A/N: Okay, here's something I've never done before: a continuation of someone else's fic, because this is a ship that needs more attention. I'm doing it as a platonic friendship/brother-sister thing in the Ms. Foster series, and now I'm giving it a shot as a romantic pairing here.

This story is a continuation of one of Ozhawk's soulmate shorts (direct link to the short in question is below). I recommend you read that before you read this, as this story contains several references to the events of that fic. Also, you should totally read Ozhawk's soulmate shorts. They are hilarious and contain about a hundred crack ships you've probably never even thought of.

Also, this is probably going to be continued at some point in the future, but since it won't be anytime soon, I'm marking it as complete for now. Keep your eyes open for the possibility of more, though.

Original short by Ozhawk on AO3 here: works/4167942/chapters/10113860. Once again, please read that first.

Hope you enjoy!

There was a new routine around Avengers Tower, though most would find it hard to differentiate from the old one.

At the start of each new day, the tower's many residents and frequent visitors got out of bed or clocked in at the office, at or around the same time as they had the week before. Tony Stark still awoke in bed with Pepper Potts sprawled out over his chest and then proceeded to wake her up by getting out of bed without moving her. Steve Rogers still spent his mornings running ten laps around Central Park before heading to the diner for breakfast and a visit with his waitress friend. Clint Barton and Natasha Romanov still made intimate conversation over training sessions and mission briefings, and every afternoon, they called their third at home with the kids, letting her know how much they missed her and looked forward to having her in their arms again.

On the surface, it was business as usual for the Avengers, their friends, and the various personnel. The one big difference was something only a few bothered to stop and notice, but almost everyone had heard about in passing at least once.

For the past week, ever since one James Buchanan 'Bucky' Barnes was driven by his innate protective instincts to make sure a woman he'd never met before was taking care of herself, one could expect to hear them over the general noise of talking and training and science at least four or five times a day.

It started like this.

The door to Jane Foster's private lab would open. The motion itself was silent unless you were walking by to catch the distinctive whirring of the gate mechanism. Sometimes, heavy footsteps would accompany it, but again, one would be hard pressed to hear it over the swirl of activity around the tower.

What really got people's attention was the screaming.

"This is ridiculous, James! You can't just drag me away from my work every time you get a little peckish!"

"The hell I can't! I'm starving, and you know damn well this is just as much about you as it is about me."

"I already ate today!"

"You ate seven hours ago, and it was a peanut butter sandwich. You've barely gained back any of the weight you lost, and if you really think I'm going to let you go on week long science benders living off nothing but coffee fumes, you've got another thing coming."

"God, why are you always acting like this?"

"Acting like what?"

"Like you're my dad or something."

"I'm your soulmate, Jane. It's my job to protect you. Now, shut the hell up. We are going to get lunch and that's final."

"How are you even this hungry in the first place? You just ate a jumbo bucket of chicken wings an hour ago."

"What part of 'superhuman metabolism' do you not understand?"

On and on it would go as the voices made their way down the hall, into the elevator, through the lobby of the common floor and into the dining area. Whoever happened to be sitting down for a meal at the time was treated to the sight of the Winter Soldier carrying Dr. Jane Foster, either in his arms or over his shoulder depending on how difficult she was that day. He would march to the table at the far left corner next to the big window with the view of the Manhattan bay. This was their unofficially designated table. It provided ample privacy, whether they ate alone or Steve joined them. He was already there when they arrived with three plates of food in front of him.

"Trouble in paradise?" Steve asked, laughing when Bucky flipped him off and going back to his steak.

Releasing the squirming Jane, Bucky flopped into the seat next to hers. She sat with a huff and snatched up a menu, hiding her face behind it and mumbling to herself.

"Calling me an ass isn't going to change the fact that you need to eat, doll."

She dropped the menu, gaping at him with reddening cheeks. Bucky smirked.

"Enhanced senses," he said, motioning at his ears. "Another thing you keep forgetting."

"Yeah, just my luck I ended up with a super soldier for a soulmate."

"You seemed to like it just fine last night. And the night before that. And the night before that. And the day before that. And the-"

"Okay, fine, you've made your point."

"I love you, too."

He took her by the chin and pulled her into a kiss that, while chaste, had Steve coughing and looking away at a flock of pigeons that had taken up residence on the ledge. Though Jane was stiff at first, it wasn't long before she responded, kissing him back with fervor he had come to expect from his best girl. Most would be surprised to find what a vixen Jane Foster could be in the bedroom. At times, he would throw her on the bed (or other readily available surface), hold down her arms, and own her completely. Other times, she would come at him with fire blazing in those soft brown eyes. She'd walk him into the wall and she'd launch herself into his arms, her feet dangling a foot off the ground as she stuck her tongue down his throat. Bucky never knew just want to expect with Jane.

That didn't mean she couldn't be infuriating as hell when she wanted to be.

"You know, I was right in the middle of what could have been a major breakthrough," she said, looking passively down at her nails. "You may have potentially prevented mankind from taking its next big step towards expanding our knowledge of the greater universe all because you wanted a pizza."

"Actually, I think I'll go with the cheeseburger today," Bucky said, glancing over his own menu. "And quit whining already. You know what Bruce said. You need to get at least twenty five hundred calories a day to get your weight back up. Or do you want to start fainting all over the place again?"

"Well, if you promise to carry me," Jane said with a cheeky grin.

That was the kind of look that made Bucky want to drag her back to her apartment (more or less their apartment now that he spent most of his time there) and have his wicked way with her, but today, his better judgement and his stomach overruled his sex drive.

The waiter was coming their way, glancing around with hesitation like he was hoping someone else would come and do this for him. Bucky frowned. He'd been free from HYDRA for months now, and had helped save the world at least five times since, but people still got nervous around him. Not that he could really blame them.

"Oh, forget it. I'll just write it out here."

He felt the tablecloth shift and looked to see Jane whip a pen out of her pocket and start scribbling numbers into the cloth. Her speed was dizzying, and Bucky had to turn away before his head started to hurt. He'd barely made it through grade school math with a straight C average, and here his soulmate could fill an entire white board with equations in ten minutes flat. Her handwriting was tiny, too.

"Hello, good afternoon," the waiter said, nodding to the three of them in sequence. "If you already know what you want… er, I'm sorry, Dr. Foster, you can't write on the tablecloths."

Bucky eyed the man, adopting a cold look born from his time under HYDRA's thumb. Jane for her part was completely in the zone and unaware of the man trying to reprimand her, who now trembled in fear before her soulmate.

"But uh… we can always get another one. It's no trouble at all."

Bucky gave a dark smile and then politely requested all of Jane's favorite foods.

Exactly ten days after Jane and Bucky found each other, the door to Jane's apartment quite suddenly sprung open while she was lounging on the couch with a book.

"JAAAANE!"

Darcy Lewis tackled her, practically knocking them both to the floor as she hugged the life out of her old boss. Gasping for air, Jane's hands found the mass of Darcy's brown curls, and she patted her head awkwardly.

"It's good to see you, too, Darcy," she said. "I've missed you."

"Can't be missing me much these days," Darcy said. "Lucky bitch, I heard you found your soulmate! That's not fair. I still don't have a damn clue where mine is."

"Oh no?" Jane asked, genuinely curious. She recalled Bucky telling her about Steve's not-so-secret crush on her former intern. Did this mean they weren't a match after all? They must have spoken to each other by now.

"Hey, don't worry about me and my problems," Darcy said. "We're here to celebrate you and your good fortune. You're finally getting laid!"

She raised her hand for a high five that Jane didn't meet.

"Why do you say that like I was a virgin before?"

Darcy blinked. "You mean you weren't?"

Rolling her eyes, Jane slid off the couch, forcing Darcy to let go and sit upright. Jane went for the fridge, grabbing a bottle of lemonade for herself and a Pepsi for Darcy.

"You remembered!" Darcy said, taking the can. "Here I thought after all this time apart, you would have forgotten to stock up for me."

"Technically, it's for James," Jane said. "He likes Pepsi, too."

"James, huh?" Darcy said thoughtfully. "That wouldn't be Stark's friend, James, would it?"

"You mean Colonel Rhodes? No, it's not him."

"Yeah, didn't think so. He doesn't seem like your type." Darcy jumped back into the couch with her head resting on a throw pillow. She always knew how to make herself comfortable wherever she went. "He is kind of hot, though. Know if he's single?"

"Aren't you the one working with Stark now? You should know better than I do."

Darcy shrugged. Finishing her soda, she crushed the can and threw it across the room where it bounced off the edge of the garbage can and flew under an easy chair. She clicked her tongue.

"Damn, usually I can make that shot. Well, anyway, you still need to spill all the dirty details to me."

"About what?"

"About everything! Who is he? What's he like? Is he hot? Is he another superhero? Is he a good fu-"

"How about one question at a time?" Jane shouted over her, though on the inside, she was cracking up. This was one of the many things she had missed about Darcy: that brutally honest edge to every conversation they had. No matter how aggressive she could be, she always made Jane feel like she could tell her anything, and Jane would never have to fear a phony response or sugarcoating. "Let's start at the beginning: James is-"

The bedroom door opened. In the commotion of Darcy's unexpected arrival, Jane must have missed the sound of the water turning off. Now Bucky walked briskly into the living room, whistling a tune as he made for the fridge. He was still a little wet from his shower. His long hair glistened and stuck to his bare back and shoulders. Drops of water slid down the defined lines of his chest and stomach. They pooled at the top of the bath towel, his only source of modesty. It was wrapped snuggly around his hips, as low as possible while still leaving room for imagination.

Darcy's jaw hit the floor.

As Bucky rummaged through the fridge, bending so low that the towel began to slip, his whistle turned to a discontented hum.

"Hey, babe, didn't I have a drink getting cold in here or…"

He turned his head and saw Darcy first. She had yet to roll up her tongue or put her eyes back into her head. Whether it was how openly she stared at him or just her being there at all, Bucky faltered under her gaze. His metal hand went to the towel to keep it up while the flesh one rubbed the back of his neck.

"Oh… sorry. Didn't know we had company."

"She just came on her own," Jane said, feeling a little light headed herself as her soulmate moved around the living space, wet and tanned and nearly naked. She'd seen all of him already more times than she could count, but for as long as she lived, Jane didn't think she'd ever get over how glorious he was. It made her want to speak to God herself, to ask him how she ever got so lucky.

"I'll go get some pants on," Bucky said, walking backwards into the bedroom and shutting the door.

Jane found herself hoping he meant that literally, and would come back out with only his pants on.

"Jane," Darcy dragged her name out. "Was that your soulmate?"

"Well, if you can think of another reason why he'd be showering in my apartment."

Darcy got up off the couch and stood over her, looking more serious than Jane had ever seen her before.

"Okay, Jane, you know I'm your friend and I will always love you," she said, taking Jane's hand and patting it, "but right now, I totally 'effin hate you."

"I mean, my god, Jane, how did you ever manage to bag someone like that? He's the freaking Winter Soldier!"

"Yes, Darcy, I know," Jane said. She picked at what remained of her small salad, having eaten most of it fast before her mind started to wander. Not that hanging out with Darcy allowed for much by way of daydreaming.

"Christ, it's unreal. It's just unreal. You know, I read about him a long time ago on some wonky conspiracy website and I thought the whole thing was a bunch of BS. Who would have thought he'd turn out to be a real flesh and blood human and your soulmate?"

'Mostly flesh and blood,' Jane thought to herself. Heat pooled between her crossed legs as memories from last night returned to her, of all that he knew how to do with those cold metal fingers.

"Not only that, he's got the body of a freakin' Greek god and a face to match, and judging from the way you've been blushing ever since we started talking about this, he must be damn good in bed, too."

"Knock it off, Darcy."

"Hey, I'm not just making a joke here," Darcy said, stabbing a piece of lettuce with her fork. "I'm seriously wicked jealous. You've got your soulmate, and much as I tease you about your lack of experience, you've probably had more sex in the past week alone than I have in over a year."

"You mean you didn't sleep with Ian?" The question was strange on Jane's tongue. She'd never been one to poke her nose into other people's personal lives. "I could've sworn I heard you guys one night before we moved."

"That was just a porno I put on to try and get him in the mood," Darcy said. "Then he fell asleep halfway through it. That's why we broke up. He was sweet, but the poor guy was just too much of a virgin in the end."

Jane nodded. She remembered Darcy dumping Ian just a few days after that incident. All this time, she'd assumed Darcy just hadn't enjoyed their time together and wanted to resume the search for that one person the universe meant for her.

"So you really have no idea who your soulmate might be?"

"You try having a soulmark like this-" she raised the hem of her shirt up to her bra to let Jane read the two short words emblazoned in shorthand on her rib, "-and then tell me how easy it is to find the right guy. At least you had something specific to go on."

"He called me an idiot…"

"Yeah, and he was right. I swear, Jane, if I had known you'd start an impromptu hunger strike in the name of science the second I got transferred, I never would have taken the gig. I can't believe you were really doing that. You're lucky Tall, Dark, and Deadly has a protective streak a mile long when it comes to short, skinny people."

"Weren't we supposed to be talking about you?"

"I don't know, were we?"

"I just think you shouldn't give up hope." Jane eyed the side of Darcy's stomach that she had since re-covered with her shirt. "There are some clues to his identity in those words."

"Yeah, like what?"

"Well… he might be really old-fashioned if he's going to address you like that."

Darcy snorted. "Yeah, maybe it'll wind up being Steve Rogers or something."

Jane stopped short of sipping her soda and trying to find a discreet way to inject Steve into the conversation. Trust Darcy to be the efficient one and do it all on her own.

"Have you spoken to him yet?"

"Never even met him," Darcy said with a wave of her hand. "He's always off on missions whenever I have free time. Not like it would matter anyway. He's Captain America, for God's sake. You're the one who attracts the sexy super type, not me. Just look at Bucky and Thor."

"I never dated Thor, we're just friends."

"Oh please, don't look me in the eye and say you never noticed how Thor used to follow you around like a lost puppy dog. Sure, he never made a move, but I guarantee that if you said the word, he would have made you his queen in two seconds."

Much as Jane wanted to deny it and say that no, she'd never noticed such a thing from her good friend, the God of Thunder… he had looked awfully disappointed that time he kissed her hand and it didn't set her world on fire. She could've told him right away that it wouldn't work. She was born with her soulmark, and never once doubted that the man who spoke those words to her (rude as they were) would be her one and only. Now that she had him, she couldn't imagine sharing her bed, or indeed her life, with any other man. She had never known how fulfilling it could be to find one's soulmate. Now she looked forward to the day when people could address her as 'Mrs. Barnes'.

Compared to that, being Queen of Asgard just seemed paltry.

"It doesn't matter if Thor had a crush on me or not," Jane said. "I'm with James now, and I'm happy. I think you could be happy, too. You just can't give up hope."

Darcy shrugged. "At this point, I figure it'll come when it comes, if it comes at all. If not, I can always find a nice blank to settle down with or just become a crazy cat lady. My aunt Mildred was one of those, and she actually made it look pretty awesome."

Jane cracked a grin. Much as she was loathed to admit it (especially during what should have been a serious conversation), Darcy never failed to brighten the mood. And she was even funnier now that she wasn't in control of Jane's filing anymore.

"I still say your soulmark isn't as bad as you think it is." Jane grabbed the small pastry she'd bought for desert. According to the calorie counter Bruce gave her (she'd remembered to consult it for once), it would be just enough calorie intake until dinnertime. "I once knew a girl whose soulmark was 'Hi.'"

Darcy furrowed her brow. "Wait, you mean the word 'hi?'"

"Yes, the word 'hi.'"

"As in, 'Hi, nice to meet you,' or 'Hi, I'm your soulmate."

"That's right. Just 'Hi.' Nothing else."

A beat. Darcy's eyes widened.

"Oh my God, that must've been awful!"

"You don't know the half of it," Jane said. "It got to the point where any time someone said 'hi' to her, didn't matter who it was, she'd say the most bizarre thing that came to mind and hope for the best. She even became fluent in German just so she could spout off German phrases at people."

Darcy had just about doubled over laughing, a pretty extreme reaction in Jane's opinion. Was the story really that funny?

"So, did she ever find her man of few words?" Darcy asked once she'd calmed down.

"Last I heard, she was still looking, and I think she was starting on some basic Italian lessons, too."

Shaking her head, Darcy reached for the refilled soda their highly efficient waiter placed in front of her.

"Well, Jane, if your goal was to cheer me up, you certainly succeeded." She sat up straighter, leaning into Jane's space with prying eyes. "Now enough about me. I want to hear all about you and the Sexy Soldier. Don't leave out a single thing."

As Jane was busy trying not to let Darcy see her rolling her eyes, she almost missed the vibrating in her pocket. Pulling out her phone, she smiled at the picture of herself and Bucky on the call ID, the one Steve had taken three nights ago, when Bucky tricked her into turning her head so he could steal a kiss.

"Sorry, Darcy, I don't kiss and tell," Jane said, winking at her former intern. "And I have to take this."

She got up and walked out of the café, Darcy's angry voice following in her wake.

"Rude!"

Bucky dodged Steve's fist and swept at him with a low kick, only to miss his mark and have to do a full backflip to avoid Steve landing on top of him. He threw a punch that knocked Steve's face in, but barely slowed him down. In return, he took a hit to the stomach, stumbled once, and then rushed back into the fray, undaunted.

"Is that the best you've got?" He punctuated the question with a feint, tricking Steve into blocking a right hook that never came and getting him with a left to his unguarded side.

Steve was knocked off his feet, the metal fist leaving a dirty imprint in the center of his shirt. He wheezed for all of a second before his accelerated healing kicked in and he was back on his feet, no worse for the wear.

"I'm just getting started," he said, "but you do know this is just training, right?"

Bucky shrugged and eyed the stands, currently unoccupied save for one person surrounded by notebooks and a laptop. Every now and then, she would stop and write something down or check for some new update on whatever data she was calculating that day, but for the most part, she watched the friendly battle and cheered her soulmate on. Hearing her call his name drove him harder.

"Sorry, Stevie, can't pull punches today," he said. "I gotta look good for my girl, you know."

"Oh, all right," said Steve, re-taking his stance. "I'll try not to embarrass you too much."

The battle resumed with Steve aiming a kick at Bucky's neck and Bucky blocking his leg and using the momentum to hurl Steve into the far wall. Steve landed on his feet and caught Bucky's fist, holding on tight while he delivered a blow to Bucky's jaw. Bucky ripped his arm away and struck again at Steve's stomach. He spun around to stand behind his friend and get him in a chokehold.

"Give it up, punk," he said through grit teeth. "No shame in admitting defeat… by the way, Jane, did you eat the waffles I left for you this morning?"

Jane, who had stopped to type something and consult some of her notes, started. Bucky had gone from fully absorbed in the fight to addressing her like it was nothing.

"Oh…" she said, glancing around guiltily, "yeah, I ate them."

Bucky frowned. "You hesitated."

"No, I didn't."

"Jane, did you eat your breakfast, yes or no?"

"Yes, James, come on! I ate… almost all of it."

"How much is almost?"

"Shouldn't you be concentrating on Steve right now?"

"Don't change the subject, just answer the question."

"No, seriously, he's about to-"

Bucky didn't hear the rest. Steve's elbow, worked free from Bucky's metal arm while he was distracted, struck his nose with all the force in the super soldier's body. Bucky heard a crack and felt an explosion of pain before he blacked out. He awoke on his back, Jane and Steve kneeling over him. Concern mingled with humor as they helped him sit up. He saw the blood gushing from his nostrils, thankful that he'd worn a black shirt today. Though the pain had subsided, he still pressed the back of his hand to his nose to block the blood as he levied a glare at Steve. His oldest friend shrugged.

"Sorry, Buck, can't pull punches."

Bucky shook his head. "You're a damn punk."

"You're a jerk."

"You're a mess," said Jane as she matted Bucky's hair down and pressed a tissue to his nose. "Come on, I'd better take you to my room and clean you up."

Bucky brightened considerably as Jane led him out of the training room.

"I like the sound of that," he said in a low, husky voice. "I could use a good shower."

"We'll see," said Jane, though the shine in her eyes told him that was a distinct possibility. "Let's take care of that nose first. See you later, Steve."

"I'll kick your ass for real next time, punk."

Steve chuckled and grabbed a fresh towel out from the bin. "Yeah, you wish."

Their first real date took place two weeks after they met. It would have been sooner, except Jane wanted to review some new data over the weekend, and then Bucky had to assist on an important mission in Russia that took five days to complete and left him and Steve exhausted by the time they caught the quinjet home.

The latter incident had at least come with a few perks. The day he came home, Jane happily took time out of her busy science-ing schedule to lay in bed with him and massage the aches out of his shoulders. Her fingers were like magic, kneading away all the kinks and the tension. She had him laid out on his stomach, shirtless, completely under her spell.

"Damn, Jane, where did you learn this?" he had asked, groaning as she worked her way down to his sore back muscles.

"I took some nursing classes in college," she answered. "Thought it would make for a good back-up. My professor also worked as a massage therapist, and on the last day of the term, she taught us some stuff. Are you feeling better?"

He hummed, remaining immobile for a time until she lifted her hands off of him, and then he struck. Within seconds, she had gone from kneeling over him to on her back beneath him. Her squeal of delight, he silenced with a kiss, and for the rest of the day, he showed her just how better he was and how much he appreciated her efforts.

But a good relationship, even between two people fated to love each other, couldn't last on sex alone— even if it was amazing sex. They needed to find more common ground than just orgasms and one forcing the other to maintain a healthy diet.

That was how they ended up in Central Park, strolling through the zoo where the seals performed before a crowd of spectators. Flashes went off in all directions, leading Bucky to grab Jane's arm and quickly change directions to head towards the refreshment booth. Logically, there was nothing for him to be afraid of. He had worn a hoodie today, one a size too large and with a hood wide enough to hide his long hair. A pair of gloves kept anyone from suspecting that one of his arms might not be as fleshy as it should be. On top of all that, Jane was probably the most average looking person she had ever met in her life. Bucky could (and would) tell her that she was the prettiest girl around, but Jane had gotten lost in enough crowds over the years to know better. So long as nothing serious happened— no Nazis or terrorists or otherworldly monsters— they were invisible.

"Don't be so on edge, we're supposed to be having fun," she said. They had found an empty park bench where they could sit and enjoy their newly purchased pretzels.

"I am having fun," he said.

His eyes moved from one way to the next, and Jane knew that look. He was scouting for potential threats. He did the same thing at the party Stark threw for Pepper's birthday last week and scared off pretty much everyone who dared to walk within two feet of Jane. He really needed to deal with that paranoia somehow. Even so, when Jane took his hand in hers, his calloused skin gave her warmth and a sense that nothing could ever harm her. Bucky was good at that, making her feel like the most important person in the world.

"I don't think there are any bad guys here," she said.

"You can't let your guard down just because you think there isn't a threat."

"Well, you would know better than I do."

She let him wrap an arm around her waist and pull her into his lap. There were a couple of punkish looking guys standing around nearby with skateboards and rollerblades. None of them had looked their way yet, but experience told Jane that Bucky would not take kindly to some other guy watching her in anything less than a perfectly respectful way. Best to let them know she was taken before they got any ideas, he would say.

Normally, this kind of macho territorial behavior would get on Jane's last nerve. If Donald Blake had ever tried it, she would have teared him a new one and then dumped him right then and there. With Bucky, however, there was something nice about knowing that he cared so much for her. Even if it was silly and often unnecessary—just the fact that her soulmate was the Winter Soldier meant that all of the guys who used to leer at her in the street now stayed very far away—that overprotective streak of his somehow avoided the irritation anyone else would have inspired in Jane, and instead became… actually kind of hot.

That she got to rest her head on his very impressive chest and her hands on one of his equally impressive thighs also helped.

"You haven't finished your pretzel," Bucky rumbled after a few minutes of silence, during which those skater guys moved on without sparing them a glance.

Jane looked down at her pretzel, now cold with only two or three pieces at the ends nibbled off.

"I'm not that hungry," she said.

"Did you eat all your breakfast this morning? What about your lunch?"

"There you go doing the parent thing again," Jane giggled.

He scowled at her—he was still so damn scowl-y all the time.

"You know this isn't a joke," he said, and if possible, his arm around her got even tighter. "I was scared enough to find you unconscious before I knew you were mine. I hope you don't plan to put me through that again, Jane."

"Don't be silly, of course I ate breakfast," Jane said, and after a moment of deliberation, decided not to mention that said breakfast had been a piece of buttered toast and three sips of milk. Or that she might have maybe skipped lunch to run some new simulations she'd created. "I've always been able to work on small amounts of food."

"Just because you can do something like that doesn't mean you should."

He took the pretzel from her and broke off a piece. Crumbs fell from the edge onto Jane's pants, but before she could think of brushing them off, Bucky held the small piece of dough up to her mouth.

"Come on," he said, as if speaking to a small child. "Open up."

Jane looked at the pretzel, and then she looked at him. "Are you serious?"

"You're not giving me much of a choice here, doll."

He pushed the pretzel gently against her lips. Jane kept them closed, determined not to give in. He tried every which way he could to get her mouth open, and she thought maybe he'd give up and back down once he realized that she wasn't budging.

"Jane, if you don't eat this, I'm going to have to resort to drastic measures."

She knew exactly what he meant, and she wasn't falling for it. Not this time. Just because that particular tactic of his worked every other time he wanted something didn't mean it was going to work now, and it wouldn't. Nope, that wasn't happening. Bucky had overused it, and now Jane was immune to it. She let him turn her head back around just to prove it to him. There was no way in the seven layers of hell that she was falling for…

His clear blue eyes all wide and wobbling, piercing through her soul like one of the knives he carried into battle. Jane's heart sped up, worse when he took her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles. He came in real close with those eyes, those goddamn puppy eyes…

"Jane," he said softly. "Do it for me?"

A short time later, Jane chewed on the last bit of the pretzel, refusing to see him again as he pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck.

"I knew you'd see things my way, baby."

"I should make you sleep back at your place tonight."

"You sure could. Now, how about we go and see those seals?"

They left the park shortly after getting drenched by a horde of barking seals that seemed to have it out for Bucky (or so he came to believe after the third time they got splashed in a row). The only good thing about getting soaked to the bone was Jane's translucent white t-shirt clinging to her body, showing off curves that were gradually filling out as she continued her new diet. Bucky licked his lips. If they hadn't been in public and surrounded by small children and their parents, he didn't think he'd be able to control himself. That she stared at his body with the same kind of hunger just made it worse.

"You want to cut this short and head back?" he asked. He had his arm back around her. He had found that his favorite place for her to be was pressed up against him.

"Mmmm… maybe," she said with a coy look. "I could use some coffee first. Can we make a quick stop on the way?"

"As my lady commands."

She blushed. His 'ultra-chivalrous' side never failed to get to her.

Walking along the busy streets, blending in with tourists and business people and vagabonds stranger than they could ever hope to be, they found themselves lost in conversation about Bucky's time in the army. There were certain stories—the kind that kept him awake at night trembling—that he had yet to tell her about. He would when the time was right. He already trusted her enough to hold let her hold his metal hand when they walked and trace the lines of his scars with her lips when they were alone. For now, he stuck to embarrassing himself with all the old tales that Steve would tell about him with great relish. Amazing it was, all that Bucky would do to get a laugh out of her.

"So you guys really sneaked into a bar run by HYDRA dressed as showgirls?"

Bucky sucked on his cheek. He was beginning to regret getting into that particular story. He should've started with the one about Dugan nearly driving a tank off a cliff because he found a spider crawling between the gears.

"Technically, I was the only one in the showgirl costume," he admitted, red in the face. He really shouldn't have started telling this story. "The guys said I had the cutest face out of everyone."

"Well, you do have a very cute face," Jane said.

"Excuse me?" Bucky was quite suddenly in front of her, stopping her in the middle of a busy Manhattan street. Some people who hadn't expected it had to swerve to avoid a collision, and shot glares over their shoulders that neither of the pair cared to acknowledge. "I am not 'cute', thank you very much. I am dead sexy."

Smiling, Jane walked into the circle of his arms and pressed her chin into his chest.

"Personally, I think one can easily be both cute and sexy."

"Then I'll leave that to you. Now let's move, because there's a guy here who I think wants to start a fight."

Said guy was clearly a business man of some kind. He had been talking on his cell phone, oblivious to the world, when he slammed right into Bucky's prosthesis and dropped his briefcase. Its contents spilled onto the street, at the mercy of an uncaring crowd eager to get where they needed to go. By the time he had his important papers together, half of them had shoe marks on them, and the look he was giving Bucky would probably be very scary to someone who wasn't a legendary assassin.

Ignoring the man's shouts and curses, Bucky led Jane back into the throngs of people, where they crossed at the intersection and turned on to a familiar block. The massive A of Avengers Tower was in sight, the double doors leading to the main entrance barely a hundred feet away.

They didn't even need to go in to catch a familiar face. All they had to do was go to the local café for Jane's coffee and happen to walk past the outdoor seating where a golden haired man was reading the afternoon paper.

"You've gotta be bored here all by yourself, Stevie," Bucky said, leaning one hand on the table as the waitress arrived to refill Steve's cup. She smiled at Bucky and Jane before departing, and Bucky gestured after her as she moved on. "Maybe you could invite her to sit down sometime."

"Who, Beth?" Steve said with snort. "Nah, she's just a friend. And I like having time to myself. Helps me to think."

"Don't mind him, Steve, he's caught the love bug real bad and he thinks he's being helpful," said Jane.

"Yeah, don't I know it?"

"Still standing here, thanks," Bucky said loudly, and to his irritation, all he got was another laugh from Steve and a playful swat from Jane.

"By the way, why are you guys all wet?"

Bucky furrowed his brow, only to remember the reason him and Jane were turning in early. Though the high winds had mostly dried their skin and their hair, their clothes remained well and truly soaked. Another gust of wind hit, this one big and cold, so much so that even Bucky could feel it. He reached for Jane without a conscious thought, wrapping his larger body around her to protect her from freezing. He suspected that she would be out of commission for a few days with a cold if they didn't get back soon (assuming he could actually keep her in bed for longer than ten minutes).

'Oh well, at least I'd have a chance to nurse her back to health,' he thought.

"The seals at the zoo got a little too excited. James and I figured we'd head back and get into some clean clothes before we do anything else," Jane explained.

"Or we may just take these clothes off and stay in."

Jane nearly chocked on her own spit. Then she swatted Bucky again a lot harder. Not that he could feel it.

"You're terrible, you know that?"

"We'll see how you feel tonight."

"Maybe we will and maybe we won't," she teased right back. She never had a problem matching him tit for tat. "For now, I'm getting my coffee."

"And a scone," Bucky called after her.

"Those things are expensive."

"We'll share one. Just get it."

As she went into the café, Bucky took a moment to enjoy the view of her backside and then sat at Steve's table.

"I'm telling you, buddy, things have been so great since Jane and I got together. I never knew I could feel this way about another person before, but now…" he shook his head, unable to come up with the right words to describe all the things Jane made him feel. It was a good thing he'd never in his life wanted to be a writer. He would have been terrible at it.

"Is that why you're still carrying her to dinner over your shoulder?" Steve quipped.

"I didn't say it was perfect," Bucky said, "but we're working through it. Yesterday, I even got her to eat all of her breakfast and her dinner."

"Really?"

"And I only had to use one of the tricks Darcy showed me."

The trick in question was the one where he had to pretend that the toaster oven or the microwave was broken and that Jane had better come and take a look at it. It was a fact that Jane hated to be bothered when she was working, but equally true was that nobody was allowed to try and fix her appliances but her. The stuff she hadn't built herself from scratch, she had put at least a few hours into the maintenance of. She would drop everything, albeit reluctantly, and go up to her apartment to assess the damage.

Invariably, the thing would be in perfect working order. He just pressed the wrong button or something like that. While she was here, they'd better test it out just to be sure. So in they would put some frozen mini-pizzas or whatever else was lying around and then, of course, Jane would have to take a bite to make sure they were cooked all the way through; maybe even two bites. If they were really good, she should just eat the whole thing. What the hell, right?

"She's a damn genius, that girl," Bucky said, not failing to note how Steve looked ready to return to his paper at the mention of Darcy. Punk didn't seem to realize that Bucky had already seen the pink in his cheeks. "You'd know it if you talked to her."

"I'm sure I'll get the chance," Steve said non-committedly. "I almost did that one time."

"Yeah, and you chickened out."

Bucky remembered quite well that day one month ago, when a presidential convention took a turn for the crazy as the taser wielding political science student got into a heated debate with two potential candidates over the importance of the Avengers and other costumed superheroes to maintaining the peace, culminating in Darcy threatening to get her taser back from the security office so she could 'zap their asses straight back to Washington.' Steve and Bucky had been there to witness the whole thing, off to the side and out of sight as someone called for security to escort Ms. Lewis out of the building. She had strolled out the door with a swagger while Steve stared after her like a little boy watching his first crush.

Thirty something days later, and Steve was no closer to finding out if the sassy lady would be the one to speak the words stamped on his left pectoral, or if they were in any way compatible at all.

"Honestly? I don't know if now is the right time for me to be thinking about a relationship," Steve said, "and if it does turn out that she's my soulmate, I know I'm not going to be able to keep her away."

"No, that would be difficult considering you live in the same building," Bucky said, nodding in agreement. "Not to mention she's stubborn as a mule. She'd probably start camping out in front of your door until you let her in or she figures out a way to break the lock."

Steve gave him a look. It was the kind he used to let everyone know it was time to stop messing around and be serious, a look reserved primarily for mission briefings when Stark was too busy making jokes to pay attention. Bucky found that it wasn't quite so effective on an average day.

"You do realize there's no guarantee that she is your soulmate, or that if she isn't, the real one could come along any time. It could be that woman right there walking her dog, or that one dumping a drink on her boyfriend's head, or even that little old lady there doing the crossword puzzle. Though for your sake, I hope it's not that last one."

Steve glanced at the tiny, shriveled up granny in a powder blue cardigan who held a pencil between bony fingers.

"She's probably younger than both of us," he said.

"Yeah, don't remind me. My point is that if you're so determined not to get attached, then you have to pretty much never speak to a single woman again, just to be sure."

"You know not everyone has a soulmark."

"Still risky."

Leaning back, Bucky propped his feet up on the last, unused chair and watched Jane through the window. She appeared to be staring up at the menu trying to make her choice, and he hoped she wouldn't forget about that scone.

"What makes you so against finding your soulmate anyway?" he asked.

"I'm not against it," Steve said, not looking up from the Lifestyle section. "I just don't think now is the time."

"Is it about Peggy?"

At the mention of her name, Steve froze, and Bucky was momentarily sorry he'd brought it up. He had gone with Steve only once to visit her, during a time when her head was mostly clear and she was still aware that Steve wasn't dead. He'd been afraid to approach her, wondering if seeing him alive and virtually unchanged would be as shocking for her as it was each time she 'reunited' with Steve. Bucky had considered her a friend in the old days, if not a terribly close one. He still lamented that he never got the chance to stand as Steve's best man and make an embarrassing speech about the punk at their reception.

"Peggy is… no, it's not because of her," Steve said, looking all the way down at his feet. "I know I wanted to be with her once, when we were both blanks. Now… she moved on and lived her life. I'm glad that she was happy. I'm just not sure what made anyone up there think I should suddenly have a soulmate of all things."

"I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to question it," Bucky said, shrugging. "If it happens, it happens. I didn't have a mark back then either, and look at me now."

He placed a hand over his right hip. Jane's tiny, messy scrawl had been printed there for the past thirty years. As far as he knew, he'd been defrosted one day, and had it been there, completely out of the blue. How HYDRA had reacted and what they intended to have him do about it was one of the things he still didn't remember about his time in their clutches. If he had it his way, he never would.

"Look, the truth is, I don't know if I'll ever be able to have a relationship," Steve said. He had folded the paper and put it off to the side with his coffee mug. He had the serious face on again. "I shouldn't have to tell you how many enemies we have."

"Stark makes it work with his girl," Bucky said. "So do Barton and Romanov. They even have a third who's a civilian. And, of course, there's me and Jane. If we can do it, anyone can."

Steve was running out of excuses, and they both knew it. What Bucky really wanted to know was whatever happened to give the little punk such cold feet around women. While Steve was never exactly a ladies' man (even after they all started throwing themselves at him), he had at least been brave enough to talk to them, and he certainly hadn't been shy about his feelings for Peggy.

"Are you saying you never get scared?" Steve asked. "I don't mean to bring you down or anything, but if it were me, I'd be pretty nervous about what could happen if the wrong person found out about her."

"That's never going to happen," Bucky said, a bit more roughly than he intended. "Come on, Stevie, we live in a nigh-impenetrable tower filled with Avengers and former SHIELD agents. You and I are both capable of taking on entire armies by ourselves. I have an arm that can break through anything. If there's a way Jane could be safer, I'd love to hear it."

"I know all of that," Steve said, "but I can't help thinking that whoever my soulmate turns out to be, they'd be far better off staying away from me and my troubles."

"Well, that's because you've become a major buzzkill since the forties," Bucky said. His remark and the easy way he slid down in his seat masked unwelcome thoughts of waking up one morning to find Jane gone from their bed, missing from the lab, nowhere to be found. His metal hand clenched into a fist. "Trust me, Steve, there's nothing to worry about. Jane may be a bit reckless at times… boy, is she ever… but it doesn't matter, because there's nothing in this world or any other that I can't protect her from."

He checked the window, and she was coming out of the store with a bag in one hand and a tray with two cups in the other. It appeared she'd remembered to get whipped cream on his, or he hoped that she did. He'd forgotten to tell her. There was a man leaving the café right behind her, but it wasn't clear to Bucky that he was actually following her until they were outside and she whirled around.

"Look, I already told you, I have a boyfriend, and he's my soulmate, okay? Please quit bothering me."

"Sorry, hon, I'm just struck by your beauty. Bet if you gave me a chance, I could make you forget all about that so-called soulmate of yours."

"Yeah, I don't think so. He's right over there by the way, so I suggest you leave before you get hurt."

"How about you give me a kiss first? See how you like it."

They were a good twenty feet away surrounded by a noisy crowd and New York traffic, but those enhanced senses of his allowed him to hear the whole thing. Bucky pursed his lips.

"Observe," he said, getting up and walking briskly to the scene.

In the end, that man didn't get a kiss.

What he got was eternal bragging rights for taking a punch from the Winter Soldier and surviving.

In the dim orange light of the line of scented candles, Bucky reached for another strawberry. He had to fish around for it. He'd already taken so many from the bowl that was at one point full to bursting. He bit the end of the succulent fruit, letting the sweet juices roll around on his tongue, before placing the top half in Jane's waiting mouth. She chewed slowly and moaned in ecstasy, a sound that went straight to Bucky's groin. As if he wasn't hard enough already.

"So good," Jane said, as his fingers ran across the length of her naked chest and stomach. He knew all the right places to touch her to make her putty in his hands. "James… it's so good."

"There's more where that came from, baby."

He lowered his lips onto hers, his tongue meeting hers as the delicious taste of strawberry mingled between them. He thought he heard her moan his name again and it nearly drove him over the edge. She was the only one who ever called him by his real name, and he loved it. Loved the way it sounded when she screamed it at the height of her pleasure. He was going to hear it again, just as soon as he gave her what she needed.

He reached for another strawberry, fumbling a bit as the bowl appeared to have gone out of range. Furrowing his brow, he stretched further, pulling away from Jane in the process. Where was that thing? He hadn't knocked it over in the excitement, had he?

Bucky turned to look, mumbling an apology to Jane that she wouldn't hear. Nobody would hear it. As soon as he turned his head, the warmth of the candlelight disappeared and bright, unfeeling florescent light took their place.

There were machines everywhere, and men in lab coats standing in a line, watching him. Like the thing he was to them.

Bucky's mouth fell open, a cold fear twisting around his heart. He tried to move his arms, but the flesh one was tied down, and the metal one was offline. His breathing became erratic. There were more people in the room, people he recognized in the deepest, darkest part of his psyche where he tried to never venture.

"Don't worry, Asset," said the sickly warm voice of a man long dead. A man who sat in front of him now, smiling down at him like a puppetmaster. Bucky's body refused to obey him, though on the inside, he screamed and cursed and willed himself to move so he could grab that bastard who used him all those years and choke the life out of him. "Don't worry… we'll take good care of your pretty little soulmate. We've known for a long time what to do with her."

He heard the machines turn on, sounds that haunted him. He tried to scream but the mouth guard was suddenly in place. The cold was growing, seeping into his skin, clouding his thoughts.

"It's good to have you back, Asset."

'This can't be happening. It can't be. It can't…'

"Wipe him."

'NOOOOOOO!'

Bucky shot up in bed and unleashed a scream that felt like it had been building for ages. His throat burned afterwards. He clutched the sheets, soaked in sweat that pooled from his head and chest. He looked all around Jane's room, in Jane's apartment, full of Jane's assorted belongings. It was dark, the faintest hints of sunlight creeping over the horizon. Her bedside clock read six fifteen in the morning. For the longest time, he stared at it. It was twenty after by the time he felt calm enough to look away, but it felt more like a year had past.

'A dream,' he told himself, repeated it like a broken record. 'Just a dream. Nothing but a stupid dream. Stay calm. Everything is fine. They don't have you, and Jane is-'

Gone.

Her side of the bed, ruffled with creases in the shape of her body, was empty and cold. Only a trace of her scent lingered. A cursory glance at the closet and the wide open door would have told him that she had gotten up early as she was prone to doing and left to start her work without thinking to wake him.

Would have if Bucky even bothered to look at all, instead of bolting down the hall like all the forces of Hell were on his tail. He cared not that he'd left without shutting her door, or that he was barefoot and shirtless and people were diving into broom closets and corners to avoid him running them down.

He made it to Jane's lab in record time. The doors opened for him automatically (Stark's AI had learn its lesson after the first time), and the first thing he saw was Jane in front of her desk. She looked healthy and whole, if a little disheveled, and she was standing before a whiteboard half covered in some new equation. She was mumbling to herself, words he could have made out were his ears not ringing. At the sound of the door sliding shut, she jumped.

"James!" She sounded happy to see him; her smile was brighter than the sun. "I didn't expect you for at least another hour."

He stared at her, air coming to him in quick bursts. She was still talking, not really seeing him.

"I'm sorry for not waking you, but I've been stuck on something for a while now, and when I woke up, the answer just came to me right out of the blue, and I had to get down here fast to write it all down, so if you want to… James, are you all right?"

She had walked around the table to him, stopping halfway as she finally noticed his sweaty, half-dressed, distressed state of being. Her eyes swept over his form, lacking the eager lust that usually came with it. Instead there was concern, and maybe a little fear. It made his heart ache in his chest.

Without thinking, he closed the distance between them, gathering her in his arms as she tried and failed to question him, to find out what was going on. He hoped that the heat of his body would counteract the chill of his arm, but he still felt a shiver run through her. He didn't care. He couldn't let her go. Not now.

He held her as tightly as he could without hurting her. He always had to be careful with her. He was so much stronger than an average man, and even with her slow but sure weight gain, she was a damn tiny woman. She looked like she could be placed over someone's knee and snapped in half like a twig. Hadn't he said something like that to Steve on the very first day?

"Looks like a breath of wind could blow her away?"

Yes, it was true. It was painfully true. That was why he hadn't let go yet. He was on high alert, searching every nook and cranny of the spacious lab, poised to kill anyone who might be lurking around. It was a completely ridiculous thought that a HYDRA mook could even get into the tower without being seen, but rationality was not something he was capable of at the moment. Right now, everything was dangerous. Any one of the tools and instruments littering her work table could have been rigged with some kind of explosive device. There could be a HYDRA mole making note of where they were this time of day, so that it would be all the easier for them when they decided to take her.

"What's wrong with you?" Jane asked.

Her small fists were balled and she pushed at him, but his grip was iron. He watched with fascination as she tried to get away. From this angle, he could feel every inch of her body against his. She was soft, warm, and more alive than anything he had known in seventy years. His deep seated fears and the stress of the nightmare broke in an instant, and something new came to take their place; something hot and raw and undeniable.

Bucky lifted her into the air, his mouth coming down to crush her lips before she could make a sound. He kissed her hard, fast, and with enough passion that she would know he meant business. Had she been on her feet, he would have pressed himself against her and she would have felt just how badly he needed her. She returned his kiss, her hands flat against his chest, exploring hard muscles and traveling down to his abs. She moaned in his mouth, almost like she had in the dream— No, stop, don't think about that— and he answered with a growl as he walked them to the nearest wall and pushed her up against it.

What followed involved a lot of hair being pulled (mostly his), clothes being shredded (mostly hers), and little gasps and moans that rose over the hum of machinery (both of them equally). Some rational part of his mind thought he should at least take this over to the table, but that was quickly smothered under the force of pure need, telling him there was no time for that.

If Jane minded, she gave no indication. Quite the opposite, in fact. Her entire top half was naked at that point, goosebumps rising from the chill in the air. Bucky lowered his head to her chest, catching one pert nipple between his teeth and sucking. Jane's fingers dug into his skin as she writhed and bit back a scream. She told him once that she liked a little pain with her pleasure, but she'd never known anyone who she trusted enough to give it to her. That he would have that honor went without saying. If one couldn't trust their own soulmate, who could they trust? He felt honored that she gave him so much freedom. Even knowing the horrors he had committed, she still had faith that he would never hurt her.

He had moved on to her other breast when her hands went for the button of his pants. She worked it open and then fumbled for the zipper. Her efforts were hindered by his body blocking her view. She groaned in frustration, and Bucky let go of her just long enough to pull his pants down around his knees. He kicked them off near what remained of Jane's plaid shirt and started working on her pants. Thankfully, she hadn't taken the time to get dressed before coming down here. Her pajama bottoms were quick and easy to remove, as were her panties. One tear of the flimsy fabric and they were gone, and now there was nothing left to keep them apart.

It occurred to him one more time to take this somewhere else. Let them drop to the floor or carry her over to the office chair and continue there. Just as he thought he might listen, as the frenzy that had overtaken him started to clear, her hand found his hair again, running through the soft locks he had never gotten around to cutting. She mewled so sweetly, so full of need that matched, if not overshadowed, his own. As soon as he heard it, he was gone again, his base instincts taking control. They demanded that he not waste time. He was going to take her and he was going to do it now.

His hands wrapped around her buttocks to pull her up against the wall, high enough that his erection was situated between her legs. Sandwiched between the wall and his powerful body, Jane was completely under his control. He took one of her legs—God, her legs were perfect— and brought it up around his waist, while she obligingly lifted the other one. The action pulled them closer, and he could feel how slick she was already. He wouldn't keep her waiting any longer.

She gasped as she felt him push inside of her. He didn't need to worry about protection. Both of them were clean, and there was this wonderful new invention in the future called birth control. It was a good thing, too, because he didn't think he'd have been able to stop to put a condom on. He could barely keep up a steady pace. Every time he moved, it was fast and hard. On a better day, they would take their time building up the heat between them until they were both ready to go over the edge. He would always make sure she went first, and this would be no different. He was no longer capable of coherent thought as he pounded into her, but he heard her screams increase at least twice.

"Oh God. James- Oh!"

Whenever she said his name like that, it just made him want her more. His pace became even more erratic. Later on, he would be ashamed to admit that this had been more about him than had been about her. Every time he felt her tighten around him, it was a reminder that she was there. She was here with him, and she was his. All his. They didn't have her, and they never would.

"Fuck. Jane!"

However long it lasted, the point came where he could no longer take it. He made her scream for him one more time, and then he bared his teeth and let out a growl as he came. His head fell into the crock of her neck where he bit into her smooth skin, giving her one last shock of pleasure before his legs gave out and the two of them collapsed to the floor in a heap of sweaty, panting bodies.

Bucky held her long after it was over, when he had slipped out of her and had one arm thrown over her cooling body. She clutched at him. He was as always surprised to find how much strength his girl had when she needed it. There would be a lot of red nail marks on his back for the rest of the day.

Minutes passed in silence. Bucky had already caught his breath and shifted positions, sitting up with Jane in his lap. His chin rested on top of her head.

"'m sorry," he said under his breath.

He felt her start to shake, feared for a second that she was crying until he got a look at her face and saw pure exuberance.

"What was that?" she said. "You just gave me the most incredible sex of my life, and you're apologizing for it?"

Bucky blinked. He kept watching her, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It never did. Instead, she ran a hand along his unshaven face and then kissed every spot she had touched. He shuddered. Her soft lips drew heat that pooled at the pit of his stomach. He felt himself stir. That was one benefit of this whole super soldier thing: extremely short refractory periods.

Jane let out a hum, and Bucky realized that he had her in his lap and she could surely feel that.

"Don't be embarrassed," she said, drawing circles over the damp skin of his chest. "It's not the first time we've gone for another round."

"This is different," Bucky mumbled.

He closed his eyes and willed himself to think of the least sexy thing he had ever seen in his life. The best he could come up with while his mind was still rebooting was the time he accidentally walked in on his grandmother in her girdle, but it did the job. Now he just had to get Jane off of him and back into some clothes, and they could talk like adults as they should have been doing all along. He started to shift her weight off his legs-

-and then threw his head back and groaned as Jane made it clear that she had other ideas. She ground her backside into him, the soulmark on the small of her back brushing his for an instant. They hadn't talked about bonding yet, both agreeing that they wanted a more stable situation before thinking that far ahead. Technically, they still lived half a building apart and with their busy work schedules, it was a miracle they got time together like this at all.

If she kept that up, he was liable to forget all of that and just take her like a wild animal.

"Dammit, Jane," he grunted. "I just got it down."

It was with some difficultly that Jane managed to turn herself around to face him. She had some pieces of hair stuck to her forehead and her eyes were wide and inquisitive. They always broke through Bucky's carefully built up defenses without a shred of effort.

"What's wrong, James?" she asked him again. "That was amazing, but I feel like you didn't rush down here just for this."

"Yeah, you're right," Bucky said, heaving a long, deep sigh. "I didn't come here for this at all, it just… happened. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

He sounded like a scared little kid and he knew it, but if there was one thing that terrified him more than the thought of an enemy hurting Jane, it was himself hurting Jane. A fear she didn't seem to share as his question only made her giggle.

"Well, it might be a day or two before I can walk straight," she said, only for her face to fall as she caught sight of his expression. Then she leaned back, wrapping thin arms around his waist as his muscled ones snaked over hers. She rested over his heart, her breath on his skin cool and soothing. "You can tell me anything, you know."

He nodded. Yes, he did know.

"It's the stupidest thing," he said, his face half in her hair. "I was talking to Steve the other day, while you were in the café. He started telling me all about how… scared he would be to find his soulmate, because she could wind up in danger, and I… I guess it got to me more than I wanted to admit."

He paused, waiting to see if she would have anything to say. If she did, she wasn't letting it on.

"Then last night, I had this… this dream and… god, this is so stupid."

She shook her head. "I don't think so."

"But it is. It's ridiculous," he said, and now he was the one who was shaking. "I try so hard not to think about what they did to me, and now I have to wonder what would happen if they ever got me back… or found out about you… I never had a soulmark for the longest time, and then one day, I was taken off ice and there it was, clear as day. Like it had always been there. I don't remember what they were going to do about it, but I don't think they were ever able to match up the handwriting."

"And they never will," Jane said with finality. "Even if they did, they'd have a hell of a time getting to me. Between you and Thor and the rest of the Avengers, this is probably the safest place in the world for me."

"I know," he said, kissing the top of her head. "I didn't used to be worried about this, but now that it's in my head, I don't know how to get it out."

If he had to suffer another nightmare like that one, he was going to want to lock Jane up in her apartment and never let anyone in. That wasn't bound to do much more than piss her off, but he couldn't help it. He'd known an hour after they met that he couldn't live without her. That was just how it was for soulmates. It was how his parents had been, how Steve's parents had been, and according to Jane, how her parents had been. From now on, it was how they would be. There was no fighting it even if he wanted to.

"If it makes you feel better," she said softly, "I could rethink your offer to show me how to use a gun."

Bucky's lips quirked up. "Yeah, but then you'd want to return the favor by teaching me algebra or something."

"My field is in physics. That's what I would teach you."

"Jane, please, you're giving me a headache."

"You think it hurts now? Just wait until we get into the really advanced stuff."

He whined and went back to her neck, leaving behind another hickey directly parallel to the first one. Something about the little marks he left on her skin satisfied a primal side to him that he hadn't known he had. Jane sighed happily, pulling her body more fully into his so that she rubbed up against his arousal. What a cheeky little thing, she was. She wasn't going to get much science-ing done today.

"If they ever found out about you," he said, trailing kisses down her stomach to her core, "if they ever hurt you… it would be bad."

"Nothing is going to happen to me," she gasped as he nipped a sensitive spot in her inner thigh. "You don't have to be afraid."

"Thanks for the reassurance," he said, and as he moved up her legs from one to the other, he hid from her sight as his eyes darkened, "but I meant it would be bad for them."

They made it to Jane's room eventually, after a second romp in her office chair and a quick detour to the shower stall in her lab's private bathroom. It was late in the afternoon by the time he was well and truly spent. He'd need a few hours rest to get his strength back, and she'd probably need the whole night.

Indeed, as soon as they finished the final time, Jane's head dropped into his shoulder and she was snoring within seconds. That was fine by him. He didn't often get her in such a deep sleep as this, where he could just hold her and watch the peaceful rise and fall of her chest. He reckoned it would be morning before she woke up again, then maybe he could persuade her into a quickie before she got back to into 'work mode' and forgot that he and everything else not science related existed.

He ran a hand through her hair as she snuggled into him. He stared up at the ceiling, tired, but not quite ready to sleep, wondering not for the first time how he could've gotten so lucky after everything he had done (no, everything they made him do). He never understood what made soulmates so great back when he was a blank. Sure, his parents were happy. He never had to worry that his mother would throw his father out on his ass because he was making eyes at some girl selling cigarettes on the street. On the other hand, he had to make sure to stay far away from their bedroom when the door was closed. Otherwise, he risked being traumatized again like when he was seven. It seemed to him that soulmates weren't really worth all that trouble. Better to just date a lot of pretty girls and never settle down until he was old and it didn't matter anymore.

Now, he had Jane, and she was reckless, crazy, obsessed with her work, and her survival instincts were so low they made Steve look cautious. At the same time, she was passionate, beautiful, frighteningly intelligent, and the only woman he could ever want. It was overwhelming, how much had changed in such a short amount of time, but Bucky didn't question it.

He loved Jane Foster with all that he had, even when he carried her into the living room through the kitchen and caught a glimpse of the table, where the breakfast he had arranged to be delivered every morning sat untouched and cold.

Again.

This was the third day in a row.

Bucky found himself going back to the very first day, praying to the lord for strength and wondering how he'd ever gotten saddled with a soulmate who, somewhere down the line, apparently forgot how to eat. That early morning inspiration she'd had was probably something along the lines of 'If I sneak out of here while he's still asleep, I can get to my lab without having to deal with pesky things like keeping myself fed so I don't wither away and die.'

Good God, what was he going to do with her?

He had a sinking suspicion that she was finally catching on to all the tricks. She had put off checking the microwave when he came to her about it last night, and earlier, when he'd been about to suggest a trip to the local delicatessen, she had silenced him on the first word with her tongue around his half hard length.

What was he going to do when the only options he had left were carrying her to the common floor on his shoulder or literally holding her down and shoving food down her throat?

...unless there was something else he could do.

It wasn't uncommon, now that he was back to his old self, for Bucky to have sudden, vivid bursts of memory at completely random moments. It wasn't uncommon, but it wasn't typically helpful either—especially if it happened in the middle of a fight, and then that son of a bitch, Crossbones, got a hit on him while he was distracted. Every now and then, however, such instances would afford him a burst of inspiration, and as the scene played out in his mind, like a moving picture on a screen, Bucky knew this was going to be one of those times.

He went back to the year 1931. He was fourteen years old, a man in some ways and a child in so many others even as he convinced himself that he was all man.

He'd been an arrogant child, as he would now freely admit. It used to be that Steve was the only one keeping him grounded. Protecting him from harm and making sure he didn't get beat up after school (again) was how Bucky filled his 'good deed' quota each day, and the stupid kid never seemed to learn his lesson.

The day was like any other since the market crash two years back. He went to school; he made deliveries on his bike for pennies; he dragged Stevie out of another fight if necessary. Business as usual for the most part. The change came when his bike suddenly developed a flat as he was riding along the riverside. Losing control, he pitched over the edge, lucky to avoid the side of the dock as he plunged into freezing cold water. Somewhere in between coming up for air and a helpful sailor pulling him out of the water, one of his old, worn out shoes had fallen off of his foot and sunk down into the depths below. Its partner joined as Bucky, in a fit of rage, pulled the ratty thing off of his foot and threw it as hard as he could. He walked home that day soaking wet in just his socks, grousing on how long it had been since he had a new pair that actually fit him right.

Going home, his mother confronted him first. She appraised her eldest, shook her head at his filthy clothes and shoeless state, then sent him to his room for his father to deal with later.

And when he did, boy did he let Bucky have it.

That he hadn't screamed was the worst part; Bucky would've been lucky if that was all his father did.

He heard Bucky's angered complaints about not having good tires on his bike anymore, let alone shoes that tied properly without the laces snapping. It used to be he got a new pair every year, whether he needed them or not. Now that money was tight, he was lucky to be given enough to buy a gumball at the candy store.

His tirade came to a swift end as his father stood over him— the old man was so tall that he towered over his son until Bucky was well into his teenage years. He always knew how to use that to his advantage. He was an imposing man. He had fought in the Great War and came back without a scratch on him. Much as young Bucky felt like a man at the tender age of fourteen, when his father looked at him like that, he might as well have been that six year old who broke Great Aunt Margret's priceless vase.

"Well, James, I didn't realize that my boy was growing into such a prince."

Prince was what his father used to say when Bucky was being a brat. It was a signal to Bucky that he'd royally screwed up and now he was going to pay the price. At the time, he hadn't heard it since he was ten. He must have gotten soft in the interim. Thought himself immune to punishment.

He wasn't, of course. His father made that fact abundantly clear the next day, when Mr. Collins knocked on their door during breakfast. Mr. Collins was the local shoemaker, and Mr. Barnes' best friend from his old army days. He was a slight man, prematurely gray with great big calloused hands that seemed disproportionate to the rest of him. His face was well-worn, and he smiled often. He did even as Bucky was ordered to come to the door and stand at attention.

"Good news, son, you're gonna get a brand spankin' new pair of shoes," said Mr. Barnes in cheerful tones that increased Bucky's anxiety rather than easing it. And then his father dropped the bomb. "You'll get them right after you finish makin' them."

For the next week and a half, all of Bucky's free time (what little there was) was spent at Mr. Collins' shop, cutting and stitching together pieces of leather over rubbery soles. Any time he made a mistake, his work was thrown aside and he had to start again. It seemed an impossible task, one that had Bucky ready to scream with frustration at the end of each day, as he walked home in the floppy saddle shoes Mr. Collins had loaned him. His father was always waiting for him in the living room, newspaper folded under his arm, scrutinizing the boy without a hint of sympathy.

"Takes a lot of work to make 'em, doesn't it?" He would say. "Lots of time, lots of effort, lots of money. And if you do it wrong, that's money wasted. Not really in a place to waste money, are we, son?"

Though the day did come when Bucky walked home from Mr. Collins's store for the last time, in the shoes he made with his own aching and burning hands, it would be many years before he stopped hating his father for putting him through all that. He would be gearing up to go to war himself, finally understanding the value of all the things he once took for granted. Now that he was a man of twenty nine (or ninety eight if one got technical about it), he looked back with a fresh perspective, and knew that it was the best lesson his father ever taught him. It was a lesson he would gladly teach his own children one day.

If he had to teach his soulmate first, he thought while smiling down at Jane's sleeping form, then so be it.

It was noon the next day when they started up again.

"James, come on! I have a lot of work to do, and you can't just throw me over your shoulder like a caveman any time you want!"

"Really? Because it looks like that's exactly what I'm doing. Minus the caveman part."

"You wish! Just let me down. I can walk there myself."

"We tried that once, Jane. You can't be trusted. Now pipe down, and let's go eat."

"I'm not even hungry!"

"Too bad!"

Several people jumped out of the way as Bucky entered the dining room and deposited Jane at their usual table. It was just them today, as Steve was away on a business matter and Darcy was busy with Tony and Bruce. That was fine by him, he liked his alone time with Jane.

"I'll tell you what," he said a little later just because starting into his sandwich, "If you stay here right now and eat, I promise not to drag you down here against your will ever again."

He saw her brown eyes narrow, brimming with unexpressed suspicion and doubt. In response Bucky gave her the most innocent smile he could manage while clamping down hard on the need to laugh. He thought about giving her the eyes again—puppy dog eyes, she called them— but that might be overdoing it.

"You swear?"

He held up one hand. He couldn't believe how easy that was.

"I solemnly swear."

They enjoyed a light meal (light for him being very loosely defined) and some pleasant conversation. Jane heard some more stories about his time in the war, and in return, he learned all about Asgard and all the wonders the other realm had to offer. When the main course arrived, she ate everything on her plate and even seemed to stop and savor the taste. That was a first. Normally, Jane had a very practical mindset when it came to food. It was for staying alive and nothing else; something to partake in only when absolutely necessary. Things like flavor and texture were non-issues. Probably how she stayed so skinny all her life, even before the month long science binges.

He waited for her to finish and politely decline desert in favor of fresh coffee to ask her.

"So, Jane, do you think you could finish up a little early today?"

Jane blinked at him, and then frowned.

"Why?" she asked slowly.

"I have a surprise for you," Bucky said.

"And you can't give it to me some other day?"

"Nope!"

He escorted her upstairs to grab her coat and her wallet, and then they were on the street hailing a cab. They had an easy time of it. Yellow cars were always driving by Avengers Tower, hoping to get one of Earth's Mightiest Heroes in their car, because surely a superhero sworn to protect the people would be a very generous tipper.

One fifteen minute drive later they were standing in front of a white, stocky building smashed between two gray ones. It was smaller than its neighbors; a mere two stories where every other building on the street had at least twenty. Short and squat, it would stick out like a sore thumb for that reason alone, but it also happened to be much cleaner and more modern looking than the rest. The name was stamped on the window in flowery script that Jane couldn't make out through the glare of the sun. It appeared to be something French, which wasn't going to be much help to her. She'd taken Spanish in high school.

"Where are we?" she asked.

Instead of answering, Bucky stuck his nose up and took a long whiff of the air.

"You smell that?" He grinned wide, and somewhere in Jane's traitorous mind she couldn't help but notice how white and straight his teeth were, or that he had neglected to shave this morning and the stubble on his cheeks made her want to run her lips along his jawline.

'Snap out of it, Jane. This isn't the time for that. You're in public.'

She inhaled deeply the smell of cooking meat that wafted through the open door of the white building. It was pretty good, she had to admit. It smelled like the chicken dinners her mother used to cook every Friday night. Her stomach whined even though they had lunch just under an hour ago.

"You couldn't wait to take me out to a restaurant?"

"This isn't a restaurant," he said.

Jane furrowed her brow. "Then what is this?"

"You'll see."

He took her by the hand and led her up the stairs into the building. It was warm inside, and decorated in soft whites and purples. Watercolor paintings adorned the walls on all sides, and a large potted plant sat on a round end table in the far corner with flowers spilling out the top and dangling to the floor. Serene piano music filtered through speakers nailed to the ceiling. The whole setup created a very quaint atmosphere that seemed out of place in a hustle and bustle city like New York. This was the kind of place Jane expected to find in a tiny suburban town tucked away from the world, mostly frequented by little old grannies that drank tea and knitted sweaters.

It was a different story in the main room, which, despite what Bucky had said, was set up to look just like the waiting area of a very swanky restaurant. It was furnished with bright red couches positioned around a small coffee table. A stack of magazines was scattered in the center, along with a coffee cup someone had left behind on a coaster. Further in was a large kitchen area, where at least ten people stood around a long, rectangular tabletop. They all wore aprons and chatted amiably.

As soon as Jane saw them, she understood everything.

"Oh no," she said under her breath.

"Oh yes," Bucky said in her ear.

"You didn't."

"I did."

"Are you out of your mind?" She came very close to screaming, catching herself at the last second so it came out as a hiss instead. "You cannot seriously expect me to go in there."

"I sure do," Bucky answered cheerfully. "I'm going in with you, aren't I?"

"But this is ridiculous. I can't cook! I can't do anything more complicated than frozen waffles!"

"And my last experience as a chef involved reheating canned beans over a campfire while trying not to get shot. What's your point?"

"My point is that this is a terrible idea, James. I don't know what the hell you were thinking!"

He raised an eyebrow all the way up, and that was bad news for Jane. Whether he knew it or not (and he probably did) that was one of the sexiest faces he knew how to make. Her toes curled involuntarily.

"What I was thinking was that you need to learn to take care of yourself and that means eating three square meals a day like a normal person. You're a big girl, Jane; you can't rely on me or Darcy forever."

"So how is forcing me into a cooking class going to help?"

"Simple. You learn the same way I did. You don't really know the value of something until you have to make it yourself. I made a pair of shoes. We're going to make dinner tonight. That's how you learn."

"But I can't-"

"Wait, let me guess. You can't even boil water, right?" Bucky shook his head. That girl of his could be a real brick wall sometimes. "That's just a lousy excuse for lazy people who can't be bothered to try, so they just parrot that stupid line like it's so hard to put some water in a pot, stick it on a stove top, and turn a knob. Aren't you creating a portal to another dimension? If you can do that, you can do this."

"It's not another dimension, it's another world co-existing with ours- don't change the subject." At this point, they had raised their voices enough that the gathered crowd had fallen into a hush and twelve pairs of eyes now rested on them. "I've been making an effort to remember mealtimes, and Bruce said I'm back to my normal weight, didn't he?"

"Yes, and I was happy to hear it," said Bucky, "but Jane, do people on diets go back to eating junk food as soon as they reach their target weight?"

"Statistically speaking?"

"No. No, they don't. And neither will you. Now enough talking, we're holding up the class." He took her by the arm and pulled her along until she got the hint and started walking on her own. Her movements were sluggish, and so he beamed down at her. "Come on, baby, this is going to be fun, you'll see. A perfect soulmate bonding activity."

"We already have soulmate bonding activities," Jane grumbled.

"Yeah, but this one's different. You need to wear clothes for this one."

The last part he whispered, so close they were to the other students that they were bound to hear it otherwise. Jane still turned bright red and still gave him a poke in his side, right over the words etched into his skin in her handwriting. Maybe it was her imagination, but they felt warm to the touch, relaxing even. They felt right. Someday, she knew, she'd see them again when they took the next big step in their relationship. Until then, Jane accepted an apron from the class instructor and helped Bucky loop his own around his waist. She tied the knot behind him, standing on tip-toes to reach his ear.

"I guess I am a little hungry," she said, and she could feel him grinning.

"That's my girl."