CHAPTER 3- Apples and Cinnamon

Bucky POV

Bucky wasn't quite sure why he had come back to the tiny bar 2 nights in a row. After what had happened at SHIELD headquarters his plan to constantly keep moving and re-learning who he was meant that he almost never returned to the same place twice. He didn't even like drinking that much, but bars let him stay warm and dry longer because they closed later. Sleeping wherever he could was beginning to wear him out, so he ordered one drink and made it last the whole night. However, the night before had thrown him for a loop.

Bucky was doing his nightly routine, sitting at a dirty table with a glass in front of him and his backpack in-between his legs, keeping his head down and his senses alert. The patrons of the bar left him alone, seeming to understand he didn't want to talk. He focused on the flickering of the light from the lantern on the tabletop and let the fractured memories overwhelm his mind. Split second images of people he used to know like Steve, his friends from the war, and even his own mother flickered through his brain before he could catch them and examine them, like he was trying to catch snowflakes and see them before them melted. It was an incredibly frustrating process that Bucky was determined to repeat until it worked. Time must have passed without his knowledge, because the next time he lifted his eyes, he was almost alone in the bar.

Bucky noted a commotion from the corner of his eye and subtly shifted his attention to the source. It was the petite bartender that had been there the whole time and an old guy that practically reeked of a pedophile. He was saying something to her and had his hands around the woman's tiny waist in a way that made him cringe inwardly. Bucky was debating whether or not to get up and help when the woman made the decision for him. She swiftly escaped with an elbow to the old man's gut and a stomp on his foot. Bucky watched her fight, impressed with her skill. It was clear from her poise and confidence she had some previous fighting experience. When the man broke a bottle over her arm, his metal hand involuntarily clenched at the painful noise she made and he watched the blood drip down her arm with fascinated horror. Instead of giving up like he expected her, an intense determined look came over the woman's face and she easily knocked the creep out with two more punches.

Bucky stood impulsively, his posture tense and immobile as he watched the woman try to move the body. He was fighting with himself, try to decide if it was safe to help her. Suddenly her quiet voice broke the silence. "You should probably go home." He just looked for a moment before blurting out the first thing that came into his head. "You're bleeding." An unimportant part of his brain noticed that she was one of the first people he had spoken to in a month, but he was broken out of thoughts when the woman collapsed, probably from lack of adrenaline and loss of blood. The sight of her on the floor broke him out of his stupor and he started towards her. Approaching cautiously, he took in her wild blonde curls and the freckles that covered her nose. The iron tang of blood in the air alerted him to the current issue and he grasped her injured arm carefully. There were still glass pieces in her arm and instinctively he extracted the tiny tweezers from first aid kit he carried around in his backpack. There had been several missions in the past where he had been required to perform first aid on himself, and he had taken to carrying around supplies in case of a reoccurrence.

Pulling the glass from the woman's arm didn't take much time, which was a blessing for both of them. Being awake for the process would have been ten times more painful, and Bucky couldn't take the risk of her panicking and having to subdue her. While he was finishing wrapping her arm with a bandage, the creep started to shift and moan behind him. Bucky taped the bandage down and gently wiped the sweat off the woman's face with the back of his human hand, then turned and picked the man up by his throat with his metal one.

"You think it's fun to harass women?" His voice was low and emotionless, but there was an aura of danger dripping from every syllable. The man struggled in vain, his face turning purple with exertion. He finally managed to gasp out, "Why do you care?" Bucky's lips pulled into a scowl and without letting the man go, reached down, grabbed his bag and carried the man towards the back alleyway. He threw him down on the street and leaned down to speak quietly. "If I ever see you step foot in here again, I will make sure that it is the last thing you do. I would go far away if I were you." Judging from the man's wide eyes and shaking hands that were massaging his throat, he seemed to get the point. He shuffled backward, and then turned and ran. Bucky returned to the bar, where the woman was still passed out on the ground, and carefully rearranged her body so she was a bit more comfortable. He had left the bar with the intention of never returning, but the whole next day his mind kept flashing back to the woman he had left lying on the dirty floor. There was something about her face when she was fighting that had captured his interest. He returned to the bar the next night while trying to convince himself that it was simply to make sure the man didn't return and bother the bartender again.

That was why he found himself staring at the leather gloves that encased his hands, clenching the dirty tumbler of whisky in front of him as he sat at the same table in the same bar for the second night in a row. A throat clearing made him look up at he found himself face to face with the bartender, who was considerably less bloody than the first time that he saw her. He belatedly realized that she was saying something to him and he tuned in right as she said, "My name is Laurel." She stuck her hand out and Bucky involuntarily tensed, his mind immediately running through the ways that he could neutralize her before remembering that she wasn't an enemy. He stuck his hand out and replied, "My name is Buc- James. James Barnes." He spontaneously decided not to use his nickname, feeling like it wasn't the right choice. Laurel must not have noticed the hesitation in his introduction and if she did she gave no indication of it. "Hi James," she smiled at him and then said, "I have to go back to work but I would love if you stayed until I was done. I'd like to talk to you some more."

She didn't wait for him to confirm or deny her request, but simply turned on her heel and walked back to her position at the bar. He didn't even really make a conscious choice either way, but as the evening wore on, he felt no need to leave, and eventually he was the last one in the bar, watching as she moved around at an amazingly fast speed. She was cleaning with the ease and specific routine of someone who had been doing the same thing for years, almost without thinking about it. He just sat and watched, and eventually Laurel came and sat down across the table from him, throwing her canvas shoe clad feet up on the chair next to her, sighing deeply and rolling her shoulders.

"My feet are killing me. Serves me right for not getting good shoes," she examined her feet critically.

Bucky didn't quite know how to respond, so he settled for just nodding. They sat in uncomfortable silence for a while until her stomach growled and broke the silence. She blushed when Bucky shot her a quizzical glance and said, "I haven't eaten since Thursday."

Bucky frowned at that. She needed to eat if she was still recovering from her injuries, and her clothes looked like they were swallowing her up. "You need to eat. Especially after last night."

Her brown eyes narrowed at him and then she nodded and stood. "Let's go then."

"Go where exactly?" Even as he asked that, he was standing up and pulling his backpack onto his shoulders.

"To eat," she smiled and walked over to the bar to retrieve a phone and a set of keys from underneath. Bucky scoffed inwardly at the sight of a small Captain America's shield keychain dangling from her keys. They walked out of the bar and Laurel locked the door while Bucky kept an eye on the street. It was almost 3 am and the streets were deserted, dimly illuminated by the street lamps. Bucky's guard immediately went up and his shoulders tensed. His hand slid into his pocket and fingered his handgun. Laurel didn't seem to notice, and after glancing over her shoulder to make sure he was following her, started down the street towards the 24 hour diner that was down the block. The neon sign was partially out and the window was dingy. Bucky was noting the building and calculating escape routes in case of an emergency when Laurel started talking.

"I know that it doesn't look like much, but their burgers and waffle fries are awesome." She pushed the door open and the bell that hung above it tinkled. There were 2 people in the restaurant, a cook and a waitress. They both greeted Laurel warmly and Bucky watched with some interest as they interacted.

"What do you want to eat?"

Bucky had no idea, so he just replied, "Whatever you're having is fine."

Laurel smiled and then turned to the waitress. "Mary, could we have two bacon cheeseburgers and a basket of fries to share please? And two slices of pie for dessert. Thank you."

She led him over to a booth and sat down. Luckily she had taken the seat with her back to the door so Bucky didn't have to ask her to switch. He slid into the seat cautiously and stared at the girl sitting across from him. He was still trying to access who she was. He did not feel threatened by her, but he wasn't sure about anything else. It was one of the first times he wasn't able to assess a person's character just by looking at them, and that was both frustrating and intriguing. Unknowns were something that the Asset did not handle well, but there was no present threat to his life, as far as he could tell, so he remained.

The waitress Mary came back with 3 steaming baskets on a tray. She set the burger down in front of Bucky and said, "Here you go handsome," with a smile. He didn't even acknowledge her, his attention focused on the steaming burger that was sitting in front of him. It was one of the first hot meals that he had in the last few years, mostly surviving off of lukewarm foods from a can. The smell was making his mouth water like crazy and his fingers twitched.

"It's not poisoned you know," Laurel's voice broke through his stupor and he glanced up to see a small smile on her face. He tried to reciprocate with his own, but it had been too long so he settled on shrugging and taking a bite of the food. The tastes trickled over his tongue and he sighed. Laurel chuckled and she also bit into her burger, chewing a lot slower than Bucky was. Bucky barely took a breath in between bites. Laurel pushed the basket of fries towards him and he took one, savoring the salty taste and the texture before shoving 3 more in his mouth at the same time. He polished off the fries in what felt like a few seconds. Laurel wordlessly pushed her partially eaten burger towards Bucky and he grabbed it without thinking, eating the second burger without any comment. It wasn't until he had finally swallowed the last bite that he realized she had just given him her first meal since Thursday, and an overwhelming sense of guilt overtook him.

"I'm sorry." He shrugged his shoulders awkwardly, trying to work through the guilt.

She smiled at him, "For what? Being hungry? You don't need to feel guilty for that." She laid her hand on the table, like she was going to grab her hand but had changed her mind at the last minute. Bucky relaxed, but still frowned and opened his mouth to argue. His retort was cut off when Mary returned with two plates, setting the plate in front of him and returning to the kitchen again. His attention was diverted to the food in front of him once again, staring at the piece of pie. The smell was enough to bring a string of memories to the front of his brain, ones of his mom baking in their tiny apartment during the fall, leaving the pie on the windowsill to cool off, then yelling at his sisters when they would sneak pieces of the crust. He didn't even realize he was trembling until a napkin obscured his view and he looked up to see Laurel holding it out.

"Are you okay?" Her concern was a foreign concept to him and he nodded, slightly in shock. "Yeah, just reminded me of my mother." She seemed like she understood and then they ate their pie in silence, enjoying the taste of cinnamon and apples and reminiscing.

Laurel paid and they exited the restaurant onto the empty street. Bucky's full stomach was sending him into a sleepy stupor, but the thought of sleeping another night in a parking garage made his stomach turn. They walked back towards the bar, with Laurel leading the way. She stopped at the door next to the bar and turned, giving him a calculated look. "Do you want to sleep on my couch tonight? I can tell you need somewhere to stay."

"How did you know that?" His hand automatically went to his handgun and he tensed. "Because I was in your place at one point, I know a kindred spirit when I see one." She shrugged her thin shoulders casually.

He said, "I don't want to intrude." Even if the thought of heat and a roof was incredibly tempting. She unlocked the door, "How about just one night then? It's temporary." Bucky paused, and after a momentary internal debate, followed her up the creaky stairs and into a tiny apartment, where she pointed the couch out to him and he fell onto it, turning over once and falling asleep almost immediately.

Chapter 3 is up! Sorry for the delay, I was moving into school and things got a bit hectic. If you like it, let me know by reviewing or favoriting! I love reading the comments, they make me feel really special :) Thanks again!

kath