"Better be careful; I could get used to this," Harper warned with a teasing smile.

James gave her a wide smile and said, "I think maybe you should. Well, not to me cooking. This is all I can do. But having dinner together is something maybe we should get more accustomed to."

It had been a month since the Flag Smashers. Since then, James had helped Sam here and there on more typical assignments, which he seemed to enjoy. A contract was in the works to make things a bit more official since Dr. Raynor had signed off on him essentially not being a danger to society.

Harper placed another piece of chicken parmesan in her mouth, enjoying the savory flavors that washed over her tongue. She found it exceptionally sweet that she came home to a scratch-made meal from her man out of time. It was a Friday, so he had come up to visit for the weekend as had become the norm.

"Oh?" she asked raising a brow in question. He hummed his confirmation, chewing a mouthful of spaghetti slowly. Trying to temper her hope, she pressed, "And how would we become more accustomed to such a ritual?"

"Well… I don't want to overstep, but since New York wasn't the key to progress… What if I spent more time in Boston?"

Harper beamed at the former soldier and said, "I would love it if you were in Boston more. What are you thinking? Half-time? Full-time? Three-quarters?"

"Well… could we talk logistics for a minute?" Harper nodded, plucking up a piece of garlic bread from the basket between them. James continued, "Ideally, I'd like to be here most of the time while still keeping the place in New York. It would be helpful for me to have a base of sorts there for when missions and things pop up. I wouldn't want to ever hunker down here while on an active assignment. And we could spend some weekends there maybe?"

She nodded and said, "That all makes sense to me."

He looked away nervously, a slight pucker to his lower lip. "The issue being that I can't carry two rents."

The brunette lifted a brow in confusion. "Why would you need to carry two rents?"

"Uhm…" he grumbled, searching for the words for whatever was troubling him.

She watched the hesitance twist his expression a bit further and she asked, "Wait, are we not talking about you moving here? Like with me?"

He flushed and answered sheepishly, "I didn't want to invite myself to move in."

"I wouldn't take it that way! This is an exciting thing!" Harper shook her head then met him with a grin. He looked relieved and distinctly pleased by her reaction. Eagerly, she continued, "So after we eat, can we actually talk finances and work out how to make this happen?"

The pink staining his cheeks darkened, but he nodded nonetheless. Dropping his gaze to his forkful of pasta, he said, "In the interest of honoring our recent agreement to communicate better, it's worth mentioning that talking money is a really uncomfortable prospect."

"How so?"

James tore a chunk of garlic bread off the piece he had claimed, placing it in his mouth to delay answering. Finally, he explained, "I've never talked money with a woman before. I never even thought it was something I'd do. When I grew up, men were always the head of the household, the breadwinners. When the Depression hit, women did go out into the workforce more, but that wasn't meant to be long-term like men's jobs. And a lot of women used their skills at home to decrease spending instead. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that when I dated before and when I used to think about relationships, it was always with the assumption that I would be the breadwinner and my wife would be at home, leaving the finances as my domain."

Harper hummed her understanding and found herself immediately unsure of how to respond. She wanted to be sensitive to his upbringing, but the implication made her bristle.

Thankfully, he seemed to pick up on her mood and added, "I know things are different now, and it's much better this way. I'm so happy for your success and proud of the work you do. You're amazing, Harper. I just mean that this is new and strange."

"Did wives not know how much their husbands made?" Harper asked curiously.

"Not always," he shook his head in the negative.

She chewed thoughtfully on another bite of chicken before asking, "If it turns out that I make more than you, how will you feel?"

"Oh, I can already tell you that you make more than me. Unless I decide to take on long or significantly high risk contracts, which I don't want to do." He turned away again, but not before she saw the guilt in his eyes. "Maybe I should take those because I'm more likely to survive than someone without the serum, but I don't want that to be my life again. I don't even want to take contracts forever."

"It makes me happy to hear you say that. For your wellbeing, but also because I don't want to live the rest of our life together fearing that you won't come back, or wondering if you're okay on a months long mission or something."

As a unit, they stood to begin cleaning up. Harper took care of the leftover food while James began doing the dishes. With her tasks finished, he suggested, "Why don't you change into something comfortable? We could talk in bed?"

She realized he had picked up on her fatigue, and appreciated that once again he was so well attuned to her. Harper tilted her chin up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, hun."

He turned to steal a quick kiss, smiling into the gesture. Once he had pulled away and returned to the dishes, Harper made her way to the bedroom and made quick work of swapping her work clothes for a loose fitting t-shirt and shorts. Sinking into the fluffy comforter, the dark haired woman let out a happy sigh.

It wasn't long before James came into the room. Her eyes roamed his form, appreciating that he had already donned a pair of dark grey sweatpants and a t-shirt that clung to his broad chest. He met her gaze and smirked mischievously.

Both of their attention was grabbed by a mewl at the soldier's feet. Harper frowned, her heart twisting at the sound. James gazed down at the large orange feline who was staring expectantly up at him from the foot of the pet stairs.

"What's up, buddy?" he asked. "Climb on up."

"He's meowing because he can't," Harper explained quietly. "Well, more that it's hard for him to. By the end of the day, he's tired and stiff. Could you pass him to me?"

Tears were already clouding her vision as James leaned down, scooped up the cat, and deposited him in her arms. Harper embraced the cat, burying her face in the poof of fur at his chest. She was relieved to hear him begin to purr at the affection.

The mattress shifted as James sat with her. "Harper, are you okay?"

"Yeah," she answered shakily. "He's still happy, eating, enjoying bird watching from the windows, so he still has quality of life. But I'm not stupid. I know he's old and has a health condition."

She could sense the tension that formed between them immediately, stemming from his uncertainty. What could he say? She had summarized reality quite well. Aslan was old and sick. There was nothing James could say to change that.

With effort, she straightened and shifted her hold on the fluffy mammal. Settling him in her lap and stroking his fur, Aslan settled in to sleep. Blinking the moisture from her eyes, she said, "Okay, let's figure this out. You remember my salary?"

He looked concerned for a moment longer before nodding. "I don't have an exact figure, because it'll depend on the specifics of the contracts I take and how many, but I could reasonably expect between…"

Bucky couldn't deny that he was nervous. After years with Harper and everything they had gone through together, he was finally going to meet her parents. And not just them, but her uncle and youngest sister, too. Jordan would also be in attendance at dinner. That he had met her once was of little comfort; rather, he already knew how much joy she derived from pushing people's buttons and was expecting some uncomfortable jokes at his expense.

He turned to look at Harper, who looked perfectly relaxed. Fall had settled into the northeast and he was happy for it. Her cold weather style was clearly still going to be his favorite. She wore dark wash high-waisted jeans which were tucked into knee-high black boots. Beneath her black fleece jacket she wore a forest green slouchy sweater. It was perhaps nothing special, but Bucky had immediately noticed and loved the way the soft material would slip down her shoulder. He also enjoyed the way it showed off the chain of his dog tag around her neck. He had kept Steve's, but had felt strongly about returning his to Harper.

The train lurched to a halt and Harper squeezed his hand to alert him that they'd reached their stop. They stood and Bucky followed her off the train, through the T station, and out above ground once more. His nerves mounted, knowing that now they were just a short bus ride and walk away from dinner with her family.

"Don't worry so much, hun," Harper spoke up, giving his hand another squeeze.

"I've never done the meet-the-parents thing," he grumbled. "And I'm not ignorant to the fact that I'm hardly the ideal partner for someone's daughter."

"Yes, how terrible it is to have a doting partner who loves me so unconditionally," the brunette drawled. "Or someone that is physically more than able to keep me safe. Or someone whose mere physical presence was enough that I just had a rare evening T ride without cat-calling or creepy stares."

"What?" he asked, immediately distracted.

"As it gets later in the day, you start getting some creeps and intoxicated college kids. Most women get some unsavory looks at minimum," she explained. Shrugging, she added, "Just part of life. Have to be cautious, but you do also get used to it."

"Well, now I want to travel everywhere with you," the former soldier frowned.

"Not the point," she chastised lightly. "The point is that you have a plethora of wonderful qualities, James, so of which are rather obvious."

He hummed noncommittally and they boarded the bus. It was a quiet, short trip and then Harper was again tugging lightly at his hand. They disembarked and began walking up the street. He looked around, admiring the cute little suburban neighborhood.

"It must have been nice to grow up here," Bucky commented.

"It was," she agreed. "I was really fortunate to grow up with such easy access to the city but still in a house with a little yard and everything."

"Will you break up with me if I bolt?" he asked as she guided him down a side street.

Harper stopped walking, pulling him to a stop as well. She grabbed his metal hand and looked up at him with a serious look in her eyes, both of her hands tightly gripping his in the space between them. "James. How can I help you feel less nervous?"

"Is there anything I shouldn't say or do? Anything I should say or do?"

"Please just be yourself. I love you for you, and I want them to get to know you, too."

"Doll, I'm a World War II vet, prisoner of war, brainwashed assassin, fugitive, and now an independent tactical contractor with the government. How on earth can I be myself to win over your family?"

"First off, you don't have to win them over. They do not now, nor have they ever, swayed what I've wanted and done in my life. Second, you are much more than those labels. I know them all better than most and I love you. I've loved you for nearly a decade. That won't change over the course of dinner with my family."

"I want them to like me," he admitted quietly.

"And they will. Trust me," Harper implored.

"Okay," he nodded, taking a deep breath. "We should get going before we're late."

Dinner seemed to be going well. He had been instructed to drop the formalities of "sir" and "ma'am," which felt odd but was perhaps a good sign. He wondered if he'd ever get used to calling his girlfriend's parents by name. Still, everyone had been warm, friendly, and accepting with the exception of Natalie who just seemed generally withdrawn and uncertain. He had been included in conversation, but also allowed to take a back seat. It was all going much better than he had anticipated.

As dinner was winding down, Natalie blurted, "Harper, can we talk?"

The table fell into its first strained silence of the evening. All eyes moved between the two sisters. He could feel the tension in Harper's body from her spot at his right. To his left at the head of the table, her father shifted uncomfortably. At the opposite head, her mother had paused, gazing at her daughters over the rim of her water glass. And across from him, Jordan was surprisingly quiet.

Finally, Harper responded, "Sure. We could grab our coats and go out back to the garden swing?"

Natalie nodded her agreement hastily, rising from her seat. Harper followed suit and Bucky reached out, gently taking her hand. The brunette gazed down at him and offered him a small smile, assuring him that she was alright. He squeezed her fingers comfortingly before letting them drop. The two disappeared from the room and a few moments later, the back door opened and then clicked shut.

Even then, it was silent for another minute. Jordan was the one to break it with a snappy, "They needed to talk. Glad Natalie is finally ready to do it."

"So she thinks," sighed Mrs. Montgomery, who had earlier insisted he call her Dawn. "As soon as Harper says anything she doesn't like…"

"We all know Harper has always been the most diplomatic one in this family," Uncle Martin pointed out. "If any of us can get away with telling Natalie some hard truths, it's her."

Mr. Montgomery – or, rather, Mitchel – hummed uncertainly. "Even with the best chance, I doubt Natalie is really ready to hear the things Harper might say. It really seemed like things got bad between them."

"I think so," Dawn nodded. "It's, of course, hard to tell how bad things got from Harper's perspective. She still has that nasty habit of keeping things to herself to protect all of us. Has she confided in you at all, James?"

He shifted nervously. What was he supposed to say? How much did Harper want her family to know? Luckily, Mitchel added, "Not that we're asking you to give us details. It would certainly put our minds at ease if she finally had someone she actually really talks to."

Feeling a tad more comfortable, he answered, "Well, Harper does always look out for others, and I'm no exception. She's been amazingly conscious of my feelings since I met her. But I do think she tells me a lot about her own, too."

"I'm sorry, then, that you must have come tonight expecting this sort of tension. Our family usually isn't like this," Dawn replied.

"Some things you can't just let go of," Jordan snapped, moodily swilling the water in her glass. "Of course there's tension – Natalie was constantly blowing up at Harper for years, refused to see her in any capacity, screamed at her over Gram's goddamn coffin, insulted James without even knowing him and while Harper was mourning him. I mean, how could there not have been tension between them?"

Bucky gazed at the tabletop guiltily for a moment, then said, "My apologies for the tension my presence may have caused as well. I know Natalie had reservations which would be perfectly reasonable for all of you to share. I hope that in time I can-"

"James, you're totally cool," Jordan interrupted. "You haven't caused any tension. I for one could get used to having a hot brother-in-law to stare at across the table."

He flushed and was saved responding to the awkward comment by Uncle Martin chiming in, "No reservations here. Harper has excellent judgement. She's always been a smart cookie wise beyond her years. If she finally brought someone home, you've already passed any test I could give you."

"We know things were really hard for Harper in Romania," Mitchel spoke up. He paused for a moment, clearly choosing his next words as he did so. "It was a series of unfortunate events we couldn't save her from, even if she would have accepted that much help from us. She was so sad, so defeated, so hopeless. But then we started hearing about her new friend James, and we got peeks of the Harper we knew again. And when she told us that actually you had started dating, I was just so relieved to see my daughter was finally happy. I can't thank you enough for being the support she needed and had probably never had before."

Bucky was moved by her father's kindness and gratitude. To his chagrin, something clenched hard in his chest.

Dawn spoke up next, "I'm the only one here that really saw any of what Harper went through after the Snap. As I mourned my husband, I saw my pain mirrored in her. I won't say we never had any worries at all, but none were about you as a person. Martin and Mitchel hit the nail on the head – Harper does have great judgement and all any parent could hope for is that their child finds someone who makes them happy. But after the Accords, with public opinion so split, we had worried that she would come under fire or face consequences by association. However, in the years of grieving we now call the Blip, it was obvious to me how dearly Harper loves you. There's no way I could not be grateful that you're back in her life."

Mitchel added, "I also can't pretend like it isn't a comfort that Harper found someone who can obviously take care of her. Not that she'd ever admit to needing anything of the sort, but we've always had worries for her. She loves big cities, but what if she got a cluster out of the blue in a not so safe place? What if she was far from home; how would she get back? Can she really take care of herself when she's suffering like that? Not that we expect you to become her caretaker, or to be at her side at all times, but more than the average guy, I'd say you're pretty well able to fend for her when she can't for herself."

Bucky could hardly believe the honest praise and acceptance he was receiving. He didn't understand what he had done to possibly prove himself to this family prior to even meeting them, but they all seemed to trust him and approve of his presence in Harper's life.

He cleared his throat, banishing the emotion from it, before saying, "Thank you all. I uhm… I haven't had family for a long, long time. That I can sit as even a peripheral part of yours is something I'm thankful for.

"I love Harper. She's the most genuinely kind, compassionate person I've ever met. She's smart and driven, strong and self-assured. I would give anything for her, and will always do my best to protect and take care of her."

Mitchel clapped him on the shoulder, even despite it being his cybernetic one, and grinned. "Music to a father's ear."

"Also, peripheral part of the family? Nah, you've got yourself at least one sister now, James," Jordan corrected cheerfully.

"This strange little bunch will welcome you into the fold so long as you want to be part of it," Dawn agreed with a smile.

"It will be hard, but give me a little time and I can probably come around to the idea of having a son-in-law who's a damn Yankees fan," Mitchel added with a teasing laugh.

Martin joined in, "Just keep your shitty sports opinions to yourself and don't hold Harper hostage out in New York and we'll be fine."

"No worries there," Bucky assured with a smile of his own. "I wasn't exaggerating when I said I'd do anything for her; at least on paper I'll be a Bostonian pretty soon."

"Well then, expect more dinner invitations," Dawn replied happily.

"Ooh, so if Harper's shackin' up, can we expect wedding bells soon? Or maybe some out of wedlock babies? You gotta be working on those," Jordan chortled.

For all the heat that immediately flamed in Bucky's cheeks, Mitchel went absolutely pale beside him. Dawn began to chastise her daughter who merely continued to laugh and make innuendo as the men at the table did everything in their power to avoid gazes, none of them wanting to acknowledge the obvious truth that Bucky was indeed fucking their previously virginal family member.

A/N: I'm so sorry for disappearing. Grad school has been absolutely kicking my ass. I think I've carved out a little bit of time where I can go back to more regular updates now, though. Fingers crossed. Thank you for all the support even while I was gone. I'm really grateful to those of you who keeping sticking with me!