"Chapter One"
Everyone clinked their glasses together at the end of the toast. Phil was sitting between Clint and Pepper, and smiled across the table at the reasons for the celebration. It was one year to the day since Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes officially became Avengers.
Phil had been made liaison and handler for the Avengers after he recovered, and even accompanied some of them on undercover missions. On one such mission in Europe, Steve was nearly shot by a man in leather with a metal arm. Phil engaged him in a tussle, but his skill alone wouldn't have been enough to save him against the Winter Soldier's strength. He managed to rip off the man's mask, and froze in shock. If it wasn't for Steve's intervention, he would've ended up dead. As it was, Steve was nearly beaten as well, when he recognised the man as his long lost friend.
Barnes escaped, and Tony dug up all he could on the man, while Natasha provided as much information as she could remember. There was a press release and an appeal for his return. Nothing solid turned up until one winter's night, when someone landed on the balcony of Stark Tower, just outside the common area. Wings folded into a backpack, and the stranger carried Bucky to the window. The man was Sam Wilson, nicknamed The Falcon, and he'd found Bucky in a bad way.
The former Winter Soldier recovered, and Sam visited frequently. When the Avengers were called to assemble one day, while Thor was in Asgard, Sam and Bucky joined them in the fight against HYDRA. A couple of weeks later, there was another press conference, where Bucky and Sam were inducted into the superhero squad.
It had been a year since then, and Sam had successfully integrated himself into their lives. Bucky, on the other hand, still seemed like an outsider, even to Steve. He kept on the perimeter of their group, despite the others trying to bring him in on their activities.
So Phil made a decision. As soon as the party was over, he cornered Bucky.
"Will you come see me in my office tomorrow?" Phil asked.
"Uh… sure," Bucky said, averting his eyes. "If you want."
"Please."
"Okay."
Bucky had SHIELD clearance, although he steered clear of the agents as much as he could. He knew that they didn't trust him. Hell, more than a year on he still didn't trust himself. He'd apologised to Agent Coulson over and over again for nearly killing him, but he'd not only told Bucky to use his first name, he'd said that the key word was 'nearly', and that he had been as autonomous as a weapon at the time.
Regardless, he owed a lot to the agent, and was willing to do whatever he asked. Phil wanted to see him? Well, then Bucky would see him.
"Hello, Bucky," Phil said when Bucky poked his head in the door.
"Hi, Phil."
"Please sit down."
Bucky hesitated, then made for the chair in front of Phil's desk. "Okay."
"Not there," Phil said, holding up a hand. Bucky halted in place. "There." He pointed with a pen towards the sofa placed against the wall, between two filing cabinets.
"Why there?" Bucky asked, shuffling towards it nonetheless.
"When Barton started at SHIELD, he used to hang out in my office. Said I was the only SHIELD agent he trusted. Until he felt more comfortable, and people got used to him, he'd complete his reports here. We'd eat lunch together, I'd patch up minor injuries after missions. When Natasha started here, he insisted that she do the same. Sometimes it was both of them, sometimes just one." Bucky lowered himself onto the middle of the sofa, staring at Phil. "I suspect I'm a calming influence on new agents. They weren't the first, and they weren't the last." He stood up, and carried a StarkPad over to Bucky. "Games, books, movies, TV shows, music. I know you don't have any reports to do – thank you for actually filling out your paperwork – so just enjoy yourself."
"You think this'll work?" Bucky asked.
"Lie down, if you want." Phil sat behind his desk again. "I'm not bothered. It's nice to have the company."
Bucky lay back, although he kicked his boots off before resting his feet at one end of the sofa. He turned his head and sniffed the cushion he was resting against.
"Lavender?" he said.
"It's soothing. Yes, I spray the sofa with calming scents. As long as it helps people."
With a small smile, Bucky settled in to flick through the contents of the StarkPad, and Phil returned to work.
There was something so inherently young about Sergeant James Barnes. Phil had been watching him for months. The man was even more handsome in person, and there was a sparkle of charm that, if he exercised it, would be sure to knock anyone off their feet. He had been dealt a terrible lot in life, and sometimes it showed. But not when Bucky was smiling. And when he laughed, Phil almost dropped his pen. His heart pounded as the sniper threw his head back, chortling over whatever he was reading.
"Good?" Phil asked when Bucky was quiet again. Bucky's head jerked up.
"Yeah," he said. "Thanks."
Phil smiled politely. He wondered whether he could convince Bucky to keep visiting.
He didn't need any convincing, as it turned out. Bucky was happy to continue hanging out in Phil's office, even when he wasn't there. Phil knew he was surprised to receive that permission, and wished he'd thought of doing this sooner.
As the days and weeks went by, as they turned into months, Phil came to know some of Bucky's tastes. He drew the man out, bit by bit. They shared lunch most days, and the former Winter Soldier became Phil's new charge.
(Yes, he fell for him, hard, but that didn't mean a lot. Not to Phil, definitely not to anyone else, because no one would ever know.)
But he noticed that Bucky was lonely. Not when they were together, but when they were with the other Avengers. Or whenever the Avengers were on the news. It was agonising, seeing a young man, usually full of spirit, watching his team-mates with a wistfulness that made Phil's heart ache.
"You know that they care about you," Phil murmured to Bucky, who looked at him sharply.
"Them?" he asked.
"And you know that Steve loves you."
"Not in the way I need from someone," Bucky said. "Not the kind of love I'd get from a dame. I don't feel that way, but I… I want to feel that way about someone."
"You have the capacity for it," Phil said, stamping down the disappointment that Bucky only considered women. (Not that he ever had a chance in the first place.)
"Just not the choice." Bucky smiled sardonically. "Even if I got a crush on a girl, she wouldn't look at me twice. Not if she saw this," he indicated his prosthetic, "in the first look."
"Would you want someone that superficial?"
"No, but…"
"Unrequited love sucks?"
"Got it in one, Phil."
"More than you know," he muttered.
"What d'you mean?"
Of course. Super-hearing. "I know how it feels."
"Wanting to want someone?"
"Unrequited love. I know what it's like."
Bucky squeezed his shoulder. "You're a good man. Any woman would be lucky to have you."
"I don't… Thank you, Bucky. That means a lot."
He beamed at Phil. "I'll see you tomorrow, right?"
"Not tomorrow, but my office is still open to you."
"Oh. Well, I'll see you when you get back."
Phil nodded. "Absolutely."
He hid it as best he could while Bucky wandered off to talk to Steve and Sam, leaving Phil alone. As usual.
The conversation haunted him. Tossing and turning in bed like some goddamned cliché, he eventually threw the covers off and sat up.
"JARVIS, are you awake?"
"Of course, sir," the AI said, sounding amused. Phil grumbled to himself. "How can I help you?"
"Lights to twenty percent," Phil said. The room became dimly lit. "If I tell you something, can you promise never to tell anyone?"
"Yes. I can erase any evidence from my circuitry, except for a single encrypted file in my memory which can only be opened by you, sir."
"That. That's good."
"Very well, Agent Coulson. What is it you wish to tell me?"
"I'm…" Phil rubbed his tired eyes. "I'm in love. It's not returned – very much not returned – but I want him to know that someone cares for him. Want him to know that he's not alone."
"Indeed, sir?"
"I was thinking… an anonymous note. And maybe a present. I don't want my identity to be revealed; I just want to cheer him up."
"Is it Sergeant Barnes?"
Phil shot a glare at the ceiling. "Who else knows?"
"Merely an induction based on your comments, Agent Coulson, as well as a noticeable increase in attention towards him."
"D'you think anyone else knows?"
"I doubt it, sir. However, as requested, I will not tell anyone, nor will I confirm any suspicions they may ask me to verify."
"Thanks," Phil said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Could you help me work something out? Just be a sounding board? Maybe an eventual partner in crime?"
"I would be delighted."
"Thanks, JARVIS."
Two days later, Bucky received a package in the mail. A note fell out, and he picked it up.
"JARVIS, what's this?" he asked.
"It was scanned before being delivered to your floor," JARVIS replied.
"Good," Bucky said absently. He opened the note, and stared at it.
'You are as witty as Clint.'
He tore the wrapping off the present, and turned the DVD box in his hands. He stroked the surface, the first season of The Muppet Show. He'd seen a couple of the Christmas movies, but didn't even know that there'd been a TV series until recently. He'd been thinking about getting them, and now here was the first season in a set.
"Did you order this for me?" he said.
"No, Sergeant Barnes. It appears that you have a secret admirer."
"Strange note for a secret admirer," Bucky remarked. "It compares me to Clint."
"Favourably, I hope, sir."
"Depends on how witty you think Clint Barton is. Assuming it's that Clint."
"Who else would it be?"
"Yeah." Bucky frowned, and left the gift and missive on his coffee table. He decided not to mention it over breakfast with the others. They were too damn nosy for their own good.
I'm getting onto a Bucky/Phil kick, sorry to say. I keep coming up with these happy ideas which turn angsty, and terribly hard to return to the happiness. Oh dear.
Anyone actually interested in reading this? I have a love of secret admirer fics, but I know it's still an obscure pairing, despite my attempts to make it otherwise.
Anyway. Please review!