Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.


Green-Eyed Monster

He was in a dark, shadowy corridor lined with doors. Somewhere in the building, he could hear muffled sounds of passion; a feminine voice moaning and sighing, answered in kind by a deep baritone. They sounded somewhat familiar. Frowning, Bucky opened the door nearest him, but found only an empty room. Slowly, he made his way down the hallway. The noises persisted as he drew nearer to the end of the hall. He opened the door to his right and found another empty room. The sensual moans got louder as he slowly pushed open the door to the left. He froze at the sight of Nyssa entwined in Marquis' arms, panting and gasping in ardor. Both of them paused, panting, and looked over at Bucky staring dumbfounded in the doorway. Then they began to laugh.


Bucky awakened feeling rageful. He sat up in bed and looked over at his wife, slumbering peacefully on the other side of the mattress. Jameson and Brooklyn had climbed in beside her and were snuggled in, fast asleep. After glancing at the clock, he decided he might as well get ready for the day. He was scheduled for meetings at the UN all morning and afternoon. He stepped in the shower, letting the warm water run over his body. He tried to wash away the image of Nyssa with Marquis, but it lingered in his mind, just as their laughter echoed in his ears.

It was just a dream, he reminded himself as he drove through the early morning traffic. Still, he was having trouble dismissing it. Could it be? Nyssa and Marquis had been spending most days together for the better part of a year. Maybe the distance that had grown between her and Bucky had been because someone else had captured her affections. No, no, she wouldn't do that, he argued with himself. He trusted her. But then, she trusted him, too, and he had gone and kissed Laura. Perhaps Nyssa had fallen to her own moments of weakness.

By the time he arrived at the UN, he was still feeling unsettled, having argued with himself the entire way there. The first meeting of the day was tech focused, with discussions of what types of technology would be needed for interstellar espionage and warfare. Tony made a presentation on the prototypes and projects he was developing. In the background, Scott ran the slide show and projector. Sitting next to Steve, Bucky had more than a few moments of wonderment at what was possible now. The lights came up, and Steve shook his head.

"What a time to be alive, eh, Buck?" he commented. Bucky grunted distractedly, but nodded his agreement. Natasha had a long list of requisitions for Tony to begin development on. Bucky found himself impressed, but had nothing else to add. Instead, he sat silently, mulling over the attack from the day before, imagining possible future attacks, and ruminating about his dream. Could it possibly have any basis in reality? Was his subconscious trying to tell him something? By the time they adjourned for lunch, he still found himself at loose ends. Lost in thought over his lunch, he wasn't paying attention to the discussions going on around him.

"Earth to Barnes, come in Barnes," Natasha called, touching his arm. He blinked, startled.

"Sorry, I'm… a little preoccupied," he muttered.

"And no wonder, with Nyssa being attacked yesterday," Steve mentioned, coming to his friend's defense. Natasha looked shocked.

"Attacked?" she repeated. "How did I not know about this?" Bucky gave her a sidelong glance.

"We decided against taking out an ad in the paper about it," he said dryly. She gave him a scornful look in response.

"Is she okay?" Scott asked solicitously. Bucky hesitated, then nodded.

"She's a little rattled," he admitted. "We all are. Someone with a vendetta against the Winter Soldier tried to kidnap Nyssa and the twins." There was a moment of stunned silence, then murmurs and exclamations up and down the table. For most of them, that was their worst fear – a nemesis harming their loved ones in retaliation. The remainder of the meal, they mostly left him alone, giving him space to cogitate and ponder, mentally wandering through ever more lurid and graphic scenarios. His mind hurtled from images of Nyssa and the twins lying dead in pools of blood to vivid imaginings of Nyssa and Marquis engaged in various lewd acts. He set his fork down on his nearly full plate, his appetite abandoning him completely. Scott gave him a sympathetic look.

"Hey, if it helps at all, I wouldn't want to be the guy who messes around with your wife," he mentioned. Bucky frowned at him. Had he heard something about Nyssa and Marquis? "I'm just saying," Scott continued, taking a mouthful of food from his plate. "She's way more formidable than she looks. I'm sure the kidnappers had no idea what they were getting into when they tried to nab her." He chewed, staring thoughtfully off into space, then swallowed and shook his head. "I mean, I'd still hate to be in your shoes. I can only imagine how I'd feel if someone threatened Cassie. Or Hope. Or Maggie, even. I mean, yeah, it didn't work out between us, and I was really hurt when she stepped out on me, but I still care about her. I don't wish her any harm." Bucky gave Scott a long look. Steve gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder, then stood. The others were finishing up their meals, and the table was starting to clear out. Bucky glanced around. He and Scott were the last ones left at the table. Impulsively, he leaned forwards.

"Did you suspect anything?" he asked Scott. The other man's expression became startled.

"Suspect anything?" he repeated blankly. Bucky gave him a pointed look.

"When she was… stepping out on you," he prompted. "Did you suspect it before you found out?" Scott took a deep breath, his expression pained.

"I mean, I knew things between us weren't good," he admitted. "I knew she wasn't happy with the situation, the trouble I got myself into. Maybe on some level, I had a hunch. You know, looking at it in retrospect. But it still came as a shock. That wasn't the kind of person she was, so I never dreamed…" He shook his head. "But I guess, given the right circumstances, even the best people can make the worst kinds of mistakes." He stood up. "I better get going. My next meeting's in ten minutes." Bucky watched him go, feeling not at all comforted by Scott's revelation. Getting up, he dumped his food into the garbage and put his tray away.

"Trying to figure out if Nyssa knows?" He snapped his head to the side to see Natasha leaning casually against the wall with a smirk on her face, arms folded over her chest. He swallowed and did his best to rearrange his face into a blank expression.

"If Nyssa knows what?" he queried innocently. Natasha gave him a knowing look.

"About you and Laura," she replied smugly. Bucky's heart nearly stopped.

"What? How?" he gasped. Natasha's smirk faded, and her eyes widened slightly.

"You know I never reveal my sources," she reminded him. "But you just confirmed it." She shook her head at him. "I was hoping it wasn't true. I had a better opinion of you than that, James." Bucky swallowed hard.

"So, who else knows?" he managed, his mouth suddenly dry.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she smirked, then shook her head. "I won't give you that comfort. Not this time. Let's just say… not as many as could know." He frowned.

"So, you want something from me to keep it under wraps? Is that the idea?" he croaked.

"I'm not planning to resort to blackmail," Nat assured him. "Though it wouldn't kill you to be nicer to me." She took a step closer to him. "Given Nyssa's abilities, she probably knows already. If not, she'll figure it out soon. She deserves to hear about it from you, not the rumor mill." His stomach lurched. Natasha had a point. Still, there had to be a way of keeping Nyssa from finding out. Of course, if she truly was involved with Marquis, as he suspected, she couldn't be mad at him for a simple kiss with another woman. He resolved to find out.


"Sturdy, you got a new cellie." Sturdy rolled over in his bunk and gazed dispassionately at the man walking through the door to his cage. He was of average stature, with dark hair and eyes. He did not seem intimidated by being in prison; Sturdy guessed it was not his first time down. "Try to be nicer to this one, m'kay?" The guards laughed as they locked the door behind him and walked away. Sturdy grunted.

"Stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours," he told the new man mildly. "Cross me, and I'll make sure you prefer solitary to here." The other man gave a short jerk of his head.

"Noted." He stuck his hand out towards Sturdy. "Name's Perko." Sturdy ignored the hand, lying back down in his bunk. Perko gestured towards him instead. "And you're Kenneth Sturdy." Sturdy frowned and half-sat up again.

"My reputation precedes me, I see," he said dryly. Perko shook his head.

"Not exactly. My employer pulled some strings to make sure I ended up in here with you," he informed him. Sturdy frowned.

"Who would that be, and why in the world would they want that?" Perko grinned, and Sturdy noted he was missing a couple teeth.

"See, you and I, we share some… common interests," Perko replied enigmatically. Sturdy frowned at him.

"And what, pray tell, would those be?" he snapped. He was tiring of this man already. Perko leaned forward conspiratorially.

"We both hate the Winter Soldier," he elaborated, "and his family. Nefaria has a plan. He's going to give us a chance at redemption and revenge, all at the same time." Sturdy sat up in his bunk, leaning forward.

"All right," he admitted. "You have my attention."


Bucky could hear the music from their apartment as soon as he stepped off the elevator. Children's renditions of popular tunes blasted through the air. He opened the door and stepped into the living room to find Nyssa and the twins dancing and singing along. Brooklyn was wiggling her hips and flailing her arms on the couch, while Nyssa and Jameson cavorted on the floor, singing along to the familiar lyrics. At the sight, Bucky felt his heart lift, and for the first time that day the pit in his stomach unknotted. With a grin, he crossed the room and took Nyssa's hand in his. She gave him a startled look, as if she hadn't realized he was there, but then a delighted smile lit up her face. Falling into step with him, she adjusted fluidly, moving in his arms as if there was nowhere else in the world she belonged. He danced her across the room, then twirled her away. Keeping their hands linked, she spun in a circle around him as the music crescendoed, then swirled back into his arms as it ended. He dipped her low, and she lifted one leg with a flourish, laughing delightedly. The twins bounced around them, dancing and chanting.

"Dance with me now, Daddy!" Brooklyn requested. As a new song started, Bucky grabbed his daughter's hands and danced a few steps across the carpet. "Spin me, spin me! Spin me like Mommy!" Chuckling, he obliged. Brooklyn didn't move as gracefully or easily as her mother did, but twirled awkwardly in a circle. After a few turns, she began staggering. "Whoooa, I'm dizzy!" Laughing, he released her hand, and she took unsteady steps before collapsing on the couch, giggling madly.

"My turn, my turn!" Jameson announced, holding his hands up to his father. Bucky paused a moment, but then seized his son's hands and danced with him as well, pirouetting him in an ungainly arc around him. Brooklyn was quick to request another spin, with Jameson hot on her heels. They took turns twirling guilelessly while their innocent giggles accompanied the music. The song ended, and Jameson threw his arms around Bucky's thighs.

"I love you, Daddy," he proclaimed. Bucky picked him up and pulled him into a bear hug.

"I love you, too, buddy," he replied. With a touched smile and a misty sheen in her eyes, Nyssa turned the music down.

"You're home earlier than I was expecting," she observed. Bucky nodded.

"The afternoon meetings weren't as long as I anticipated," he confirmed. "How was your day?" Nyssa shrugged.

"Uneventful, thankfully. Brooklyn and I had a long discussion about what to do about big feelings, and we all practiced some meditation techniques," she informed him. Bucky nodded.

"Good. That reminds me." He gestured. "Brooklyn, come with me." He held his hand out to his daughter. Obediently, she slipped her hand into his.


Brooklyn looked around with wide eyes as he led her into his workshop. He still sometimes escaped here when he needed time to himself, but he hadn't brought the children with him. There were too many sharp blades and spinning bits to be a safe space for a curious toddler. He brought Brooklyn over to where he had piled the pieces of coffee table.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked her quietly. Her shoulders sagged.

"The table I broke," she admitted.

"Did you know I built this table?" he asked her. "I worked very hard on it. I was very proud of it." She looked up at him, tears welling in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she said sincerely. "I didn't mean to break it." Bucky nodded.

"I know you didn't," he reassured her. He looked down at the wood. "It's still broken, though." Brooklyn sniffled. Bucky crouched down in front of her and gently wiped the tear that trickled down her cheek. "Sometimes, even if it wasn't what we intended, we make mistakes. We break things. We hurt people. We all do it. Mommy makes mistakes. I've made lots of mistakes." Brooklyn regarded him with wide, watery sea-blue eyes.

"Have you broken tables?" she asked in a stage whisper. Bucky chuckled softly.

"I've done a lot worse than that," he admitted. "And even if we didn't mean to, it's important to take steps to make it right. I think you're big enough now. You're going to help me fix the table. Okay?" Brooklyn nodded, straightening up and squaring her shoulders. Bucky turned some music on, lower than he usually would if he were working alone, and commenced her first lesson in woodworking. He showed her how to read a tape measure, discussed their plans for repairing the table, unveiled the secrets of the hammer, sandpaper and screwdriver. His hands patiently guided her smaller ones, and took over when her child-size store of focus scattered and vanished. Two hours later, they stood side by side and admired their handiwork. While the repair wasn't invisible, it was presentable. Bucky contemplated painting gold along the repaired sections, a detail he knew Nyssa would appreciate. Since he didn't have any gold paint handy, that would have to wait for another day. He patted Brooklyn's shoulder, then rested his hand there.

"Good work, Babydoll," he said proudly. "Thanks for your help." She wrapped her hands around his forearm. He glanced down, noticing how it still took both of her hands to encircle his arm, and remembered how small she still was. With how verbal she was already, it was easy to forget that she was barely over two years old, though closer to five developmentally. He picked her up and playfully touched the end of her nose with his pointer finger. "Let's go see if dinner is ready." She nodded, wrapping her little arms around his neck and leaning her head against his shoulder.


Dinner was stir-fry with vegetables from their balcony garden and chunks of a substance Bucky would have sworn was chicken, though given how happily Jameson ate it, likely was not. It was surprisingly tasty. After eating half her plate, Brooklyn slipped out of her chair and disappeared down the hall into her room.

"Brooklyn, come back and finish eating!" Bucky called after her. She peeked out of the door at him.

"I'm done. My tummy's full," she informed him, then disappeared again. Jameson shoveled one more bite of food into his mouth, then followed his sister. Bucky sighed and scraped the last of the food on his plate onto his fork. Nyssa smiled at him tiredly. Standing up, she began clearing the table.

"At least she finished before she left the table this time," she observed. Bucky shook his head and stood. Wandering down the hall, he peeked into the twins' room to see both playing happily. It was a rare sight lately; between their mother being ill and having their lives turned completely upside down with the quarantine, one or both needed attention and reassurance almost constantly. But tonight, they seemed content to play together, at least for the moment. With a half-smile, Bucky turned and meandered back towards the kitchen. Nyssa was at the sink, cleaning up the pots and pans from dinner. He paused as he noticed a few sheets of paper stacked on the counter. Frowning, he picked up the one on top. To whom it may concern; I have had the privilege of employing and working with Marquis Persad for almost two years. I have found him to be a conscientious employee, as well as a kind, patient, attentive and compassionate person… Bucky frowned as he scanned through the letter singing praises of the other man. The family time had lulled his suspicions into complacency temporarily, but now they came flooding back in a rush of jealousy.

"What's this?" he asked. Nyssa half-turned towards him.

"Oh, those are letters of recommendation. Marquis is applying to teaching programs. I thought perhaps I could help him out a little. My name should still carry a little weight; some of them use my textbooks in their psychology programs." She rinsed off the pot she had finished scrubbing, her fingers quickly inspecting the inside for any missed spots, then set it in the dish strainer. "If you could help me address the envelope, I'll drop it in the mail tomorrow."

"This is quite the glowing recommendation," Bucky noted. "Attentive… responsive… faithful…" He read a few of the adjectives from the letter, feeling his resentment grow. Nyssa paused in her cleaning duties, turning towards him with a puzzled look.

"Yes, I wanted to reference both professional and personal opinion," she explained. "Since he would be working with children as a teacher, character seemed relevant."

"One would almost question what kind of relationship the two of you have," Bucky noted. "Judging by this letter, it seems rather… intimate." Nyssa frowned, suddenly becoming very still.

"One would question?" she repeated blankly. "Are you accusing me of something?"

"I just want to know," he said slowly, "what exactly is the relationship between the two of you?" Nyssa stood frozen; her expression unreadable for a long moment. She began to shake her head.

"You think that I'm sleeping with him," she realized out loud. Anger began to cloud her features. "I can't believe you would accuse me of being unfaithful to you." Bucky folded his arms over his chest.

"That doesn't answer the question, though, does it?" he noted. "So, are you?" She stared at him disbelievingly, then began to laugh mirthlessly, echoing the sound from his dreams last night. His ire rose. "Is this a joke to you?"

"If it's a joke, it's a cruel one," she returned bitterly. "I tell you no, I have never cheated on you, but do you even believe me? I laugh because you could not be further from the truth." Throwing the washcloth into the sink, she stalked down the hallway. "Who wants to go to Menchie's?" she called.

"Me, me, me!" Both twins chorused. Brooklyn jumped enthusiastically into the hallway, waving her arms. Jameson was not far behind, eyes alight. Nyssa smiled at her children.

"Great. Go get your shoes on, and we'll go get a treat," she instructed them.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Bucky growled as she crossed back to put on Darshan's working harness. "We still need to discuss this." She shook her head.

"There's nothing to discuss. The kids and I are going to get some frozen yogurt," she informed him. Her tone was light, but he saw her hands shaking as she buckled the straps on the dog. "If you get tired of gnawing on your petty jealous fantasies and decide you want something tastier, you are welcome to join us a little later."

"So, you're walking out on me?" he asked roughly. She straightened, the color draining from her face.

"I am giving you some time and space to come to your senses," she said evenly. "I don't intend for this to be the end of… anything. If you decide that's what it means…." Her voice caught, and she looked away, shaking her head. Before he could reply, the twins emerged with their shoes on.

"Ice cream, ice cream!" they chanted. Nyssa smiled at them, brushing a tear from her cheek.

"Ice cream, yay, let's go!" she cheered, her tone falsely bright as she steered them towards the hallway, Darshan at heel position. Brooklyn paused at the door.

"Daddy, aren't you coming?" she asked.

"Maybe later," Bucky said carefully. "I have… some stuff to do here first." Brooklyn accepted this, and followed her mother and brother out the door. Bucky took a deep breath to steady himself. His gaze fell on the letters of recommendation on the counter, and he picked them up, an idea taking root in his mind.


Fifteen minutes later, he was across town, staring at an unfamiliar door. He hesitated, for a moment considering that this might not be the best idea. His resentment dismissed the thought. He raised his hand and knocked. Marquis answered the door. Surprise registered on his handsome features, but he smiled.

"Mistah B, to what do I owe the pleasure?" he rumbled. Bucky held up an envelope with Nyssa's letters of recommendation inside.

"Nyssa said you were applying to colleges, so she has letters of recommendation for you," he explained. Marquis' eyes widened, though a shadow of confusion lingered over his eyes.

"That's very kind of her," he said. "But why did she send you to bring them?"

"Well, she's busy with the kids," Bucky explained. "But also, I had something I wanted to discuss with you. Can I come in?" Still looking perplexed, Marquis nodded, backing up and gesturing for Bucky to enter with one of his upper arms. With a forced smile, Bucky did so, feeling ever more conscious of the weight of the concealed revolver at his hip.


Thanks to DarylDixon'sLover, karina001, SomebodyWhoCares, Qweb and my two lovely guests for reading and reviewing!