Disclaimer: The characters depicted in this story belong to Marvel and not to me; except for Buzz. She's mine. All fluff. One swear word. Based on the song "Stand By Me" covered by Skylar Grey.
New recruits were a dime a dozen at the compound; Bucky was used to people coming and going, and he didn't trust new people. It was the main reason he had a vetting process, as it were, for the newbies. They'd show up and he'd let everyone else get to know them, get their first impressions, and then after a few months, if they survived that long, he'd start to make nice.
It would start with making his signature jet-fuel coffee for breakfast and flipping his knife at the table. Then it would be offering to train with them and not going easy. He figured if they could handle what he had to offer they just might make it as an Avenger.
After that, if he deemed them worthy enough, he'd tell them some of his stories—the ones he could get through. That's usually when they bailed on him, and Bucky would go hang out with Steve, Sam, or Natasha.
They'd give him a hard time about it, but he generally didn't care; he didn't like Sam in the beginning, and now they were practically best friends … sort of. Plus, he kinda liked how his reputation, not only as the Winter Soldier but as this hardass at the compound, had preceded him. Well, until she showed up. Apparently, nobody filled her in on what to expect from the Tin Man.
"I thought we weren't getting a new class," Bucky points out as everyone clears out of the conference room to meet the Quinjet pulling in for a landing in the docking bay.
"It's not a class, man," Sam says as he leads the way out of the room and down the hall. "Just one newbie."
The two pull up the rear of the group in the hangar, and Steve turns around to address everyone one more time.
"Look, it goes without saying, but this new agent could potentially be a vital member of the team." He sweeps a look across everyone and stops when he reaches Bucky. "Make sure they feel welcome and safe. They're here alone, so that has to add to whatever anxiety and intimidation they might be feeling."
"Why are you looking at me?" Bucky scoffs. "Why is he looking at me?"
He and Sam start nudging each other until a red-eyed Wanda whips around and tells them to knock it off.
When the Quinjet finally lands, Steve begins to step forward to greet the newest potential member, but before he can take more than two steps forward, the ramp lowers, and this tiny ball of hair, compact muscle, curves, and pure energy comes bounding out.
The duffle is as big as she is but she flings it over her shoulder with a practiced dexterity and all but runs to Steve with an outstretched arm.
"Welcome to the Avengers compound. I'm Steve—"
"You're Steve Rogers. Captain America. Captain Rogers." She laughs and the sounds fills the large hangar for such a small body. "I'm sorry. Do we shake or should I salute?"
Steve tries to calm her down, but the excitement is too much.
"She reminds me of Tic Tac," Sam mutters as Steve introduces her to everyone, and she either hugs them or tries to hide her squeals.
Bucky sniffs dismissively and leaves before Steve can get her closer to him for an introduction. He doesn't like fans.
Two weeks later, she's still here, and apparently, everyone adores her.
She's already adopted a nickname from the team—Buzz—because she's always hyper and full of energy.
And everyone was trying to get Bucky to relent on his vetting.
"Just talk to her."
"She's great."
"You two would really get along."
"She doesn't even hate you for not talking to her for two weeks!"
The last one was Sam as they were training together in the gym.
"If she's so great, how come she hasn't just come to talk to me?" Bucky stops punching the bag and looks at Sam for an answer.
Sam draws back and stares at Bucky like he just asked him some complicated trigonometry problem. "Are you for real? You got a mean mug, and you haven't said a word to the poor girl. She's just staying out of your way because she thinks that's what you want."
Bucky considers this for a moment and shrugs. "She's not wrong. I'd love my life more if I didn't have to put up with you."
"Mhmm, you remember that when Steve retires for real and you're stuck with me." Sam resumes his training but smiles as Bucky wanders off toward the locker room.
"She made that lasagna you ate the hell out of the other night," Sam hollers after his retreating form. "Just sayin', man."
He chuckles as Bucky flips him off over his shoulder with the black metal arm gleaming.
The next morning, Bucky finds her in the kitchen at some hour that borders on ungodly, even for him.
Buzz sends him a nod when she hears him shuffle in and continues to chop the mountain of vegetables in front of her.
"Coffee?" Bucky mutters the question as he grabs the carafe from the machine and begins to set it up.
"Sure." She sets the knife down and stares at his back as he busies himself. "I know you prefer your space, but I'm—"
"Buzz, right?" Bucky turns and offers, well, not a smile but one side of his mouth is turned up so he doesn't look like he's grimacing. "That's what they call you, right?"
She giggles and shrugs. "Yeah, I never really had a group of friends to give me a nickname before, so I like it."
Bucky hums in response and pulls two mugs down from the cabinet and leans against the counter. "You making breakfast?"
She stops mid-chop and looks back up. "Oh, no. This is all going in the crockpot for dinner. We're doing that simulation today, remember?"
Bucky nods as the coffeemaker beeps to signal the end of the brew.
"I could make breakfast though." She offers a wide, bright smile. "What do you like?"
He pours two cups of coffee. "French toast. How do you take your coffee?"
"Oh, just black, thanks. I could make French toast. Do you think we have enough eggs and bread?" She takes a small sip of the steaming black liquid, and Bucky is disappointed when she doesn't gag or make a face at how strong it is.
"I'm sure we do." He plops down on a stool and watches as she continues to chop vegetables and rambles on about the events planned for later in the day.
"You do know that it's just glorified 'Capture the Flag'?" Bucky grins as she takes a big gulp of her coffee, but she doesn't bat an eye.
"I know, but I like the team-building aspect of it." She drops everything into separate containers for later and cleans up. "So, tell me about you."
Bucky hems and haws for a few minutes before Steve walks into the kitchen bleary-eyed and groping for the coffee pot.
When he finally manages to pour a cup and take a gulp, he turns and gives Bucky the evil eye.
"You made this poor excuse for jet fuel, didn't you?" Steve grabs the carafe and pours it down the sink and starts to make a fresh pot. "How many times have I asked you not to make it that strong? It's disgusting."
Bucky shrugs and gestures to the other kitchen occupant. "She didn't have any complaints."
"You drank that crude oil?"
"It was a little strong, but it was fine." She shrugs and takes another drink from her mug as if to prove a point. "Sometimes, you just get used to doing something one way that it's hard to break the habit."
Bucky and Steve just stare at her as she polishes off her coffee and rinses her cup in the sink.
"I'm going to make French toast for everyone, but I'm going to go change first." She moves to leave, and then turns back around. "Thanks for the coffee and conversation."
Two hours later, as everyone is devouring the fried bread and the crispy bacon that Buzz made to go with it, Bucky flips his knife at his side by his thigh. Wanda and Nat are always on him for doing it over the table because that's where the food was, and they didn't believe him when he said he cleaned it every day.
Naturally, the only free seat is, of course, directly across from Bucky, and Buzz slips into the chair and grins as he continues to flip the knife in the air.
"How's the French toast?" Buzz asks with a gesture of her fork toward Bucky's plate.
He nods and forks up another bite. "Good."
Halfway through her own plate and as everyone else is starting to clean up, she leans forward slightly and drops her voice.
"Could you teach me how to do that?" Her eyes are fixated on the six and a half-inch blade dancing in his hands. "I can already juggle. Is it any harder than that?"
Bucky bristles a little. "I can't even juggle, so it might be easier for you." Her eyes flick up to his—bright, shining, and excited. "If I were interested in teaching you."
With that, he stands and grabs his plate and passes it off to Sam, who is posted up at the sink.
"You could at least rinse it." But he's met with Bucky's retreating form and his middle finger popping up over his shoulder.
Hours later, Buzz is nowhere to be found. The two giant crockpots are humming on the kitchen counter, and everyone has hit the showers after the simulation and are resting, working, or whatever.
Bucky seems to be the only one who's restless, and he's been wandering the floors of the compound. He overheard a conversation between Wanda and Sam about how Buzz seemed out of sorts as the simulation was winding down, and he feels a little guilty.
Not that he should.
They had been the only two left on their team, and her strategy was worthless. She willingly agreed to his tactic, and they had executed a beautiful plan and won the day. If she were upset that they hadn't used her idea, then she should have fought harder for it.
He continues to amble about and makes his way to the gym. It's become a place of solace and solitude, depending entirely on his mood.
Bucky knew none of his teammates would be in here after the afternoon of training they'd just endured, but he could handle some more.
The sight of the tiny woman crouched in the middle of a mat, trying to wrap her hand with a bandage, stops him dead in his tracks. He can see the bright red spots on the white cotton and hear the soft whimpers even from thirty feet away.
As he moves swiftly across the room, her head whips up at the smallest sound, and she jumps up and fumbles with her supplies.
"Bucky, what are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing. Did you get hurt this afternoon?" Pulling his hands from his pockets, he takes hers in his own, and when she winces, he deliberately tries to be gentler.
"Not during the simulation, no." Buzz pulls her hand away and smiles feebly. "I'm fine. Really."
Skeptically, he looks down into her eyes and smirks. "So fine you need to wrap it up? Look, you don't want to tell me? That's fine. But, you're right-handed, so it's gonna be harder to do it with the left. Let me help you."
He pulls her over to a weight bench and pushes her down and straddles the padded seat next to her.
"You didn't do too badly on the left hand, but I'm gonna fix it, okay?" Bucky turns her right hand over and examines the cuts. Tiny, thin marks, bleeding just enough to be annoying but not enough to warrant stitches or immediate medical care.
"Buzz … what were you doing?" Bucky's pretty sure he knows the answer but wants to give her a chance.
"I … Look, it's not like I was doing it to impress you or anything." She huffs and averts her eyes, looking anywhere and everywhere but at Bucky. "I was trying to teach myself how to juggle a knife."
She sighs and finally meets his eyes, hers shining with tears and his with mischief.
"Just couldn't take no for an answer, huh?" He teases as he begins to wrap her right hand, gently but firmly. "I would have taught you. Maybe."
When he finishes the right and reaches for the left, she asks the one question that's been plaguing her. "Are you like this with everyone, or do you really just not like me?"
It's Bucky's turn to sigh as he unwraps her left hand and pauses to look at her. "It's hard. We get a lot of people in and out of here. I don't make friends easily, and sometimes, I …" He trails off, not knowing which words are the right ones.
"Sometimes, it's easier to just be alone? It's just easier not to bother?" She ducks her head under his face and sticks out her tongue to make him smile, and he lifts his head.
"Yeah, I guess." He continues to wrap her hand and sits up straight on the bench. "Everybody here knows about my past and my hang-ups."
"Why bother letting someone new in?" She takes her hand away and flexes her fingers a few times. "Thanks for this. I'll be more careful next time." She stands up and stretches a little. "I'll wash the cuts later. Do you think they'll need to be rewrapped?"
Bucky smiles up to her from his seat on the bench. "I'll take a look at them after dinner."
She begins to walk away but stops and turns back to smile at him. "You know, sometimes, it's harder to break the habit than to stick with it." Buzz shrugs and her smile grows wider. "Maybe it's time to learn to make better coffee and new friends."
When she turns to leave again, Bucky starts to laugh. It's a deep, rumbling belly laugh, and Bucky is gasping and clutching his sides. "I thought you liked my coffee!"
"Oh, gosh, no! It was horrible!" Buzz is now laughing with him and shaking her head. "I just didn't want to hurt your feelings since you were finally speaking to me." She blushes a little, and Bucky stands up and throws an arm around her shoulder.
"All right, truce. New coffee, new friends."
"And teaching your new friend your knife tricks?" Buzz asks from under his bulky form as they walk out of the gym.
"Sure. After dinner."
Buzz and Bucky soon become fast friends and partners in crime. Where you would find one, the other was sure to be nearby. Often enough, you could find them working together in the gym—Bucky teaching her something new—or in the kitchen where Buzz was using Bucky as a stand-in sous chef.
The most interesting bit of this newfound friendship was the almost ferocious way Buzz defended Bucky.
It seemed like it didn't matter what the situation might be, but if she felt that Bucky was getting the short end of the stick, she was there to take his side and safeguard her friend. There were times when he would offer up a solution to a problem, and while it wouldn't be the most popular, it was always the most effective.
"I understand that it's probably going to cost millions of dollars in damage, but there is zero potential for lives lost. Doesn't that count for something? Steve, tell Bucky that it counts for something."
She would plead in team meetings to revisit ideas and plans, only to be shot down along with him. Where his resolve caused him to be gun-shy, she only remained optimistic.
"They'll realize how right you are," she'd whisper to him as they sat back in their chairs and continued listening to Steve drone on.
Bucky especially liked that she wanted to come to his aid when the team ganged up on him. Everyone, including Bucky, had assured her that it was just teasing, and it mostly was.
But there was something about her calling him Tin Man and Sam calling him a baked potato that felt different and wrong to her. She looked ridiculous squaring off against almost everyone else on the team as even Wanda and Natasha stood a few inches taller than her.
Sam had been on some kick lately about Bucky having hair perfect for shampoo commercials. It had started pretty innocently actually. Buzz had begged Bucky to let her practice a fishtail braid on him, and he had begrudgingly agreed.
She hadn't mastered the braid, but she had knotted his hair, and that's how Sam found them—Buzz on the back of the couch in the entertainment room, and Bucky sitting on the cushion between her legs with her finger combing his dark brown locks and giving him a scalp massage.
"You look weak, Barnes." Sam is grinning from ear to ear when he comes upon the two of them. If he didn't know any better, he'd swear they look like a couple enjoying a tender moment alone.
"At least, he's got a full head of hair, Wilson. I'm pretty sure I saw a patch forming when I had you pinned yesterday." Buzz cocks an eyebrow at Sam in defiance, but Bucky maneuvers out from under her hands.
Sam throws his hands up to his head. "Girl, don't you know black don't crack?" He's laughing, but Buzz can see his fingers sweeping over his scalp.
She jumps off the couch and pats Sam on the arm. "You might not crack, honey, but you might want to invest in some Rogaine." When she struts out of the room, Bucky stares after, and Sam gives a low whistle.
"She's got it bad for you," Sam states as he takes a seat next to Bucky and snatches up the remote to start his routine of surfing through channels.
"Excuse me?" Bucky doesn't bother to look at his friend and continues to stare straight ahead.
Sam tosses the remote back onto the coffee table and turns to look at the former assassin turned Avenger.
"Are you blind? I know someone else has pointed it out to you." Sam stares at Bucky until he finally looks up at him. "Wanda has some strong opinions on the matter."
"She hasn't been digging around where she shouldn't, has she?" Bucky knows he sounds defensive, but that would be a huge invasion of Buzz's privacy.
Snorting, Sam points a finger in Bucky's face. "You wanna rethink that? She's a sweet girl, and you know she'd never do that."
Bucky throws his hands up in surrender and crosses them over his chest when Sam lowers his finger.
"She's just a kid," he mutters and slumps into the cushions.
"She's not. You know she's not." Sam turns back to the TV. "And she's gonna be an Avenger, so you better figure that out."
Getting up and beginning to pace, he stops and looks at Sam. "When?"
"I figure soon. She's lasted the longest with us." Sam leans forward and clasps his hands together. "You know she's good. We need her here."
Neither man says anything for a few minutes until Sam breaks the silence.
"She's always got your back, on and off the field, as it were." He leans back and crosses his arms. "She's a great partner, and I bet that's true in her personal life too. You could do worse."
Bucky just stands there for another minute, absorbing everything Sam has said before turning without a word and heading out of the room.
"Of course, she could do way better!" Sam shouts and starts laughing as a middle finger pops around the doorframe and wiggles at him.
Three days later and two sleepless nights on Bucky's part, Buzz is appointed as the newest Avenger during the morning meeting. It's with minimal fanfare, but Steve did make an admirable speech about her capabilities, her seemingly flawless ability to blend with the already well-established team, and Buzz's overall exuberance.
"In the three months that you've been with us, you've felt like one of us from day one. Each one of us trusts you and would count ourselves lucky to have you on point for any mission we're on. You've got all of our backs, and we'll proudly stand by you. Welcome, officially, to the team."
Buzz had blushed as everyone had clapped and congratulated her. She was passed around as plans were made for later in the evening, and it was declared that they would go out into the world and celebrate.
When she landed in front of Bucky and he offered her a smile, she leaped into his arms and hugged him close. "Thank you for everything. Thank you for being my friend." She pressed a kiss to his cheek and was pulled away before he could respond.
As Natasha pulls her from the room, Buzz peeks over her shoulder, and the blush across her cheeks is evident from across the room. When she locks eyes with Bucky, he feels something in the pit of his stomach and wants her back within his reach.
"Told you, man," Sam says as he drops an arm over Bucky's shoulders, and Wanda comes up on the other side.
"Me too." Wanda leans her head on Bucky's shoulder and smiles. "She really fits in here, don't you think?"
He can't speak, but both Sam and Wanda push him toward the door and cross their fingers that he'll finally make his move, but Buzz is nowhere to be seen when Bucky reaches the hall.
Later that night after dinner and a few drinks, the group makes its way to a dive bar that Natasha scoped out.
"Look, I know it's not everyone's thing, but Buzz loves karaoke, so we're here," Natasha scolded everyone as if they were children before they walked inside. "And, no, you don't have to sing if you don't want to."
Buzz is riding on Sam's back and lets out a whoop as they enter, causing the dozen or so patrons all to look their way.
"It's my birthday!" Buzz screams from Sam's back, and the people in the bar cheer good-naturedly, and the bartender comes down to the end where the group is huddled and begins to take their orders.
Bottles of beer, shots of whiskey and vodka, and one very large margarita are distributed, and they all spread out over a couple tables. Steve grabs a songbook, knowing full well that Nat will goad him into singing at some point, so he better start narrowing down his choices.
Two beers later while Wanda and Sam sing a horribly off-key rendition of some song from Grease, Bucky sidles over to Buzz and nudges her gently in the ribs.
"Okay, when you gettin' up there?" Bucky jerks his chin toward the stage, and Buzz blushes and ducks her head.
"I dunno, Buck." She sighs and props her head on the table, cheek in hand. "Can I be super honest for a second? I really wanted to just have a quiet night with … well, with you."
She hiccups, and when Bucky doesn't respond, she fills the silence. "I thought, well, I thought maybe you would ask … You know what. Never mind. You're a great friend, Bucky."
"So are you. Better than Steve sometimes." Bucky cups her free cheek, and she leans into his hand. "You've always got my back."
"I've got a song for you, Bucky Barnes."
She makes her way up to the booth and fills out a little paper and slips it to the guy running the sound. He nods, and Buzz runs back to the bar and grabs a glass of water from the bartender.
"I think she was hoping I was gonna ask her out," Bucky says as Steve takes her vacant chair.
"Don't you want to?"
Her name is called over the speakers, and the group hollers and claps for her as she climbs up on the stage. "Thanks. I've had a few tonight, so forgive me."
A soft, melodic guitar begins to play, and Buzz perches on a stool that's been left on the tiny stage.
When the night has come
And the land is dark
And the moon is the only light we'll see
No, I won't be afraid, no I won't be afraid
Just as long as you stand, stand by me
So darlin', darlin', stand by me
Oh stand by me
Oh stand
Stand by me, stand by me
Like everything else about her, Buzz's voice doesn't match her body—strong and vibrant, just like her. She's swaying lightly on the stool with her eyes closed, and when she opens them on the chorus, her gaze locks with Bucky, and he feels that same clawing in his stomach from earlier.
He leaves Steve's side and makes his way closer to the stage and sits at an empty table.
If the sky that we look upon
Should tumble and fall
Or the mountains should crumble to the sea
I won't cry, I won't cry, no I won't shed a tear
Just as long as you stand, stand by me
So darlin', darlin', stand by me,
Oh stand by me
Oh stand now
Stand by me
This woman, who had infiltrated his life within the walls of the compound, had become his friend and his teammate. She was one of the purest and sweetest souls he'd ever had the pleasure to know, and she … liked him? She put up with him, that was for certain, but there had always been something more, hadn't there?
Whenever you're in trouble won't you stand by me
Oh stand by me
Oh stand now
Stand by me
Stand by me
As the music fades and the small crowd cheers, Buzz trips over a wire coming off the stage and practically falls into Bucky's arms. When she looks up at him, tears in her wide eyes and trembling lips, he knows.
"You just want someone to watch your back, huh? Someone to catch you when you fall?" Bucky pulls her out the side exit of the bar, and when she pulls away from him he frowns. "I thought … I thought I understood what you were trying to say."
He hears the sniffle and sees the tears as they fall down her cheeks and tips her chin up.
"You've always been there for me, even when I didn't deserve it. Will you let me be there for you now?" Bucky's eyes dance across hers in question.
All the time they've spent together, the talks and simple quiet time they've enjoyed—cooking and movie nights. Training sessions in the gym and Buzz teaching him to juggle.
There were dark times too. He told her some of his worst memories that still stick with him, and where almost everyone had run, instead, she took his hand and offered support. He's told her about how he felt like an imposter in his own skin, how he can still hear his own screams mixed with those of the people he was sent after.
Bucky thinks to just last month when Buzz took him out to see a meteor shower because he'd never seen one. He hated it, so isolated out in the forest and vulnerable lying down in the bed of the truck they borrowed. The panic attack crept in slowly, and he didn't have time to catch it, but Buzz did. She simply took his cool metal hand in her warm flesh one and began pointing out constellations until the stars fell across the sky.
There had been too many times to count when he had pushed and pulled at her. All he needed to do was open his eyes and see that Sam had been right.
Dammit.
She was the perfect partner, and hopefully, she'd give him the chance to prove he could be too.
"I'll get on that stage and sing for you if I have to." Bucky cracks a smile, and she lets out a small giggle. "It'll be terrible, but I would do it for you."
"As much as I'd love to see that, I don't think it's necessary." Buzz reaches up and wraps her arms around Bucky's neck and begins to sway with him. "If you listen, someone is playing our song."
As Bucky wraps his hands around her waist, the dulcet tones of Ben E. King were coming through the jukebox, imploring his own darling to stand by him.
"So, is this our song now?" Bucky says as he sways her gently in the cool night air.
"Yeah, but you better kiss me to seal the deal." She licks her lips and smiles. "It might not hurt if you called me 'darling' once in a while too."
With a laugh, Bucky cranes his head down to press a kiss to her lips. When Buzz pushes up on her toes to meet him halfway, the feeling that had been clawing at Bucky is finally alleviated. He pulls her close enough to feel her heartbeat in tandem with his own as her tongue pleads for entrance and playfully contends with his own.
When they pull away and gaze into each other's eyes, they're interrupted by a smattering of applause.
"You won me fifty bucks, Barnes," Sam says as Steve rolls his eyes and walks back into the bar. "C'mon back in. This round's on me."
With her red face buried in the front of Bucky's shirt, Buzz tells Sam to go to hell. "We'll be there in a few minutes," Bucky tells Sam with a laugh.
Hours later when the minimal touching and stolen kisses just aren't cutting it, Bucky leans over to Buzz. "You ready to get out of here?"
She nods, and when she moves to stand and wobbles, Bucky throws her over his shoulder and begins to cart her to the door.
The group is laughing and catcalling as Bucky walks them away.
"You two be safe now!" Sam calls just as Bucky is about to push the door open and get the two of them outside. Just before he makes it through the door, Buzz throws up her middle finger to flip off Sam, and then slaps Bucky on his ass as he carries her off into the night.