A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first fic in the MCU fandom. I was watching CA:CW and this came to mind. Just a short piece.

This takes place about a year or so after CA:WS. Bucky had some time hiding after everything that went down and away from Hydra. Steve and Sam managed to find him and bring him back to the Avengers compound. Civil War has not happened. Poor Bucky just really needs a hug.

Let me know what you think! :)

Sunshine & Lemons

He stared at the to-go, paper cup in his hands, the heat from the black coffee seeping into his palms. He desperately tried to focus on the feeling of the warmth, to drown out everything else assaulting his senses. Unfortunately, being an ex-assassin and super soldier…his mind processed everything searching for signs of danger. The group of three, young ladies at a table nearby were talking animatedly and laughing. A man sat in a lounge chair behind him typing away on his laptop. The smell of ground coffee, the older lady standing in line's strong floral perfume and excessive sugar in the air made him take shallow breaths. A car alarm started going off at least one street away causing him to almost jump out of his seat. The wooden table he sat at had nicks and dings from prior customers, flawing the finish. Inside the coffee shop, the air was warm but unpleasantly so for him. He dared not take his jacket off though, no matter how uncomfortable he became. The metal arm would attract unwanted attention.

He sighed, rubbing the heel of his right hand into his eye. He was supposed to be out running around the lake with Steve and Sam. A much needed break from the indoor track and treadmills of the Avengers compound. The fresh scent of spring, the warm sun and the feeling of not being trapped indoors should have invigorated him. Instead he felt drained. The nightmares last night had attacked in waves that left him thrashing in his bed, screaming to escape them. Finally, having overheard from his room next door, Steve came into his room and woken him. There was no sleep after that though. The faces of victims…the memories of torture endured…all lingered at the edges of his mind, waiting to devastate his sleep. Normally he would loved to have raced Steve and tease Sam for being slow but today…he just needed space.

It had been six months since Steve convinced him to stay at the Avengers compound in upstate New York. Little by little he was healing physically, mentally and psychologically. Some days were better than others. It helped having both Steve and Nat encouraging him. Besides those two and Sam, the others gave him a wide berth. Probably for the best. Stability was not his strongest suit right now.

His eyes did a quick, repetitive sweep over the lobby, more habitual then actually necessary. After running for a short bit, he told Steve and Sam he would meet up with them at the usual stopping point. He said he was too tired to run. Steve seemed to hesitate about leaving his best friend alone but gave in and took off with Sam on his heels. Realistically, he should have found a bench outside to sit on…to stay away from people. His feet, strangely enough, carried him to the small town's local coffee shop. It was perfectly decorated in an Adirondack theme- lots of wood panels and furniture, flannel fabrics and a fire going in a firepit tucked into one of the walls. It should have been relaxing. Yet he felt anything but relaxed.

Sitting with his back to the wall, near the door, he wondered if he should just leave and head to the meet up spot. Everything in here was too much. The heat was beginning to suffocate him now. The sharp sounds of the steam wands and grinders were grating to his ears. The coffee tasted bitter, bringing forth unpleasant memories. So many people talking and laughing…didn't they have jobs? Other places to be? It was around nine in the morning but the traffic coming in and out was unending. A business man suddenly dropped his coffee cup near the register, spilling coffee all over the counter and floor. A cry went up from the baristas and those nearby, trying to help clean up the mess. The impact though…the sound of the cup hitting the floor caused him to jerk. The sound was loud and sharp. Like a gunshot. The dark stain on the floor. In the right light, it could look like blood. Another victim. Another death by his hand. Panic rose up in his chest. The horrible memories from his dreams took their cue and entered to ravage his mind. So many faces. It had felt so easy at the time. They meant nothing. Just the mission mattered. He always completed his mission. He closed his eyes, trying to push the images away. He had to get out. He could not do this here. His chest felt constrained. His head began to swim. He had to get out. Everything was in overdrive. Current and past blurred together. Not now, please. He could not lose control…not here. Too many people…too many witnesses. He had to leave now. He needed air.

"Hey, handsome. I've never seen you here before."

So focused on keeping himself controlled and outwardly calm, he completely missed her approach to his table. He wanted to groan, tell her to get lost, not interested, whatever it took to make her walk away. But, even after all these decades and Hydra brainwashing, a flash of memory- his mother practically beating into him the importance of respecting women- came to the forefront of his mind. A small smile touched his lips at the memory. His mother had been livid with him for throwing mud and splattering it all over the neighbor girl's pretty, new dress. Steve had stood next to him, taking the scolding also so his best friend would not be alone to face the wrath of Mrs. Barnes. At the time, he had been terrified but looking back now, he fondly regarded it. His memories from before Hydra were painstakingly slow to return, particularly childhood ones. He would have to remember to tell Steve about the memory.

Unfortunately, the nostalgic smile on his lips, his visitor misconstrued thinking it was because of her. She placed a flat palm on the table, leaning her hip against the edge. "I'm Catie. What's your name? Or should I just call you sexy?"

He peeked at her from the corner of his eyes, keeping his gaze focused on the cup still in his hands. She was very pretty- bright red lips, smoky eyes, full rack in a tight work-out top. He tried to open his mouth to say something but the panic in his chest restricted his airway. He felt like a fish out of water. Hands trembling ever so slightly. The desperate need to escape came back redoubled. She stood in his way. How could he get by without causing a scene? Where was Steve when he needed him? Oh God! His stomach whirled and twisted making him feel nauseous.

"Hey, sweetheart, thanks for saving a spot for me." Someone slid into the chair next to his.

Could this get any worse? He swore silently to himself. Why were these women trying to practically kill him now? He needed to get out. Now. Tears pricked at his eyes. He could not keep this up. The panic…the memories repressed…the feeling of helplessness was threatening to drown him. Someone was going to get hurt. He only could hope it was him.

The lady next to him turned to the first. "Hey, Catie. Nice seeing you again. My boyfriend and I are having an importance discussion so if you don't mind giving us some space."

His left hand was clenching the cup too tightly, the cup giving way under the metal's pressure. He needed to relax. He needed air. Why could they not just leave him alone?

Catie huffed and stomped away without a backward glance, the bell from the door chiming signaling her exit.

"I'm going to put my arm around you, ok? I'm going to move slow…tell me if I hurt you."

Before he could counter her, tell her he just needed to get out, he needed air…it was too late. Her right arm went across his broad shoulders, tucking him closer to her chest. He could not focus on it. Their faces, the blood, the panic, it was becoming unbearable.

Her musical voice softened, closer to his ear. "Breath with me, sweetheart. Follow me. In…Out…Focus on that."

He tried, he was not sure why but her voice pulled at him. His mind focused on her melodious voice encouraging him, the feeling of her chest expanding and contracting against his left arm, the scent of lemon wrapping around him. Without warning, she placed her left hand over his. He tensed, the unexpected touch catching him off-guard. She was touching his metal hand! He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the disturbing sensation. She needed to let go, but a small piece of him yearned for the contact…to ground him...suddenly feeling less alone.

"Listen to me." She whispered out, her warm breath hitting his neck. "I want you to focus on the feeling of the sunshine hitting you through the window. It's warm, isn't it? So rejuvenating. Now take a deep breath and focus on the smell of the coffee. That's it. Focus on those, nothing else. Deep breath in. Deep breath out."

He followed her instructions unquestioningly, taking a deep breath when she did and releasing it when she did. The feeling of the sunshine on his face felt pleasant. Instead of the coffee, he focused on the lemon scent coming off her. The fresh, citrusy smell was inviting and oddly nostalgic. Something about lemonade in summer tickled the back of his mind. Unconsciously he found his left hand releasing the paper, coffee cup and allowing their fingers to intertwine. It took several minutes for him to fully calm down. His breathing steadied. The panic in his chest dwindled. The haunting memories regressed to the deepest parts of his mind. His hands ceased trembling. During this time, her cheek lay against his shoulder, her exaggerated breathing a reminder for him to follow.

Once fully under control and calm, he sat up straighter to look at his heroine beside him. Somehow in the span of several minutes, she helped alleviate the panic and fear he had been fighting since his nightmares that night. Feeling his shifting, she sat up and he got his first real look at her. Something fluttered within his chest. Her dirty-blonde hair was up in a ponytail. She had alabaster skin and a few freckles across her cheeks and bridge of her nose. Her upper lip was just slightly fuller than her bottom with a sheen of gloss on them. Her eyes were amber and warm as honey set in long lashes. Guessing, he would say she was probably twenty-six or twenty-seven. She was definitely pretty, not the typical beautiful, but he did not mind staring at her.

"How are you feeling?"

"Bet…" He swallowed, clenching and unclenching his right hand. "Better. Thank you."

She smiled, a warmness conveyed in her expression and voice. "Are you meeting someone here?"

"No... At the park."

"Ok. I'm actually heading that way. If you want to walk me there, I would like that. It got a bit loud in here for my taste and I wouldn't mind getting some air."

It did not go unnoticed how she phrased her offer. She was giving him the opportunity to escort her verse offering to walk and keep an eye on him. Since going to the compound, it always felt like people were waiting for him to lose it. How they phrased things, how they acted around him made him aware that he was the unstable one needing help. Now this pretty lady was giving him the option to choose to walk with her or stay here. A choice. A small one but still he got to make it. Although it was no real choice at all.

"Yes ma'am, I'll walk you."

Her smile broadened at the 'ma'am', making her eyes sparkle. "Well aren't you quite the gentleman."

He decided then and there she was beautiful.

She released his left hand from hers, which he had not realized he was still holding, and stood up. "Let me grab my stuff quick, that ok?"

He nodded. Seeing her stand up now, he had not realized how short and curvy she was. She could not have been taller than 5'3", making her almost an entire foot shorter than him. Her body was the perfect definition of an hourglass figure. With the form fitting jeans and a green, long-sleeve shirt she wore, it showed she had been well-endowed with certain assets. He needed to stop ogling her as she walked away.

Quickly she grabbed what looked like a large purse from a nearby table and slipped a book into it before walking back over to him. He rose as she approached and moved towards the door, making sure to hold it open for her.

A soft, light giggle escaped her as she stepped by him. "You sure know how to treat a girl, sweetheart."

The beginnings of a blush started to form on his cheeks. Falling into step with her, he made sure to stand on her left side and closer to the street. A faint memory appeared, something the old Bucky would do, and he impulsively acted upon it. Carefully but purposefully he snagged her left hand and put it in the crook of his arm. Butterflies erupted in his stomach, a nervousness settling over him that he had not experienced in decades. Was this safe to do? Did she want this? He used to be so confident with women. Now, he was a shell of his former self…only bits and pieces lingering.

She glanced down at her hand around his arm then up into his dark eyes before smiling. "I could get used to this." A wink followed her comment then she turned back to focus on the sidewalk.

His heart fluttered and a goofy grin spread across his face. Maybe his instincts had not forgotten everything.

A breeze off the lake blew a few stands of his shoulder-length, dark brown hair across his face. The air clung to the last hints of winter's chill but the sun compensated, burning brightly in the clear, blue sky. Most of the trees had their leaves back, a few with buds. The promise of spring flowers and a renewal in the circle of life. They walked in comfortable silence as they passed the downtown store fronts. A few others walked by them, no one giving them more than a single look.

"Thank you..." He softly said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "…for earlier."

"You're welcome."

After another few steps, he ventured to ask the question hanging over him. "How did you know?"

"About what?"

He stopped, turning to face her. "How…how did you know I needed help? And what to do? I've never calmed down so quickly."

She tilted her head up to meet his eyes, a soft, sad smile on her face…like she understood. "I've been helping my older sister for a few years now. She…well, let's say her last boyfriend was an asshole and didn't treat her right. She is still suffering with PTSD because of him. I saw you and recognized a few of the signs but weirdly…I just knew." With her other hand, she cupped his cheek, staring into his eyes. He could not help it, he leaned into her touch like a sapling desperate for the sun's rays to provide a necessity for life. It had been so long since someone had touched him gently like this.

She opened her mouth as if to say something then closed it. Withdrawing her hand from his cheek, a mischievous glint entered her eyes. "Besides, I went to school with Catie. She's a man-eater. You didn't seem interested, so I guessed you wouldn't mind my intervening."

He chuckled as they started walking again, keeping her hand tucked in the crook of his arm. He was not ready to lose contact with her.

"Can I ask you something else?"

She squeezed his arm. "Sure."

"What were you reading? I saw you put a book in your bag."

A blush blossomed on her cheeks as she bit her bottom lip. "Only if you promise not to laugh."

"Promise."

"The Odyssey."

"The…the classic? The Greek story, right?"

"Yeah, I'm kind of a huge history nerd…and I just love the story. My friends make fun of me about it."

"I wouldn't make fun of you for that, doll. It just shows you have a sophisticated taste."

Her blush deepened, eyes downcast, but a smile on her lips. He decided making her blush and smile could be his favorite new pastime.

They approached the small city park, just at the end of the main street. It was nestled amongst oak and elm trees against the lake's edge. A small playground stood in the middle with a swing set and a few benches and picnic tables scattered about. They stopped and stood on the sidewalk in front of the park.

"Thanks for walking with me. My house is just up the street." She turned her face up to meet his gaze.

Everything in him screamed to fight for more time with her. Since she first spoke to him and had him follow her breathing, a tranquility hovered over him that he had never experienced. Besides, he liked being with her. A sense of the old Bucky was coming back. "Do you want me to walk you there? I don't mind."

"Aren't you supposed to be meeting someone?"

He shrugged. "They can wait…actually, they probably won't be here for a while anyway. One of them is slow."

She raised an eyebrow.

"We…we were going to run around the lake for our cardio today. I wasn't feeling well so I declined but I'll make up for the miles later or do twice as much tomorrow."

"Run around the lake? That's at least seven miles!" Her eyes widened and scanned his body rapidly. "No wonder you look so good!"

He blinked, caught off-guard by her comment but then a shit-eating grin grew on his lips.

At that same moment, her mouth dropped open and she covered her face with her free hand. "Oh my God, I can't believe I said that out loud. I'm so sorry. I swear I'm not trying to hit on you."

"I wouldn't mind if you did, angel. I could easily return the favor."

She laughed, a lovely, musical sound. "You're good for my self-esteem, sweetheart."

Using his left hand, he tucked a few fly-away strands of hair behind her ear. They stood smiling at one another, encased in a bubble of their own making. In the moment, a sense of hope and anticipation filled him. He would have given anything to know what she was thinking of right now.

"Bucky?!"

He swiveled to look behind him, down the sidewalk. Steve and Sam were walking towards them, sweat coating their shirts. At the call, she slipped her arm from around his and he immediately lamented the loss of her touch.

"Hey, you ready to head out, Buck?" Steve asked as they approached. He could see the two guys not so subtly assessing the lady next to him. A twinge of jealousy arouse that he shoved back down.

"Um, yeah…I…" He started but she interrupted, placing a hand on his arm.

"It's ok. I usually walk home. I'll see you around, sweetheart." She held his eyes, patting his arm reassuringly. Then she turned to Steve and Sam, giving them a courteous smile and walked away.

"See ya, doll."

She turned around and held his gaze for a moment before breaking out into a beaming smile and chuckling. Turning back, she continued on the sidewalk away from the main street.

"Dude, is that why you ditched us?" Sam asked, eyes following her.

Steve spoke up before Bucky could give a sarcastic retort. "What's her name?"

Bucky froze. It felt like the world around him stood still momentarily. How had he not gotten her name during their time talking? It had been so easy, so effortless. It felt like he had known her for years. "Aw, damn it."

"Shit, you didn't get her name?" Sam asked in horror. Suddenly he cupped his hands around his mouth and called out to her. "Hey, beautiful. What's your name?"

She spun around but continued to walk backwards as she replied. "Alesha!"

A part of him wanted to melt. He knew her name. He took a step towards her, locking eyes. "Can I see you soon?"

She stopped, hands on her hips, as if debating what to say. After a hesitation, she put a hand up and beckoned him over with a single finger. His feet started moving before his brain caught up. He jogged over to where she waited, coming to stand in front of her.

"Hand." She said, digging in her purse.

He held his right hand out, unsure what that had to do with anything. In a moment, she retrieved a pen out of her purse and took his hand in hers. She wrote on the back of his hand but his entire focus was on the sweet smile on her lovely face and her pretty, glossy lips.

"That's my number. Text me. I always have Wednesdays off if you're free then. I often take my dog to the local walking trails of you wouldn't mind skipping your run and walking with me."

"I would love to, Alesha." The taste of her name on his tongue felt like pure sugar.

"Ok. I'll wait for your text…Bucky?" She held her hand out as if to shake his but instead he grabbed and kissed the back of it, a teasing smirk on his lips. The scent of lemon enveloped him once again and he could not help taking a deep breath.

Her blush returned and she bit her lip. "Oh, sweetheart, you're going to make me swoon."

"I promise I'll catch you, doll."

She laughed as she squeezed his hand, he kept her hand trapped in his, then took a step back. "I really need to go…bye, Bucky."

"Good-bye, Alesha." He regretfully released her hand and watched, as she smiled then turned around and kept walking. Her hips swayed with each step as her ponytail bounced. Dips and curves outlined her form in appealing ways. After a long moment of admiring her form, he turned around and headed back to Steve and Sam who both were grinning broadly at him.

"Are you ready now?" Steve asked jokingly, clapping a hand on his best friend's shoulder. "You always had a way with the dames."

"Dude, you had better call her." Sam put in, following behind.

As soon as they got into the black SUV parked along the street, Bucky grabbed his cell phone and text her, unwilling to wait longer.

-Hey, doll. What if I don't want to wait until next Wednesday to see you again? Can I see you sooner?

A few minutes went by with Bucky in the back seat, his heart pounding, until his phone chirped.

-Hey sweetheart. You play your cards right, I may have a few hours open on Sunday.

-I'll take it.

-Ok. Let me text you this evening and we can confirm a time and place. Sound ok?

-Whatever works for you, angel. I'll be happy with just ten minutes to see your beautiful face.

-I'm swooning right now…and you aren't here to catch me. So unfair. ;) I'll text you later.

-I'll be waiting.

Bucky sat back with his head against the head rest and looked out the car window. It had been decades since he felt this light and happy. Rationally he knew he should not be getting a head of himself but there was something about her that made him feel …alive…hopeful…vibrant…peaceful. He tapped his phone against his leg, excited energy coursing through him. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the warmth of the sunshine on his face and the lingering scent of lemon that reminded him of her. Thinking of her hand in the crook of arm and her hand cupping his cheek, he could not help the easy smile that slipped onto his face at the memory. He could not wait to hear from her tonight…and Sunday could not come soon enough.