Wanda arrives much sooner than either of them expect. Bucky is busy examining Amel. She's pretty. Small. Standing at full height, the top of the woman's head will probably barely reach his chin. She's lean, though generously curved in all the right places. He wonders how she'll fit against his body. Wonders if her smooth, coffee-colored skin is as soft as it looks.
His appraisal is cut short by the sound of the door sliding open again, followed by the soft squeak of Wanda's combat boots echoing quietly inside the small room.
Amel straightens in her seat. He notices the way her eyes – God, what strange and beautiful eyes they are - move over the younger woman. Quick and efficient. Instinctive.
"Hello," Wanda greets them with ease, coming to stand beside Bucky where he's still sitting at the table. "Steve sent me. He believes I can help?"
Bucky only nods, a small part of him hoping the young, dark-haired Sokovian can find something in all this mess. Hopes she can extract some bit of information from Amel's mind which might aid in jogging his memory, in addition to clearing up the woman's identity, of course.
He nods toward her. "This is Amel. Amel, this is Wanda."
It's the first time he's spoken her name aloud, and it's easy. It feels right on his tongue. Sweet.
Her eyes lock on the younger woman's. "Hi there. You're the one who'll be checking me out?"
Wanda nods, her long dark hair shifting about her shoulders and full lips turning up in a gentle smile.
"That's right," she replies in her softly accented voice. She takes slow, measured steps around the table. Comes to a stop next to Amel's seat.
"He told you what I am? That I'm a shifter?"
"Yes. I do not quite understand it but, I suppose, I will find out."
Bucky marvels at the easy interaction between the two. Neither appear afraid or wary of the other and, he thinks, that must mean something. At least, he hopes it does.
Amel moves again, as much as she can with her arm locked to the table. Turns her chair until she's facing the younger woman more fully.
"Okay, what should I do?"
Wanda shrugs a thin shoulder. Gives a small shake of her head, then gracefully lowers herself to a crouch in front of Amel's chair, her black skirts shifting prettily around her.
"Nothing at all. I'm going to enter your mind. You may feel me there, and it may be a bit uncomfortable, but do not fight it. It is easier if you do not fight."
Amel sniffs. Cast a quick glance in Bucky's direction.
"All right. I can do that."
"Wonderful."
Wanda reaches out. Holds her thin hands at either side of Amel's face. Her power rises immediately, delicate strands of glowing, dark red swirling around her thin hands and between her gracefully dancing fingers.
Amel keeps her eyes on Wanda. She's at ease and Bucky's glad for that. All of this must be so difficult and stressful for her. He finds himself pushing up and out of his seat. Moves slowly around the table to stand close to the pair, feeling a bit of anxiety growing in his chest. What feels like care and concern amidst the curiosity. A sort of protectiveness that's unexpected.
He doesn't miss Wanda's soft, sharp intake of breath. She smiles broadly at Amel.
"My, she's quite lovely," she says, and Amel looks somewhat shy. Bashful.
Bucky likes the look on her. Has a fleeting image of brushing the back of his fingers over the smooth curve of her cheek.
His throat tightens at that thought and he wonders if this is a true memory or something his frazzled brain has created to compensate for what he can't understand.
"Thank you," she murmurs.
A couple beats of silence pass while Bucky watches. Waits. His hands curl into loose fists at his sides.
Finally, Wanda begins to speak again.
"She found you in the woods near her house. You were hurt."
Amel rolls her eyes, the corners of her lips lifting in a teasing smile. "I thought he was a hunter. Boy, was I wrong."
The women share a laugh, one of those quiet, knowing ones and Bucky feels a bit like an outsider. He steps closer. Has to stop himself from reaching out to touch Amel, inexplicably jealous of the obvious growing connection between them.
"She took you home. Cared for you," Wanda continues. Then, stops abruptly, the red tendrils of her power fading away as she pulls her hands back. She blinks at Amel. Rocks back on her heels as she glances hesitantly up at Bucky. "I do not feel it my place to tell you the rest. I'm sorry."
Amel lifts her golden eyes to him. Looks away. Whether out of embarrassment, or if she's hiding something, he can't tell, but there's a bit of sadness on Wanda's face. Pity, perhaps.
"What is it?"
She pushes to her feet. Brushes her palms down the front of her skirt. "It is private," she says simply. "A discussion for the two of you to share."
"It's dirty," Amel clarifies, then lets out a short, almost hysterical bark of laughter which catches them all off guard.
Wanda lifts a thin hand to her face to stifle her own giggle. It's a futile attempt. When her eyes move back to Amel, who's biting her lip and staring up at Wanda from the corner of her eye, they both start to laugh again. And he hates that Wanda knows more about her than he does. Doesn't think it's fair. Feels the heat of anger and impatience winding around his heart. Warming the skin above his shirt collar.
"Is she clean?" he demands. Then says in a softer tone, realizing Wanda doesn't deserve his irritation, "I mean, is she a threat?"
He thinks Amel snorts.
Wanda visibly works to rid herself of the smile still clinging to her lips, though her cherubic face is full of mischief. "Not according to anything I've seen. She's a friend."
Relief washes through him, thick and sharp.
"Good. That's… Steve'll be glad to hear it."
Wanda turns, says softly, sweetly, to Amel, "It was a pleasure to meet you, Amel. I hope to see you again."
The darker woman holds out her hand and Wanda takes it. Gives it a small shake.
"Same here, Wanda. Thank you for your help." Amel appears completely sincere. The light catches and glints prettily in her eyes.
Wanda turns to Bucky. Says as she moves toward the door, "I will speak with Steve."
He nods and, without another word, Wanda breezes through the door.
Once again, they are alone, and neither of them know how to deal with it.