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]

She huffs a laugh and runs her fingers, now feeling sadly bereft, through her hair, pushing it back behind her ear.

"Yeah," she agrees. "But it's not just that. I told you: I'm a mess, too."

[nerves_of_ice]

"You did," he agrees, clearly dubious, "but I don't know why."

[from_the_outside]

She smiles, slight and a little crooked, and lifts her martini. "I guess we'll figure it out as we go," she says.

"Isn't that what people usually do?"

[nerves_of_ice]

His tone is very wry when he tells her, "Haven't we been doing that all along?"

[from_the_outside]

"I have," she tells him, pert. "All the planning's been on your end."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Oh, well, in that case..."

He breaks off there, amused, and takes another sip of his drink.

[from_the_outside]

She grins and lifts her own drink. "So you still like dancing," she says. "And photography. Is there anything else from your old life you'd pick up again if you could? Or new hobbies that have caught your interest?"

He'd liked to box, she remembers. But that's probably not as fun anymore as it once was.

[nerves_of_ice]

"The photography's new," he tells her. "Not much else, at least not yet."

He hesitates, then adds, "I've had to ... relearn... a lot of things."

No point in hiding it. She needs to know.

[from_the_outside]

The hesitation in his voice catches her like a shirt snagging on a branch.

"Like?" she prompts, and hopes that it's gentle enough that he'll feel all right not elaborating if he doesn't want to.

[nerves_of_ice]

No one's close enough to hear them. He keeps his voice low anyway.

"How to be a person."

[from_the_outside]

She nods. How long has it been since he's been able to think of himself as a person, and not a weapon? There must be a million small things that confront him every day.

"I know that's got to be work only you can do," she murmurs, keeping her voice just as low. "But... is there anything I can do to help?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"Maybe. We'll see." He smiles, just a little. "But don't worry about it tonight, okay?"

[from_the_outside]

"Okay."

She sips at her martini and smiles back at him. "I don't think I could worry about much tonight."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Good." This time when he reaches to brush her hair back, he does so slowly and deliberately.

[from_the_outside]

She holds still – then carefully tips her head into the touch, keeping her gaze level on his as electricity sparkles through her.

[nerves_of_ice]

Does she know how easily she could bring him to his knees? He doubts it. Bucky's breath shudders a little as he meets her eyes, but he makes himself lower his hand after a second or two.

"Dance with me," he murmurs. "Fast, slow, as long as you'll allow."

[from_the_outside]

"That long?" she murmurs, wholly caught in his spell. "I'll wear out the soles of these shoes first."

She takes a quick, steadying breath and a deeper swallow of her drink, then reaches for the hand he'd just lowered. "Ready to get back out there?"

[nerves_of_ice]

He smiles at her, bemused at how easy it is to do, and takes her hand once more. "You bet."

The music's bright and cheerful and swift, a good match for the lindy hop, and he swings her back into it as soon as they reach the floor.

[from_the_outside]

Half a martini is enough to make her feel like she's floating all on its own; swinging back into the dance with Bucky makes her feel like flying. She shakes off the dreaminess of earlier and throws herself into the steps, spinning around and around the floor with him and laughing like a kid, breathless and delighted, as she does.

[nerves_of_ice]

He swings her out and back again with consummate ease, switching up footwork from rock-step to triple-step as the dance calls for it, pleased at how well-matched they are as dance partners, lost in her laughter and her smiles.

Bucky tugs on her hands, signaling an over-the-back flip if she's up for it, and raises his eyebrows in a teasing challenge.

[from_the_outside]

There's plenty of room – they're still the only ones dancing – and she's never been the type to pass up a challenge of any kind, especially not one that's got him looking mischievous and pleased.

She pushes herself towards him as he pulls her in and use the leverage of her arm and his to go up and over –

And lands like a cat, grinning and pleased with herself, breathless half from the flip and half from a shock of pain from the still-mending ribs she'd nearly forgotten about. One hand lets go of his to press against her side, instinctive, before she reaches back again. "Good one," she compliments, delighted.

[nerves_of_ice]

She presses her hand against her side, and the realization cuts through him like a knife. "Mostly healed, huh?" he asks, dryly, as he shifts into the next step sequence with her - a simpler one, deliberately so.

[from_the_outside]

"Well, they are," she protests. "Mostly."

So maybe it hasn't been the full six weeks the doctor recommended. He shifts them into an easier sequence and she makes a face at him. "They're not going to break again from one dance, you know."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Not if I have anything to say about it, they won't," he agrees, mildly, and spins her out and back again.

"I'm trusting you to tell me if you need to stop. But that doesn't mean I'm going to do something I know will hurt you."

[from_the_outside]

"It's worth it for the fun," she argues, but he's implacable and she may finally have come up against someone as stubborn as she is.

She sighs as she spins out, looking disgruntled as he pulls her back in. "Fine. But I definitely don't need to stop."