Foxx Hunting

by Phantomchajo

((A/N: No, I haven't forgotten about my other stories. Just waiting on one muse to step back and let others have some time.

A wonderful thanks to my friend Lady Moonhawke, who is also my co-writer, co-conspirator, Idea tester, plot hole finder, monkey wrench thrower, and ghost editor.

Italics usually means another language that I'm too lazy to have translated into that language))

Chap 2.

December 31st, New Years Eve at Stark Tower

Furniture had been re-arranged to accommodate the wood dance floor Tony had brought in for the evening's party. A small band was playing swing that had been popular in the 30's and 40's, a few SI staff members acted as waiters while a professional bartender stood ready to mix up anything requested. The landing deck was off limits but the small balcony above it was accessible, not that there were many people willing to brave the winter winds 81 stories above the ground though. The party itself started at 8 in the evening and was planned to last until the last person called it (or until Pepper said it was time for everyone to go home).

All the women were dolled up in the best fashions of the era. Those that were older leaned towards the fashionable floor length evening gowns that fitted at the waist and hugged the hips before flaring out about mid-thigh. It was an even mix between gowns that were backless and those that had the backs. The younger women tended towards the elegant day dresses with the puffy sleeves, belts, large yoke and collars. There were no rules about older and younger women and what they should wear though. Several of the older women wore the metropolitan styles that emphasized their silhouettes just as some of the younger wore evening gowns that did the same. For the party, Pepper wore a grand staircase entry dress. It was a deep hunter green satin and lace, with a sweetheart neckline and cap sleeves, that hugged her body from shoulders to hips before flaring out to brush the floor, creating a small train in the back. And speaking of backs, the dress back was nothing but lace, creating a tantalizing effect that drew the eye of viewer. Not wanting to wear something that would attract too much attention to herself or take attention away from Pepper, Natasha went with a cream and black dress, that had a wide yoked collar and cap sleeves. Unlike Pepper's floor length dress, Natasha's flared out around mid thigh but ended at mid calf. She also wore a simple yet elegant necklace that drew the eyes upwards to her face instead of downwards to her chest.

All the men wore suits of course. Either true vintage or modern replicas, that looked to be taken directly from the late 30's to somewhere in the mid 40's. Tony had somehow found one of his father's old tuxes from the 1943 World Expo, had it cleaned and tailored to fit him. All he would have had to do was shave the goatee and dye his hair its original black to be the spitting image of his father, Howard. Steve was wearing his original officer's uniform, on loan from the Smithsonian, complete with all his medals, ribbons and awards up to the day he crashed the plane into the ice. He looked like any officer who'd just come home on a furlough and was planning on spending the evening with his dame at the local dance hall. Having been able to go either way, military uniform or high class eveningwear, Bucky chose the middle ground. The suit he chose, though still high quality, would have fit in, in a high profile business or a gathering of friends down at the local dance hall.

Before the party even started, Steve took one look at Bucky and shook his head. This was vintage pre-war Bucky, all spiffed up and on the prowl for his next conquest. Bucky even went so far as to have his hair trimmed and was clean shaved. Trying to talk him out of it never worked then and it sure as hell won't work now, not with today's openness. All he could do was ask that Bucky at least respect the wishes of whomever he ended up with for the night and to be careful.

Bucky just gave Steve that smirking grin before sauntering off to prowl through the crowd of partiers looking for his intended target. He spent most of the first hour just observing people as he sipped his drink. He crossed paths with Natasha several times, trading quips, overheard gossip and making observations about various people. He spent most of the second hour on the dance floor, either dancing with women (and a couple of men) or showing them how to do the dances. It's only when the third hour of the party starts that he finally catches the first glimpse of the person he was looking for.

Johnny steps out of the elevator, pausing long enough to survey the area before he makes his way through the partiers towards Pepper and Tony. He was wearing a classic gangster's suit. Midnight black suit with thin white pinstripes, black leather ankle boots shined to a high gloss with white spats and a matching fedora with a silvery-blue satin trim-ribbon. His shirt was a matching silvery-blue color and the tie a solid black, which directed the eyes up to his face. Days prior a special orthopedic shoulder brace had been crafted for him, so his arm wouldn't have to be strapped, just put in a sling (which matched his black pinstripe suit perfectly). When he got closer to Pepper and Tony, he noticed that they were amongst a small group of familiar faces. He couldn't help the tiny smirk that made its way onto his face. "Mr. Stark, this is a pretty swanky party, you're throwing," he said, letting the Romani accent slip out as he did. "The Boss and the rest of the gang will be disappointed they had to miss it. Maybe next time around, you can arrange it so they can attend, yes?" He turned to Pepper, took her hand and brought it up to his lips. "You're looking like the cat's meow tonight."

"Why thank you," Pepper replied with a grin. "I must say you're lookin pretty keen your own self."

"I'll keep it in mind," Tony commented with a grin of his own, before taking a sip of his drink. He turned to the rest of the group, gesturing to Johnny. "Gentlemen, and Ladies, may I present one of our best security consultants and R&D tech testers SI has to offer?"

"He also does amazing work in the forensic accounting field and should be graduating with his Masters from Berkeley this coming June," Pepper added.

A hint of color made its way to Johnny's cheeks as he reached up and tipped his hat. "Only because you two gave me the chance to do so. Ladies, gentlemen, a pleasure to meet you," he said to the gathering. Turning back to Pepper and Tony he made a gesture towards the elevator. "Mr. Snuffleupagus is on guard at the elevator landing. If anyone is stupid enough to attempt to get past him, I refuse to take pity on them for what will happen." He picked up a fluted champagne glass from the offered tray and took a sip. "Hmm... Apple and white grape juice, not bad. Not expected either."

"What about Shep?" Tony asked.

"Terrorizing the floor's roomba population," Johnny replied with a laugh.

"Oh dear, are they going to need to be reprogrammed again?" Pepper asked with a laugh.


Not far away, Bucky joined Steve at the bar, turning around so he could watch Johnny as the fair skinned man chatted with their host. "What can you tell me about him?" he asked as he turned back around to order a drink.

"Who?" Steve asked, turning to look. "Oh.. him….really Buck? You could do a lot better. Besides, aren't you and Romanoff together?"

"What?" Bucky asked back in reply. "Yeah, we're still together. And what do you mean by 'oh him'?"

"Listen Buck. Me and him didn't exactly get along too well when he came to the tower. Too many differences, I didn't agree with his choice of employer, coerced or not and, well, our first meeting was rather.. disastrous. I also made the mistake of going after him instead of rescuing his kid first. I don't think he ever forgave me for that." Steve shook his head at the memory. "Maybe you should ask Romanoff, she knows a lot more about him than anyone else. Or did. Maybe Pepper and Stark know more now. I'd say ask Barton but he's retired and out of reach," he said then took a drink of his beer.

Bucky just huffed as he downed his drink then motioned for a refill. "Can't ask Nat. We're sort of competing," he admits. "And going to either Stark or his dame would be like going to a gal's parents and asking them how to get their girl into bed with ya." He sipped his drink as he continued to watch Johnny.

"You'd know all about that wouldn't ya, ya jerk?" Steve replied with a laugh. "What was their names again? The pair you thought were sisters that turned out to be mother and daughter?"

Bucky shot Steve a look. "Hey, the mother was damned good looking for her age and the daughter wasn't that far behind. It coulda happened to anyone, punk."

"Just keep telling yourself that Buck," Steve said with a smirk. He reached over and clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "All I can say is be careful and good luck competing against Romanoff." He took his bottle of beer and wandered off, leaving friend behind.

"Punk," Bucky muttered once more before he took his drink and wandered about the edges of the room. By the time he got to the dance floor, his glass was empty. After handing it off to one of the wait staff, he picked one of the ladies standing around at the edge of the dance floor and took her out for a few rounds. He continued for the next half hour, changing partners every two to three songs before he stepped off the floor to take a break. Before he could flag down a wait staff, a glass was being offered to him. He nodded in thanks before taking a drink. He pulled the glass away from his mouth, giving it a look. It was fruit juice, not alcohol like he expected. "What the hell?" he asked, earning a laugh from the person that handed him the glass.

"Bet you were expecting something else," Johnny commented with a lopsided grin.

"Yeah, I was," Bucky replied after finishing off the drink. "Seriously. The swanky fly boy's sitting pretty. He's got the dough and he can afford the good hooch so why are you drinking this hooey?"

Johnny just laughed again. "I'm waiting till closer to midnight. Would rather have most of my facilities to keep from having to call it an early night." He shrugged one shouldered. "Less likely to accidently do something to my shoulder. Or that's the theory anyways. Besides, I don't like to share my fireball with too many people." He snagged another glass from a passing staff member then took a sip before nodding to the dance floor. "You're good out there."

"Thanks," Bucky replied. He sat the empty glass down on a proffered tray, then held out his hand. "James Barnes. Friends call me Bucky," he said in way of introduction.

Swapping his glass to his left hand, Johnny accepted the hand and shook. "Johnnathan LeFleaur. Most call me Johnny or Foxx," he replied.

Tilting his head to the side just slightly, he ran Johnny's last name through his head a second time. "French, Canadian or French Canadian descent?" he asked, still holding Johnny's hand. "And why Foxx?"

Johnny shook his head, "American Romani actually, from the Southern Delta area." He pulled his hand back some, quirking an eyebrow in amusement when Bucky didn't let go at first. "My alias," he replied. Considering who most of the people here at the party were with or in some cases who they were, he saw little reason not to say what his was. "Foxx is short for Foxxfyre Gypsy."

Finally letting go, Bucky tucked his hands into his pants pockets. "Gypsy huh?" He remembered hearing a few stories about the Gypsies from the time of his childhood. Mostly warnings about what they'd do to misbehaving children. He noticed the people around them were starting to increase, so he nodded his head towards one of the quieter areas away from the dance floor. "How'd you get mixed up with this crowd?" he asked.

Humming softly, Johnny glanced at his watch, noting the time. Still a little over an hour until midnight. "Wrong place, right time. Or maybe right place and the wrong time. Either way, got mixed in with the wrong crowd and was given another chance." He matched the casual pace Bucky set as they made their way to another area. "How about you?" he asked. He knew the basic story, what was in all the history books and such, but he wasn't interested in that.

"Followed this little fellow from Brooklyn who was too dumb to run away from a fight," Bucky replied with an easy smile. "The punk was always doing stupid shit like getting into fights he couldn't win. Someone had to look out for em. Guess that someone was me."

The pair sat and chatted about this and that, avoiding most work related stories and anything that was considered too personal for a first meeting. Johnny kept an eye on the time while Bucky kept his eyes on Johnny.

With one last look at his watch, Johnny stood up. "If you'd like to continue this, meet me out on the deck with a tumbler of ice," he said.

Bucky stood up as well, slightly concerned that he might have scared Johnny away with his staring. "Where're you going?"

"To get my coat and some fireball. Can't celebrate New Year's without a drink, now can you?" he tossed over his shoulder with a grin.

With almost twenty minutes to go till midnight, Johnny stepped out onto the party deck's balcony with his coat on, a full tumbler of Fireball whiskey and the bottle in hand. He was hoping he hadn't read things the wrong way with Bucky. Especially considering all the stories Nat told while giving him massages, of how well they worked together both professionally and personally. He wasn't disappointed when Bucky waved at him from further along the balcony, out of direct sight of most everyone inside. "I see I wasn't wrong," he commented as he joined Bucky who was leaning against the railing. He held out his tumbler, "Hold please."

Bucky straightened up, taking the offered tumbler as he did. With a raised eyebrow, he watched Johnny work the cap off the bottle and pour. He brought the now full tumbler up to his mouth, sniffing it once before taking a sip. The taste of sweet cinnamon flooded across his tongue followed by rolling warmth. "Not bad," he said after taking another sip.

"'Not bad' he says, hhmmf… just like Tony. Can't appreciate good flavors," Johnny muttered as he took a sip, letting out a sigh of pleasure.

Bucky just laughed as he leaned against the railing once more, looking out over the city when he wasn't watching Johnny that is.

"Nat ever tell you how I managed to get the golden boy scout pissed off enough he bitched out the entire team?" Johnny asked with a grin as he took another sip. The bottle was sitting on the ground near his feet, the lid only loosely closed for easy opening when he wanted a refill.

"No. She's never said anything about you at all before we had to pull your ass out of whatever trouble you'd gotten into," Bucky replied, finding the taste of the drink to be acceptable enough to have more of it.

"For which me, my ass and my family are ever grateful for by the way," Johnny said, saluting with his glass before he finished it off and went for a refill. "Clint and Nat had finally decided to test my proficiency with firearms. We discovered some of my problems so they, or rather Clint, decided to have some fun." He pointed down to the landing pad below them. "Gave me back my slingshot and had me take potshots at everyone who could fly. Iron Man, War Machine, Falcon….I think I even sent a few Nat and Clint's way… anyway, after it's all said and done, we're lined up like a bunch of delinquents and he's pacing back and forth doing his 'Stern Disapproval' act… you've seen him do that haven't you?"

"Yeah, quite a few times. But his 'I'm sad that you've disappointed me' look is even worse let me tell you," Bucky answered back taking a moment to refill his own glass. "Makes you just want to drop to your knees and beg forgiveness from him." He shook his head with a laugh.

"Didn't help we were all snarking him," Johnny said. "Umm.. sassing back," he explained at the questioning look.

"No wonder he didn't like you too much."

"Naaa…. it was what I did to him when I first came to the tower." Johnny finished off his second glass, then glanced at his watch. "And the fact that I had been working for HYDRA for close to a year prior to that," he added. 'That could be the make or break sentence of the evening right there,' he thought to himself.

Bucky tensed at the word 'HYDRA'. "Were you working for them willingly?" he asked softly.

"Nope. Only reason I was there was to get a girl out at her father's request. Ended up staying after Alexei was born in order to protect him," Johnny answered.

Bucky thought it over for several moments before nodding his head. "So what did you do to the punk?" he finally asked.

Johnny glanced around, then moved so his back was to the small section of wall, then motioned for Bucky to move closer. He set his glass in the planter next to him for the moment. "Call me paranoid, but I'd rather not do this with my back to open air. Even if it's only a story or so below us, the landing deck is hard." The wall behind him would hurt like hell if Bucky took it wrong, but better than possibly falling to his death. "Now, put your hands on my upper arms and get in close."

"Like this?"

"Ummhmmm…"

"So what did yo-" Bucky started to ask but was silenced when lips crashed into his and a hand groped him hard enough to catch and hold his attention. His grip tightened, causing Johnny to gasp slightly as his left shoulder protested. He took advantage of that gasp, shifting so he was pressed in close. With his left hand and arm now bracing him somewhat against the wall, he slid his right onto Johnny's hip, pressing into the hand at his groin. He mumbled an apology when he came up for air.

From inside, cheers went up as the countdown reached midnight on the clock. Auld Lang Syne was being sung by the party goers as New Years kisses were exchanged. Neither of the men were paying much attention to the goings on inside, too caught up in the moment outside, to notice Natasha standing at the window, looking down at them with a smirk. She lifted her glass in a salute, seeing how Bucky won this round of their game.