A/N: Hi all! This is my new CA fanfiction! I am setting it up under Captain America as this particular story takes place during the first Captain America. This will stay in line with canon in some parts, but it will diverge in others. It begins post camp liberation, as well as post form of the commandos, but before any mission of major note. Anyway, please leave your questions in the reviews under accounts and I will PM you answers (unless they're major spoilers, of course!)

Questions for this chapter for ya'll- how do you feel about the beginning portrayal of Bucky? Is there anything you think needs to be changed? What is your first view of Kit? Finally, what do you think will be the conflict introduced with the addition of Kit's presence?

As always, please FAVE, FOLLOW, and (!) REVIEW (!)


1

The Meeting

It was supposed to be a simple night out for them all while they were recuperating from the last mission into enemy territory- their first since they had formed together as a group to fight Hydra.

Surprisingly, it was Steve who had volunteered the burlesque show, which had garnered him relentless teasing from the other men. Bucky, on the other hand, was quiet tonight.

He couldn't quite put a word to the emotion that he was feeling mixed with contemplation. Expectation, maybe.

His right hand played along his leg as they entered the small theatre that was tucked away from clear sight. They were a few blocks from their normal bar and he resisted the urge to check his pocket for his knife as they took seats at the back of the theatre that was packed with other visiting soldiers.

A squeal pierced the air behind them just as they got comfortable and they all jumped.

"Steve!"

The squeal forced them to turn their heads to the side and they caught sight of the spekked out pixie of a woman just as Steve stood back up to meet her.

"Don't he and Carter have a thing?" Gabe chortled and Bucky nodded absently, his fingers digging into the leg of his pants.

Steve spoke with the woman for a few minutes before pulling her over to introduce them all.

"Connie, let me introduce you to the Howling Commandos." Steve cycled through each of them and they each made it a contest of seeing who could charm her the most.

"So, how did you meet Rogers?" Gabe translated for Dernier.

Connie laughed with a wave of her hand, "I was one of the girls on the USO trip, but my cousin runs the show and got me a job here about a month ago."

She chatted with them for a few minutes and Bucky tuned them all out, his eyes wandering the packed room.

For a few minutes nothing really caught his attention until he felt almost compelled to glance up to the rafters where his eyes widened in surprise.

A shadowed male figure sat perched in the corner of the rafters, near the stage.

He glanced back at Steve and the woman.

"Connie, who is that in the rafters?"

The other guys looked up to where he pointed and Connie shrugged.

"That's Kit. He's… our bodyguard, I guess. That's what he gets paid for anyway, but he almost never leaves the theatre." She shrugged again, "Well, the other girls said he's due for another side trip again- apparently he took one just before I got here…"

She prattled on, but he ignored her, his eyes sticking to the figure until he found Steve seated next to him and the lights dimming just as the curtain rose.

He lost sight of the figure, but he could swear that he felt a pair of eyes burrowing into him as the night wore on.


Kit didn't care much for the show that night- no, he had seen it rehearsed for weeks before, not to mention the first showing last night.

Instead, he paid attention to the man who had spotted him, pointing him out to his friends.

He had already scanned the crowd and disregarded almost everyone from being any sort of threat, though he did note two soldiers he had serviced a week back.

They had been pretty boring, but he had needed cash bad- still did, if he was honest. It was getting to be difficult to find good work since 'Captain America' had rescued a shit ton of soldiers- most of which had been either English or American and had flooded London for work until they got everything settled.

But he was sure he would get a call soon- his skillset was highly sought after, and almost no one could make a problem disappear as well as he could.

He readjusted the snug hat that covered up his hair and buttoned his jacket before scaling higher into the rafters, his eyes not straying from the soldier that had turned to focus on the stage where the girls were parading themselves for their entertainment.

Karina was in the middle of her solo by the sound of it and his keen hearing could pick up the thumping of her dress boots as she high kicked to the drum beat.

He was a handsome man, dark haired with eyes that Kit was almost sure were blue or grey. Slightly taller than the average man, though not quite as tall as the man next to him- Kit's eyes narrowed.

He had seen the picture the new girl kept in her dressing room of her and several other dancers standing next to the now famous Captain America.

Same height, same coloring… Kit was willing to bet that he was the man that the papers heralded every week.

He disregarded the man in favor of the brunet, his hand clenching into a fist in annoyance.

There were too many men here to get a scent of him specifically, even if he neared him any further. He knelt down and braced his hand against the steel bar he was balanced on.

He could always follow the men after the show- no one ever really cared about him until two in the morning when the theatre officially closed, when all the girls would be long gone- all of them too intimidated by his presence to want to be walked home.

Well, except Irina- but the russian dancer had been flirting with him for two weeks and he knew without a doubt that she wasn't due to actually proposition him for another three days- when her husband went back into the field.

He blew out a breath.

Kit had yet to give into her wiles yet- her husband was a hulk of a man with an overwhelming strength behind him.

He should know, the man had been a paying customer of his every monday, wednesday, and friday night.

He bit back a smirk at the outrage the would stir if Wilhelm Kasparov was caught with him, a cheap prostitute.

But nevertheless, he regained his composure and kept his eyes trained on the soldier until the curtains finally fell and he sunk back into the shadows, slinging down the rafters to land on light feet at the back of the room.

He waited for the audience to depart, taking care to go unnoticed until oddly enough, only the soldier and his friends were left.

The new girl- what was her name? Corinne? Connie?- came back into the auditorium sans costume fifteen minutes later, a few of the other dancers inviting them all out to drinks.

The soldiers smiled and followed them out. The brunet and his blond companion were the last to depart, the blond's brows furrowed with what Kit thought was slight concern. The soldier gave a low laugh, his pose somewhat tense as he clapped the blond on the shoulder as they left.

"Mori!"

Kit stepped out of the shadows and walked up the aisle to the side door that led him to his boss' office.

Albert Wilmud was a greying man in his early sixties, though how he had lived this long was a mystery to him- the man was an annoying prick that Kit wanted to gut after every meeting with him.

He fused his expression into placidity as he entered the small office which was overrun with furry and glittering props.

Wilmud was smoking his pipe in the chair behind the desk and seemed blissfully content to merely wave him off after handing him an envelope with his pay.

"Go out, have fun, do whatever the fuck you want. Show reopens on saturday." Wilmud waved off, counting the money from the tills like some mad sort of caricature.

Kit seized the envelope and slid out with a sigh of contentment that the man was in a good mood.

It was rare, but occasionally the man's greed was fulfilled and Kit would be blessed with a night of relative peace.

He ghosted back stage and seized his bag and slid out the back door.

He walked round to the front of the theatre and began the walk to the bar he kept his loft above, foregoing tracking the men for a solitary evening.

His apartment was six blocks in the opposite direction from the theatre, but he had been putting off tidying the loft for two weeks now.

He walked on silently for a few minutes till the sound of drunken singing reached his ears and he knew he was getting closer.

He peeled of the hat and pulled his jacket's hood up to enshroud his features in shadow to hopefully go unnoticed.

He was only this discreet because tonight he didn't particularly feel like whoring himself out.

He had gotten more business recently because the men he had serviced were spreading word of him about.

Nice, but at the same time annoying because god dammit, just because he was a whore did not mean he was willing to put up with drunken man handling every single night.

No, he was taking the night off.

He went around back and took the back door in, climbing the stairs to the third floor where the scent of booze and puke failed to reach.

He stopped before his door, unlocking it before entering and locking up tight.

His bag was promptly tossed into one of the kitchenette cupboards and he pulled out a bottle of scotch from the bread box to nurse as he cleaned.

Music softly played up to his ear when he opened the windows, followed by jolly drunken singing.

Kit grinned gently for a moment, a rare contentment filling him as he organized the space.

It was not to last however, as a few hours later when the bar was running last call he could pick up the sound of booted feet pounding up the stairs and into the hall.

A knock came at the door and he could hear three heartbeats as he threw down a rag to answer.

He drew in a breath before unlocking the door and swinging it open to reveal a familiar face accompanied by two unknowns.

"Not tonight, Anders." He drawled and the shorter man pouted.

The men behind Anders laughed and Anders blushed.

"C'mon, Kitty. Why not?"

"Because I still have coin to my name."

Anders turned beet red but Kit didn't expect him to retaliate- it wasn't his style.

Kit crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe as laughter came pouring into the hall from the staircase as a collection of men came trickling onto the third floor.

Probably too wasted to walk all the way back to the base across town, he assumed.

He drew in a breath and his eyes suddenly flew to the entrance to the hall as an addicting scent called to him, drawing closer and closer till he could spot a familiar pair of men drifting up the stairs.

The blond and brunet soldiers followed by their far drunker friends tripped into the hall.

One of the men tripped on the last stair and face planted into the dusty runner and his friends laughed at his grumbling before helping him up.

He spoke in french to a tanned man- italian, maybe?- and the man laughed before clapping him on the back.

The blond and brunet were talking in hushed tones as they drew closer.

Kit caught the fist that came flying upwards to his face as he turned back to his would-be-guests.

With a flick of his wrist a crack broke through the air and a scream pierced the small space, startling everyone to a still.


Bucky and Steve froze at the high pitched whine that broke the air and immediately glanced at the end of the hall where four men were gathered.

Bucky blinked at the figure in the doorway, utterly captivated by the man's… well, to be frank, his beauty.

He had never seen a man as attention grabbing as the one that stood two yards away from him.

The man was tall, easily the same height as Bucky- maybe a few inches shorter than Steve if he had to guess- with a lithe build, his figure dressed in sleep pants and a thin short sleeved shirt, showing off what was clearly all muscle.

His face was astonishing to look at- delicate bone structure framed by choppy white hair and narrow eyes that he had trouble defining as light flooded the hall from behind his back, casting an illuminating glow like a halo around his unimpressed features.

"Baka. I never took you for a brute, Anders. I'm disappointed."

The smaller man in front of him was gripping his arm protectively against his chest, his features contorted in pain. The men behind him seemed to be shocked still.

The white haired man focused on one of the men and cocked a brow.

"Shops closed tonight boys, maybe some other time?"

The two taller men, haphazardly dressed in canadian uniforms, appeared to swallow and nod and turned tail, dragging the smaller whimpering soldier away.

The figure watched them go until they passed the Commandos. He cocked his head at an angle as he turned his attention to them as if daring them to say something.

His gaze wore on Bucky and he knew without a doubt that this was the man from the theatre.

Bucky relaxed after a moment of feeling the male's gaze travel over him and he felt like he was being appraised like a peasant before his king.

He glanced at Steve who seemed to relax after releasing a breath and speaking up.

"Problems tonight?"

The figure snorted, "Not as much as usual."

The male cocked his head to the side and pointed to the two doors on his right.

"Allen send you up?"

Steve nodded, "Yeah."

The men behind them were muttering and Bucky could hear Falsworth hushing them.

"All the rooms are a mess except for those two. The landlord fired the maids three weeks ago."

He turned his back on them for a moment and a tinkering was heard until he turned to face them again, tossing two keys at Steve, the supersoldier catching them with ease.

"Well then, don't let the bedbugs bite."

He spoke calmly, his eyes once again drifting over the two of them as he inhaled before turning away and shutting his door, the lock resounding like a gunshot in the quiet early morning as they were wrapped in the soft light of the hall once more.


A few hours later found he and Steve the first to wake up.

Bucky pulled on his jacket and ghosted around the sleeping soldiers on the floors and couches, waving to Steve before he slid out of the small apartment.

He shut the door quietly just as another opened- the man from the night before wrapped up tight in a leather coat and a dark blue beanie.

The man locked his door. "Wonderful morning, isn't it?"

"What?" Bucky smartly replied.

The man turned to look at him and the Sergeant was surprised to get a better look at him.

He was almost exactly his height and he blinked a little in shock at the Japanese man.

"You're a jap?"

The man rolled his eyes, "I was born in Japan, yes."

"Uh," Bucky hummed and the man rolled his eyes again.

They were an icy blue and the american was surprised as he took note of the color.

"I've never seen a jap with your coloring."

The man ignored that, "Name?"

"Uh," He muttered in reply before catching on, "Sorry, I'm Bucky. Barnes, I mean. Uh, Bucky Barnes."

Dear God, strike him dead now.

He now knew what Steve felt like when he met a pretty girl.

The man held out his hand and Bucky shook it.

"Kit Mori."

Kit released his hand and began walking down the hall and Bucky struggled to keep pace with him, his mind clearly not awake enough.

"Do you know where I can find food this early?"

They trotted down the stairs and Kit shrugged, "There's a decent diner that's managed to stay open on the corner."

"Can you point me in that direction?"

Kit rolled his eyes, "Sure."

They exited the building and swung around front and Bucky narrowed his eyes in the early morning light with a hiss.

"Drink too much?"

He shook himself with a light laugh, "I guess."

Kit's lips quirked into a small smile at his expense.

They walked silently for a few moments before he blurted out what he had been thinking.

"You were at the theatre."

Kit cocked a brow at him before turning away and nodding, "I work there. For now, anyway."

"You were in the rafters."

"Yes, and?"

Bucky shrugged, "I've never known anyone to be able to balance that well is all."

Kit shrugged in a reply of his own, "It's a gift of sorts, I suppose."

He was thrown back to the night before, thinking back on the three men.

"Who were those men at your door?" Bucky asked and Kit waved it off.

"Anders forgot it was my night off and seemed to think I should cater to his needs." Kit laughed, "He doesn't pay me enough to get everything he wants."

Bucky quirked a brow, "And what exactly do you do?"

Kit appeared to tense before releasing a sigh, "A lot of things. At the theatre I'm paid to keep order, though it's getting to be boring. I do whatever pays though. I'm going to get my orders today and hopefully I won't have to cater to Anders needs for a while if it all works out."

Bucky nodded and they stopped at a small hole in the wall restaurant. Kit knocked on the door before entering, Bucky sliding in after as the smell of bacon wafted in the morning air.

"Kitty!"

Three voices had squealed their way down stairs as two children and a teenager bolted down to greet them from behind the bar.

Kit had rolled his eyes at the name but nevertheless knelt down to hug the happy twin boys and their older sister.

"Eric! Phil! Melody! Go help your father set up!" A middle aged woman chided as she slid out from the bar to greet them.

The kids groaned and grumbled but did as they were told, waving goodbye as they went.

Kit chuckled and hugged the woman, "Morning, Maddie. I brought you a customer."

The woman, Maddie, smiled and stepped out of his hold, greeting Bucky with another warm hug.

"Good morning, young man. What can I do for you?"

Bucky blushed faintly and she told them to sit at the bar.

"Morning, what do you recommend?"

She grinned, "Anything but the crepes. Never the crepes."

Kit glanced at him from the corner of his eyes and gave a thoughtful nod, "Listen to that advice. I didn't and I was sick for three days."

He grumbled under his breath, "Never letting Vinny trick me into trying out his new recipes ever again…"

Bucky laughed and Maddie disappeared behind the kitchen door and came back with two menus and an envelope for Kit.

"Ava dropped this off for you last night."

Kit accepted it with a hum but didn't open it until he had already been served his coffee, downing it within a minute and holding it out for a second before ripping the manilla envelope open.

Inside was nondescript file folder and he flicked it partially open, covering just enough so that Bucky couldn't spy it fully.

Bucky took that as his sign to read the menu and ordered.

Maddie hummed at Kit and he waved her off, "The usual."

"Why do I even hand you a menu?" She muttered as she left and Kit smiled slightly.

He closed the folder and sipped his second coffee.

"So… how long are you all in London?"

"Two weeks. Just until we get our next orders. We just got back yesterday morning."

Kit nodded, "That'll be good."

He patted the folder, "I'll be gone for a few days but we should grab a drink when I get back."

Bucky nodded and Maddie came back with their order.

A few minutes after they had begun eating the diner opened in full and others began to file in from the streets- Steve being one of them.

His best friend was followed by a few of the others and soon the bar was taken up by them all, Kit being the only unfamiliar with the others.

Kit had gone silent when the others sat down, but the rest were still quiet, most of them hungover and guzzling coffee and shoveling greasy food down their throats at an alarming rate.

The teenaged girl had snuck out of the back and found her way beside Kit at the bar, stealing a stool from behind the bar to harass the white haired adult male.

She had dragged out a textbook as well and as the other men became cognizant Kit began to tutor her quietly.

Steve struck up conversation with him and by the time he glanced back at the other man he was looking up at the ceiling like he was praying for added patience as the girl smirked at him.

"Kitty…" She drawled and just as she was beginning to speak again, her mother yelled for her from the back.

Kit began to grumble beneath his breath- probably threats, Bucky guessed. He had his share of trying experiences with his younger sister.

He wondered how Becca was doing. It was time to write her another letter…

Gabe was giggling quietly beside Steve and Kit looked at him with narrowed eyes, triggering the man to break out into heavy laughter. Dernier rolled his eyes when Gabe translated his own humor and Morita looked at Kit with something akin to apology.

Kit waved it off and picked up his file, sliding it under his arm and tossing down the money for his meal before standing up.

"Leaving?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, I need to prepare for a job." Kit sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

He glanced at Bucky, "Maddie can give you my information, I have to get going."

Bucky nodded and he left, leaving Bucky to glance back at Steve who was looking at

him with a cocked brow.

"What?"

Steve rolled his eyes, "I thought you had sworn off men years ago, that's all."

Bucky waved him off.

He wasn't wrong.

Bucky hadn't dated another guy since tenth grade- the last time had been a particularly bad thing to get into so he had sworn off getting into it with another guy again.

But that really wasn't saying much as he had dated only two guys before that. It wasn't accepted, after all. Only Steve knew he had been in a relationship with another guy, and his best friend hadn't judged him for it, thankfully.

Sure, he dated around back home with girls, but none of those lasted more than a month or two at most. The girls were fun, yeah- but they all looked down their noses at Steve, so they hadn't lasted.

To be fair, he hadn't wanted to sign up for more than a good time either.

Kit was interesting though- he had never seen someone who looked like him, his features were completely alien to him, but they were certainly welcome.

There was something about him beyond that though- he couldn't figure out what it was. He would have penned it down to the male's commanding presence, but he could just as easily go unnoticed if he didn't speak up.

And he didn't notice it until he left- but the scent of him still clung to the air- warm and heady and something about it was endearing almost.

He pushed the thoughts aside, delving into the jokes the other men were spewing machine gun-fast.