Hi everyone! Sorry it's been awhile between updates, I've started working more. Thank you so much for all the reviews, favorites, and follows! I love reviews so much and they keep me writing!
Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Not true I have two horses, but in this regard they don't apply to this story. Wish I owned Bucky.
"Waiting for you to come home is the hardest thing I've ever had to do…maybe it's because I love you."
Alana was sent out again a week later, three days after passing a physiological examination. When she left, they didn't tell Bucky. Of course he found out she was gone, he noticed when she didn't show up to visit like she usually did.
He sent her a text message, which she had taught him how to do herself, but received no reply.
So, Bucky had spent the day in the gym, beating away at a punching bag and ignoring the wrenched feeling of his gut. Just a few hours before dawn, the glass door was pushed open, and he looked up to see her walk through the doors.
"What's up?" She asked casually, as though she never left, and dropped her bag on the floor, crossing her arms over her chest. Alana looked fine, she even had on more makeup than she usually did. It was in the next moment that Bucky realized she could just have a boyfriend. She could have been spending the day with him, since Bucky was about to be cleared to move out of the S.H.I.E.L.D compound any day now. He'd gone outside, with Alana, three times in the past week.
He felt like a clingy idiot, but managed to get the words out calmly. "What's the bag for?"
She glanced at it, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly, "Just got back from Greenland." The space between his eyebrows and hairline reduced, but Bucky didn't say anything, so she continued. "Stopped by the weapons ward first though, so the bloody knife is gone."
"Am I allowed to ask what you did?"
"No." She deadpanned, grabbing the top strap of the bag and dragging it along with her as she walked towards him, taking a seat on a bench a few feet away. "But if you were, I'd tell you that I assassinated a mercenary operative."
His lips quirked upwards slightly, the nerves dissipating as he sat down beside her. "And if you told me that, I guess I'd have to say I'm glad you're alright."
"And then I'd say it was an easy mission."
"Good thing you can't tell me, we'd run out of things to talk about after that." He teased her and Alana chuckled, shaking her head slightly at him.
Once again, she had missed him while she was gone. Even in the last week, he was recovering more so than ever before. Bucky was his own person again, and according to Steve, he was more like the Bucky Barnes Steve had grown up with. Along with the return of the old Bucky Barnes came the charming persona and an ever-growing confidence in himself.
Alana felt like she was drawn even more to him; like a moth to a flame.
"You'd find something to say," She quipped back, "Yah neva seem to shut up nowadays."
"What if I told you that you look lovely all dolled up?" She didn't believe him, but the compliment still brought a blush onto her cheeks.
"I don't even have the dress on anymore." Bucky feigned offense, rolling his eyes at her. Alana's lips quirked up a little more.
"Well," Bucky stood up, holding out a hand to her, "If a dame's all dolled up, she's gotta dance with someone." She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off, "Word around town is that you're a hell of a dancer, Alana."
"So Steve told yah." Bucky shrugged his shoulders, pushing his flesh hand closer to her.
"Kid's never been able to keep his mouth shut." His dark eyebrows rose higher up his forehead, "Please? Just one dance?"
"There's no music." She pointed out, her heart skipping a beat when Bucky half-smirked down at her.
"Then I'll sing. Or just turn on that radio in the corner." Alana's lips pursed together, and Bucky pouted softly. "Please?" She caved then, reaching out and taking his hand.
"One moment." Bucky threaded their fingers together before walking over to the radio. He reached up and pressed the power button. Soft music from the 40's filled the room, the track playing from the CD Bucky had purchased the second time Alana took him out of the compound.
He turned to face her then, holding their already joined hands up. Alana rested her other hand on his shoulder, Bucky smirking again as he put his metal hand on her waist. She took the moment to study his face again.
Bucky had left a small amount of stubble along his jawline, but his hair was cut shorter again, combed back like it had been during the war.
He led her as the sound of a trumpet filled the room, and she smiled as he sang along to the lyrics. "Stars shining bright above you. Night breezes seem to whisper 'I love you'. Birds singing in a sycamore tree. Dream a little dream of me." Their eyes stayed trained on one another as Bucky moved them around the gym floor.
He spun her once, making her smile widen before he brought her back to him, closer than she had been before. It was an old trick he had always used on girls whenever he took them dancing.
She was only inches away from him, and Bucky felt like himself in the moment. He smirked, which makes her smile, and then spins her around again. As he brings her back towards him, he sneaks closer. Alana laughed softly, shaking her head as she looked up at him.
"Do yah think you're discreet, Casanova?" He blushed slightly, shrugging his shoulders as they turn.
"It was an attempt." He gives up on discreet then and slows their pace down, resting his forehead against hers. Alana's breath hitches slightly, her eyes closing. "You make me feel like myself again."
His breath warms her face, and she swallows before replying to him. "That's a good thing?"
"Mmhmm." He hums, closing his eyes as well.
"I need to tell you something." He stiffens, but doesn't make any other move, so Alana continues. "I got back a few hours ago. I was being debriefed." In an unforgotten movement, Bucky moves them across the floor. He keeps them both dancing slowly as she speaks. "I'm no longer assigned to you." The grin that was on his lips falls right away, and when Bucky opens his eyes, she's already studying his face. Looking for a reaction.
She doesn't get much of one. "So, now what?" He asks her.
"S.T.R.I.K.E Team: Delta is being reactivated. Me, Clint, and Natasha are all on standby to be sent into New Guinea. And you," She looks him in the eye, and he knows what she's going to say next, "I was told that you're a part of the Avengers Initiative now."
"They said I can help take out Hydra." His rough voice is barely above a whisper, but she hears him perfectly. "The past few flashbacks I've been able-"
"I'm not worried about that." She cuts him off, "Not about the flashbacks, I know you can handle yourself now."
"Then why do you sound like you're fretting?" She grins at his word choice, but doesn't call him out on it.
"I just don't want you getting hurt." Alana tells the truth, and it has Bucky pulling back, just slightly, so he can laugh.
"I have a metal arm and enhanced healing. I'll be fine."
"And I'm the equivalent of a kid accidently dropping a rat into the science experiment jar." Alana quips back, "A science experiment on steroids."
"You're prettier than a rat." Alana blushes and puts her head on Bucky's shoulder so he can't see.
"Thanks." He chuckles and she can feel his chest rumble. Without hesitating, he tilts his head to press a kiss to her hair, his cybernetic arm whirring softly as he squeezes her hand.
Two months later – Early September
"We've been out here for over a month." Alana pointed out, looking between Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff. Her two mentors exchanged a glance, then looked back at their younger team member, who walked a few steps ahead along the dirt road.
"She's whiny again." The redheaded Russian noticed, and Clint shrugged his shoulders.
"I told you. It's all because of Barnes."
"Will you two shut the fuck up?" She glared at them over her shoulder, her dark eyes narrowed. "Should be grateful I'm back to normal."
"I am." Natasha's statement was genuine. Even if she was in hiding for months, she had heard how bad Alana's condition had gotten.
"I think you're still mad that we had to leave before Cap's birthday." Clint mused. Alana kicked at a pebble as she passed one by, a scowl making it's way onto her lips.
"I had actually gotten him a gift this year."
"Was it from Party City again?" Natasha covered her smile with a hand, Clint elbowing her in the side slightly, "You remember that?"
"Yes." Tasha nodded.
"It was on sale."
"They were Captain America bed sheets." Clint deadpanned.
"Look me in the eyes and tell me you wouldn't have bought them." Alana challenged as she readjusted her rifle on her shoulder.
They had been in the New Guinea wilderness for the past six weeks. Their mission had been simple: find the mercenary camps and burn them to the ground. The camps had been getting restless, which then grew into out of hand.
Now though, they were finally heading to the rendezvous point to get picked up by a chopper. From there, they were going to be brought to London for a week layover before going back to the States.
S.H.I.E.L.D had staff stationed all over the globe, London being a focal point. Even though nothing went majorly wrong during the mission, all three of them were required to undergo the physiological examination and fill out the debriefing paperwork. The paperwork alone would take days to complete.
They had taken out all threatening camps, but the natives were still unpredictable, so Alana kept her rifle and pistol at the ready. She always was a bit anxious around cannibals.
Alana had dropped her guard for a few moments two weeks ago and ended up with a spear in her calf.
"You two act like children."
"Only when we're not working, Tasha." Alana smiled softly back at Natasha, who nodded her head fondly. It was the one thing that all three of them had enjoyed about the past six weeks; they were together.
As she turned back around, two flat metal plates bounced against her sternum. Bucky's dog tags hung from a metal chain around her neck, so in a way, a part of him was there too. He hadn't given them to her directly, but she had found an envelope stuffed into the bottom of her bag a week into their mission in the rainforest. Her name had been written in cursive on the front.
Bucky's letter hadn't been long, but short and to the point. He wanted her to stay safe and he wanted her to wear his dog tags until he saw her again. Bucky had explained how he would be working on furthering his own training with Steve, even introducing firearms again.
Alana wonders briefly how that had gone. If that was five weeks ago, then Bucky and Steve could have been sent out on a mission by now. She knows Steve would watch out for him, Bucky was, had been, his best friend, after all.
A sharp whistle piercing the air made Alana halt dead in her tracks, her hand instantly finding the pistol on her hip and flipping off the safety, her finger hovering over the trigger.
She looks back to Clint, who was responsible for the warning sound, and raises an eyebrow. His bow in one hand, he quickly signs 'Stay quiet' with the other before stringing an arrow. Natasha already has her gun up and ready to fire.
Alana scans the tree line to her right, looking for any sort of movement. As a branch sways opposite the direction the wind is blowing, Alana fires into the brush. An arrow from Clint follows a moment later, and she hears a solid mass hit the forest floor with a dull thump and rustling of disturbed plants.
"Run." Natasha's voice is barely above a whisper, but Alana's mind doesn't question any order that comes from Natasha Romanoff, and she's sprinting down the dirt path in the next moment, Clint and Tasha keeping up behind her.
Alana throws her body to the ground when she hears something piercing through foliage to her right. She rolls, ducking her right shoulder down to make the landing smooth before rolling up onto her knee and firing two quick shots into the jungle.
She hears another body hit the ground before she's up again, trailing behind her two comrades. It's easy for her to catch up.
Alana watches as Natasha takes down a third rogue mercenary. The redhead keeping the man at bay until she gets an opening and her booted foot collides with his head. He falls down to the ground, motionless. "Mercer." Alana shoots him in the head once, right between the eyes. Natasha nods, "Let's go."
Clint is a few yards away; bow still loaded as his eyes scan the surroundings. "I think that's all there was."
"If I had a dime-"
"Don't start, Alana." Natasha cuts the younger woman off, who grins sheepishly, but keeps her mouth shut all the same. "We have a chopper to catch."