Harper closed the lid on her laptop with a groan. James stirred beside her in bed where he had been half dozing since her last cluster. Hearing her, he sat up, alert once more. His quick transition to wakefulness was a testament to his many years of combat, she thought vaguely.
"Sorry for waking you," she muttered.
"Don't worry," he assured with a small smile. "Here, I'll take care of that for you."
Harper didn't have the energy for the conflict of turning down his offer. She merely handed him the laptop and watched as he moved across the living space to place it on the kitchen table. The brunette lifted the blankets with some effort, welcoming him back into the bed. He slipped in beside her and turned on his side to face her. Bright blue eyes flickered over her face, and his lips turned downward in a frown.
"Are you alright, Harper?"
"I'm just… sorry," she mumbled, eyes falling closed against the familiar sting of forming tears.
"Doll, please don't," he implored.
"Sorry." She noticed the bemused look on his face and realized what she'd done. "Oh."
"Oh," James repeated with a chuckle. Gently, he took her face in his palm. "There's nothing to apologize for. You have a medical condition."
"You shouldn't be the one having to live with it," Harper lamented, unable to meet his gaze. "It's my problem. My condition."
"I don't have to, but I choose to. Just like you choose to live with my nightmares, my flashbacks. Just like you're choosing to love a broken, brainwashed former assassin turned fugitive goat farmer."
The brunette couldn't help but laugh. "What a tagline."
"How can I keep that smile on your face?"
Harper turned, placing a kiss on his palm. Looking back at him, she met his bright blue gaze. With deep fondness for the man, she answered, "Just keep being you."
"I look like garbage," Harper huffed.
Bucky chuckled lightly and pressed a kiss to her temple. "Nonsense, doll."
"James," she shot back warningly. "I'm exhausted and I look it. Hardly fit for an audience with a king."
"You're living in a special kinda hell and you don't look it," he corrected. "And it isn't an audience with a king. It's just lunch with T'Challa."
The brunette hummed disbelievingly, but placed the cap on her eyeliner pen regardless. She tossed her things back into place on the trunk at the foot of his bed, which she had turned into a pseudo-vanity. Bright blue eyes swept her form. She was tired, and it did show, but not in the ways she thought. Harper still looked put together and confident. She wore a simple olive colored top, tucked in at the front beneath the black high waisted jeans he had come to really enjoy her in. Her dark hair was washed (with surprisingly little coaxing) and her face was neutrally made up. But he saw her fatigue in the drop of her chin toward her chest, the defeat weighing down her shoulders, and the drag in her steps. Anyone who didn't know her so well wouldn't know any better, but he did and he wished she wasn't suffering.
"The new look is nice, by the way," Bucky remarked as she finished fluffing her dark waves.
"New look?" she asked.
"The way you do your eyes now," he replied, feeling suddenly unsure. "I don't know makeup… should I not have commented?"
"You noticed that?"
The former soldier's heart warmed at her innocent surprise. "Course, doll."
"Even Kat didn't notice I finally mastered eyeliner enough that it's part of the routine," Harper replied, brows knitting.
"I guess Kat had fewer reasons to commit your face to memory than I did. I was so afraid that I'd have to run and would never see you again."
Harper looked up at him with a frown on her lips. "I wish I could have supported you better back in Bucharest. You must have been in so much pain."
Bucky shook his head in the negative. "You were perfect, doll. C'mon, we're gonna be late."
Harper took a deep breath through her nose and presented her left hand. He took it, entwining their fingers. Lifting their joined digits, he brushed a kiss to her knuckles. She nodded and offered him a small smile. "Let's go then."
They crossed the expansive grassy plain at a leisurely pace, hands swinging slightly between them. Neither spoke, but Bucky watched her in his periphery. As grateful as he was for sanctuary in Wakanda, he couldn't help but wish for the days in Bucharest. They had their own little bubble, and even if they had struggles, they also had the space to sit together with those struggles. Now there were politics and statuses to consider, appearances to upkeep, friends, comrades… Their bubble was well and truly burst.
"This place is really incredible," Harper commented as they approached the palace.
"Sergeant Barnes! Harper!"
Bucky looked in the direction of the call, a small smile already working his lips at Shuri's familiar voice. "Will you ever call me by my name?"
"No," the young woman replied swiftly. Turning to Harper with a huge grin, the Wakandan princess asked, "Feeling better?"
"Not yet," Harper admitted with a light laugh which did little to disguise her weariness.
Shuri's face fell and she apologized, "Sorry. I just figured if you're here…"
"We're having lunch with your brother," Bucky clarified. Trying to deflect the awkwardness he jibed, "What? Were you not invited?"
"Who knows?" Shuri asked with a shrug. "Brother tends to ask me these things when I'm in my lab. He should know better by now. I have things I need to do anyway. I'm working on a way to make his suit-"
"Shuri," a cheerfully scolding voice interrupted. T'Challa approached and admonished, "Don't drive them off with your rambling."
"I'd no sooner drive them off than you with all your gloomy serious talk, brother," Shuri argued.
"Sometimes people have matters of import to discuss," the Wakandan King replied. His tone was stern, but it came off teasing nonetheless. Bucky was less bemused, hearing the implication to T'Challa's words.
"Right, right," Shuri sighed dramatically. "I prefer to take action anyway. I'll be in my lab."
"Remember to come to dinner tonight," T'Challa urged.
"I'll be there, don't worry. You sound like mother," the princess teased before turning and rushing off.
Turning to the couple, T'Challa offered them each a warm smile. Turning to Harper, he said, "Welcome. I hope you're well?"
"Yes, thank you," Harper answered with a small smile.
Bucky dipped his head once in agreement. The King invited them inside and they made small talk as they walked through the palace to one of the smaller dining rooms. Without pause in the conversation, the former soldier pulled a chair out for Harper. She flushed lightly at the gesture and took her seat. With the three of them settled, palace staff entered with plates of food and a selection of beverages. Harper flushed darker, still no more used to the experience than she was the first time they dined as T'Challa's guests. He flashed her an apologetic look. A gentle squeeze of her hand on his knee was her response.
Once they had begun eating and several more minutes of casual chatter had passed, Bucky asked, "I assume you've heard from Steve?"
T'Challa nodded. "Wanda missed a check-in and has turned off communications."
Bucky's jaw clenched. "Do they have any idea where she is?"
"Not exactly. Western Europe, but nothing further. There's been no contact for days."
"Are they concerned for her safety?" Harper spoke up, brows crawling toward each other.
T'Challa confirmed, "Yes. There's no telling if any remaining HYDRA insurgents have found her and Vision. We can be reasonably sure the government hasn't found them because it hasn't hit the news or political channels, but some recently acquired intel does indicate a possible HYDRA camp in London."
The brunette looked troubled for a moment, staring down into her plate contemplatively. Finally, she said, "Last Wanda told me, she was in Edinberg."
"How long ago was that?" asked the Wakandan King.
"Four days?" she guessed.
"Excuse me for a moment," T'Challa muttered, pulling a phone from his pocket.
"Thanks, doll."
Harper heaved a sigh and lamented, "I hope she's alright and not too upset with my disclosing her location. I think she really just wanted time with Vision…"
"Understandably," the former soldier replied. Gently, he added, "But we have to be careful; safety trumps what we want."
She gave him a nod. "I know, James."
"Steve sends his thanks. They're going to go check in and make sure they're alright."
"He'll update you?" Harper asked.
T'Challa bobbed his head affirmatively. "Yes, and I will let you both know."
"Thank you," the brunette replied, still looking worried.
The rest of the meal passed by quickly and more casually, though Bucky could tell that Harper was still tense with concern and guilt. When they eventually took leave of the palace, he took her hand again, squeezing gently. Her fingers gripped his tightly, searching for comfort.
"I've finally made a new friend – one in your circle, no less – and I've immediately thrown her under the bus," the brunette lamented.
"Darlin', they can't go dark. The situation we're in is too serious for that."
"I understand the situation," she sighed. "But I can't help but feel awful. She just wants a little time with the person she loves and she can't have it. Yet she delivered me to spend several months with the person I love."
He stopped walking, his hold on her hand pulling her to a halt too. Bright blue eyes roamed her face. To have been thrust into this world of super soldiers, enhanced people, spies, royalty, villains, politics… It was an enormous adjustment. She had taken it in stride as only she could, had opened her home to his fugitive best friend, had rearranged her life to see him, and now had made a decision most normal friendships would never demand.
"Harper, I'm so sorry. You're in this position because of me. All I seem to do is bring you suffering."
"I don't see it that way," she replied, tugging on his hand and prompting him to keep walking.
His home slowly came into view, yet the silence remained between them. As they finally reentered the small hut, he glanced worriedly at the brunette who was immediately fishing around her clothes for shorts and a t-shirt. If he wasn't concerned about her, he'd find it amusing that she still so adamantly refused to reveal much skin out in public despite the heat of the Wakandan sun.
She turned to him, clothes in hand, and said, "James, I understand your apology. Since the Accords, so much has changed, and I know you didn't want any of this for me or for us. But this is reality, and I still love you. We're always going to have issues in life, and these circumstances just change the flavor of those issues. But it's okay because we have each other to lean on. That's how I see it."
"I'm grateful you can think of it that way," he replied. With a grimace, he admitted, "I just can't."
The brunette sank to the bed. "Even if you can't think of it the same way, could you at least please try to accept it and just let me lean on you without apologizing? At least during the clusters? I'm so tired. I can't…"
Her voice broke off and she turned away, tears in her red-brown eyes. Bucky swore beneath his breath, frustrated with himself. He had such a knack for making their relationship revolve around his issues and shortcomings. She was always his support, always trying to help get him through difficult situations and feelings. Throwing his guilt on her when she was low was unfair.
The former soldier knelt before her seated position at the edge of the bed. Gently, he pulled the clothes still in her hands from her grasp, setting them aside so he could cradled her fingers in his palm. "I'm grateful we have this time together, regardless of whether it's fair or not. Either Wanda will be glad you spoke up about her whereabouts or she will understand. Okay?"
Turning to look at him with a weak smile, she agreed, "Okay."
He tilted his head up for a kiss. She responded to the warm caress of his lips, the tender movements against her mouth. Tongues explored languidly, warm breath and soft sighs passing between them. Eventually, Harper pulled back, resting her forehead against his.
"Sex?" she suggested.
Bucky couldn't help his relieved laugh.
Bucky had to begrudgingly admit to himself that Harper had been correct. Her fingers weaving through his hair did feel quite nice, and he could already appreciate the utility of her work. When she had suggested he allow her to do his hair, he had thought it a silly notion. Sure, his mane had grown a bit wild during his time in Wakanda, but styling it wasn't of interest. However, when she had insisted he had given in and sat on the floor, leaning against the bed. Harper sat with her legs folded beneath her at the edge of the mattress.
His eyes had quickly fallen closed and his body had relaxed when she carefully ran her brush through his long hair. He leaned into her touch when she scratched lightly at his scalp. Then her fingers had carefully taken the front sections of his hair and woven them together in two small, separate braids that joined at the back of his head. He thought it might not be a look he'd like anyone else to see, but it did keep all of the bothersome strands out of his eyes.
Harper leaned down when she had finished, pressing a kiss atop his head. Bucky tilted his chin up, accepting another kiss on his forehead. His lips rose in a small, serene smile. He admitted, "This feels like the good ol' days back in Bucharest."
Her arms slid around his shoulders and she rested her cheek against his. "We do the domestic thing pretty well for two fucked up people."
Bucky laughed and replied, "We really do. Have for quite a while, too."
"That's arguably true," she agreed.
"I used to think about that – doing the domestic thing with you – even before we were together. Back when I was terrified of ruining our friendship and of having to run."
"Really?" the brunette asked, clearly surprised. "How long did you have feelings for me before we got together?"
"A while," he admitted. "I didn't really notice them building, but they came to my attention that first night we had dinner at Florin's."
"Well, shit…" she muttered. "Our relationship is a story of lost time, evidently."
"You had feelings for me back then?"
"I had feelings for you starting when you would sit with me after my clusters and talk. You accepted me at a really low point and were willing to sit in your own vulnerabilities alongside me and mine. Nobody in my life has ever really been able to stay with me during my clusters. I told you Josh left as soon as they started. My friends and family know about them of course, but none of them can bear being present during them. But you always could."
"How could I have left you alone like that?"
"I knew I'd found myself in the company of a good, caring man unlike any I'd met before. And I was right."
Bucky's chest twisted and he had to swallow a growing lump in his throat. The beautiful woman holding him was always able to meet his needs – even those he couldn't or wouldn't acknowledge. That he might still be a good man was a shred of hope he fought to cling to, and she made it that much easier to hold on.
Harper found herself once again studying beneath the hot sun. She supposed she could have stayed inside. It would have been better on her skin and constitution, and she would have been less distracted from her work. However, the distraction was well worth the negatives. To be able to watch her boyfriend work was a treat not to be passed up.
Her eyes followed his muscular form as he worked the small goat farm. His bare arm heaved bales of hay and hoisted buckets of water, all the while his muscles rippling with exertion. She could make out the bands of muscle in his back flexing and working, too, thanks to the fabric of his shirt clinging to his form. Sweat glistened across his sun-kissed skin. His hair shone with it, too, but somehow this only added to the appeal of the strong, laboring man.
He paused suddenly, which broke the spell. Bright brown eyes looked past him, seeing three figures in the distance which seemed to be approaching. Lifting a hand above her eyes to shield the sun, she still couldn't make out their identities.
"James, are you expecting anyone?" she called.
"No," he shook his head.
A few minutes later, it was revealed that the visitors were T'Challa and two of his guards. Wordlessly, one of the guards lifted a large black case onto the wooden fence enclosing the pasture. Harper stood from her perch, craning her neck to no avail.
In a dark voice, James asked, "Where's the fight?"
A wave of cold fear crashed through her body. Harper's fingers gripped her book tighter and she began to approach the group.
"On its way," the Wakandan King answered grimly.
The brunette's quick footsteps had soon brought her in close enough to see the contents of the case – a new prosthetic arm in a dark metal which shone brilliantly in the afternoon sun.
"When?" James asked, the darkness in his tone deepening.
"By our best guess? Tomorrow. We have incoming reinforcements that should arrive within the next few hours."
Harper's brain fizzled to a stop, shock numbing her mind and body alike. Just like her life in Bucharest had come to a grinding halt, so too had her blissful reunion.
A/N: Thank you for all of the continued support, and apologies for missing an upload last week. As the ending hinted at, I'm taking liberties with the timeline again since Infinity War was pretty vague about the passage of time between events. Also, it should be clear now that we're nearing the end of this sequel. The good news is that I have made significant strides on the third and (most likely) final installment of this series. I'm nearly done summer semester, so I think the third part could realistically start going up not too terribly long after this story is completely posted. Anyway, please continue to share your thoughts, and thank you again for sticking with me!