Chapter Nine

Rocking on my heels, I hauled myself up, examining the contraption they had pinned Bucky between. I knew he didn't have any feeling in the metal arm, despite its life-like behavior, but I grimaced anyway.

"It doesn't hurt."

Bucky was peering up at me, those absurdly blue eyes examining me intently, as though surprised that I cared about his well being. Well of course I was; he hadn't meant to hurt anybody - despite the chaos and bodies he had left behind - and he certainly didn't deserve to be pinned down like an animal.

Zemo on the other hand-

"Doesn't mean you still need it," I noted, glancing at the Captain, who was eyeing us, the slightest of smirks on those pouty lips of his.

In fact… I glanced at Sam, who had a similar grin on his face, looking pointedly between Bucky and I. The bastard even offered me an exaggerated wink, snorting when I flipped him off behind the ex-assassin's back.

Rolling my eyes at the absurdity of it all, I knocked lightly on the rusted metal, questioning exasperatedly, "A li'l help, Steve?"

He pushed away from the wall, ignoring Sam, who pressed a hand to his heart, feigning hurt. "I know I'm not a super soldier, but damn, that's cold, girl."

"Maybe get yourself some super strength and we'll talk," I replied, my tone chipper as I stepped back and allowed Cap to put those massive muscles to good use. He shoved the massive clamp apart, freeing Bucky with ease.

The dark-haired man didn't move for a moment, flexing his metal fingers and almost bracing himself for the attack. He trusted Steve, it seemed, but he was used to running. Used to fighting. It wouldn't be surprising if we had lied to him, called in reinforcements, and taken him straight back to Ross.

His shoulders slowly relaxed and he rose to his feet, rolling the left shoulder to regain some feeling. His arm might've been metal, but that was an awkward position he had been stuck in. I watched with some fascination as the vibranium flexed and shifted, just like his real arm would have, and wondered how HYDRA had managed the technology so long ago. What did it look like, inside that arm? I could allow the glasses to slide down my nose, take a peek inside; it would satisfy my own curiosity and, I'm sure, Tony's.

Bucky froze, his eyes meeting mine, and dropped his arm, shifting his body just so to keep it out of sight. His jaw clenched and I didn't need my gift to read the shame in his eyes before they hit the floor.

I wanted to apologize, to assure him I found it far more interesting than intimidating - I mean, if it's gonna be choking me the life outta me then we got a problem - but before I could, he stared at Steve over my head and queried solemnly, "So what's the plan?"

"Lay low until Tony can clear your name," the captain replied, rubbing his jaw, "we have Zemo in custody and that book- that's evidence enough in my book."

"It doesn't mean I didn't do what they made me."

His tone was raw, pained, and I wanted nothing more than to move to his side, rest a hand on that arm - the arm that had caused so much destruction. Instead, I made my way to Sam's side, allowing the old friends a moment's privacy.

"So where should we take him?" I inquired, my back to the pair, noticing that, despite Steve's acceptance and Sam's willingness to go along with it, neither of them had turned their backs on Bucky. They wanted him in their sights, just in case swift action was needed. They wanted to trust him, and Steve surely did, but I truly felt that the former assassin was harmless to me, at least away from that fucked up journal.

"The compound?" Sam suggested, running a finger along his chin, his eyes never leaving the pair.

Shaking my head, I ran a hand through my thick, chocolate curls, "Don't you think that's the first place they'll look? Ross - the annoying one - has already been there. He'd be sending in every branch of the military in there and there's only so much we can do. They already ratified the Accords, remember? They'll take him first, then let him go later."

"And you don't want that?"

"Get that look off your face, Sam, before I make you," I glared, watching as he struggled to fight his smirk and obey, "I don't want that, no. I wouldn't want anyone taken in before we clear their name. 'Specially not him. I think he's been through enough."

Tilting his head to the side, he allowed himself to nod, a brow lifting as he peered down at me, "What're you suggesting then?"

"Bucky can stay with me."

The speed with which both soldiers' heads turned my way would've snapped their necks if they were lesser men. Bucky gaped, eyes wide, but Steve was already nodding and grinning, "Aurelie, that's a great idea."

"Tell me why that's a great idea?"

I knew Sam wouldn't be sold, and, honestly, probably not even Bucky, but Steve clapped his hands. The four of us winced at the obnoxious echo in the nearly empty warehouse, but he was undeterred.

"You're not an Avenger-," he ignored Sam's 'officially', "your records aren't on file. We know where you live; they don't. Ross has been a-," it was his turn to ignore me, as I supplied 'a dick?', "well, yeah. He's been pestering us about it, but Tony's a professional at deflecting."

"I think the words you were looking for are 'at being an asshole', but they go hand in hand," I agreed, rounding on Bucky, "it's up to you. You can stay here, but," I wrinkled my nose, glancing around in distaste at the mold, dust, broken beer bottles, "my apartment's a lot more comfortable. And I'll bake you cookies. I make 'em from scratch. It's a win-win."

He scratched the back of his neck, the corner of his mouth turning up into that tempting grin once more. "Well," he noted wryly, "who could say no to homemade cookies?"

"Precisely," I laughed, offering him a warm, reassuring smile, "no one'll come looking. And once Tony and Steve have this cleared up, you can leave; we won't keep you locked up. You could disappear if you wanted."

"Maybe I don't want that," he noted softly, so softly, I wouldn't have heard him if I hadn't been facing him. His blue eyes were sorrowful and I found myself reaching a hand toward him, touching his vibranium arm. He jerked away as if burnt, but I held steady, unblinking as I assured him, "Then don't. Stick around; you might like it with us."

His gaze softened, falling to where my fingers rested; his jaw clenched once, twice, before a broad smile filled his face. A slight, huffing laugh escaped him and his brows lifted high on his forehead, disbelief coloring his tone, "You sure those glasses work?"

Laughing, I nodded, dropping my hand and shrugging helplessly, "I'm just a very persuasive girl, what can I say?"

"Alright, I'm gettin' a little nauseous from this love fest," Sam interrupted, stepping between us, casting Bucky a dubious glance, "if you're sure about this, how are we gonna get him to your apartment? There are helicopters and cop cars everywhere, in case you hadn't noticed. And it's not like everyone's not on high alert, lookin' for that face."

"Samuel Wilson," I gaped, feigning offense, fisting my hands on my hips, "are you really doubting me right now? You're gonna drop us off in Queens and Ima just hail a cab."

/

The taxi driver was oblivious to Bucky's identity, thanks to my influence, but that didn't make the super soldier any less anxious. He sat, coiled and ready to dive from the cracked window, his gaze unblinking as he stared at the dark-skinned driver.

The man chatted, blissfully unaware of the threat sitting in the back seat, his Indian accent thick as he described his former flame and cousin that had not so mysteriously disappeared based on his story. He then went on a very detailed rant about his best friend and I found myself laughing.

Bucky's head jerked my way, his mouth a thin, sharp line as he queried, "What?"

"I think we would've been alright," I peered over the cabbie's shoulder, catching sight of a photo pinned to the overhead and snorting. The driver stood side by side with a very familiar red-and-black clad figure, the pair of them doing bunny ears over the other's head. "Apparently he's besties with Deadpool and if you can deal with all the shit he gets into, he prob'ly wouldn't have batted an eyelash at you."

As it was, I hadn't known that, and I would never risk Bucky getting taken in again - I had simply met the driver's gaze and he wouldn't be recognizing the assassin any time soon.

"How many superheroes are in this city?" Bucky questioned dryly, the announcement not easing his nerves in the slightest.

"Way too many," I surmised, patting the cabbie on the shoulder and gesturing toward the building on the corner, "right here, Dopinder. What do I owe you?"

"Oh," he seemed disappointed, pulling the taxi to the curb, "you were such nice passengers; most people just tell me to shut up and drive. I'll charge you the same as my greatest friend in the world; a crisp high-five."

He raised his hand, Bucky eyeing him with a sort of disturbed fascination, and waited for his payment. Glancing briefly at the soldier at my side, I drew my lips between my teeth, brows high on my forehead. Blinking and swallowing a chuckle, I paid the man, slapping my palm against his and thanking him for the ride. He waved cheerfully, completely ignoring Bucky as I slid from the backseat.

Tipping my glasses down my nose, I checked the vicinity, slipping them back over my eyes when I saw nothing of note. Turning to Bucky I rested a hand against the cab's roof, cocking out my hip and jerking my head toward the building. He climbed out slowly, scouring the street, the sidewalk, the buildings around us, sending me a sidelong glance when I assured him in a stage whisper, "Ya know, I can see through walls."

He grimaced, rolling his shoulders, and replied, "I know; I guess I'm just not used to not running. There's always someone around every corner."

"Not here," I promised, leading him to the building and sliding the glasses into my hair. The thick locks held them in place and I reined in my abilities, looking only around the hallways, through the front doors and into the elevators for our best route. A few people were jogging down the steps, but the elevator was clear. A glance a few floors up and I saw not a single soul in the hallway. "Okay, let's go."

He followed me silently, a tense, radiating presence at my back. I wasn't certain if he was to keep me safe, to prepare to run at a moment's notice, or so I couldn't meet his gaze without my glasses on.

All three of them at once, I suppose, I hummed, glancing up into Peter's apartment. A sigh of relief escaped me - he wasn't home. School, no doubt, was keeping him busy, and he wouldn't expect me home anytime soon.

After all, I was still supposed to be in Berlin. Or was it England? How many countries had I been to in the last twelve hours?

The thought exhausted me, so I shrugged it off, leading Bucky out of the elevator, to my floor, and I scanned the apartments lining the hallway. Everyone was either busy with something trivial or at work; not a soul was about to exit their homes and bump into either of us, so I caught his arm and led the way.

"You don't-"

He clamped his mouth shut when I turned to him, pushing the glasses back over my face. He cast me a furtive glance when I prodded him with a look, pursing his lips and continuing quietly, "You don't have to… touch it. The arm. It's not- I know it's-"

"Sargeant," I interrupted him firmly, forcing him to meet my gaze behind my thick purple frames, "I'm not worried about the arm. It doesn't scare me; I was actually thinking about looking into it earlier, as creepy as that sounds."

He let out a sort of chuffing laugh, shaking his head and grinning despite himself, "I wouldn't say creepy. Weird, but not creepy."

Is he teasing me?!

I gaped up at him, a disbelieving laugh escaping me, "Fair enough. Okay, I'm that one on the left."

A quick peek at the Parker residence and I saw May doing yoga - no wonder she looked so goddamn young - oblivious to the goings-on in the hall. Still, I tapped my finger to my lip to shush the already silent soldier, and unlocked the door. Slipping inside, I waited for him to follow me, clicking the lock as quietly as I could manage. When May didn't immediately race over, banging on the door and demanding entrance, I swept my arms wide and spun, smiling widely, "Welcome to Chez Aurelie."

He examined the living room closely, moving to the kitchen island and running his hand along the marble countertop. I watched him, his slow, thorough assessment of the place, and found myself waiting for his reaction with baited breath.

He turned, his eyes warm and his shoulders relaxing, "It's nice."

Unsure why I seemed to care quite so much about his impression of my cozy little home, I beamed, kicking off my shoes and making for the kitchen. Rubbing my hands together, I turned on the coffee maker and began searching the cabinets for flour and chocolate chips. I could've easily just done it with my powers, but I was tired of using them; my head and eyes hurt and I didn't need them.

"Okay, so, I'm thinking chocolate chip and maybe peanut butter, too, cuz why not? Everyone loves peanut butter cookies," I mused, preparing to hoist myself onto the counter to reach the upper cabinets.

"What do you need?"

Arms braced on the countertops, I settled back down from my tip toes, looking up at the former Winter Soldier. He stood beside me, opening the cabinet with his metal fingers, musing, "Can't you just move 'em down with your mind? Instead of climbing onto the counter?"

Mustering as much outrage as I could, I lifted my chin and harrumphed, "We can't all be tall, Bucky. And that would require telekinesis. Mind powers. And since that has nothing to do with my eyes, I don't think I'll be mastering that one any time soon."

The wink I shot him had a chuckle escaping him, and I requested, "Flour, chocolate chips, peanut butter. Baking soda should be up there, too. I think I'm going to need you for all my baking projects, Bucky. The mixer's on top of the fridge, can you-"

He set it down on the island and I offered him a bright grin, shooing him toward the living room, "Alright, I got this covered. The X-Box is set up, all my apps are on there. There are plenty of games too, but if you save over my Assassin's Creed: Valhalla game, I'll have to kill you. I have like 120 hours on that-"

He didn't move, though, peering into the darkened living room, as I grabbed the Irish whiskey from the liquor cabinet. Drinking while baking was a requirement for me, and I needed the caffeine after such a day. Pouring a healthy - or, unhealthy, I supposed, but didn't give a shit - dose into my well-worn, dinosaur-covered mug, I leaned against the counter. Stirring whipped cream into the mug, I watched him for a moment before suggesting, "Or you could help me. But when I bake I drink, and when I drink, I dance, and-"

He picked up the bottle, turned it over in his hands as he examined the label, and knocked back at least three straight shots in one go. He let out a satisfied groan, pouring some into the second, dino-themed mug, "I'm not sure how you're gonna put all those ingredients back by yourself… And I don't mind a little dancing. I used to do it before-"

"Well, then, you know how to work an oven?" I teased, jerking a thumb at it and retrieving the eggs from the fridge. The thought of the silent, solemn soldier spinning carelessly across the dance floor, a handsome toothy grin on his face, flooded my mind. Followed quickly by the thought of my kind of dancing, the current day and age clubs, the grinding. He might not enjoy it, but, as I glanced over at him fiddling with the oven, I decided I certainly would.

Making my way toward the hesitant soldier, I pushed his metal thumb down on the bake button, instructing him, "Up to 350."

Brushing past him, I made for the stereo, finding an oldies station and turning it on low. I knew Peter would be breaking down my door the second he heard me rustling around inside my apartment, so I toted the portable speakers into the kitchen and set them on the counter.

Bucky moved away from the stove, resting a hip against the island and folding his arms across his chest, "What's next, boss?"

"Boss?" I laughed, mixing the dry ingredients first with a wooden spoon, nodding after a moment's consideration, "I'm diggin' the sound of that. I need the butter softened; there's a setting on the microwave."

"I couldn't figure out the oven," he replied flatly, peeling the wrapping off of the butter and putting it into a bowl, "what makes you think I know how to work a microwave?"

"An oven's one thing," I retorted, "I'm sure you had a microwave, wherever you were hiding out?"

"Never had to soften anything before, though," he replied easily, studying the settings before pressing the button and leaning back, "what about the eggs?"

"Hand me the butter?"

He did so when the microwave went off and I poured it into the mix, "Alright, one at a time."

He cracked them with surprising care, offering me a slight grin, "I used to bake sometimes, with my mom and my sister. I know it wasn't the kinda thing boys did then, but I liked it. It was nice. Fun."

Smiling, I turned on the mixer, pouring the vanilla and chocolate chips into the dough, "And the end result is cookies. Not sure how that could be a bad thing."

"It wasn't."

His tone was soft, sad, his metal forefinger trailing absently across the countertop, his mind far, far away.

"How 'bout this?" I queried, scooping out the dough and dropping spoonfuls onto a cookie sheet, "anytime I bake, you come help me? I mean, you're right, I'm short as hell and I'd rather not have to climb on top of stuff, especially when I start drinking."

He blinked the thoughts away and nodded, stealing one of the doughballs despite my exclamation and stuffing it into his mouth, "I think we have a deal, Aurelie."

/

Please please let me know what you think! I hope you all enjoy! Are you guys LOVING Falcon and the Winter Soldier?

DarylDixon'sLover: thank you!

Wickedgrl123: I know! The choices are sooo tough! She and Tony are like my favorite to write together; I gotta do a story for him at some point. And yeah, by the time we get to Infinity War, who knows! I can't wait to get there though!

Cbrstrshp: Yes! The inspiration is flowing! Especially with the Falcon and Winter Soldier show! I hope you enjoyed this one!

SomebodyWhoCares: Uh, yes, I swoon every time I see it! OMG!