A/N: So here's something we've all been waiting for. The first story in my continuation of By The Light Of The Moon. If you've read my other connected one-shot, 75 Minutes, please note that the majority of this story takes place AFTER that story. The first scene, however, takes place immediately after By The Light Of The Moon. If you haven't read 75 Minutes, I recommend you go do that right now, then come back and read this.

I hope you all enjoy!

The evening of November 1st saw Jane lounging around on Darcy's couch, watching a black and white love story play out on the TV screen. After an eventful Halloween, this was just what she need to relax. She might've dozed off if she hadn't slept a full eight hours during the day, and if Darcy wasn't in the kitchen loudly chatting over the phone about whatever 'that dickwipe Ted from the break room' did to get nutshotted by 'Crazy Haired Angie, the receptionist'.

As Darcy laughed uproariously, Jane shoved a pillow as far as she could into her ear. That brought the grinding pain down to a lowish drone, but she cursed her sensitive hearing anyway. Thankfully, Darcy chose that moment to hang up and come skipping into the living room. She plopped down next to Jane and pulled the pillow away.

"Wakey wakey eggs and bakey," she sang. Jane reached for the pillow, but Darcy threw it aside. "Ah ah ah! Get up, Lazybones. You have to tell me what happened last night."

"What makes you think anything happened?"

"Because I know you," Darcy said. "You've lived here practically as long as I have. Come, my beautiful non-sparkler. Tell me the tale!"

Jane sat up, glaring sharply at Darcy. "First off, I told you never to mention those books to me again. Second... If you must know, I went to the park, I saw some trick-or-treaters, I met a guy, and I sat in a coffee shop for a while. Okay?"

"Okay," Darcy said, giving her a thumbs up. "But what was that third thing you said?"

Jane bit her lip. "I sat in a coffee shop."

"No, before that."

"...I saw some trick-or-treaters?"

"After that."

She gave Jane an accusing stare, all but forcing her to acquiesce. "Fine. I met a guy."

Darcy squealed and jumped around. "That's my girl! I knew one day you'd find a nice vampire boy. Tell me all about him!"

This was why Jane should've just stayed in her shed. "Well, he's not a vampire first of all."

"Oooooh, a forbidden love between the living and the undead. I like it! Very… er, not Twilight."

Jane raised an eyebrow at her but continued. "His name is Bucky, and he's a really sweet guy. We talked a bit, I met some of his friends-"

"Did you bite him?"

"We went to the- what? No, I didn't bite him! What kind of question is that?"

"I think it's a logical one. Unless you didn't tell him you're a vampire."

Jane sighed. She checked the clock on the wall, but it was still three hours before Ian got home from work, and until then, Darcy would remain undistracted and determined to get whatever she could out of her.

"I didn't tell him," Jane said. "He figured it out himself… because he's a werewolf."

Darcy's eyebrows shot up. "A werewolf?"

Jane nodded.

"Like an actual, howling, transforms in the full moon werewolf?"

"Well, he's an Alpha, so he doesn't have to change if he doesn't want to."

"Damn, that's even better," Darcy grinned. "Your love story is going to be one for the books. Specifically the book I will eventually write."

"You'd better not."

"How does 'The Vampire and Her Alpha Werewolf Lover' sound?"

"Like self-published erotica on Amazon." Jane picked up another pillow and threw it at her. "Knock it off. I literally met this guy yesterday. Just because we had a nice time doesn't mean he'll want to see me again."

"Geez. Try being positive once in a while. It'll do you good."

When Jane didn't answer, Darcy got up off the couch. She walked out of Jane's peripheral vision, humming to herself about getting something to eat before she starved to death. That was unlikely, in Jane's opinion, but it was not one she cared to voice. Not when she was about to get her coveted alone time back. Her brow furrowed when she didn't hear Darcy go all the way to the kitchen. Unless Jane's ears were deceiving her (even more unlikely), it sounded like she'd paused at the front door.

"Hey, Jane?" Darcy called out, an odd quality to her voice. "This werewolf guy you met. Would he happen to be around six feet tall, dark hair, blue eyes, and hotter than the seventh circle of Hell?"

Jane sat up. "What are you talking about?"

Darcy pointed at the door, but even without going over, Jane knew what she would see through the glass. She peeked out the window instead, and there he was. He had the on the same jacket, but even without it, he was unmistakable. He had one hand in his pocket as the knuckle of the other tapped lightly on the door.

"Oh my god," Jane hissed. "I can't believe it. He's here."

"What do you mean you can't believe it? If you had a good time, did you really think he wouldn't call the next day?"

"I mean, I'd hoped, but I wasn't expecting anything, I just-"

"Hey there!" Bucky called out. "Someone going to answer the door?"

"Can he hear us?" Darcy whispered.

"Yes, I can," Bucky answered.

"He's a werewolf, Darcy, he can hear everything," Jane ground out.

"More or less," said Bucky.

Darcy gave Jane a look, a silent signal of 'what are you waiting for?' that Jane couldn't ignore if she wanted to. Going to the door, she did everything she could to keep herself calm. She inhaled oxygen into lungs that didn't need it. Her fingers flexed in and out, an old technique Erik once taught her that usually worked wonders.

She opened the door and smiled at Bucky. "Hey there. How's it going?"

Jane switched on the desk lamp, filling the room with a golden glow that mimicked the bare visages of sunlight creeping below the horizon. As it vanished, and the moon rose to take its place, Jane marked off another day on her calendar. The time was a quarter to five. Right on schedule.

She set the alarm on her phone for six in the morning. Once the sun started to rise, she'd want to be back inside, curtains drawn and under the covers as soon as possible. She might not sleep right away- she never did- but after yesterday's nearly disastrous trip to the grocery store, she wasn't taking chances. The room spun a little, though that could be attributed to the artificial light and the undrawn curtains. She threw them open, embracing the healing rays of moonlight. It was beautiful tonight. Not yet full, but perfect for a first date.

She'd found a slip of paper taped to the back of the door upon waking up. An address was written on it with 'hope to see you soon' and a winky face underneath. The street was not one Jane knew, but a quick search on google maps brought her to a square brick building pressed between a record store and a pizzeria. There were umbrellas set up over an outdoor dining area, but the picture had been taken at night, and the inside was packed with people. Over the door was a sign in bold neon lights. Jane giggled at the predictable name.

Next, she dug through her closet, past her day clothes to the black plastic bag stuffed into the far corner. Inside was everything Darcy had ever bought for her on one of her bi-monthly shopping sprees. In her mind, the real reason Jane didn't have a boyfriend was that she didn't dress the part, not because she was partially dead.

Jane dumped out a pile of backless dresses and lacy thong panties. One dress went down to her knees and flared at the skirt. Jane held it up in front of the mirror, thankful that the 'no reflection' myth, like so many others, wasn't true to life. The dress looked like it would fit her, and it had a back, she peeled off her pajamas, leaving her underwear on, and kicked the thongs under the couch. Maybe later she'd start a nice bonfire.

To her relief, the dress fit her like a glove. It accentuated her curves, making her look bustier than she was. Casual enough to say 'I don't expect anything', but racy enough to say 'I'm up for it if you are.'

She shoved the bag back into her closet, feeling around for her shoes. There was a pair back there that was almost the same color as her dress. She found a few boxes, one of them smaller than the rest with something rough on top. Furrowing her brow, Jane stretched to get a better grip on it. Out came a cardboard box covered in watercolor stars. It was instantly recognizable and Jane's heart skipped a beat as she read the words painted on the lid.

"Jane's Happy Life."

Inside was an array of old photographs, buttons from her mother's favorite dress, a decaying feather she'd found on her class field trip to the zoo in second grade, a gemstone from her father the year before he died. So many precious memories, coming back to her in a powerful wave. This was the way she lived once. This was a normal, human life...

One of the photos was an old polaroid, taken in the living room of her childhood home. The TV in the background was on, but the screen was just a glowing white ball of snow. The whole thing was enormous, too. Hard to believe that used to be state of the art technology. Jane's six-year-old self waved at the camera, as did the blonde headed boy sitting next to her. Now there was a face she could pick out of a crowd. Only one person was missing, and then it would've been a perfect shot.

At the bottom of the box was another trinket that made her gut twist. Jane held it up to the light, staring through the hole in the middle. She felt the plastic gold band and the tiny imprinted letters that still held traces of red paint. Without it, it would be impossible to make out what it said, but Jane knew. She'd always know.

"I can't believe you're leaving! You can't move away. You just can't!"

She had tears in her eyes and her head hurt from crying, but no matter how much he teased her for it, Jane had always been a crybaby. All the other kids in school would laugh if they were here, but if it meant his parents would change their mind and stay, Jane would've happily let them. She clung to him with stubby arms that couldn't reach all the way around him, skinny as he was.

He bonked her lightly on the head with his fist. "Stupid. Do you think that's the face I want to see when I think of you?"

Jane sucked back the mucus and wiped her eyes. It did little good, as his father called out that he had to get in the car now so they could get to the airport on time. Jane hugged him even tighter, using all the strength in her tiny body to keep him just a little bit longer.

"You can't…" she repeated. "I'll miss you too much."

His father was still yelling, but his mother could be heard calming him down. "Let them finish saying goodbye," she said. "We'll make it."

Jane felt his hand on her head again, this time a gentle pat. "Jane, if you promise to stop crying, I'll give you a gift before I go."

"A gift?" she asked.

He smiled at her, a rarity in its own right. He never smiled unless he'd just put a frog in someone's backpack or dyed his brother's hair pink. "That's better. I'm not sure if it's good enough, though."

Jane scowled and puffed out her cheeks. "Why are you always so mean to me?"

"There it is," he said, pointing at her face. "That's how I want to remember you."

He fished through his pocket and pulled out two rings. They looked like the stuff you get out of egg toys, and both of them read 'Best Friends Forever' in big red letters.

"What's this for?" Jane asked as he took her by the hand and slid on the ring.

"So you won't forget me," he said. "You wear yours all the time, and I'll wear mine, and someday, when we're older, we'll find each other again. Until then, it'll help you when you're nervous. It'll give you courage."

"How's a dumb old ring supposed to do that?"

"Because I said so."

'Because I said so.' If she remembered correctly, that had been his answer to all of her questions.

Why should they jump the fence to Mr. Porter's backyard to see if a monster lived there? Because he said so.

Why would bringing a live garter snake to class and feeding it a mouse count as a science project? Because he said so.

Amazing what could come out of a six-year-old's mind, especially that six-year-old. Lord only knows how he turned out as an adult. Thinking about that would only make Jane's good mood plummet, so she closed the box and stored it back into her closet. She kept the ring, turning it between her fingers. It was smaller than she remembered, and despite all of her beliefs to the contrary, her hands had grown since she was six. She could barely get it past the knuckle of her ring finger. It slipped easily onto her pinky finger, and she flexed a few times to make sure there was no risk to her circulation. In proper light, she could almost make out every single letter. 'Best Friends Forever.'

"I hope you still have some courage left in you," she said.

She grabbed her coat and headed out.

Full Moon Cafe and Restaurant was a bustling night spot tucked into the heart of downtown. That was Jane's initial impression upon seeing the line that led out the door and catching the smell of cooking food wafting through the vents. Steak and lobster stuck out to her most apparently, with a hint of green beans and something chocolate for dessert mixed in. At times, Jane lamented that she could no longer eat human food, but this moment trumped them all.

She couldn't see past the crowd, no matter how high she stood on tiptoes. Cursing her lack of height, she went around to the side door. It was propped open, and a young man dragged out a bag of garbage. He had a cigarette clamped between his teeth, and hair so blond it was almost white. He must've seen Jane coming, being in all likelihood another werewolf, but he didn't acknowledge her until she was in front of him, blocking his way.

"Hi, sorry to bother you," she said, "but I wanted to see your boss?"

He took a drag from his cigarette. It was almost out, but he seemed determined to make the most of it. His eyes for a moment turned gold. His lips parted in a faint snarl, and either the crowd was getting louder, or that was a growl she was hearing.

"Any particular reason why?" he asked, looking her up and down like he was sizing up a potential threat. Jane found herself doing the same.

He was taller than her, around Bucky's height, though not nearly as bulky. He had the sinewy build of a marathon runner and the stance of a fighter. If there was an altercation, he would probably win.

"I'm a friend of his," she said firmly. "My name is Jane Foster. He might've mentioned me."

"Not that I'd heard." He hauled the garbage over his shoulder and walked past her, making sure to stab her one more time with his dark lupine gaze.

Jane refused to break eye contact or show fear. He tossed the bag into the dumpster while Jane made her way up the stairs. He caught sight of her and opened his mouth to start yelling. Before he could, the door flew open, and Natasha stepped into view.

"Are you having a nice leisurely walk, Maximoff?" She shouted. "I told you to take out the trash ten minutes ago. Don't tell me you've been out here hitting on customers again."

The face he made, in contrast with the tough guy image he'd been cultivating, brought a smile to Jane's face. He spat and sputtered, his heavily accented words bearing little meaning to Jane beyond frothing rage. Natasha's hand found Jane's shoulder, gently squeezing. "Glad you came. Don't worry about Pietro. He didn't get his afternoon nap today, so he's cranky."

"I heard that!"

"I can tell," Jane whispered back. "Is Bucky here?"

"He is, and he's been waiting for you." Natasha wiggled her eyebrows. "I think he wants to take you on a private tour."

Jane forced a cool smile, even as heat built up inside of her. She walked through the door into a busy kitchen. Chefs and cooking assistants were everywhere, carrying armfuls of food and cooking utensils back and forth between stations. Lycan speed and a mastery of the craft created a swift if hectic routine where Jane could see a family-sized dessert assembled and ready for pick up five minutes after the order came in. She recognized only one man: Clint Barton, Natasha's mate. He wore a white coat and moved a steak off the grill onto a plate with some garnish. He looked their way and winked, gesturing over his shoulder. A man stood there with his back to them, reading off a clipboard. His shoulders bunched, his jacket off for a change. That left him with only a shirt so tight it was like it had been painted on.

Jane crept across the room, all the noise of clanking instruments drowning out her footsteps. She bent her knees, ready to leap at him. He whirled around and hauled her into his arms before she could.

"Nice try," he said, lifting her off her feet, "but you'd have to get up pretty early in the morning to catch me by surprise."

"That's fine," Jane laughed. "I'm always up early."

"You got me there." He set her down, keeping one hand around her waist. "So Jane, welcome to the Full Moon. What do you think?"

Natasha had gone to help Clint clear his station. One man a few spots over shouted for a butcher knife. Clint tossed it by the blade, and the other man snatched it out of the air between his fingers. Neither of them ever looked up.

"It's not what I would've expected from a werewolf pack," Jane observed as another waiter with a tray of appetizers went by. "Does your clientele know the theme of the restaurant?"

"Well, they know that we like to wear gold contact lenses every October," said Bucky. "My pack has about forty members, some of whom are kids. Most packs have had centuries to accumulate enough wealth to take care of everyone, but we're a bunch of misfit nomads who came together three years ago. We gotta make money somehow."

"So you own this restaurant," Jane looked out the swinging doors at the crowded dining room.

"Technically, I co-own it with Natasha," said Bucky. "And technically, we own the whole building. All ten floors."

"All of it?"

"It was a pain in the ass getting the money together, but yup." Bucky moved with her around a man carrying a pot of soup. "We live here for most of the year, except on the full moon when we go into the forest for a week to hunt. Our venison is the most popular item on the menu, for the record. You won't find it any fresher."

"Are you just telling me this because you know I can't eat it and want to torture me?"

"No, he's making small talk because you make him feel like a scared virgin," Clint shouted.

"Hey, Barton, how well do you think you can cook with a broken arm?" Bucky snapped at him.

"Be nice," Jane said, running her thumb over his knuckles. Though Barton and a few other cooks still snickered, this was enough to mollify Bucky. He led her into a more secluded part of the kitchen. Jane's back hit the wall and she felt a blast of ice through her winter coat.

"Sorry, that's the freezer," said Bucky. He hadn't let go of her hand. "I'm glad you came."

"How could I not? I have to find out if yesterday meant anything."

Jane moved off the wall, away from the cold and into his inviting warmth. His hands found her hips and squeezed. "You know, when I kiss a girl the way I kissed you, I like to think I'm making my feelings clear."

Jane licked her lips. Her heart burst from her chest and she could only hope the grin she couldn't wipe off wasn't too deranged. "Well… when I kiss a guy back the way I kissed you back, I like to think I'm making my feelings clear."

He leaned in, his forehead tapping hers. She scraped her nails on his solid pecs and wished he wasn't wearing that stupid shirt. They'd have to fix it soon.

"I think it's time I gave you a tour of my office," he said.

"Is it a big office?" asked Jane.

"Huge," he growled, making her tremble. "I've got a great couch. Very roomy."

"Mmm- let's go check it out."

They half walked, half ran through the kitchen, to the whoops and hollers of those not too busy to cheer their Alpha on. Bucky didn't bother ordering them back to work. Natasha had glared them into submission by the time Bucky smacked his fist on a hand-sized knot in the wall. It turned counterclockwise ten degrees and a portion of the wall slid away to create a doorway.

"Remember to use protection," Natasha sang.

Bucky flipped her off and led Jane into a room exquisitely decorated in warm red hues, from the patterned wallpaper to the mahogany carpet. His desk was on the left, with a small lap, a laptop, and stacks of paperwork. Directly opposite was the couch, perfectly spacious just like he said. It was also very comfortable, as Jane noted in the two seconds between Bucky pushing her down and Bucky pinning her arms over her head. Then he was kissing her, and all coherent thought melted away.

He let go eventually to palm her breasts. With her newfound freedom, Jane pulled his shirt up and explored his back muscles, reveling in the heat that seemed to radiate off him. He worked his tongue into her mouth, and with it came a whole new level of inescapable need. Jane kissed him back with all the fervor of a starving man before a banquet table. It had been at least thirty years since a man touched her like this. Even when she was married, Don had never been so passionate, the workaholic that he was. His idea of 'exciting' was leaving the lights on. Meanwhile, Bucky was five seconds away from ripping her clothes off with his teeth and fucking her like an animal.

Which was why she wanted to scream when someone knocked insistently on the door and refused to stop even after Bucky threw a book at it. "Barnes! It's late. Dinner rush is slowing down and we need to go over tomorrow's specials."

"We have the same specials every Friday, Natasha," Bucky answered. "You know that."

"We cut the chocolate mousse cake and the turkey burger from the menu last month, Bucky," Natasha answered, mimicking his tone. "You forgot that."

Bucky looked ready to kill, but he got up and grabbed his shirt off the floor all the same. Jane watched him put it back on, memorizing every contour of his defined abs and wondering when she'd gotten it off. How long had they been in here?

"Sorry, doll," he said, tucking his shirt in. "Duty calls, but we're finishing this as soon as I'm done, understand?"

Jane quivered at his rough tone and nodded obediently. She fixed her dress and followed him out. "I wanted to see the dining room anyway."

Most of the noise that had earlier assaulted her ears before was gone. The activity in the kitchen had slowed and outside, it was clear that most of the guests had been fed and sent home. Only two or three stragglers remained. Jane walked through the swinging door into a room set up to resemble a mountain lodge. The walls were dark brown with electrical lanterns giving the image of a roaring fire. The twenty or thirty tables were round and big enough for four people. On the far end was the bar with two flatscreen TVs turned on to a football game. Pietro was there, wiping down the bar top. He locked eyes with Jane but looked away quickly.

The place was empty, and a young woman with long brown hair locked the door and switched the OPEN sign to CLOSED. Jane found a table by the windows. The night was still young, but many stores and restaurants had already closed their doors. The few still open were the staples of nightlife. A club on one end, a tavern on the other. She couldn't see it from here, but there was a Denny's one block away where, in true drunk fashion, most people woke up hungover at six in the morning.

She soon grew bored of people watching and slid low in her seat to look at the lanterns. Though artificial, they lacked the fluorescence that would burn her retinas. It didn't hurt her any more than it would a human to gaze at them. She closed her eyes, taking in the hum of activity around her. She tried to listen for Bucky, but she could only make out Natasha in the kitchen barking orders at the staff. She caught bits of Clint's voice as well. Bucky was either keeping quiet or in another room.

Or maybe he was sneaking up on her because he didn't know she could sense people coming too. His shadow descended over her, not directly behind her but close enough. "If you're going to jump me, at least wait until we're not in public," she said.

"That's a hell of an offer, Miss, but I think we should get to know each other first."

That was not Bucky's voice.

Jane nearly tripped on a well-placed table leg getting up. The man behind her watched with amusement as she struggled, never once offering to help. He was an older man, probably in his forties. Not as tall as Bucky, but still towering over her. He looked good for his age, handsome and well built. In a plain leather jacket and dark jeans, he could easily blend into the crowd. Jane knew better, though. Her senses might not be what they could be, but she was learning to recognize the difference between a human and something much darker. The way this man carried himself was exactly like Bucky when he faced down Olivia's coven.

"Sorry," Jane said. "I thought you were someone else…"

"I figured," he said, pulling his hands from his pockets to cross them over his chest. "So what's a nice vampire like you doing in a place like this?"

Okay, so she was right on one count. Definitely another werewolf, and probably not one of Bucky's pack. He seemed more like an Alpha himself, which just made his being here all the stranger.

"I'm seeing someone who works here," she said, crossing her arms in turn. "Just so you know."

He shrugged. "None of my business. I didn't think this place would cater to someone with your kind of diet."

"Even if it doesn't, I can go wherever I want." That came out more defensive than she'd intended, but everything about him put her on edge. He hadn't moved from that spot once, but his body language reminded her of a jungle cat ready to pounce upon its prey, and that didn't change even when the kitchen door flew off its hinges.

"Hey!" Bucky shouted, stalking over to them. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

The man's calm didn't fade, but he inched away from Jane's table. "Relax, Barnes, I was just introducing myself to your girlfriend."

"Like hell." Bucky grabbed the man by the collar and threw him against the wall. His feet were almost off the ground, yet he was still no more perturbed than a man with a fly buzzing around his head. "I told you never to come here, Rumlow. You stay the fuck away from my pack, you hear me?"

The man's eyes flicked briefly to Jane. He took Bucky's arms, wrenching the human one off with little effort. The metal one would not budge until Bucky chose to release him. They stared each other down, more of Bucky's pack spilling out of the kitchen to watch or provide backup. Jane didn't know. All she could think was how lucky they were that the windows were tinted. Entertaining as an Alpha fight would be, it wasn't bound to be good for business.

"That's fine," the man said. He broke eye contact with Bucky and headed for the door. "Heard you guys had this place now and I wanted to check it out for myself, but I can see when I'm not welcome."

He brushed past Jane, bumping her arm and not stopping. Bucky growled and started to go after him, but Jane placed herself in his path. "Let it go. It's not a big deal."

"Everything's a big deal with people like that," Bucky said through grit teeth.

Jane looked over her shoulder, but the man was already gone. Bucky ordered his pack back to work, and many of them grumbled like they were disappointed by the lack of bloodshed.

"Who was that?" Jane asked.

"Nobody," said Bucky, "Just one of the many assholes I've had the displeasure of knowing. If you ever see him again, walk away. That guy's nothing but trouble."

They went back into the kitchen, and Bucky immediately took over for Natasha, shouting commands and riding on the dishwasher for not spot checking the silverware. It was thus made clear that the conversation was over, which was fine with Jane. They had better things to do after all. She waited as Bucky delegated Pietro to inventory duty, meeting the younger man's groans with a few choice words that left no room for argument. Then she slipped her hand into his.

"How about a walk in the park?" she asked. "It'll be empty by now. Just us…"

"Janie, if it were up to me, we'd be in my office, and we wouldn't come out for a very long time," he had her flush against him, and everyone around them was making sure not to look the wrong way, "but I'm up for whatever you want, babe."

They left immediately, the lights shutting off behind them. It was a little past midnight now, and the streets were silent. A cool wind blew, leaves dancing around their feet. The clouds were gathering; it looked like it would rain later. The outer gates of the park drew closer. The padlock was in place, but Jane knew other ways to get in. The fence on the south end had a few loose bars that popped in and out with ease.

"So, after our romantic walk," Bucky said, "what do you say I show you my apartment? I have the whole top floor to myself."

"And a very roomy bed?"

Bucky grinned.

Jane rolled her eyes. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"

"I can't help it. You're irresistible." He kissed her soundly, Jane melting into him with a moan and a whimper as his teeth scraped her bottom lip and his tongue licked into her mouth.

"Talk about irresistible…" Jane mumbled.

They stumbled into an alley. A wooden crate proved sturdy enough to hold their weight when Bucky sat with Jane in his lap. He pushed her coat off and threw it aside; she didn't need it anyway. She grinded down on him, reveling in the feel of his body's reaction. A few cars drove by, and the rational side of her insisted that they stop and go somewhere else before they gave all the homeless people and coked up clubbers a show.

"We should go," she said, breaking the kiss. "Your place."

"In a minute," said Bucky. He had her by her thighs, soft flesh under satiny fabric.

She moved her tongue with his, exploring his mouth and his body, learning where he liked to be touched. She found a spot on his side that made him jerk, and she filed that tidbit of information away for later. The big bad Alpha wolf was ticklish.

'Never thought the night could've ended like this,' Jane thought. She closed her left hand into a fist around Bucky's shirt. 'Thanks for the extra dose of bravery.'

She rubbed her pinkie finger, seeking out the thin gold plastic. She ran her thumb from the tip of her finger to the top of her palm. Skin, skin, skin…

No ring.

Jane flew to her feet, leaving Bucky frozen with his arms around air. He blinked and looked around for her. Jane caught the change in his expression, but couldn't care less as she checked both hands and all ten fingers more times than was reasonable. It only took one to see they were all completely bare.

"Oh no…" Jane got down on her hands and knees. "Where is it?"

"What are you doing?" Bucky asked. He stood over her. Jane checked between his feet and then moved around him, forcing him to step aside before she tripped him. There was nothing where he'd been standing either. Jane's heart was fast sinking into the depths of her stomach. "Jane?"

"I lost it," she muttered to herself. "No. I can't lose it. Where is it?"

"Wait, what did you lose?"

It wasn't here. That meant it had to be somewhere else they'd been. Somewhere down the street or at the restaurant. The kitchen maybe? Or the office. They'd been fooling around for god only knows how long. At any time it could've slipped off and rolled under the couch.

Jane sprinted out of the alley, scanning every corner and crack in the pavement. She never slowed down, even as Bucky raced after her screaming her name until she was back in front of the darkened restaurant.