Author's Note: Marvel owns what it owns, and I own what I own, let's keep it that way shall we? Don't Sue me!
Recommended Listening: Rhinestone Cowboy by Glen Campbell; Good Ride Cowboy by Dylan Miller; Hoedown by Emerson, Lake, and Palmer; How 'Bout them Cowgirls by George Strait
Chapter 36: Heyi Cowgirl!
Bucky liked peopled watching. He'd always been particularly observant. It had saved his skin more than once, before and after Hydra as a means of survival. However, in Wakanda, he found himself as an observer in a way he'd never experienced before. Rather than being one of the faces in the crowd, he found that people smiled and greeted him, their eyes always watchful and curious. They didn't bother him, but he knew he was being watched. Still, people watched him, and he watched them back. It was The Midwinter Festival, which Bucky had been told, was the event of the year. The kids had practically dragged him to the festival grounds, even though he didn't have livestock or produce to sell. It was nice, however, to listen to the sounds of Wakandans living their lives and mostly taking no mind of the stranger amongst them.
He scanned the crowds, looking for one person in particular. He knew he shouldn't be looking for her, she was probably busy out with the horses, doing whatever it was that she was doing with Jelani, but still, he rather hoped that he would be able to see her at some point when they both weren't supposed to be working.
It had been three weeks since he'd walked to the Horse village in the middle of the night, and they'd had their conversation. Every Tuesday since then, they'd spent their lunch hour talking about Becca. That first Tuesday had been awkward, but after that, he'd started looking forward to their lunchtime discussions. It was a welcome break from being trapped inside his own head, and they both had a lot to say and ask about his sister.
For his part, he was curious about the type of woman Becca had become, and the family she'd left behind. Ramirez wanted to know what she was like growing up. To keep things fair, they both got thirty minutes to ask and have their questions answered. Which, depending on how in-depth their questions were meant they only got to or three questions per lunch hour.
Yes, it was an imperfect system, but for them, it seemed to work. Things were still tense, but since Ramirez had told him that she wanted to talk about Becca, some of the tension had subsided substantially. Part of this was because they avoided any topic or thread of conversation that linked back to their and their history. Whether by unspoken rule or happy coincidence, they hadn't ventured into awkward territory.
Still, Bucky was curious about Ramirez and was eager to see if she would want to talk with him outside of their allotted lunchtime.
"Heyi, White wolf." Bucky started, turning to see his neighbor Omondi approaching.
"Elder Omondi." He nodded in response.
A short, rail-thin Wakandan man with long white dreads, Omondi was the eldest chief of the village where he was staying and had volunteered to take him in as his sponsor when Shuri had brought him out into the countryside shortly after she'd thawed him out. So he was Bucky's neighbor, sponsor, and functionally his boss, which made all of their interactions strange in a way that Bucky couldn't quite define.
"That's just Omondi to you." The man corrected as he approached. "You really should start wearing your Kimoyo bracelet while you're out." He scolded, taking his walking stick up in both hands.
"Why's that?"
"The royal family have been trying to get a hold of you."
"What? Why?" His mind began to spin. What had happened? Was it Steve? Had something terrible happened? Was he hurt? Killed?
"They wanted you to eat lunch with them in honor of the festival. You were due there twenty minutes ago."
"Oh." He breathed, as his heart stopped pounding quite as quickly. "Thank you for letting me know."
"Do you know the way?"
"I don't."
"Then, I will show you." Before Bucky could manage a "thank you," Omondi set off toward the center of the festival, weaving this way and that way through the throngs of people that had come to the celebration. Bucky followed after, aware of how the crowds seemed to part before them.
"So, you came!" Omondi commented cordially as they walked.
"The kids wouldn't have forgiven me if I hadn't. He replied. It wasn't a total lie, only a lie through omission.
"Well, good. They should bully you more often. The festival is one of the great Wakandan traditions. No one should miss out on seeing it." he paused as they took a sharp turn before continuing his questions. "How have you liked Wakanda?"
"It's been nice. Quiet. It's very peaceful here." Bucky answered.
"I am glad to hear White Boy. You have been a very good neighbor." Omondi commented.
"You and your village have been very good to me." Bucky replied, "I don't know how I can ever repay your kindness."
"You should not spend so much time alone. It is not healthy. You carry a heavyweight from the life you have led. It is not a crime to allow others to help you with its weight." Omondi said. "A friend would be good for you, and who knows, maybe in return, you'll be able to share their load with them too."
Bucky opened his mouth to respond but thought better of it. The man wasn't wrong. He did spend a lot of time by himself and for a good reason. He was coming down off of 70 years of brainwashing and torture, adding people into the mix was more than he was prepared for. Plus, finding peers closer to his own age would require some serious thinking. Was he almost a hundred, or was he closer to his mid-thirties? By who's count was he keeping score? It was a difficult question.
"What about that other American, the one at Jelani's?" Omondi supplied when Bucky didn't say anything. "Jelani tells me you've been spending your lunch hour with her on Tuesdays."
Of course he did. Bucky couldn't help but wonder if Jelani had given Ramirez the same talk that he was now getting from Omondi.
"You might want to give it a try," Omondi concluded as a shady tent overlooking the Midwinter Festival's festivities came into view. "They're expecting you. I'll see you after." Omondi motioned with his head.
Bucky paused, looking back at Omondi's retreating form, then up to the tent where he could hear laughter and voices. He would rather be out in the grassland watching over his goats than stuck at a formal luncheon, but he owed the King and his family this at the very least. He wished he'd known in advance to be able to mentally prepared himself for everything that was getting ready to take place, as the thought of all of the people, noise, and social protocol made his head begin to spin.
"So they got you too, huh, Barnes?"
He turned to see Ramirez walking up this hill toward him. Her usual pants and button-down replaced by a wrap skirt in the dark oranges and blacks and tans of the plains tribe and black halter, large bronze and copper earrings hung from her ears, and her long hair was twisted and braided, and wrapped with a cloth of a similar pattern as her skirt.
Bucky looked down at what he was wearing. The red and blue scarf and matching shirt and pants that Shuri had first given him when he'd arrived. It was clean and lacked holes or stains, but by comparison to her, he looked unkempt and underdressed.
"I meant the lunch." She clarified as she came up beside him.
"Yeah. I received the invitation a little late, so I'm not quite as dressed." He explained.
"This was part Teela, part Jelani, and I'm sure mostly Princess Shuri," Ramirez commented, glancing up at the tent. A look of dread crossed her expression. "If we started running now, how far do you think we'd get before they caught us?" She asked dryly.
Bucky looked down, they were both wearing leather sandals, although Ramirez's were the kind that wrapped around her calves with thick straps. "Well, with those shoes, you wouldn't get very far. I could carry you over my shoulder, but that would slow me down considerably." He reasoned.
Ramirez snorted, shaking her head. "Every man for themselves, huh?" She asked, looking up at him, she arched a graceful eyebrow before returning her attention to the tent. "They're our hosts. It would be rude." She said, more to herself than to him.
Then there was a transformation. In an instant, she looked somehow more at ease, more relaxed, an easy smile on her face, "Come on Barnes, we're already late, we shouldn't keep our hosts waiting." She said before charging up the hill without another word.
A mask. Bucky realized. It was what he'd seen on the ranch too. A performance. Was that what she was doing with him every Tuesday? He couldn't help but wonder with creeping dread as he walked up the hill after her. He replayed their interactions as if upon closer inspection, he'd find something he'd missed before.
Reaching the entrance of the tent, he paused, watching the scene unfold before him. Princess Shuri had taken Ramirez over to the Queen-mother, who sat at the head of the table in her place of honor and was now engaged in a polite exchange. Ramirez executed a small bobbing curtesy, introducing herself in Wakandan, and thanking the queen mother for her gracious invitation. Her pronunciation was impeccable. She's been practicing. Bucky couldn't help but notice. He'd heard her a couple of Tuesday's before their scheduled lunchtime, working on Wakandan phrases and expressions with Sisay and Jelani.
The Queen-mother smiled graciously. For her part, Ramirez looked the perfect picture of calm, composed, and poised, all except the clasped hands, which she was squeezing so tightly it looked painful.
Bucky paused as a silent presence settled beside him. "General." He nodded.
"White Wolf," Okoye said in sharp English.
"Only my best behavior." Bucky murmured.
"I would expect nothing less." She answered coolly.
Bucky nodded. He didn't mind her demeanor. He understood, and he respected her role and position. He hadn't exactly started on the best foot with King T'Challa or his head of security. Being menacing wasn't just for show, and Bucky knew on instinct alone that he did not want to ever find himself on the pointy end of Okoye's spear. Ever.
"White Wolf. Join us!" The Queen Mother called in plain English, beckoning him over to the table where she, the Princess Shuri, and Ramirez were already sitting.
"Your highness, thank you for the invitation." He nodded as he approached the table, pausing only as Okoye indicated which seat he would be occupying.
He was with his back to the entrance, which made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge. But if anyone in Wakanda wanted to kill him, he'd imagine it would be the aforementioned General, who would be honorable enough to kill him face to face, rather than with a knife to the back.
Sinking down in the seat next to Ramirez, he looked across the table where Princess Shuri and The Queen mother already sat, two empty seats between them for The King and another guest.
"How are you finding Wakanda so far, Magdalene?" The Queen Mother asked her eyes flitting between the two foreigners at her table.
"Very Well. I am profoundly grateful for the tremendous generosity and kindness I've been shown by everyone I've met since I've arrived in your beautiful country," Ramirez answered warmly, everything about her looked at ease. Or rather almost, Bucky couldn't help but notice how her hands were still clenched in her lap.
The Queen Mother nodded graciously, before looking up and behind them, a regal smile gracing her expression. "Ahh, my son."
Everyone turned to see The King with the woman he'd called on at the meeting when they'd found Ramirez, enter the tent, followed by his entourage of Doras.
"Barnes. Magdalen." He nodded graciously as he unhooked his arm from the woman's and turned to address them "
Bucky rose to his feet, as Ramirez did the same, and turned to the young monarch. "I apologize for the last-minute invitation, but we are glad you could both make it," T'Challa said, first shaking Bucky's hand before he turned to Ramirez.
"Thank you for inviting us, your highness." Ramirez managed in Wakandan as they shook hands.
"I see you have been practicing." The King said, gracing her with a smile. "Jelani tells me you have been putting my birthday gift to good use."
Ramirez nodded as they released hands. She returned the King's smile with a hesitant one of her own, before continuing in English. "Yes, I haven't had the opportunity to say thank you for the generous gift. I have been working very hard to make the absolute most out of them."
Bucky watched the exchange with curiosity, his gaze darting back and forth between them. Birthday gift? He pondered a moment. Oh Shit. It had been her birthday. He knew her birthday. It was November 11th, Armistice Day, he'd written it down in his journal. Bucky backtracked, trying to remember when the 11th had been. The day I carried her down the mountain. It had been her birthday?
"Barnes, Magdalene, I believe you've already met her, but this is Nakia of the River tribe, and head of Wakandan international intelligence."
"His girlfriend." The Princess supplied not as under her breath as her brother would've liked.
Nakia, however, took it in stride. "A pleasure to meet you both, formally, this time," Nakia said, shaking hands with both him and Ramirez before following the King around the table.
The King sunk down, sitting down in the seat beside his mother, and Nakia sat between him and the Princess. When the royal family had settled, he looked up and motioned for them to sit as well.
Greeting his mother and sister, The King paused as the food was brought out and presented to the table. "Please, eat, drink and talk freely," He urged them. "This is a day of celebration, and you are my guests."
Ramirez thanked him again, before diving right into the meal, Bucky followed a little more cautiously, watching the physical cues of everyone around him, particularly Ramirez, who sat on his right side, still strained and tense like a rubber band about to snap.
Was it him? Was it the situation? Bucky didn't know, so he stayed quiet, watching and listening to what was going on around him. Aside from not knowing what to say, he didn't have all that much to say that would pass as pleasant lunch conversation. So he just listened. The royal family chatted amicably, occasionally The King and Princess quibbled, while Nakia and Ramirez were talking about ranching in west Texas, crop yields, and seasonal weather patterns and climate in Spanish.
From what Bucky could catch, Ramirez was doing her best to answer them but often finished with "I think...I was a kid, and it's been a while...I can look it up if you'd like."
To which Nakia would shake her head and say, "No, no, thank you, Ms. Ramirez." And then would proceed to the next question. Bucky was amazed at how much Spanish he knew, considering all of the other languages and information Hydra had shoved in his brain.
All of this came to an abrupt halt when a message buzzed at her wrist. She stopped mid-sentence and looked down, reading the message. "Everything all right?" The Queen-mother questioned as all eyes turned to focus on Ramirez.
Ramirez nodded. "Yes. I'm afraid I must excuse myself. I have to return to the stock pens. There is a fence breach. All hands on deck." She glanced up and around at the assembled company. "Thank you, Queen-mother, for your hospitality. Thank you, your highness, for inviting me to dine at your table."
"Of course. We shall not detain you." The King replied graciously.
Ramirez rose, rushing her thanks and goodbyes to everyone. Pausing, she glanced down, nodded to him, and left the tent as the assembled company chorused their farewells to her retreating form.
Once she disappeared into the bustling crowds of the festival, all eyes turned to him.
"How have you been enjoying the Midwinter Festival, Mr. Barnes?" The King inquired, taking a sip of his drink.
Why did he feel like this was somehow a trap? They were going to find a way to bring this back around to Ramirez, ask him how they were getting along, how she was adjusting. So how was he supposed to respond to that? They were laying a trap for him, and he wasn't sure how to avoid springing it. "I honestly hadn't had a chance to look around before lunch. I look forward to getting the chance to see all that the Midwinter Festival has to offer." He said.
"Were you surprised to see Ms. Ramirez here?" The Princess piped up.
There it is. "No. She told me she was going to be at the festival."
"Jelani tells me you've been having lunch every Tuesday together." The King continued. "How is she adjusting life in Wakanda?"
Bucky paused. What was there to say? He'd seen her once a week for three weeks, for an hour. Before that? They hadn't exactly been on speaking terms. "I don't think I could speak to that. I'm still adjusting, and I've been here quite a bit longer."
The King nodded, and the lunch passed without further comment on the subject of Ramirez. Instead, Princess Shuri asked him about his goats, and how Omondi and the others were doing in the village. He asked her about her projects, and she was able to share some of the less classified things.
Lunch ended, and the royal family and Nakia bid him farewell, and he walked back through the festival grounds, his mind trying to digest what he'd just seen.
The Wakandans were trying to gauge how he and Ramirez were getting along. Between Omondi, T'Challa, and now he assumed Shuri, Jelani, and the rest of them, he and Ramirez were being watched like hawks. It made sense, the only two foreigners in the entire country, they want to make sure they aren't getting into trouble. Was Ramirez receiving the same sort of treatment? What did she think of all of this?
For her part, Ramirez was excellent at playing whatever role needed to be played, particularly at lunch. But, he couldn't help but notice, she'd been perfectly cordial and candid with him right before they'd joined the royal family. Did she want to talk to him? Did she look forward to talking to him the way that he was with her? Or was this simply a favor to his sister and Steve?
Bucky didn't know, and he knew the only way to find out would be to ask, which at the moment felt like an insurmountable task.
"I trust lunch with the King went well," Omondi commented as Bucky arrived back at the goat paddocks.
As part of the festival there was a nationwide livestock sale, which accounted for the presence of the entire herding and ranching community. Omondi, who had several hundred goats split into various herds under the direction of his sons and sons in law, was a key figure not just in the village but in the country. As such, there were a bunch of Wakandan men gathered around Omondi, who all gave Bucky a critical look at his approach.
"I did." He replied, surveying the group of men uncertainly.
Sensing Bucky's discomfort, Omondi glanced around at the group, firing off several rapid bursts of Wakandan that Bucky didn't quite catch all of. However, there were two particular phrases that he was able to catch. "Lunch with our king," and "Cowgirl was there."
What else the man said, Bucky didn't exactly know, but there was a round of laughs, and their demeanor changed.
Bucky shifted uncertainly as the men returned to their conversation with Omondi. He didn't need to be here for this. He had told the King that he was going to explore and see what the festival had to offer.
I just want to go home. What? Back to his hut? To read? He was still trying to catch up after all. No, he was most likely going to go back to the hut, and journal, and he was going to sit and obsess over all of the stuff he was remembering, the violent, horrible things that the Winter Soldier had done.
A friend would be good for you.
Bucky would've laughed if it wasn't true. Unfortunately for both of them, the only likely candidate at the moment was Ramirez, and he still got the feeling that she only tolerated being around him. He wouldn't dare burden her with such a task.
Slipping away from the goat pens, he wove his way through the festival's stalls and vendors—all of them selling anything from fresh produce to fine jewelry. There was, of course, what could be considered fair food: frozen and fried desserts, meats on sticks, meats in between pieces of bread, all sorts of roasted and fried vegetables. There was even a shaved ice stand, although not with the technicolor array of flavors that he remembered buying from the stands in Coney Island and Central Park.
It was crowded and loud, and he couldn't help but notice the stares and passing whispers. He tried to ignore them. After all, what could he exactly do to stop them? They would whisper regardless of what he did, just on the basis that he wasn't Wakandan, and he was missing an arm, never mind that he was the guy who'd briefly been blamed for the death of their previous King.
Now that he was on the mend, he could go back out into the world and help Steve, Wilson, and Maximoff. Perhaps he could help them find Romanoff. Not that 'Tasha would ever let him find her if she didn't want him to.
No. He shook his head. He could hardly control his flashbacks, and his nightmares were violent enough without going back into the field. It wouldn't be a good thing for him. It wouldn't be a good thing for anyone.
A friend would be good for you—someone to share your burden.
Bucky was pulled from his thoughts by the roar of massive bodies and the thunder of hooves.
He was near the cattle yards.
Glancing around, he realized that just a few hundred yards beyond the outskirts of the festival grounds, there was a massive field where the cattle were being moved into different pens.
The thunder of hooves was pierced by quick shouts in bursts of Wakandan. A call and response, almost like a song communicating something utterly foreign to Bucky, but that the riders seemed to understand and follow. His eyes scanned the field until he found Ramirez among them. Her hair was still wrapped up in the traditional Wakandans scarf, and she still wore the halter top but had removed the wrap skirt, using it as a scarf slung across her body, and now wore pants. Her massive beaten bronze and copper earrings were gone. Still, the reins, saddle, and saddle blanket of her horse, and all of the Wakandan riders were highly ornamented with and bangles and bells, which made an audible jangling that could be heard even over the massive thunder of hooves.
Her face, Bucky couldn't help but notice was bent in focus and concentration as she and the horse moved together as one. It was fluid and natural, and the horse it seemed moved practically by telepathy as she didn't seem to be directing the horse at all with the reins. She wasn't alone, of course, there was Sisay, Jelani, and a few others all on horseback moving cows into various pens while others on the ground moved gates and orchestrated the next movement of animals and workers.
The ground was dry, and the movements of the massive animals raised dust, which swirled around them in the light afternoon breeze. Bucky found his gaze drawn to Ramirez as she worked, the way she maneuvered the horse in perfect harmony with the others. He'd never seen her on a horse, strange, considering he'd spent two weeks on her ranch. Well...not all that strange, considering he hadn't exactly been all there for most of it. But seeing her on horseback now, she looked more at ease than he'd ever seen her before. There was something peaceful about her expression. Her face was bent in concentration and absolute focus, her eyes continually moving and accessing the situation second by second. Her mouth also moved as she worked, either answering the call or chewing on the corner of her mouth or licking her lips. It was an open and honest expression.
He was staring, Bucky knew he was starring, but he couldn't look away as she worked, unaware of his presence, in what could best be described as her natural habitat.
There were only a few cows left, which they quickly and expertly sorted into the appropriate pens. Then over the plains came a song. It was loud and joyous, and Bucky managed about every third word or so. It was about finishing a hard day's work and going home to the girl you love. Ramirez sang along, in a full chested voice, a broad grin on her face.
Nothing else to see, you should go before she realizes you've been watching. Bucky thought as he turned to go. "Heyi, White Wolf!" A series of voices chorused over the field and reached him. He froze, momentarily contemplating pretending that he hadn't heard them, and walking away before they could reach him, but knew that he'd been made, and he'd have to turn and face the consequences.
Turning back around, he found that Jelani had broken off from the group and was trotting toward where he was standing. "You should come to the stables. A few of my riders would like to meet you!" He called. "Unless Omondi needs you elsewhere."
"I can go to the stables," Bucky answered, glancing past Jelani to Ramirez, who had stopped a distance away and was watching the exchange.
"Don't worry. She doesn't bite. See you in a few," Jelani winked before, clicking his tongue, directing his horse back toward the other riders.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Bucky followed after, and soon found himself surrounded by horses, and their riders. Jelani was there, of course, and introduced them in turn. They all shook his hand politely and asked him how he liked the festival, each of them expressing surprise when Bucky was able to respond in passable Wakandan.
After a few minutes, the crowd dispersed, and Bucky and Jelani were left standing alone. It was an open-air set of stalls not really a barn, more like a set of posts that the riders were tying their horses to. He could see Ramirez moving around her horse, fastening a feedbag and mask to the horse's harness before she started removing the tack, setting it on a nearby log where the others were placing their saddles.
"You ever been on a horse, White Wolf?" Jelani inquired amicably.
"No." Bucky shook his head, redirecting his attention to Jelani.
"Really? The King tells me that you were on Cowgirl's ranch for two weeks. She didn't get you on a horse?"
"I prefer having both feet on the ground," Bucky said quickly. The idea of getting on the back of a horse was more than enough to make his blood pressure skyrocket, never mind that Ramirez's head had shot up and she was now watching them from where she was standing.
"Omondi says that you have a keen eye. You could be useful."
Bucky didn't know how to respond, and he grasped at straws, trying to figure out what to say next. His people and conversational capacity long spent after his lunch with the Royal Family, and now his brain was frantically trying to come up with something, but only drawing a blank.
Then, Ramirez's voice broke the silence. "Hey, Barnes! Can you come over here a minute?" She called.
Glancing at Jelani, Jelani gave him the universal "Go on," motion with his head, and Bucky nodded, excusing himself and quickly crossing the yard to where Ramirez was working on her horse.
Rounding the back of the horse, he found Ramirez crouched. She looked up at his approach, a grimace creasing her features. "What's wrong?" He asked, stopping in his tracks.
"Sounded like you could use an out," Ramirez replied with a thin smile that quickly returned to a grimace. "Could you...can you.." she paused, licking her lips, motioned vaguely to the hoof pick lying on the ground with her right hand, her left clutched against her. "I'll never hear the end of it if I asked them for help." She said.
Bucky nodded, understanding her meaning, and wordlessly retrieved the pick.
"If you don't mind too much, could you help me pick out the hooves? I'll lift the hoof if you pick it out, I can walk you through it if you'd like."
"I remember," he replied, adjusting the pick in his hand.
"So you remember that, huh?" She cracked a small smile as she lifted the first hoof, straddling the horse's leg, held it steady.
"I had a good teacher," Bucky said as he started to remove the compacted dirt and mud from the pad of the hoof. It was slow going with only one hand, but Ramirez was keeping the hoof steady, so it wasn't as difficult as it might have been otherwise.
"How'd the rest of lunch go?" She commented casually as he worked.
"Fine." Bucky paused, glancing up at her, they met each other's gaze. "The King wanted to know how you're adjusting to life in Wakanda."
Much to her credit, Ramirez's facial features remained perfectly still, even as her eyes surveyed his expression. "Oh? And what did you say?"
"Said I wasn't qualified to speak to that." He answered.
Ramirez snorted, but nodded, offering no other commentary.
"Was that okay?" Bucky asked uncertainly.
"That looks good." She said, ignoring his question. "Help me with the other three?"
"Sure." He nodded.
They moved to the next one, and he worked in silence a moment before Ramirez spoke again. "Yeah. That was fine." She paused, "Level with me, Barnes. Is there some kind of betting pool that I'm unaware of?" She asked, the exasperation thick in her voice.
"No. Why?"
"It feels like everyone has taken a tremendous interest in our interactions recently. I figured money had to be involved," Ramirez shook her head.
So it wasn't just him. That was a relief. "Yeah, I noticed that too." He paused, "Does it bother you? I'm sure if we said something, it would stop."
"I doubt it," Ramirez shrugged, "I was just wondering what the stakes were and if I should place a wager."
"What?" He stammered.
She paused, looking up at him, cracked a smile, giggling quietly. "It was a joke, Barnes."
"Oh. Right."
"So, other than that, nothing extraordinary happened after I left? You have a chance to explore the festival?" She inquired as they completed the second hoof and moved around to the third.
"Nothing extraordinary to report. I did get a chance to walk around for a bit."
"Anything exciting?"
"Not particularly," He shrugged casually.
"Must be pretty boring if you were driven to watching us work," She commented with a light laugh. It wasn't a harsh or mean laugh. It was pleasant and kind. Probably kinder than he deserved.
"I'd never seen a cattle round-up or drive or whatever," He explained, not about to mention that the crowds and noise had been getting to him.
Ramirez paused, again looking up at him, "No. I guess you hadn't." She said thoughtfully, surveying him a moment before focusing back down on what they were doing.
"So what about you? Have you had a chance to explore?" He asked, his attention focused down on the hoof, picking and scraping at the mud, grass, and twigs that had compacted.
"Not too much. Just when I was walking to lunch."
They paused, both standing up and watching as a group of the riders walked by, "Heyi White Wolf, see you later, ewe?" They called, waving as they passed.
Bucky nodded, watching Ramirez's expression out of the corner of his eyes as they walked away. It wasn't angry or frustrated. If anything, it was amused. "What?" He asked as they walked around to the last hoof.
"They really like you, don't they?" She said, picking up the horse's leg.
"Who?"
"The kids. Omondi. Jelani, my co-workers, the Wakandans in general."
"Oh. That." He said sourly. "I think it's more that I'm a curiosity. The strange one-armed white guy."
"You are a strange white guy with one arm." She said a matter of factly, releasing the last hoof and giving the horse's haunch a pat. Without missing a beat, she extended her hand to him, "Pick, please."
Placing the pick in her open palm, Bucky watched as she turned, and crouching down by her saddlebags, started to rummage through them. His mind reeled as he tried to pick apart their current conversation to figure out what was going on. She'd recognized he was having a hard time and called him over to help her. They were having a conversation, a quite normal, he'd even argue a pleasant conversation. She hadn't been awkward about him calling himself 'that strange one-armed white guy.' Even Steve got a little uncomfortable when Bucky made casual reference to the arm, or now the lack thereof. She'd even asked him for his help, in a way that was both beneficial to her, and accessible for him.
"Hey Barnes, you wanna help me brush?"
"Sure." He nodded as Ramirez rose to her feet.
"Awesome, here catch." She tossed a brush to him.
Bucky caught it. Inspecting it curiously, he chuckled under his breath. Even here in the far reaches of the world, the tools were damn near identical. Ramirez moved around to the other side of the horse, where she was across him and started to brush the horse down with patient methodical circles, her eyes bright and focused were still creased with pain and exhaustion.
"Long day?"
"Yeah," She sighed, nodding. "Been up and out since about three this morning."
"Why so early?"
Ramirez snorted, "You are a dyed in the wool city kid." She shook her head, "Ummm," She began, "Well, had to get the horses out and ready to go for the day. Then coordinating with the other tribes to drive their cattle and then getting them to the yard. Then, of course, the fence breach. It's been a hell of a day." She sighed.
"Sounds like it." He agreed.
They continued in silence, working quietly on their respective sides a moment before Ramirez spoke again. "Okay. I gotta ask. Is there a reason why they call you White Wolf? Other than your pallid completion, I mean?" She watched him a moment, her eyes just visible over the horse's back, before adding. "And before you eye-roll into another dimension, I do ask in earnest. They keep referring to you as the White Wolf. I'm just wondering if I should refer to you as the Lobo Blanco as well."
"I wasn't going to eye-roll into another dimension Ramirez, and no, you don't have to call me that." He paused, trying to find the most direct path through what was a complicated story. "It's an honorific. It means I've been accepted into Wakanda as an outsider. I've been effectively adopted into Wakanda."
"Ah. So a title. Color me a little disappointed." She said, shaking her head.
"I can't stop you from calling me, Lobo Blanco."
She looked up at him. "You have incredible pronunciation for a gringo. I'm impressed."
"But you knew that I mean—" He cut himself off, bracing himself for a negative reaction.
Instead, Ramirez just shrugged, "I mean yeah. I know that you speak 30 languages, but I didn't know if you spoke it like a gringo or like a native speaker. I would consider myself to be a native speaker, and even I had a bit of trouble blending in, in Juarez." She replied. "How's your idiomatic Spanish? They teach you all of the swear words?"
Bucky snorted. That would've been something. "No." He shook his head. "Not officially. I did pick up some idiomatic and profane language via exposure but nothing sanctioned per-say." He paused as he processed the words coming out of his mouth.
They were talking about Hydra, they were talking about the Winter Soldier, and about the training, they'd given him. Shouldn't he be feeling something? Shouldn't she be more on edge? She knew what he'd done for them, wouldn't she be worried about, triggering him or something? Instead, she looked perfectly at ease and content as she continued working the brush in little circles. If she was afraid of him or afraid of eliciting a reaction out of him, she didn't show it.
"Well, I'll have to teach you some of the more colorful Spanish colloquialisms some time." She continued, unaware of his internal dialogue. "Provided you can help me with swear words in a language of your choosing. Even English, I like outdated slang and swear words."
"Oh, the old-timey curse words." He hazarded a little a vague sarcasm with a dash of mock innocence. "I don't think I know any of those."
"Oh, bullshit, Barnes," She rolled her eyes. "You forget I've spent a lot of my life around members of the armed forces, and I'll have you know Army has the second-worst language, behind Navy."
"Behind Navy? I'm fucking appalled."
Ramirez laughed. "Well, they say swear like a sailor for a reason. Swear like an Army Sergeant doesn't quite have the same ring to it."
"I'd have to agree with you." Bucky nodded.
"Heyi, Cowgirl."
They both turned to see Jelani standing a few feet away. "Ewe, Jelani?" She turned to the man, her body language immediately becoming more rigid than it had been only a second before.
"When you are done with that, take some time. We won't need you until this evening." Jelani paused, surveying her a moment. "Get a wrap on your wrist and hand. You're not fooling anyone."
"Ewe." She nodded, and Jelani departed without another word. She turned back to the horse with a heavy sigh and resumed her careful brush strokes. "It's been a while since I've worked like that. My hand is bothering me." She explained the anger, frustration, and venom in her words palpable. Ramirez glanced up at him, meeting his gaze, "Marble rolling pin and a couple of Hydra Douchebags will do that to you." She shook her head, "but I guess I don't have anything to complain about." Her gaze lingered a moment on his left shoulder, before looking down.
What was he supposed to say? What did she expect him to say? Bucky said nothing, finishing his work in silence. When she'd finished, he rounded the horse and extended the brush to her. "Anything else?" He inquired as she took the brush from him and returned them to the saddlebag.
"Nope, that'll be all Lobo Blanco," Ramirez replied with a playful grin, her tone resuming its casual, almost relaxed cadence, though now Bucky was almost entirely sure that it was a mask that she'd put on to put him at ease.
"So, what are you going to do now?"
"Other than ice down my wrist and hand, not much, probably take a nap." She shrugged,
"You're not going to explore the festival grounds?" He asked. He couldn't help but hear the sharp note of disappointment in his voice.
Ramirez paused, surveying him with a mild hint of surprise. She sighed, her shoulders sagging. "It's been a long day, Barnes, and I gotta find ice for my hand. I'm sure I'll be able to check out the next festival."
"There is a shaved ice stand. It's on my way back to where Omondi is keeping the goats. I could show you. If you like." Bucky blurted out.
This is stupid. He was being stupid, but he and Ramirez had been having a good conversation, up until that brief interlude about her hand, and he wanted to know if they could have a conversation, an outing, an afternoon where they could be civil, maybe even be able to have a good time. A part of him, a small nearly non-exist part of him, part of the Bucky from the old days, wanted to see if he could make her laugh, really make her laugh. Just to see if he could. Just to see her eyes light up like they had when they'd been joking around. Just to know he was capable of it, after causing so much pain, he could create joy or happiness, even in the smallest amount. That perhaps he could make amends with someone he'd wronged or maybe even be capable of making friends.
Then again. She might be trying to find a way to politely excuse herself. They didn't exactly have the best track record with interpersonal interactions, and as she'd said, she'd had a very long day. "I'll buy you a birthday snow cone." He added.
"A birthday snow cone?" She echoed, raising an eyebrow, "You're not going to sing me the birthday song, are you?"
"Wouldn't dream of it." He shook his head,
She paused, evaluating her options. Eventually, she nodded slowly. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay." Ramirez repeated, "Shaved ice sounds good. Let me change back into my skirt and sandals, and we'll get going."
"Sounds like a solid plan."
So this is apparently a thing. Maggie couldn't help but think as she walked through the Wakandan Festival, shoulder to shoulder with none another than James Barnes.
They weren't speaking, well weren't talking at the moment. It had been a long day, but then again, that's what she'd signed up for. Work hard today, and you'll work hard again tomorrow. That's what her grandfather had always said, and that was the life of a rancher. It was a life she'd led for almost 3/4s of her life so far. But it had been a while since she'd done anything closely approximating what she'd done today, and she was sore and tired and not entirely sure she was in the mood for anyone's company, never mind that of James Barnes.
Certainly, things had been better since he'd stumbled across her laying out under the stars in the middle of the night. They'd had their Tuesday lunch hour and had talked about Becca. That had been nice. Maggie had enjoyed that. She missed her friend, and it was apparent that Barnes was both curious and eager to find out who Becca had been. It was evident that James Barnes, Bucky, still loved his sister very much.
Yet, they'd been cautious. While she wasn't sure about Barnes, Maggie, in particular, had been careful about the types of questions she's asked, and the way that she'd answered his questions. For her, it was a matter of mitigating the creepy factor. Maggie still was on edge about how much she knew about Barnes, not just the medical and service record of the Winter Solider if it could be called that, but mainly with the personal information she had on him. How exactly was she supposed to tell Barnes that his sister had, on several occasions, said that he would've loved Maggie had they known each other back in the day? Would it ever be the right time/place/context to talk about the fact that Maggie had developed a crush on the apparition of James Barnes that Becca had painted for her, during their friendship? After all, she had experienced reoccurring dreams with the historic hunk with relative frequency, including a rainy rescue that ended in warm milk and a kiss on the fire escape, and a birthday snow cone.
So her actual rainy rescue hadn't involved either warm milk or kissing of any kind, and the snow cone, well the snow cone was circumstantial to her needing ice for her wrist, but still, Maggie was struggling. How the hell was she supposed to sort through the strange array of shit that was now happening? So she'd had a little harmless historical crush that she'd been more than happy to indulge while she was looking for the guy. Had that been such a terrible thing? It had kept her sane, and frankly human, during the whole ordeal. She'd never anticipated that she would be stuck in the same place as him, spending any kind of professional or leisure time with the man. Only now she was. How exactly she planned to deal with that, she didn't know. She had planned on keeping everything strictly professional, but apparently, even that wasn't necessarily in the cards.
Let him set the terms for your interactions.
That seemed to make the most sense, and their Tuesday lunches seemed to be a natural outgrowth of his curiosity about his sister. Maggie had more than enough information to supply him, and was happy to provide answers for him.
However, as if her own private conundrum wasn't enough, there was now apparently the Wakandans increasing interest in her and Barnes's interactions. Barnes seemed just as perplexed by it as she was, which was comforting in some small way. Did the Wakandans see something that she was missing? Were they just curious about the two strange foreigners in their midst? Was this some kind of entertainment or amusement for them? Or was this simply how the Wakandans were looking out for their well being by encouraging them to become friends?
Maggie didn't know. And was it so wrong to admit that she'd enjoyed their Tuesday lunches? That talking about Becca again after going so long without even saying her name out loud wasn't something she looked forward to? Was it horrible to imagine that maybe, just maybe she enjoyed Barnes's company? Was it wrong to think that perhaps Barnes enjoyed her company too? After all, he'd enticed her out into the fairgrounds with the promise of cold desserts and ice for her hand.
"So that's what you do, huh?"
Her brain re-engaged in the present at the sound of his voice. "What?" She stammered, glancing over and up at him as they walked.
"I asked, that's what you do."
"Oh. With the horses?"
He nodded.
"Well..today was a first...it's been years since I've had to do something like all that. Normally it's just shoeing horses and shoveling shit."
"That's what it looked like back on the ranch."
"It's mostly what it was. Which is why I was practically lost out there today."
"You looked like you knew what you were doing out there."
"Well, looks can certainly be deceiving. That was superior Wakandan horse training and my teammates picking up the slack for me." She paused before adding. "But, I do appreciate your positive evaluation of my ability."
He nodded but didn't say anything.
"You gotta give me more to work with here, Barnes," is what Maggie wanted to say, but he was buying her a snow cone. So she couldn't be too critical of his lack of small talk. "What on earth possessed you to sit and watch us sorting cattle? This is a festival. Certainly, there are other events that are at least a little more interesting than watching us work."
"Not as many people." He said simply.
"Oh." He was a veteran. He had PTSD, the amount of energy it took to combat any number of anxiety and triggers, never mind how exhausting the lunch with the royal family was without the extra brain stuff happening, was astronomical. He was probably exhausted from that exertion alone, never mind actually walking and talking and functioning like a normal human being. It certainly put his rather deer in headlights look he'd had when he'd been talking with Jelani earlier into context, and explained his rather succinct answers now. But he hadn't been that way when they'd been working on the horse. Maggie paused, glancing around at the crowd of people. Aware of how the crowd seemed to part before them. Just barely wide enough for them to walk through, and that immediately closed behind them. The strange one-armed white guy. "That makes sense." She concluded lamely.
So why not just go home?
But she knew the answer. It would raise more questions, and it would ultimately reflect poorly on their hosts, and after everything the royal family had done, it wasn't worth it. That had more than factored into her decision to accept the invitation to lunch rather than take a nap.
"Did Elder Jelani give you a horse, or are you borrowing one of his?"
"Oh. No." She rushed, practically stammering. "No. The King gave me a pair for my birthday." She could feel a blush rising on her cheeks. She didn't like her birthday, and she could barely stand the idea of a King giving her two horses, even if she did need them. "I feel like it's conditional ownership, but they are functionally mine. I was riding Stella today, Skywalker is back in the village, very happy to not be working today."
"Skywalker. As in Luke Skywalker?"
"Yeah." She couldn't help but feel some relief at the fact that he didn't push her further about her birthday, or the gift of the horses, or any of it. Maggie smiled, "Catching up?"
"Yeah. Slowly."
"I bet."
"List's about a mile long, but doing my best."
"Well, when you've cleared through your backlog, I'm sure I can offer some recommendations. Star Wars may be a classic, but I think you can do better for science fiction films in the last 70 years."
"I've been browsing some lists on the internet, but would welcome any suggestions from anyone over the age of thirty."
Thirty? It seemed a little arbitrary. "The Princess?" Maggie asked as the thought dawned on her. "She's been helping you catch up, hasn't she?"
"Yeah. I think she'd made it her personal mission to give me a crash course on all of the popular culture I've missed. It's been useful, but..." He paused, licking his lips as he tried to find the right words, that panicked expression as he searched and searched for the right word, and it just didn't come creeping onto his face.
"A bit of a difference in taste." She supplied.
He exhaled, nodding, his eyes scanning the crowds. "You could say that." The relief was palpable in his voice.
"Well. As I am over the age of thirty, I am more than happy to provide recommendations for popular culture for any medium from about the mid-1980s to the present." She said.
Riley would be flipping shit. He had been a huge movie buff, Captain America enthusiast, and a walking history textbook. Maggie knew she would never have heard the end of it, ever, if she didn't ask. Ask the question, the only question that mattered. The most important plot reveal in modern cinema (with perhaps arguably the twist in Six sense). "So have you seen Empire Strikes back?"
"Yeah?" Barnes answered uncertainly.
"What'd you think?"
"It was fine." He shrugged.
"Fine?" she echoed. "What'd you think of the whole Darth Vader thing? The big reveal?"
Barnes furrowed his brow as he thought a moment. "The whole, I am your father thing?" He asked after a moment.
"Yeah!"
"Oh." He hesitated. "Hate to be a downer, but I've known about that particular twist since the movie came out."
She opened her mouth to respond but stopped. Hydra. "Ahh."
"I did absorb some popular culture through proximity, Ramirez. Personally, I prefer Star Trek, the original series to Star Wars."
"More science, less shooting?" She supplied.
"Yeah."
"Becca told me you were a huge nerd."
"That sounds like her."
Maggie chuckled but didn't have time to respond as they arrived at the shaved ice stand. Barnes spoke in passable Wakandan with the stall owner. Maggie had been practicing with Jelani and Sisay, but she couldn't imagine she'd ever get good enough to be fluent. She wanted to. She was living in-country for the foreseeable future, it would be downright rude if she didn't at least try, and Wakandan was such a beautiful language. Perhaps the Princess could just implant a language chip in her brain to give her fluency in at least 30 languages, if not more.
"Ramirez, flavor of shaved ice?" Barnes repeated.
"Cherry." Maggie blurted out.
He hesitated, glancing over at the vendor, who shook his head. "Don't think they have that one."
Maggie blushed. "Sorry. Ummm. Coconut."
Barnes nodded, ordering their shaved ices before he asked the vendor about ice for her hand. She could tell because of the way that he motioned and gestured with his hand. The vendor nodded, glancing at Barnes, then at her, then back at Barnes. Motioning down the line of stalls, he gave Barnes some rapid instructions before he handed over the first of the shaved ices.
"Ice?" Maggie asked as she took the large mound of ice and flavored syrup from him.
"He said that his wife sells something better, a few stalls down." He explained, handing over a few coins, before taking his shaved ice, thanking the vendor, started walking purposefully.
"Did he say what? I mean, I only really want ice to help with my hand." She stammered, following after him.
"Apparently something that will last longer than ice. He wasn't clear. He was just very insistent that we talk to his wife." He explained.
"Oh." She frowned.
"It's melting," Barnes commented.
"What? Oh." She glanced down at the mass of ice that was melting over her hand, and took a big bite,
Maggie sighed. It had been forever since she'd had anything this sweet or cold. It satisfied a craving that Maggie hadn't even realized that she had. She caught Barnes's gaze, cracked a small smile. "Thanks, this is really amazing."
"Let's get your hand taken care of." He replied.
She didn't know how to respond to that. She didn't know if, at this point, he would let her say no. Furthermore, she was intrigued as to what this mini-adventure would yield at the end of their quest. Stopping at the stall, the other vendor had apparently indicated, Maggie paused, "huh." Her eyes scanned the booth. It looked like jewelry: bracelets, necklaces, and rings, that all seemed to be made of various kinds of metal.
Maggie frowned. She'd seen the stupid copper bracelets advertised on TV, the ones that were supposed to help with pain and joint problems due to Arthritis. It was a load of shit, she'd read the peer-reviewed scientific articles about it, particularly when she'd had a lot of time on her hands back at the Avengers Compound. Was this really what they were suggesting? Here? In Wakanda? Really?
"Is this some kind of placebo?" She blurted out, drawing the attention of both the stall owner and Barnes.
"Perhaps in America, Cowgirl." The woman running the stall said, sourly, her accent thick. "Come come. Give me your wrist."
Maggie glanced between Barnes and the stall owner. "You should do it, Ramirez." Barnes motioned with his head for Maggie to approach.
She did as instructed, hesitantly extending her left hand and wrist to the woman, who took it in both hands and surveyed it carefully. "How?" She asked, before turning to Barnes and giving a more in-depth explanation of her question.
"Crushed." Maggie made a crushing motion with her right hand, accompanied by what she hoped came across as a crushing noise.
Barnes translated, and the woman nodded. "Ah." She let go of Maggie's hand and went to the rows upon rows of bracelets. Selecting one, the stall owner returned to where she and Barnes were standing and put the bracelet around Maggie's left wrist. "Not Placebo." The woman said firmly, before making a flexing motion with her hand.
Maggie flexed her hand experimentally and exhaled slowly. It was still stiff, and it still hurt, but it hurt considerably less, and she could actually feel her fingertips, as compared to the fuzzy buzz that she'd experienced for over the past two years. She exhaled sharply, chuckling weakly as she swallowed hard, feeling like she was about to cry. "Thank you." Maggie managed in the little Wakandan she knew. "How much?"
Barnes cut in, speaking in Wakandan with the shop owner. Setting his shaved ice down, he fished through his satchel and removed some money. He thanked the woman, picked back up his shaved ice, and continued walking.
"Barnes." She stammered, trailing behind him.
"Don't worry about it."
"Barnes you, really don't have to do that. You-it's-why-just." Maggie couldn't quite get her words out. She hadn't entirely made out how much money was exchanged, but it wasn't the same as the cost as a snow cone that she knew for sure.
"Not exactly a pair of Wakandan horses, but should be good enough for a belated birthday present." He commented, taking a sizable bite of his shaved ice
"You didn't have to do that." She managed finally.
He chewed and swallowed before replying. "How does your hand feel?"
"That's not the point, Barnes." Maggie said, "How much do I owe you?"
"I said, don't worry about it." He shrugged.
Maggie opened and closed her mouth, trying to find something to say. This was a losing battle. What was she going to do? Go return the bracelet? She looked down at it, glinting in the light. It was a multi-strand bracelet that fastened with a single clasp. Each strand was comprised of two or three wires strung through beads no bigger than a pearl, spaced out at random intervals along each strand. The beads while all grey had different sheens, some more blue or purple, while others were more red or green.
She hadn't bought herself jewelry in years and hadn't received jewelry in just as long. She just didn't wear it mostly, and now she'd been given several very lovely pieces within the span of a few hours.
Yet it was more than just that. It was the fact that this wasn't just something beautiful, but also function, easing a physical pain, a pain that had been inadvertently caused by the gift given. Maggie glanced up at Barnes. Did he realize the symbolism? The significance of his gift? Or was this random act of kindness exactly that, random. It didn't matter. She could see it and would stop being difficult about it, at least for now.
"Thank you, Barnes. It's beautiful and functional. I'll have to find a way to get you back."
"I'd say you really don't have to, but I know you're going to ignore me anyway," Barnes replied.
Maggie smiled, "You're a quick study."
"Wouldn't say that per-say. You're just stubborn. Even I can recognize patterns." He joked sarcastically. Pausing, he glanced over at her, a measure of uncertainty on his face as he tried to figure out if he'd overstepped.
"I am a stubborn ass, I'll grant you, but then again, so are you, James Barnes." She laughed lightly.
"Using first and last names, I see."
At this, Maggie froze. "That's all right, isn't it?"
"You can call me whatever you want, Ramirez. I think you of all people have earned that right."
"Well. That goes for you too. And let me just officially state for the record I'm glad we've moved beyond the point of you calling me ma'am."
"Message received and understood." He replied. "How's your shaved ice?"
"Good." She said, taking a drink of the remaining slush. Maggie paused, mulling over her next words. "Thank you, Barnes, for letting me talk about your sister. I've enjoyed our Tuesday lunches. It's been really nice talking about Becca again. I appreciate it."
Barnes nodded. "Me too, Ramirez."
They both stopped, glancing one another over. Maggie realized that they had returned to the edge of the festival and that the stalls were now only a couple hundred yards away. "Well. Thank you for this, Barnes. It was an adventure." She drank up the rest of the slush, tossing the cup into the recycle bin.
"Thanks for letting me treat you to a birthday snow cone, and a belated gift."
"You strong-armed me on the gift, but I do appreciate it, my hand does feel much better."
"Glad to hear." He finished off his snow cone, likewise throwing the paper cup into the recycle bin.
There was this pause, this moment of hesitation as they both looked each other over as if they were both waiting for the other to say something first.
"I had fun." She said.
"Me too."
"See you on Tuesday for lunch?"
"I look forward to it."
Maggie smiled, "Sounds good. And do let me know if you want or need movie recommendations. Deal?" She extended her hand to him.
"Deal," He nodded. Taking her hand, they shook on it.
His grip was firm, warm, and she couldn't help but notice a little sticky from the shaved ice, but Maggie also couldn't help but notice how cautious it still felt, as though he was afraid he was going to break her.
"Heyi, Cowgirl! Find your ice?" One of her fellow riders called some distance off.
Barnes left go of her hand as if they'd been caught in the act of doing something nefarious or unsavory.
"Yeah, I did." She called back, rolling her eyes.
"They're going to talk." He commented, looking more sheepish than she ever could've imagined possible for a man who'd lived the life he had.
"They were going to talk regardless." Maggie shrugged. "Anyway, I won't detain you any longer. Thanks again for everything. I'll see you on Tuesday."
"See you on Tuesday." He nodded.
Maggie turned and walked back toward the stables, leaving Barnes behind her. It had been a long and exhausting day, but, Maggie would argue, a good one. She paused, glancing over her shoulder at Barnes, who was watching her hasty retreat back to the stables, and a broad smile crossed her face, her right hand going to her left wrist, fiddling with one of the strands of the vibranium bracelet. It had been a good day, and now she had another Tuesday to look forward to in the future.
A/N: I hope you all enjoyed! It was a pleasure to write this chapter I hope it was a pleasure to read. They're so awkward. I hope to hear what you think! Read and Review (Feed the plot bunnies!) Until next time, Happy Reading!
