CHAPTER TWELVE
MONDAY
Sunday turns out to be just another normal day at the New Avengers Facility and it's almost like nothing ever happened. In fact, everything is so normal, that Pearl begins to wonder if it was all in her head. Pearl and Bucky spend the day organizing files, talking about Bucky's time in the Army and learning how to make a mug full of chocolate cake in the microwave, though with very poor results. At the end of the day, Bucky asks her what would be the proper time to start a dinner date in the twenty-first century, and her anxiety tries to make an appearance again, but she keeps repeating Natasha's words in her head to push it out of her head.
It's just a date. He really likes you. You'll be fine.
On Monday morning, Tony is supposed to pick her up at eight, so Pearl wakes up at seven in order to get ready. After a healthy breakfast of leftover party pizza, she puts her hair in the nicest possible bun she can manage without straightening her hair, because that would've required at least an extra hour, applies some minimal make up and brushes her teeth extra carefully. She puts on the outfit she's laid out on the chair the night before and packs a sandwich and a bottle of water into her satchel, trying to be prepared for just about anything. At 8.02, there's a knock on her door.
"What the hell are you wearing?" Tony asks as Pearl opens the door, eyeing her ensemble, which is basically just a simple gray suit. A basic jacket with one button and straight pants paired with a white button-up and very modest black heels. It's not the most flattering thing in the world, but it's not that ugly, and it is the suit she wore while doing her internships at school, because it's what they asked her to wear if she wanted to be taken seriously.
Pearl looks down at her clothes. "What? I tried to look like a lawyer."
Tony steps inside, closing the door behind him. He shakes his head. "No, no, no. Your hair is in a bun, for Christ's sake, that won't do. I need you to look like you. Go change."
He waves his hand in a shooing motion before realizing there's really nowhere for Pearl to shoo to. He looks around her tiny apartment.
"This is the only suit I own. It cost a fortune," Pearl says, in disbelief, getting his attention again. She needs to look like herself? For what?
Tony raises an eyebrow and cocks his head to the side. "Three hundred dollars is not a fortune."
It was a fortune to her back when she bought it, and even then it was thirty percent off, and she had to eat nothing but rice for a month to pay for it, but it was a necessity, something to further her education and career. Now, she usually never wears it. She didn't even dig it out for her settlement meeting, because that wasn't a real court thing, but this might be.
"How do you know-, wait, of course you know. What am I supposed to wear?" Pearl asks, trying very hard not to remind him that he is wearing a suit. Of course his suit is worth at least as much as twenty of hers, but still.
Tony shrugs. "Whatever you want."
"What if this is it?" she asks, even though it totally isn't.
The suit is hot, and not in a good way, the color is boring and the fabric is bulky and scratchy, and even though the jacket is fitted, it somehow makes her look like she has no waist. The jacket is too long and so are the pants; they make her look like she's got stumpy legs and a long torso, when in reality, it's the other way around.
"I highly doubt that. Go," Tony says and does the shooing motion again.
Pearl digs through her closet for another outfit and goes to the bathroom to change.
"And put on lipstick," Tony calls out through the door as Pearl is in the process of ripping off her pantyhose.
She curses under her breath, mostly at his orders, but a little bit at the pantyhose, too, because they were clearly invented by the devil, at least the super sheer ones that usually rip within the first ten minutes of wearing them, if not straight as they're taken out of the box. She wouldn't have even put them on if she could have located a pair of sheer socks—like pantyhose, but in sock form—because a former teacher of hers told her it was disrespectful to show up in a court room without socks and he made such a big deal about it, that it stuck with her.
Pearl puts on her hastily chosen outfit quickly, because she doesn't know if they're already late or what the deal is; she's still out of the loop on everything. The end result is pretty cute, considering she just grabbed things at random, as she ends up wearing black, high-waisted and figure-hugging pants, that cut off above the ankle, with the white button up tucked into them and black heels, but these ones are more like five inches high and not two and a half like the ones she had on before. She pops open a few of the top buttons on her shirt, pulls out the hair ties and bobby pins holding her bun together, shakes out her hair and coats her lips with a bubblegum pink lipstick before taking one last look in the mirror and deciding that she definitely does not look like anybody's lawyer, but has at least fulfilled Tony's assignment of looking like herself.
She steps out of the bathroom and dumps all of her stuff from the satchel into a burgundy leather tote bag.
"Alright. Now we can go," Tony says, opening the door.
Pearl follows him through it, down the stairs and out of the building into his car. They get in. "Are you going to tell me what to expect?"
"Just follow my lead," Tony says, putting on his sunglasses. Pearl wonders if all superheroes are this mysterious or if it's just a billionaire/playboy/philanthropist thing.
They get to the courthouse, after ignoring just a few speed limits, and rush through it. Pearl is quickly introduced to another one of Tony's lawyers, but it all goes by so fast, she totally spaces on his name. He tells them to get a move on and they proceed to a small room where a bunch of people are already having a heated, yet civilized argument, and they're all wearing nice suits, and there's a judge behind a mahogany desk and a court transcriber to his left, and Pearl thinks she's probably sticking out like a sore thumb but nobody really pays attention to her because they're all busy flipping through their calendars and papers and trying to get their point across to the judge.
At first, Pearl is very, very confused about the situation, but listening to the different people, she begins to differentiate Tony's lawyers from... Whoever the other side is. They're trying to get a court date pushed up while Tony's team is doing everything they can to get it delayed, probably trying to win more time to deal with whatever is going on. Tony's being sued, obviously, or Stark Industries is, Pearl isn't exactly sure yet, but that's about the only thing she's figured out so far. Tony's moved over to a red couch by the wall and appears to be playing a game on his phone, so he's either not worried at all or doing a pretty good job of hiding it, and she's just standing by the door, relieved that so far, she hasn't had to actually do anything.
The judge decides on a date that doesn't seem to please either party too much and they all skedaddle out of the room. Tony shakes hands with some of his lawyers before turning back to see Pearl with her face scrunched up, wondering what just happened.
"So, what exactly is happening?" she asks.
Tony types up things on his phone and brushes off her question without second thought. "It's a frivolous lawsuit, a whole bunch of nonsense, really."
"Tony," she says firmly. He looks up and she stares into his eyes. "What is it?"
"I'm being sued for discrimination. See, Stark Industries recently hired some interns for permanent positions, and we had to let others go, and the ones that didn't make the cut got together and decided it was because of their looks," he explains, ending with an eye roll.
"Was it?" Pearl asks, not really sure what she expects to hear. He's kind of acting like this is just another normal day and this kind of thing happens all the time. Maybe it does.
He shakes his head. "Of course not. I have hundreds of people working for me, I don't know what the interns look like. Human resources handles all that. The ones they hired happened to be attractive women; I had nothing to do with that."
"But they're trying to prove you did," Pearl says. Tony nods. "Do they have a case?"
He leans his head to the right and then to the left and looks to be deep in thought. "No. Maybe."
"Tony!"
"I may have been involved with an intern or two in the past, but that's all behind me. You've met Pepper, I'm sure," he says before tapping on his phone again. "Don't worry, I'll have you work with my legal team. It'll be fun."
Apparently Pearl didn't look too convinced. She sighs. "Right. Fun. Why didn't you just settle? You have the money."
Tony's brow furrows. "Settling would imply I've done something wrong."
"What if you lose?" Pearl asks.
"Then it'll be a sad day for the American justice system."
It's like he's incapable of taking anything seriously. Suddenly, Pearl understands the struggles people sometimes have to go through when dealing with her wise-ass remarks.
"I have one more question," she says.
"Shoot."
Pearl gestures towards her outfit. "Do you really think me dressing like this is going to help your case?"
It would certainly give the jury a lasting first impression, and while what she's wearing could be considered quite conservative in a bar or just out on the street in general, in a courtroom it would be highly inappropriate and not what a jury wants to see, especially not on someone who's supposed to be defending their client from allegations of sexual harassment and discrimination. Of course, Pearl doesn't even know what her role in this will be and most likely she will just end up sitting behind a table as someone more competent does the actual speaking, but that might be even worse, because then she can't even prove to the jury and the judge that she deserves to be there because she's good and not just because she's pretty and wears skimpy clothing.
He shrugs. "Probably not."
"Then why not let me put my hair in a bun and wear something appropriate?" Pearl asks, annoyed.
"It's not who you are," Tony says.
"It's just clothes and hair." Sure, she doesn't feel like herself with those clothes and that librarian hairstyle, but they don't actually change who she is.
"Yeah, and the Iron Man armor is just a pile of metal."
Is he suddenly turning into Mister Miyagi or Yoda or whatever and trying to teach her an important lesson or something?
"That's totally different. There's unspoken rules about this kind of stuff," Pearl says.
He leans on the marble wall. "I don't think you care about that."
Pearl rolls her eyes. This is going nowhere. "It's stupid, but it's the way things are. All your other lawyers are dressed nicely."
"That's because they're fighting tooth and nail to get ahead and to prove themselves," Tony explains.
Pearl scrunches up her nose. Now that she's been filled in, she feels even more out of the loop than before. "And I don't have to do that?"
"This isn't your career. If you fail, your life will return to normal. You have nothing to lose."
What a weird perspective, but it kind of makes sense. If Pearl fails, nothing will change, because she didn't even ask for this in the first place. This must be what rich people feel like all the time. They can just try things and if they don't work out, it's not a big deal, because they've got all this money to fall back on. And now, Pearl has a job to go back to, and she's got money, and she's just being handed an opportunity, that a lot of people would kill for, and she feels bad for the young lawyers on Tony's legal team. This could be a big case for them. They've worked hard to get to this point, probably spending years just dealing with his parking tickets and traffic violations.
"Fine. If I have to be on this case, then you're the boss," she says firmly.
He is her boss, and she doesn't want to start blaming him for treating her differently because she's... What? Natasha's friend? Probably not, but it's the only thing she can think of, since she barely knows Tony and he should, by all accounts, just think of her as the annoying girl, who mocks his choice of coffee tables and won't stop badgering him about when the dishwasher is going to arrive. Eventually it arrived, though, only a week late. But that's it. That's about as far as their relationship extends to.
"You don't have to be. I happen to think you're capable of more than answering my emails and I think you'd enjoy it, but if I'm wrong, you're free to say no," Tony says, coming a bit closer again. He's very convincing, in a way that makes Pearl almost believe that he actually believes in her, but only almost, because he literally has no reason to.
Pearl hesitates and her gaze sweeps the floor. He's giving her an out. She can no longer pretend to be forced to do this and she's got nothing to lose. Nothing to be scared of. She looks him in the eyes. "When do we start?"
"Wednesday. I'll have someone send you all the details," Tony says with a smile and begins walking down the corridor. He motions for Pearl to follow. "I'm glad to have you on board, kid."
"You might regret it," Pearl says.
Tony grabs the wooden handle of the big front door, pushing it open. "What's life without a little regret?"
It's a rhetorical question, sure, but Pearl can't help but answer. "I don't know. Simple?"
"Who wants that?" Tony asks, walking out onto the steps leading up to the doors.
They walk down the stairs and a very familiar looking yellow Vespa, that's parked out front, catches Pearl's attention. They're not all that common, especially ones that have a plastic shopping basket tied to the back like this particular one. "Wait, that looks like my-"
Tony interrupts before she finishes stating the obvious. "I took the liberty of having it brought here."
She looks over to him and he's just standing, looking like his usual smug self with his hands in his pockets. "But the keys are on-"
She doesn't get to finish this sentence either, because the keys, that are supposed to be on her kitchen counter back at home, suddenly come flying towards her. She catches them.
Tony smirks. "Gotta run. See you later, kid. Give 'em hell."
Pearl stands there, next to her Vespa, for a good five minutes, trying to figure out if that was possibly the coolest thing ever and she's leaning towards yes. He's got people to do this kind of stuff. He can just tell someone to drive her Vespa here and they'll do it, no questions asked, because they're paid to. She wonders how much someone like that would cost. Probably way too much, and she wouldn't even have much of a use for someone like that, but at least she'd never do her own laundry again.
While she's pondering and digging out her helmet from under the seat, her phone rings. Pearl rummages through her bag to find her phone to see Sam's name and face on the screen. "Hey, Sam. What's up?"
"Hey. Don't come to work today," Sam says.
Pearl is taken aback by his weird request. It's Monday, she's basically already at work and she can't just not go, right? "What?"
"He doesn't want you to come," Sam explains.
"Who? Bucky?" Pearl asks, confused.
"Yeah. He says it won't be a proper date if you're here today." His tone is weirdly mocking, but it fits.
"What? That's stupid," Pearl says, holding the phone between her ear and shoulder as she holds her helmet in one hand and closes the seat with the other.
"Tell him that. He wants to pick you up at your house and whatever, I don't know, I stopped listening at that point."
His reasoning is actually very romantic and old-timey. She kind of gets it now. "Why couldn't he tell me that himself?"
Sam sighs loudly. "Because we don't have rotary phones."
"Right."
Bucky's aversion towards modern technology can sometimes be a bit of an annoyance. She makes a mental note to teach him how to use a cellphone, no matter how much he might resist it.
"So, I guess you're sleeping with him, after all?" Sam asks.
Sam is either seriously obsessed with this or just trying to get even with her. Either way, it's annoying. "I'm hanging up now."
On the way home, Pearl decides to stop by Barney's to pick up something to wear for her date. It's been a very long time since she's bought a new outfit just for a man, but this feels like an occasion that calls for it. With the help of a young sales girl, she chooses a gorgeous crimson red dress. It's strapless, short and unforgivably tight, making it perfect for a first date, because it'll keep her from eating too much and looking like a pig. The girl suggests a pair of black Louboutins to go with the dress, and Pearl thinks she'll just try them on, since they can't be that much better than her other shoes, and twenty minutes later, finds herself at the checkout counter with the dress, shoes, a black clutch bag and a simple silver necklace, wondering how it all happened.
In an effort to not give herself a chance to freak out, Pearl spends the rest of the day cleaning her apartment from top to bottom. She organizes her closet, finding some forgotten pieces of clothing while she's at it, washes the windows and even scrubs the area behind the stove. After all the cleaning, she takes a shower, blow-dries her hair and does her makeup, complete with red lipstick and winged eyeliner, before putting on her new, fabulous outfit. She's in the middle of putting on shoes, when there's a knock at the door. Pearl takes a deep breath, puts on the other shoe and calmly walks to open it.
Obviously, it's Bucky, and he's looking absolutely amazing in a pair of navy blue slacks and a white dress shirt, that fits him like a glove. He looks sort of stunned to see her, which is exactly what she was going for, and his eyes are exploring every inch of her being. She puts a hand on her hip and smiles. "Hi."
He stares at her before shaking it off and looking deep into her eyes. "You look really beautiful."
"Not too vulgar?" Pearl asks, jokingly, trying to not get overly excited about the sexy eyes he was just giving her.
Bucky shakes his head. "Never."
Pearl feels her cheeks flushing, which doesn't usually happen, and rubs on her shoulder. "Well, thank you, Bucky. You look very handsome."
She grabs her jacket and bag and they walk down the stairs and out of the building. Sam is waiting across the street by the car.
"Don't mind me, I'm just chaperoning," he says, opening the door for Pearl. He does his best trying to hide the fact that he's clearly not too happy to be here, but fails, and Pearl just wants to tell him she agrees. Bucky should be able to move around freely, but until Steve gives his OK, that won't happen. At least not again.
Sam drives them to a restaurant Pearl's never heard of: a beautiful little place with white tablecloths over little round tables and red velvet curtains around the windows and dark cherry wood paneling on the walls. The lighting is dim and romantic with just a few chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and there's a candle at every table. There's a small dance floor in the corner and an even smaller stage with a live band playing jazz.
The waiter guides the two of them to a table Bucky has apparently reserved, and brings them a bottle of red wine he's apparently requested earlier, while Sam takes a seat in the bar.
While reading through the menu, Pearl notices Bucky's eyes occasionally wandering off the page and landing on her chest, and face, but mostly her chest, and it's not like she's got huge tits or anything, but they're alright, and the dress makes them look even better. Pearl is definitely going back to Barney's and finding that sales girl and buying everything she recommends.
"See something you like?" she asks and takes a sip of her wine.
He looks up, kind of frazzled. "Huh?"
"On the menu?" The corner of Pearl's mouth tugs up and she can't help it, when Bucky's cheeks turn rosy.
To her surprise, he smirks. "Sure. I see something better off the menu, though."
If she had been drinking wine right then, she would've choked on it. She raises an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Mm-hmm."
He's being very forward and she's loving it. Normally, she would be put off by guys like this, guys, that are too cocky, but this is different, because she knows him and he's not like those guys. He's broken and tortured and he's totally allowed to stare at her boobs as much as he wants, because she knows he's not doing the same thing with a dozen other girls and because he still blushes when he's caught doing it. And he's not being disgusting, he's just... Well, she doesn't know what he's being, because sweet sounds like the wrong word to use, but it's definitely working for her.
The waiter takes their order. Pearl orders pasta, though she'll likely regret it when her dress starts to give out, and Bucky decides on a steak. Pearl sips on her wine and decides to ask the question she's been wanting to ask for a while now, and it's not about if he really likes her, because she's kind of beginning to believe that, but something she's been wondering since day one.
She puts down her glass. "Can I ask you, why did you look at me? When I first saw you."
"Honestly? I thought I was hallucinating," Bucky says.
What? Pearl didn't really even know what to expect, but that was definitely more unexpected than she expected it to be. Or something.
He sees her confused face and explains. "Something very bright appeared in my window. I thought it might be an angel, but it was just your hair."
Well, that makes some sense. He had been without food and sleep for a while at that point. He must've been very disappointed when the thing in his window turned out not to be an angel.
"But why did you keep looking? I mean, you followed me with your eyes," Pearl asks, tracing her finger around the edge of the table.
"Because of the way you looked at me. It was just... I was so used to seeing pity or fear. Or anger," Bucky says, not breaking eye contact. "But you didn't look like that."
Pearl smiles.
"And then you did that," Bucky says. "I looked like a mental patient and you smiled at me."
"Well, it's a bad habit," Pearl says, right as the waiter brings over their food. Her plate of pasta looks delicious and the portion is absolutely ridiculously huge.
"And then, when you learned who I was, you came in and started talking about yourself," Bucky says, almost laughing, as he cuts up into his food.
Pearl shrugs and smiles widely. "That's another bad habit."
"But you never told me about your family," he says.
"I didn't?"
She vaguely remembers telling him at least something.
He shakes his head. "Just bits and pieces."
Right, if he wants the whole story, then that's what he will get, or at least a quick summary. Pearl takes a large gulp of wine before beginning her story.
"Well, there's mom and dad, obviously. Mary and Frank. They were high school sweethearts, got married pretty young and started a family right away."
Mom was barely out of high school when they married. As a teen, Pearl thought maybe it was a shotgun wedding, but she did the math and it wasn't. Patrick was born during their first year of marriage, though, so they didn't exactly waste any time.
"Dad went to law school and eventually had his own firm, and mom worked from home as a seamstress while raising us kids."
A while back, dad quit practicing law and handed his company over to Patrick, who then moved his whole family to Ohio. It's the same firm Pearl was supposed to go work for.
"Patrick's the oldest, he's like thirty-seven, I think. He's a lawyer, too. He's got a wife and two kids. They're super cute."
It's really no surprise that they made beautiful children. Patrick's wife, Nina, is a tall, leggy brunette, who is apparently also a saint, because she agreed to move from beautiful, lively San Francisco to Gates Mills, Ohio and didn't even complain.
"Olivia is ten and Jack is eight and they think I'm awesome, because I live in New York. That's the ultimate cool factor for them."
Pearl loves all her nieces and nephews, but Olivia was the first one, so she's special, and Jack is probably going to explode when he finds out Pearl knows Captain America and Iron Man. They are both really adorable with their dark hair and dark eyes, and Nina dresses them so well, that sometimes they look like they jumped out of a Ralph Lauren catalog.
"Then there's Penelope. She's actually pregnant with her third child right now. Three kids in four years, can you imagine?"
Pearl shakes her head, making Bucky smile. Three kids in four years is crazy. Penny is five years older than Pearl and she's on the same boat as their mom regarding the whole issue of Pearl getting married and starting a family, but she's usually less vocal about it, which Pearl appreciates. Penny's kids, Grace and Zachary (and fetus), are also very dear to Pearl's heart, but they're not as fun as Jack and Olivia, because they're still very small and can barely speak, let alone be able to have a conversation. And they're messy.
"Her husband manages the hardware store in my hometown. He's a nice enough guy, I guess. Republican. I don't really know him that well."
She scrunches up her nose. She's always gotten the vibe that he just doesn't like her. It could be because Pearl tried to get Penny to leave the state and go experience something other than small town life while she was already dating Adam, but it really wasn't an attack against him, and Penny never left, so there's really no point for him to be mad.
"And Philip's the youngest. We call him Pip. Great kid. So smart. I feel so bad for not visiting. I really need to go see him."
While Pat and Penny have their father's dark hair and strong features, Pearl and Pip got everything from their mom, including her petite structure, except Pip grew to be way taller than Pearl.
"Mom was very strict and wanted us to go to Catholic school, so we did, and dad's the one I always told when I messed up."
Pearl grabs her glass and drinks. Bucky's mouth forms a smile.
"You make if sound as though you messed up a lot," he says.
"Well, not a lot," Pearl says. First, he would have to define 'a lot' for her to accurately give an answer.
Pearl realizes that while she's basically been monologuing for who knows how long, Bucky's almost finished with his meal and she's barely touched hers, but on the other hand, he's had plenty of opportunities to speak up.
"I'm sorry, I've been blabbing on and on again," she says before chomping down some of her pasta before it all goes cold. It's so delicious, she's definitely taking the rest to go. Maybe Bucky was just enjoying his steak so much he didn't want to waste time speaking. It's probably been seventy years since he's had a meal like this.
"It's fine. I like listening to you," he says, making Pearl blush a little.
Bucky looks out to the empty dance floor behind him before getting up from his seat and offering Pearl his hand. "Shall we dance?"
"Uh, yeah. Sure," she says, just a little bit surprised by this new development and takes it. The last time she danced with someone was in Italy and that was just a work thing.
He leads her onto the dance floor, and she notices the live band has been joined by a woman standing behind a microphone stand. She's got on a gorgeous gold dress, that looks lovely against her caramel skin tone. Bucky guides Pearl to place her hand on his broad shoulder and intertwines the fingers of her other hand with his metal ones. His hand is cold, like always, but his touch is gentle. The woman starts singing Sinatra's "Fly Me to the Moon" in a beautiful, husky voice, that fills the whole room.
Bucky's right hand is on her back and he uses it to pull her in even closer, and they sway slowly to the tune of the music that surrounds them, their bodies so close to one another, yet so far away.
"This is nice," Bucky says, looking down, and his eyes meet hers, and she finds herself drifting even closer, wanting to kiss him, but ultimately deciding against it, because they're dancing and she doesn't want anything to interfere with that.
"It is," Pearl says, biting on her lower lip.
Bucky grins. "I almost feel like a normal person."
Pearl lets out a small chuckle and continues looking into his eyes. His look is soft, gentle and absolutely weird, like nothing she's ever experienced before, and at the same time, so captivating she can't bring herself to look away even though it's making her breathing become shallow. There's a bunch of people on the dance floor now, but she doesn't even notice, because it feels like it's just her and Bucky and the music. She doesn't care for clichés, but this is one of those moments where the whole world fades away, and she's not sure what will happen in the future, but right at this moment, she's happy. Absolutely terrified, but happy.
Suddenly, Bucky's expression hardens and his eyes start scanning the room. His whole body feels tense, as he leans in closer to whisper in her ear.
"Do you see that man over there? In the corner?" he asks.
Pearl looks over her shoulder. There is indeed a tall, dark man standing in the corner of the restaurant. Pearl turns back. "Yeah. Who is he?"
"HYDRA," he says, his eyes still darting across the restaurant.
"Seriously?" Pearl asks, looking over again, but the man has disappeared. The last thing, like the absolute last thing she expected on her date was HYDRA showing up.
"Let's go. Now." Bucky stops dancing and motions for them to move, but Pearl is frozen in her place, still trying to process the information. His eyes drill through hers and his eyebrows raise up with confusion.
"What? We can't just leave," she says in disbelief and looks over to the bar. Sam's not there for whatever reason. She shakes her head. "Sam isn't even here."
"We have to." Bucky grabs her hand and starts walking across the restaurant, dragging her behind as he navigates around the tables, knocking over a few glasses of water. He looks back. "He'll find us later."
"Bucky, stop!" Pearl says, trying to wiggle her hand free. The whole absurdity of the situation is hitting her. "We can't just-"
They haven't even paid. Her pasta is still on the plate, waiting to be boxed up and taken home. It might not even be HYDRA. There are so many criminal organizations in New York, that it could just be a thug from any one of those. It could be anybody, really, but Bucky has decided it's HYDRA and he's so determined to leave, she can't possibly stop him, the only thing she can do is keep looking around to see if Sam would appear.
They reach a door.
"That's a fire exit, we shouldn't-" Pearl tries to reason, but Bucky has already opened it and pulls her through, out onto an unlit back alley. She manages to rip her hand from his grip, and he doesn't try to grab it again. Instead, he turns around and even though it's very dark, the moonlight allows Pearl to see the confusion on his face as he surveys the frightened expression on hers.
He runs his hand across her cheek and looks like he wants to speak, but he doesn't have a chance, when a gravelly voice behind him says something first in what sounds like Russian, but Pearl has never studied Russian, so she has no idea what he's saying. Bucky turns around, revealing to Pearl the guy from the restaurant, standing there, leaning against a brick wall with his hands in his pockets, looking like a smug son of a bitch with a smile that reaches from ear to ear. Pearl is never again questioning Bucky's ability to identify a HYDRA agent. She takes a step back as the man starts walking closer, his smile not fading. Bucky steps in front of her, as Pearl tries the handle on the door, but apparently it only opens from the inside, because why in the hell would a door open from both sides anyway? They exchange a quick look, her wide eyes meeting his determined ones.
"Run," Bucky says, and at this point, she's got no reason to resist.
Pearl runs down the alley as fast as she possibly can, as Louboutins are definitely not the best running shoes. She hears the sound of a fight going on behind her and looks over her shoulder to see Bucky smashing the man's face against the very wall he was leaning on just seconds ago, and it's gruesome, yet somehow satisfying. She slows down, and a weird thought crosses her mind. Is HYDRA really stupid enough to think that one guy would be enough to get back the Winter Soldier? If they made him, they should really know what he's capable of.
With a turn of her head, a pull of a trigger, and a bullet tearing its way through her flesh, her question gets an answer. She hears screams, possibly her own, and as the taste of blood enters her mouth, her legs give out and somebody's arms wrap around her, the only thing she can think of, is how this is definitely going straight to the top of her list of bad things men do.
