Down Boy

Chapter One:

Are You Stalking Me?

Darcy would not cry.

She would not cry.

She was not a crier… however, today there was a real possibility for it and that was embarrassing. Sighing as the warm breeze picked up her hair, she pushed off the swing she had been sitting on and walked out of the sand pit. She had been back in New York for two days, two very long and painful days, and she was ready to lose it on Jane. Not that it was in any way the other woman's fault. It's just that Darcy was hurting. Her last remaining family member had passed away.

Nana Lewis was no more.

Darcy knew Jane was just trying to make sure she was okay, but still, she was having a hard enough time trying to keep it together; pretending to be fine on top of that was draining her batteries faster then she could charge them.

Stopping at a park bench, she collapsed onto it, her head falling into her hands. She felt utterly defeated. It was lucky for her the park was relatively empty. She cringed as she felt her eyes begin to water. She would not cry…

She would not cry.

Much.

She felt a sob bubbling up her throat and was just about to let it out when something wet and cold touched her hands. Pulling back she came face to snout with a very concerned looking dog. Which was odd, a dog looking concerned, but she knew a God, so anything was possible. Staring at each other, Darcy raised an eyebrow at the quadruped. It jumped up and put its front paws on her knees, getting closer to her before licking her nose.

"Hey Buddy," she said, scratching behind his ear. "Where'd you come from?" It nuzzled its nose into her neck and she mimicked it. Its golden fur was soft and inviting.

"Get down! Get. Down. You punk," ordered a deep masculine voice, she assumed was the owners.

"It's alright, I don't mind," she said, not wanting to get the puppy scolded. Pushing back, she was met with the coldest blue eyes she had ever seen. They made her shiver. The man striding toward her was tall, dark and possibly the most handsome man she had ever seen in her life. He also looked like he could kill her before she finished blinking. Darcy gulped.

"Down boy," said the man gruffly, "you shouldn't be jumping on pretty broads." He took the dog's collar gently and tugged it away from her. The man was scruffy and had long brown hair, his clothing was odd, he dressed like he was 90 and was wearing long sleeves in the summer. It put her on edge.

"What's his name?" Darcy asked awkwardly.

"Buddy," he answered while reaching down and patting the dog's side. Darcy smiled at that. "You must be having a bad day. He's a Therapy dog. He's always running off to help those in distress."

"I was pretty low but I'm feeling much better now thanks to him." Darcy stood to lessen the angle in which she had to look up. Right now the man was towering over her and it was freaking her out. The standing didn't do much though.

"I'm James by the way." He stuck out a hand for her to shake. "But my friends call me Bucky."

"Really?" Darcy snorted as she grasped his hand and gave it a firm shake.

"Yeah." He gave her a challenging smirk and she couldn't decide whether it made him look more or less menacing.

"Okay then Bucky, I'm Darcy." Taking her hand back, she bent down and scratched behind Buddy's ear again. "Well, it was nice to meet you." She straightened up and made a motion to walk away.

"Likewise." Bucky dipped his head. Buddy let out a single bark, so as not to be forgotten and wagged his tail.

"It was nice to meet you too, Buddy."

"Maybe we'll see you around sometime," said Bucky, taking a leash out from his pants pocket and attaching it to Buddy's collar.

"Maybe," Darcy shrugged and turned, walking away. She wasn't sure she wanted to see him again. He seemed like a serial killer who used his cute dog to lure girls to their unsuspecting demise. Yeah, Bucky was probably a Ted Bundy… best to never see him again.

Not that she would.

Darcy stretched out on her blanket and yawned. She was back in Central Park, this time camped out on the grass, reading a book in the sunshine. She was just about to go back to her book when someone dropped down beside her. Looking over, her eyebrows flew up in shock.

"You again!" she exclaimed.

"Me again," Bucky affirmed with a small chuckle. The small smile on his face made him look like less of a psycho killer and made Darcy relax a little.

"Hi Buddy," she cooed and reached over to scratch behind dog's ear.

"Whatcha reading Dollface," Bucky asked, drawing her attention back to him, making himself more comfortable. He stretched out on the blanket and folded his hands behind his head. He was becoming familiar with her very quickly.

"Dollface?"

He shrugged and she rolled her eyes.

"Nothing really," she continued. "Cheating Death by J.D. Ursini. It's predictable and full of cliché's… it's not very good."

"Cliché's like what?" he closed his eyes as the sun shone in them.

"Like the bad guy not dying because the hero is a moron," she huffed in exasperation. "Seriously, just stab the bad guy, like, in the brain or light them on fire or something and watch them burn. Don't just 'kill them' and walk away because if you do they won't die. They will come back and be hideously scarred and angry," she explained, nodding vigorously.

"That does sound like a familiar plot twist," he said rubbing his left arm, unwanted memories flooding his mind.

"That's because it's every villain's story ever."

"…You're pretty passionate about this," he said with a grimace.

"I'm a passionate person," she agreed.

"You know it's just a book right?" He propped himself up on one elbow to look at her.

"Spoken like a person who doesn't read," she countered, waving her book in his face.

"I read." He sounded amused by her jibe.

"The backs of cereal boxes don't count."

"You're a spitfire, you know that?" He reached out and rubbed Buddy's head fondly. The dog's eyes closed and his tongue lolled in ecstasy.

"Eh?" It was her turn to shrug. "It keeps you on your toes. Wouldn't want you to get bored." He chuckled and she smiled at him. Maybe he wasn't a psychopath, he was just scruffy, wore hoodies and a single glove in the summer and had a bad case of the crazy eyes. He wasn't an axe murderer, he was eccentric or at least that's what she told herself.

"Doll, with a dame like you, I don't think that's possible," he said, letting himself down and making himself comfortable once again. Closing his eyes, he relaxed into the comfort of the blanket and the warmth of the sun bearing down on them.

"Aren't you retro?" she teased and he grunted in response. Assuming the conversation was over, Darcy resumed reading her book. An hour of comfortable silence past before he stirred from his cat nap and checked his watch. Swearing, he bid her farewell and left her to her own devices.

He was a weird one.

Nice but weird.

She was sitting on a park bench watching parents push their children on the swings when a familiar dog barked and bound up to her.

"Hey Buddy! Who's a good dog?" she said in a high pitch voice, grabbing the dog's head in her hands and jiggling in back and forth. "Is it you? It's totally you."

"We're making a habit of this," said Bucky, dropping down beside her and making himself comfortable.

"I think you're stalking me," Darcy answered coyly, bringing her hand up and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Excuse me but I have a reason to be here," he said stabbing a finger in Buddy's direction. "You just come and sit here all by your lonesome."

"You talk like my grandpa." She sat back.

"So intelligent and well mannered?" Bucky shot back.

"Sure, we'll go with that." Darcy rolled her eyes, as he leaned back into the bench and flung a careless arm around the back rest. She eyed him warily.

"What?" He smirked.

"Nothing," she sighed, settling in and watching Bucky pull a ball out of a pocket. An easy silence fell between them as Bucky tossed the ball for Buddy to fetch.

"So what's your excuse?" he said breaking the silence.

"Huh?"

"For being out here?" he clarified.

"Oh…" she trailed off.

"If I've over stepped-"

"No, no," she said quickly cutting him off. "It's just, I'm hiding, well, avoiding someone. I love her but she's smothering me right now."

"She's never been like this before?" he asked.

"No… My Nana passed away a week and a bit ago." Looking away, Darcy bit her lip, not wanting to see the pity in his eyes.

"I'm sorry." The arm he had slung over the park bench came up and its hand squeezed her shoulder.

"She was all I had left," she shrugged, still not looking at him, "so Jane's trying to make up for it."

"Sounds like a good friend," stated Bucky earnestly.

"She is."

Another bout of silence fell upon them, though this one wasn't nearly so comfortable. Darcy squirmed as she watched Buddy run around with the ball in his mouth, mutely searching for a way to change the subject.

"So you can totally tell me to take a hike, but, tit for tat you know," she said, turning to him, deciding to satisfy her curiosity once and for all.

"Ask away," he tilted his head down so he could look at her over the top of his sunglasses. His piercing blue eyes looking much softer than normal.

"What's with the glove, you trying to emulate Michael Jackson or something?" she asked with a wink.

"I don't know who that is, but no," he looked confused and apprehensive all at the same time.

"You don't… okay…" Darcy's mouth hung open at that statement. Who didn't know who the king of pop was? Where had he been living his entire life? Under a rock? When he didn't answer her, Darcy began to feel awkward.

"Sorry, forget I asked," she back peddled, wanting to give him an out.

"It's an old army injury… it ain't pretty," he sighed, frowning and looking away from her. Darcy felt something chip away at her heart watching him in that moment. Without thinking she reached across him and grabbed his left hand. Taking it in both of hers she squeezed it. It was as unlike a human hand as Darcy had ever felt. It was as hard as steel and there was no familiar give of flesh but still she did not let go.

"I don't know what happened but you shouldn't ever be ashamed of that," she said matter-of-factly. When he turned to look at her with an unreadable expression on his face, Darcy smiled brightly at him. Scooting closer, she bumped her shoulder into his ribs and moved back. He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by a slobbery ball being dropped into his lap.

"Hey Buddy, back from exploring?" He reached for the dog and ruffled his fur.

"Anyway, I should go, Jane's probably forgotten to feed herself again," said Darcy, standing and stretching, her arms above her head.

"I'll see you around, kid," Bucky stood and pulled Buddy's leash from his pocket.

"Anything's possible," Darcy called back over her shoulder, a small smile gracing her features as she walked away. Knowing he had been in the army and had been in an accident explained the long sleeves, glove and killer façade… he wasn't so intimidating anymore. He wasn't trying to be scary, he was just broken and needed a little mending. She really hoped he would be able to fix himself as much as possible and that he could get back to whoever he was before the accident.

Bucky sat on the front steps to Steve's apartment with Buddy laying between his legs, not ready to go inside yet. He idly stroked the dog's head as he replayed the conversation he'd had with Darcy over in his mind. She had touched his metal hand. Granted she hadn't known what it was at the time, but still, she had touched it without fear. Not even Steve did that, Steve could barely even look at his arm without guilt bleeding into his expression. Bucky sighed and clenched his hand into a fist. He didn't want to think of Steve's guilt right now. He wanted to remember the casualty of Darcy's touch. He wanted to pretend he was normal just a little longer. He liked this feeling. He liked Darcy. She made him feel human and that was a feeling he missed dearly.

A.N: Thank you to all the Tumblr people who helped me make decisions for this story. Friend me on Tumblr and Twitter if you want to keep up with me! Check out my profile to find out more about me.