I do not own Marvel or Bucky.
I do not own motorcycle.
Blast From The Past
"So, things seem to be going well."
They sure had.
Simon, the mute autistic who really really didn't like change and overstimulation, had adapted surprisingly well to the sudden return of his penny friend and consistency with which he had become reinvolved . . .
"Hey, pal, how's it going?"
. . . in their lives.
He still had his moments, of course.
He screamed, he hit, he helplessly raged.
Amelia still took care of him, still kept to his schedule and unique needs.
Bucky easing himself into their schedule, their lives.
Only seeming to wish to enjoy their presence, their acceptance.
It really was nothing short of a miracle.
Even when Bucky got caught in the cross-fire . . .
"Oh, pal, you got me, hey, it's alright-"
. . . the equanimity with which he had dealt with the situation, the immediacy with which he had forgiven the slight . . .
". . . here for you, okay, don't you worry . . ."
. . . had shown Amelia once again that all men, . . .
"I'm sorry he got you."
"Eh, it happens."
. . . were not created equal.
And they had gone along.
"So, uh, I was wondering how you felt about, uh, taking a day trip with me. One morning while Simon's at school."
And she . . .
"I think we can manage that. Where do you want to go?"
. . . had absolutely . . .
"Where do you want to go? That's the real question."
. . . loved it.
"Oh, um, well . . ."
And him.
Bucky Barnes, no longer Scrambled Egg Brain.
No longer Metal Armed Mental Manic.
Now just . . . Bucky.
Not the Bucky he had been before the war.
According to him.
But since Amelia hadn't known the Before Bucky, had fallen in love with the Fugitive, Trash Dumpster Fire Cinnamon Roll Bucky, and now Sans Assassination Trigger Issues Bucky, she didn't mind.
She accepted him.
As he was.
Now.
Especially now.
Very much especially now.
Because . . .
Oh my sweet Christmas-
. . . he was standing right there.
-Bucky, baby-
Right on the warm, sunny Romanian side street day.
And he was hotttt.
James Buchanan Barnes.
Tall and muscled.
And dark, newly short hair . . .
"You're cutting it?"
"Yeah. Simon got me pretty good yesterday. I figured, why not?"
"I like it."
"Better than long?"
"I like the long. I like this. I like you."
"Oh, do you, do you?"
"Yeah. I do."
"Well, I like you too."
"Really? Why don't you come over here and show me how much you like me?"
"Yes, ma'am."
. . . that put his long, lean neck . . .
Mmm, hello, Nurse!
. . . on full display.
Bucky Barnes.
Clothed in a black leather jacket.
Black jeans. Hammered silver belt buckle.
Black boots.
And a waspish smile.
"Hey, ready for a ri-"
Just for her.
Her.
Amelia Watson.
Auburn wavy hair to her shoulders.
Red knee length shirt dress, small white polka dots.
Black calf boots, her only pair.
Overall, a little funky and a little flirty.
"Wow, Amelia, you look . . . you look . . . amazing."
And not quite so daring for a motorcycle cycle as one might think.
"I mean, you always look amazing but . . . wow."
She did have black short shorts on underneath the dress.
I'm only so much a daredevil.
"Thanks, you look pretty good yourself."
She shrugged into the leather jacket she had dug out from under her bed.
Let's see what he thinks of this.
And watched the World's Hottest Super Soldier attempt to close his hanging mouth . . .
Me thinks he likes.
. . . as she smiled, secret and satisfied.
"I, uh, I got us some helmets," he seemed to just manage to say.
And handing one to her, put his on as Amelia held hers in her hands.
It was plain black and sturdy.
Just like the motorcycle.
She hadn't been riding since Jack and the sight of bike and her so close to it, made the world fade away for a moment.
"Hey, you okay?"
Until the man with the sky in his eyes . . .
"Yeah, sorry, got lost there for a minute."
. . . brought her . . .
"Uh-oh, not turning into me now, are you?"
" . . . back to him.
She managed to smile.
"No. I'm fine."
And he returned it.
"Here. Let me help you."
His fingers were gentle, careful.
Helmet secured by the man without an entire plan, Amelia gazing up, Bucky gazing down, . . .
"Oh my god, I can't believe it."
. . . he smiled fondly, . . .
"You just got even cuter. And sexier."
. . . kissed the tip of her nose . . .
"I don't know how you do it."
. . . turned to hop on the bike . . .
"It's one of my many talents."
. . . as Amelia glowed with cheeky wit.
Calling upon years past rusty hog-riding experience, . . .
"Ready to ride, doll?"
"Never more ready."
. . . she carefully positioned herself on the bike.
Wrapped her arms around his waist . . .
Mmm, Bucky . . .
. . . and settled herself in for . . .
"Alright. Here we go."
. . . a nice long ride.
Hello!
No, since you ask, this has nothing to do with actual Falcon/Winter Soldier show or Infinity War or Endgame.
It has everything to do with me missing the happi(er), more healed Bucky and the OC who helped him to be so.
It also has to do with me watching Falcon and the Winter Soldier and Sebastian Stan in that getup. ;)
Anyway, everybody appreciates feedback. Leave a review if you like.