Little 'Steam' warning. I will be changing the rating to M in about three chapters or so, so make sure you're following lest you can't find it!
Jenny and AJ fished for another twenty minutes but only managed to catch some more little Crappies until Sarah called them in for dinner.
She turned around and saw Bucky, Sam and Cass watching them from the porch. She averted her gaze from the super soldier, who's shoulders still hung down like a sullen teenager. He looked nervous, jumpy. AJ took her hand and pulled her along behind him and up the stairs. "You should've seen her," said AJ to Sam. "Titi Jenny caught a bunch of fish."
Sam and Bucky looked at each other and she scrunched hers in confusion at the new nickname.
"Titi Jenny huh?" said Sam to Bucky. The super soldier locked his eyes on her as she walked past. She didn't return the gaze.
AJ dragged her inside to the table and sat her down next to him. Bucky plopped down two seats away, his head straight forward. Sarah set a dish of chili down and hot cornbread with honey and butter.
"This smells amazing, thank you," said Jenny.
"At least one of you thinks so."
"We always like your cooking mom," said Cass, giving Jenny a scowl. She pinched her lips together. Cass cut through her like a knife, and she tried not to show it.
"Hey," said Bucky. "We all do."
Jenny glanced sideways at him.
The boys ate quickly, and Sam kept them entertained with stories of his latest mission. They laughed, Cass and AJ hanging on every word, their hero uncle, goodness personified. Bucky however ate his meal quickly, thanked Sarah and disappeared into the basement. She knew why. Sam was here, there was no reason to wait for communication from him. It was her. All Bucky's interest in her had vanished. She made up her mind to call for taxi the next day, and head to the airport. She could do more good by being home anyway without any… distractions.
The boys got ready for their concert and Sam decided to drive them since there was no way to contact anyone that evening. They invited Jenny but she opted to stay behind. She had work to do.
Jenny walked up the stairs, the heat sitting aggressively on the top floor. She turned on the fan in Sam's room, leaving the overhead light off and switched on the side lamp. He'd graciously let her keep his room and told her he'd sleep on the other sofa downstairs. She pulled her hair up and put on her cotton pajama shirt and shorts to loosely breathe and put on her glasses. Then she opened her laptop and pulled up a fresh document. Lastly she opened Spotify on her phone and chose her "Big Band" era playlist and got to work. She'd been far too lax in her own homework.
She typed and typed, letting the whole story flow out of her regarding Limka, making a report that would burn him. Then she began the proposal for Symkaria. After an hour, she felt somewhat satisfied with her progress. She got up and poured some water in her hand, placing it on the back of her neck, as she stood next to the open window. Sam's room looked out to the bayou and she could barely see the top of the sun over the trees. The playlist switched to an Ella Fitzgerald song, her voice hovering over the scratchy orchestra to the tune of Imagination.
Makes a bee think of honey, just as I think of you.
Jenny's fingers traced a line over her neck. A touch of perspiration bloomed at her temples. She didn't want to think about him, but he was never far from her mind now.
Have you ever felt a gentle touch and then a kiss?
She breathed out.
And then, find it's only your imagination again?
She set the glass down and rubbed her eyes with her fingers.
A light tap on her door made her turn around. Bucky was at the entrance, looking in. His eyes raked over her pajamas, and she saw his cheeks turn pink in the lamplight. "I heard music," he said turning his head to stare at the wall.
"Oh, sorry," said Jenny running to her phone.
"No, wait," he said. She looked up from her phone. "It's Ella. I love Ella."
She smiled. "I do too," she said.
"About earlier…" he said, taking a step inside the room.
"It's ok. I didn't belong down there."
"You did, I didn't…"
"It's fine. Really."
They stared at each other. "What are you working on?" he asked finally, turning to her laptop.
She sat down at the desk chair again and put on her glasses. "A proposal for the displacement camps. They have no teachers, Limka stole their funding. I want to find a way to get around his politics so they can get the schools going again. Also set up safe daycare spaces for when parents work."
He nodded with a little smile. "Can I read what you have so far?"
"Of course." She started to stand, but he put his hand on the back of her chair, leaning forward so she was trapped in her seat. She could feel the heat coming off him and that Whiskey Old Fashioned smell. She realized it was just him.
"A lot of kids without parents too," he said. "Especially the Latverian kids. They're forming street gangs and recruiting smaller children. The Symkarian police were telling me about how bad it was getting. What about more funding for afternoon programs? I don't know what I would have done without the YMCA in Brooklyn when Steve and I were kids."
She leaned forward and started typing again. "That's brilliant, say that again? I want to get it all down."
"I know there's not enough to go around, but maybe..."
"It's a start," She looked up at him. Her heart started to race as his eyes darkened, landing on her damaged ear.
The song on her phone switched to Moonlight Serenade. She couldn't help the little twitch in her cheek. The most romantic song in world. Fine time to betray me, phone, she thought bitterly. Glen Miller's clarinets hummed their mellow tune while the horns crooned above them, in that lilting four/four time. She watched his eyes grow distant, melancholy. Or maybe blissful.
He stood and paced to her phone. Her heart sank a little, waiting for him to turn it off. Instead the volume went up.
She turned around to him holding out his flesh hand.
"If there's one thing that hasn't left me after ninety years," he said. "It's knowing when a dame wants to dance."
If the room wasn't hot before, now it was scorching her skin. The air changed between them, thick and heavy erasing the absurdity of a former second grade teacher dancing in her pajamas with a super soldier in a tiny stuffy room. "Dame?" she asked lifting an eyebrow, at least not willing to let him get away with that.
"Woman," he corrected quietly with a sideways smirk.
She removed her glasses, took his hand and he drew her to her feet. His touch was electric, sending sparks up her arm with the warm calloused pressure of his fingers.
Pulling her to him he wrapped his metal arm around her waist. It was a part of him that exuded absolute restrained strength. He could crush her with it, but instead, it held her gently but still at a respectful distance away. He switched hands and his right index finger pressed into her back, guiding her like an expert lead. She laid her hand on his shoulder, so firm under her palm.
His eyes landed on her ear again. He looked like he was about to comment on it, but then switched topics. "AJ seems to really like you," he said.
"He's a sweetheart," she said. She let her fingers wander slowly up Bucky's neck and moved her body half an inch closer. He let out a little sigh.
"He called you 'Aunt' by the way," he said. "That's what 'Titi' means."
"Really?" Jenny flushed. Sarah's words came back to her. She'd already failed her request to keep her distance and not let the boys get attached.
"He clings to people," said Bucky. His fingers slid along her back, holding her more firmly.
"I was thinking that too," she said. She took a shaky breath. "They both love you so much," she said.
He smiled and gave her a little nod.
She closed her eyes and imagined this moment if they were back in time before tragedy stole his life. In her quick fantasy, she would have been sitting in the USO. He would have come in with his army buddies, and she would have clocked him immediately, praying he would ask her to dance. He would be in his sergeant's uniform, shoulders broad and grin plastered on his face. She would have chosen a swishy red dress with lipstick to match, her hair in victory rolls. The band would be boisterous and brassy for the swing dancing, but here in this moment, soft and meandering. In her mind she saw him walk over, offer his hand. She would have looked into his eyes, brushed her fingers against the nape of his neck under his hair as they swayed. She wouldn't have waited for him to make the first move.
Bucky looked down at her, snapping her out of her day dream, his eyes dark navy in the pale light.
Jenny swallowed hard. "I can barely breathe when you look at me like that," she whispered.
His expression was one of helplessness. His eyes landed on her mouth, and his fingers tightened on her waist. She shocked herself then. She leaned giving him a feather light kiss.
He bounced his head away in surprise, his eyes searching hers. Then her cheeks were cradled in his hands, his lips were devouring hers, his tongue in her mouth, tasting her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he pulled her closer. "Bucky," she whispered against him with a moan. He grunted and trailed a line of desperate kisses down her neck and back up. Her heart raced as she reveled in the sensations, hardly able to understand what was happening, his stubble felt so good against her skin.
"Oh god," she whispered.
He hoisted her roughly into his arms and she wrapped her legs around his waist while his hands roamed up and down her back.
She couldn't get enough. In that moment, she knew it would never be enough. She needed all of him. She held his cheek in her hand. "I want you," she whispered.
"Jenny." He tilted his head and captured her lips again. Fire pooled in her stomach. His flesh hand went under her pajama top, stroking her back and she gasped. It had been so long since she'd been touched. And no one had ever touched her like this. His fingers pressed like hunger.
"I really, really want you." She ground her hips against him, and he let out a strangled groan. She was falling backward onto the bed, his fingers were at her buttons. She let out a desperate sigh, kneading his shoulders with her hands. And then…
She felt his warmth and weight lift from her.
"Bucky..?"
He stood up and ran his hands through his hair and down his face. "This isn't right… This isn't what I want."
The bloom of red humiliation made her face burn. She quickly scooted back and buttoned her top. It was the same all over again. She was too pushy, too fast. She was too much. "Oh."
"That's not what I mean…"
"I know what you meant."
"No, no you don't. I want you…"
The rejection burned in her chest like a bonfire. She was as bulldozer, pushing herself on him like a crazy person. "Just stop. Please. You don't have to explain."
"Damn it Jenny, this isn't how it's done!" he said. She went silent as he placed his hands on his hips, still panting from kissing. "One whiff of the Jasmine in your hair and I lose my God damn mind," he said. "This isn't how… I don't want to just fuck you. I want to court you."
Her heart stopped. "What?"
He sighed and started pacing. "This isn't how you should be treated. You wanted the Winter Soldier, so I gave him to you in the elevator. But I… I want to bring flowers to your door. People don't do that anymore I know, but I want to."
She stared up at him, and her hand went over her heart.
"I want to take you to dinner," he continued his voice softening. "Ask about your family. Sit with you on your porch and watch the sun go down."
Her chin started to quiver as big hot tears welled in her eyes.
"I've been nervous as hell since I saw you day one. I want to be nervous because I can't stop thinking about you," he said, still running his hands through his hair. "I want to wonder what you think about me. I want to pretend to yawn as my arm comes around your shoulder at the movies and wait to see if you'll slap me for being fresh, but hope you'll rest your head on me instead."
"Bucky…" Jenny stared. The beautiful words poured out of him, more words than he'd ever said at once.
He pulled on her legs and brought her to the edge of the bed as he knelt down in front of her. Her hand went automatically to his cheek as she wiped her eyes with the other.
"I want to go to Coney Island and take you on a rollercoaster and have you grab my hand because you're scared, and I want to put my arm around you and tell you…"
"Tell me what?"
"That you don't have to be afraid. I've got you. That I'll protect you."
Her face fell in her hands. He pulled her off the bed onto the ground with him, sitting her on his knees, wrapping her in his arms. "You're so afraid," he said. "So afraid of something, and I want to help."
"I don't know how to believe you," she said through her tears. "No one ever wanted me like that."
"We've been hurt," he whispered against her hair. "So we go slow. Please, let me go slow. I don't want to fuck this up. I don't want…"
She wanted to rake her nails over his skin gently, sink her lips into his neck with slow kisses. Show him she could go bit by bit, inch by inch instead of wasting him. She snuggled her head into the crook of his shoulder instead.
"So what now?" she asked.
"Now," he said softly. "I'm going to sit you on the bed, kiss your forehead and then I'm going to go. And think about baseball maybe," he said, adjusting his jeans. She looked up at him, and he smoothed the hair from her face. "Hoping," he continued, "that after we find Leviathan, and only after you fully trust me, that I'll take you on a date. If you want to."
She gave a little laugh through her nose. "I want to."
He lifted her from the floor like she was a breath of air and not the sack of potatoes she felt like. He set her on the bed and she gazed up at him.
"Until tomorrow," he said, running his thumb over her cheek.
"Alright," she whispered. She wanted to tell him not to go. To hold her in this strange bed until she melded into him. But she just reached up and touched the scar on his chin.
He kissed the top of her head and then he was gone, closing the door behind him, leaving only a faint trace of his musk.
She stood and went like she was in a dream to her computer and sat down. She stared at the screen but she was useless now. The words blurred on the page into smoke. He was right. She couldn't concentrate when he was near, and she had her job just like he had his. She closed her laptop and went to the window. Little fireflies danced over the grass near the trees. She hugged herself even though it was still warm. She could feel his hands on her waist still, the taste of him still on her tongue. She'd hopped over the fence of uncertainty into almost dating territory. And she had no compunction about what she wanted now. She wanted to learn him. His quirks, his dislikes, his fears, his scars, and the happy boy that peeked out when he wasn't trying to squelch him. His little bursts of joy about the world he tried in vain to bury. Everything. She was in the thick of it now, a swamp of feelings and she didn't think she could get out this time. But he was in there with her. That smile that so often creeped onto her face against her will now stretched all the way across her cheeks, the feel of his kiss still on her lips. She bit the end of her fingernail and sighed.
Car head lights impaled the swampy dark fog over the grass as Sam pulled into the driveway. Sarah, Cass and AJ jumped out with containers of ice cream. Sam opened his door and looked up at Jenny seemingly on instinct. He gave her a little nod and a smile. She waved back.
Jenny was sure Bucky's kiss was written all over her face.