Because it's Valentine's Day... and I'm feeling amused and romantical...
It was just an idea, really. Nothing more than a silly little thought that snowballed into something… more. Something possible. And before she knew it, Tessa's born-from-boredom thought experiment – If only I could heal like them – had turned into an actual, albeit only partially thought-out, plan.
"Sort of," she muses with a shrug, running her finger lazily over the rim of her tea-filled mug. Natasha steps forward and pours some more nearly boiling water into her cup to freshen the drink. "Plan's probably not the right word," she admits, giving her friend a quick nod of thanks.
Steve – who's still dripping sweat from his run and chugging water by the sink like it's going out of style – just raises his brows in interest. "Okay," drawls out. "So, what is it then? You obviously called me down here for something," he states, a bit of impatience taking over as his eyes bounce around the bustling common room.
Tessa pulls her bottom lip in between her teeth, working it nervously as she sits further upright on her stool at the breakfast bar. She too chances a quick glance around the room, watching as the few remaining support team members – most of whom just almost died on their Cap-led run and then followed him in here out of sheer, unwitting force of habit – hobble pathetically out the door. "Well," she starts, allowing her lip to pop back in place as the final stranger leaves the room. "See…" she hesitates, brow furrowing as she works to find the right words to describe the proposal. "It's all highly theoretical at this this point. Experimental."
A hint of confusion – and concern – pulls at his features and his eyes tick up to find Bucky, who's standing silently at Tessa's side, arms crossed tightly over his chest. He looks back down to the nervous-seeming doctor. "Experimental? Is that… dangerous?"
She shrugs and lets out a long, deep sigh. "Probably not. Not really." Another shrug. "Maybe."
Bucky's forehead wrinkles, his countenance shifting into a grimace. "You didn't tell me that. You didn't say it'd be dangerous."
She casts a quick glance over her shoulder at him. "It's probably fine. Just… you know, any time a foreign culture is introduced into a body there could be… reactions. Graph-versus-Host Syndrome or rejection…" She gives another subtle shrug and lets a small, crooked smile split her face. "But don't worry, love bug. I know what I'm doing."
Bucky rolls his eyes, the worried set to his chin diminishing as he does so. "It's theoretical and experimental, but you know what you're doing," he mocks thickly, dropping heavily onto the stool by her side.
Steve's head quirks, amused grin blooming, as he steps over and leans his elbows onto the breakfast bar across from them. He glances at Bucky and intones lightly, "I'm sorry. Did she just call you love bug?"
Natasha turns to him, pressing her hip into the granite countertop as she too leans into the bar. She softly blows a cooling breath over the top of her steaming mug. Tea. She's honestly not a fan. But they're all doing their part to look out for Tessa – to keep her on a more healthy track – so that she hopefully won't have to spend another week in medical. So their shared drink this morning wound up being rooibos with a hint of cherry instead of the typical dark-like-her-soul coffee. She peers over at Steve through the thick steam and mutters blandly, "We're trying some things out. Looking for a new handle for him."
Another eyeroll from Bucky. "She's pissed I called her dollface this morning," he says with more than a hint of contempt. "And now they're teaming up to make me lose my shit."
Tessa's voice takes on a saccharine lilt as she says, "That is a lie. Why would I be pissed about my face being compared to that of a porcelain figurine with a vapid, unmoving stare comprised of wide, empty eyes that make it utterly clear that no one is home?"
Steve snorts out a laugh. "Actually, I think I've seen that exact look from you before."
Fire. Daggers. Loathing. These are the elements carried by her stare when she turns it on the blond across from her. "What did you just say, Captain Tightpants?"
He works to stifle another chuckle, failing miserably to keep the amused smile from his face. "Captain Tightpants? Not exactly a term of endearment," he says ticking his chin up in a quick welcome as he looks past her and notices Sam entering the room.
She shrugs, swiveling in her seat to catch sight of the man making a beeline for them. "Maybe I like your tight pants."
Bucky huffs impatiently. "You better not," he tells her before looking to Steve and declaring, "You want love bug, you can have it."
Sam sidles up to the counter, pressing into Tessa's side. "What did I just walk in on?" he asks as he reaches out and plucks one of the berries from the still mostly full bowl of fruit in front of her. Bucky narrows his eyes, growling at the man when he goes back for more of his wife's breakfast.
Tessa just sighs, more than a hint of annoyance seeping out as she tosses a snake-eyed glare back at him. "You're lucky I love you, baby cakes."
Steve grins playfully over at Sam. "She's on the hunt for a new name for Buck. Apparently Jamie isn't cutting it anymore," he singsongs.
"Shut up," Bucky monotones before turning back at Tessa with a withering look. "How long is this gonna go on?"
"Until I find a name that works, angel," she chirps before turning her attention back to Steve and slapping her hands decisively on the countertop. "Okay. Anyway, butterbean," she begins with an enthusiastic tone. "All I need from you is your blood."
He cocks a brow. "Butterbean? Now I'm in this too?"
She looks him up and down appraisingly, expression shifting into a contemplative gaze. "Butterball?"
Sam bounces excitedly on the balls of his feet beside her, mouth filled with fruit. "Ooo, do me. Do me!"
Without looking back, she reaches over a steadying palm and drops it atop his hand as he grabs another blueberry. "Cool it, fruitcake."
Steve shakes his head, short chuckles falling from his lips as he watches Sam's face fall for just a fraction of a second before he shrugs and dips his fingers back into the bowl of fruit. The sweaty Captain rocks back onto his heels and shoves his hands into the pockets of his trackpants, looking once more at the woman before him. "How much blood?"
She shrugs. "Just a bit. Not enough to kill you. I really need your plasma. But if that doesn't work, I'll come looking for bone marrow."
His grin fades to an almost fearful scowl. "Bone marrow? Isn't that… painful? To take, I mean?"
"You scared, butterball?" Bucky teases with a smirk.
The frown deepens. "I'm assuming you're after the super soldier serum?" he asks Tessa, working to ignore his friend's accusation. She offers little more than a cagey expression followed by a tight nod. "Then why don't you just poke babyface over there full of needles instead?"
Natasha issues out a snort of a laugh, causing Tessa's lips to pull into a wide grin. "Oh, I plan to," she says, her tone all-business. "But the truth is, butterscotch, you've got the pure stuff flowing through your veins. And that's what I want."
"For the record," he intones, "the look on your face when you said that was creepier than any doll face I've ever seen."
Bucky lets out yet another impatient huff and reaches around Tessa to bat Sam's still-pilfering fingers away with his metal hand. The short slap is just harsh enough to cause the man to wince and nearly choke on a piece of apple. "She and Bruce think they might be able to heal her hypothalamus with the serum," he says, settling back onto his stool and finally giving some much-needed context to the conversation.
"Well," Tessa breathes out. "It's a bit more complicated than that, darling." Her face twists in something akin to disgust as she silently mouths the final word again. Darling.
Bucky snorts. "Didn't like that one?"
Her nose wrinkles. "I think it's the hard R. Bad mouth feel." She turns to him, quirking her head slyly, and croons, "Dahling," before crinkling her face again. "Nah. That's not it."
"The serum," Steve mentions, drawing her attention back to him. "You think you can use it to heal yourself?"
She lets out a long sigh. "If we can isolate the healing factor in your blood – or stem cells – then we might be able to create hypothalamic cells with the factor integrated that could be implanted in my hypothalamus, hopefully sparking adhesion. If it works, I'll heal. And if we can replicate it, then we'll be ready to treat any others we find… rescue."
"And if it doesn't work?" he asks, a piteous sheen suddenly building in his bright blue eyes.
"I dunno," she snipes. "Death?" She slams down her mug – hot tea sloshing over the side – and throws her hands up in the air, almost colliding with Sam's face as he continues to loom at her side. "More of this! More of an out-of-balance, crazy person!"
Steve straightens upright, more than a bit surprised at her reaction. "Just remember, none of us called you that."
Natasha leans stealthily towards him, issuing out in a hushed tone – though one still loud enough for the others to hear, "We're now experiencing some emotional effects from this hormonal imbalance."
Tessa rolls her eyes. "Can I have your blood or not?" she asks grumpily.
His mocking grin fades to a genuine one. "Yeah. Of course you can. You know that."
Her shoulders droop rather dramatically. "Thank you."
"Okay," he declares with a sharp nod and a booming clap of his hands. "I need to shower." He looks over at Tessa. "I guess I'll just wait for you to come at me with a needle?"
"This afternoon, if you've got time."
"For you, sweetums," he says with a wink, "I'll make time."
Sam leans back a bit and carefully inspects the woman by his side before stating, "I'd go with sweet pea, myself."
"This is never going to end, is it?" Bucky asks hopelessly.
Tessa absently pats Sam's hand and gives Steve a small, grateful smile. "Don't mind my hubby bunny. He's just overtired. First night home and I'm pretty sure he just lurked and watched me sleep all night," she says with an annoyed huff.
Natasha shrugs. "Can you blame him? Sounds like you could drop dead at any moment."
Bucky's eyes shoot wide – Sam and Steve's doing much the same despite being easily able to tell from her crooked smirk that she's only joking. Well, mostly joking. But still… "That's not funny," slips out of Bucky's tightly clenched lips as his stare slowly changes from horrified to threatening.
Tessa swivels to look at her husband. "Honeybuns, why don't you go home and get some sleep? You're kinda harshing the high I'm getting from this tea." She takes a long sip, her nose wrinkling in revulsion. "Besides, I want you fresh for the bloodletting later," she says, her eyebrows dancing up and down with delight.
"First of all," he tells her, brows raised high in a no-nonsense expression. "No to honeybuns." He unfolds his arms from around his chest and drops a warm palm to her shoulder. "Secondly, Land-o-Lakes over there is right. You look terrifying when you talk about getting at our blood."
She lets out a small chortle and turns bodily to face him. "I'll try to keep the vampirism in check. But I'm serious about you going home and going to bed."
"Baby," he utters, a chide and a plea all in one.
"Just go. Damn. I promise not to circle the drain while you're gone."
"Also not funny," he says, words reproachful as he drops his head down to hers, nuzzling briefly into her temple.
"C'mon, Buck," Steve calls out as he steps around the counter. "You heard her. Doctor's orders."
He turns his face, never lifting his head from hers, and glares at his friend. "Shut up, butterfinger."
Tessa laughs lightly, her breath warm on his cheek. "See? It's fun."
He leans in close again, his voice low and just for her. "I promise I'll never call you dollface again," he says, dropping a quick kiss to the tip of her nose before pulling away.
"Don't make promises you don't intend to keep."
"Fair enough," he says with a plaintive shrug. "Anyway, I told you already, I gotta go to the store. We're out of soap. And Ensure."
Again, her face twists in disgust. "Don't make me drink that shit."
He rises from his stool, ignoring her protest completely, and leans down to press his lips to her crown. "Be good. I love you," slips out as he pulls away and heads for the door, Steve stepping in stride beside him
Tessa smiles wide and leans back to watch them go. "I love you too, pumpkin butt!" bellowing out of her, causing both men to halt in the center of the room. Sam chokes and sputters at her side, giving her a quick, grateful pat on the back as he dissolves into a fit of giggles.
Natasha smiles slyly, raises an appraising eyebrow as Steve and Bucky both slowly turn back towards the trio. "Can you make a latte out of that?" she asks simply.
Small giggles spill out Tessa as she falls into Sam's gently heaving-with-laughter chest. "I'll take a venti!" she retorts without even turning to see her husband's reaction.
Natasha's lips form a wide O as she gives Bucky a cheeky look from across the room.
"Shut up," he bites out before she can speak, the sound of Steve's barely stifled laughter – among other things – causing his patience to rapidly wane.
Steve just gives him a disappointed glare. "Tessa's right. You do need a nap."
"Shut. Up."
He spins away from the irritable super soldier. "Very crabby," shooting over his shoulder as he saunters from the room, more than eager to finally get to take a shower.
Bucky turns again for the door, shuffling slowly in his wake. But again he stops short when he hears Tessa shout after him. "Oh, babe!" She barely even waits for him to pivot back around before issuing out, loud enough for everyone on the third floor to hear, "Don't forget condoms!"
Sam winces as he reaches for her tea, parched after his bout of steady guffaws. "Man, don't say that in here. That's like number four on the list of things you do not say in a common area."
Natasha cocks her head curiously at him. "What are the three that beat it?"
He turns to her with a serious glower, sets down the mug, and recites, counting the statements off on his fingers as he goes, "I picked up some kind of rash in Bangkok. My bathroom is wrecked. And I swear she said she was eighteen."
"Gross," is her simple reply as she spins around to place her own mug in the sink behind her. "Sorry I asked."
He whirls back to Tessa and levels a pointed finger at her. "Just don't go over-sharing all the damn time, woman. The whole damn compound doesn't need to know your business."
She shrugs and spins in her seat to look at Bucky, immediately notices the pouty, annoyed expression on his face. "Just get some," she tells him, desperately trying to hold back a teasing smile. "Or, you know, you get none."
He actually groans in response, shoulders drooping like a reprimanded child. "I don't even know what to look for," he bites out. "I haven't used a condom in over 70 years."
Sam's eyes blow wide as he slowly turns to face the man behind him. "I'm sorry, what?"
And Tessa's eyes just take on a dramatic roll. "See, that's what he meant by an over-share."
Bucky responds with little more than an annoyed grunt as he slumps heavily forward.
"So," Sam drawls out as his incredulous gaze lands back on Tessa. "You're telling me you two have never used protection? Girl, you're a doctor! You don't believe in safe sex?!"
She shrugs. "Because I was his doctor, I knew he was disease-free. And I've had an IUD since, well… since before it was cool to have one."
He pulls a disgusted face, nose scrunching theatrically. "Another over-share."
Natasha scoffs. "If we say menstruation will you leave us alone?"
"Maybe," he says with a smug gleam, plucking the final berry from the bowl on the counter.
Tessa frowns deeply, face transforming into a petulant pout. "I don't wanna talk about menstruation either. It's been so long since I've had to deal with that. I've been working on the same box of tampons for over a year." She turns back to the slumped man at the center of the room, shows him a pitiful expression that rivals his own. "Pick up some tampons too."
"Yep. Okay," Sam says, throwing his hands up in surrender. "I'm out." He shakes his head and slowly backs away, his expression and antics both pulling a short laugh from Natasha.
"Why'd you have to ditch the IUD?" she asks her friend.
Tessa shrugs. "I gotta be off the hormones for a while… trying to restart my system." Then, with a deep sigh and an almost accusatory glance up at Bucky, "So, somebody's gotta wrap it up if he wants any."
Sam nods, looming now just over Bucky's shoulder. "Sure. Sure," he says, raising a sly brow. "Super sperm, huh? Surprised that IUD was enough."
"Okay," Bucky barks out, stepping back and grabbing Sam by the shoulder. He spins him around towards the door and gives him a small shove. "Now you leave."
He sputters, nearly tripping over his own two feet as the super soldier marches him from the room. "Wait. Wait, man. I thought you needed help. You know, with figuring out what kind of gloves to buy," he intones with a wink.
The next shove he gives him is much harder and it sends the man hurdling into the hall with a small yelp. "Get out," he mutters simply before tossing a glance back at Tessa. "I want you to know, a part of me died today."
She barks out a laugh, the chuckle growing into near hysterics as she takes in his forlorn expression, his sad eyes… the sudden dark and tender hand reaching out to grasp his shoulder. "Don't worry, man," Sam tells him, his mirthful voice low, almost conspiratorial. "I got you."
Natasha shrugs vaguely as she collects the dishes from the counter. "Sounds like it'll be a nice bonding experience for you guys."
000
"I can't believe you actually followed me here," Bucky snarls at the man as he pulls up alongside him at the drugstore entrance.
Sam sniggers under his breath, patting Bucky's shoulder. "Relax, man. I needed some stuff of my own."
He gives him an annoyed – and suspicious – look, fully expecting him to start into a diatribe about his own need for condoms. Or lube. Or whatever else he could think of mentioning that would make Bucky want to run and hide. "I didn't ask," he mutters, eager to shut that shit up before it begins.
Again, Sam laughs. "I ran out of Advil," he states simply. "You super soldier types… you forget what it's like to be normal. We hurt, man. When you throw us around the mat like a sack of potatoes, it hurts."
Bucky snorts out a small laugh. "Maybe if you stopped dropping your guard, you wouldn't get thrown down as much."
"Hey, I'm trying to set an example for the newbies. Show them what happens when you do drop your guard."
"They aren't that new anymore," he snipes, referring to the support team and at the same time trying to block out an image of one former team member in particular.
"Yeah, yeah, fair enough." The two walk side by side in steady strides towards the rear of the shop, cutting down a wide aisle bursting with reds and pinks – festive stuffed animals, cutesy mugs and socks, and obnoxious trinkets galore. Sam swipes at the paw of a giant white teddy bear hanging precariously over the side of a shelf. "You believe all this stuff?" he asks, earning no more than an evasive grunt in response. "Valentine's Day," he breathes out with a heady scoff before leaning over and grabbing a small heart-shaped box of chocolates from another shelf. "Ooo, turtles."
Bucky glances back at him with an amused smirk. "Buying those for yourself?"
"'Course," he says with a shrug. "Why not? I'm worth it."
A short chuckle escapes him, shudders his shoulders a bit as he shakes his head. "Sure you are," he intones under his breath.
"What are you two doing anyway?" he asks vaguely, suddenly distracted by an even bigger box of caramel-pecan candies.
Bucky's feet still, stopping short to wait for Sam to finish his investigation. "What do you mean?"
He throws a confused glance over his shoulder. "What do you mean, what do I mean?" Bucky just pulls his face into a confounded – and irritated – scowl. "For Valentine's Day," he shoots out as though it's the most obvious thing in the world.
"Oh," he utters simply. "Yeah. We don't do that."
Sam slowly spins to face him. "What do you mean, you don't do that?" he asks, tone deep and deliberate.
His brows pull together into an skeptical expression, blue-gray eyes shining with sudden amusement. "Are you having trouble with words today? I thought I was pretty clear. We don't do that."
"Valentine's Day?"
He nods.
"You don't do Valentine's Day?"
Another nod, this one followed by a rather pleased smirk.
Sam's eyes narrow, disbelief pulling at his features. "Bullshit."
"Yeah, exactly. It's a bullshit holiday where guys waste a bunch of money in the hopes of getting laid. I know. I bought into it for years when I was a kid."
His mouth gapes open in utter shock. "First of all," he finally musters the ability to say. "Do not call any day spent celebrating love bullshit."
Bucky snorts out a laugh. "Okay."
"And secondly, are you telling me you don't want to get laid?"
He levels the man with a dubious stare. "I was sent here to buy condoms. I don't think I have to work to get laid."
"Man, that's just…" He shakes his head despondently – "Dark." – and looks back up at his friend. "You're a dark, dark man."
He sniggers again, crooked smile tugging at his lips. "Look, most of the time Tessa doesn't even realize it's Valentine's Day. I'm lucky she looks up from her work enough to notice Christmas and birthdays. I'm telling you. She doesn't care."
He continues to shake his head – now a slow and defiant gesture. "All women care."
He shrugs and turns to continue on towards the back of the store. "Not my woman."
"All women," Sam snipes as he grabs the bigger of the two boxes of chocolates and jogs after Bucky. "And you know what else? She deserves it. Even if she doesn't care about the holiday, she damn well deserves some flowers and chocolates."
Bucky stops short and spins on him, cocks his head down to indicate the heart-shaped box in his hand. "You sure you're not thinking of yourself right now?"
He raises his chin defiantly and cocks an accusing brow at the looming man in front of him. "When was the last time you bought her flowers?"
His face screws up. "I don't know. A while."
"Candy?"
"She shouldn't be eating candy right now."
Sam lets loose a loud psh and holds out the box in his hand. "Man, she loves this stuff."
"Not the point," he mutters, turning and rounding the corner into the prophylactic aisle. He groans at the wall of contraception before him, grimacing when he realizes he actually, really, doesn't know what to get.
"She's been back for over a month. I just watched her eat half a peanut butter sandwich yesterday," he says as he steps up beside him. "You're telling me some turtles are gonna hurt her?" He stares at the side of Bucky's face, takes in his pained expression as his eyes rove the shelves of options. Then he lets out a huff and gives him a small shove, leans out in front of him to pluck a box of condoms off the shelf and drops them into his friend's hands. "If she's well enough to get it on, she's well enough to eat some damn candy." He steps past him on his way to the analgesics aisle, tossing over his shoulder as he goes, "Buy your wife some flowers and chocolates or I will."
