When we landed, Bucky showed just how supersoldier he really was by not only manhandling ALL our combined luggage - READ: all of MY luggage and his ONE measly bag - while holding tight to my hand and winding through the crowd in the airport. He didn't rush, keeping pace with MY short ass legs, making sure that I didn't get yanked along behind him at a clip that would pull my arm out of its socket, but he clearly had a single-minded purpose to get out of the airport and on the road to - where?

In a taxi, I think he finally realized that we had options for a final destination - his place or mine?

"I've never seen your apartment," and that settled it, Bucky gave the driver his address and we were on our way to his apartment and it was his turn to fidget. "Bucky?"

"I didn't pick it out," he was explaining as he helped the driver get my things out of the trunk, the drive had been mostly silent - not tense, but he'd been less than calm. "When I agreed to therapy -" Another part of his pardon, I nodded, taking his free hand in mine and linking our fingers. "It's not as homey as your house," he sighed, brow furrowed as the taxi pulled away, abandoning us and our things on the curb in front of his building.

"I understand," I bit my lip, and considered how to salvage my push to see his apartment that he seemed less comfortable with now that we were stranded at. "I could always order us an Uber?"

He chuckled, looking down at me. "No, I'm being stupid, aren't I?" I shook my head, no he wasn't, he was just being unsure. "Come on, let me show you my very utilitarian apartment." He managed to grab the bags without releasing my hand, a feat that he would forever impress me with, and with a deep breath to steady himself - we entered the building.

Bucky's apartment wasn't bad, but he was right, it wasn't really HIS. I smiled when I saw the folded blanket on top of his pillow on the seat of his chair in the living room. The television that I knew he'd keep on while he slept on the floor next to it. But none of the rooms I walked through had his personality stamped on them.

There weren't any pictures of him and Steve - or him and Sam for that matter. His apartment wasn't all that different from the hotel room we shared in Delacroix, really.

"Well?" He was watching me as I wandered, keeping his distance, but studying me as I looked around. "Is your curiosity sated?"

"My my, Bucky, you do have a lovely vocabulary." I teased, my eyes flicking to his and my lips curling into a smile. "You sleep here, but where do you live?"

His lips were twitching as I came closer, and when I got near enough for him to reach out - he did, pulling me close and nudging my nose with his. "Wherever you are, Brooke." My heart pounded, thinking that not only was the answer perfect, but it was what I wanted to hear - an answer to a question I hadn't asked, that I hadn't had the courage to ask YET. And then his lips brushed mine and I was ecstatic that we weren't on the plane anymore, that we were alone and on firm ground.

Bucky was holding me on his chair, his blanket wrapped around us as we caught our breath. His fingertips were tracing patterns on my bare skin, and I was immeasurably happy.

"You'd move in with me?" I wanted confirmation, and being held on his lap after making the likelihood of him being able to make eye contact with his neighbors without SOMEONE blushing more than difficult I felt pretty certain of my chances.

"Is this a hypothetical question, Brooke?" I tilted my head back, hating to leave the warmth of his chest, but wanting to see his face - not a terrible trade off. He was smirking, but he was also waiting.

"No, it's an honest to God offer and question, James Buchanan Barnes." I stared into his eyes. "Would you like to live in sin with me?" My fingers traced the sharp lines of his cheekbones and full lips, giggling when he snapped at them with his teeth. "Is that a 'no'?"

He sat back and studied me, licking his lower lip and distracting me for a moment with the slight movement. "I don't think I could say no to you about anything," his lips quirked into a smile. "Living in sin?" His eyes narrowed, "should we stock up on candles and warn the local church?"

I was laughing as his hand cupped the back of my head and pulled me closer to seal it with a kiss, and once we started kissing - well we got the sinning started early.

My cell phone ringing broke in during our dinner - delivery from a nearby Chinese place, eaten on the floor because it was strangely comfortable.

"Connie," I was shaking my head as Bucky held out a bite of chicken for me to eat. "Yes, Mother, we're in New York."

"You could call or text," she was muttering, but it was more teasing than anything. I had her on speaker, but she was less testy. "Hey, Bucky."

"Hey, Connie," he was grinning at me, and clothed now, which was a pity. "Guess I'll be meeting you soon?"

"We can hope," she said in a tone that clearly told me I would be expected to make that happen soon. "Are you guys at Brooke's or -"

"We're at Bucky's," I answered, looking around the apartment, but Bucky rolled his eyes. "For now." I shook my head again as he fed me another bite. "We're eating can we -"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Connie was not in the mood for our cuteness. "Call me when you get back to the neighborhood, you turd."

"I will, love you," I swear I could hear her rolling her eyes at me through the phone as she repeated my parting. "I think she's irritated with me."

He was grinning at me. "Nah, she's just not in the mood to listen to us and our," he leaned closer and kissed me, making me forget about food. "We're going to make most people sick on their stomachs." He murmured as he pulled back. "We're sickeningly sweet."

"Are we?" I shook my head with faux disbelief. "I don't see it," wrapping my arms around his neck. "I mean, me and you," brushing my nose against his before nipping at his lip to get him to chuckle. "Sweet?"

His arms went around my waist and yanked, pulling me onto his lap and getting a squeal out of me. "You might be right, maybe we aren't sweet." He started a slow tour down my neck, his stubble creating a glorious friction and causing my breath to catch. "What word would work for us, Brooke?" His words vibrated against my skin, but I couldn't think of one, now while my brain was busy thinking of how best to get us both bare skinned and joined again - you know important things.