Tasha was painfully aware of herself as she rode the nearly empty city bus to work. She had 20 minutes to herself and her mind, which seemed to demand she think about the events that had transpired since she left work the previous day, refused to even budge on the subject.
Had she really lost all her reasoning's and flung herself on him? What if he had reacted violently? Or worse. With Rejection.
But he hadn't and that's why she was so damn confused and happy and angry and a myriad of other sentiments she didn't want to think about. He had clung to her as much as she had him. Their passions were matched both in desperation and in skill. It was the best sex she had ever had. But really, she knew it was more than sex. It was some wholly other fucked up thing dealing with emotions and feelings. Yuck.
And then this morning! She groaned, pulling her hands up and covering her face. She'd left the warm cocoon of their bed to seek shelter in the bathroom. When she on a whim turned to see him, he had been hunched over with a pinched face. She felt her heart ache painfully, aware that she wasn't the only one dealing with new emotions. Hell, everything was new to him.
He looked so raw, so confused, and even worse, so damn gorgeous. His disheveled hair had started to wave a little rather than the straight rigid locks she remembered. His incredible plated metal hand cupped his face alongside his flesh one and she was reminded again of how lost he was.
What she had done with him was not out of pity, not because she felt bad for him. No, she felt for him. He had this horrible thing done to him and still he moved forward. He shown kindness when he could have been cruel. He was innocent, and yet felt tremendous guilt.
And she admitted finally that Bucky had somehow found the one thing to open up her heart. He had the will to live. It's something she had had to drill that into Mark, barely successful. But this dark dangerous man? He had it in buckets.
The bus slowly came to a rumbling stop, the brakes screeching loudly. She left her seat and flounced down the step feeling a little lighter and a whole lot more optimistic. Whatever she and Bucky was, they'd at least be in it together. She smiled and prepared for a long day of cleaning for the Man.
And yet, said work had turned out... strange. For hours she had felt eyes on her from time to time but assumed it was just the big man keeping tabs. Making sure she didn't assault any other stiffs but the more time passed the more she began to suspect an actual stalker. The tingle that ran up her spine, the little hairs that raised on her arms. She had been used to staring in many forms but this was eerily different.
She had just finished vacuuming the several boardrooms on the ground floor, when she looked up and saw a reflection in the dark tinted window of a tall redhead woman. She barely suppressed a squeak of surprise but couldn't stop the jerk of her body.
Whipping around, she came face to face with a beautiful woman. And a dangerous one. Tasha could feel the almost feral power coming off her in waves even as she stood not 6 feet from her. She noted the stranger had silently closed the door behind her.
"Can I help you?" She asked a bit too harshly, watching as one of the other woman's slim red brow twitched up in surprise.
"Ms. Hope. I'm here on behalf of Stark. He thinks I can train you." She said, her voice clear and silky and so utterly fake. Tasha want born yesterday though to be honest most people didn't dissect simple conversations like her. Not that this was anything but simple.
Tasha set down the heavy vacuum and crossed her arms. Instinctively she adjusted her footing. If this came to blows she'd be prepared. The movement did not do unnoticed.
"I don't need training to clean." She said sweetly. She felt the urge to test this woman as much as she was testing her. A small smirk played across her red lips, matching the shoulder length auburn locks.
"He thinks cleaning is not your true talent." The woman said, her eyes moving over Tasha's body. She bristled, trying to tramp down the biting retort. The redhead made it clear that Stark was the only one who thought so.
"He's right." Tasha paused feeling a great amount of satisfaction in the other woman eyes as they widened a fraction. "I can make a mean breakfast."
The sound that bounced through the room was deep and quiet, but true nonetheless. She was laughing? Seriously?
She was caught off guard then by a leg swiping across her feet. She nearly toppled back had she not had good reflexes. She twisted her body, letting her MMA training kick in. God bless, Boney. Landing on her hands, she pushed off the carpeted ground and flung her leg out in a powerful back kick.
The redhead blocked, but barely. Tasha had no clue what the fuck was happening but she kind of wanted to show this woman what she was capable of. So she pulled out all the stops. After the weight of her leg was blocked, Tasha used the force to whip her body back to face her attacker.
Just as she did, a fist came barreling towards her abdomen.
Right, grab the fist, twist and lift. But it was pulled from her hand just as fast. A leg attempted to knock her down again, but she was on point as she jumped back just in time, kicking her cleaning trolley out of the way. They had the whole boardroom, so Tasha figured she'd use the space.
She gracefully jumped up and over the table, feigning offense. As hoped the woman followed, lithely cartwheeling on top the long glass surface. Before the woman's hands could meet the surface, Tasha wove her hands together, using them like a human hammer, and put her entire body into throwing them down, cracking the table. The force of the woman's landing was enough to shatter the glass.
Her attacker stumbled, almost dancing down the sides of the concaved table and retreated to the other side of the room. Tasha stood ready, fists balled painfully at her sides as she focused on controlled breaths. It had been way too long since she sparred with an actual human, and even then she wasn't being attacked by a pro.
The redhead looked like she had just walked out a board meeting, not even a sweat. She brushed her hands down her long pinstriped legs and looked happily to Tasha who was panting and literally vibrating with anger and adrenaline.
"My, my, Tasha Hope. You are a surprise."
Knowing to tread lightly here, Tasha stood pensively trying to control her breathing.
"I don't know who you are," She said cautiously, realizing this woman's intention was never to hurt her. "But what the fuck!"
"That was a pretty neat trick you did there, using my body weight to control the environment. How's your hands?" She asked, walking around the table as if they hadn't just had some crazy twenty second all-out fight.
Tasha looked down, examining her hands. One had a little nick, but there was no blood, no real damage done. She shrugged, flexing the knuckles, thankful for all those boxing lessons.
She did however, see the damage done to the table, glass littered the floor and the once whole furniture was now V shaped having completely split. She groaned, knowing either she was for sure going to be fired or that she'd at least have to clean this shit up.
"Don't worry about that." The other woman chuckled, her hand out expectantly. "I actually think he'll be impressed." Tasha hesitated for only a moment, taking the woman's hand in a strange handshake.
"Natalia Romonov." She said with that little smirk.
"Le'Tasha Hope… Um, Tasha is preferred." She said shyly, aware that she'd slipped. She was just stunned to hear the woman speak so cordially and kindly after everything.
"Well, Tasha. How would you like to put down the broom and pick up a little excitement?" She asked silkily ignoring her awkwardness.
She wanted to roll over and laugh till her stomach hurt. Seriously? As if she didn't have enough excitement in her life? As if this was the strangest thing to happen to her that very day?
No, sleeping with an amnestic ex-assassin with a superhero BFF took that spot.
The other woman raised her graceful hand to her ear and her eyes drifted to a spot over Tasha's shoulder. "Agreed." Was all she said.
"Mr. Stark will give you the rest of the day off. Paid of course. He only requests you take into consideration the offer." She smiled, but Tasha could now see the hard glint to the woman's eyes. The little shine that everyone who had seen and done things they regret have hidden deep in their soul.
She found a little bit more respect for this woman.
Tasha nodded, not saying another word. A lesson she took from Bucky. Sometimes the less that is said, conveys more. She left the room and the woman briskly, ignoring the few suits who lingered outside the windowed room. She held her shoulders straight and marched on, a small smile playing across her lips.
She'd just been asked to become one of these douche-suits. But the idea… was sort of appealing, especially if it involved Natalia. She did wonder what Bucky would think. It might be better for him. Maybe she could even learn about memory recovery and help him even more.
The whole ride home, she sat perched on her seat going over the pros and cons of working for Stark. She had never intended to be a cleaning lady forever, and she did have some basic skills for the job.
She was so full of hopeful energy that she could barely contain the "Bucky!" she called as soon as she walked in her apartment.
And then the sinking pit in her stomach started to form. "Bucky?" She called, moving from the kitchen to the living room.
This time she whispered, "James?"
The hum of the ceiling fan was the only sound, buzzing softly.
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-MoonandWinter