Chapter 20: Caught A Long Wind

One of these days, Mika was going to have to convince Bucky to start their sessions a little later in the morning.

It wasn't that she didn't appreciate this time with him - she was incredibly, abundantly grateful for it. But sometimes she wanted to sleep in a little on a Saturday morning. Maybe just once. This morning, she stumbled out of bed, starting off a few minutes later than she should have. She downed half of her coffee black, hoping the scalding temperature and bitterness would help wake her up. And while it did just that, it also left her mouth raw and burnt. She pulled on the first pair of leggings she found and whatever sports bra and tshirt were on top of the pile. Her shoes were not in their usual spot, of course, requiring a few laps of her apartment before she could pull them on. It was about four minutes past six when she finally floundered into the hallway, ponytail falling to the wayside and coffee cups barely capped.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm late." she said, fumbling with keys and straps and coffee. Bucky smirked, taking both cups from her before she could spill them all over the place. She settled down, closing her eyes and taking a breath before looking back at him. "Sorry. Good morning."

"Good morning." he responded, handing her one of the cups. He took a sip of the remaining one before grimacing, handing it out to switch. "Guessed wrong."

"What? You were wrong about something?" she asked, feigning shock as they started down the stairs. Bucky gave a brief, unamused chuckle from behind her.

"It's been known to happen." he said lowly. He was using a specific tone that Mika figured meant he was alluding to something in his past that he hadn't shared. She was always curious in these moments, but the intense desire to pry had faded over the past few months. Bucky shared things when he was ready, there was no need for her to pester.

"Not since I've known you. Now the illusion is broken. I have nothing to believe in now." she said theatrically, holding a hand to her chest in disbelief.

"Drama queen." he murmured. She turned, touching the hand rail as she moved so she could balance while giving him a shocked look that quickly turned to pride. She'd taught him the phrase a couple weeks ago, and this was the first time he'd tried it.

"Look at you, using your new phrases correctly. I'll make a modern man out of you yet." she said, refocusing her attention forward as they continued their descent. The air outside was still slightly chilly thanks to the early hour, and Mika regretted not wearing a jacket over her tshirt. In the winter, she could depend on Bucky to have an extra layer she could steal, but now that spring was full on, he was down to just the one. She had no doubt that he would pull the shirt off his back and walk around topless if she requested it - which was precisely why she didn't ask. She knew the cool air would feel much better when they were walking home from their work out.

The gym was just as empty as usual, but instead of going to the group class room as they normally did, Bucky led her to another corner that she hadn't ventured to before. Apparently a punching bag had been hanging here the whole time, and she had no idea. It seemed most of the other patrons didn't either, as the bag seemed relatively untouched.

"We'll start with this today." he said softly, sitting down on a nearby bench and pulling his journal from his backpack. He also pulled out two packets of cloth, which turned out to be very long strips.

"Oh my god. Are you gonna be my Mickey?" she asked excitedly. He paused for a moment, and she could see the wheels turning as he recognized her reference.

"I think you'll be better than Rocky Balboa." he replied, unraveling the cloth strips and beckoning her to him. "Can I see your hand please?" he asked, pulling his glove from his prosthesis. He used his left arm so often and so easily now, she sometimes forgot it was made of metal. She'd wondered multiple times how he'd gotten so comfortable with it, but decided that question was best saved for another day. She held out a hand, and he carefully began wrapping her wrist and fingers. When they were safely padded, she tapped her knuckles together, feeling the soft rebound of the fabric.

"Wow. We're being legitimate here." she said appreciatively, making him smirk.

"Only way I know." he answered, gesturing towards the bag as she laughed. His deadpan humor always got her. "Let's see what you've got."

"You want me to just...hit it?" she asked, suddenly a little nervous. She always wanted to impress Bucky, wanted to show him that she was tough enough and strong enough for his lessons. But it had been a long time since her sister taught her anything, and she knew that her skills would be subpar.

"Preferably hard." he said with a shrug, a slight grin on his face. He was sitting relatively casually on the bench, with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together. But his eyes were sharp as always from under his baseball cap, watching her every move. She stuck her tongue out at him, trying to diffuse her nerves with humor. She lined up, giving the bag a few experimental taps before winding up and hitting it as hard as she could, trying to punch a hole through it as her sister instructed all those years ago. The force sent an odd vibration through her arm to her shoulder, but it didn't hurt. It made her feel kind of powerful.

"How was that?" she asked. Bucky's eyebrows had risen slightly.

"Not bad. Not bad at all." he answered. "You used your arm a little too much. Think of it like throwing a ball, you want to use your whole body."

"Makes sense." she agreed, lining up and throwing another punch. Bucky complimented her improvement, then told her to try with her other hand. Her non-dominant hand was not nearly as strong or coordinated, and it took a few tries before she could get the movement correct. Once she had the basic forms, he had her run through various patterns, getting used to switching her feet or her hands. It didn't sound particularly difficulty when he was explaining it to her, but after a short bit her arms were burning and her breaths were a little short. She tried to make her movements quick, reacting to his words the best she could. As per usual, she wanted to impress him, make him feel like teaching her would be worth his time. And as per usual, his instructions were succinct and effective, helping her improve even faster. He was an excellent teacher.

"I believe that was a good start." he said after a while, standing up and reaching for her hand to untie the wraps. She pulled away from him, giving him a feigned admonished look.

"Wait, we're not gonna spar?" she asked, bouncing on her toes and making exaggerated motions as if she were a boxer waiting for her fight. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

"You're not ready to take me." he said shortly, making her roll her eyes and put her hands on her hips. Well of course she wasn't ready to take him, that was the whole point of their lessons. But the absolute certainty with which he spoke set off the ambitious side of her.

"What, afraid I'm gonna surprise you?" she asked with a perked eyebrow. She tried time and again to appeal to Bucky's competitive side, but he always kept himself poised and together. He wasn't baited by her teasing, he was always levelheaded. It was kind of nice, if she was honest, considering how impulsive and ready to contest she was. She needed at least one sensible friend.

"I don't want you to hurt yourself." he said. He tried to keep his neutral face, but the corner of his mouth was twitching. The longer she stared at him, the harder it was for him to keep the mischievous grin from spreading across his face.

"What if we make a little wager?" she offered, crossing her arms over her chest. He lifted one eyebrow, sitting up a little straighter.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked, his interest piqued. Ah, there it was. So it wasn't that Bucky had no competitive side - he just needed the stakes to be a little higher.

"If you can keep me from landing any body hits, then I'll buy all your groceries at the farmer's market today." she said, giving him a challenging look. She had no doubt that she could not take Bucky in a sparring match in any way, shape, or form, but she was confident that she could get him at least once. "But if I can make one hit, then you have to buy mine."

"Sounds like you just want an excuse to hit me. Or to get me to pay for things." he replied, not bothering to hide his smirk this time. She gave him an unamused look.

"Well ideally, it'd be both. That's kind of the point of the wager." she said lightly, making him smile and shake his head.

"Smartass." he muttered, and she made her most innocent, endearing face she could muster. She could tell his resolve was starting to wane. He stared at her for a few more moments before sighing. "Fine. Don't hurt yourself." he finally relented, though his posture was straighter now, his eyes a little keener. It was the closest thing to a display of nerves that she could get out of him.

"I won't, I promise. I am a strong and ferocious tiger." she said, picking up her bag. They went into their usual room, dropping their stuff in the corner. Bucky rolled up the sleeves of his tshirt, shaking out his hands a little.

"You're not a tiger. A kitten, maybe." he replied. He didn't seem anxious, perhaps, but he seemed hesitant. It reminded her of the first time they'd trained together, how he was so afraid to touch her or share her space. She gave him a mock offended look, which seemed to settle him a little bit.

"I am not a kitten." she said, crossing her arms over her chest. He lifted one corner of his mouth, and she knew he was really proud of whatever comeback he'd formulated.

"You're right. You're a little bird." he said. It wasn't much of a crack, but it was enough to spike her blood pressure.

"I am not a little bird! That's even worse than a kitten!" she exclaimed, her voice a shriek. Bucky chuckled at her reaction, cringing at the volume her voice reached.

"It's a compliment." he amended, trying to smooth it over. Too late.

"How is that a compliment? Birds are weird and fragile and weak!" she retorted, her voice raising an octave. He actually looked very concerned that he had offended her, holding his hands out in an effort to get her to lower her voice.

"No, no. Birds are pretty, and agile, and can cause a lot of damage if they really want to." he said in a soothing tone. He was emoting much more than usual, which led her to believe that he was actually serious in what he was saying. She scoffed, changing her position to more of a fight-ready one.

"Whatever. If I'm a bird, then I'm a scary one, like a falcon. Or a hawk. Or a goose." she said, giving her most intimidating look. He let out another low chuckle, shifting his stance ever so slightly, anticipating her movements.

"Geese are not scary." he said, which made her raise her eyebrows.

"Clearly you've never met one then." she said seriously, shaking her head. He shrugged.

"You've got five minutes, little bird." he said, giving her a smirk that didn't quite go as high as usual. But he wasn't saying no, and she knew that if he was too uncomfortable, he would respectfully decline. It was actually one of her favorite qualities of his.

"I can do a lot in five minutes." she asked, giving him a challenging look. They'd finally gotten to the point in their friendship that they could make innuendos, though she often made more than he did. He'd been surprised the first time, but now he just rolled his eyes at her bawdy jokes.

"Not enough." he replied, making her eyebrows raise. She always felt a weird sense of pride when he felt comfortable enough to make a joke with her.

"Okay, tough guy. Let's do this." she said. She brought her fancy new watch up to her lips, telling it to set a timer for five minutes. When the request processed, she immediately sprang into action. She wasn't trying to really and truly hit him, but she was trying to at least touch his torso. He easily pushed her hand away with his right, giving her an amused and pointed look.

"You can do better than that." he said. Was he taunting her? He was taunting her! She narrowed her eyes, setting her feet like he'd taught her. He was still grinning at her like a Cheshire cat, and it was possibly the most transparent she'd ever seen him. She was acutely aware of the time counting down; if she didn't want her grocery bill to double, she needed to get going. She tried some of the combinations he'd taught her earlier, but he easily blocked them all. Of course he did, he was the one who taught them to her. So she tried to switch it up a little, doing different combos that they hadn't gone over. It was a little clumsy, but she felt so good, so alive. Bucky's amusement only seemed to grow as she continued to try and land a hit, any hit. He didn't even move his left hand from his pocket, he was blocking all her shots with just the right.

The timer went off entirely too soon, just as she was about to land a great right hook. He was momentarily distracted by the sound coming from her phone, and she thought she would actually make it. At the last second, his attention returned to her. His left hand shot up, catching her swing easily before it could make contact. The grip was much softer than before, when she'd lost her balance and he'd caught her. She could feel the metal fingers of the prosthetic pulse, the plates of the forearm shifting slightly. Bucky lost his amused look then, and while his expression wasn't blank, she couldn't quite figure out what emotion was displayed on his face. He let go of her hand, stepping back and letting out a long breath. He was slowly opening and closing the metal hand, as if testing his control of it.

"Sorry." he whispered. He was no longer looking at her, but instead down at the ground. He pressed his lips together and swallowed, and she would have given everything she owned to know what he was thinking in that moment. But she wouldn't ask about it, wouldn't pressure him.

"Nothing to apologize for, you won our bet fair and square." she said, smiling brightly. He finally looked back at her, his neutral expression back in place. She didn't like when he made that face; it made her feel like he was trying to hide from her. Which, he probably was. Bucky had come leaps and bounds from where he was when they first met, but he was still careful, still somewhat guarded. She couldn't even imagine the levels of anxiety that he was hiding. One of these days, she was going to give him a hug, so help her. Because he needed it. At least, she felt like he needed it.

"Oh, right." he said, as if he'd forgotten about their little wager for a moment. He furrowed his brows before holding his right hand out. "Is your hand okay?"

"Yep, look. My Rocky wraps did their job." she said, showing him her covered knuckles. Her fingers were a little red, but that was from the bag work they did earlier. He let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing a full inch lower. He undid the wraps slowly, expertly rolling them up. She noticed he really took his time, focusing way more on the strips than he probably needed to. She kept silent as he worked, figuring he was trying to center himself or something. She wanted to ask why he was always so afraid of hurting her, but that (like all the other questions she wanted to as) seemed like a sure way to make him uncomfortable.

"Looks like you owe me some produce then." he finally said, finishing up the wraps and putting them in his backpack. Mika let out a groan, throwing her head back dramatically.

"I have nothing to blame but my own hubris." she said, shaking her head. She slipped off her socks and shoes, saying, "let's do some yoga, while I consider this mistake that I have made."

Bucky paused for a long time before reaching down and untying his boots. Their yoga session was a little longer than usual, which he was grateful for. He found he very much enjoyed yoga; it certainly wasn't a cure-all, but it was nice to do something quiet that took his mind off of everything that liked to intrude. Plus the stretching felt good. He couldn't remember the last time he just...stretched. Like a normal person.

The farmer's market was another new tradition that Bucky enjoyed. Mika wasn't kidding when she said the produce was better; with his enhanced senses, the difference was more than noticeable. Plus, the earlier they got there, the quieter it was - even quieter than the grocery store at that hour. It was pleasant to be in the open air, surrounded by the smell of earth and vegetables. There was something soothing about it. It was even better when Mika was paying for his groceries.

Of course, he didn't let her pay for all of them. He let her mess with the kid selling potatoes, as he wanted more time to pass before he had to haggle with him again. He didn't really need to worry - the kid didn't display an ounce of recognition when she walked up to him. She handed over the vegetables with a dramatic sigh, her face long as he situated them in his backpack. He took his time at the next stand, making her suffer. When it came time to pay, he pushed her wallet away, trading his own bills for the squash.

"Hey now, none of that. You won the bet, and now I must reap what I have sown." she said, trying to push past him to the seller. He dutifully and easily stayed in her way, preventing her from making contact with the man. She let out a noise that was somewhere between a growl and a groan of frustration, trying to force her way past him again. He gave her a impish grin, not giving her any room to move around him. "I hate your stupid science strength!" she exclaimed finally, stomping over to the next booth. He chuckled, sharing an amused look with the seller in front of him before putting away his vegetables and continuing down the row.

"Mad?" he asked, catching up to where she was admiring the same handmade jewelry he'd spotted last week. Once again, the person in charge of it had stepped away. Bucky wondered if they ever worried about their merchandise disappearing. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye before turning and continuing down the row.

"No, you're saving me money. Even if I was the one who lost the bet." she said. And while her words were positive, her voice still sounded a little bit salty. "I just don't care for being pitied."

Bucky made a disagreeing noise. That's what she thought this was? Ridiculous. "Pity is not something I do." he said shortly. He didn't even remember what pitying someone felt like.

"Swear?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. Once again, she was daring him to disagree with her.

"Swear." he answered, giving her a look that he hoped conveyed how serious he was without being overly somber. She eyed him for a moment before her facade finally broke.

"You are too chivalrous for your own good, you realize that right?" she said, going to the booth with all the different kinds of flours. Bucky let out a dry laugh.

"Guess I'm just old fashioned." he replied, laughing again at his own inside joke. Memories of his past conflicted so heavily with the fashion of today; he had the feeling he would never let go of his old traditions.

"You're a mess is what you are. We need to get you a girlfriend." she said, which made him scoff in answer. She gave him an playful grin, sidling a little closer to him as the man weighed and bagged the flours she pointed out. "Oh, right, or is it boyfriend? I'm still not certain where we landed on that."

Bucky shook his head, unable to stop the smile from breaking across his face. Her candor never ceased to amuse him. How could he explain that there was probably no way he could ever be in a relationship like that again? He couldn't put his burdens on someone like that, couldn't ever be vulnerable like that. He couldn't imagine letting go of all his secrets in such a way. "Maybe in another century, you can find me a girlfriend." he said by way of answer, trying to keep the response short and sweet.

"I won't be alive in a century!" she exclaimed. He thought it odd that she didn't question his living for another hundred years. She accepted her packages from the salesman, neatly arranging them in the bottom of her bag as they made their way further down the row.

"Don't limit yourself. I fully believe you could outlive me out of spite." Bucky retorted, stopping to get onions from an old man wearing suspenders and a cowboy hat. Mika rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Asshole." she said lowly, leaving him to go talk to the girl who sold lettuce. He walked through the whole line of booths, picking up his various necessities before meeting up with her again at the fresh juice booth. She already had his cup ready and waiting for him when he wandered up, hers already halfway gone. The mix today was strawberry and watermelon, and it was just as delicious and refreshing as last week. The sun was partially covered by clouds as they walked back towards the apartment, but he didn't mind - it was still a pleasant morning.

"Shit, did you buy bricks this time?" he asked as he offered to carry Mika's bag again. She stuck her tongue out at him, bouncing on her toes as she walked as if she now felt weightless. Which, considering her bag probably weighed about as much as her, was understandable.

"I may have gotten a little overzealous." she admitted, taking a sip of her drink. She made a noise as she remembered something, awkwardly trying to swallow the juice without choking on her excitement. "Elena and I decided a half hour ago that everyone's coming over tonight for wine and bread and cheese. You'll come too, right?"

He was uneasy at the thought of interacting with multiple people in such a confined space, but luckily he had a trusty excuse at the ready. "Can't. Work."

"Ugh. Your work schedule is really getting in the way of our fun." she said, throwing her hands up in the air in as if questioning why she bothered. "Well, if you still see the light under my door when you get home, pop in. Say hello. Eat, since clearly I've gotten too much."

"Will do." he agreed as they scanned into the building. They were silent as they climbed the stairs, Bucky focusing on balancing with the heavy bags over his shoulders. Mika looked a little sour that she had to take it back from him, her arms definitely struggling to pull the strap onto her shoulder.

"Thank you! Okay, so either see you tonight or see you…" she left the statement hanging, and he realized she was asking about their movie night. He thought back, trying to remember his schedule for next week.

"Tuesday." he said, the information finally clicking into place. Sometimes his brain felt like it was on overdrive, and sometimes - like that moment - it felt slow as molasses. But it was getting better, it was always getting better.

"Tuesday. Have a good day!" she sang, opening her apartment and lumbering inside with her haul. He laughed and shook his head, letting himself into his own apartment. He carefully organized his groceries, pulling out the necessary ingredients to cook his lunch. Work started a little earlier than usual tonight, so he had to review his memories a bit faster than usual before fixing his supper for later. It was still light outside as he walked to the warehouse district that evening, and the sidewalk was busy with people out to enjoy the spring sunshine. Bucky kept his head down and his pace steady as he walked, fading into the background of the cityscape.

It was a slow night that night, making the time pass by slower. The men he worked with were chattier than usual, taking their time to do their job as well as taking time to make fun of one another. He wished they could just get the unloading done and go home, but knew he had to stay the whole night in order to get a full shift's pay. The rest of the guys didn't seem as impatient or restless, but then again they never were.

"I see you've got another fancy meal there, Jones." Hugo teased as Bucky heated up chicken, veggies, and rice pilaf. He shrugged - it really wasn't that fancy, he was able to make it less than half an hour.

"Your girl make that for you?" Ronaldo asked from where he was unwrapping a sandwich. Even as far as sandwiches went, Bucky had to admit that it looked unappetizing.

"Don't have a girl." he muttered for probably the hundredth time. He kept his eyes on the turning glassware in the microwave.

"So what? Did you make it yourself? Got an apron and everything?" Ion pestered, giving a grin to the other guys.

"Don't need an apron if you manage the heat correctly." he deadpanned, sitting down at the table with them with his food. It wasn't hard to shut the younger guy down when he tried to take shots at him, but it was still satisfying. He always expected Bucky to retaliate - it was hard to win the fight if he was agreeable.

"Or if you have a girl make it for you." Ion countered. He was learning, or at least trying to.

"Gender doesn't matter. Everyone gets hungry." he said, tucking in to his meal. That effectively shut him up, the older men humming in agreement. They let him be for the rest of their half-hour break, though only after they tried to convince him to pack their meals as well.

Their tasks were done long before the clock struck one, so they were due diligent employees and sat around until the end of the shift. Bucky sat adjacent to the group, working on the puzzle from the daily newspaper (it was called sudoku, Mika showed it to him a few weeks prior; there was something soothing about putting the numbers in their little boxes). The rest of the guys were playing poker, which he vaguely remembered playing at some point in his life. They invited him to join, but he declined, saying he preferred his puzzle. Really it was because he hadn't quite remembered all the rules yet, and he was not about to ask these jokers to teach him how to play. He knew how that would go.

The walk home was not as quiet as usual, given the earlier hour. With the spring in full swing and summer around the corner, all the pubs between his work and the apartments were packed, and the foot traffic between them elevated to the highest level he'd seen so far. He was glad when he turned the corner to his building to find the residential street empty. There were a few people half the block down, but they were walking away from him into the night. He scanned his way in and climbed the stairs to the top floor, the hallway silent and still. He was surprised to see the light on underneath Mika's door - he figured she would be asleep by now. It was her ceiling lights too, which implied she was not only awake, but up and moving around. Usually if it was this late, it was the low light of her lamp, and he could hear her television playing. The television wasn't on; instead, he could hear muffled music. He recalled their conversation earlier, about her having guests that evening. She said to stop by if her light was still on...and it was. He stood in the hallway for an inappropriately long time, trying to decide whether or not to knock. Protocol dictated that he went home, showered, and reviewed his memories before going to sleep. But his friend had told him to stop by if he was home in time.

With a decisive nod, he walked up to her door and gently rapped his knuckles against it. He heard Mika's footsteps as she scuttled to the door, the click of the lock opening sounding before she opened the door. Her confused face turned to happy surprise as she saw him, giving him a brilliant smile.

"Bucky! Hello! Come on in!" she said, gesturing to her empty apartment with her half-full glass of wine. He was confused, but stepped in anyways. Didn't she say her friends were coming over? A bubbly pop song played, and she danced along to it as she moved into the kitchen. There were still small piles of bread and cheese on the island, as well as many open bottles of wine. He became acutely aware that he was still sweaty and dirty from work; perhaps he should have stopped to shower. Or just not have come in at all. She continued, interrupting his thoughts. "You just missed everyone, but there is still plenty of food that I can't eat on my own."

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's late, I can go." he said, stepping back toward the door. She shook her head emphatically, finishing a bite of something before answering him.

"Absolutely not. Please, join me." she said, grandly presenting the spread. She went to her cabinet and grabbed another wine glass before picking up one of the bottles. "You have to try this one, so good. Wait, do you drink? I've never seen you drink. I mean it's just some wine, nothing crazy. Sorry, I get chatty when I'm tipsy."

Bucky gave a soft laugh at her outspokenness, nodding his head. He couldn't remember the last time he had a drink just for the sake of it, instead of trying to survive the Siberian winter. "Wine would be nice." he said. She smiled, carefully pouring what was left in the bottle. He heard her toilet flush from the other side of the apartment and turned quickly, taking a step towards the door.

"Oh, sorry, Elena is still here. I should have warned you. I meant to warn you. I'm sorry." she said quickly. He took a deep breath, lowering his pulse back to its resting rate. Elena he could handle.

"That's okay." he said, masking his initial unease. He accepted the glass of wine from her, just as Elena came skipping out from the bedroom, feet bare and skirt fluttering.

"Oh, who do we have here?" she sang, eyeing Bucky. Perhaps he was wrong about being able to handle her. He took a sip from the glass, the motion feeling natural. The wine was smooth and light, with an almost woody aftertaste. He knew back in the day he used to drink a lot of whiskey, but he found he rather liked the wine.

"Elena, you remember Bucky." Mika reintroduced them. She wiggled her fingers, sliding onto the barstool next to him.

"Why yes I do." she said suggestively. Bucky didn't understand her tone, and decided that maybe it was just the wine talking.

"Nice to see you again." he said, keeping his own tone neutral. She gave him a grin that made him uncomfortable.

"Likewise." she purred, ignoring the empty wine glass next to her and picking up one of the mostly-empty bottles.

"Down, girl." Mika said lowly, giving her a pointed look. Elena opened her mouth to respond, but Mika cut her off before she could say anything. She turned back to Bucky, picking up a chunk of bread and placing another chunk of cheese on top of it. She presented it to him. "Here, try this. Rosemary whole wheat and fresh mozzarella."

His hesitation was brief before he reached for the morsel, popping it in his mouth. The bread was soft, the herbs giving it a wonderful flavor. It worked well with the smooth, mild cheese. "Really good." he said, giving her a smile. She smiled back at him over her wine glass.

"Not as good as this one." Elena said, creating her own combination and holding it out to him. "Cheddar and...what was this one?"

"Sourdough." Mika clarified, taking another drink from her glass. Bucky carefully took the slices from her, making sure their fingers didn't touch. This bite was a little sharper, but he didn't dislike it. He followed it with a sip of wine, which helped mellow out the strong flavors.

"Also good." he said, giving Elena a mildly impressed look. She seemed happy enough with that reaction, lifting her large wine bottle to her lips. "So this was how you spent the evening?"

"There was a little more wine at first. And also a delightful rye bread, but Maria put that shit away, it was pretty impressive." Elena answered, even though he was looking at her friend. She handed him another bread and cheese combination without saying what it was. He took the risk and ate it anyways, finding it as delicious as the other two. He suddenly understood why they had this little get together.

"Did you make all these?" he asked Mika, gesturing to the bits of bread that were left. He knew she made her own amazing multigrain bread, but this was an impressive assortment. He thought for sure they were made by some overpaid professional, as most food was nowadays. She shrugged, humbly looking down into her wine.

"Yea, it's not a big thing." she said with a shrug, picking up another bit that was left on the cutting board in front of her.

"It's very impressive." Bucky replied, making his own pairing and eating it in one bite. Somehow, the flavors still seemed to work. She smiled, and he didn't know if it was the compliment or the wine that was making her blush like that. Surely she wasn't embarrassed? She shouldn't be. Her bread making skills were incredible. He looked up to see Elena's gaze switching between him and Mika as if she were watching a tennis match, even though they weren't speaking. A puckish smile slowly spread across her lips, and she suddenly downed the rest of the wine that was in the bottle.

"Well lads, I'm off to bed. You two have fun finishing this." she said, waving her hand wildly in the direction of the bread and cheese that was left. Bucky thought Mika would go to bed as well, and thus prepared himself to leave. But she surprised him by filling her glass again, hopping up to sit on the small area of island counter that wasn't covered by food.

"Don't take the middle of the bed again." she called after her as she sauntered across the apartment.

"No promises!" she called back, waving over her shoulder and shutting the door quietly behind her. Bucky looked back at Mika, picking up another couple slices of bread and cheese.

"So this was the whole night?" he asked again, eating the next bite. He reached for his wine glass to find that it was quickly emptying, which was not ideal. He knew that thanks to whatever HYDRA did to him he couldn't get drunk, but he still liked the taste of alcohol. Except for vodka. He hated vodka.

"Yep. What can I say, we're an easily amused bunch." she replied, eating a slice of cheese on its own. There was very little food left, but he didn't mind. He'd gotten plenty of nutrients from his meal a few hours ago, and at this point was just indulging because it tasted good.

"Have fun?" he asked. He knew this was a socially proper response, but he was also genuinely curious in the answer. It sounded odd, to have no concrete plans besides snacks and wine.

"It was! Nicolae brought over this new card game. It was tremendously inappropriate but also tremendously hilarious. And then he and Jonas got into a fight over one of the answers which effectively ended the game but was very amusing to watch. And then Maria taught me a new dance to my new favorite song that I can't stop listening to but then Alexei broke one of my wine glasses which was a real dick move and…" she stopped herself, pressing her lips together and looking down. "Sorry, rambling."

"No, sounds like it was a fun night." he replied, and he meant it. He gave her an encouraging smile, trying to abate any chagrin she might be feeling.

"It really was, I wish you could've come. It sucks that you have to work nights and weekends all the time, I think you'd really like my friends. And they'd like you too. They're a little high strung but I think your laid back demeanor would really help them chill out a little bit...I'm oversharing again. It's the damn wine." she chattered, putting the still half-full glass down.

"Hopefully someday the schedules will work out." he said, and for once the idea of engaging with new people didn't turn his blood to ice, though it did chill him a little bit still.

"Hopefully." Mika agreed, lifting one corner of her mouth in a half-smile. She hopped off the counter, as if suddenly struck by an idea. She started gathering the empty wine bottles, trying the minimize the loud clacking of the glass hitting. "Sorry, I just realized how much of a mess there is. If I don't clean right now, then I'll leave it for tomorrow and it'll just be even worse then."

"I'll help." he said, getting up off the barstool and gathering the now-empty serving boards. He found he was a little disappointed there wasn't more, even though he wasn't hungry by any means. She waved at him to put them down, but he continued despite her protests.

"No, no, don't worry about it. You just got off work, you should go home and sleep." she said, carefully depositing the empty wine bottles in the receptacle.

"Not tired." he responded, going to her sink and carefully removing his gloves before rinsing the boards off. After a few moments she stood next to him, moving the faucet so that she could clean the wine glasses on the opposite side. The mess really wasn't that big, and they were able to clean it in a relatively short time. Bucky was glad he stayed to help; now that they were finished, Mika looked very sleepy.

"Thank you. For helping. And for stopping by! I'm so glad you did." she said, giving him a tired smile and putting an affectionate hand on his shoulder. Yes, it was definitely time for her to go to bed.

"Thank you for having me." he responded. He slipped his gloves into his back pocket; there was no need to put them back on just to go across the hall. "See you Tuesday?" he asked, opening her door.

"Tuesday." she replied, their conversation very similar to the one they had earlier. "Goodnight, Bucky."

"Goodnight, little bird." he teased, ducking out of her apartment before she could reply. But he did not move fast enough to escape her annoyed glare, which she made sure he saw as he closed the door. He smiled to himself at the joke, going across the way to his own apartment. He went through his nightly routine, though it didn't feel as robotic as usual. He made sure to note the bread and cheese he'd tried before sliding into his sleeping bag, trying his best to get some sleep.

Once again, thank you so so much for taking the time to read, fave, and follow this story! And also extra love for those who are so kind and amazing to leave comments, they are seriously so encouraging! Y'all are the best, hope you enjoyed this chapter!

And for quick clarification purposes: right now in the story we're approximately one year (ish) away from Civil War. So don't worry lads, we've got time!

-XM