I'll be Seeing you:
Chapter one:
Dusk was falling very slowly in the small fishing village of Portofino. She smiled at the sweet grey terrier wagging its bun of a tail and began to converse with the wrinkled and weathered produce stand owner. Italian was a language she had been familiar with growing up in New York and working in Brooklyn for many years. It became much easier to grasp once immersed in the romance of it all.
She picked the firmest tomatoes, greenest spinach and freshest herbs the kind old Italian woman had and paid the small sum with a smile. After placing the items in a woven bag she patted the dog known as 'Tucci' and carried on with her errands. There was always that feeling in the pit of her stomach. The sensation of being watched but it wasn't anything new, in fact she had come to expect it. Her former self would have been riddled with anxiety at the thought of being tracked but completely unaware of it to even begin with. The past several years had given her experience enough to be conscious of her surroundings, to trust few and guard herself to the best of her ability. The sweetness that was still remains it was now just a cocktail of painful memories and a toughness only misfortune can grant oneself.
'There are always people worse off than you.' The firm belief of her grandmother Mae always sat in the back of her mind along with other advice for when she needed it most. All that was left now were the scars and memories of how simple life used to be but that was why she was living in this quaint village. She aimed to capture that uncomplicated feeling once more but she was wise enough to know, things would always be complex.
After exiting a family run deli she caught the scent of freshly baked bread from the bakery across the cobble street and the aroma brought back the feeling of home and Sundays with Grandma Mae. There was nothing quite as comforting as breaking into a loaf of fresh warm bread and the feeling of solace the second it melted in your mouth. She was in and out of the shop with a soft 'gratzi' and two loaves of ciabatta and began the short six block walk to the home she shared with her lover.
He would be returning this evening from a 'business trip' and she wanted to make sure their 19th century apartment was tidy and stocked. He never cared, in fact, he never cared about much of anything, he had always been told what to believe, how to feel and who to kill. That is, until he met her and she became all he desired in life, all he meant to do right by.
Theirs was a love of circumstance, rebuilt from rubble and ash, piece by piece. He knew some part of her would always love another, and he had come to terms with from the very beginning. The first time he had been inside of her had not been the most wholesome of dances, she was involuntarily intoxicated and hallucinating that his face and name were different. He recoils from that memory and the terrible deeds he was made to watch when he refused to harm her. They would beat him, cut him, burn him, shock him then wipe him and still, each time her big tawny eyes gazed up at him, he would fall in love over again. They couldn't wipe him anymore, but the nightmares remained, the memories of the pain he inflicted and endured tracked him menacingly. He would sometimes wake in a pool of his own sweat and tears, trembling and full of rage but she would be there. She would hold him and run her soft, delicate fingers through his hair and sing songs to comfort his troubled mind. There were no drugs strong enough to temporarily mask his past traumas but, she could always calm his nerves and centre his soul, he was designed to heel fast but she was not.
His sweet Vera had her share of anxieties in life.
Her body didn't adapt like his and though he would hold her close, she still needed to slip a tablet under her tongue and let it dissolve every so often. The episodes had become less as of late, for the both of them because they made each other better.
He wasn't a weapon or a puppet and dirty doer when he was with her, he was simply James.
Vera knew everything about his past, before he became a weapon but she never pressed him, she only divulged information when he asked for it. He enquired often enough simply because he would picture her there with him and it made the information feel real. She would play him movies from every decade and songs, explain historical events and make love, a lot. Even saying a lot was an understatement, he had years to make up for and the company of the most beautiful woman to do so. Despite his odd job, they lived a simple life together in a historical apartment filled with vintage furniture and artwork.
James had entered their home with the silent stealth of a predator. The floor plan was and open concept but the entry way shielded the rest of the space and he hid there for a spell.
There were linen bags filled with goods on the dinette in the kitchen and she emerged from the bedroom in a long floral silken robe. Her lovely locks of dark hair were pinned atop her head and as much as he preferred it down, this way left her neck exposed and vulnerable. Vera began to unpack the groceries and place them in their designated spots. She sighed when she looked up at the clock and opened a bottle of wine, filling a hearty glass and began to sip impatiently.
She was used to waiting for the men she loved, seemingly only attracting men that lead dangerous lives and played it incredibly close to the chest. There is nothing quite as agonizing then to be in the dark about where they are and what their doing, if they were alive or dead in a ditch and wiped from existence. James didn't go away nearly as much as Steve had but it never made it any easier. Sure, part of her still loved Steve and she always would but she craved James and loved him in a way that terrified her core. He was all she had left in the world and the reverse was true for him as well. Vera was a much different woman than the one Steve Rogers once loved and perhaps that's why he stopped. The very sadness that his duty caused was the very reason he let her go, funny how that works.
She could feel her chest begin to tighten and her eyes moisten at the thought of life without James and she threw back the red liquid to dull the idea but it only made it grow. She dropped the glass on the floor and began to sob as she fell to her knees to pick up the pieces.
James was at her side in a flash and he pulled her into his body as he seated himself on the floor. Vera pulled her face up and relief washed over her lovely features, his rough hands held her face there, his thumbs wiping the tears.
"James." She said, breathlessly.
"I'm here, baby." He replied and kissed her forehead.
She smiled and began to forget her doleful thoughts in the electricity of his blue eyes. His chiseled jaw had a light dusting of scruff save for the inch long scar on his cheek, a mark the ring she wore the night she was captured left him. She grinned cheekily as she ran a finger over her handy work, she remembered his reaction well. He had finally put her down after carrying her with ease as he hopped buildings, she wound up and swung her fist as hard as she could and connected with his cheek. The flesh split open and blood dripped out, he brought a half gloved hand to it then tasted the metal liquid and smiled as if it were nothing. James smiled at her now.
"It stung a little, you know." He caught her train of thought.
"I'm sure it did." She replied with light sarcasm.
His hair was lazily slicked from his face, it was still long but not nearly as much as before. Vera liked it this way, so he kept it to please and he would be lying if he said he didn't love when she ran her fingers through it as she began to in the moment.
"I haven't showered for a few days, babe."
He was hesitant in his words, not wanting her fingers massage of his scalp.
The softness of his tendrils was coated with a light layer of oil but she didn't care. He smelt of sweat and iron mixed with his natural woodsy musk and it aroused her senses. Vera never thought the notion of laying with a man that just killed another would excite her. It scared her at first and when she told James she assumed he would think she was insane, but he didn't. When he returned home from missions, their lovemaking became more primal in nature. He was overflowing with excess testosterone and she needed him.
"I don't care."
She replied and crashed her full lips onto his. Their embrace was heated and aggressive, his tongue was quick to push through her mouth and dominate her own. They explored each others mouths with the passion of multiple libidos and James stood with ease and wrapped her long, shapely legs around his hard torso. His boots crunched over the broken glass, his lips not once leaving hers as he carried her to their bedroom. His pants became more and more strained each passing second.
Vera's hands deftly and desperately pawed at the buckles of his jacket and it was successful. She pulled her lips from his to unzip it and she could feel the ground as he lowered her too it. He was wearing a simple black tank top, the marred flesh at the start of his metallic arm always made her pause. No matter how carnal the need, Vera always stopped to kiss were the flesh melded with robotic steel. The sensation of it drove him wild with lust and he growled before using his prosthetic limb to rip open her robe.
Her bareness was something he had memorized for those lonesome nights away from it's warmth and the image that made him hard in an instant and in this case, even more solid. His gentle shove was the equivalent to an average man's abrupt one and she fell back on the bed, flushed with desire.
James pulled off his shirt and exposed his godlike skin. Vera couldn't help herself and rose to sit at the end of the bed to kiss and touch every ridge and muscle. He groaned under her sweet, torturous exploration, the desire and animal like passion boiling his blood with every feathery, teasing kiss.
"Lay back." He demanded with a throaty growl.
When she playfully refused, he pushed her himself and covered her beautiful, curvaceous body with his.
He kissed, licked and bit every inch of flesh on her neck and lips and he hovered over her. The long chain he wore was cool on her skin, it bore a cross and patron saint, a remnant of a faith long lost and forgotten. But he wore it, because Vera gave it to him, to remember her by. His hot mouth covered and licked each nipple, as his flesh hand kneaded roughly and she panted and moaned under his touch. The coolness of his other arm inched it's way lower and lower, past her beautiful round breasts, down her long and curved torso and settled on a rounded hip. His mouth alternated between her lips, her neck and her chest, his metal limb slid further south until he reached the outside of her beautiful mound of womanly flesh. He ran a frigid finger over her opening to elicit a gasp from his lover.
"James, please. Don't tease."
Her breathing was anxious and heavy.
"Why not?" He smiled wickedly and ran dipped a finger inside her slick core.
She gasped again.
"Please, I need you inside me."
Vera wasn't lying, and he needed to be inside of her too but he was testing her desperation and craved those very words. She began reaching for his belt buckle and helped him pull his pants down, freeing his impressive and hardened member from its cage.
His pants barely made it to his knees, boots still laced and on his feet before he filled her waiting flesh with his own. They both cried out at the contact, she was so tight, warm and this was where he was meant to be. Vera gripped onto his brawny back and shoulders, her nails digging in a little deeper and urging him on as his thrusting began to speed up. He lowered onto her, his entire weight flushed against her as he pounded into her, body met every pulse. It was a symphony of skin on skin, growling and moaning, no doubt the neighbours would curse at them again. Their eyes stayed locked, both conveying words with their eyes. They were both close, she nodded completely out of words and incapacitated by the building release of immense pleasure in her core. He could feel her impossibly tight walls begin to constrict even more, and she cried out as she rode her orgasm. James covered her mouth with his and tried to hold on but he couldn't any longer, he spilled himself inside her with a final growl of her name and release.
He rolled her with him and she curled into his body, when she looked down, she giggled softly.
She went to the foot of the bed and began to untie his boots and pull them off, then followed his pants.
"I just couldn't bother, I had to be inside you."
He pulled her back up flushed against his body and the two lovers lay there for a few minutes, kissing and touching until Sgt. Barnes reluctantly untangled himself from her glorious limbs.
"Vera, baby, I have to shower."
She sighed.
"Fine." She pouted and covered herself up with her robe.
He bit his lip and sped to the bathroom before he changed his mind and ravaged her again. Vera beat him to it, she jumped into the shower and claimed that her hair needed a rinse. He had her two more times before the water became freezing cold, her legs were shaky but he steadied her. He towelled off in the bedroom when he was certain she could stand properly and smiled taking pride in that small pleasure. There was a loud knock at there front door and the two lovers eyed each other.
" Must be the neighbours telling us to quiet down." She smiled and combed through her hair.
James pulled on some jeans and grabbed a pistol and hid it behind his back, he may have a good life now but he would always be a soldier and now he had someone worth more than any treasure in the world to protect. He opened the door and fell silent.
Vera grew concerned at the growing silence in the apartment, sure James wasn't the most talkative of men but it was almost eerie now.
She threw on a linen sundress and walked out of their room, she wanted to scream but nothing came out.
" Hi, Vera."
That All American smile and those beaming blue eyes made her hurt all over again.
"Steve?"