Bucky was torn from his third consecutive night of restful sleep by the thrill, piercing sound of a smoke alarm. Startled, he bolted upright in bed, glancing to his side to alert Melody who was no longer with him.
He hurried towards the door throwing it open and instantly smelled something burning. With practiced ease, he hurried downstairs, heart racing as a thousand horrible possible situations rolled through his mind. A grenade, thrown through the window, intended for him by some unknown party. A gas or electric fire blazing through the house, perhaps it was contained for now, but that didn't mean it would last, and Melody was nowhere to be found...
When he got downstairs however , none of them were realized and his panic vanished instantly.
Melody was in the kitchen, waving a dishtowel over a smoldering, burned object on the stove. She saw him and looked away from it, eyes watering. "Sorry!" she coughed, waving at the smoking food again.
"What the hell happened here?" Bucky asked, eyes burning from the smoke.
"I was trying to make breakfast," Melody admitted as the smoke died down and her face turned brilliantly red.
"Well," Bucky said, grabbing the pan with his metal hand and tossing it into the sink. "It's defiantly done."
If possible, Melody's face turned an even darker shade of red. "Sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen. I'm just...really bad at cooking."
"I see that," Bucky said. Now that the smoke had cleared, he noticed the counter was messy as well, a large mixing bowl was resting there and the backsplash was covered in some sort of batter. And now that he was looking properly, he also noticed she had a smear of flour across her forehead. Trying not to laugh, he asked, "What were you trying to make exactly?"
Melody buried her face in the dishtowel so her voice was too muffled for Bucky to hear what she said.
"Sorry? I didn't catch that." Bucky put one hand over his mouth, but it was becoming even harder to stop the laughter that was bubbling up inside his chest. He'd never seen Melody so flustered before-and he'd managed to get her flustered on several occasions before this, so that was saying something.
She pulled her embraced face out of the dishtowel and stared at the floor. "I was trying to cook pancakes."
Any attempt at holding back laughter was smashed with that admission and he doubled over, shaking with laughter.
"It's not funny!" Melody snapped but Bucky couldn't answer, hell, he could barely breathe as it was.
"What's not funny?" Sharon's voice added to the room and Bucky dimly recalled Melody telling him she was coming to the house today. He should have tried to stand up straight and say hello like a normal person, but he couldn't stop laughing. It was all too comical, or at least he thought it was. Melody's disastrous attempt to cook something as simple as pancakes and her obvious embarrassment over her failure was just, well, funny. There really wasn't another word for it.
"What the hell happened to him?" Sharon Carter came into view, wearing a pair of old jeans and a button down blouse and red scarf. "Is he in shock?"
Bucky tried to answer but was still unable to speak past his laughter. And so, he just pointed to the sink where the burned pancakes were cooling, ribs aching as he did so.
Sharon didn't move from her spot, but she was glaring at Melody. "You tried to use the stove again didn't you?"
"Oh let it go!" Melody exclaimed, face turning back to brilliant red. "That was over seven years ago and it was an accident!"
"Aunt Peggy still get's cards from the fire department!"
"What?" Bucky burst out, staring at Melody. "What did you do?"
"She lit the oven on fire because she tried to make frozen pizza."
Bucky fell back against the counter and slid to the floor, shaking as he laughed uncontrollably. He was aware of Sharon staring at him, but he didn't have the ability to be embarrassed by her scrutiny. The knowledge that Melody had managed to light something on fire while cooking not once, but twice was too funny.
It took him several more minutes to get himself under control and he sat upright, breathing hard and he felt tears running down his face as he fought for air.
Sharon was staring at him still, a look of bewilderment written all across her face. He paused, looking back and noticing that she had the same jawline and intense eyes as her great-aunt. "Are you drunk?"
"No."
"On drugs?"
"No."
"Are you having a nervous breakdown?"
"No. Are you? You're acting weird." Sharon never interrogated him like this before.
"You just fell to the ground laughing."
"Yes."
"Over Melody's cooking abilities."
"I'd say it was more the lack of them," he flashed a grin at the doctor who scowled and crossed her arms. "Sort of funny to see that there's at least one thing in the world she can't do."
Melody's expression softened in a little bit but she didn't uncross her arms. Sharon let out a small laugh as well, but she didn't get out of control, as Bucky had done.
"Fine," the doctor grumbled, tossing the towel onto the counter. "I'll leave cooking detail to you guys."
"Probably a good idea," Bucky said, massaging his chest, trying to dispel the ache. "But in all seriousness, what do you do when you're alone?"
Melody shrugged. "I'm very good at microwaving and using the toaster."
"I don't think burned food tastes good microwaved either."
Sharon laughed. "They don't which is why I frequently bring food to her house, or come over and use her kitchen. It's nicer than mine anyways. Speaking of which," she gently pushed Melody aside. "I'm starving so Melody, you're banned from the kitchen, Bucky will be enforcing that rule while I work."
"This is my house," Melody complained, tossing back her hair which caught the sunlight spilling in through the windows and turning it burning gold.
"Yes and you'll burn it to the ground if you keep this up," Sharon said, winking as she rolled back her sleeves. Her tone was bright, joking obviously, but Melody wasn't laughing.
"Fine," she conceded, throwing her hands up and smiling. "You win."
"Bound to happen sometimes," Sharon said, smiling wider still at her friend. Melody slid around the counter to the bar stools and settled on one, her arms folding over. That motion stopped Bucky a little as he saw her hand trail up her scarred arm.
She wouldn't mind burning this place down, he realized. She'd throw the matches herself.
Bucky sat down next to her, deliberately keeping his eyes on the counter. If he looked at her, he'd probably wind up staring again and Sharon would notice for sure. He did not want to hear the lecture she'd give him about staying away from Melody. Not that it would matter now, but the agent didn't know that.
"So," Sharon said as she set a clean pan on the stove. "What sounds-?" A shrill ring of a phone cut her off and she dug into the pocket of her jeans and held the phone between her cheek and shoulder as she continued to work. "Carter, talk to me."
Whoever was on the other end began speaking, Sharon's eyebrows furrowing together intently as she listened. She continued to gather a few things from around the kitchen, silent, save for the sounds of doors opening and closing.
Bucky nudged Melody with his elbow and mouthed: what's going on?
Melody shrugged and directed her attention back to Sharon, her mouth tightening into a thin line. Bucky fought back a surge of unease. Melody only looked like that when she was uncertain or worried.
Calm down, he told himself. She always worries about Sharon.
However, just as Bucky began to calm down, there was a loud crash and he watched, as though in slow motion as a jar slid out of Sharon's hand and onto the floor. Her face was bone white, that, combined with her light hair made her look like a phantom.
"Okay, I'll let her know."
She hung up the phone and glared at Bucky and Melody, her eyes hard. "You have to get out of here," she told him. "Now."
Thanks for reading! :) (And no, not sorry for the cliffhanger!)
