10
You woke up the next morning to a sharp and warm ray of sunshine in the corner of your eye. The feeling of the soft sheets between your toes, as you stretched them out, felt unbelievably surreal. You hadn't forgotten where you were, but the reminder of it made you feel a kind of happiness that you knew you should be guilty for. Not ready to face the shine of a brand new day directly into your irises, you turn around onto your other side. You bring the heavy comforter up to your chin, eyes darting briefly to the empty spot where Bucky had slept next to you last night.
Sitting up halfway on one arm, you rubbed your eyes with your other hand. He wasn't in the main area, so he must've been in the bathroom or the kitchen. You knew for a fact that he wouldn't have any reason to leave until tonight when his part of the mission started.
You thanked him in your head for keeping all the lights still off. It was easy on your eyes and made it physically easier for you to climb to the other side of the bed and up onto your feet.
You were never a morning person.
You walked to the dinning area and saw that your plans from the previous night had been neatly stacked on the corner of the table. Across the room by the couches, the TV was on but with no sound. Your eyes furrowed together at the absurdly of it. You weren't going to lie, you were expecting The Capitol in Hydra's hands would be more of a North Korea type of situation. You weren't expecting them to willingly be showing reruns of I Love Lucy at — you look down at the digital clock — seven thirty AM.
"I made coffee, if you want some." The gruff voice came from behind you. You quickly turned around to see Bucky leaning against the side of the hallway that led into the kitchen. He was staring at you with a look you couldn't detect, but his eyes quickly darted up over your shoulder to what you had been looking at, "I was surprised, too."
You look back at the television with a smile and then followed him into the kitchen.
Bucky sat at the little breakfast nook in the corner reading what looked like a document as you sipped some delicious coffee. You practically cooed at how delightfully warm it made your insides.
It had been ages since you had some.
You looked up from your cup and back up at Bucky. His eyes were tightly knit together in concentration and you are reminded of your conversation you had yesterday. Steve's plan replays in your head and you feel happy that you finally got Bucky to open up about at least something. You decide then that this would be the perfect opportunity for you to offer an olive branch.
He barely looks up as you slide into the chair directly across from him.
You clear your throat, feeling a little more nervous now.
"I used to work at a diner before all this. That was my last job before the fall," you cup the warm mug in both hands, watching the swirls of light brown and the steam flow into the air, "this reminds me of the coffees I would make. It's nice."
You look up to see Bucky's reaction. If it weren't for you looking directly at the corner of his eye, you would've missed the slight twitch that it gave, indicating he had heard you.
You drink the rest of your coffee in silence, minus for the occasional shuffling of papers as Bucky continued to read.
Eventually, he spoke.
"There was only one job opening I could find on last notice in the area noted as red, where our targets could be." You could hear the disappointment in his voice and you perked your brow in intense interest, "It's walk-in, I don't think a real interview is even required, but they open at ten AM if you want to go then and check it out," you were surprised that he was giving you a choice and this interested you even more, "or I don't mind waiting a few more hours and seeing what else might be available."
"Where's the job?" You ask, cutting to the chase.
Bucky hesitated for a moment before handing one of the pages over to you.
You read it over, finding yourself flushing deep red.
"A sex club?"
"I'll see what else I can find. I just need a little more time—"
You could easily tell this was making him highly uncomfortable and you found it mildly amusing.
"Bucky, it's fine. I'd be bartending. I wouldn't even see or do anything — like that," he looked at you and the paper and his jaw ticked, "and like you said, we have no time to waste. I'll go at ten, as soon as they open."
Bucky looks at the paper one more time before giving a curt nod. He pulls out another piece of a paper.
"The club is in zone A, we are looking for a man named Silas. He was known to be affiliated with Sword way back, switched to Hydra and worked on hands with some men who were in the political party under the ring leader. We aren't sure for certain if it would lead us to him, but we need as much insight and connections as we can."
The Ring Leader. The man that killed your parents. You felt the bile in your throat, knowing you'd be so close to his affiliates. This was having an affect on you, even though you've already heard part of this before.
Bucky noticed your reaction.
"He's known for never appearing the public eye, according to Sharron, so I doubt you will run into him personally." He looks down at the papers once more and then you again, "Dirty work is my part. You just need to give me information. You said you could do this and I expect you to follow through."
You know you did, this time it just felt more real. You always envisioned killing your parent's killer, but you're lying if you said part of you never thought it was some unreachable dream.
But it wasn't, this was happening.
You had just enough time to have a second cup of coffee — you couldn't resist — , brush your teeth, shower, and order some clothes off that AI which were promptly delivered to your room. By the time you had to leave, Bucky was taking his own shower, so you didn't have a chance to give a proper goodbye.
You were a little thankful for that. You never knew when your conversation would turn into another olive branch or argument. You both left it on a good note at the breakfast nook, and you wanted to leave it that way.
The layout of The Capitol, was no different than New York City. It was obvious that your parents had wanted to keep it as normal as possible, probably for good reasons. A sense of normality and comfort was always nice. As you walked the streets, you wondered if most of these people realized they had only been chosen because of their wealth status, occupation, or status quo in general.
Thankfully, the club had only been a few blocks from the residential tower, so it took you no longer than twenty minutes to get there.
As you stood at the entrance, you looked down at your attire, hoping it was a good enough choice for this particular job. You chose a slightly cut down top which emphasized your cleavage and tight black pants. You had a long, black coat with a hood thrown over it. You presented your ID to the doorman to show him you were of age and he let you in.
Stepping foot into the club was exhilarating. For being so early in the morning, there were already a good handful of people scattered around. There were chic tables where people were eating, both men and women, and at the bar in the back there were already two people. You could tell this place was on the high end side since most of the men wore either a suit or a dress shirt and tie. The women were wearing surprisingly un-slutty dresses. You wondered to yourself if this where most of them came to discuss business. The music wasn't too loud, but the bass automatically affected your heart.
At the center of the room there were gorgeous dark mahogany stairs that led into the downstairs area. You wondered if that was where the sex happened.
You felt yourself blush as you walked passed it and towards the hostess.
She was a cute red head with striking red lips. Her voice was just as gorgeous as her appearance as she spoke.
"Hi, do you have a reservation? I see you didn't lock in the membership card."
"N—no, I actually wanted to see if the bartending job was still open." You said in a small voice.
"Oh, sure. If you don't have an interview, you might have to fill out an application and wait for our notification of return. Give me one moment I will find out for you." She said.
You simply nodded with a smile.
You heard an obnoxious laughter from behind you and your eyes darted to a blonde man in the corner of the club. He was at a table with three other men. He wore a black fitted suit, expensive looking, and a shiny watch on his hand. A doctor? Lawyer?
Hydra?
The reminder of where exactly you were hit you like a freight train and you tried to control the emotions that overwhelmed you.
Stay cool.
"You can actually go straight into the back with Pietro. He'll go over the job with you." The pretty girl said with a bright smile as she walked back over to you.
You shook your fearful feelings away and thanked her.
Your short heeled boots felt heavy on your feet as you met Pietro's pretty eyes over the bar. He threw you a small smile as he placed a bottle of Grey Goose on the glass shelf.
"Hi, the girl told me I needed to fill an application. I didn't know —" you started, your thumb poking over your shoulder as you explained yourself.
He waved a hand at you, "No, need. Just tell me you have experience and if you can make top five most popular drinks, and you're hired."
You swallowed thickly as you hesitantly walked around the bar.
"Uhm, I mean I worked a summer after high school at an Applebees bar. Before -" you looked at him unsure as you wondered how to say what you wanted to say. You realized that these people never experience The Fall or The War. He looked at you confused, waiting for you to continue, "before I also did some waitressing." You lied, awkwardly.
He nodded.
"That should be fine. Can you mix well?" He asked, You nodded, "Great. Back here you have the expensive liquors. Yamakazi, Clase Azul, Brignac, Macallan, Cognac, etcetera. Usually requires a key. I can get it for you. On the main you have your regulars, John Walker, Bacardi, Smirnoff, Captain Morgan, the usual tea. Got it?"
You took it all in.
"Got it."
'Great. You can start now. Shifts are Monday, Thursdays, and Fridays ten AM to five PM. Let me know when you want your lunch, and I'll jump in for you for the hour."
That sounded fine to you.
"Okay." he threw you another warm smile and your heart broke when you realized it reminded you of Will.
"Our clients are usually very high end. They require at least a two thousand dollar month membership to get in," your eyebrows practically shot up in shock, "you're lucky we are desperate right now. Looks like nothing but it'll pick up in the next three hours or so."
Pietro wasn't lying. After noon, the club was swarming with people. You found yourself making about ten drinks every half-hour, by two o'clock, double the amount.
Unfortunately, no one of interest had walked in yet. They were all men, younger and older, who were obviously there for a quick drink to loosen up to have some sex. You found yourself disappointed, and you were scared of how Bucky would react if you were to come home tonight with nothing at all.
You had to find something. Anything.
That something came around four o'clock dressed to the nines in a black dress and white heels with red soles.
A girl who looked like how you felt almost all the time.
She let out a pathetic sigh as she asked for her drink. You gave her a soft smile and handed it to her. You watched as she sipped slowly, her thoughts obviously else where as she drew imaginary lines on the bar top.
After her second drink, you dove in.
"It'll be okay, whatever it is you're feeling." You say.
She was momentarily surprised. At first she appeared shocked that you were speaking to her, but then her eyes softened.
"I'm just so tired of everything. I'm so pathetic."
"I doubt that. I mean, you're absolutely gorgeous. You seem like a nice girl, too." You say softly.
She lets out a bashful laugh and looks away.
"Thanks," she looks back up at you, "You're really nice. Are you new here? I haven't seen you before."
"Yeah, today is my first day."
"Well, good luck. You get quite a handful here, lemme tell ya." She swallows the rest of her whiskey in one gulp.
You watch, intrigued.
"Why's that?"
"This is where all the hot task fore men come. All the CIA hotties, FBI, and cops who killed —" she leaned in obnoxiously close to whisper to you, "hydra, with their own hands." You felt your blood run cold and you masked your surprise as much as you could.
"Really, now?" You gave a fake smile, to play like you were interested.
"Oh, yeah! What's hotter than that? I just wish the Avengers survived. The terrorists out there never should've killed them."
After your first day at work, you couldn't get to your room fast enough.
As you ran past Bucky who sat on one the couches, you all but missed the look he had on his face.
"What the hell are you wearing?" He asked.
"I had to look the job," you said hurriedly. He continued to look at you like you had three heads before you sat down next to him, eager as can be, "You won't find out what I found out, Bucky."
He motioned for you both to head over to the dinning area where he set up a recording and sat across from you.
You took a deep breath, crossing your hands and placing them on the table.
"So this club isn't just a sex club, I mean it is, but it's like a rich people thing. There's a two thousand dollar starting membership, two thousand dollars, and that's not including the downstairs area packages." You ranted.
Bucky was rubbing his temples as he let out a sigh.
"Bucky, they don't just not know that Hydra is behind all this. Okay? They wholeheartedly believe that these men are the ones who killed Hydra. They believe in this civil system," you look down, "but that's not the only thing, they—" you look at him and sigh, "they think that the people out there, behind the wall, are bad people. That they are all terrorists. They think they killed the remainder good people. Including The Avengers."
Bucky's face fell as he ran a hand through his hair.
"I know," you said, "This is beyond complicated. Even more so than we thought."
Bucky nodded, "That's good that you found that out. I mean, it was one thing to know that most of the population in here don't know that this is Hydra, I mean good work on finding proof, even though we already knew that," he gives you a glare, "but from what you said, it definitely runs deeper than anticipated. And no mention of any Silas? No suspicious men?"
You scoffed.
"They were all suspicious," you let out a long breath, "it's going to be hard finding out who he is out of all of them without help. Do we at least have a physical hint we can work with? Haircut? Mole? Distinctive facial features?"
Bucky shook his head as he bit his lip, deep in thought.
Your jaw ticked, until realization hit you.
"Wait, I know." You say.
"What?" He asks.
"I can try to access their membership system. Maybe in Pietro's office. There could be a name under his membership."
"Okay, yeah, good strategy. What's this Pietro's guy's hours?"
"Today five PM to three AM. So you want me to look?"
Bucky turned off the recorder and stood up.
"No."
Disbelief washed over you.
"No?"
He walked over to the closet in the bedroom and grabbed his coat.
"Correct, no. Your job is to get this information for me. It's my job to do the actual real job."
"Come on, Bucky. I can work a damn computer."
"No, I can't risk that."
You run up to him and grab his arm, he stares down at you, baffled.
"Please." You beg.
"I'll be back in an hour."
Bucky shuttered as he sat outside the window in the ally next to the the infamous sex club.
From his angle, he could easily see inside what he assumed was Pietro's office. He knew it was the guy's shift so he should have a wide enough angle. Bucky watched the door warily. After checking for security cameras, with skill, he cracked the lock on the window open, and crawled through.
He pulled out his sharp knife from inside his coat and walked up to the door. He stuck it in the small hole in the door knob and locked it. That should buy him some time incase Pietro were to walk back in.
He walked to the computer and opened the system. No unlocking needed. Bucky rolled his eyes.
He quickly found the membership data base. His dick stirred in his jeans as he read things he hasn't thought about in decades.
MEMBERSHIP PACKAGES - NDA's PROTECTION INCLUDED
Basic
SEX - Condom Necessary
No Oral
No kissing
Silver
SEX- Condom or Raw option available
KINK SHAME option
No Oral
Kissing OK
Platinum
SEX- Condom or Raw option available
BDSM
KINK SHAME option
ANAL
Oral - Female and Male Receiving
Kissing OK
Watching ….
…and so on.
Bucky let out a long breath as he continued to the Name search. He typed in Silas.
1 Match
He clicked on the profile.
Silas Kuznetsov
Platinum Membership
There weren't any more personal info except for his picture, which is exactly what Bucky was looking for.
He was taking in his face as best he could when the door knob started shaking.
"What the hell?" A voice with an accent came from behind the door.
Bucky quickly got up from his seat and started closing out the pages. He put the computer to sleep.
Quickly, Bucky managed to squeeze his way out the window. Bucky let out a long breath as he rested against the brick wall of the alleyway, but it wasn't because Pietro had almost walked in.
"Did you get it?" You voice was anxious as you heard the front door close.
Bucky walked to the dining area with a huff. He grabbed the piece of paper in the corner and began to scribble down.
You walked over to him and began to read what he was writing.
"Sharp nose, blue yes, brown hair," you chuckled, "you sure you weren't looking into a mirror?" Bucky growled as he continued to write, "A small cut on his left eyebrow. There we go."
He took the paper and handed it to you, his face unreadable, "Think you can work with that?"
"Yeah, this is great."
He gave you a nod and walked away.
Neither of you spoke for the rest of the night. Thankfully, you were able to order some take out via the AI, and you had Japanese food delivered to you in no time.
On the couch, you chewed on your Teriyaki as you watched Bucky staring at the food, but not eating it.
"Sorry, I should've asked if you liked Japanese food."
"I do, I just don't understand why you bought so much. A waste of money. We're here for six months, not six days." He snaps.
You throw your food onto the table and walk away, pissed.
"God, I seriously can't with you." You say.
"Nice. Throw the four hundred dollar food around, Y/N. Be a brat."
You pull on your hair as you let out a groan.
"It was like fifty," You took a deep breath and tried your best to collect yourself and your emotions before walking back to the living room. You took a good look at Bucky who was still staring at the food, still with a blank look on his face, "Bucky."
He looks at you, his eyes empty.
You took a deep breath.
"Olive branch." You say.
"What?"
"Last night, you told me something very personal," he looks away, "I didn't take that information for granted, okay? I didn't forget it. And then this morning, I told you something about me. Remember?" Your voice was surprisingly calm now.
Bucky sighed as he leaned his elbow forward on his knee. He runs a hand through his hair.
"Do you know what that is? That's us opening up to each other, trying to find some collective ground. Some peace, some kindness. I know you don't like me, but I'm trying here. Please." You had told him please hundreds of times before in the past but not like this. Never like this.
For a moment you almost saw an emotion on his face that wasn't hatred or anger, or blank. For a moment you thought he had finally gave in.
"And those spring rolls, I got those for you." You say.
You walk away, leaving him on the couch, and your now cold teriyaki on the table.
Minutes passed and you were huddled into the bed, blankets pulled up to your chin, when he finally sat down on his side. You could feel the bed dip down.
You could hear him let out a sigh.
"Come on, go eat your food. I picked it off the table and put it back on the plate for you." Those simple words and gesture was enough for your heart to swell.
You didn't move as you continued to stare at the same light across your window you had been staring at the entire time. You still couldn't tell if it was an apartment or an office. You felt the bed shift again.
Then you felt it let up as he stood up. You closed your eyes, wishing sleep would take you away from this annoying situation.
"You want an olive branch? I couldn't sleep next to you because the last time I slept next to a woman it was with someone I loved." His words makes your throat suddenly sore. Were you going to cry because he was saying something you knew was so private to him? Was it because he was finally trying? Or was he trying to insult you? Which one? " It was seventy-six years ago. That was the last time."
You are both silent for a few moments longer. You hear Bucky clear his throat.
"There, now go eat your food." He says.
"Was it Daisy?" You ask.
The silence is loud after your question as you suddenly want to take it back. What were you doing? Adding fuel to the fire?
"He told you?" His tone is incredulous and you know he's referring to Steve.
"Yes. He told me about your girlfriend."
Another beat of silence.
"She wasn't my girlfriend. She was my fiancé."
God damn it, Steve.
Your eyes close together again. Tightly.
"How old was she?"
"Just a little younger than you."
You suck in a deep breath as you feel your bottom lip shaking.
"I'm sorry."
"Will you come eat now?"
"Only if you tell me the story." He doesn't say anything, "Olive branch." You add.
That night he tells you about Daisy over a bowl of rice and teriyaki. It should've left you satisfied, but all it left you was with what was initially a small crush was now developing into something that terrified you.
You felt it as you watched him talk about their first kiss, and when he proposed. You felt it in your heart even more when he finally took a bite out of his spring roll.
New York, NY 1938
There's an eery feeling that surrounds your heart the moment you hear metal grinding on metal. It's a screech that's loud, piercing, and beautifully haunting.
It reminds you of things you thought you had forgotten, like that time you walked down the street holding your father's hand as a child. Your little digits would wrap around his one pointer finger, holding on tightly.
At the exact moment you would look up behind your tiny lashes and see him wearing that hat that always resembled "dad", and you would run your finger over that little crook of imperfection in his skin. You were young, you couldn't exactly comprehend that feeling you felt during those moments; that tightness in your chest that came from wondering if this moment would last forever- though you already knew the answer.
But whatever they were, those feelings, they were foreshadowing the future when you would long miss them, but little did you know it wasn't the last time you would feel that feeling.
People pass by in slow motion in a life that just doesn't make sense to him. He knows it isn't the end, that there's something wrong, and nothing is ever right.
He didn't want to forget things that he never knew would one day make him fall apart. Apparently, there's a name for that feeling, and it's called melancholy.
Bucky knew that feeling all too damn well and he would come to know it for decades on end.
It flickers behind the glistening tears in his blue eyes when he watches a gentleman's fingers ghost over the white and black keys of the grand piano in the corner of the fancy bar.
He gulps. His little sister used to play.
He swears that the keys and the haunting grinding almost hums along in perfect sync with his heart . He feels like this, whatever it is, isn't forever.
Standing at that moment, being happy and holding Daisy's hand, was a passing memory in his mind. He feels the pain and he wants it to stop. He wants the hurt to stop, and more than anything, he wants to stay here . He hears a screeching scream echoing, coming from deep within his head, as if it was coming from the future. He trembles.
"James." It takes him a moment to notice there's a soft hand on his left cheek and that the voice isn't imaginary. He blinks slowly and looks towards the direction that the hand is coming from.
It's blonde and beautiful.
For a fraction of a second he chuckles, almost relieved, and leans into the open palm. Clearly, he had been caught up in something that was not reality. Her blue eyes stare down at him in concern, her own starting to glisten from seeing how sad he looked.
"Are you okay?"
Her question is genuine and concerning. Daisy tried to not feel fear as she watched the white fires behind his eyes, in a daze far away.
His eyes open slowly and he smiles sweetly at the face above him. That sound of grinding metal returns, but this time it's only just beautiful; so damn beautiful.
He nods slowly and tenderly places a kiss in her hand, "Always, doll." Daisy's eyes look more easy now and he can tell that her worry has dissipated. Her frown turns into a smirk as he says, "That man sure knows how'da play a tune. It's almost as beautiful as you."
