Day 2

Bucky woke up that next day with a spring in his step and a grin on his face. He had found an amazing Italian bistro the night before and stuffed himself on rigatoni and chicken picatta, saving just enough room for an orange and a peppermint stick before bed.

His sleep had been dreamless, the best kind. No thrashing in his bed, no waking up in a cold sweat panting so hard he could barely breathe. Just the sweet restful blankness that comes with a truly deep sleep.

His arm twitched a bit as he pulled on his pants and shirt and he scowled as he looked down at it. He probably had a couple dozen Hydra technicians poking and prodding it over the decades, each one trying to add to or modify his arm, trying to prove their worth to their leaders by improving on past designs. It had ended up as a hodgepodge of different technologies over the years and it was no wonder when one of the mechanisms began to fail. Before the fall of Hydra, Bucky estimated that he'd only used the arm for three or four months total. They'd wake him up, put him on assignment for a week or so, and then stick him back into cryosleep until his next mission.

But, it had been eight months since they last wiped his memories and tinkered with his arm. Eight months of constant use and his arm was failing. There were uncontrollable tremors and glitches and while Bucky had tried to hide it at first from Sam and Steve, it got to the point where it was obvious to everyone that his arm was malfunctioning more and more. There was no way Bucky could out on a mission until it was repaired. Tony had looked at it briefly before getting called back to California to help Pepper fight a hostile takeover of their company. He assured Bucky it would only be a short delay until he could return to finish up with Bucky's arm.

Which left Bucky stuck at the Tower, a few weeks away from Christmas, with nothing really to do. Clint had offered to teach him the bow and arrow, but more than once his arm spasmed during the lesson, sending the arrow wide of the target. Clint had been more than understanding, but Bucky cut their time short, mumbling something about attending a therapy session, not in the mood to keep up the charade of learning the bow and arrow when he couldn't even keep his own hand straight.

After a quick bowl of oatmeal and brown sugar and a good half pot of black coffee, Bucky decided to head over to the lab to see what Bruce was up to. He genuinely liked the mild-mannered scientist and they'd bonded over the fact that they both knew what it was like to have to struggle against a monster inside that took control and wreaked havoc. And while they both had come a long way in managing their alter egos , they were also both haunted by memories of the past and what they had destroyed.

Bucky was whistling tunelessly to himself as he entered the lab, still cheerful as he thought of the gift from the night before. For a moment, he contemplated breaking Tony's rules and trying to find out the identity of his Secret Santa, if only for the opportunity to thank him. He literally couldn't remember the last time he received a Christmas gift and the fact that the person giving it had taken the time and energy to find something that Bucky would truly enjoy made it all the better.

Bucky saw Bruce at the far corner of the lab, huddled together with Thor and Dr. Foster and Miss Lewis, expounding on the properties of the infinity stones. Given the problems that they encountered in Greenwich with Malekith, Thor and Dr. Foster had decided to set up camp at the Avengers Tower and try to suss out why there seemed to be so much activity around the stones all at once after centuries of silence.

Bucky couldn't help but stare at Miss Lewis, Dr. Foster's assistant. He had to admit to himself that he found her to be the most likable inhabitant of the Tower so far. Unlike the others, she didn't treat him with kid gloves, afraid of setting him off or hurting his feelings. When they bantered, it almost made Bucky feel like his old self, before the war, before everything turned sour.

And it didn't hurt a bit that she reminded him of a pin-up girl from the 40s, despite her penchant for oversized sweaters and knit caps.

"Well, if it isn't the infamous Sergeant Barnes," she quipped as he drew near.

"I said you could call me Bucky," he countered, not even bothering to hide his grin.

"Well, then, you'd start calling me Darcy and then people would start getting the wrong idea. Steve told us all the stories, you know. You broke half the hearts in Brooklyn back in the day."

"Just half the hearts?" He waggled his eyebrows for comic effect.

"He was being modest, on your behalf." She grinned at him. "Grab a seat. Save me from all of this egghead talk."

Dr. Foster scowled at her. "Darcy, stop giving Sergeant Barnes a hard time. And don't pretend that you don't know more about this 'egghead' talk than half the physicists in world. You've been right here, by my side, studying the same phenomena that I have for nearly four years. Admit it. You love it."

"Yes, fine, whatever. You've swayed me to the dark side. Hard sciences." Darcy shuddered dramatically. "If my poly sci professors could see me now . . ."

"I am sure that they would be more than proud of you, Darcy. You have proven yourself to have a quick and nimble mind." Thor chuckled. "You are a true asset to this team."

"I should put that quote on my Tinder profile. Maybe finally, someone would swipe right."

"Darcy!" Dr. Foster blushed and while Bucky didn't know exactly what Darcy was referring to, he could tell that Dr. Foster was embarrassed.

"Speaking of science, perhaps we should get back to it?" Bruce suggested, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Bucky settled down in the seat next to Darcy, looking forward to the next few hours.

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While Bucky only understood half of what was talked about that day, he had to admit, he enjoyed himself more than he thought he would as Thor, Dr. Foster, and Bruce wrangled with defining the different properties of the infinity stones. From time to time, Darcy would lean over to explain a term or phrase and her hot breath in his ear would send a shiver down his spine. If he were his old self, he would have asked out a thousand times already.

But, he wasn't his old self and he was still trying to figure who he really was. He wasn't the Bucky from before the war. He'd seen too much. He'd done too much.

But neither was he the Winter Soldier anymore. He was his own man. He just needed to find out what that meant.

They all ate lunch together, Chinese takeout from a local delivery place. Bucky actually enjoyed it, even after Darcy stole his egg roll and stuck her tongue out at him when he protested. They finished up around six and while Bucky's head was swimming from staring at computer simulations all day, he had to admit he enjoyed himself more than he thought possible.

"We're going Christmas shopping," Darcy announced as Dr. Foster started packing up her laptop. "We're going to introduce Thor to a mall Santa and see who knows more Scandinavian myths. Wanna join us?"

Yes. I don't want to be stuck in my apartment all night. Yes. A thousand times yes, Bucky thought.

Only what he said was, "Nah. I'm going to turn in early."

"Your loss, Barnes. You're missing the opportunity to see Thor sitting on Santa's lap. It's going to be my phone screensaver for the rest of my life."

"You'll just have to show it to me tomorrow," he replied.

"You're coming by tomorrow?" Darcy asked and Bucky didn't know if it was his imagination, but she sounded hopeful.

"Sure. Why not? It's good to know what we're up against. And I'm useless without my arm working right."

"You're not useless. Don't you ever say that," Darcy said with a ferocity that caused Bucky's eyes to widen.

"Thanks," he mumbled. "Um . . . have fun shopping."

"We will," Dr. Foster said, taking Thor by the arm and walking towards the door.

"See you tomorrow," Darcy called over her shoulder as she followed the pair towards the door.

Once they'd left, Bucky sat down heavily, mad at himself for blowing his chance to escape his apartment for the night.

"She's a beautiful woman," Bruce observed as he powered down his own laptop.

"Yeah, I suppose." He wasn't about to admit how he felt to Bruce, despite them being friends.

"Do you want some friendly advice?"

"No."

Bruce turned back to him and grinned. "Well, I'm going to give it to you anyhow. Don't shut yourself away from the world. I made that mistake with Betty. I regret it to this day."

"I'm a wreck, Bruce."

"So's everyone you meet. Some of them just hide it better than others," Bruce said as he closed his laptop. "Wanna grab some dinner? There's a diner nearby that serves hamburgers the size of footballs."

Bucky chuckled. "I'd pay to see that."

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Bucky was back at his apartment at eight and his stomach was so full, he was sure that he was going to be sick. He decided that the next time he went to dinner with Bruce he would most definitely not try to win a T-shirt by chowing down on a three pound hamburger. But, on the plus side, he now had a Christmas present for Sam when he came back from his mission.

He almost stepped on his second Christmas gift, a small red envelope next to his door. As he walked into the apartment, he read the inscription on the front. "Play me"

He tore into the envelope and inside was a thumbdrive.

"Um . . . JARVIS . . . did my Secret Santa leave this for me?" The last thing he wanted to do was crash his laptop by introducing a virus into it.

"Yes, sir."

"Could you . . . uh . . . scan it for viruses?"

"Already done, sir. None were found."

Bucky sat down at the kitchen table, turned on his laptop, inserted the USB drive, and opened the file marked Christmas Music.

He clicked on the first song and the room was filled with Bing Crosby singing "White Christmas." And all of a sudden, Bucky was twenty-three again. It was 1941 and it was Christmas and he was with his family and everything that had happened in the past seventy years had just washed away. He closed his eyes, lost in memories.

The next song was "The First Noel" by Eddy Nelson. He grinned as he remembered his mother singing that in church, her clear alto voice filling the sanctuary.

He listened to song after song from the 1930s and 40s, original recordings that he hadn't heard in decades. Each one brought happy memories of his past. As he listened to them, he could practically smell his mother baking spiced cinnamon cookies, his favorite treat at the holidays. He put the songs on repeat and fell asleep to them that night playing softly in the background.

Whoever his Secret Santa was, they knew just what to do to bring Bucky some peace. The songs made him remember a time when he was safe and loved and he couldn't have asked for anything better for the holidays.

Author's Note- Oh my! Your reviews and comments were so amazingly encouraging. I am truly overwhelmed. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I will fully admit that one of my motivations for writing is your enthusiasm and encouragement. You are the best!

By the way, my personal headcanon is that Bucky was kept up to date on all the various technological advances every time he was awakened as the Winter Soldier. You'd hardly want to your assassin to freak out over a microwave, which is why Bucky is comfortable working with a laptop. However, changes in society and popular culture were neglected by his Hydra handlers, which leads to some uncomfortable instances of "culture shock" for Bucky.