One

"So, how was the big date?" Natasha asks as Steve walks in.

"I don't want to talk about it," Steve replies, and makes a beeline for his room, ready to throw himself back into some sort of distraction. He doesn't ever want to think about tonight again. However, Natasha is suddenly up and standing in front of him before he even gets halfway to his door.

"What the hell happened?" she asks, looking him right in the eye. She might only be an inch shorter than him, but her fierce demeanour more than makes up for that. This is someone who won't let him just walk away from a hard conversation. "I thought you liked Parker."

Steve frowns at the mention of his date's name. "I thought I did too," he says, and tries to make a move away, but Natasha just pulls him back to the couch.

"We're talking about this," she says decisively and sits him down. "Do you want a drink now or later?"

"Now," he says, and flops back into the couch. Maybe the alcohol will make this conversation easier.

Natasha nods and moves into the kitchen swiftly, pulling out a bottle of unopened Russian vodka from a cupboard. Steve's not exactly sure when she keeps buying it, but there always seems to be a bottle or two around.

"Double?" she asks.

"Might as well," he says, knowing she'll pour one for him anyway. Though, knowing Nat, it might as well be a triple with the way she pours drinks.

"Good," she says and pours out two glasses. "Before we start, tell me – do I need to find him?"

Steve shakes his head. "Don't worry about it," he replies. He doesn't doubt she could do it – Natasha Romanov is one of those people who just knows things. Steve doesn't question it – it might be magic, it might be something else, but whatever it is, Natasha is always startlingly resourceful.

As she walks over, Steve reflects on the date. This was by far not the first time he'd walked away disappointed. Most people tended to be pretty dismissive of him – they, for purely shallow reasons often pass up a short, skinny guy like him, but he'd really thought Parker was different.

Parker was one of the many regulars who'd shown up at Arrow Books, and they'd had a lot of great conversations about books. So Steve, at Natasha's prompting, had asked the guy out. But the moment the date began (with Parker rushing in a good fifteen minutes late), things started to fall apart. The conversations had been stilted at best, and anytime Steve had tried to salvage things, Parker had talked over him and dismissed him at every turn. It was such a strange shift from the conversations at the store that Steve almost couldn't figure out what happened.

This of course wasn't his first bad date, and he'd made it out of there as soon as he could, but Steve couldn't help but feel disappointed. Even before the date, he'd been wondering if he was cursed at all – surely it wasn't just a little bad luck, but all the tests he's done indicate this was just the way it was – no hexes or curses involved. It wasn't a very inspiring thought.

"So," Natasha begins as she slides over his drink (which was definitely a triple), "tell me about it."

Steve downs the vodka and told her the whole story, feeling more and more pathetic as he outlines the evening. He should've been able to see the signs – lateness should've been his first clue, but he'd foolishly held out hope.

I really need to stop hoping, he thinks sadly.

"Well, then fuck him," Natasha says bluntly and reaches for the bottle again, which she's brought with her.

"I didn't want to. That's the problem," Steve replies and holds out his glass for another drink. Natasha pours it out liberally. This one could probably qualify as at least four drinks.

"That sucks," Natasha says, her voice just a little too casual. "But have you ever thought about going to a Matchmaker?"

"A what?" he asks, nearly choking on his drink. Sure, he's heard of a lot of strange kinds of spell casters (this is New York after all), but never something like a Matchmaker. It sounds like a gimmick, and not at all the sort of thing Nat would normally recommend. He wonders if she might be fucking with him, but her expression is perfectly serious.

"A Matchmaker," Natasha repeats. "They're everywhere now."

Steve frowns. "How do you know they work?" he asks. Though magic is simply a fact of life, Steve's keenly aware of all the scammers out there (you didn't get to be a child with as many health issues as he had without encountering more than a few fakes that could develop a miracle cure-all before finding someone who actually knew their stuff).

Natasha raises an eyebrow at him. "Would I ever lead you astray, Rogers?"

Steve shakes his head. Despite her habit for practical jokes on occasion, Natasha never has been one to lie to him about things like this. He trusts her explicitly in matters like this – after all, it was her who all but saved his life when she found Erskine and his magical cures for Steve's many illnesses (at first, he was wary of the idea that anyone had enough power to help, but somehow she'd found it for him).

However, the problem isn't trust – the problem is that he doesn't know what he'd do if something like this doesn't work. The idea of a Matchmaker seems like something out of one of the many harlequin romance stories that sell like mad with the older women (and the odd man) who frequent the store.

"It can't hurt to try," Natasha says, sensing his hesitation.

"I don't know," he says and looks down at his now empty glass. Could something like this Matchmaker be the solution he's looking for?

"It's like being set up, but better," Natasha says. "They're not wrong."

Steve looks back up at her. There's not a trace of teasing on her face. Steve has a strange sense of déjà vu looking at her – it's almost exactly like when she recommended Erskine to him.

"Alright," he says with a sigh. "Let's do it."

/

The first thing Steve notices about the Matchmaker's office is the complete lack of romantic décor. He's expecting pink hearts and photos of happy couples on the wall, maybe even some sort of feel-good runes scribbled on the wall, but there's nothing like that. The office looks so ordinary that Steve almost feels like he's walked into the wrong place, but there's a sign on the desk – Matchmaker back in five – that confirms he's in the right space.

Steve sits down, well aware he's radiating nerves, but he can't help the anxiety. He'd been sure about the decision last night, but now he's not so sure. What if this is a mistake? Natasha had explained more about it last night, making out like everyone and their mother has visited a Matchmaker, but he hasn't ever heard about these people before.

"Hey, you're the 11 o'clock, right?" a voice called out and Steve turned to see a man standing in the doorway. He's tall with bright green eyes and dark hair, but he's not exactly conventionally attractive, however there's something about him that makes Steve want to pay attention. "I'm Carter – the Matchmaker."

"Uh, yeah, I'm Steve," he replies, suddenly feeling self-conscious about what Carter might think of him. He wonders if he's being judged for it – Steve's well aware of how he looks and what people assume about him, so maybe Carter thinks he's another desperate idiot walking in here expecting the world when he might not get something good. It's not like people are lining up to date him, so what chance does he even have?

"You know I can feel your nerves from all the way over here?" The Matchmaker says and Steve feels a flash of embarrassment. "No, don't worry about it. Just relax – I won't bite."

"Oh – yeah. Okay," Steve says.

"So, Steve, what are you looking for here?" Carter said as he sat down behind the desk.

"Don't you already know?"

Carter shakes his head. "Not exactly. I mean I could probably pick something up if I worked at it enough, but it helps to have in my head exactly what you want in your words. I could probably pick ten people out of a hat whom you'd be good with, but not all in the same way. I put all kinds of people into contact with each other, so it helps when I know what you want. So, is it something casual, or are you looking for something a little more serious?"

"Serious," Steve replies, feeling a little embarrassed for it, but he'd promised Natasha last night he'll be honest here ("Don't hold back, Steve – just say what you want and it'll be found," she'd told him). "I want someone I can date and fall in love with."

"I can work with that easy – I'm good with romance," Carter says with a smile. "Gender preference?"

"Not especially," Steve replies. "I'm bisexual."

"Polyamorous?"

"Not really."

"Alright then," Carter says and taps the table excitedly. "Let's start with a quick energy read, just so I can get to know you a little better before I work my magic."

He finishes it off with a wink, and Steve has to stop himself from blushing.

"So, how do we do that?" Steve asks.

"Contact," Carter replies. "No – don't worry, I just need to touch your palm – hold out your hand for me."

Steve complies. Carter's hand is oddly warm and comforting, like a hug after a long day's work.

"Sorry," Carter says. "That whole thing is a side effect of well, being a Matchmaker. I can't help it."

"It's fine," Steve replies.

"It'll just take a minute," Carter reassures him and closes his eyes. Steve watches on, slightly fascinated as Carter glows – he's taken on a slight pinkish hue. After a while, the colour fades and Carter opens his eyes. He smiles brightly.

"So…" Steve says awkwardly, removing his hand. It still feels warm and he rubs it absently. His palm tingles. "Was that good?"

"Oh, yeah, totally," Carter replies, eyes alight with excitement. "I think I might've found someone already."

Steve raises his eyebrows. "I thought you'd need to do another reading, or something."

"Oh, me too for sure, but something popped out at me during the reading, so I'm rolling with it. This is the best – like, I think I've found someone good for you."

Steve wonders for a moment if Carter might be conning him, but the excitement on his face seems genuine. "So, what happens now?"

"I'll just finish off the charm – I'm putting a quick rune on your arm – don't worry, it will fade over time. It's just so you'll know when you meet your Match. The thing will change colour to pink."

"You're not going to tell me their name?"

"I was getting to that – I just need to get this set now so it'll be extra strong. Don't worry – it's just a little indicator so you'll know you've got the right person. Hold out your arm again."

Steve obeys, and he watches as Carter traces a pattern on his forearm, light grey lines appearing on his arm. The pattern isn't like any rune he's seen before – the lines are curved and smooth, not like the rigidly geometric patterns he's used to.

"Ah, that's it," Carter says and removes his hand from Steve's arm. "So, names, you want?"

"It's optional?"

Carter shrugs. "Some people like a little mystery to this sort of thing – those people I give a little extra luck charm and they're off."

"Doesn't that seem a little too…risky?"

"Oh, no. The charms pretty much bring people together within a week," Carter replies.

"So, I could just do that, or?"

"Well, I could give you name and arrange a meeting, if you want. But there's no pressure."

"Maybe I'll just start with a name," Steve replies.

"Sure thing," Carter says and types something into his computer. "And…ah yeah, here he is. Time to meet your Match."

He turned the screen around.

Steve braced himself, praying it wasn't going to be the name of some terrible date he'd run away from before. Oh god what if it was –

"Bucky?" he blurts out, shock washing over him. He blinks a few times, just to be sure. But the name on the screen doesn't change. James Barnes, it reads.

Carter looks rightfully confused. "Who's Bucky?"

"Do you have a picture at all?" Steve asks a little desperately. Maybe it's not him. Maybe it's just some other guy with the same name. It could all be a coincidence, but a sinking feeling in his stomach is telling him this isn't an accident.

Carter shakes his head. "No, sorry – part of the policy here is that we hold off on pictures until the two of you meet. The rune's supposed to take care of that."

"Was he tall, maybe six foot and, uh, long brown hair? Sort of scowl-y?" Steve asks.

"Blue eyes too?" Carter asks.

Steve nods.

"Yeah, that's James. Do you know him or something?"

"We, uh, work together," Steve says, stomach sinking. He feels like he might be sick – this isn't happening. He's not matched with Bucky of all people.

"Oh, so you're friends already?" Carter asks.

"He's not my favourite person," Steve says weakly, which he knows is probably the understatement of the century. He hates Bucky Barnes – the guy is the epitome of an asshole and is perhaps the worst stacker Steve's ever met. When they'd first been introduced, Steve thought they might be able to get along. But that'd gone downhill fast and after that fateful first shift, he'd immediately asked to change his shift times just so he could avoid the guy. Sometimes they'd run into each other, but Steve has done his damnedest to avoid the guy.

"What?" Carter says, clearly caught off-guard by Steve's admission.

"I don't like him," Steve repeats. "Couldn't you tell?"

Carter shakes his head. "I'm not a psychic. I just read your energy, and the two of you matched like crazy. I don't often see that sort of compatibility."

"He hates me," Steve replies. "I hate him. We're not gonna fall in love."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Steve says.

Carter looks like he doesn't quite believe it.

"Can you get rid of this?" Steve asks and gestures to the rune on his arm. "I mean, is there someone else? I could wait."

Carter suddenly looked a little guilty. "Well, uh, nobody's really ever refused a Match before. So, I've never had to undo anything, and well, I can't?"

"What do you mean you can't?"

Carter sighs. "I mean, I'm never wrong in this business – and trust me, I've been at it quite a while."

"There's a first for everything."

"Yeah, well, I don't think I am here. And well, the spell has been cast, and messing with that is never a good idea."

"This is black magic?"

"Fuck no," he says, clearly offended. "I mean it's definitely not, but magic like this is pretty delicate. If I mess with that, then it might have some adverse side effects."

Steve is suddenly struck with a horrible thought. "Does he know already?"

Carter shakes his head. "It doesn't work like that. Most of the time, I read someone and then wait a little while before the right person comes in. These days' people wait maybe a week, if that. Then I call them up and let them know about the match."

"Did he ask for a name?"

"I was going to call him as soon as you left."

"Can you…. Not?" Steve asks. "I mean, if he knew it wouldn't make anything easier for either of us. And I can wait for someone else."

Carter sighs. "Look, I'm not gonna spout bullshit about soulmates or anything like that, but I think you should give this, uh, Bucky a chance. Maybe the two of you just started off on the wrong foot."

Steve shakes his head. "I wish it was that easy," he replies. "But we're not going to be getting along anytime soon. Please don't tell him – it'll just make everything worse."

"You do realise when you see him, he'll know anyway?"

"Well, if he doesn't know he's matched, then I can deal with it. This fades, right?"

"Yeah, totally. But it will take a while, and trust me when I say it's not a weak bond. I put a luck charm in there too, so you're definitely going to see each other soon."

"How long?"

"A few weeks, usually. But please, don't get any ideas about breaking it yourself. I wasn't kidding about the potential side effects."

"Then I can wait it out. Just don't tell him, please. It's really not going to do any good for either of us," Steve says as confidently as he can. He might not have a plan now, but with a little research, he'll work it out. Nat is sure to know something about this.

Carter sighs, clearly disappointed with Steve's reactions. "Fine, but you're paying extra for this. And don't think it's going to be easy – that good luck charm is pretty strong."

"I'll make it work," Steve said firmly.

/

Once she's stopped laughing, Natasha confirms Carter's warnings. "You break this, it's not going to be pretty. The whole thing could inverse, and who knows how long that'll last."

"Inverse?" Steve says.

"Or worse," she says with a shrug. "You never know what breaking something might do with these things."

"So it's possible?" Steve asks desperately. If there's even the smallest chance, he'll take it. He's been hoping that Natasha might have some secret answer to all of this, but those hopes are fading.

"The same way jumping off a skyscraper and surviving is," Natasha says bluntly. "And I'm not going to let you do that to yourself."

"Are you sure?"

Natasha nods. "I didn't think it'd work out like this," she says. "Honestly, I thought it'd be good for you."

"It's alright. Anyone else and I might've been happy," Steve says, the anger suddenly fading right out of him as the reality of the situation hits. Of course he'd get stuck with someone like Bucky, as opposed to someone decent. It isn't like there are people out there lining up to date him. Sometimes, he wishes the magic that fixed his illnesses had done more - maybe made him taller, more muscular and better looking.

"Could he really be that bad?" Natasha asks.

Steve rolls his eyes. "I've told you all the stories – besides, last week he fucked up my entire shelving of the science fiction section again. He's not following the system!"

"Maybe you need to rethink things?"

"It's a magical bookstore, Nat. He needs to learn that," Steve says, anger coming back in full force. They might not sell a whole lot of magical books, but the shop itself had character, as it's politely called. Shelves often rearranged themselves overnight, and it was up to the employees to adapt. Steve knows that better than anyone else in the store, and he's done his best to make sure every time people walk in that things can be found.

Bucky doesn't get that. More than once, he'd seen the guy trying to move the shelves himself. As if something like Arrow Books would let that happen. The place was sensitive, and Steve appreciated that. Bucky clearly didn't. If it were up to him, he'd fire Bucky, but Clint, the store's owner, doesn't seem to want to and Steve trusts Clint, even if he thinks it's a bad decision. Maybe there's some other reason for keeping the guy on, so Steve tries not to argue about it. Much.

"You'll be fine, Steve," Natasha says and then breaks out into laughter again. "Sorry – aha – oh you really got lucky, huh?"

"This isn't funny," Steve shoots back.

"It really is," Natasha replies. "I mean, it's like a movie."

"I'm doomed," Steve moans.

"Don't be so dramatic," Natasha says. "This might not be so terrible."

"For you, maybe" Steve mutters.

A/N: Yes. Another fic! But this is one is actually finished, so updates will be exceedingly regular - as in, every couple of days. I considered just throwing it into one chapter, but the way this site works I figured this was less messy bc it isn't a short fic.

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