A/N: So this is actually based on a true story. The other day, I was at anime club, and the girl sitting next to me forgot her wallet, so I had to message her to get it back to her, and then my buddy Ozhawk was like, 'that's a perfect OTP prompt!' So now I've written this. :D

Hope you enjoy!

Bucky hit something with his foot. He rolled the sole of his shoe over it and felt a roundish lump that slipped across the floor with no resistance. Furrowing his brow, Bucky reached down to touch a lacquered wooden floor and something thick and bulging made of leather. He withdrew it and held it up to the light. It was a wallet, well made and faded from frequent usage. The clasp was broken off with a piece of duct tape covering the hole. A rubber band held it closed, and it looked like there was more scratch paper stuffed inside than anything important.

It wasn't what he expected to find when he decided to get a slice of sausage and mushroom pizza for dinner, but it wasn't a shocker either. One could easily assume that the wallet's owner had been so busy enjoying their greasy, artery clogging dinner that they'd forgotten to shove their wallet back into their bag. He could understand that. Back in college, he'd once had a pizza so good, that he left the restaurant without his pants on. Why he'd taken them off in the first place probably had something to do with all the beer that came with the pizza, but it had still been one of the best meals of his life.

The waitress wandered over, a flirty smile on her face that Bucky happily returned. He wasn't so humble as to deny that he had that effect on women, especially now that his buddies at the gym had gotten him into powerlifting. He gave her his order and started fiddling with the wallet. There was no outward indication of who it might belong to. The style suggested a man, but a tiny slip of paper sticking out bore the name, 'Jane'. That could be the owner of the wallet, but it could also be the owner's friend. Or their wife. Or just a random acquaintance who had barely anything to do with them.

There was only one way to find out. Bucky eased the rubber band off of the wallet. Immediately, all the papers spilled out. Bucky cursed and gathered them together. He picked up the first one. His eyes widened at the chaotic mess of numbers and equations that met him. The handwriting was rough, yet legible. Notes scrawled in the margins spoke of something about a bridge and parallel dimensions. Bucky read on, though many of the more impressive words flew over his head. That was kind of annoying; he'd always done well when he was in school. He got As in all his subjects and graduated college near the top of his class. Science had been a favorite of his, but this was some of the most advanced science he'd ever seen in his life.

Most of the other papers were the same. A couple had no numbers, and were just general notes about due dates and schedule changes. One talked about telling someone named Darcy to stop drinking all the hazelnut coffee and to go buy her own. The one thing every slip of paper he found lacked was a phone number.

He looked at what else was in the wallet and had more luck. He found a driver's license, and Jane was indeed the owner of this wallet. Her picture was nothing special, but he didn't hold that against her. Nobody looked good on their driver's license photo, and hers was certainly better than his 'messy hair and eyes half closed' look. Among the rest of the papers was a social security card, a voter's registration card (she was an independent; he could respect that), and a few other pages of mathematics and physics mumbo jumbo, until finally, he hit the jackpot.

It seemed Ms. Foster had lost her cell phone at some point in the previous days. Her new number was written in big block letters with, 'give this to Erik' penciled over it. Whoever Erik was, it was a good thing Ms. Foster didn't give him her new number first.

Whipping out his phone, Bucky typed in the number. Six rings later, she still hadn't answered, and he was just waiting for the voicemail to come on when the receiver clicked.

"Hello?"

She had a nice voice, soft and feminine, but with a hint of urgency simmering below the surface.

"Hi, is this Jane Foster?" Bucky asked.

"Speaking."

"My name's Bucky Barnes. We've never met before, but I'm at Frank's Pizza over on 23rd street, and I think I might have your wal-"

"YOU FOUND MY WALLET!"

Bucky ripped the phone away from his ear. Boy, did she have some lungs. He was pretty sure they could hear that all the way in Brooklyn.

"Yeah," Bucky said tentatively. "I had to open it to get your number, but I made sure not to drop anything. If you want, I can hang out, and you can-:

"I'll be right there!"

The line went dead. Bucky listened a few seconds more just to be sure, but his screen had gone back to the homepage, rendering it a moot point.

She hadn't told him when she'd be there, so Bucky stayed a long time after his pizza had been consumed. He rolled the cheese shaker around the table, wishing he'd brought a book or something. He killed two minutes checking his voicemail; nothing but telemarketers and Steve wanting to know if they were at Sam's place to watch the game tonight.

The bell above the door rang, and Bucky looked up. The last few times someone came in, it hadn't been Jane Foster. Hadn't even been anyone who looked remotely like her. This time, it was a petite, lithe woman in a flannel shirt and jeans. Her hair was whipped around her face and she was breathing heavily as if from running. She bypassed the counter completely, running into the dining room. She locked eyes with Bucky, who smiled and held up her wallet.

"Hey, I-"

It seemed she was incapable of letting him finish a sentence. She couldn't hang up on him this time, but she could jump into his arms and hug him around the waist with surprising strength. He had the wind momentarily knocked out of him and held onto to a chair to keep his balance.

"Thank you thank you thank you!" She cried. "Oh my god, I don't know what I would've done if I couldn't find this thing. My entire life's work is in there."

That seemed like the kind of thing you wouldn't want to leave in your wallet, especially when said wallet didn't close properly. Bucky was in no position to offer this kind of criticism, so he held his tongue and hoped that her papers weren't meant to be in some crucial order that he'd messed up.

"Happy to help," he said. "I figured you'd be pulling your hair out trying to find it."

"You have no idea," she said. "Just my luck that I'd lose it in a place I've never been to before. I feel like such an idiot."

"I'd have to disagree with you on that one." Nobody who worked with numbers like she did could ever be called an idiot.

"Then you're a step up from my intern. She likes to hold it over my head all the times I almost forgot my notes because I was so anxious about giving a lecture." She pouted. "She also thinks she has to remind me to eat, which she doesn't, for the record. I can feed myself just fine."

"But that first part is true?"

She gave no answer, which was answer enough. Her feet weren't touching the ground anymore. She hung off of him like a necklace and seemed to have forgotten that most people didn't hug complete strangers this long. Or at all.

She did let go and compose herself, pushing the hair out of her face. He had been right that she was much prettier than her ID photo. In fact, she was beautiful. She could've been a model with a face like that. Or royalty. If she turned out to be the lost princess of some European island, he wouldn't be surprised.

"Thank you so much again, Mr. Barnes," she said. "Is there anything I can do to repay you?"

A few things came to mind right away, none of which he could ever say out loud unless he wanted to come off as a massive creep and get slapped.

"Just try not to lose it again," he said. "This is Manhattan. Most people aren't as nice as me."

"That's another thing my intern says…" she gave a weak laugh and stepped towards the door. "Well, you have my number. If you ever need help with anything science related, I'm your girl."

'I wish,' he thought. "No problem."

They never broke eye contact as she walked backwards towards the door. Bucky didn't, just waited for her to stop what she was doing and come back. She made outside, then doubled back and returned to take her wallet out of Bucky's outstretched hand.

"Need to put a chain on this thing," she mumbled.

"I could help you with that," Bucky told her. "Give me a call sometime."

"I will," she said distractedly.

Or so Bucky thought until his phone rang two days later, and her number came up on his call ID.

A/N: Another one I didn't know how to finish...

I have to get better at this.