As Time Goes By

by BouncingKappa

Sequel to Songbirds and Bombshells! Sadie Reid disappeared in 1949, never to be seen again until she resurfaces in 2016 with no memory of how she got there and one clue: the dog tags of her supposedly dead fiance, Bucky Barnes. Bucky is in Wakanda hoping for a chance at the freshest start he can get. Love found them once in the unlikeliest place, can it bring them together again?

16. Like Real People Do

A/N: Regular updates are so fun, aren't they? Hello from quarantine – the whole Kappa house has Covid but we're all doing great! Nothing else of note from my neck of the woods.

Thank you a million times over for all of the follows, favorites and reviews! You sure know how to warm a writer's cold, dead heart. Extra love to Not Enough Answers who has graciously agreed to beta the fic and talk me off my many, many metaphorical ledges. NEA is the real MVP y'all. Chapter title is after the Hozier song.

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel. If I did it would be like…all Oscar Isaac all the time.

Chapter 16 – Like Real People Do

The thunk of a man straightening out a thick sheaf of papers on his desk was the only sound that filled the otherwise silent room. Holding the pages between his wrinkled hands, he tapped them several times on the wood veneer, taking up time while he ensured the attention of every person in the room was on him. The man's watery eyes were set beneath unruly salt and pepper eyebrows and his forehead was slightly shiny, stretching up to his receding hairline. Deep frown lines carved out the skin around his mouth and his skin was slightly red, as though the knot on his blue-striped tie was just a fraction too tight. A rumbling breath drew itself from his lungs.

"Alright, let's get started."

Sadie shifted in her seat, uncrossing and recrossing her ankles. The scale of the meeting room surpassed her expectations and, like many other formal spaces in D.C., it was regal in its design, the deep blue carpet patterned with gold knots that complimented the white columns running up the white walls. Before her, the desk holding the Joint House and Senate Accords Committee curved in a horseshoe, the shining dark wood polished to perfection and bearing the seal of the committee, burnished in gold. It struck Sadie as ironic, for a country that once desperately cleaved itself from monarchy, the government buildings embodied a lot of the same feeling. The elevated desk for the committee was designed to make her feel small, as though she were on trial despite having done nothing wrong.

To her right, Shuri crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair, supreme in her confidence. Shuri's attitude was commendable: she was probably the same age as some of the committee members' granddaughters, but she carried herself with ease and grace far beyond her tender years. She had little to worry about. As a royal dignitary, there was almost nothing the committee could do to touch her and somehow Sadie doubted anyone in the room would even dare to scold her.

To her left, Tony was similarly relaxed but where Sadie appreciated Shuri's cool attitude, she wanted to roll her eyes at Tony. Shuri was relaxed because she was assured in her abilities and had nothing to fear. Tony's devil-may-care posture was intended to be one giant middle finger to the bureaucracy he avidly hated. Judging from a few glares aimed in his direction, the feeling was more than mutual.

The head of the committee, Senator Ralston, went through the perfunctory business of beginning the meeting, getting names and titles on record and then fixed Sadie with his full attention. She raised her chin a fraction, partly in defiance and partly in curiosity.

"The purpose of this meeting today is to review the reports and receive a more detailed update on the progress of determining the extent and scope of the enhanced individual, Sarah Grace Reid."

Sadie fought a frown. No matter how many times she heard it, she still hated being called 'enhanced.' But that was the terminology under the Accords and, whether she liked it or not (and she didn't), if she didn't want to end up like Steve, she was hamstrung by the Accords, stupid definitions and all.

"In order to fully understand the current situation, I'd like to revisit the circumstances that led to Ms. Reid's present condition," said Senator Ralston, shuffling his papers, glancing down several times as he got his bearings. He then gestured towards Sadie. "Ms. Reid, in your own words would you describe the events leading up to your disappearance and recovery."

This? Again?

Sadie wondered how many more times in her lifetime she was going to have to tell this particular story. She'd reached the point that the details felt dull and unoriginal. Similar to how a word lost all meaning the more times she said it, rehashing Agent Murphy's dastardly betrayal and her subsequent kidnapping hardly felt real anymore, almost as though it had happened to someone else. In so many ways, Sadie wished that it had happened to someone else. At least that way she wouldn't be in this committee room, facing down a room of middle-aged politicians who, despite their varying appearances, were all still younger than she was by a long shot–though she'd noticed that her youthful appearance had a way of negating any respect she might have garnered otherwise. It seemed that even in this era, pretty women still struggled to be taken seriously.

Figuring that the sooner she forced out the details, the sooner they could move on to other topics, she launched into the explanation, trying her hardest not to sound as tired as she felt.

She'd barely finished giving her account of waking up temporarily in her cryo tube before passing out, only to wake up in the Avengers compound when someone snorted in disbelief. The nameplate read 'Rep. Greene' and the man sitting behind it was young, Sadie clocked him in his mid-forties with only a smattering of gray hair at his temples and his face still smooth. He adjusted the knot of his red tie and then offered a glassy, unimpressive smile that positively dripped with smarm.

"My apologies, Ms. Reid." He most certainly wasn't apologetic. "But you really have no memory of what occurred between your disappearance and being found?"

"That's correct."

His smirk widened and Sadie's distaste for him deepened. "Don't you find that a bit…well…odd?"

One of her eyebrows rose. "I find my lack of memory one of the least odd things about my situation."

Tony straightened a little in his seat, casting her a sidelong glance that she pointedly ignored. Irritation prickled the back of her throat, creeping down into the pit of her stomach.

Representative Greene's eyes narrowed slightly. "If I were to ask you how long you were in HYDRA custody, what its plans were for you, why it chose you as a subject for experimentation–assuming HYDRA is the source of your enhancements at all–you truthfully couldn't answer any of that?"

Sadie was brought back to the miserable hours she spent in the conference room at the Avengers compound, staring at Secretary Ross from across the sleek glass table. "No, I cannot. I believe that my memory loss has already been thoroughly documented by Secretary Ross."

At that point she allowed her head to turn towards the right, past Shuri to the table next to theirs. Secretary Ross met her cool, appraising gaze, and her silent prompt to confirm this part of her story. He cleared his throat and then nodded.

"That's correct. Though I think we all hoped that you would have made progress in that area by now."

Sadie folded her hands beneath the table, pressing the tips of her almond-shaped nails into her palms, not quite hard enough to draw blood lest she make a mess on her pastel blue suit dress, but just enough to feel the bite of pain. Leave it to the Secretary to find a way to not only confirm her story but simultaneously cast further doubt and aspersion on her.

Representative Greene sat back in his chair, rocking slightly as he considered the information before him. "What I'm hearing, Miss Reid, is that for all we know you could be a sleeper agent for HYDRA."

"If that were the case, I can only assume I'd be a fairly useless agent considering the organization in question is now thoroughly defunct."

Tony choked on a laugh and Sadie slapped his back a couple of times, not breaking eye contact with Representative Greene. His cheeks flushed along with the tips of his ears, bared by his waspy crew cut.

"My point," he said a little sharper than before. "Is that we don't know anything about you, Ms. Reid. For all we know you have the same programming as the Winter Soldier. The right sequence of words could turn you into something other than the charming young woman before us."

Sadie smiled; she simply couldn't stop herself. The change in her demeanor was the last thing she wanted to do but the proposition was ludicrous, not to mention being called 'young woman' as though she were a misbehaved teenager. But despite not meaning to let go of her self-control, the damage was done and she was forced into a corner.

"Did Representative say something amusing, Ms. Reid? Because from where I'm sitting he raises a valid concern."

"I apologize, Senator Ralston." She didn't mean her apology. "I'm afraid that the term 'young woman' hardly applies to me." Representative Greene turned, if possible, even redder. She glanced at Shuri. "We know from all of my early blood draws and scans that once I was placed in cryostasis, I remained there. I suppose that doesn't discount the possibility so much as the plausibility."

"Not just implausible, but impossible," Shuri confirmed, pressing the tips of her fingers together and resting her elbows on the table top. Every single person stared at her, awaiting further explanation. Personally, Sadie would have loved for her to tell them where they could shove their disbelief but she supposed it was better for Shuri to continue, which she eventually did after a delicate, entirely purposeful pause. "As part of my review of Ms. Reid's anatomy and physiology, I conducted several brain scans and neurological tests to determine how her enhancements may have impacted her brain tissue and neurological function. In part of those tests I studied her neural connections, searching for anomalies that might point to HYDRA interference and there were none."

Senator Ralston's brow furrowed and this time he was not the only one who started rifling through his papers. "I have all of your reports here, Princess, and I don't recall any information regarding–"

"That is because the parameters of my assignment were to determine the scope and extent of Ms. Reid's powers, not her nonexistent status as a HYDRA sleeper agent."

Judging from the way Senator Ralston's bushy eyebrows tried to disappear into his receding hairline, he was not accustomed to being interrupted. The lines on his face deepened with his disapproval, but what could he realistically do? Impertinent as she was, Shuri was untouchable in this room and she knew it.

"I take it your efforts with studying Ms. Reid have not included methods to recover her memories."

They'd never even had a conversation about recovering her memory. Shuri was one of the busiest people Sadie had ever met, from her duties to her brother, overseeing other research projects and tech development, helping Bucky, and unraveling Sadie's powers. Addressing her lost memories hadn't just taken the backseat–the subject was miles behind them on the road, lost in a cloud of dust. Lately, Sadie had been so busy coming to grips with her infertility and preparing for her diplomatic duties that she'd even forgotten about her lost chunk of time. Compared to everything happening in the present, a past she couldn't change that nobody remembered hardly felt relevant.

"Understanding Ms. Reid's powers is the more important priority," said Shuri as if that were completely obvious. "Until I can ensure that the alterations to her genetic structure are stable and there are no latent side-effects associated with her enhancements, the origins of her powers and lost memories must wait. If we are lucky, establishing the full extent of her genetic changes will also answer questions as to the origins of her powers, a note which I detailed in one of my reports."

Sadie pressed the tips of her nails back into her hand again. While it was expected that Shuri would make groundbreaking discoveries with her DNA and learn ways to alter and manipulate it to advance medical science, there was also the hope that she would answer several lingering questions. There more they understood about her powers, the more they could narrow down the options for how she got them and they were almost entirely certain about at least one part of the origin. Given that she was held by HYDRA at the same time Arnim Zola was experimenting with the super soldier serum, it was too much to believe she hadn't received some variant.

Two more committee members began long lines of questioning for Shuri, asking for more precise and scientific details concerning the research she'd conducted so far. Shuri answered them dutifully, taking the time to carefully explain the methods she used and the results contained in her purposefully vague reports. While she provided additional detail, Sadie noticed she was careful to sidestep certain details, not including their suspicions on the extent of her powers and the wide-ranging possibilities for what Sadie could really do once she was able to fully tap into her abilities.

It seemed that after Steve and Bucky's revelations the night before, Shuri was just as concerned as Sadie about her wellbeing. A stenographer sat nearby, dutifully taking down the entire hearing to be transcribed and then produced to become part of the public record. Knowing that anybody, curious black market dealers included, could just openly read about all of the unnecessary and juicy details about Sadie's enhancements didn't bode well for her. That morning, T'Challa made a particular point of warning his sister not to say too much, no matter how the committee might try to goad her. Sadie was grateful for his intervention, though she suspected that Shuri was already perfectly aware of their delicate situation.

Sadie evaluated the room while Shuri continued her song and dance. The news that her name was on a list of persons of interest to black market dealers was disconcerting, though not entirely shocking the more she stewed on it. If everything she and Shuri discovered was true, it was no wonder her DNA was considered so valuable–although Sadie couldn't imagine anyone else in the world was capable enough to do what Shuri could, except perhaps the man sitting to her left. What was far more upsetting was that she was almost certain there were people in the room with her that would prefer her to wind up in a lab under a microscope rather than frolicking in Wakanda where she was unreachable. If she was contained she was controlled and if she was controlled then she could be used for anyone's purpose, good and bad. The thought sent a chill through her and she thought of the way Bucky started to argue against her attending the committee meeting, only to stop when T'Challa quietly decreed the meeting must go forward.

Representative Greene cleared his throat again and fixed Sadie with a hard stare. Vitriol bubbled into her throat; she was really starting to hate this guy!

"Ms. Reid. Where are Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes?"

A pin drop could be heard across the street in the ensuing silence. To her left, Tony went ramrod straight. To her right, Shuri stopped inspecting her nails.

"I don't know."

Depending on how Sadie chose to rationalize that answer, she was either telling the truth or telling a bold-faced lie. On the one hand, she truly didn't know where they were at the moment. When she left the embassy, they were preparing to manage their captive's return and follow a couple of other less promising leads. Where those shady dealings would take them, she honestly had no clue but if she had to wager a guess, it was nowhere good. On the other hand, their pinpoint location wasn't exactly what Representative Greene had been asking for and Sadie knew it. What he really wanted to know what whether she was in communication with them, whether she knew what they were doing and where they were conducting their operations.

"Has either of them tried to contact you in the time you've been awake?"

"No, they haven't."

"Really." Sadie couldn't tell if he simply didn't believe her or if he was trying to trip her up. "Your former commander and your ex-fiancé? Neither one of them?"

"I've spent the majority of my time in Secretary Ross's custody and then in Wakanda. So, I think they'd have a hard time of it."

Under the table, covered by the table cloth, Sadie kicked Shuri in the ankle to prevent her from laughing.

"And when you were in Vienna?"

"No, sir."

"And here in D.C.?"

"Again, no. Forgive me for asking, but what does the whereabouts of Steve and Bucky have to do with my enhancements and the Accords investigation Princess Shuri is conducting?"

"I would like to know that, too."

A senator further down the table, a middle-aged woman who had asked several polite and excellent questions about Shuri's methodology, leaned forward to look down at Representative Greene. He shrugged his shoulders in a defensive manner and then gestured to Sadie.

"As of now, both Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers and his companions are fugitives of the state under the Accords. You don't want to know if one of the last surviving connections to both men has any clue where they are?"

Sadie's temper was so thin it was transparent and as fragile as tissue paper. Was this why she'd been brought here? To be accused of lying, to be hounded about her personal history, about her past and asked questions completely off the topic at hand?

"I'm happy to reiterate for you, Senator. I don't know where Steve and Bucky are. Neither of them have attempted to make contact. Even if they tried, they would have to go through the Dora Milaje to do it in person since they don't have my phone number."

A number of committee members chuckled. Whether it was her sharp retort or his colleagues laughing at him–perhaps both–Representative Greene closed his mouth, stifling his next question. Senator Ralston scowled.

"Now that we've established that, I'd like to turn to other matters."

He gathered his papers and tapped the stack on his desk once more. Sadie bit the inside of her cheek to hold her groan and she stamped both feet onto the floor to keep herself from sliding down her chair.

It was going to be a long morning.

X X X

By the time the committee released Sadie, she was about as hungry and indignant as she'd ever been.

"It could have been worse," Tony tried to reassure her in his infuriating way that was anything but reassuring. "You should have seen the circus I went through."

Irritation held the bridge of her nose in a vice grip, squeezing tighter with each one of Tony's flippant comments or Shuri's eye-rolling dismissal of the entire affair. Every time Sadie thought she felt the first twinges of actual pain coming on, little flickers of green infiltrated her peripheral vision, chasing away the headache. That only made her angrier, on the verge of stamping her feet like a toddler mid-temper tantrum.

"How much of the circus did you create just by being you?"

Tony didn't even blink in the face of her sharp question. Instead he unbuttoned his jacket with a bit of a flourish and loosened the knot on his silk tie. If she didn't know any better, she was walking next to Howard's twin, the way he shoved his hands in his pockets and squinted up into the midday sun.

"A fair bit," he said but shrugged. "All I'm saying is that it wasn't the witch hunt it could have been."

"Yet."

Shuri's single word stopped Sadie dead in her tracks. The other two pressed on ahead several paces before realizing she'd stopped walking. In all her brief but illuminating weeks of knowing Shuri, she'd never once shown the slightest waver in her confidence that everything was going to turn out fine.

"What do you mean by yet?"

"I did my best to hedge my answers," Shuri said, lowering her voice so only Sadie and Tony could hear. "But we are only beginning to scratch the surface of your powers, I'm certain of it. It is only a matter of time before the U.S. comes calling for you or the UN demands you either sign the Accords and wait for you to make one wrong move if you don't."

A nasty, prickly feeling forced its way down Sadie's throat to land hard in the pit of her stomach, stretching it down to her heels. Was there anyone on the planet that wasn't trying to stake a claim on her powers? It was bad enough that she was apparently on the radar of black market dealers who would do God-only-knew-what with her, but she apparently wouldn't fare much better in the hands of her own government. Even Shuri, as lovely as she was, had a vested interest in the outcome of their research and Sadie's usefulness to Wakanda really only went so far beyond that. Now, more than ever, she felt like a prisoner in her own body, saddled with a so-called bounty that she didn't want or ask for.

Something on her face must have given her frustration away. Her brows tensed to the point of pain and she could feel her teeth grinding together as she tried to get her head around the enormity of her situation. Her ankles felt wobbly but it wasn't her high heels; it was the fact that the ground felt like sand, constantly shifting and forcing her to constantly course correct in order to stay upright, with precious few people to lean on if she started to fall.

A hand landed on her elbow and she almost shook it off. Tony frowned. "This isn't the time or place," he warned both women. As soon as he delivered his warning, he perked back up and, assured that Sadie wasn't going to keel over, gave her a hearty pat on the shoulder. "Toto, you're looking peaky. Are you hungry? I'm starving. How about lunch?"

"I–food? At a time like this?"

Tony fished his glasses out of his pocket and slid them on. "There's never a wrong time for a good meal. I'm craving sushi? Ever had it?" Before Sadie could even shake her head no, he waved her off as if her answer wasn't even remotely interesting. "I know a great place, real hole in the wall, you'll love it. Princess?"

Shuri, not one to pass up the opportunity to explore more of the world outside of Wakanda's borders and embassies, grinned. "I'm game."

That left Sadie with no choice but to follow her companions. Whether Tony didn't like the optics of one of his friends brooding too much or he was genuinely concerned, he went out of his way to change the topic, forcing them down other avenues to keep her mind busy. The food in itself was a distraction and although Sadie enjoyed their lunch, she was glad to escape into the embassy for a little while before the Pan African Symphony performance at the Kennedy Center.

Leaving Shuri to debrief T'Challa, Sadie trudged upstairs, thinking with longing for her bed or a bath, whichever one she sank into first. Turning off the landing, she made her way down the hall to her room but paused when she passed an open door. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Bucky sitting on the floor, sitting in front of a semi circle of papers, riddled with sticky notes and the end of a pen dangling from his lips. Unbidden to her, a smile touched the corners of her mouth. Strands of his long hair escaped his haphazard ponytail and his gray t-shirt stretched pleasantly across his shoulders. He was so engrossed in his notes that he didn't immediately notice her approach his doorway. The sight wasn't altogether unfamiliar; during the war he'd prepare for missions and prisoner interrogations this way, pulling briefing packets apart so he could see everything laid out before him to learn it all.

The tip of her heel gently dragged along the hardwood floor when she went to lean against the door frame and he glanced up, blinking owlishly at her a moment before relaxing.

"Hey, how did the Committee meeting go?"

"Terribly."

He frowned. "Lots of tough questions?"

"Lots of over-inflated egos."

Bucky traded his concern for a small smile. "Were you expecting anything different from Congress?"

"No." She scowled. "I don't know. I guess I thought maybe they'd be a little less…"

"Insufferable?"

"Accusatory."

Bucky leaned back on his hands, looking comically childish even if his face was anything but. "What happened?"

Sadie was glad he asked. She was glad that he was engaging with her again, that he wanted to be fully involved in her life. Earlier she'd been exasperated because it seemed everyone wanted something from her and that her powers were more important than she was, but that wasn't true. Bucky wasn't concerned about a few flickers of green light, he was concerned about her, about how she was weathering the storm. The impulse to close the gap and melt into his arms was so strong that it drew her into his room, but she stopped short of making a mess of his papers. Instead, she sat on the edge of the sofa and told him all about her various exchanges with the committee and their intrusive questions. He even snorted in laughter when she mentioned Representative Greene's outlandish claims that she could be a sleeper agent for HYDRA.

"I don't think anyone in HYDRA had a clue how powerful you were. Trust me, if Zola knew what you could do he'd have never put you on ice."

Coming from anyone else, Sadie might have been discomfited. But Bucky had experience that nobody else did and insight into HYDRA that few others could claim. She trusted his observations and found some comfort in knowing that, at the very least, she'd dodged a bullet when it came to being a tool of HYDRA.

In the comfort and quiet of his room, she didn't feel so self-conscious. With Bucky, she didn't need to police her every move and he even smiled a little when she fished her necklace from beneath her dress so she could toy with her father's wedding ring. She spun the gold over the tip of her finger over and over while they discussed the whole farcical exercise.

"It was the way they talked to me," she admitted at last, slumping back into the thick cushions. "Like I'm a criminal who conveniently forgot her crimes. Nobody seems to remember that I didn't ask for any of this."

"I haven't."

The weight distribution shifted, tipping Sadie slightly towards Bucky when he sat next to her, stretching his arm across the back of the sofa. She almost shivered when Bucky caught up one of her curls on his fingers, rustling the hair against her neck, tripping her nerves. An understood melancholy passed between them, each of them quietly acknowledging the weight of his words. Bucky knew better than anyone the burden of unwanted enhancements. All things considered, especially compared to Bucky, she'd gotten off relatively light. She hadn't left a trail of bloody footprints through history and although her nightmares were disturbing in their own right, she wasn't haunted by her own actions the way Bucky was. There was also no point in Bucky apologizing again for his part in her disappearance and subsequent torture. They both knew there wasn't anything either of them could do to change the past and continually beating it into the ground wouldn't get them any closer to moving on with their lives.

Sadie raised her hand and with the slightest flick of her fingers, produced the green light. It wound its way around her fingers, jumping from one digit to another, following the movements of her hand like some semi-sentient, incredibly clingy pet. Conjuring it now was so easy she didn't even think about it. All day long she'd felt the twinges of a headache trying its hardest to come on but every time it got close, she could see the little twinges of green in her peripheral vision, accompanied by a coolness that settled over her, chasing the malaise away, leaving her feeling fine. Feeling 'fine' was all well and good but she was starting to find her constant state of fineness to be disturbing. Bodies were not static objects. They were sensitive to their environments: if you ate too much you got a stomachache, if you cut yourself then you bled, and if you drank too much you got hungover. The fact that Sadie hadn't had so much as a headache since waking up was more bizarre than all of the other jarring differences in her new world combined. It seemed that every time she started to come to terms with her powers and find some tiny measure of acceptance, some other setback cropped up, placing her firmly back at square one.

Lately, she'd gotten good at managing those feelings but she still felt like a stranger in her body. Not quite a wolf in sheep's clothing so much as an old woman wearing an elaborate disguise, masquerading as someone she couldn't quite accept. Sadie had endured typical struggles with her body in the past, from watching her figure to fit in her dresses to accepting the loss of her curves during the war and comparing herself to Howard's string of hourglass-shaped girlfriends, but she'd always managed to find ways to be at peace with herself. Huffing out a sigh, she dropped her arm, hand falling over her stomach and she winced. She could rationalize all the wanted, but she wasn't sure she would ever find peace with her collection of scars, her empty womb, and this general feeling of 'fine.'

She eased her high heels off and stretched her legs out, before tucking them beneath her, shifting so she could face Bucky. They were close. If she wanted she could easily lean over and fall against his shoulder. For a second she considered following through but Bucky appeared content to toy with her hair, waiting for her to say more. There just wasn't much left to say: if she went on much longer she would just be complaining and Sadie saw little point in that. Finally, she let her lips quirk into a playful little smile.

"I will never understand why Steve willingly did this to himself."

Bucky's breathless half-laugh caused her stomach to twist a bit, sending a pleasant feeling coursing through her.

"It was different for him," he answered after a lengthy pause. He twisted her hair between his fingers, allowing the thick strands to slip out of his grip so he could chase them back down. "He spent his entire life trying to prove he was just as good as every other guy out there. When the war broke out that just got worse. We went to enlist together. The way the doctor looked at him was like he was surprised Steve hadn't keeled over years ago. After he got that first 4F it was like he thought the entire world was judging him for not going. Honestly, I think he would have done anything to go."

Sadie frowned. Painted in that light, the decision made much more sense. All the way in Little Rock, the fervor to join up and go to war had been just as strong. During the bleak days between Pearl Harbor and when Sadie departed for Europe, she'd been privy to all kinds of rumors. Music at local dances was drowned out by hasty whispers of who'd enlisted and who got their notices. When she was at basic, her mother often included tidbits of gossip in her letters, including notable names of boys who were on their way to war and even the terrible rumors of a couple of boys who'd killed themselves because they couldn't go. Back then getting a 4F wasn't seen as a gift, it was seen as a declaration of weakness, of a fundamental inability to do one's patriotic duty.

"When you put it like that..."

The serious expression furrowing Bucky's brow eased. "Don't get me wrong, I still think he's an idiot for doing it."

Her laughter filled the warm, comfortable space between them. Bucky continued to toy with her hair and Sadie didn't miss the light, purposeful brushes of his fingertips on her neck. The little touches set her on the edge of shivers, while also encouraging her to further relax into the sofa.

"The committee also asked me if I knew where you two were."

"Of course they did," Bucky said on the heels of a sigh.

"Before you say something along the lines of 'I don't want you doing that,' let me remind you that I want to do this. And besides? At this point, what are the alternatives?"

It was either Sadie tell the truth and give them up or she walk away entirely so she could truthfully claim she didn't know their whereabouts. Neither option was appealing or particularly realistic. Bucky's fingers were still on her neck as he mulled over the alternatives. All he had to do was barely press against the back of her neck, a silent prompt for Sadie to come closer. It was all so natural, a series of motions they'd done a hundred times before and Sadie moved closer and pressed herself into his side where he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, holding her in place.

"Well, when you put it like that," he murmured into the top of her head. Sadie closed her eyes and turned to press her cheek against his shoulder, smiling when she felt him kiss the top of her head. "Still doesn't mean I like you putting your neck on the line for me."

Sadie loved the way he stiffened when she placed her hand on his chest, only to melt into her touch as she tapped two fingers against his chest in time with his heart.

"You would do the same for me," she said softly.

Bucky hugged her a little tighter. "I'd move a goddamn mountain for you, Sade. Wouldn't even think twice about it."

X X X

Bucky adjusted his cufflinks. The dull silver rectangles were set with black stones and, according to Ayo, at least, went nicely with the rest of his ensemble. The fact that she'd been trying not to laugh while he tried to do his bowtie undercut her point. Dressing up like a penguin and going undercover at the Kennedy Center hadn't been his idea and when he pointed that out to Ayo, she kindly reminded him that he'd signed up for Wakanda's intelligence agency. Unable to refute that point, he'd been helpless to watch as Shuri hacked her way through various lists of names–staffers working the event and the guest list until she isolated a single-ticket holder unable to attend the performance that evening. Assured that Patrick Masters, an art dealer from New York City, was trapped in the city handling the details of his messy divorce, Shuri got to work. The end result saw Patrick erased entirely from the guest list, replaced by the persona that Bucky would inhabit.

Tonight, he wasn't Bucky Barnes. He was Artyom Volkov, a Russian expat and freelance artist who knew Patrick Masters from their days living in Paris. Patrick had been gracious enough to transfer his ticket to Bucky, allowing him the opportunity to enjoy a night of live music, though his thick accent and broken Russian would provide a tough language barrier for anyone who wanted to make small talk. A nanotech mask covered Bucky's long hair and face, transforming him into a square-jawed man with salt-and-pepper hair, slightly weathered skin and a nose that had been broken one too many times. Bucky had to avoid the mirror because the sight of him wearing someone else's skin made him wildly uncomfortable.

But the disguise worked like a charm and, thanks to his upgraded vibranium arm, he sailed through event security without setting off a single metal detector or raising any eyebrows. In order to keep up appearances, he ordered a glass of scotch while he set to work on his actual objective. The Dora Milaje was in charge of protecting T'Challa and Shuri, while Steve, Sam, and Nat were tasked with keeping an eye on the event at large. But Bucky's sole duty was to keep an eye on Sadie and, should anything happen, take her to a predetermined safe location until she could be evacuated.

To say she was unhappy with his daring to go out in public, even with an excellent disguise, was a massive understatement though she hid it well. She'd kept her face straight while she put him out of his misery and tied his bowtie, though her eyes flickered to his more than once. Her behavior was nothing new. During the war he remembered the way she always sat statue still in briefings, absorbing the increasingly dangerous details of their missions, forcing herself to turn a blind eye to the peril that Bucky always found himself in. When they were alone, she chose her words carefully, not wanting to burden him with her obvious worry. Sometimes he wished she wouldn't be so considerate. Perhaps things would have been different if she'd been a little more vocal about his safety but there was little point in considering that now. They were where they were and for now, he was grateful that Sadie knew when to bite her tongue lest she make an already stressful situation worse.

Sadie also hadn't been particularly pleased about being babysat, even from afar and even by Bucky. That didn't surprise him in the slightest; Sadie hated being handled and lately she'd been nothing but handled. He was acutely aware that the world was intent on reducing her worth to a few vials of blood and while it made her rightfully indignant, it also made her vulnerable. The unfortunate truth was that a price tag of indeterminate, but quite real, worth had been attached to Sadie and there were people out there determined to cash in. The least that Bucky could do was ensure that whoever tried to get to her would have to go through him first, and that wouldn't be such an easy feat.

For the moment, however, she was safe enough in the company of the event's VIPs, all guests of the President and sitting in the Presidential box. In fact, for the moment he felt his presence was entirely unnecessary. It was hard to imagine she'd be in any real danger with the President, T'Challa, Tony Stark, and Colonel Rhodes but Bucky knew that wasn't true. Baron Zemo managed to blow up half a UN building full to the brim with world leaders and diplomats, slipping between the gaps of some of the tightest security in the world. If Bucky knew one thing for certain it was that anything could happen.

The President's guests were all one floor above everyone else, on the balcony outside of the doors that led into the theater. He'd carefully moved through the crowd on the main floor in the foyer to find the best angle to surreptitiously watch Sadie's movements and also keep an eye for any suspicious movement within the crowd. He couldn't wear an earpiece in the theater on the off chance someone saw it and so he was flying blind without any sort of check-ins from Steve and the others.

So far, so good, he thought to himself, taking a sip of his scotch and smiling politely at a couple of guests who moved close by forcing him to tuck his left elbow in tight so they didn't touch him. He kept his left hand firmly in his pocket, doing everything he could to minimize his body. Though chances were even if someone brushed past him and felt his metal arm they wouldn't put two-and-two together, he didn't want to take the chance.

Sadie's dark head appeared as she followed Tony to meet another couple of presidential guests. Even from a distance he could see her beautiful smile and he forcibly ignored little pangs of longing in his stomach. Of course she didn't help matters in the slightest when she turned away from the foyer, showing off the v-shaped back of her dress that dipped down to her mid spine. The vivid green gown clung to her body, showing off her subtle hourglass shape and moving with her every step like she'd been born to wear it. When she sipped her champagne he found himself wishing he was the crystal pressed into her full lower lip.

She moved through the crowd with unpracticed ease. In preparation for the trip she'd memorized so many different biographies of Congressmen and women, of diplomats, ambassadors, lobbyists and any other political figure under the sun. All that hard work appeared to pay off as she laughed with these strangers, each one affable by one turn and treacherous at another. One night, over the remnants of dinner, while he quizzed her on the various people she was supposed to meet, he'd remarked that she was basically a lamb wandering into a viper pit. Her snort of laughter surprised him.

"It's sweet that you think I'm so pure, Bucky, but I'm hardly a lamb. Besides, none of these people can be any worse than my mother's friends, talk about a bunch of harpies. You couldn't take two steps at one of their soirees without hearing some criticism about your dress or having to artfully talk your way out of being set up with their sons. Trust me," he'd smiled at the way she dropped her chin in her hand, eyes twinkling with a playful, mischievous light. "If I can handle southern psychological warfare I can handle a bunch of politicians."

At the time he'd slightly doubted her confidence but he was glad to be proven wrong. He was so used to her being frank and entirely herself with him that Bucky forgot that, if she really, really wanted to, she could charm the pants right off a priest. Back then he'd been suave and confident, able to strike up a friendly conversation with just about anyone but Sadie knew how to work a room, how to recall minute details to make her acquaintances feel like she'd known them forever. And now she was dazzling some of the country's most important people, so far away from Bucky that they may as well have been on different planets.

He scanned the crowd, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach.

Earlier that day she'd been so happy to cozy up into his side, tapping her fingers with his heartbeat like not a day had passed between now and then. For a few weeks now they'd been flirting with the hazy line between friends and more, each one of them more than happy to smear the line into obscurity. There was no denying their mutual attraction, sexual tension practically crackled whenever they shared a room but neither of them seemed to know how to make the first move. For Sadie's part Bucky imagined she was still hesitant, worried that he might snap back to his bad temper, and he didn't blame her for being wary: he'd given her plenty of reasons to leave her guard up. On his end he'd hesitated for different reasons, the chief of which was being afraid of exposing her to further danger but also because what life could he realistically give her?

Sadie moved to the balcony where she stood with Nakia, the pair chatting as they sipped their champagne. They spoke and laughed with one another and Sadie casually scanned the crowd until her eyes fell on him, the corners of her mouth rising in the tiniest smile of acknowledgement. Bucky sipped his drink, to keep from doing anything that might tip him off. In another world, in another time, he would be at her side, hand possessive on her lower back and voice low and teasing in her ear. There wasn't anything he wouldn't give to be able to walk out in the open next to her and not for the first time, he questioned whether further blurring the line between friends and more was doing a massive disservice to Sadie.

But then he heard her voice in the back of his head and her gentle reminder that her decisions weren't his to make. If she truly wanted him, there wasn't anything he could do to dissuade her and for the most part, he didn't want to. He loved her too goddamned much to keep her away.

Overhead the lights flashed. He took his time climbing the stairs to the upper balcony, where his second row seat overlooked the entire theater. The stage was set for the symphony, semi-circular rows of chairs and music stands all angled towards the conductor's podium. The music didn't really matter much to Bucky and he absently flipped through his program to give his idle hands something to do while he scanned the crowd, moving and shifting as patrons passed him to get to their seats. Somewhere beneath him, Sadie was taking her seat in the presidential box. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been in any kind of theater, probably the last time he'd gone to see a movie in London. Back then Sadie would move in close, either lacing their fingers together to rest on his leg or bring his arm around her though she never let him kiss her too much in the darkness much to his good-humored chagrin.

The performance was lost on Bucky. Somewhere in the recesses of his brain he registered that the symphony could play like nobody's business but that wasn't the point of his evening. Every time someone in the crowd moved he perked up, watching a handful of ushers prowl the area below, a few people leaving their seats in his section but nothing suspicious or out of the ordinary.

He tried his hardest not to mangle the program in his hands. Regardless of everything going seemingly smooth, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end to accompany the anxious feeling that prickled down his spine, little pinpricks that set his teeth on edge. That sense of foreboding only grew the longer the performance dragged on. For once, he actually wished he had Steve, Sam and Natasha in his ear just so he knew what was going on.

Almost as soon as intermission hit, Bucky was out of his seat. The house lights were still coming up but he hurried out of the theater. The large balcony was empty and quiet for only a second or two but the tiny stretch of time felt like an eternity, the calm before a storm. He paused at the railing and looked over the edge, down to the red-carpeted foyer. He identified a handful of staff members at the doors and lingering in the middle of the foyer. Sweeping his eyes across the entrance, he frowned. There was nobody at the metal detectors, prepared to oversee guests returning from stepping outside to smoke.

The bitter tang of adrenaline hit his tongue and before he really registered what he was doing, he was walking toward the stairs, just fast enough to appear eager to find either the bathroom or the bar. But Bucky wasn't headed for either. No matter what he had to do to reach her, Bucky had to get to Sadie and fast.

The crowd was thick around him, forcing him to slow down as he struggled to cut through couples, groups stretching across whole sections, gabbing while they descended. Bucky tucked his left arm close to his body and did his best to weave through the masses but everything was happening too slow and the seconds ticked by, each one a hammer stroke on his heart that echoed painfully through his chest. He reached the landing and did his best to move clear of more patrons only to get caught in another knot of people.

Bucky was on the verge of forcing a particularly slow couple out of his way when the sound of shattering glass drew everything to a grinding halt. The crowd moved like a wave, recoiling from the sound and ducking as though the shards were raining down on them. A woman next to him lost her balance and he barely caught her and pushed her upright, forcing his way to the railing. The enormous windows and glass doors of the main entrance were gone, replaced by a sea of shattered glass that spread across the red carpet in the foyer. Bucky couldn't immediately identify the explosives used but he didn't have time to worry about that. A small horde of heavily-armed fighters came crashing into the foyer with another group rappelling down from the roof, slinging themselves into the foyer armed to the teeth with assault rifles and–

"Get down!" He shouted.

A few mercenaries lobbed a handful of small objects far into the panicking crowd and they each went off with a tiny bang, releasing thick clouds of smoke. Where the crowd was initially frozen with shock, full-blown panic descended over the crowd. A mad stampede split the patrons apart. Some people turned on heel and struggled to get up the stairs, like salmon struggling to swim upstream to reach the safety of the theater. The rest made a mad rush down the stairs. Bucky grasped the arm of a man and hauled him back to his feet, flattening him against a column before he got trampled in the mess.

Screams mingled with the sounds of rapid gunfire. Bucky couldn't see through the smoke to tell whether the mercs were firing into the crowd or at the bevy of secret service agents that were certainly now descending on the madness. In the midst of the chaos, Bucky didn't worry as much about anyone hitting his arm and he used that to his advantage, moving through the tangle of limbs and avoiding stepping on any dresses and toes as he swung around to the landing that would take him to the VIP section where he would surely find Sadie. Two flashes of bright red cut through the smoke, followed by the silver glint of spears. The Dora Milaje were there. Good. He trusted them far more than he trusted the Secret Service.

A black blur crashed into him. Planing his feet he forced his weight into his left shoulder and sent the merc flying backwards. More red caught the corner of his eye and he ducked just in time to avoid the electric charge Ayo shot from her spear. The merc convulsed on the ground but he was already forgotten. Ayo grasped his elbow.

"Where's–"

"That way!" She pointed further down the balcony.

Bucky didn't waste another breath. He barrelled through the madness only to fall backwards when another black shape hurtled out of the smoke. Thick black tactical armor covered the figure's body and a white 'x' was smeared across his chest plate. Bucky's eyes widened, taking in the menacing facemask. Steve was right; he had seen Brock Rumlow in Vienna that day. Bucky bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood to keep his mind in the moment, to stop from falling face-first into a swamp of unpleasant memories surrounding this radioactive cockroach of a bastard who just wouldn't fucking die. Just beyond Rumlow, Crossbones–whatever he went by these days–Bucky caught the flash of green light and then he saw her, Sadie on her knees using a man's jacket to compress a wound and wielding her powers to address a head wound. His breath caught in his chest but he also fought the urge to roll his eyes. Of course she was doing the brave thing and treating wounded people in the middle of a fight instead of the sensible thing and running for her life.

She and Steve were practically the same person, why would he have expected anything less?

It all happened in the span of two seconds, from Bucky falling back to recognizing Rumlow, to seeing Sadie to sucking a tight breath, rolling away just before Rumlow punched one of his reinforced fists into the floor, tearing the carpet and chunks of concrete beneath. He was on his knees and without thinking, raised his left arm to deflect the next blow, so strong it reverberated through him. The instant resistance ground Rumlow to a halt and, through the holes in his mask, Bucky could just make out his eyes lighting with recognition.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Aware he was dealing with an enhanced, Rumlow stopped taking it easy and Bucky was on the defense. It was one thing to plow through an entire band of mercenaries, but getting past Rumlow and his enhanced suit was a different beast altogether. For one thing, Rumlow was one of the world's most elite fighters and for another, his stupid suit made him a lot stronger. Still, there was no such thing as 'rusty' for Bucky and he fell into the familiar fight pattern, just like riding a bike. Within seconds, the tides were shifting and Rumlow was on the defensive, but every step that Bucky gained was a step closer to Sadie, who was helping someone else drag a man out of the line of fire.

She dashed across the balcony, towards the railing to reach someone else. Bucky made a monumental mistake and Rumlow caught the split-second flicker of his eyes from the fight to Sadie. It wasn't hard to put two-and-two together. Bucky barely avoided Rumlow kicking out hard, just barely catching his side before he spun away, raised his left arm and fired a tiny missile from the compartment in the top.

The agonized yell barely worked its way out of Bucky's throat. He acted blindly, grasping Rumlow with his left hand and throwing him as hard as he could, flinging him off to the side with all of his strength. Rumlow rolled a few feet away, only to be intercepted by T'Challa who leapt over two Dora Milaje soldiers to engage him. But Bucky didn't look back to watch. He sprinted as fast as he could towards the balcony as it splintered and there, struggling to keep her balance in a floor-length gown and high heels, Sadie reached out to catch onto anything before she plummeted to the foyer below.

X X X

The floor gave beneath Sadie's feet before she really registered what happened. One second, she was checking a middle-aged woman's pulse and helping her up so she could run away. The next, she was scrambling across the crumbling balcony, trying to gain any purchase and lurch forward before it was too late. Without solid footing, her high heels wobbled and her ankles collapsed, causing her to slip just as the section gave. An involuntary shriek tore from her lungs, arms stretched up in desperation to catch anything even as her body started to twist around in the air. Screwing her eyes shut tight, she braced herself for the impact but it never came.

Something rock hard locked around her wrist, jerking her up so hard her shoulder nearly came out of its socket. The grip on her wrist tightened and she cried out in pain even as she was lifted up and then over the ledge of the still-remaining balcony. The sharp edges caught the bottom hem of her dress, tearing the expensive fabric, but that hardly mattered now. What was a torn dress compared to potentially falling to her death? Would she even die if she had fallen?

Sadie didn't have time to contemplate her mortality or lack thereof. Her savior still held onto her and pulled her to her feet.

"I'm getting you out of here."

Her head snapped up upon recognizing Bucky's voice. At once she recognized why his grip was so painful and unyielding. He'd caught her with his metal hand. Hearing his voice come out of the strange, blonde, middle-aged man still holding her sent a chill down her spine. Rationally, Sadie knew this was Bucky; she'd seen him don the nanocover that evening before his departure for the Kennedy Center and she'd spied him more than once in the crowd but that didn't make hearing his voice any less unsettling when she couldn't see his real face.

Without waiting for her to say a word or try to argue, they were moving. He gently tugged her slightly ahead of him, wrapping his arm around her waist. Sadie tried to get a glimpse behind them. Through the lingering smoke she saw T'Challa and two members of the Dora Milaje taking on the masked man who shot away the balcony and below she could still hear the screams mixed in with the gunfire.

"There are injured people down there!" She tried to fight.

Bucky didn't even give her the chance to dig in her heels. When she showed the tiniest hint of resistance, he wrapped his arm around her even tighter, lifting her up and forcing her to continue forward.

"That's not the plan."

Right. The plan.

Sadie detested the idea that she needed babysitting or a bodyguard. Even more than that, she hated being handled, forced to follow security protocols that took her away from where she should be: helping the injured civilians and using her godforsaken powers to the best of her ability. But allowing her the chance to actually be useful wasn't the plan. The plan was to evacuate her to safety should anything happen. To that end, Bucky had memorized the blueprints of the Kennedy Center, formulating Plans A through Z to cover just about any disaster imaginable. That included dragging her down to the bowels of the building where they could ride out the remainder of the fight until he got the all clear it was okay to remove her to the embassy.

In her humble opinion, everyone was taking her safety just a little too seriously but she'd lost that argument to a unanimous group which included T'Challa, Steve, Bucky, Shuri, and Nakia. The second that Steve and Bucky discovered she was wanted for parts ratcheted the plans for her safety to an eleven, leaving her with little choice but to give in to Bucky and allow him to whisk her away. He used the smoke for cover, quite literally hitting anyone that got in their way until they burst through a door into a silent, empty hallway. If Sadie thought he would pause to let her catch her breath, she was sorely mistaken. Without the columns and the crowd and the smoke to give them cover, he was even more on edge and eager to remove her from sight.

Sadie struggled to keep up, stumbling more than once in her high heels. Her skirt kept getting tangled between her legs, eventually forcing her to pause long enough to lift it away from her feet. Bucky didn't say a word but she could feel the tension coming off him, crackling lightning to match the dark, thunderous expression on his alter ego's face. She didn't want to know what he was thinking. He tugged her into a stairwell that led down into the basement, through another set of doors, down one more short hallway and then he yanked open a door and ushered her into a storage room containing stacks of hundreds of chairs, bistro tables, and folding tables neatly lined up against one wall. He only released her once she was fully inside the room and he turned away long enough to shut and lock the door.

The rush of the previous ten minutes poured out of her when she exhaled and the cold reality set in. Rubbing her hands along her upper arms she retreated away from Bucky, towards one of the open spaces in the room, next to the stacks of chairs. This deep in the building she couldn't hear the fighting and could only hope that it would all be over soon. Chills coursed through her and though she couldn't feel the pain from Bucky grabbing her and pulling her to safety, her wrist still tingled from his touch.

She'd almost fallen to either her death or an incredibly painful recovery but the impact wasn't the worst part. No, it had been the way the ground shifted and completely gave from beneath her. The sensation of losing her balance, of being unable to gain any purchase on the floor was somehow even more terrifying than the fall itself. Sadie drew her arms tighter around herself and pressed her back against the wall, dropping her head back and releasing a soft, shuddering sigh.

For just a moment she'd been so wrapped up in her own mind she'd forgotten about Bucky entirely but that changed the second he turned back from locking the door. In just a few long strides he closed the distance between them and Sadie sucked in a tight breath of surprise. He tore the nanocover from his face, shedding his disguise to reveal the man she knew, the man she loved.

Bucky tossed the cover onto the chair next to her and she almost forgot to exhale when he came upon her, planting one hand on either side of her head. Stretching his arms out he leaned slightly forward, dropping his head. Though he wasn't touching her at all, he'd managed to pin her in place, caged where he knew she was safe. His shoulders shuddered with every tremulous breath he took, rising and falling in a rapid clip that caused Sadie's own heart to beat a little harder. Strips of long hair escaped the small bun at the back of his neck, obscuring his face but Sadie didn't need to see it. She didn't need to see his cheeks hollow out with every exhale or the lines form on his forehead and between his brows as he fought to control his torrid emotions.

Sadie didn't even want to blink. The air between them was so charged she was amazed that it wasn't strong enough to produce static electricity, standing the fine hairs on her arms on end to accompany the goosebumps there. They were so close she could feel the heat pouring off him, smell the smoke coming off his clothes, and see the flecks of dust and debris caught on the shoulders of his jacket. A thousand words of comfort sprang to the tip of her tongue, but only one managed to come out.

"Bucky," she whispered, hoping that just by hearing her voice he might regain his faculties.

Something light and funny trickled onto her shoulder. Tearing her eyes off Bucky, she glanced to the right and started. There was concrete dust falling lightly onto her shoulder, catching on her green dress and also moving to make a tiny pile on the floor right next to her. She followed the path of the falling dust in reverse, raising her chin to see Bucky's metal fingers pressed so hard into the concrete that he was grinding it to dust.

She didn't know why, but the sight made her stomach flop over in the most oddly pleasant way.

"I'm alright," she said. "You were right in time."

Bucky pushed his metal fingers into the wall even harder and she squeaked in surprise when a tiny chunk of concrete plinked off her shoulder.

"I thought–" his throat closed up and choked off the rest of his sentence, but he didn't need to finish it.

Saving her in the nick of time meant he very nearly hadn't. He'd been on the precipice of failure, of being forced to endure the agony of watching her fall and feel the heart-rending, stomach-churning misery of losing her. Sadie knew that feeling far too well; she'd become intimately acquainted with it when he'd plummeted to his death some seven decades before. The similarities weren't lost on her.

Every muscle in his body contracted when she raised her slightly trembling hands, ghosting over his shoulders until she found the curve of his neck, sliding over the hard angle of his jaw to frame his face. Though he still shuddered, he didn't fight her when she raised his head, drawing his face up so she could look at him. Tears swimming in his blue eyes made the color all the more vivid and he was a shade off color, as if the thought made him viscerally ill.

"I'm okay," she repeated, drawing a tender thumb across his cheek. His frown started to deepen and she didn't necessarily blame him. One of her worst flaws was lying about her own wellbeing, preferring to bury her struggles than expose them. "Truly." She stared directly into his eyes, imploring him to believe her. Bucky relented with a tiny nod. "Now tell me what you need."

He blinked at her, like he'd never even once considered his own needs.

"I–I need–"

The answer was plain as day on his face. Sadie read the longing in his gaze as it caressed her face, roving across the slight hollows in her cheeks, her wide eyes and down to her full mouth. Her breath hitched in her chest and he followed the movement. The deep inhale she took pulled him closer to her and her knees wobbled slightly when she felt his chest just barely brush past hers. Just this whisper of the contact she so desperately craved threatened to undo her. Helpless to the magnetic pull, she looked to Bucky once more and when he turned slightly towards one of her hands cupping his cheeks she knew for certain. He didn't need placations or time or space.

He needed her and that was all there was to it.

Sadie rose up to the tips of her toes and then brought his face down to hers, kissing him full on the mouth. She relished the split-second of his shock, hearing the sharp inhale he took through his nose, forcing his powerful chest against hers. A loud snap startled them apart and she clapped a hand to muffle her shout when he wrenched back, pulling a large chunk of concrete right out of the wall. He might have looked funny, holding onto a baseball sized piece of concrete were she not so stunned that he'd done it with so little effort, the wall may as well have been made of butter. A furious blush stained his cheeks at being caught losing his composure, brought on by a single, simple kiss. Mortified, Bucky tossed the handful away and it landed on the floor a few feet away, splitting in two. Sadie volleyed between the concrete and Bucky, wrestling with her own composure. Heat welled up in her chest and little by little trickled down to her stomach, seeping through her body to settle low, building in intensity as she considered the raw strength it took to do something like that and, God help her, what else could he do with that kind of power? Bucky raked his right hand through his hair, popping the hair band free and took one half step back, chest heaving. For a horrible, sinking beat of her racing heart, Sadie thought she'd made a terrible mistake.

And then her back hit the wall, pressed flat between it and Bucky's body as he surged forward, claiming her mouth with his. The dam holding back his passion exploded and the flood slammed into her with almost overpowering force, wrought by his fierce kiss, fiery and all-consuming. Hesitancy long gone, he swept his tongue into her mouth to meet hers. He tasted of bitter adrenaline and scotch and his coarse beard scratched her skin but she didn't care. Lord above, how could she care about anything when he cradled the back of her neck, caging her in place while he kissed her the way she'd dreamed about a thousand times in the years after his death?

Bucky's left hand slammed back against the wall, letting loose a series of spider cracks in the concrete when she wound her arms right around his neck, pulling him close and nearly bringing him off balance. His response, his firm body, his passionate kiss was everything she'd ever dreamt of during those lonely nights, arm stretched out towards his empty side of the bed. Far from believing he was no longer in love with her, from trying to find her new place in his life, Sadie melted into him and into this precious, miraculous moment she thought she would never, ever have again.

A cross between a whimper and a moan escaped her between heady kisses, meeting his fervor in equal measure, all lips, tongue and teeth. His possessive growl was a white-hot lance that went straight through her, building the longing that ached low between her thighs when she dragged her teeth across his lower lip. Working her hands inside his jacket, she bunched his shirt up at his sides to pull him tighter to her, determined to eliminate even an atom's worth of space between their bodies.

"Fucking Christ, Sade," he muttered into the scant gap between their mouths when they parted for air.

But Sadie didn't want to talk. She didn't want to do or say anything that would shatter the moment and Bucky gamely followed her back under, making a little noise of delight when she knotted her fingers in his hair and brought him back to her, giving the long strands a sharp tug. He dragged his palms down her shoulders, one hard and cool, the other firm and burning, creating a wild difference in temperature that sent shivers rippling down her spine. From her elbows he dropped to her waist, squeezing it in before pushing up, higher and higher, feeling out each rib and cresting over her breasts, teasing out her nipples through the fabric.

"Bucky–oh–oh–" she gasped and he took advantage of her distracted state to leave her mouth, bowing his head to leave a trail of hot kisses down her cheek, over her jaw and down her neck. She clung to him, grasping his shoulders, flesh and metal alike beneath his jacket, whole body on the verge of writhing when he found the pulse point on her neck and gave it a hard suck. His right hand fell to her hip, gently tracing around to her lower back and dipping his hand low, squeezing her ass and forcing her hips against his, where he was hard and wanting.

Both of them gasped in surprise when she pulled back. A flush covered her entire body, intensifying as she surveyed Bucky, hair a mess and shoulders straining against his now thoroughly wrinkled dress shirt.

"Are you okay?" Concern flashed across his face.

"What?" She asked rather stupidly and then realized what she'd done, how abruptly she ended things. He relaxed when she returned to him, drawing her arms about his body and rising to the tips of her toes, stealing a long, languid kiss that coursed through her veins, carrying with it a lazy, delicious warmth. Bucky drank from her with equal muted zeal, allowing his forehead to fall against hers when they parted. "I'm right as rain, buck sergeant? This is just–" she closed her eyes for a moment, fumbling to find the right words. "Even better than I remembered."

Her knees buckled in the face of his breathless little laugh. The smile that lingered was a page ripped right out of 1944, wolfish and knowing; it was the kind of smile he'd give her right before sneaking a hand beneath her skirt to playfully snap a strap on her garter.

"I know the feeling," he promised her and she wanted to melt into the floor and die just hearing the teasing, loving tone of his voice. He traded a handful of soft kisses with her before pressing feather-light kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her closed eyelids, the tip of her nose and her mouth once more. "I thought about this a lot when I was on my own."

Sadie didn't miss the insinuation and she pressed her face into his shoulder to muffle her surprised laughter. Bucky held her close, wrapping her in the safety of his arms. Even with his strangely altered physique and his metal arm, they fit together perfectly. It wasn't just that kissing Bucky and being in his arms was better than she remembered, it was more than she could have ever hoped for. Ever since their reunion she'd feared Bucky would never quite be himself again, or even find shades of his old self beneath the decades of damage. Yet here he was, holding her fast, filling her to the brim with the sound of his throaty laugh and kissing her temple with soft lips. The man holding her now was more than a ghost of his old self, he was familiar and wholly himself. Bucky coaxed her back up, teasing another deep kiss from her that stole the air from her lungs and left her a weak-kneed mess in his arms. When he held her like this, the lost feeling that trailed her every step dissipated because she was home. How could she feel anything other than at home in Bucky's arms?

They were almost inextricably intertwined with each other when a sharp series of knocks on the door shattered the moment as though they'd been doused with ice water. Sadie wasn't sure which of them was more disappointed to separate. Bucky frowned and drew her behind him. He hesitated at the door handle, waiting for more knocking. His lips moved as he counted the knocks and only after he was satisfied did he dare unlock the door, opening it just wide enough to identify the newcomer before he swung it open. Ayo and Bishara were on the other side.

Sadie's cheeks flushed deep crimson when Bishara spied the jacket on the floor, Bucky's mussed hair, the chunk missing from the wall, and Sadie's deer-in-the-headlights expression. The warrior's eyebrow quirked a little bit and the corner of her mouth twitched but she wisely said nothing.

"The fight over?" Bucky asked.

"Yes." Ayo jerked her chin towards Sadie. "There's been a complication. We need Ms. Reid."

X X X

Neither Ayo nor Bishara bothered to tell Sadie what was going on. They simply took her from Bucky's custody, waiting long enough for him to don his disguise and prepare him with a hasty backstory as to where he disappeared to during the fight for when he was inevitably detained and questioned by the authorities before he would be permitted to leave the premises. Though she knew she was being foolish and irrational–Bucky was more than capable of handling his affairs and deceiving a couple of FBI agents–she still loathed the thought of leaving him behind to fend for himself. Even more irrationally, she felt oddly exposed without him next to her, despite being in the company of two of the most well-trained soldiers in the history of the world.

There was no point in arguing, however. Bucky had his duties to fulfill. So did Ayo and Bishara. And so did she for that matter. Though what those duties were, Sadie wasn't quite sure as neither woman seemed interested in telling her as they led her away from Bucky, away from safety and away from the tiny sanctuary she'd made in his arms, carved out from a storage room of all places. The corners of her mouth twitched. It wouldn't be the first time they'd wound up intertwined in a storage room, nor the second or even third if she was being completely honest. Those pleasant memories, once kept locked away in a distant, desolate corner of her heart, were at the forefront of her mind, now becoming intermingled with the fresh memory of Bucky, of his mouth thoroughly debauching hers and his hands liberal on her body.

"You might want to rearrange your expression."

Bishara's warning was so quiet Sadie was positive not even Ayo heard her a few paces ahead, but it did the trick.

"Sorry," she whispered.

To her immense surprise, Bishara offered a fleeting little smirk. "Took you long enough."

Only the gravity of the situation prevented Sadie from stopping in her tracks just so she could argue. Though, if she was being really, truly, brutally honest with herself, Bishara was right on both counts. She couldn't return to the scene of destruction smiling like the cat who caught the canary. There were most certainly casualties upstairs, perhaps even deaths and that was no smiling or laughing matter. As to Bishara's second charge? Well, Sadie supposed she couldn't really argue with that either, leaving her to wonder how long it would have taken either of them to finally make a move had a near-death experience not intervened.

Sadie's mind screeched to a halt and reversed to her previous observation. There had only ever been one reason she was useful when it came to warfare and these days, without the benefit of a nursing license, her usefulness was even more limited. Whatever the situation was upstairs, she guessed it had to be fairly desperate to warrant asking her to use her largely untested powers and the wounded person in question had to be important enough to take the risk.

"Who's wounded?"

Ayo's step barely hitched but she looked back to Sadie, cool in her appraisal. "A congressman. The paramedics do not believe he will make to the hospital."

She said no more than that, turning her hard gaze forward and leading them on. Sometimes, Sadie thought Ayo was even more intimidating than Okoye and that was saying a lot. On the other hand, Bishara was far more approachable and they fell into step together, almost shoulder-to-shoulder.

"What happened?"

"I'm not certain. The King simply told us to fetch you."

Nothing else needed to be said. She followed Ayo up the stairs, down the hallway and back into the grand foyer. If Sadie weren't intimately familiar with the destruction that battle could bring, she might have been sickened by the sight. Chaos stretched out everywhere she looked, from the shattered glass from the broken entrance, to the crumbled portions of balcony heaped on the floor. Bulletholes riddled the walls, tore up the red carpet and passed right through a few bodies on the floor, each one covered with a white sheet dotted with dark red spots. They picked their way through the debris, past teams of paramedics working on less critical patients. The glare of red and blue lights hurt her eyes at first but she eventually adjusted. They walked straight past the destroyed entrance to a spot near the staircase where a knot of people surrounded what she could see were a pair of legs splayed on the floor.

Okoye stood over the entire scene, spear clutched tight in her hand. Upon spying Ayo and Bishara, she crouched to gain the King's attention. T'Challa glanced up from where he knelt with the three paramedics, and a couple of patrons. He straightened up to meet them. She'd only seen his Black Panther suit in photographs and video, never in person. His mask was gone but the rest of the suit covered his body, lithe and strong. He looked exhausted and worried.

"Ms. Reid, thank you for coming."

He took her hand and helped her pick her way over a few large pieces of debris. The paramedics were doing their absolute best, muting to one another as they tossed aside blood-soaked gauze, working together with a familiar face. Doctor Greyson, the stranger from the night before, glanced up from over his patient to see her approach. Surprise filtered across his face before he found relief.

"Ms. Reid, thank God."

"I wouldn't sing my praises just yet. What happened?"

A patron shifted out of the way to make room for her and her eyebrows flew up in surprise. Representative Greene lay on the floor, his head propped in the lap of a middle-aged woman who cried as she stroked his face. Nobody had to answer her. At first, Sadie swore she didn't see his tuxedo but rather olive drab, and instead of the ruined concert hall she was in a ward tent, triaging patients to send to surgery or treatment or worse. Back then, Representative Greene was a goner. The amount of blood that pooled around him was teetering on the edge of fatal and the enormous bandages that were being used to protect the wound were clearly doing absolutely nothing to stymy the bleed. Sweat poured down his temples and blood tinged his lips and stained the spaces between his teeth.

The shift from Sadie the civilian to Sadie the nurse happened seamlessly, like stepping into the shoes of an old friend. Sweeping her skirt out of her way, she knelt down, taking Representative Greene's wrist in her hand to count his pulse while she watched his eyes dance erratically beneath his closed eyelids. He was paler than he'd been that morning, blue veins standing out beneath his jaw.

"Pulse is thready," she muttered under her breath and started to peel back the bandage to get a look but stopped herself. "My hands are dirty."

"Here." One of the paramedics ripped open a square packet and handed her a small towel. Sadie rubbed it over the backs of her hands, her palms, in-between fingers and beneath her fingernails, spreading the cold disinfectant over her skin. As soon as it was dry she accepted a glove and tugged it on.

"He's not going to make it," the paramedic muttered while she prepped. "What the hell is she gonna do?"

"Ms. Reid has more experience with combat wounds than all of us combined," Doctor Greyson said and Sadie frowned. Was this what that was? A combat wound? Because from where she was sitting, Representative Greene was a civilian casualty of a terrorist attack and that was a whole different thing entirely.

She grasped the corner of the bandage and lifted.

"Damn," she murmured.

Representative Greene heaved in pain, his breath uneven and chest struggling with each rise and fall. She didn't need to peel the whole thing back. The glimpse she got of his shredded liver was enough. In another time she would have given him enough morphine to make him comfortable and moved on to the next. But that was then, without the benefit of modern medicine and, more importantly, without the benefit of her largely unwanted powers. "There's shrapnel in there but he'll bleed out before a surgeon could even try to remove it."

"Sadie." T'Challa's voice was soft in her ear. "I understand that it is a lot to ask."

Sadie frowned. It was a big ask. Not because she didn't want to heal Representative Greene, but because she wasn't sure she could actually do it. Healing a cut on Shuri's palm and the couple of superficial wounds earlier were one thing. Repairing a destroyed liver was another matter entirely.

"The King said you have–you have a gift?" Mrs. Greene said where she stroked her husband's forehead. "Please," she begged. "Please. We have two children at home. I can't–" her throat closed up.

Yes, it was a big ask, but somehow, some way, Sadie was going to have to come up with a big answer. It didn't matter if Representative Greene antagonized her only earlier that morning or if he'd been her best friend in the whole world. Sadie's job wasn't to discern who deserved treatment and who didn't. Mrs. Greene didn't even need to ask her, but, due to her husband's unconscious state, she did need to give consent.

"I can't promise anything, Mrs. Greene. But I will certainly try, if you're agreeing to let me."

"Yes, God, please. Any–anything to save Michael."

Sadie nodded once and then closed her eyes. She would need more than a little wisp of green light to do the job. Sinking deeper into her mind, she found green light coursing through her. Tapping into it, she opened her eyes once more and saw green. Every person around her lit up in thousands of shades, each one dotted with little bits of rust from tiny scrapes and cuts from the battle, little spots of what she thought might be chronic pain and the like. But nobody was as red as Michael Greene. The center of his wound was so dark it was almost black, his organs pulsing and the blood pumping out of him at an alarming rate.

"This might hurt," she said. "Everyone prepare to hold him steady."

The first thing she had to do was stop the bleeding. In assessing the damage, she struggled to sharpen her vision, to discern the veins and capillaries as she hunted for the big arteries. "Arteries are still intact," she murmured to nobody in particular. Searching through the abdominal cavity, she found the primary culprit of the heavy bleeding. "The liver's been lacerated in multiple places. There's shrapnel there. I think I can–"

Sadie's voice died as she drew all of her focus to the liver and the deep gashes there. Bringing her hands over Michael's body, ribbons of green light lifted off her fingers and sank straight through the compression bandages and wormed around and beneath the edges. It was the exact same principle as healing Shuri's hand, though certainly more complicated. Focusing on each laceration at a time, she encouraged the green light to mend the tears, watching the black and red damage heal. She turned her attention last to the piece of shrapnel lodged in the liver. Directing the light to the shrapnel, she gave it an experimental nudge and started in surprise when it moved and Michael lurched in pain.

"Okay, brace him. This is going to be unpleasant but it ought to work."

Unpleasant was the understatement of the century. The shrapnel was stubborn and moved slowly. Sadie forced it upwards by healing the tissue beneath it, creating little layers, each one pushing it higher and higher. As the final bit finally emerged, she peeled the bandage back and it shot from Michael's body and into her hand. Sadie tossed it to the side. Already Michael was breathing easier and his heart rate increased a tiny tic. With the most life-threatening part out of the way, Sadie turned her attention to the rest of smaller flecks of shrapnel embedded in the liver's surface and the surrounding flesh. Each little piece of shrapnel shot into her hand to be discarded as she methodically mended his wounds until at last she was encouraging his torn skin back together.

Mrs. Greene's cry of surprise was sharp in Sadie's ears when she pulled the bandage away to show the seam of skin closing up, the bloody, angry line slowly receding until nothing but unblemished skin remained. Michael's chest rose in a sharp breath and Sadie could no longer see any red anywhere in and on his body, though his blood flow was sluggish to say the least.

"He needs a transfusion," she gasped as she fell backwards and out of her trance. A firm body caught her, T'Challa moving to cradle her against him. Her heartbeat pounded against her eardrums, casting the deafening sound throughout her head. Bled dry of her powers, a furious headache bloomed to life between her temples, wrapping around her eyesockets and hammering so hard she wanted to roll over and throw up. The green receded from the edges of her vision and the colors around her started to blur together, muting into the blackness that was coming for her. Sadie shivered, blinking into the darkness above her, the room spinning rapidly out of focus.

"I'll be goddamned," Doctor Greyson muttered–or at least she thought that was his distinct accent. She couldn't really tell the floor from the ceiling, much less identify speakers she couldn't even see.

"Ms. Reid!"

The room slipped away from her and she heard and saw no more.

A/N: See? I can write happy things!

Liked it? Loved it? Think Ayo and Bishara should have waited like…at least another ten minutes? I'd love to know any and all thoughts! Much love – Kappa.