Chapter 7 (In which Bucky and Darcy FINALLY have that talk)

Three Months Ago (Stark Tower Kitchen)

Bucky looked up from his very late lunch—it was well into the afternoon, but his timing had been way off for the last week or so—when he heard irritable muttering echo down the hall, and he arched a brow when a pajama-clad Darcy stomped into the room, glaring down at her phone as she texted furiously.

"What's up frowny?"

Stopping short, Darcy blinked up from her phone, and then her hair, which was wrapped in a large, frizzy bun on the top of her head, flipped forward against her brows, "Ugh," she muttered as she swiped it away. "Can I just hack it all off and be done with it?"

"I don't think that'll go very well with your costume for the thing tonight."

She dropped her phone on the counter and buried her head in her hands, "Oh my god I don't even want to think about tonight. Can I just sleep for a week or something?"

Bucky rolled his eyes, "You know Tony will just drag you out there in your pajamas anyway. Dressing up as your friend Sif is definitely your better option."

"Yeah, but Sif doesn't have frizzy gross monster hair."

"You don't either."

Wrinkling her nose, she rolled her head to the side so she could look at him, "It's just not cooperating today. Today is not cooperating today. And I am not thrilled. Shit like this never happens to Pepper or Tasha. Is it a redhead thing? Wait, no, Natasha's not actually a redhead. Is she? Ugh, it's just not fair."

He put his hands up and shrugged, "You want help?"

"What?"

"I. Can. Help. You," he enunciated as he pushed his chair back, the legs scraping on the tile. "If you want."

After a slow blink, she tilted her head, "You can?"

Shrugging, Bucky gestured to the floor in front of his chair again, "Natasha had long hair when she was young," his mouth twitched as he spared a glance down at his left hand. "Younger."

"Oh," Darcy blinked, her brows inching together. "Right. And you helped her with her hair issues?"

She could see he was seconds away from rolling his eyes, "Do you want me to help or not?"

"Please and thank you," she bounced on her toes before swiping a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and plopping down in front of him, shaking her hair out of the sloppy, lopsided bun.

Bucky carded his hands through her hair and somehow miraculously managed to wrangle the mass of mess into three sections, weaving together two flawless braids on the side of her head that blended into the one he made up top, and Darcy could one thousand percent almost blend in with an Asgardian at this rate.

"So what are you going as?" She asked a few minutes later.

"I'm not going."

She tried to tilt her head back up at him, but Bucky urged her to face the cabinets again, "What do you mean?"

His hands stilled, "I said that in English, right?"

"No, well, I mean, yes you did," she nudged his knee with her arm. "But what do you mean you're not going? Don't you want to see Steve wear his old USO hot pants again? Because this is literally going to make my year. Tony's going to use that Asgardian mead that Thor's bringing to get Steve drunk enough that he'll agree to do the old routine."

"I'm sure JARVIS will pipe me the footage."

She tried to turn again, and he let her rest her arm across his knees, "Or you can just watch it live with us. Live a little. It'll be fun."

"Don't have a costume."

"I'll let you borrow my eyeliner and you can go as a grumpy raccoon. Problem solved."

He rolled his eyes and poked her forehead, "It was war paint."

"You tell that to the internet meme," she laughed as she rested her chin on her arm. "Come on. It'll be great."

Bucky was quiet for a minute before he sighed and twisted a hair tie around the end of the braid he still held, "I don't know."

"Well I do, and remember my rule?"

He let her hair fall against her shoulder, "Not to worry," he parroted. "I'll think about it."

She basically beamed as she propped a hand on his knee and pushed up to her feet, leaning in and kissing his cheek before she stood straight, "Thanks for the hair help. I'll see you later."

Whirling around, she made her way out of the kitchen while holding her phone behind her head and snapping a picture, and just before the ping of the elevator echoed through the hall, he heard her squeal and shout another thank you.

After Lunch

Darcy wasn't sure what was up with her and couches lately, but after lunch, she'd conked right out on the one in the living room, curled up in a ball in the corner with her head on Bucky's leg and his hand in her hair.

When she opened her eyes after what was apparently a hell of a lot longer than a few-minute snooze, she saw that Lily was sitting on the floor in front of the armchair to her right with her eyes glued to the basketball game playing on the television, and John was reading in the chair by the fireplace.

A sleepy squawk echoed in the back of her throat as she stretched the hand tucked under her chin out in front of her, then she patted Bucky's knee as she sat up, shoving her braided hair—which definitely was not braided before she fell asleep, and hell yes her hair was going to be curly tomorrow—off her face with her other hand.

"Morning Sunshine," Lily chirped as she stretched her legs, clad in a pair of garish pink camo leggings, in front of her, because in her words, if she didn't have to dress like she was going to dress like the administrator she was, she was going to dress like one of her athletes. "So is this falling asleep on people thing a normal occurrence in your superhero funhouse?"

"Yes, how is it living there?" John asked, putting his book down on his lap and looked at Darcy for a long minute. "The tabloids speculate-"

Darcy resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but her brain to mouth filter had yet to catch up with her grogginess as she said, "If I was having as much rampant sex as the tabloids keep speculating, do you think I'd ever actually leave?"

"O-oh," John coughed on air. "Well that's, nice, I guess."

Laughing under her breath, Darcy checked her phone as she padded into the kitchen for a drink, saw a coded text from an unknown number—Natasha, the wording meant it was absolutely Natasha, and how was it her life that she could actually decipher coded texts?—asking how things were going.

Aka: how was Bucky doing?

It flashed through her mind that she and Bucky really needed to have that conversation at some point.

Sooner rather than later, preferably.

She tapped a couple sentences back—didn't mention him almost stabbing Mara, because everything was fine—standing by the sink as her foggy brain slowly cleared, and she dropped her empty glass in the sink before heading back into the living room.

Bucky was slouched on the couch, his eyes trained on the television and flicking back and forth as he followed the basketball as it was passed from one red-clad athlete to another, and Darcy came up from his right and settled her hand on his shoulder, "Hey, want to go take a walk?"

Sparing a glance out the window, the sun slanting across the carpet, he looked up at her and shrugged, "Why not?"

While he got up, she threw her jacket on and stepped into her boots, tugging the laces tight and tucking the rest into her sock, "Hey Mom, we're going out," she called over her shoulder to the woman standing in the kitchen with Valerie.

There was a giggle, and Darcy looked up to the staircase where Mara was hiding between posts on the banister that bordered the landing, "But what if there are bears!" She squealed.

"I wrestled a bear once."

Darcy could see that Bucky was caught up in a fragment of a memory, and she resisted the urge to wave a hand in front of his face when what he said actually registered, "Wait, what?"

"I was back in Russia?" He blinked, and then nodded his head. "I was in Russia. In a gulag."

"And you wrestled a bear," she said slowly.

He nodded again, "Yes."

Biting her lower lip, she took a second to imagine how the hell that was even possible—a couple possibilities popped into her mind, each more hysterical than the last—and then she shrugged, "Okay then," she looked up at her sister. "Looks like a bear-mergency won't actually be a problem. Later gators!"

Darcy curled her arm around Bucky's as they walked down the front steps, for balance, "So this bear of yours," she drawled, waiting for him to flinch or tense or something, but she went on when he didn't. "Was it a mutated bear? A man magically transformed into a bear? An alien bear?"

"No," he helped her down an icy patch, and then kicked it away. "Just a regular, run of the mill bear."

She blinked, "Well okay then," she wrinkled her nose as they descended down five more of the sixty-three steps. "Should I ask?"

"Probably not."

The rest of the careful trip down to the street was spent in silence, but not like the usual silence, like when Darcy would sit in the common level living room and binge watch cop procedurals on Netflix while Jane slept off a science marathon or was otherwise occupied by Thor, and Bucky would join her, propped up by the window with a book from Stark's library, looking up from time to time when she'd make a snarky comment about something on her show.

Pepper had been the one to give him access since Tony avoided the library like the plague.

"Everything all right?" She asked as they turned right and headed toward the corner. "You've been quiet."

He arched a brow, shrugging as he shoved his hands in his pockets, "I'm always quiet."

Darcy rolled her eyes right back, "Yeah, but you usually still speak in like, eyebrow ticks and sardonic facial expressions even when you're not talking," she flapped her free hand in his direction. "Now you're just, quiet."

"I'm thinking."

"So that's what's burning," she squealed as he elbowed her and she caught herself against a tree, snow falling off the thin branches and onto her head. "Ugh, cold!"

"That would be the point of snow."

Leveling a glare in his direction, she brushed the snow off her shoulders and toward him, not that it really did anything but wet the arm of his coat, and she pointed her finger at him, mouth working as she tried to figure out a decent insult.

With a smirk, Bucky grabbed her hand, tugging her along, "I know, I know, I'm the worst."

She wrinkled her nose as she grinned up at him, curling her other hand around his elbow, "You're still kind of my favorite though."

"Only kinda?"

"Maybe a little more if you actually tell me what you're thinking."

He squeezed her hand, and it was only then that she realized that the whole hand holding thing was happing a lot lately, "Just thinking through some things, doll. Not to worry."

Sighing, she nudged his side, "I will make you tell me."

"Probably."

They were walking past a park a few blocks from the house when Darcy ducked down with the pretense of tying her boot, and took a second to gather some snow in her gloved hands.

There was a slightly crunch of gravel before a wet ball of snow splattered across her cheek, "What!"

Darting back up to her feet, Darcy gaped at Bucky, who stood in the middle of the empty street, smirking as he held his hands at his sides, "Come on doll, you had to know I'd see that coming."

"Oh well," she threw the ball she held, and it glanced off his shoulder before she jumped up to the snow-covered parkland. "Catch me if you can, loser!" She crowed as she ran toward the swing set.

Off like a shot, she crossed the snow-covered grass of the soccer field, giggling as snow pelted across her back, and she rounded the goal and headed toward the trees that lined the far side of the park.

An arm caught her waist as she made it to the first trees, and she squealed as a laughing Bucky gathered her to his chest, but their feet tangled, and he fell hard against the tree to their left, his metal arm making it shake violently and dump its snow on top of them.

"Holy shit," she gasped, wiping snow off her face while Bucky lay across her legs with his head buried in a bush. "Cold, cold, cold."

Propping up on his arms, Bucky sat back and shifted his legs off her while he helped her wipe snow off her shoulder, "Uh, my bad?" He shifted and rested against the tree trunk, watching as Darcy sat cross-legged next to him.

"Was this what it was like when Steve was getting used to that new body of his?" She said through her giggles as she shifted forward a little more and pulled a twig out of his hair.

He snorted, "From what Carter said, it was worse. Something about running through a dress shop."

"You think about the old days a lot?"

"Sometimes," he shrugged, looked down at his hands before tugging his gloves off and stuffing them in his jacket pocket. "I was different then."

Darcy propped her chin on her hand, "People change. I'm not the same aimless poli-sci major I was before New Mexico. It happens. God, I can't imagine trying to get into politics now. Hell, I can't even imagine getting into politics when I thought I wanted to get into politics."

Bucky reached out, curling his hand around her wrist, and she sat back up and let him run his fingers across her palm, "You'd be fine."

Nodding slowly, she smiled, looking up at him through her lashes, and then she shook her head and let out a hollow laugh, "Oh my god," she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Come on Bucky, I've been flirting with you for like, the last six hours, not to mention the last like, four months. Are you going to do something about it or what?"

For a long minute, he just looked at her, and Darcy was just about to let him off the hook and try to figure out how the hell to make this not awkward, not to mention somehow manage to get through the next week, when Bucky tugged on the hand he still held, his other hand cupping the back of her head as he kissed her hard.

Darcy's eyes flared wide before she settled into the kiss, her mouth opening under his, and she shifted closer to his side, one damp hand skimming over his cheek and down his neck.

A pleased sound echoed in the back of her throat as he deepened the kiss, and it turned into a slight squeak as his cold metal hand moved up, over her hip and under her jacket and layered sweaters to rest against her lower back.

Sitting up and changing the angle of the kiss, Darcy threw her leg over his and settled across his lap, the hand on her back pressing her tighter against his hips as he murmured something against her mouth.

Her head swam a little as she made an agreeing noise back while Bucky dug a hand in her hair, his fingers curling tight around the base of her braid, which was sending a lot of happy tingles down her neck and spine and why had it taken them so long to get to this point?

Bucky's mouth broke away from hers, glancing across her jaw and down her neck, and Darcy let out a tiny squeal, her breath catching as he sucked a bite against her collarbone while his thumb drew a distracting track up and down over the base of her spine.

The stinging bordered on pain in such a good way as she threaded her fingers through the short hair at the back of his neck and tugged his mouth back up to hers, her tongue darting past his teeth to tangle with his.

After a while, Darcy broke the kiss with a gasp, swiping tendrils of hair that escaped her now ruined braid off her face as she grinned down at him, her thumb running over his cheek before her brows furrowed and she frowned, "While this would probably normally be considered a good thing, I can't feel my hands," she shifted a little, and Bucky let out a rough groan as he tightened his grip on her back. "Or my feet."

With a laugh, Bucky kissed her again before sitting up and brushing the snow off her legs, managed to tear his gaze away from her flushed face as he looked around the park, saw that the sky was dimming and the street lights were turning on, "We'd better get back before they send out a search party."

"Good, because I think I'm freezing," she picked at her jeans with numb fingers, and wrinkled her nose when they stuck hard to her leg.

He reluctantly let his hand slip off her back, tapping her hip as she carefully moved off him, holding her hands out to help him up, "I think you're overreacting," he murmured, as he let her help him up, then used their joined hands to press her back against the tree and he kissed her again.

"Ugh," she murmured against his mouth, her cold hands fighting against his layers to settle on his hips.

With a high noise that sounded suspiciously like a squeak—and really? a squeak?—Bucky pulled away, grabbing her wrists and bringing her cold hands to his mouth, and he kissed the backs of her fingers before pressing them both to his chest.

She let out a breathless giggle as he kissed her again, short and close-mouthed this time, and then slung his arm around her shoulders, "Come on," he murmured, pressing his lips to her hairline. "Let's head back and get you warmed up."

"I like that plan," she looked up at him through her lashes. "I definitely approve of that plan."

Pressing a quick kiss to her mouth as they walked across the snow, Bucky rolled his eyes, "Not that way," he snorted. "Not unless you want to scandalize your aunt."

"I am totally up for scandalizing Val, it would make my day for like, a week," she grinned as she slipped her hand in his back pocket. "And you know Lily would just be amused as hell."

"And your father would probably kill me."

"You can totally take him."

They finally got back to the house, the sun low in the sky, and Darcy shivered as her wet clothes got even colder, then she looked up at the hill the house sat atop of and groaned, "Ugh, stairs."

Squeezing her waist, Bucky kissed her temple, "Come on you."

The sliding glass doors to the basement were still unlocked from the morning's shenanigans in the snow—part one, Darcy thought with a grin—and Bucky helped her out of her soaking wet boots, leaving them just inside on the rug before he pushed her toward the small bathroom at the end of the hall.

The ice cream sundae puzzle rocked as Darcy pulled the door open with a shaky hand and let Bucky lead her toward the counter.

Leaning against the tile, she flexed her fingers and tried to scrape her wool sock off her right foot, which she propped against her other knee, and Bucky pressed his lips to her forehead before urging her hands away, "I got you doll."

"Oh hell, she muttered as she hopped up onto the bare space on the counter next to the sink. "Who in their right mind thought it would be a good idea to go outside in the snow?"

Bucky laughed as he dropped her soaking wet socks in the sink with a splat, then turned toward the shower, pushing the sliding door to the side and twisting the taps, "I think it was yours."

"Obviously a lapse in what's left of my already limited remaining sanity," she muttered, wriggling out of her soaking set jeans and letting them fall onto the shaggy rug in front of the sink. "Go figure."

The pounding of water against the tub drowned out the thoughts whirling through her mind—they really did need to actually talk about this at some point.

But there didn't seem to be much point in bringing it up when Bucky was peeling her out of her sweater and the two tank tops she layered under it, kissing her slowly when she shivered from the cold.

Sighing against his mouth, she pushed his jackets off his shoulders and then curled her fingers around the hem of his t-shirt, pulling her to stand between her legs, and without breaking the kiss, Bucky threaded his hand through her hair, gently loosing her messy braid.

She shivered against him when her wet hair fell against her bare back, and Bucky tore his mouth away from hers and kissed a line down her neck, Darcy's hands sliding down his sides and tugging at the waistband of his jeans, "Darcy," his voice was muffled against her skin as he pressed his lips back to the mark he sucked there earlier. "We shouldn't, your family-"

"It's not nearly as sexy when you're dying of hypothermia," she curled her fingers under his t-shirt, drew her hands up his back and then raked her nails back down.

With a growl, his hips jerked against her as he leaned down and nipped at her throat, "You're not dying of hypothermia, doll."

"Shows what you know," she snorted, shivering for a whole different reason as she kissed him again, one hand drawing up to his cheek, her thumb stroking back and forth over the line of his jaw while the other went back to the button on his jeans.

Kicking his pants away and muttering something under his breath that was probably an unflattering Russian comment, Bucky curled his arms under her hips and lifted her off the sink, and Darcy let out a quiet squeal against his mouth as she wrapped her legs around his hips.

He pressed her back against the wall next to the shower, the fingers of his right hand tracing the line of her bra before he adjusted his grip on her hips and stepped left into the shower.

Under the spray of the showerhead, Darcy let her feet fall to the tub as Bucky ran his left hand under the water to warm it before he drew both hands up her sides, and then he cupped her face and kissed her again.

"'m not sure what that meant, but I'm assuming I should take that as an insult," she murmured as she broke away, taking a deep breath as she rested her forehead against his chest.

He rubbed his hand up and down her back, stepped her back so he could duck his head under the water, "How are you even thinking right now?"

Laughing, she curled her arms around his shoulders and laced her fingers behind his head, her thumbs running up and down against his neck, "Well that's a damn good question, now isn't it?"

"Darcy Lewis, what am I going to do with you?"

"Well," she laughed as he cut her off with his mouth, sighing when he pulled away. "I mean, come on. You walked right into that."

Bucky tilted his head, leaning in and brushing his nose against hers, "Doll?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up and kiss me."

Who was she to defy an order like that?

With her wet hair deftly re-braided and trailing over the hood of her sweatshirt, Darcy dropped Bucky's hand once they got to the top of the stairs, rubbed her eyes, and tried not to look like they had spent the better part of the last hour making out on the pool table.

But then Lily grinned wide when she saw them enter the kitchen, smacking Darcy on the butt before handing her a glass of wine, "Bathroom air vents," she murmured with a grin as she looked at Bucky. "They're all connected."

She squealed into her glass and took a long sip, "Did anyone else-"

"Don't worry," Lily laughed. "I figure I'd let you be the one to update your relationship status on Facebook."

"Oh thanks a lot," she rolled her eyes.

Tossing another grin and a wink at Bucky, Lily whirled around and strode over to the credenza in the living room where Charlene and Marley were putting candles in all the menorahs.

Darcy buried her nose in her glass as Bucky squeezed her shoulder, "Whoops?" He murmured as unapologetically as he was when he knocked them into that tree. "Could be worse."

"Don't even," she muttered, nudging him with her hip before they made their way over.

Valerie, who was perched on the chair and supervising, looked up when she saw them, "And just where have you two been?"

"Trying to get arrested for public indecency," she winked as her aunt's jaw dropped, Lily cackling as she snapped the candle she held in half and tossed it away. "You know, day in the life."

"You're so funny, Darcy."

Darcy rolled her eyes at her mother's laugh and looked at Bucky, who looked wide-eyed and a little startled, and reached out and squeezed his wrist, "What did I tell you."

He smirked, "You just have to be right, all the time, don't you?"

"Well yeah."

A giggling Mara ran across the room and flung her arms around Darcy's leg, "What's indecency mean?"

With a laugh, she handed Bucky her glass and heaved the girl in her arms, "I think I need to get you a word of the day calendar next year for Chanukah," she poked Mara in the side. "What do you think?"

"I think I'd rather get an Easy Bake Oven."

Laughter echoed through the room, and Darcy let Mara slide out of her arms as everyone gathered around for candles, Charlene passing out a shamash to each person before lighting them.

Darcy leaned against Bucky's side as they lit the three candles on each of their menorahs, and she mouthed along as the rest of the family chanted the prayers before melting the bottom of her shamash and fitting in in the center.

Presents followed right after, and Darcy sat on the floor in front of the mountain of gifts, tugging a large, thin box onto her lap that was tagged as for her from Steve, "Oh, a giant rectangle," she grinned. "I wonder what it could be."

"I know nothing," Bucky snorted from the chair behind her where he was opening a box with a t-shirt with Steve's face on the front and WWCAD printed on bold above it.

Cackling, Darcy wiped tears from her eyes and flapped her hand in the shirt's direction, "Oh my god, where did that come from?"

He favored her with a pointed look, "Who do you think?"

"Clint?" She snorted a laugh at the continued look on his face. "Oh that is the best!" Her eyes lit up. "Do you think we can get Steve to wear that? I can just see the memes now!"

"You and your internet."

Wrinkling her nose, she tore the brown paper off the box on her lap, which revealed a framed black and white sketch of the view of London from the roof of Jane's mom's apartment, "Holy shitballs," she ran the tips of her fingers over the glass. "Look at this. Oh my god!"

Bucky gave the sketch a fond look and shook his head, "That's Steve for ya."

"Think he'd ever give up a life of superhero-ism to become a full-time artist? Because he totally could."

"Depends on the day. And how much Tony's getting on his nerves."

Later, Darcy sat cross-legged on the middle of Bucky's bed, her elbows propped against her knees and her chin on her thumbs as she tapped her fingers together over and over.

"Doll?"

Sitting up, she held her hands out, "Can we have words?"

Bucky curled his fingers around hers, sitting with her knee pressing into his hip, the other against his thigh, "What do you want to talk about?"

She squeezed his hands, "What are we going to do about this?"

"What do you want to do about it?" He sighed and looked away. "I'm not so good about this anymore. Don't know if I ever was."

"We almost had sex in the shower a couple hours ago," she nudged his shoulder when he grinned. "I think you're plenty good at this. We'll just take easy. See how things go. Scandalize the shit out of Steve when he catches us making out on his couch."

Reaching up, he cupped the back of her head and pressed his lips to her hairline, "That's how it's going to be?"

Darcy grinned wide and looked up at him, "It's going to be fun."

With a shake of his head, Bucky gathered her in his arms, "C'mere, doll," he muttered as they curled up by the headboard. "So," he trailed off as Darcy grabbed the throw at the end of the bed and draped it over them.

"So?"

"You going to update your relationship status or what?"

Barking a laugh, she curled her fingers around his collar and tugged him to her, letting him muffle the sounds with his mouth, his grip tight around her waist as he held her against his side.

They kissed, and eventually, Darcy distantly heard a sound from beyond the bedroom door, but until was only until she heard, "Oh for god's sakes Darcy!" From Annie did she break away and jump back.

Face flushed, she wiped a hand over her mouth as she looked up at Annie, "Hey there, what's up?"

Annie's sharp eyes shifted over to Bucky, who was pointedly looking toward the other side of the room, and Darcy watched as she snorted, "I don't even know what I was sent to ask you about. Whatever. Good night."

She pivoted and stalked back out of the room, and Darcy let out a high-pitched giggle as she dropped her head against Bucky's shoulder and pulled the blanket back up her legs, "Well this looks bad."

Bucky poked her side and she squeaked, "Darcy?"

"Yeah?" She swatted at his hand before squeezing his fingers.

"Anyone tell you that you spend way too much time around Barton?"

She laughed, which turned into full-fledged snorts against his side, her cheek pressed against his shoulder.

"Shouldn't we go talk to you parents?" Bucky murmured, his hand rubbing up and down her back as he giggles died off and she caught her breath. "That's what normal people would do, right? That's the right thing to do."

She put a hand up, and then arched a brow and started inspecting the tiny crack-lines in her manicure, "Wait for it," she drawled, tilting her head toward the still open door.

"I knew it!" Charlene's squeal echoed through the house. "My girl's found herself a superhero! Annie, you be nice to Darcy and maybe she'll introduce you to that Captain America fellow! Oh happy day!"

Amidst Bucky's quiet chuckles, Darcy snorted derisively, "Like I'd put him through that special brand of torture," she rolled her eyes and picked at the blanket. "Did she really just say the words oh happy day? Good lord, I don't know what to do with that woman."

"She's your mother."

A minute later, the door to the basement opened and shut, and footsteps echoed down the stairs before Greg poked his head into the room and held up one finger, "I don't want to know," another finger joined the first. "I don't want to know," and then there was a third. "I don't want to know. Yeah?"

"Got it Dad," Darcy laughed as Bucky tightly said, "Yes, sir," and Darcy could feel how tense he'd become as she lay against him, and it only release when Greg retreated back upstairs and the door shut behind him one more time.

Grinning, Darcy leaned up and kissed his cheek, "Crisis averted," she reached across him and grabbed the remote off the nightstand. "Want to watch a movie?"

"Whatever you want to do, doll," he murmured as he settled against the pillows.

Prisoner of Azkaban—the only Harry Potter movie worth watching, in Darcy's opinion—was playing on one of the cable channels, and she was toying with her phone, flicking through Twitter.

Eventually, she tapped up to the top of her timeline before tweeting out, "#thatawkwardmoment when your sister walks in on your making out with an ex-hobo super soldier."

Before she could put her phone down, it vibrated, and she saw from StevenGRogers: "Finally! #tookyoutwolongenough #seriously"

"Pft," she muttered as she angled her phone up so Bucky could see it. "Your bestie's a stinker."

Slouching against Bucky's stomach, she tapped back out, "If you don't think StevenGRogers is the biggest troll on this side of the galaxy, you are so, so wrong #thatisall."

Ten seconds later, he retweeted it to his fifty-eight million followers.