Note:If you haven't read chapter three (also posted today), please go back before reading this one. Enjoy.
You pull off your mask as you fall into your seat on the quinjet, greedily sucking in the fresh air. Your entire body feels like jello and the smell of burnt fabric feels like it's permanently sealed itself to the inside of your nose having caught your sleeve on fire during the mission. Since your mission had been in the Siberian wilderness, you had been given permission to use your abilities and Tony had given you his last minute prototype suit which had proven to be incredibly flammable. You supposed you were lucky that you had managed to stifle the flames before the entire thing had caught fire.
This had been your third mission so although your body was starting to adapt to the rigorous demands that being part of the Avengers required, it still took its toll.
"Your lucky your old mask didn't cover your nose and mouth," You tell Steve, "These things have no ventilation."
"At least it's only temporary," Steve smiles, "Tony's working on getting everything settled."
"I know, I'm definitely not complaining," You tell him, leaning your head back, "Well, just a little."
"You gonna make it sleepyhead?" Sam jokes as he walks past you towards the cockpit; you can't think of a witty response so you just flip him the bird.
Bucky sprawls across the seats next to you, his head almost touching your thigh. "I'd catch some shut eye if I was you doll, we got a long way back."
You groan as you wake up, you had slid sideways as you slept so you were slumped sideways half on top of Bucky's sleeping form. You sit up as gingerly as possible trying not to rouse the sleeping man next to you.
"Tryin' to keep me warm doll?" Bucky grins as he also sits up. So much for that.
"Trying to smother you in your sleep. Guess it didn't work."
"Oh yeah? Back in my day that's what we called cuddling."
"Huh, well in my day we call comments like that workplace sexual harassment." From the cockpit you can hear Sam's muffled laughter. The plane begins its descent and you stretch happily.
After you change out of your half melted proto-suit, you head down to the kitchen. The rest of the team would be waking soon, so you start on breakfast. If anyone had told you a year ago that you'd be sliding across the Avenger's kitchen floor in your socks like Tom Cruise in Risky Business using a spatula as a microphone as you sing and dance to your favorite song you would've laughed in their face. But, life it funny like that sometimes, and so here you were.
"Thought you all would be passed out after your mission," You twirl around, mouthing the lyrics to the song as you point your spatula at Bruce who laughs at your antics.
"I slept on the plane," You say before popping the bacon in the oven. With that done you start on the pancakes. Before long Natasha walks in, grabbing a cup of the freshly brewed coffee you had made.
"Christ (Y/n) you're a saint," She sits at the table with Bruce. When the first round of pancakes comes up you pile them onto two plates and place them in front of them.
"Thank you (Y/n)," Bruce smiles.
Wanda comes in next, and gladly takes the plate you offer her. "Thanks! It smells amazing."
Bucky comes in next, freshly showered with a grin on his handsome face as he leans against the counter watching you make him a plate. "Don't know what we did before you came around doll."
"Why do you have to say things like that man?" You ask as you hand over the plate, "Almost makes me feel bad about spitting in your food." Sam high fives you on the way to the coffee pot for your remark while Bucky pops a piece of the bacon into his mouth, eyes crinkling at the corners. You pile the leftover eggs and toast onto your own plate and lean against the counter next to Bucky.
"Steve sleeping?" You ask Bucky, who nods. "I could've flown for awhile," You tell him with a frown, "So he could've got some sleep on the way."
"I told him I could take over," Sam agrees, "You know how he is. Too caring for his own good."
"Where's Vis and Tony-Oh, don't tell me they're down in that lab still."
"They've been at it all night," Wanda smiles, "You know how Tony is, he can't stand there being a problem he can't solve."
"Of course they have," You roll your eyes, "It's completely unnecessary. I really don't need to be able to become a giant fireball. There is literally no situation that would call for that. He's just being petty at this point."
"Didn't you say something about fighting naked at some point? Maybe we should revisit that." You give Bucky a deadpan look and throw the crust of your toast at him. Boys.
"Want me to run some food down for Tony?" Wanda offers and you shake your head.
"Nah, I'll head down there. I'm sure he'll be looking for me at some point anyways. Thanks though." You nudge Bucky out of the way to pour a cup of coffee and grab the last stack of pancakes.
Tony and Vision were looking at a schematic when you quietly slipped in.
"Alright, test thirty-two-Alpha-four," Tony runs his fingers through his hair as fire is blasted out of a tank onto a piece of fabric held in place by four metal arms. You had been approaching, but quickly jump back as the fabric almost seems to explode, shooting napalmish globs everywhere. You let out a giggle as one of Tony's robots sprays out the small fires.
"I'd say back to the drawing board on that one," You say as Tony and Vision turn towards you. "But first, breakfast. Wanda says you've been down here all night." You set the plate and coffee down, and Tony grabs the latter eagerly.
"So, my last usable prototype turned out to be completely resistant to standard fire, while being incredibly un-resistant to your fire," Tony sets down the cup after you explain what had happened on the mission and waves his hand at you, "Come on do some tricks, I want Vision to scan your fire and see what the issue is."
"Tony, really, my suit-not the last one-my normal one is absolutely fine. I don't need to be fireproof."
"Humor me."
You roll your eyes. "Fine, but only if you eat while Vis does the scans. Deal?"
"Yes mom," Tony huffs, folding one of the pancakes like a taco and taking a bite. Satisfied, you conjure up the fire letting it burn on your hands while Vision watches intently, breaking down the composition of the flames.
"A little more, please," Vision says politely, and you let the flames engulf your arms up to your elbows, extending your arms so you didn't scorch your shirt. After a few more seconds Vision blinks and nods, and you let the flames dissipate.
"The composition appears to be fairly normal; nitrogen, oxygen, carbon dioxide, water vapor," Vision frowns, "However, there are trace amounts of (Y/n)'s DNA within the flames."
Tony snaps, "Well that's got to be it. Until prototype six-alpha-seven, we had no reason to consider that there was anything different about (Y/n)'s fire as opposed to any other fire. Step over here (Y/n), I want to run a few more tests. We should've done this the moment you got here." You trail after him as he sets up an instrument. In the center of the room Tony had fixed some kind of temperature gage atop a metal pole. On the wall behind it a digital display showed the ambient temperature of the room.
"Hottest fire you can, right here at this target."
"Tony," You whine, "Come on, this is silly." He raises his eyebrows and you sigh before sending a string of fire at the spot he had pointed out. You watch as a set of numbers on the digital display above it begin to climb. From 500˚ to 800˚, you felt the sweat bead on your brow as you concentrated until the flames were almost white, the numbers on the screen flashed 2640˚ before the display cut out and you released the flames; the temperature gage had melted into a pool of bubbling steel that was starting to melt the metal pole on which is sat.
"Right…" Tony says slowly, "So a bit hotter than your average campfire then."
"A bit," You reply a little faintly, "Holy shit."
"I need some of your blood."
"What?" You ask sharply, turning away from the now cooling metal to look at Tony.
"You think something within her DNA will allow you to create a fabric that is resistant to the fire she creates?" Vision asks, "I suppose other than the extreme temperatures that is the only true difference."
"Exactly." Tony crosses the room while you watch him, dumbfounded and rummages through a box before he pulls out a plastic encased syringe.
"I'd really rather you didn't," You frown, taking a step back from him, "Tony," Your back hits the wall and you gulp.
"Don't tell me you're afraid of needles," Tony grins, "I'll be gentle, you won't even feel it."
"Really, Tony, this isn't necessary, I really don't need a fireproof suit," The words fly from your lips, "I'll carry around a fire extinguisher, it's fine-"
You walk out of his lab scratching at the pink bandaid he had placed on your hand after drawing the blood. You pass Bucky walking out of the lounge and loop your arm through his. "Let's get out of here."
"Where do you want to go?"
"I've never been to the city," You offer, "Bet with you driving we could make it there in record time." A smile slowly spreads across his handsome face.
"Now I know you're trying to butter me up doll, you never let me drive."
"Only because I enjoy living," You tease, "But just this once I'm willing to give up the keys." You follow him to the garage, and an idea strikes you as he climbs aboard his motorcycle. "Let's go to Brooklyn," You tell him, "I want to see where you and Steve grew up." He turns to look at you as you climb on behind him, and his eyes seem brighter as he shoots you a reckless grin. You wrap your arms around him as he hits the gas, settling your face between his shoulder blades as he drives far too fast out of the compound.
You make it into the city in what you're sure is record time, reaching Brooklyn just as the sun begins to dip low on the horizon. Bucky parks the bike in a safe, but probably not legal location and you climb off, stretching. Bucy takes you around Brooklyn, from the house that he grew up in with his three siblings to the spot where him and Steve had cemented their longstanding friendship as children. Now the two of you sit side by side atop the roof of a highrise, your feet dangling down over the city while the two of you eat hotdogs from a street vendor.
"These are good," You tell Bucky through a mouthful of your dinner and he gives you a lazy smile, his own mouth full.
"Brooklyn's finest," he says after he swallows. You have a clear view of the Manhattan skyline from where you sit and your eyes drink up the view; the city lights remind you of the little slice of home you had left behind in Chicago.
"I've spent a lot of time in small towns, but I always end up back in the city," You tell Bucky wistfully.
"There is somethin' about it," he agrees, "You move around a lot as a kid?"
"Grew up in my mom's childhood home in Indiana-New Harmony-small town, you know? But after I was on my own I traveled a lot, town to town, state to state. Spend a year here, six months there just working odd jobs. I was bartending in Chicago when everything happened with the robbery," You shrug, "I miss my apartment there sometimes, Chicago felt more like most like home to me."
"How long were you on your own?"
"Ten years or so," Bucky looks at you shrewdly, "What?"
"You don't look that old."
You laugh at that, "I'm not. I left home at thirteen."
His eyes widen. "You were just a kid."
"So were you when you enlisted," You smile, "My parents didn't want me around so I figured why stick around?"
"I didn't know. What happened?" His eyes are soft as he looks at you and you have to force yourself to tear your eyes from his.
"When this first happened…" A small flame appears atop your hand and you roll it absentmindedly over your knuckles, "I had a really hard time controlling it. There was a fire... It was found to be caused by faulty wiring, but my parents knew what really happened. They said they didn't want a freak as a daughter. So I left. It was hard at first, but you can get used to anything."
"(Y/n)..." Bucky murmurs in quiet awe.
"Hey, having a tragic backstory is basically a requirement for superheroes," You bump your shoulder into his, drawing a laugh from the man beside you. You fall quiet for a few minutes, before you sigh. "Things were a lot better after I met-" Your eyes widen slightly and you cut yourself of. You hadn't mentioned Justine's tattoo-or Justine herself to any of the Avengers. Mostly because you were absolutely positive that it couldn't be connected. Justine was dead. You had seen her die. Despite your positivity on the matter, it didn't stop the thought from popping into your head at all times of the day. "We should probably head back." You say quickly, climbing to your feet and holding out your hand for Bucky; his hand, the metal cool from the night air, slides into yours as you pull him to his feet.
"Think we can beat our record here on the way back?" He asks and you smile.
Spoiler Alert: You did.