She woke for the first time in weeks feeling warm. There was no empty, painful hole that often tormented her in the early hours when her mind was weak. She self the loneliness of her life and she was forced to remember every person who had left her.
But here, in the warm cocoon under the thick blanket, she felt needed. She felt comfort.
Until she remembered that there was a body under here. The very fit body of a very dangerous man.
She smiled softly. He may be dangerous but he had done what no other had. Not a single person had ever held her while she cried. She hadn't trusted anyone, had never felt the need for comfort as she did last night.
She had felt such blinding rage when she opened her eyes, awakened by a strange sound, to see Bucky sitting in the spare room. His bulky body was slumped, hands rummaging through Mark's boxes.
She had seen red, blinded by a grief so strong that she lost sense of all reason.
God, she wanted him to hurt. She hit and kicked but could not damage the fucker. Not that it was him necessarily that she was attacking, but rather her own pain.
It was only after he had her pinned, her eyes too clouded to see, that she realized she was crying. That she wanted to cry. She had yet to shed a tear for Mark, instead letting the rage boil beneath her.
Now in the early morning comfort of her living room, Tasha realized that all she needed was a push in the right direction. A forced cry was a world better than the bottled up sorrow. And she had him to think, though she was still mad at his snooping. She shifted her head back slightly hoping to not wake him, so she could look at his face.
And surprise! He was already roused and staring down at her with bright blue eyes, his expression unreadable.
The warm fuzzies disappeared in a flash as all of the past few days came together. She was letting her heart make things up so she could feel sorry for him. Even though she did, she didn't want to like him. He was her kidnapper. If she wanted to get out of this alive and unharmed, she'd do best not to get too cozy with the assassin.
Without preamble she jumped from the couch and headed quickly to the kitchen to start the coffee. Tasha would probably have gone on a rampage of she went one more day without her vice.
Speaking of vices she realized she could finally shower properly. The giddy bubble of laughter was impossible to suppress as she nearly ran to the bathroom. After turning the water on she ran back out to the living room where Bucky sat, his face lowered. He hadn't moved a muscle since she left the comfort of his arm and she wondered if he was upset.
"Hey Bucky, I'm going to hop in the shower." She said cheerfully, hoping to dispel the gloomy mood. His eyes lifted to hers and she saw a flash. Some emotion she couldn't (or wouldn't) identify.
"I'll try and save you some hot water." She chuckled as she padded back down to the steamy room, peeling off the t - shirt and boxer shorts she had fallen asleep in and tossed then to the floor. She'd clean after her soak, she swore, looking at the state of her bathroom. She didn't want Bucky seeing it like this.
She laughed to herself and wondered when this... all of it, started to affect her.
But she knew. It was the very moment she had awoken in the car that fateful morning. She had looked to her kidnapper and saw a broken man who was clearly screaming for help.
Jesus, it was all downhill from there.
She let the water soak into her, the heat of it turning her skin red. She thought back on how she used to hate her skin. The children from school, those cruel pricks, had made sure she knew every day that she didn't belong. She wasn't black. She wasn't white. No one wanted to be seen with her, the mixed girl.
Now she enjoyed her color, had learned to become proud of the tanned skin. After all, this was the only body she had so she was better off learning to love it. That was a lesson her little brother taught her.
But here, in the steaming confines of her simple bathroom, she really thought about how she looked. And she kept coming back to one thing. Or, one person rather. She wondered more than ever what he thought. Damn it, Tash. Get your shit together.
Getting out, she wrapped a plush brown towel around her curvy figure. She used her calloused hand to wipe a path in the mirror in an attempt to clear it but she only saw a misty version of herself. Even in this, she was unclear.
Sighing, Tasha squared her shoulders and stood tall. She didn't need anyone's approval. She was fucking awesome… Right. But she still hesitated, her shaking hand on the door knob. Come on girl, he's just a dude.
She was out the door and heading straight for her bedroom. Easy as that. Just like before all of this chaos, she tossed off her towel and started rummaging through her drawers. Comfy pair of jean shorts, a silky tank, and a warm cardi. Boom, she'd look fly. A little nice for lounging in, by she had a guest so… you know.
On her way out, she grabbed her laptop and found herself humming happily. It was strange, this morning. She was rested, clean, and would soon be having a cup of coffee. The only thing that could make it better was bacon and eggs.
After pouring herself a cup she finally looked over the kitchen breakfast bar that separated the living room to find Bucky sitting upright, his eyes straight ahead. He looked like he was in a daze. But there was also the teeniest, most miniscule amount of pain and terror there just below the surface. She didn't know what he was thinking about but she knew she had to distract him and fast.
"Hey Bucky!" She called maybe a little too loudly by the way his whole body jerked violently. He hands were clenched and she knew it was his body preparing for battle. He'd have to get used to the fact that not everyone wanted to kill him.
"Sorry, bud. You want a cup of coffee?" She asked encouragingly. As hoped, he nodded and rose to his feet. Hot damn, he was tall. She smiled to herself, thinking about the girls from high school. They used to say, "Find me a tall, dark, and handsome to steal me away." Bitches have no idea. She's got the real deal here.
"I'm going to make breakfast too. It's my favorite meal. Eggs, bacon, hash, and toast. Simple but fucking amazing." She called over her shoulder. She really should stop staring, so to distract her pervy thoughts, she started getting out the supplies as he made himself comfortable at the table.
Or so she thought, because as soon as she turned around, she nearly face planted into a broad chest. Tasha felt a pinch of annoyance but refused to let it show. Not to him.
"Can I watch?" He asked, taking a step back allowing her room to unload all the ingredients in her arms. It hit her then that he probably didn't know how to cook. Or, at least he didn't remember. That's something that he'll have to learn, she reasoned. Him standing close will help. With the learning. And stuff. Yea.
"Sure thing. Just, make sure you watch carefully." She hummed, already feeling his presence affecting her.
She showed him the ropes of cooking breakfast, all the ins and outs, even letting him flip the bacon. Well, mostly because she always managed to get burned and his metal arm was perfect. You just wipe the oil off.
They sat and ate as she opened her laptop to cruise the web as she did every morning. He had chosen the chair next to hers rather than across but she didn't say anything. It was nice.
Tahsa was half way through eating when she found a news article. She knew instantly it was about Bucky. She read it quickly but thoroughly, aware his eyes could see everything she saw. It was about the S.H.E.I.L.D. headquarters and the attacks perpetrated by Hyrda and their weapon. A man called The Winter Soldier. She shivered, tugging the cardi closer. As she did often, she brought her legs up under as she read the distressing piece.
There was good news to be had though, as Captain America had assured the people he was personally searching for the man. She wondered what that star spangled dork would do to poor Bucky if he got ahold of him.
She peaked over her shoulder to see the man staring intently at her. He was waiting. Her heart was thrumming and she took in this information with mixed feelings. One thing, though, she had to know before they moved forward.
"You attacked S.H.E.I.L.D." She stated. It was not a question but not an accusation either. He nodded, his hair falling lose from the tie.
"Answer with words please." She mumbled, her ire rising the more she thought about it.
"I was ordered to kill the Captain. He was inside of S.H.E.I.L.D. The same time Peirce was discovered to be the leader of Hydra." He said all of this flatly, his eyes seeing through her and she sensed he thought that she would not help him. She wasn't so sure she would.
"Ok, but were you… you?" She whispered. It was a strange and stupid question but to her it made complete sense.
"No. Not how I am now." Now his violent blue eyes were on hers, though they burned with something fierce. "I tried to kill him. The Captain, even when he said we had been friends. He made me remember. He called me a name."
"Bucky?" She asked, as much a question as a plea.
"James Buchanan Barnes. He said he was my friend." He grumbled into his hands. She could tell now his head was beginning to ache by the way he closed his eyes and dug his fingers into his temples.
She left him in silence as she ran over the new information. So the guy was a friend of Captain America. Ok… that would make since if his brain was messed up, memory of the friendship lost. So, at the time of Marks death, of the whole fucking shebang, Bucky was a brainwashed hyper-soldier with a machine arm. Yikes. Talk about sci-fi.
Tasha didn't know where the trust came from seeing as she had only ever trusted two people in her whole life, but here this man sat; a man whom she should explicitly not trust. And she did. It was a simple as that.
She was going to log off when a thought hit her. The name. He said another name.
Quickly she typed it into google, not expecting much, but boy was she wrong. Pages and pages dedicated to James "Bucky" Barnes. He had a fan page, a website full of his exploits, and the even a comic book.
But she went straight for the wiki. Her heart nearly stopped dead in her chest when her eyes fell upon Captain America and the smooth smiling face of a Sargent Barnes. Her Bucky, though many, many years younger. It wasn't that he looked younger. It was, and hold on here while she hyperventilates, that he was born nearly a hundred years ago and served (and died?) in World War Fucking Two.
There was no mistaking the man that sat next to her and the one from the photo. They were identical, though now Bucky had long hair, stubbly face, and a darkness that clouded his eyes. But they were, without a single doubt, the same man. A sudden shiver slithered up her spine.
"Hey Bucky. I think you should see this." She whispered, bringing his attention from out of his hands. As soon as he saw the screen, the laptop was up and in his lap. He sat for long moments, reading. His stunning blue eyes moving faster than she thought was humanly possible. Tasha was biting her lip by the time he was done, though he sat staring at the picture, his hands shaking slightly as he gripped the machine.
Gingerly she lifted the computer and closed it, wishing she had found an easier way to tell him. She was still reeling from everything, but the look of pained confusion that covered his face hurt her heart in ways that she didn't want to think about.
"You'll figure it all out." She hummed, her hand instinctively clutching his silver one. He looked down dazed and then met her eyes. God, she wanted to cry for him. It looked like someone fucking kicked a puppy.
"I want to know more about him… about me." He replied softly, his gaze pleading. She thought about using the internet, but there were so many ways it could be monitored. She was afraid too much interest in searching his name would be a red flag. After all, she didn't know how many agencies were after him.
And then it hit her. Captain America. They were in the same team in the photographs. The Howling Commandoes. And she knew where she could get a ton of information.
"Let's get that arm covered James Buchanan Barnes. We are going to the Museum."
Ok loves. I know its been a long time coming but I felt I should warn you. Soon, (hopefully very soon) it's going to get smutty up in here. I love you all. I do, but smut must happen. I demand it.
Review and tell me what you think (also if you like smut or no)
-MoonandWinter