It's understandable if people are late on Monday's. They're Mondays for a reason, so over sleeping due to a long exciting weekend, or just dreading the work week is understandable. People drag their lethargic bodies out of their warm beds, just to realize they've over slept and will be late to start their day. This would all be fine and acceptable, expected even, however, it's not Monday. It's Wednesday, and Charlie didn't wake up late.

Her alarm rang obnoxiously loud, a little earlier than usual and she sleepily slapped her hand around for her phone, as she does every weekday morning, to silence it. She dressed in plenty of time, opting for a more professional, yet still casual look as she had a meeting first thing in the morning. She decided on a nice pair of blank pants with strip of faux leather up the sides for added texture, and a white silk button up blouse, with a black camisole underneath. She stuck with her black glittery ankle boots, just for a touch of flare, and because it's Fall, and she will wear boots every day from now on. She left her hair down after she brushed it, running her fingers through a few strands to adjust the style.

She woke up earlier for a reason, having a meeting with the same manager of that band, and decided to get coffee along the way. However, the long line at Ella Café was unaccounted for. Charlie bit back a groan at the sight, knowing the wait would cut her time close. She would have just left, if she hadn't offered to bring coffee for Lizzie before the meeting. She couldn't even spot Pete, the line too long and the counter too busy. So, she waited, rather impatiently, tapping her foot, and suppressing her eye roll when the fifth person asked if the café has a secret menu. It doesn't.

She kept checking her phone for the time, sending a quick text to Lizzie that she might be running late. Instead, she let her eyes wonder around the people hustling outside. Given by the quick clean up and busy streets, no one would have expected that a few sinister men with enhanced weapons were fighting just a week ago.

From that thought, her mind wondered to the clean up itself, and how incredible, powder blue eyes enthralled her for the second time. How near shoulder length hair had been tied back into a bun, with shorter strands that framed a handsome, strong face. How small wrinkles formed by the corner of those eyes as a sheepish smile spread across dark pink lips.

"Um. Could you possibly pay attention and move up? Thanks." A rather rude and irritated voice speaks up from behind her.

It snaps Charlie out of her reverie, and she glares at the impolite person over her shoulder. Her eyes drop to the ground for a moment. "Maybe if you learned some patience, you'd realized you dropped your wallet on the floor and now a little kid is running away with it."

The rude man spins, notices that his wallet is indeed making a getaway, curses, then runs after the kid, shouting. Charlie smirks in satisfaction and thanks Karama. She takes three steps forward and finally sees Pete. He makes eye contact and waves quickly, jerking his head up to start her order over the next four people in front of her. She waves him off, allowing the people in line to order; they're probably running late as well.

When it's finally her turn, Pete is smiling, but his mouth is tight around the corners. "Linda called out sick today, so we're a bit short staffed. Sorry, honey."

"It's alright, I'm sorry though." Charlie winces in sympathy. "I've got a mine and Lizzie's order today. Iced please."

"Meeting?" He asks, already grabbing two cups.

"Yeah, manager of that local YouTube band." She beams at him, "Extra drizzle on-."

"Lizzie's. Yup! You got it, love." He quickly jots down the drink names on the cups.

"Good luck with the rest of your day." She offers, swiping her card to pay.

She glances at her phone once more, eyes widening as an update comes through. Apparently, said manager has decided to come in earlier than planned, and demanded to move the meeting up. Charlie groans internally, and now her five-minute tardiness suddenly turned into fifteen.

Once Charlie has her drinks tight in her hands, she carefully but quickly makes her way through the crowded shop. She knows if she can catch a cab in time, it'll only make her twenty minutes late. She rushes out the door, thankfully held open by another costumer, and steps off the small stoop, then promptly crashes into someone.

Charlie lets out an "oof!" as both drinks go popping up into the air. The cups are smashed between her chest and whoever she ran into, the plastic crunching with the impact. Because it's apparently her unlucky day, the majority of the drinks splash all over her torso.

Cold liquid and ice run down her shirt, and her skin is covered in the bittersweet aroma of coffee, dripping down onto her boots. She looks up, ready to tear this person a new one, when she stares right into the eyes she was daydreaming about earlier.

"Really? Again?" She huffs in disbelief.

She kind of wants to yell in frustration, both drinks staining her white blouse in an abstract array of different shades of brown, along with the amber color of caramel drizzle. However, the horrified expression coloring Bucky's face as he stares at her halts her anger. His hands are hovering in the air as if he instinctively reached out to try and help, and her annoyance melts away like the ice against her skin.

Bucky closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. His expression now morphing into shameful embarrassment. "I am so sorry, Charlie."

She's about to respond, when her phone buzzes in her back pocket and she abruptly remembers the new time of the meeting. That she will now be a good half forty-five minutes late for if she has to go back to her apartment. Quickly thinking on the spot, her eyes flicker from her stained shirt, to Bucky's clean, dark blue button up.

"Give me your shirt." Is the sentence that comes out of her mouth.

Snapping his eyes open, Bucky stares at her bemused. "Excuse me?"

Charlie holds her sticky, coffee covered hand out, beckoning her fingers. "Your shirt. Can I have your shirt please?"

"Um," Bucky looks around as if some invisible person with answers will come to him. "What?"

Huffing, she says, "I need your shirt. Seeing as mine is completely ruined and soaked through, and I have a meeting I'm extremely late for, and you, once again, committed the crime of coffee spilling, and your shirt is clean. I need your shirt."

Bucky quirks an eyebrow, crossing his arms. He suddenly looks amused, a bright glint flashing in his bright eyes. "You need my shirt?"

"Oh my god, James, for the third time-" Charlie rolls her eyes, shaking off her hands before quickly unbuttoning her shirt. There's a sudden, yet gentle grip on her elbow, tugging her to the side of the café.

"What the hell are you doing!?" Bucky hisses at her, eyes darting around their surroundings. "You can't just strip in the middle of the goddamn street, Charlie."

"Why aren't you stripping in the middle of the goddamn street?" She counters, shrugging his hand off her elbow, and pulling her shirt off her arms. "I'm wearing an undershirt, calm down." She lifts her eyebrows pointedly at him. "Please, Bucky, your shirt? I'll seriously be late if I have to go all the way back home, and this manager we're meeting with is already a diva and I can't-"

"Alright, one second." He complies, finally unfastening the five buttons that held his shirt together. He quickly tugs it off, handing it to her. She shoves her own into his hands.

"Thank you!" She beams at him.

"Isn't that too big, how are you-?"

Charlie already has her arms in the sleeves, rolling them up to her elbows. She hurriedly buttons up the shirt, then unbuckles her belt around her waist and wraps it around her stomach. She tightens it until it forms a makeshift dress. She adjusts the collar, making sure it's straight, then meets Bucky's wide-eyed gaze.

"How do I look? Like I didn't have two cups of coffee splattered all over me, I hope." She quips.

"Great. Uh. You look beautiful." Bucky stumbles over his words. "I-I mean, you look good. Profession- um. Aren't you going to be late?"

His question abruptly halts the whirl of warmth flooding her stomach and coloring her cheeks. "Fuck me. You're right." She groans, turning on her heel and walking towards the street.

Charlie throws her hand up for a passing cab, but they drive right by. Well, fuck you too then. She's about to try again, when a loud whistle pierces through the air. Startled, Charlie looks next to her, Bucky standing there waving as a cab slows down next to them. He opens the door for her once the car as stopped.

"I did not think people did that anymore." She states, rather impressed. She smiles at him. "Thank you."

He returns a shy one. "It's the least I can do, since I've made you extremely late. Let me pay for the cab as well."

His offer is sweet, but if she continues to stand there while Bucky digs out cash, the meeting will be pointless to even have. "It's fine, honestly, I'll just-"

"None of that, sweetheart." Bucky cuts her off, gently pushing her into the cab, his hand warm on her back. He slides in next to her. "I'll just go with you."

"You don't have-"

"Tell the nice man where to take you, Charlie." Bucky smirks, digging his wallet out of his jeans.

She's distracted by the flexing bicep of his right arm, her eyes panning from his bare arm to his chest. The tight undershirt leaving very little to the imagination with how it just clings to each ab, to his well toned chest. She swallows dryly, then quickly gives the address to the driver.

Thankfully, it only takes five minutes. Charlie nearly tucks and rolls, but Bucky's hand on her shoulder halts her from doing that. He just shakes his head and rolls his eyes, but his smile combats those actions.

"Thank you, Bucky." She expresses, "I'll pay you back-"

"Just go!" He laughs, waving his arm at her like he did that first day they encountered each other. "Don't worry about it."

She wants to though. She wants to give him money, wants to say more of a goodbye and really show her gratitude about helping her, but her phone buzzes relentlessly. All she has is a small wave and smile, then she's sprinting through the doors.

The familiar smell of Ella Café welcomes Charlie like a warm cozy blanket after a long day. She had been stuck in meetings, physically and phone wise, all day dealing with the diva of a manager from the band she has been trying to get for weeks. Not to mention yet another phone call from a venue pulling out for another fundraising event. She has been on edge the entire day, and the only thing that has kept her from snapping was the soft feel of borrow fabric.

At times throughout the day, she had forgotten she practically stole Bucky's shirt, until her nose caught a whiff of his scent. The first time it happened was while she was grinding her teeth together in attempt to bite back a retort to the manager. She had dropped her head down briefly, inhaling a calming breath, and the smell of something comforting ensnared her. It took her a moment to place what it was; soft leather, a forest just after a rainstorm.

It had instantly settles her anxiousness cause by the meeting. By the time the manager had left, Charlie had a smile playing across her lips. She had shaken her head and chuckled lowly at herself, forgetting she had turned Bucky's shirt into a makeshift dress. From then on, she subtly took whiffs from the collar, from the rolled up cuff of the sleeve, to pinching the cotton fabric between her fingers. All while trying to hold back a smile and tamper down the strange flutter in her stomach every time she thought about it.

However, it didn't stop her groaning and moaning about the coffee machine in the Center being broken. So, Charlie practically stumbles into Ella and drapes her torso over the counter. Pete and another worker ignore her, used to her desperateness she tends to have with the lack of coffee.

"Peeeeete." She whines pitifully, picking her head up. "I'm in need. The fucking coffee machine was broken all day at the Center, and no one even had time to pop out to get some."

"That sounds like a personal problem." Pete responds as he hands the worker leftover pastries from the display case. "We're all out, by the way. Just decaf, and tea."

"That's not funny. I don't want tea. This isn't a tea kind of day, this is major vats of coffee. I need coffee in an IV!" She taps her inner elbow.

"Your endless supply of Gilmore Girls quotes never ceases to astound me."

Charlie pouts at him, batting her eyes. Pete sighs, then turns around to prepare her a cup. She perks up because she knew he was lying, and he could never be that cruel to her. He looks pointedly at her, then jerks his head to the back of the shop. She frowns in confusion.

"You have a visitor." He informs quietly.

She leans to the side and her breath picks up a little. A little spark of excitement zinging up her spine. "Has he been waiting long?"

Pete smirks. "About forty-five minutes. Came in here wanting to return something to you."

Completely forgetting her need for caffeine, Charlie pushes herself off the counter and slowly makes her way to the back. She inhales soundlessly, the smell of Bucky captivating her senses once more before she reaches the real deal. She gathers her confidence, pulling her best playful smile and places one hand on her hip and the other on top of the table.

"Hey handsome, come here often?"

Bucky's ocean colored eyes widen as he meets her gaze, then he chuckles. Without missing a beat, he counters, "Not as often as you, darlin'."

She ignores the flip of her stomach the term of endearment causes, especially since his distant Brooklyn accent had slipped in there. She takes the seat opposite of him, her eyes dropping to his hands around an empty cup.

"What are you doing here?" Charlie inquires curiously.

His hands leave the cup in favor of picking something up from chair next to him, putting it on the table. It's her shirt she was wearing this morning before the mishap. Except, it's clean, completely stained from the coffee mosaic, and folded so neatly, it's like he picked it right off the table of a retail store.

"I felt bad, so I got it cleaned for you." He explains sheepishly. He shrugs, and the ends of his long hair brush the top of his traps. "Also, you left it in the cab."

"So, you decided to wait here for me to return it?" She tries holding off the smile threatening to take over at the sweet gesture.

He licks his lips nervously. "I haven't been here long, but yes. I figured running into you here was a safe bet. Literally."

The smile wins out. "Thank you, Bucky." She says, taking her shirt as he slides it over.

"So, where's your coffee? I heard you need it in an IV, or was my hearing off?" He smirks at her.

She opens her mouth, the shuts it because she forgot. She points to the counter. "Over there. Where I preferred it to be, since it never seems safe around you."

Bucky scrunches his nose briefly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry, Charlie." He chuckles, and somehow, he doesn't sound sorry at all. "Did you end up being late for that meeting?"

She groans and sinks in her seat. "A little. The manager of that band bitched and moaned about it, then she proceeded to be late to the meeting after lunch. By an hour." She rubs her hand over her eyes, only to remember she still has makeup on, and wipes away the smudged eyeliner beneath her eyes.

"Sounds stressful." Bucky winces in sympathy. "Um, if you don't mind me asking. What exactly is your job?"

Charlie sits up again, excited to tell him. "I'm the Event Coordinator for this therapeutic center called Loving Arms. We work with some special needs children but mainly with children who are equipped with prosthetic limbs. We have affordable therapy, occupational, physical, speech. It's not every big or well known, but we try to offer affordable prices for the parents because prosthetics get expensive. However, because of that, funding isn't easy to come by, which is where I come in. I organize events and fundraisers, and to brighten the kids' weeks, I try and bring in people to entertain them. Musicians, sports players, balloon animal makers, those types of people."

"That's pretty amazing, Charlie." Bucky says, a smile on his mouth that makes her breath stutter.

She nods, biting her lip briefly. "I love it. I mean, it gets stressful, especially putting on fundraisers, and sometimes I have to deal with rude people like that manager, but all in all. I absolutely love it. Seeing the smiles on those kids faces when they realize they aren't invisible. That people do care about them, and see more than just a prosthetic, more than a disability. It's a part of them and reminds them that they're loved and accepted."

She stops talking when she see Bucky's eyes have dropped to his left hand. His gaze looks distant, a little lost, as he stares at his fist. The dark blue metal contrasts against the lines of gold detailing from his fingers, up to his shoulder that's hidden underneath his long sleeve shirt. She finds his vibranium made arm to be beautiful, however, she fears she may have said something wrong. Something that is causing the somber look on his face, and she desperately wants to bring back the smile that keeps warming her chest.

"Um," She speaks inadequately. "How about you, Just Bucky? What kind of work are you in?" She ends with a light joke.

It seems to work, since Bucky's eyes snap back to hers, a small smile teasing his pink lips. "Well, when I'm not destroying coffee shops, I tend to bump into pretty girls and spill their coffee."

He defiantly plays up the smirk on his mouth, and it definitely causes her cheeks to heat upgrin. The fact that he just called her pretty doesn't go unnoticed, especially when his eyes seem to travel over her face as if he's intaking details.

"Sounds like an occupational hazard." She quips, grinning shyly.

"It's strange though," He continues, a mirthful glint in his blue eyes. "She must be a klutz. She can't ever seem to have a firmer grasp on the cups since it's happened three times already."

Charlie gasps in a mocked outraged. "Excuse me!" She scoffs, attempting to sound scandalized as he grins. "Shouldn't you as a super solider be trained in the art of gracefulness and be aware of his surroundings to avoid such happenings!?"

Bucky leans his elbows on the table. "Maybe I just got distracted by your magnetic field being a little too strong, Charlie. Throwing my balance off. Or" his eyes drop down for a moment before meeting her gaze again. "by your beauty."

She nearly falls for it, for his charm, for that goddamn coy smile on his full lips. She copies his move, resting her elbows on the surface and making the space between them smaller. She squints at him.

"Bullshit." She calls him out. "Since your back has been turned each time, so you couldn't have seen me."

A low breathy chuckle escapes his mouth. "Option one then. Maybe I just feel a pull towards you."

The space has got smaller in the span of three seconds. It's not wild to think he might be right; there seems to be something between them despite this being their fourth meeting. The quirk of Bucky's eyebrow and his gaze dropping once more makes the puzzle pieces abruptly click together in her brain. She pulls her eyes away from his deep cerulean ones, to that charming little smile on his lips.

"Sergeant Barnes." Charlie starts quietly, slowly bringing her eyes back up, "are you flirting with me?"

He blinks twice, then straightens up. "I'm not sure I'm doing a good job of it. It's been quite a while. A few decades give or take."

The joke startles a laugh out of her, and before she can do or say anything else, someone approaches their table. When she looks, Pete is standing there, a box full of pastries. He's giving her a knowing, pointed look as he places the box down.

"Here you go, Charlie." Pete tells her, collecting Bucky's empty mug. "Sorry it isn't much this time, it was busy today."

"Don't worry about it, it's plenty." She promises. "It's good that you were busy."

"Well, enjoy. Also, I'm leaving in ten minutes, so hurry your smitten asses up because I'm not letting you lock up. You forgot the alarm code last time."

"Wait," Bucky speaks up as Pete walks away. "The café is closed?"

Charlie shifts through the leftover pastries. "They close at six, and it's-" she glances at the clock on the wall. "Five after."

"Whoops."

"Don't worry about it." She tells him casually, picking up a loaf of bread. "Have you ever tried pumpkin bread?"

Bucky shakes his head. "I don't seem to understand the obsession with Fall and pumpkin. According to Parker, it's a basic bitch thing?"

A bark of laughter escapes her throat, throwing her head back and dropping the plastic wrapped loaf. "Oh my god, why were you taught that phrase?"

Shrugging he tells her, "I have to keep up with the times somehow."

"Holy shit." She continues to laugh. "Just eat the pumpkin bread."

They end up sharing the loaf, and she ends up telling him that yes, she is one of those people who loves everything pumpkin and maple flavored. That the fall months, from September to November is what she lives for, and as its currently the first week of October, she will take all the pumpkin she can get.

Despite Pete threatening to make them leave when he does, he leaves them be. Unknown to them, he just allows them to banter back and forth.

"Can I ask you something?" Charlie questions timidly after a while. "And please stop me if it's too personal and invasive."

Crumbling the now empty plastic wrap, Bucky nods. "Ask away, Charlie."

Her eyes fall to his left hand. "I'm just curious. How does your arm work exactly? Does it connect to every single nerve and because of it, is that how you can use it unlimitedly? Fully function range of motion? It just seems so different from the other one."

He doesn't answer right away, just a heard to read expression on his face. She slowly and carefully reaches across the table, keeping eye contact, waiting for him to tell her to stop. He doesn't, and to her utter surprise, Bucky allows her to touch his knuckles. The vibranium is smooth, just slightly cooler than her own flesh hand, dipping her fingertips between them. She quickly pulls her hand back, feeling slightly embarrassed that she just touched him in a rather personal space invasion way. She chews her lips nervously for a moment.

Inhaling slowly, Bucky seems to contemplate something as he stares at his hand. He flexes his finger twice before closing them into a fist.

"I'm assuming you've heard all about me, Charlie." He remarks, his voice quiet, reserved.

She only hesitates for a moment, thinking back to when Bucky said he felt pulled towards her. He wasn't wrong, despite his joking manner. She feels it too. So, she's completely honest with her next words.

"Yes." She confesses, keeping her voice just as soft. "However, I don't know you."

Bucky's eyes snap up to hers.

She offers him a friendly smile. "But I'd like to. Get to know Just Bucky. It could be mutual since you don't know anything about me either."

Bucky licks his bottom lip, his tongue darting out. "I seem to know more than you think, darlin'."

She raises her eyebrows in a challenge. Bucky smirks.

"Apparently, you love pumpkin flavored anything." He informs her of his knowledge, leaning forward once more. "You have a serve coffee addiction, because you can't seem to be without one cup for a day."

She grins brightly.

"And you have a kind, gentle heart."

Charlie tilts her head curiously. "What makes you say that?"

His smirk fades into a softer smile. "You work with children. I can see the passion you have for what you do and I'm willing to bet you'd do anything to make them smile. To make them happy. That's why you appear to have patience for people who are rude, because in the end, all that matters is the children's happiness. That's what makes you have a kind heart."

Charlie doesn't realize she had leaned closer as well, and is only aware when two quick pinging sounds echo between them. They both blink, as if they've been in a trance of some sort. Bucky rips his captivating eyes away from her to pull out his phone and reads the screen.

"Got a hot date tonight?" She can't help but joke. Mentally she winces because that was as obvious as the table in front of them.

He snorts, lifting his gaze to hers. "I'd need to have a date for it to be hot, as you said." The right corner of his mouth twitches up. His phone sounds again, and he scrunches his nose and pushing his hair back. "Actually, there's a briefing I have to be at. Work awaits." He explains, shaking his phone.

She sits back, suddenly aware of the clear air and not the all too familiar scent of leather and forest muddling her brain yet again. She nods in understanding, and gathers her shirt and the box of pastries.

"I should head home anyway."

"Finally!" Pete calls from the counter he had been sitting on.

Charlie rolls her eyes as she stands. Bucky follows suit. "Wait. I thought the Avengers compound was somewhere upstate. Why did you come all the way here?"

Bucky only answers after Pete had jokingly shoved them out of the café, and onto the street. "It is. I may have a place nearby though." She quirks her right eyebrow. Bucky laughs. "It can get overwhelming, so I bought a place just outside the city."

"Hmm." She sounds, spotting a motorcycle sitting next to the curb, but she barely pays attention to it. "That would be understandable." She adjusts the small box. "Well, I should go drop these off at the center for tomorrow." She pauses to inhale. "It was nice seeing you again, spill free this time."

"You never actually had your daily dose." Bucky reminds her with a playful. "How far is the center? I wouldn't mind walking with you, it's getting dark."

"Thank you, Bucky." Charlie says sweetly. "But you'll be late, and I can just take the subway, it's not far."

He steps closer, looking down at her. "The least I can do is walk you to the nearest station?"

She nods, biting her lip to contain her smile. The one he gives her in return though makes her heart flutter weirdly. She begins to walk, both bidding goodbye to Pete. She explains that he gives her and some churches the left-over pastries that didn't sell at the end of the day so that don't go to waste. She finds another loaf of pumpkin bread and insists Bucky take it for his meeting.

The walk only lasts ten minutes and it goes by so quickly that she can't help feeling just a little disappointed. There's an awkward hesitance as they linger by the stairs leading down to the station. Charlie feels like she should do something more than just offer a simple good evening. They share small smiles and she thanks him for walking her and for cleaning her shirt.

Bucky nods. "Really, it wasn't a problem. Have a good night, Charlie." He bids softly.

She bites her lip briefly. "You too."

He nods once more, then turns, walking away. Charlie watches him go, and everything from their conversation plays back in her mind like someone is rewinding a tape. She hardly knows the charming man, but she suddenly feels like he took all the warmth with him, leaving her with the crisp Fall air. She finds herself craving more.

"Hey, Bucky!" She calls to him.

He's now across the street, heading back toward the café. "Hey, Charlie."

She flashes him her best and winning smile. "You are pretty good at the flirting thing."

Then she winks at him, and quickly descends the stairs to the subway. She's two stops away from her street when the smell of leather reminds her that she's still wearing Bucky's shirt.