fire. I think I've had enough hectic."

"Yeah? Yeah of course...nothing big. We can go get something to eat and then maybe just come back here and...I dunno. Watch something or we could just...listen to music and curl up together." He smiled wider, having not expected her to say yes.

And there it is. She'd missed that smile, honestly, forgotten what it looked like when she was trying to run away from this. "Okay. I think... I can do that."

Steve leaned in, kissing her softly before nudging her lightly. "Why don't you go pick out an outfit and take a shower to get the ash off and I'll come down in a little bit?"

Before she can answer him, the voice of the house gently interrupts. "Captain, if I may, Sergeant Barnes is currently the subject of vigorous media scrutiny. I will do my utmost to ensure your privacy, of course, but I cannot guarantee that leaving the Tower at this time will fulfill the Sergeant's request for a non-hectic evening."

There's a delicate pause.

"You may also wish to discuss what to tell the media. I'm afraid it's only a matter of time before someone links the Sergeant's appearance to surviving images of her from the 40s."

Oh. Oh, Christ, she hadn't thought about that.

He looked at her before sighing and rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, what do you want to do? We can leave the information about the images and you still being alive and young to Coulson at the new SHIELD, but the rest...what do you want to do?"

He rubbed her back and her side, leaving the choice completely up to her.

"I... I don't know." She lets her head drop down. This day has been... a hell of a lot more than she expected, and it feels like it's starting to close in on her, finally. "Do I have to decide right now?"

"No, you don't. We'll just order out and have something delivered and we can stay here and spend the evening together." He kissed her temple with a smile.

"Okay. Okay, I can do that." She pauses. "Should probably still shower, though."

"Yeah. You can use my shower if you want. I could grab a shirt and some sweats that you could probably wear?" He offered, smiling at her.

"I think you overestimate the similarity of our sizes," she answers dryly. There are few women who could comfortably wear something fitted to him without looking like they're swimming in extra material. "Won't hurt to try, though."

"I could always loan you one of my shirts and a pair of boxers. Those would work better and the shirt would probably come down far enough to cover everything anyways..." He smiled sheepishly. He really just didn't want her to leave. He was worried if she did she wouldn't come back.

Her lips twitch up in what might be a smirk, some of the old teasing coming back. "You just want to see me in one of your shirts, don't you."

"Well I admit, that would be kinda nice..." He said, smiling and chuckling softly.

Her smirk brightens a touch. "Sure, pal."

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