nerves_of_ice | [oom] i wake to sleep and take my waking slow

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main storyline

[oom] i wake to sleep and take my waking slow

The first few days after Bucky goes under are spent in data analysis and quality assurance. There's a lot of information in the human mind, after all. Much of it is messy and complicated and stored in structures that are interconnected in unexpected ways. And when it comes to a project like this, something that's never truly been done before with a biological mind versus synthetic structures and artificial intelligence, something that has the highest of stakes, there's no second chance and thus no room for error.

Shuri spends her time focused on the mission during the first few days, leaving the majority of the data integrity checks to her technical team. She reviews their work at the start and end of each day when she comes to check on her sleeping patient, making corrections to methods and systems and processes where needed. She makes sure that there are two untouched backups of the original digital representation stored safely at all times in case they have to start over. Finally, they're able to confirm that everything is prepared, that the digital representation is not only complete but stable, and that the real work is ready to begin.

Once the mission's done, she turns the weapon prototype and its blueprints over to a few of her most highly-trusted developers for analysis and immerses herself in Bucky's mind. She'd already drafted the initial algorithm, of course, and has spent nearly three months refining it against the initial scans, every additional scan she's done since, the data from the notebooks Bucky'd kept and the memories he'd written down. She doesn't think it'll take too long to finish it.

It takes weeks.

She ruins multiple copies of the digital representation in the first two weeks while testing the algorithm against it - first in simulation and then in practice. It's the practical part that turns out to be problematic. During the first few tests, her code destroys HYDRA's trigger programming as intended, but then also devours the memories attached to it and proceeds to spread like a virus through everything it can reach. The next series of tests fails to fully eliminate the triggers, and post-implementation simulation reveals that the damaged programming, if not fully removed, will destabilize the mind entirely over time, leaving the subject lost to madness or dementia or both. Shuri refuses to allow any of it. Even the possibility is too much. Nothing must be left to chance. Nothing of harm must be allowed to remain.

Meanwhile, silent in the cryo chamber, Bucky sleeps on.

They're into the third week before the first test is passed. All work comes to a halt in the lab as they stare at the displays. No one dares breathe until the test is repeated. When the second series of results flashes up on screen, showing success across every aspect, the lab explodes in cheers. Instead of becoming easier, Shuri's work becomes even more painstaking and demanding, as she sets out to ensure the smallest nuances are fully refined. She creates additional copies and runs the algorithm against them under high-strain conditions. She practices transitioning the new digital copy from server to server to server, trying to eliminate any and all possibility of data loss during transfer.

At the end of the third week, she sends for T'Challa.

____________________

The first thing he's aware of is the cold. This kind of cold he knows all too well. It chills all the way to the bone, pinning him in place with frigid air around him and a cold surface under him. He's too cold even to shiver. Bucky can't move or speak, or do anything at all other than lie still and quiet, listening to the soft hissing sound that's the only thing he can hear.

He drifts in and out of awareness for a while as the light around him gets brighter and the temperature starts to rise. It's not until there's a loud 'click' and the hum of the cryo chamber opening that he finally opens his eyes.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The last three weeks have chewed on every single one of her nerves in much the same way she's chewed on every single one of her nails and cuticles and destroyed them so completely that the manicurist she found in the city scolded her for ten minutes without stopping.

She's no scientist. For one thing, she doesn't have the background or the interest, and for another she lacks the patience. She'd been so alarmed by the catastrophic failure of the first few tests that Shuri had to order her out of the lab and then explain, very seriously and at length over a few strong drinks later on that 'this is how science works.'

Sharon didn't question her, but she did stay the hell out of the lab after that. Thus the nail-biting, and the getting yelled at.

And today? Today she's eerily still, her stomach in knots. Steve is back, a calm and steady presence that helps zero amount. This might not be a mission in crisis, but her body doesn't know the difference; it's trying to focus on how to get out alive and she has to keep reminding herself that nobody is shooting at anyone.

The tension is climbing in the rest of the lab, too. Even Shuri, always so cheerful and competent, is a little strained. Sharon hopes the poor girl sleeps for a day straight after all this. "We're ready," Shuri says, and from her spot near the chamber begins tapping on her tablet while Sharon and Steve position themselves near enough to be seen right away, far enough not to get in the way if he needs any immediate medical attention.

And then there's a hiss and the cryo chamber opens smoothly and for the first time in so long, he opens those beautiful smoke-blue eyes and that knot in her stomach migrates quickly to her chest and squeezes.

"Hey," she says. She can't stop smiling. "Up and at 'em."

He blinks uncertainly at her, then blinks at the blond man standing behind her as Steve says, "Hey, Buck."

After a moment, his gaze clears -- and he smiles.

"Steve." His glance shifts from his best friend to meet hers. "Sharon. Hi."

There's a second where it seems like – and her heart contracts, sharply –

And then his smiles in recognition and calls them by their names and she lets out a breath. "Hi, yourself," she says, and has to step aside as a beaming Shuri comes past. "Yes, yes, hello!" she says. "How are you feeling? Do you know where you are? Do you know who I am?"

Bucky glances around the room before he looks back at Shuri. "Seems like I'm still in the same room in your lab," he tells her. "So I don't guess you moved me anywhere - Princess."

Shuri laughs and shakes a finger at him, and he amends, "Shuri." He's smiling, a little, even as he smashes the hope that's trying to rise within him down flat. "I don't feel any different."

"No headache? Even a little?" She taps something on her tablet and produces an instrument from her pocket, then sets it gently against his temple. He holds still. "Any trouble with your vision?"

"No," he says, looking past her at the others. "And no."

She slips her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and smiles at him. Next to her, Steve is beaming like the sun just rose.

Shuri ignores them both and continues with her assessment. "Light-headed at all?" she asks, and gestures for one of the assistants to hand her a glass of water, which she passes to him to drink. "All your vitals look good," she tells him, "and the preliminary assessment of the procedure's success is looking good, too, though we will need to perform several more intensive tests.

Steve and Sharon don't react; they knew this was coming. She thinks Steve is planning to stay here with Bucky through the testing; for her part, she knows Ayo is just outside the lab, waiting.

Bucky obediently downs the entire glass of water, then nods. "Whatever you say," he tells Shuri, even as her words ring in his ears. Preliminary assessment. Success. Looking good. "I'm ready when you are."

He can't hope. He can't let himself hope. Not yet. For now, it's enough that he's awake as himself; he doesn't feel any different, although he's not sure how he'd know. But others would, especially Steve, and he fastens his spiraling fears to that anchor and sinks them deep.

Shuri's right. There are a lot of tests.

There are many, but before Shuri can whisk him away to do too many of them, Steve comes forward as Bucky steps out of away from the chamber and wraps his arms around his best friend in a bone-crushing hug.

(He gives good hug. She remembers.)

"Good to see you awake again, old man," Steve tells him. He claps Bucky on the back, and then it's Sharon's turn: she steps close and folds herself against him, her arms around his middle, her face pressed into his neck, and when she whispers "welcome back, baby," it's so quiet that nobody can hear it but him.

The strength of Steve's hug lets him know just how worried his friend was, deep down. Bucky puts his arm around Steve's body and holds on tight in turn until Steve pulls back and steps away.

He realizes why immediately as Sharon comes up to him. He draws her in, holding her close, and breathes in the scent of her hair as she murmurs a soft welcome. "I'm back. I'm here. It's okay," he says, just as quiet, and as reassuring as he can make it.

He hasn't taken all the tests yet... especially the most important one, the one he's not sure if Shuri even knows about. Maybe he shouldn't make any promises. But for now, in this moment, nothing else matters.

God, it's so good just to hear his voice; a little rusty, a little tired, but unmistakably him, and a few more of her worries fall away.

She could stand here and hold on to him for hours, but Shuri's waiting and there's a lot to do, so she finally pulls away and gives him a small smile, eyes warm and promising. "Steve's going to stay with you through the rest of your tests," she tells him. "I've got to go get some things organized. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay," he says, with a slightly-crooked smile of his own. Bucky nods to her, then to Steve, and finally straightens his shoulders as he shifts to face the patiently-waiting Shuri.

"All right. Let's do this."

She beams at him, claps her hands together, and beckons for him to cross the room with her. "Physical first," she says.

She watches him disappear through a door with Steve and Shuri and smiles to herself before heading to the lab proper, her strides quick and determined. As she comes out onto the train platform and sees the woman waiting there, her smile doesn't fade completely, but it does turn wry.

"He's awake," she tells Ayo, "and things are looking good on Shuri's end. Once they've finished with her tests..."

She doesn't finish. Ayo looks at her, not unsympathetic. "We will take the White Wolf up into the mountains," she says, indicating the small team of Dora. "I have arranged a spot far from others. There, he and I will complete the final test and ensure that he is truly free."

Sharon nods, wetting her lip. "Are you sure..." she starts, but doesn't finish the thought. Ayo is sure. And if there's anyone here who could keep the Winter Soldier from hurting others, it's her.

Ayo's gaze softens. "Go," she tells Sharon. "I will return him to you. Once it is safe."

"There are three kinds of tests," Shuri explains. Four, Bucky thinks, but keeps his mouth shut and listens, while beside him Steve does the same. "Physical, memory, and cognitive function."

Bucky stands up, sits down, stands on one foot and then the other, touches his nose with his eyes closed and open, and keeps going through an entire battery of physical tests, some more incomprehensible than others. "Did you have to do this?" he asks Steve, after he finishes a quick jaunt on the most complicated treadmill he's ever seen. Steve just grins at him. "Suck it up, Barnes."

Shuri swats Steve on the arm with her tablet and demands Bucky's full attention as she moves to the cognitive function tests. Bucky proves to everyone's satisfaction that his ability to think is still intact -- "as much as it ever was," he jokes, while Steve rolls his eyes -- and waits for the next set with more apprehension than he's letting show. His memory'd already been shattered by the repeated wipes before; what if--?

It nearly brings him to his knees to realize that not only is it still there, it's the same. He hasn't been patched like a malfunctioning robot or AI. He's been restored, to himself; his new self, hard-fought and hard-won and damaged, but undeniably him, scars and all.

When he meets Steve's eyes, his best friend's are bright with emotion. He doesn't realize that his own are, as well.

Nakia and T'Challa are waiting for her on the Citadel platform: she hugs the former and exchanges pleased smiles with the latter. "The tests are going well," T'Challa tells her as they walk into the Citadel, heading towards the garden room they'd requisitioned for the evening.

(She knows it's all premature until Ayo contacts them from the mountaintop, but –)

"Shuri has informed us that he passed both physical and cognitive with flying colors. And memory seems to be intact, though she is currently finalizing the results."

Sharon nods, another wave of relief swelling through her. He hasn't forgotten. He's still him.

And stupid as it may be, she knows, she knows that Ayo's test will prove that he really and truly is only him.

"Now," says Nakia, grinning brightly as she loops her arm through Sharon's. "Let us discuss details, yes?"

"It is done," Shuri says, tapping a final measure into the record and setting the tablet aside. "Your mind is restored, the way that we wanted it to be."

Steve slings his arm around Bucky's shoulders and hugs him tight, his beaming grin bright as sunlight as Shuri continues, "I have informed my brother. He and Nakia are waiting at the Citadel. Let us go, shall we?"

Bucky nods, and walks between them out of the lab, listening with interest as Shuri chatters the entire way. She's both exhausted and jubilant, he realizes, and she has every right to be. He won't ask about Ayo's whereabouts tonight. There'll be time for that - no matter what, he's no more of a danger to anyone than he was a few weeks ago, so it should be okay--

Lost in his thoughts, he nevertheless stops instantly when Steve steps in front of him, between him and the people who are waiting on the platform. Shuri breaks off her explanation, her voice scaling upward in surprise as she asks, "Ayo? Is something wrong?"

"Do not worry, princess," Ayo replies, calm and smooth. Bucky puts his hand on Steve's shoulder and squeezes it in reassurance. "I am here to collect the White Wolf, as planned."

"Planned?" Steve turns to him. "Buck, what's going on?"

"There's one more thing to test," he says, very softly, and sees shock followed by realization in his best friend's eyes. "I have to know, Steve."

She has not moved since Sharon Carter departed on a previous train. Two of her Dora stand in loose formation behind her, relaxed but ready, always ready, and now she watches Steve Rogers with a cool assessing gaze before she turns to the White Wolf.

"Come," she tells him without preamble. "All is ready. We will take a flyer from the top of the mountain."

As she expected, Captain Rogers steps forward. "Not without me, you aren't," he says, and looks from her to his friend. She does not look to the White Wolf: he already knows that this request must be denied.

"Without you," she tells Captain Rogers, with the slightest hint of inflection on the first word. "If he is truly free, we will return him to you. If not, I will not allow him to hurt anyone. I promise you this."

"But it worked," Shuri protests, plaintively. "I am sure of it, it did. You need not--"

"I have to. We all need to be sure," Bucky says, turning to her. "It's okay." He turns back to Steve and says it again. "It's okay."

Steve draws a sharp breath to argue and lets it out in an unhappy sigh as he searches Bucky's face. "You better not do anything stupid."

The corner of his mouth quirks up in the faintest of smiles, just for an instant, acknowledging the call and response. "How can I? But not this time."

He moves past Steve and Shuri to stand in front of Ayo, meeting her eyes. With a nod, he silently places himself in her hands.

She meets his gaze levelly, then nods to her princess before tapping the butt of her spear on the ground. The Dora behind her fan out as she turns and leads the way to the lift that will take them to the landing pad on top of the mountain.

She doesn't tell him to follow her. The time for talking is over.

Ayo says nothing. She doesn't need to. Bucky falls in behind her, and is aware of the Dora flanking him as he does. He doesn't look back.

Steve watches as they vanish into the lift as a group before turning to Shuri. "I guess we should get to the Citadel," he says, ruefully. "I'm betting your brother'll be the first one to get word when they're done."

"I am sure you are right," she agrees, "And king or not, I am going to scold him until his ears ring if I find out he knew and did not tell me!"

The trip to the flyer is a silent one. She is happy to see him well and alert, of course, but now is not the time or place for such observations. There will be plenty of time to celebrate and congratulate, after.

Both Dora accompany them in the flyer, but once they reach the landing place midway up the mountain they'd chosen, they follow only most of the way up the trail behind her and the White Wolf.

(This place is far from the Citadel, though not by flyer. The Dora have instruction to destroy the flyer rather than let the Winter Soldier take it if the worst should happen.)

The remainder of the pilgrimage she and the White Wolf make alone, still in silence. He is tense and worried, but she is as relaxed as ever. If the fix holds, she will celebrate. If it doesn't, she will be ready. Either way, her path forward is clear.

It's a beautiful night. The glow of the city's lights is visible in the distance as they climb the mountain trail, winding in and out of the trees. He can hear the song of nocturnal birds, the light sounds of wind rustling leaves overhead, and the distant thunder of a waterfall.

The rest of the Dora remain behind, and he's glad. No one else should see this. No one else should be near. Panic yammers at the back of his mind - what if, what if - and he does his best to ignore it. He's used to fear, both his own and that of others. Besides, they'll know soon enough. Ayo has a plan. He'd had one of his own; still does, even limited and bounded as it is by his promises.

("I won't run again."
"I know."

"I won't stop. Trying, I mean."
"You better not. And if you can't do it for yourself, do it for me."
"You, and Steve.")

He looks around as they reach the place Ayo has chosen. It's a clearing, one that's open to the edge of the drop, with a view out over the land beyond. They've come far enough around the mountainside that he can no longer see the city, and he finds himself glad of that.

There are far worse places for it all to end, if it -- if he -- if something goes wrong. If it all goes wrong.

She busies herself with building a fire in the middle of this small clearing, and lets him sit and rest. She does not ask his thoughts. In these moments, he should be allowed to keep them to himself.

(He looks weary, the White Wolf, even though he has only lately come from cryostasis. This weight has been too heavy on him for too long.)

The fire crackles, joining the soft sounds of the night around them. This place is peaceful. The night is calm. She is glad to offer him these things, but like everything in this world, it cannot last.

"It is time," she tells him. Her voice is quiet and kind – but firm. There is no point in waiting longer.

He sits on the ground and watches the sparks from the fire fly upward, bright specks against the night. Bucky thinks of how his memories felt when he was first trying to get them back; thinks of shattered glass and shards of metal.

"It is time," Ayo murmurs, soft but clear, from where she stands a little to the side. He doesn't turn to look at her. From the corner of his eye, he can see the butt of her spear set firm against the ground where she stands, braced and ready.

Good. She knows, but she doesn't know, and if--

"Are you sure about this?"

His voice is dull and flat. It's not really a question, but he has to ask anyway. She has to be sure.

She has to be ready. Just in case.

"I won't let you hurt anyone," she tells him, just as softly, just as clearly. It is less of a promise than a fact. Whatever happens, if the worst should happen...

The Winter Soldier will not hurt a soul.

Torches flare into the night around them, and he watches the fire, tension strung through every part of him. She takes a few quiet steps, pacing back and forth on the opposite side of the flames, watching him closely, and begins.

"Longing," she says. The Russian words fall gently from her lips.

"Rusted."

He knows how it happens. After all the study Shuri's put into it, he even knows why it happens the way it does. Each trigger word's linked to one or more memories, things that are rooted deep in his soul, so deep that to tear them out would be to tear him apart in the process. That's why they work. That's why he's never been able to resist them, no matter how hard or how many times he tried.

He hears the first word in Ayo's soft, clear tones, and waits in suspended agony for it to begin, bracing himself for the procedure to fail, for the wave to roll over him, starting the spiral that will drag him down into the darkness.

It doesn't happen. Not with the first word, nor the second.

"Seventeen," she says, and in that moment Bucky discovers that hope is far, far more painful and terrifying than fear.

"It's not going to work," he chokes out, and it's a desperate, disbelieving plea.

He is wrestling to keep his composure. Her own tension is rising, but her voice stays gentle, more coaxing than command.

She takes a breath and continues, inexorable. (All of this is for nothing if the words are not said correctly, in the correct order, within enough time.)

"Daybreak."

Each word is soft and precise, like tugging petals from a flower. He is struggling now, pain and fear and hope all warring with each other as he frowns, as he shakes, his gaze steady on the fire.

She continues. It is the kindest thing she can do. "Furnace."

Something new is happening.

Instead of feeling like he's drowning, sliding into unconsciousness, struggling against it, with each word jolting him another level into the dark, he sees a different sort of flash, filling where the void should be. Memories.

The Winter Soldier's memories.

The red book slamming shut in his handler's grasp. Trying to slam his way out of the glass-and-steel cell. Standing on a street he doesn't recognize, staring at a man he knows he should.

("Who the hell is Bucky?")

Masked, unmasked, weapons in hand, screaming in the chair.

Mission report: December 16, 1991.

("Nine," murmurs Ayo. "Benign.")

His breathing comes faster and faster as his face twists into a grimace.

He is a man with complete control over himself – unsurprising he cultivated that trait, considering how often he was used against his will – and now every iota of that control is going into keeping himself still, she thinks.

His gaze is on the fire, but she doubts he is seeing the flames. "Homecoming," she says. In her voice the words are not a fist dragging him into the darkness, but a kind, beckoning hand.

Tears have started in his eyes. The cords stand out in his neck. He's trembling. His features are flushed and twisted. "One," she says.

They are so close. She keeps a firm hand on her own worry, her own fears. Her voice is utterly calm as she places the final word into the air between them. "Freight car."

Edited 2021-05-18 23:06 (UTC)

He sees Steve lying on the deck with his hand at his throat, looking up at him. Your name is James Buchanan Barnes. You're my friend, he says, and Bucky feels something shatter within him in the here and now just as it had then.

The last word hits the air, and instead of falling into the darkness that the mountain pass had brought him to, he lands here in the present, in the warm night by the fire, still aware. Still himself.

Tears are streaking silently down his face. His shoulders shake as he fights to hold back the sobs.

She has not taken her eyes off him this whole time, and now she watches more closely than ever, waiting.

Which means she can see the precise moment realization hits him: That he is still himself. That the power those words held is gone forever. That he can never, never be used that way, ever again.

She takes a deep, cleansing breath of the cool mountain air, and her features relax into a smile, her eyes warm and pleased. "You are free," she tells him.

There can be no doubt. His face is wet with tears as he looks up towards her, as if pleading for it to be true, so she nods slightly, her voice a bare whisper as she says it again, this new truth for him to hold.

"You are free."

Free.

He stares up at her, then out past the fire into the night, eyes bright with emotion as he clenches his hand in front of his mouth, as if trying to hold her words to his own lips.

Free. Free. He can feel the smile break over his face as unutterable relief and joy wash through him, leaving him lightheaded and unsteady.

It's over. After all these years, it's over. He's no one's weapon to wield, not any longer. He's free.

Edited 2021-05-18 23:41 (UTC)

He gasps a sob and curls in on himself as she watches, but soon his smile shines through the tears as the fear and worry drop away like unlocked chains.

She takes another deep breath and sighs it out through her nose, well-pleased, and does not yet tap out a message on her Kimoyo beads.

She will inform King T'Challa once they have come back down the mountain. For now, this moment is his, and his alone.

He'd never allowed himself to look past this moment. Never even allowed himself to imagine it, knowing that if he did, and the test failed--

But it hasn't failed. His mind is his own again, and no one else's.

A soft, choked laugh escapes him, and he shakes his head, then lowers his hand and looks back up at Ayo.

"Thank you."

She nods again, this time in acknowledgment, and the faint smile that touches her lips is unmistakably fond. "You are welcome," she says, simply.

This was her duty – to Wakanda, to her king – but also an act of friendship. She is perhaps the only person who could give it to him, and so she offered it freely. Her smile grows, slightly.

"I am happy for you, White Wolf."

He grins at that, quick and bright, in a way that makes him look far younger than his years. Bucky scrubs his forearm over his face, wiping away his tears with his sleeve, then gets to his feet.

"Want me to get the torches or this fire?"

"The fire," Ayo tells him, and her own smile flashes, there and gone again, quick as lightning. "Do not singe yourself. You have better things to do tonight than to go back to the infirmary."

She busies herself with putting out the torches, dousing the flames with a metal cap like a large candle-snuffer, then waits until he has reduced the fire to a heap of loose dirt and ash.

This place has served its purpose. And he has somewhere else to be.

The air in the garden room is tense, though they all try to make it easier on each other. It helps when Nakia asks Shuri to tell them about her process: Sharon half-listens and lets her mind wander, trying to keep from worrying about the fact that they haven't heard anything yet.

Ayo had told her and T'Challa both how long she expected to be gone. If things went well went unspoken, and they're still well within the estimated time.

Still, after another twenty minutes or so, conversation has pretty much come to a standstill. Everyone is worried and waiting, and Shuri outright jumps when the gentle chime plays at T'Challa's wrist – but the mood in the room relaxes instantly at the sight of Ayo's smile. Her pleasure is clear, even in holographic miniature.

"The procedure was a success," she informs them. "The words no longer have any hold on him. We are returning to the Citadel now, my king."

"Very well," T'Challa tells her, calm though his relief is clear. "We will await your return."

Ayo nods and crosses her arms over her chest, then blinks the transmission out. Everyone is on their feet in an instant, and the happy chatter that erupts is only eclipsed by Steve going to Shuri and wrapping her in an embrace that lifts her clean off the floor. He hugs her there, her feet dangling some six inches off the ground, for long enough that Sharon has to pat his arm gently. "Okay, Rogers," she says. "Remember, princesses need to breathe, too."

He's a little sheepish as he sets her down, but Shuri is beaming brightly. "I understand," she tells him. "I am very fond of him, too."

Every one is this room is, which is why they've all been here waiting together, but Sharon tips her head to the door. "I'll be back for the party," she tells them. "Gotta go change."

"I'll walk you back," Steve tells her, like the gentleman he is, and she takes his arm gladly.

Only once they're in the hallway does she nudge her head against his shoulder and breathe out her relief. Steve puts his arm around her, but doesn't say anything. They're both full of the same feeling, she knows.

And for the first time in a long while, she's not worried about tomorrow. Not even a little.

Edited 2021-05-19 01:33 (UTC)

He settles into one of the passenger seats in the flyer feeling light as air, and watches quietly as Ayo calls T'Challa to let him know their status. His status. That he's no longer the Winter Soldier. Or is he?

He frowns a little at the thought and pushes it aside for now. There'll be time to figure that all out later. For now, he's still basking in the knowledge that he's no longer anyone else's pawn.

The trip back feels shorter than the one out had. When they land at the Citadel, Ayo turns to him. "I promised to return you," she says, and he could swear he catches a glint of mischief in her eyes.

"Like a package," he teases, as gravely as he can, and this time he's sure of the spark of mirth that she quickly suppresses. "I suppose," she says. "Come, then."

He nods farewell to the other Dora and follows her into the Citadel. He's not sure where she'd planned to take him, as Steve spots them just inside the door. Bucky's pretty sure he'd staked it out, but he doesn't have a chance to ask, as his best friend hugs him so hard he can almost feel his ribs creak before he turns to Ayo.

"Thank you," Steve tells her, and she gives him a grave nod. "You are welcome. Both of you."

As much as she wants to hurry up and get out to see him, if she's going to do this, she wants to do it right. The list of things she knows he likes is short. She's damned if she's going to mess up the only one fully under her control.

It almost feels like a normal night (like a real date) as she showers and shaves and begins the long and arduous and usually skipped-unless-it's-for-a-cover process of grooming herself to perfection. At least it gives her something to do as her mind whirls – Steve will fill him in on the mission, she's sure, and with that and the procedure both over, both successful, she feels entirely untethered in a way she hasn't for... god. Months, probably.

That trip to Polygyros seems like a lifetime ago.

She knows Steve will bring him over to the rest once he's had a chance to clean up and change, and even with her own admonitions to herself, she can't stop from hurrying.

As much as she can, anyway. She'd forgotten how damn long it takes to dry and brush and curl and style her hair.

It's worth it... but it takes forever

"We'll meet you there," Steve tells Ayo, who nods. "There?" Bucky asks. "Where's there?"

"You'll see," Steve tells him. He lifts a hand to Ayo, locks his other one around Bucky's arm, and practically drags him off down the hall toward his room. Bucky can't help but laugh as he lets himself be pulled along without resistance.

"Worried I'm going to turn tail and run?"

"Oh, probably not," Steve says. "But humor me." He glances over at Bucky as they reach his door. "I figured you'd want to get cleaned up."

He does, he realizes - not only is he still wearing the same clothes from cryo, his face is probably marked with tears and god knows what other signs of strain. Looking at the way Steve's looking at him, he figures he's right.

"Thanks," Bucky tells him, and Steve grins at him. "What are friends for?"

She's only worn a little bit of make-up since she got here – Irma wears more, but none of it is quite Sharon's style – and she takes her time with that, too.

It's a special night. They have a lot to celebrate, not least the relief of not having anything more stressful than a promised visit to Jabari lands hanging over their heads. For now, anyway, but for the first time since Shuri came down to the lake with her that morning last month, she feels like time is something they have.

She hasn't looked past today since Bucky went under. And she isn't yet now, either, but...

Tomorrow, maybe. And isn't that a nice thought?

Steve had thought ahead, he realizes, unsurprised, when he sees the change of clothes lying on the couch. Bucky collects them and vanishes into the shower long enough to thoroughly scrub himself from head to toe. He towels his hair as dry as he can before borrowing a comb to run through it, looks in the mirror, and calls it good enough.

Steve's engrossed in a book when Bucky comes back out, but he sets it aside immediately and looks up. "Feeling better?"

"Lots," Bucky tells him, surprising them both with the fierceness of the single word. Steve's glance softens. "I'll bet," he says, simply, and leaves it at that. They both know that Bucky'll talk about it more when he's prepared to, another time. "You ready to go?"

Bucky eyes him suspiciously. "Go where?" Steve just grins, slings an arm around his shoulders, and leads him down the hallways until they reach the garden room. Bucky has only a moment to realize that they've set up some kind of celebration before Shuri lets out a shriek and dashes across the room to hug him fiercely.

She's late, she realizes as she heads down the hall, heels clicking in a confident staccato. Not very late, hopefully. But it should be worth it.

This red dress isn't much like the one she'd had before, but it's still a knockout: a deep v-neck, tailored to fit her like a glove, and a radiant shade of cherry red that fire engines would be jealous of. She swept her hair to one side, and it bounces against her shoulder in a cascade of curls.

It might not be Aunt Peggy casually stunning an entire bar of soldiers into silence, but it's just about the best she's got.

As she gets closer, she hears Shuri's excited voice and T'Challa's deeper one over the light music that drifts from the garden room – Nat King Cole, Ella Fitzgerald: the classics – and when she enters, it's with a grin.

"Hey," she says, cheerful. "I heard there was a party going on."

They're all standing in a loosely scattered group, Shuri between him and T'Challa talking a mile a minute, Nakia saying something to Okoye and Steve having cornered Ayo for an earnest conversation that Bucky's pretty sure he doesn't want to hear, when he hears Sharon's voice and looks up.

An instant later, he's forgotten everything else.

Red, his brain informs him, stunned and scrambling for coherent thought. Pretty.

Only 'pretty' isn't enough. She's gorgeous, absolutely incredible, all long legs and a waterfall of golden hair and laughter in her bright eyes, and that red dress that clings to her like a silken second skin, and it's about at that point that he realizes he's stopped breathing and yet he still can't do anything but stare.

Somewhere she hears Nakia's piercing wolf-whistle, but she's only interested in one person's reaction. Everyone else just sort of... fades into the background as she walks up to him, eyes on his face, taking in his stunned expression with pure delight. "Hi."

He's staring like he's never seen her before. Her pulse is picking up in response, and she can't stop smiling.

It's a good night. The first in a long while. And she'd be a liar if she didn't say this was all just for him.

There are other people around, but she's frankly forgotten all about them for the moment. She reaches to loosely twine her fingers with his and says, amused,

"Breathe, baby."

It's not until she takes his hand and admonishes him to breathe that he realizes that the bright flashes in his eyes are due to lack of oxygen. Bucky gasps in a quick gulp of air, squeezes her hand, and gives her a brilliant grin.

"Hi. You look amazing."

This dress was worth every penny for this reaction alone. She grins at him. "What, this old thing? I just threw it on."

She squeezes his hand back, completely lost in watching the way he's watching her, in that sunrise grin and the warmth in his slate-blue eyes. It's a second before she remembers anyone else is even there, and only manages it because T'Challa coughs, a little pointedly.

"Sorry I'm late," she says, probably to T'Challa, but she's still looking at Bucky.

He's here. He's him. He's fine. He's better than he's been in a long, long time, and her heart feels like it might burst from everything that's filling it up.

He manages to tear his eyes from her at T'Challa's cough, but his hand tightens on hers even as he does.

"Um," he manages, trying to remember what they'd been talking about. T'Challa looks like he's fighting back a laugh, but it's Shuri who gets there first.

"Sharon! Look at you! And those shoes!" Her grin is bright and wicked.

The shoes are good, thin golden straps of leather, graceful heels, perfect for showing off her bright pedicure, the same cherry red as the dress itself. "Not very practical," Sharon admits, "but it's a special occasion."

She lifts her head to smile at Bucky again and doesn't let his hand go as she steps to his side and grins back at Shuri. "Not bad, right?"

"I have seen worse," Shuri says, and pointedly arches her eyebrows at her brother, who sighs.

Bucky looks at T'Challa and gives him a raised eyebrow. Is this what you mentioned before?

T'Challa nods, and tries to shift the topic, saying, "As I was saying, it was our honor and our pleasure to assist."

"Still," Bucky says. "There aren't words to say how much it means."

His hand tightens a little more on Sharon's, and he glances down at her, smiling a little.

"Sandals," Shuri stage-whispers to Sharon, whose shoulders shake with held laughter as she meets Bucky's glance. She can't stop smiling, and she doesn't want to try: today was a good day. They won. It's time to celebrate.

She laces her fingers securely in his. "No, there aren't."

The words don't exist, but T'Challa and Shuri understand anyway. Nakia, Okoye, Ayo – they all get it.

Even now, T'Challa shakes his head. "None are necessary," he says, lifting his hand to halt any argument, and Shuri grins brightly. "Besides," she says, "there is still so much to do! I have several designs for prosthetic arms for you to consider... but not tonight," she amends, at a glance from her brother.

"Whatever you want, whenever you want," he promises Shuri. He doesn't think there's likely to be anything she could ask of him, ever, that he'd say no to. Especially now.

Steve walks up to join them, smiling. "Sharon, you look nice," he says, and trades a remembering sort of look with Bucky.

"Thanks," she tells him, and spares a moment to be grateful that she doesn't have to compete with Aunt Peggy's memory every day. It's too much pressure for anyone.

Her hand is warm in Bucky's as she says, "And thanks for getting this one all cleaned up."

Edited 2021-05-19 23:14 (UTC)

"Least I could do," Steve says. "Although I guess I should have brought him some fancier clothes."

Nakia, Okoye, and Ayo join the loose grouping in time to hear this, and all three of them turn to look thoughtfully at Bucky, who eyes them back a little warily - especially Nakia.

"I don't even think you have fancier clothes," she says to Bucky. But it doesn't matter. She's by far the most dressed-up of all of them, and she had a very specific reason for it.

Okoye and Ayo give him a critical onceover. Somehow they always manage to look perfectly polished; it must be some secret Dora technique or other. "He will do," Okoye says, finally, before giving him an amused look as Ayo laughs.

Nakia comes to stand next to T'Challa, and the expression on her face as she looks at Bucky is nothing but warmth and pleasure. "Are you all going to stand around talking all night?" she teases. "Come, this man must be hungry. He has not eaten for almost a month."

He shrugs, just a little, and the corner of his mouth turns up in a wry smile. "Haven't needed anything but a uniform to be dressed up since 1943," he points out, and Steve grins at him. "I know the feeling."

They both look at Nakia at the same time when she gently scolds them, and Steve pats Bucky on the back.

"She's got a point."

"And we have much to choose from," Shuri says, beaming, and leads the way to the table with its large selection of dishes.

"We're a little short on that particular uniform," Sharon admits, although there's definitely a slightly far away look in her eyes for a moment.

(If it seems like she's remembering a few specific photos from 1943, it's because she is.)

"But the good news is, you don't need to dress up for anything."

What he does need is some food, and she's a little embarrassed at the fact that she has to wrestle with herself a bit before letting go of his hand so they can both fill plates. Neither of them are going anywhere, she doesn't have to be touching him at every second to remind herself of that fact.

Still, she sticks close to his side, and when he finds a seat, she pulls up the next one over.

Steve settles easily on Bucky's left with his own plate, as everyone else finds their own seats in the comfortable, casual grouping. He can't seem to stop smiling. Neither can Bucky, for that matter - from small, disbelieving smiles to the occasional bright, brilliant grin.

"So," he asks, "aside from the mission, what'd I miss?"

Shuri shakes her head. "I was busy," she says. Sharon avoids Nakia's glance and digs into her food instead; like everything else she's eaten here, it's excellent.

"I've been working the Chitauri tech end of Gray's supply chain," Steve says. "Apparently he folded so fast Ross didn't even get a chance to threaten him with anything."

Sharon isn't surprised: the man was only in it for the money. If he can turn evidence and get a clean slate, he will.

"Good," Bucky says. "Although disappointing for Ross, I bet." His voice is bone-dry.

"I have news from M'Baku," T'Challa puts in, and Okoye does an excellent job of keeping her expression blank. "He was very pleased to share that he has wrapped up those who thought they could conduct such operations on Jabari lands. I gather no one will dare try anything of the sort again."

"I'm sure he was pleased," Sharon murmurs to Nakia, who stifles a laugh. "Sounds like somebody had some fun."

She can believe M'Baku is more than enough of a deterrent to keep the bad guys at bay. "We have also successfully removed the rogue elements from the mines," Okoye says. Her tone is calm, but there's definitely something smug underlying it. "And apprehended the distributor Ms. Carter and Captain Rogers met with."

Sharon wasn't part of that operation, but she'd seen some of it go down. Her main takeaway is that she never, ever wants to be on the Dora's shit list.

"Good news all around then," Bucky says, and Steve puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes briefly.

"Better believe it."

It is. It was. She focuses on her food and makes a sound of agreement.

There was a lot to do and they not only did it, but did it well, thanks to the skills of the Dora and T'Challa's generosity... and Fury's intel.

(What they don't have, now that Kwan is dead, is a lead on this Power Broker in Madripoor. Fury's working on it, she knows, but she doesn't like it.)

"Also, Ndela got stuck climbing a tree," she tells him. "So I helped her get back down again."

That Ndela. Always getting into trouble. She's a doll after Sharon's own heart.

"You know, I would ask why she was climbing it in the first place, but I'm sure she had a good reason," he drawls. "Like to pick stars or something."

"Oh!" Shuri exclaims. "I like that idea." Okoye gives her a slightly wary look, T'Challa a curious one.

"Why? Do you want to pick stars?"

"Who wouldn't?" says Shuri, reasonably, and Sharon laughs.

"Sort of," she tells Bucky. "She wanted to climb high enough to see the ocean, apparently."

There are carafes of wine at the table; she pours herself a glass, her left hand going to his leg beneath the table. Not for anything funny, just...

She missed him. And she almost can't believe he's right here, solid and warm and real. So she lets her hand rest on his leg for a little while, just to make sure of it.

"Did she?" Nakia wants to know, and Sharon shrugs.

"I don't know. She got stuck halfway up."

Steve chuckles. "Brave kid."

"She really is," Bucky agrees. He shifts just a little, pressing his leg against Sharon's hand in lieu of squeezing her fingers, then settles again. "She's basically fearless."

"She takes after her grandmother in that way," Okoye agrees.

"Oh, Chichima didn't get stuck halfway up," Sharon explains, curving her hand over Bucky's leg beneath the table. "Ndela did. I'm pretty sure Chichima just tossed her up there."

Her smile is fond. She enjoys all the kids, but she finds Chichima especially fun. "She is fearless, though. And imaginative."

"Wait, Chichima didn't go up after her?" he asks, startled. "I figured you had to rescue them both."

"It was higher than she was supposed to go," Sharon explains. "And into the thin whippy branches at the top. She might be fearless, but she's a smart girl – she knows what's safe and what isn't."

"A very smart girl," Nakia agrees. Bucky nods, and eyes Sharon.

"So instead you climbed into the 'thin whippy branches'?"

"Better me than her," she points out, a grin threatening at the corner of her mouth.

"But I didn't have to climb all the way. I could shake Ndela up once I got high enough."

Beside him, Steve sighs, and Bucky shoots him an amused look.

"Don't tell me you wouldn't have done the same."

"I would not," Ayo observes. "I would have used the end of my spear to stir the branches."

Sharon points to Ayo and takes a sip of her wine. "A spear," she says. "If I had a spear, I could have done that."

"Couldn't you have tossed a rock or something to loosen it?" Nakia asks, and Sharon looks at her, aghast.

"Throw a rock at Ndela? Nakia, please. She has feelings."

T'Challa smiles at Nakia, as Ayo informs Sharon,

"You would make a better War Dog than one of the Dora."

"I believe it," she says, dry. She's always been more spy than soldier.

"I'm glad to hear there was a happy ending," says T'Challa, as Sharon turns back to her dinner.

"Like you said, Buck," says Steve, amused. "Good news all around."

He laughs and tips a glass to Steve before he goes back to eating. The camaraderie around the table is warm and relaxing, and Bucky finds himself doing just that.

Eventually, they're all settled in various chairs around the room, chatting comfortably.

She's still sticking close – and so is Steve, she notices. It's not so obvious, maybe, but he seems to always be close enough to put a hand on Bucky's shoulder or back or to jostle him as they laugh over some funny story or shared joke.

The wine and the company make it a little easier, at least. She can relax, doesn't have to be touching him all the time – but she still feels it thrumming in her blood: the need to make sure, to be certain.

It's fine. They have time, now. Real time, not just a week and a half.

(He's been under twice as long as they've been together, and that hardly seems fair.)

Still: she sticks close. And if the others notice, as they surely do, they turn an indulgent blind eye to it.

There's still a long way to go, he knows. Soon he'll talk with Shuri about her designs and her ideas to replace his arm; soon, he'll talk with T'Challa to learn if there's anything in particular he wants from the White Wolf, and with Steve - and Sharon, now - to figure out a few things depending on what the king and princess of Wakanda have to say.

But all that can wait until tomorrow. For now, for tonight, he feels like an impossible weight has been lifted from every part of him. He's light-hearted, nearly dizzy with it, and truly, simply, happy.

There's a tacit "no business talk" understanding tonight. They've been so focused on the mission and Bucky's procedure, and they all need a night off.

Well. Not off, exactly. Okoye and Ayo excuse themselves a little while after dinner: they both have duties to attend to and people of their own to see.

That leaves the rest of them in a loose circle of chairs, sipping wine or beer and laughing as T'Challa relates some of the more amusing anecdotes from his time thus far as king or as Steve tells them about Sam's ongoing mission to get Nat to pet Redwing.

It's nice. It's more than nice; it's just about perfect.

Shuri's the first one to start fading, which is only understandable, Bucky thinks, given how much stress she's been under for the past several weeks. Eventually, T'Challa leans over to give her shoulder a gentle shake. "Go to sleep," he tells her, fondness clear in look and tone.

"But--" she protests, looking around the room. Bucky nods at her too, and smiles. "We'll still be here tomorrow," he points out, and the quiet delight of being able to do so bubbles in him like champagne.

"But not here, here," Sharon teases, and Shuri rolls her eyes. "Fine," she says, lifting her hands in capitulation and getting up from her seat. "Then... I will see you tomorrow."

She looks at them in turn, but her last bright glance is for Bucky before she heads to the door, weary triumph in the straight line of her shoulders.

He watches her go, then turns back to find T'Challa watching him.

"She is pleased," T'Challa says, simply. Bucky nods. "She should be. She pulled off a miracle."

Beside him, Steve shifts a little in his seat, putting a hand on Bucky's back.

After another hour or so, Nakia's the next to call it a night, prompting T'Challa to stand up as she does. "Unfortunately," he says, "early morning Council meetings have not gone anywhere."

He wishes them all a good night, and Nakia hugs Sharon and then Bucky as well. "Congratulations," she tells him as she pulls away. She's smiling as she winks at Sharon, and then the two of them stroll out of the garden room together, talking quietly. Sharon hears Nakia's laugh as they turn into the hall, and then it's just the three of them, sitting here together, and she doesn't want it to end.

At his left side, Steve stirs, and Bucky realizes what he's about to do the second before the words come out of his mouth.

"Not yet," he says, and leans over to nudge him with his left shoulder, in lieu of slinging an arm around him. Steve's smile is small, but real.

"Okay. If you're sure."

He reaches for Sharon's hand and twines his fingers through it, even as he meets Steve's eyes. "I'm sure," he promises.

She smiles as Bucky stops Steve from leaving; she doesn't want to break this calm, warm evening up yet either. Quiet music plays in the background and there's still wine and beer to sip at, still desserts to nibble on.

And Bucky is free. That makes tonight the best night ever. "Besides, you can't go yet," she says, "because neither of you has challenged the other one to some kind of contest, and I'm pretty sure that's a necessary part of any Rogers-Barnes get-together."

Steve leans forward to look at her curiously. "Did you have something in mind?"

A quick breath of laughter escapes Bucky as he looks to Sharon, waiting to see how she'll answer that.

She lifts her right hand – her left is firmly laced with Bucky's – and shakes her head with a laugh.

"Me? No. Though I am curious who won your little footrace last time."

"We decided it was better to leave it a mystery," Steve tells her, and this time Bucky's laugh is full and bright.

She laughs and shakes her head at them. "That reminds me," she says, "I'm putting the Rocky movies on both your lists."

She shifts to sling both legs over the arm of her chair, her fingers still loosely twined with Bucky's, and looks at them both fondly. "I almost wish there were a place we could go out," she tells them. "Not that the Citadel isn't great. But I miss having a spot to go to for a drink... or dancing," she adds, with a quick grin at Bucky.

"There's probably somewhere ... maybe in the city," Steve says, with a pointed look at Bucky, who gives a miniscule shake of his head in turn. "If you tried to find it, that is."

"Maybe," he allows.

"Well," she says, squeezing Bucky's fingers in hers and smiling, "maybe if you get sick of losing at board games we can try to find one sometime."

She's in no rush. She might look ready for a night on the town, but honestly? She's just as happy sitting here with these two goofballs.

"I might have an idea of where to look," he admits. "But the way I recall it, I won the last game we played."

"That's what I remember," Steve confirms.

"Please," she teases, grinning, "I let you have that one."

Steve laughs and shakes his head. "You play dirty," he tells her, and she laughs.

"That's a vicious lie. I play clean as a whistle."

"I gotta side with Steve on this one," Bucky says, openly amused. "You cheat, baby."

"Hurtful," she says, but she's still grinning. "Slander. There's nothing in the rules that says you can't try to distract your opponent. I play smart, that's all."

Steve is looking openly skeptical, and she laughs at his expression. "You guys should have seen family game night at the Carters'. It was a bloodbath."

"I'm getting that impression," Bucky laughs, squeezing her hand.

She squeezes his hand back and swings her feet a little in midair, enjoying being off these heels.

They look nice, but they're murder to stand in for hours at a time.

Her smile is a little wistful as she thinks about her parents, about long quiet evenings at the dinner table playing gin or rummy or Clue. They're fine, she knows. Sad. Worried. But nobody's going to hurt them looking for her. They're safe from that, at least.

Both he and Steve can read that wistful expression plain as print. They trade a quick look, Bucky gives him a small nod, and it's Steve who makes the attempt.

"Probably not much more cutthroat than this guy and his little sister when they got going," he observes, lightly.

"Becky," Bucky clarifies.

Edited 2021-05-20 20:22 (UTC)

"Oh yeah?"

She glances from Steve to Bucky and back again, her smile brightening. "She sounded like a real firecracker. I bet she gave you both a run for your money."

"She sure did," Bucky agrees, and Steve chuckles. "Remember the time she dumped that pail of water over your head?"

Bucky grimaces.

"Boy, do I ever."

That gets another laugh out of her and she tugs at Bucky's hand, grinning.

"I'm sure you deserved it. What did you do?"

"Teased her," Bucky says, laconically, and Steve shakes his head at him.

"He told her she was too little to come with us to the movie one afternoon."

"I called her 'short stuff,'" Bucky remembers.

Steve grins. "Yeah, you did. You were also trying to set me up on another blind date, which is why you didn't want her along, as I recall." He looks at Sharon. "So Becky climbed up the fire escape with the pail, waited until he came out the front door, ready to go, and tried to drown him."

Sharon laughs so hard her stomach hurts at the mental image, and shakes her head. "What a little hellcat," she says, in an admiring tone. "Girl after my own heart."

She grins at Bucky. "I don't have any siblings, so I really couldn't say, but couldn't you have just told her you were trying to set him up? Sisters are people, right? They understand words."

"Yeah, but she would have told him," Bucky informs her.

"And rumbled all your big plans?" she laughs. Steve only shakes his head, looking faintly sheepish.

"You know the 'blind' in 'blind date' doesn't mean 'blindside your best friend by springing a girl on him', don't you?"

"It doesn't?" Bucky asks, deliberately wide-eyed. "So that's what I got wrong."

"Among other things," Steve says, desert-dry, and Sharon laughs again.

He nudges Steve with a foot instead of an elbow and shakes his head.

"Hey. I did my best," he argues.

"It wasn't you who got things wrong," Steve tells him, and slaps a hand on Bucky's shoulder. "I was the hopeless one."

"Oh, if we're doing 'hopelessly bad date' stories, I have many," Sharon tells them, amused. "Once a guy broke up with me on top of a mountain and then hiked back down without me. And no, I did not have a trail map."

"Wait, what?" Steve exclaims, shocked, as Bucky turns to stare at her.

"He did what?"

"What?"

She looks back and forth between them, and laughs. "If you don't like that, you're really not going to like hearing that he showed back up for Valentine's Day six months later because he didn't have a date for the night."

Bucky groans aloud, while Steve just shakes his head.

Sharon just laughs again. "I've got a million of them, but that is by far the best story, if only because it has a Part Two."

These things hurt at the time, but now they're just amusing anecdotes to look back on, and she's grinning as she tugs lightly at Bucky's hand. "So the bar is set pretty low," she informs him. "There's nowhere for you to go but up."

"I don't get it," Steve says, and Bucky nods to him. "Me either. It doesn't make any sense."

He shakes his head and squeezes Sharon's fingers. "I hereby give you permission to kick me off another mountain if I do anything like that."

Steve laughs. "I think you're safe, pal."

"Thanks, baby," she says, amused. "But maybe just skip the part where that would be necessary and then nobody has to get kicked off a mountain, okay?"

"Okay," he agrees, equally amused.

"That's a better plan, I agree," Steve puts in. "No more mountains. For anyone."

The look Bucky turns on his best friend is warm. "No more mountains," he promises.

"That works for me," she says, and squeezes Bucky's fingers before smiling at Steve.

Steve smiles back, brilliant joy evident in his clear, direct gaze. Bucky's back, he's here, and he's himself, free of the burden he's carried so long.

His glance drifts from Sharon to Bucky, who's watching him, and whose mouth curves in a small smile as their eyes meet.

Edited 2021-05-20 22:52 (UTC)

This is the best she's felt in a long time. Everything went perfectly. Nobody got hurt. No one is recovering or ill. Everybody happy and triumphant and just pleased to be together. Bucky and Steve finally, finally getting some of that time they'd so desperately missed.

And somehow she gets to be involved, which frankly boggles the mind if she thinks about it too hard, so she doesn't. She just rests her head on the back of her chair and keeps her fingers loosely twined with Bucky's, and lets herself watch the both of them, a tiny smile never far from her mouth.

A good night. A good night. A win they all needed, and the start of a whole new chapter for Bucky.

Quiet descends between them all for a moment, and in that moment, Bucky feels at peace.

True peace, for this second in time without the shadow of the Winter Soldier over him, at rest without another fight on the horizon, here in the company of two of the three people in this world who mean the most to him.

He feels his smile grow, wide and bright, as happiness threatens to overwhelm him, and he doesn't fight it.

Nobody really seems to care what they talk about, or if they talk at all, which is the best kind of company in her opinion. She could sit here and listen to them tell stories from their shared childhood all night long.

She wishes she'd had the chance to befriend Steve in DC, before everything went to hell. She wishes she'd countermanded her orders and just told him the damn truth... but they're friends now, and she wouldn't change it for anything.

Just like she wouldn't change this: Bucky's fingers twined with hers, the deep happiness shining in his eyes when he looks at them. She can't imagine the relief he must be feeling, can only be grateful for her own.

And for tonight. And tomorrow. And the tomorrows now possible afterwards.

Eventually, the comfortable, musing silences between stories get longer, as they cross the threshold between night and morning, and it's finally Steve who moves to stand.

"I'm calling it," he tells them, with a warm smile. "I'll see you both in the morning."

Bucky squeezes Sharon's hand and lets go as he gets to his feet, and as he does Steve pulls him into a hug. His arm goes around him in turn, and he hugs him back, tight.

"See you in the morning," Bucky murmurs. "We'll go from there."

Steve pulls back and smiles at him. "You bet we will." He lets go of Bucky and turns to Sharon with a warm smile. "Have a good night, okay?"

"You too, Steve," she tells him, and stretches up to kiss his cheek. "Good night."

He gives her a smile and a wave and makes his way to the door, whistling some old tune as he heads out into the hall, and then it's just the two of them left. The garden room is dimly lit by some warm flickering lights she can't quite see, and it almost feels like they're surrounded by fireflies. She turns to Bucky, simple happiness written clearly across her features before she steps in to put her arms around his neck, leaning back to look up into his face.

"Hey, good looking," she says, and grins. "Wanna get out of here?"

His arm goes around her waist as he smiles down at her.

"You bet. I'll follow you anywhere." His smile widens just a little, turning amused. "Want to go for that drink, and maybe a dance?"

"Sure," she says, smiling and falling easily into the banter. It's always been easy with him.

"Your place or mine?"

"Or somewhere else entirely," he says. "Lady's choice."

She laughs and shakes her head. "As fun as that sounds," she tells him, "it's pretty late to go out wandering around, looking for a place to go. And..."

Leaning in, she nudges her forehead against his. "I think I want to be selfish and keep you all to myself for the rest of the night."

Three weeks. Three weeks! How infatuated does she have to be when three weeks felt like a damn year?

She's still smiling, but her voice is soft. "I missed you."

"You have me," he murmurs, pulling her a little closer. "I'm all yours, baby."

"Good."

God, she had missed him. His warmth. The low rumble of his voice when he's murmuring low like this. His steadiness. His scent. His laugh. Just him. All of him.

And she hasn't gotten to kiss him in three long weeks, so she rectifies that here and now, pressing a long, sweet kiss to his mouth, her arms firming around his neck.

He kisses her back, drawing her against him, holding her tight. When the kiss breaks, he leans his forehead against hers.

"You nearly brought me to my knees when you walked in tonight," he tells her.

"Oh yeah?"

Getting all done up isn't her usual style, but tonight... well, it was a special occasion. And she doesn't get a lot of chances to pull out a really knockout red dress or heels or to spend God only knows how much time on her hair and make up.

But it was worth it all to see the look in his eyes. She gives him a satisfied smile. "You like this dress, huh?"

"It's a really, really nice dress. And you're a knockout in it."

He smiles. "Of course, you're gorgeous anyway, but you look amazing tonight."

"You know just what to say to a girl."

She leans forward to kiss him again, soft, before pulling away and looking at him with dark, mischievous eyes.

"Of course, I didn't get this dress just to keep it on all night."

His arm tightens abruptly around her, and he kisses her again, slow and deep and thorough.

His breath is warm against her lips as he murmurs, "Then we better get out of here, don't you think?"

"I think that's a very good idea."

She kisses him once more, then smiles against his lips. "Follow me."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[oom] i wake to sleep and take my waking slow

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