Leipzig AU: the choices we make

[nerves_of_ice]

It's a month after Thessaloniki when he slips the unmarked, unstamped postcard in the mail at Sharon Carter's apartment.

(It had taken him the entire month to decide to reach out. He'd spent most of the time burying himself in his self-imposed work and not allowing himself to think about anything other than the mission. Eventually, he'd realized that it wasn't working, and that there was only one way to find out what he now needs to know, even if he can't admit even to himself exactly why he does.)

Of course there's always the chance she'll think it's just an advertisement and ignore it. If she does, he'll try again with something a little more obvious before deciding she's not interested in reconnecting. Still, he thinks she's clever enough to catch it, and to decode the message, which isn't that subtle when it comes down to it: time, place, location.

It takes far less than a minute to pick the lock on the mailbox security panel - two seconds, maybe three, and he's able to pull it open, drop the card on top of her mail, and secure it once more.

Bucky makes his way from her apartment back down the Berlin street quickly and quietly, cap pulled down to hide his face, and disappears into the crowd.

Comments

[from_the_outside]

"They're still great," she promises.

"So I bet he still does."

[nerves_of_ice]

He nods and takes a sip of water, trying not to let the ache in his heart show on his face.

"I doubt there's a lot of good burgers in Berlin," he muses. "Maybe a few places, but probably not too many. Assuming you don't count fast food."

[from_the_outside]

There's a shadow in his eyes as he sips at his water, and she feels an answering pang in her own chest.

These two best friends shouldn't be kept apart. It's wrong on every level she can think of. "I haven't had a good burger since I left the States," she murmurs, and toys with another piece of pretzel as she watches him, something gentle and sympathetic in her dark eyes.

"Do you want me to tell you about New York?"

It's business, but she has a feeling they're going to be blurring the line between business and personal quite a bit, if this goes well.

[nerves_of_ice]

He struggles with for a few seconds before he settles on a nod.

"If you don't mind," he adds.

[from_the_outside]

"I don't mind."

She finishes her bite of pretzel and takes another sip of water, then sets her hands in her lap as she looks at him. "I spoke to Hill first," she reports, keeping her voice low so only he can hear. "She helped me meet with Steve. We got coffee and I gave him the intel and your note."

Sharon sighs, very slightly. "I guess it won't surprise you to hear he asked a lot of questions."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Of course he did." He knows that he's got to look as rueful as he sounds.

"I'm sorry to have put you in that position."

[from_the_outside]

She shakes her head. "It's fine. And I think he believes that I haven't seen you and don't know where you are."

She is, after all, pretty practiced at this point at lying to Steve Rogers. "But he's worried about you. And I'm sure it's only going to make him try harder to find you, note or no."

[nerves_of_ice]

Bucky sighs, long and slow. "Thanks for telling me." He meets her eyes.

"If you want, I'll explain. Why I ... haven't. But not tonight."

[from_the_outside]

That sigh aches like it was her own, and she reaches to curve her hand gently over his forearm without thinking about it, the same way she'd given into the impulse to hug him back in the flat in Thessaloniki.

"Another time," she murmurs. "The most important thing is he's good. He looked perfectly fine."

[nerves_of_ice]

"I'm glad." He curls his other hand over her fingers, just for a moment.

[from_the_outside]

"Me too."

When he lifts his hand away, she does too, trying not to think too hard about how nice it felt. She takes a slightly shaky breath and turns back to the topic at hand, taking refuge in the known quantity of her intel. "I haven't heard from Hill," she continues. "Or... Foxtrot. But I'm sure they're putting what we gave them to good use."

[nerves_of_ice]

"I'm sure." He studies her face carefully. "They didn't give you too hard a time about your source, did they?"

[from_the_outside]

"No," she promises. "They might down the line, but Hill knows I'll cut her off if she gets too nosy."

The pretzel and dumplings and cheese and water are doing their job; that warm flush from the wine is fading. Which is good, even though she misses it a little just now. Another few minutes and a new drink will be just right.

In the meantime, she should probably not just talk business, right? "So... what do you do with your time when you're not planning or chasing down leads?"

[nerves_of_ice]

He grimaces a little; he can't help it. "Mostly that's what I do," he admits. "Um. And try..."

He cuts himself off there, not wanting her to look at him with pity, but it leaves him desperately searching for another answer. "... shops," he comes up with, and immediately wants to smack himself upside his own head. "Markets. Exploring new places."

[from_the_outside]

For some reason, his struggle makes her feel better about her own, and she relaxes a little. "Hey, look who you're talking to."

She gestures at herself. "You think I have a life outside work?"

[nerves_of_ice]

Bucky blinks.

"Yes?" That little smile plays around the corners of his mouth again. "Although you do have a pretty regular routine, come to think of it."

[from_the_outside]

"Oh, come on." She's grinning as she pushes lightly at his shoulder.

"Yeah, okay, I do have a regular routine, in the city where I live and work and have a day to day and where the odds of someone tracking my movements are extremely low. But I changed up my coffee shop."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Do you really think that makes a difference?" he wonders aloud, as he puts together a piece of bread with some cheese and a drizzle of honey. Bucky sets it in front of her and starts assembling a second one for himself.

"On second thought, never mind, pretend I didn't say anything."

[from_the_outside]

"Rude," she says, as she picks up the snack and bites into it. "But since you're the only person likely to be paying attention, I guess not."

She's not on the run. "Besides, it would be a lot more suspicious if I acted like I thought I needed to cover my tracks."

[nerves_of_ice]

"I guess." He sounds as dubious as he feels, but she's not wrong. And - at least until now - she doesn't need to be looking over her shoulder all the time.

Silently, he promises himself that he'll vanish before he does anything that could lead her to get hurt by association... but not yet.

"How long is your Berlin posting?"

[from_the_outside]

"It's a three-year contract with the option for annual renewal once the original concludes."

She finishes her bite and licks honey off her fingertips, then reaches for her glass of water again. "Not sure where the next rotation might be if I don't renew it. Back to the States, maybe."

But she's pretty damn sure Ross will want her to stay, and that the offer will be plenty generous enough to make her consider it.

[nerves_of_ice]

His attention is captured by the sight of her tongue against her fingers, and Bucky abruptly reaches for his own waterglass and then takes a quick look around the room, since he hasn't in a bit, while he gets his thoughts under control.

"Do you like it? In Berlin?"

[from_the_outside]

"Yeah," she says, a little surprised at his abrupt reaction, the way he doesn't seem to want to look at her. Is it something she said?

Her fingers stick very slightly to the waterglass when she puts it back down, and, thoughtlessly, she puts the pad of her middle finger in her mouth to suck off the rest of the honey. "I mean, a lack of cheeseburgers aside. And it's been a long time since I've been stationed somewhere for long enough to really enjoy a place."

[nerves_of_ice]

He glances back just in time to see her fingertip disappear into her mouth, and can feel the breath stop in his throat.

His tone is a little hoarse as he manages, "Where else have you been stationed? Before?"

[from_the_outside]

...Oh, what?

Maybe she's been a little slow on the uptake, but even she can figure out what it means when his glance drops to her finger in her mouth and his voice does that thing that makes her stomach twist so pleasantly – and do his eyes look a little darker?

She smiles, teasing, her fingertip caught between her teeth, then demurely removes it and wipes her hand on her napkin. "I'm afraid that's classified," she says, prim, even as her lips twitch and call her a liar.