CHAPTER 6
.*.
"Jesus Iz how much have you had to drink?"
.*.
Isabelle curled up against the back of her bedroom door as she listened to the three of them - Tony, Bucky and Steve - bustling around the apartment, presumably doing as they were told and cleaning their mess up. Placing her head in her hands she took slow, deep breaths in a lame attempt to avoid a repeat of her panic attack from earlier.
The whole situation had happened so fast that it hadn't hit her until her door was shut that she was within seconds of being killed by Bucky. She wasn't afraid to admit to herself that he had terrified her, especially when he looked at her with no recognition of who she was - but she wouldn't admit that to Steve and Tony. When you know someone – or rather they know you – there is always that glint of recognition in the corner of their eye, one you can play on if you need to to get yourself out of a bad situation. With Bucky in the throws of a nightmare, that safety net was out of the window and if it wasn't for those darts she would have been quite easily dead. The thought of those cold, dead eyes being the last thing she saw sent a tight pang across her chest. Who was she to Bucky anyway? Even if he had some control could he have stopped? As far as she was concerned she was just a glorified babysitter who so far, had actually caused more bother than him.
Events at her apartment - whilst it acted as a safe house - had played out a lot more differently than how Isabelle had imagined. She expected to be working on her arm strength and getting it back to being as perfect as humanly possible, to be working on a plan to track down Sokolov and then to back up that plan with some reconnaissance - not having emotional breakdowns and being attacked by an ex brainwashed murderer who turns into his inner demon every time he falls asleep. She still didn't know what to make of the situation she found herself in with Bucky when he was helping her through her panic attack. He had been so gentle with her - she would be making a liar of herself if she said she hadn't felt anything as he held her face so close to his own, cradling and stroking her cheek as he too looked completely content with their proximity. But her self restraint kicked in, she had to push away from him because she was in no state to go down that path again. She didn't do dating anymore, in fact she hadn't even looked at a man in that way for nearly two years, not since Mason.
She swallowed hard as his name danced around in her head, teasing her, torturing her. Nothing she had ever endured in her life could ever compare to the pain and suffering he had caused her - even being shot and stabbed in the shoulder was minuscule in comparison. He had taken so much from her - he nearly succeeded in destroying her completely – but Steve, Natasha and Clint clawed her back from the path of destruction that she had set herself on after Oslo.
"Oslo." She whispered aloud.
Even the word tasted bitter in her mouth. Mason and Oslo took everything from her. In fact, everything that had happened in the last fours days paled in comparison. She wiped away the single tear that travelled down her cheek, followed by another and another.
It was all too much - a sharp, shooting pain grew in the middle of her chest as the memories engulfed her. She needed to numb her mind, she needed to make it all go away.
Controlling herself, she listened intently to the other side of the door. She could only hear complete silence, which meant that for the time being, for whatever reason, they were gone. Isabelle viewed that as a positive for herself though, as there was something she needed, something she hadn't craved in a while, and it was best if no one was around to see her retrieve it.
She listened for a little while longer, when she was satisfied that her path would be clear she stood up, opened her door and creeped out. As she peeked around the hall she was met with a strong sense of emptiness. Breathing a sigh of relief she tip toed over to the top right cabinet in her kitchen - the place for her naughty stash - and opened it, only to be met with two empty shelves.
"Looking for this?" a quiet voice called out from behind.
Isabelle spun on her toes to find Steve leaning against the wall, her last bottle of Whiskey clasped in his hands.
"Where's Bucky and Tony?" she asked, glancing down at the bottle.
"They'll be back soon, they've gone to source a new door and bed for your spare room since Bucky trashed your previous ones." He spoke like it was a joke, but the joke didn't reach his eyes. Looking down at the bottle and back up at her he spoke with an unusual caution. "Izzy, don't do this."
"Do what?" she crossed her arms and lent back against the counter, avoiding his eye line. No one was supposed to be around, now that Steve was here it made things difficult.
"You've done so well since last time, this isn't the ans-"
"Oh, right because you would know wouldn't you? The almighty Captain America has the answer for everything." She snapped.
The pain in her chest had risen, she could feel her blood boiling as a dull ringing in her ears caused her anger to build with a sudden, unannounced rage inside of her. She was always helping everyone, always. So what if her version of self help and dulling painful memories was a few drinks? The dad lecture from Steve was getting old and not what she needed right now. The quicker she got him out of her apartment, the better.
"Just because you choose to act like your life is all perfect, despite the fact that your one shot at happiness was left in the 1940's along with the world you knew doesn't mean I always have to be at your high standard!" Her voice cracked as she aimed her venomous words at him, but she refused to cry. A little voice in the back of her mind told her to stop, that she would regret saying these things to him, that her repulsive attack against a true friend was appalling, but she told that side of her brain to shut the hell up. She was done being the woman that pretended everything was okay.
"I mean look at your life Steve, you lost Peggy, you lost your friends, you awoke in a life that wasn't your own where people expect you to save a shitty human race that's frankly not worth saving. I mean, to top it all off your best friend comes back as the next crazy dude that's trying to kill you and even then you don't break! You act like its all okay when its not. Not everyone is perfect like you Steve, not everyone can hold their lives together like you. Some of us are just normal humans, some of us just need a damn drink from time to time."
"But you don't just drink, do you Izzy?" his face remained unchanged, if she had hurt his feelings he didn't show it which just infuriated her even more - she wanted the fight. "After Oslo you took yourself to a dark place, and the drinking nearly killed you. I promised myself I wouldn't let that happen again." He walked over to her slowly, uncapping the Whiskey. "Regardless of how much of an ass your being right now, I'm still keeping that promise."
He upturned the bottle in the sink, Isabelle could only watch as the last of the bottle drained away, the fumes hit her nostrils hard, her cravings enveloped her.
"Screw you, screw the Avenger's and screw SHIELD." She growled in his ear before turning away to return to her room. She could easily source some more.
"Izzy wait." He grabbed her arm and pulled her back to face him, without thinking she brought her hand up and slapped him, hard. Of course, a meagre slap from her puny human hand would barely have squashed a hair on his chin, but it sent shock waves through his eyes. He shoved her away, his fury evident in his stance.
"You want to ruin your life again Izzy? You want to drink yourself underneath the table, you want to ruin your career as an Agent? Be my guest. Oslo is not worth it. The memory of him is not worth it. But no matter how much I tell you that, you won't listen. Fine, learn the hard way again, but I'm taking Bucky with me and I'm telling Fury. If you won't let us help you then I'll force the help on you." He stepped closer, bringing his face inches from her own. "I won't watch you destroy your life again, and you can bet Natasha and Clint won't let you either."
"Steve?" Isabelle turned her head to see that Bucky had appeared at the door, his mouth gaped slightly as he looked between them. Tony appeared slowly behind him, an unreadable expression on his face as he squeezed passed Bucky to get into the room.
"Last chance Izzy, let us help you the right way or this is going to get messy." she turned back to see that Steve hadn't moved an inch and had remained entirely focused on her.
Her cheeks burned as she felt all three sets of eyes on her, and all three sets she candidly avoided. Tony stepped further into the room, approaching them both slowly as if he were walking towards an unexploded bomb. Which to be fair right now - that was the best way to describe her.
"Steve, we got a problem?" Tony asked as he drew level with them, but he was ignored as Steve continued to keep his burning, furious gaze on her.
"Agent Sullivan?" Tony rounded his attention on her, but she could only bring herself to focus on a small stain embedded into his tie. All she had done was cause havoc, she knew deep down the Whiskey was a bad idea, but she needed to forget, she needed to dull the pain.
"She's not an Agent right now." Steve snapped over at him, Isabelle felt a weight lift as his gaze moved from her. "We were right, she should not have been left with Bucky, I could see it in her eyes when we first walked in, all of this is sending her back down the slippery slope of alcoholism."
Isabelle ignored Tony's sharp intake of breath, instead she brought her gaze up to meet Steve's, hoping that it conveyed her anger. After all she had done for him, after the dedication she had shown in helping him to get back on his feet again after being woken up - this was how he re-payed her? He couldn't give her a break just once.
"So, what's it gonna be Izzy?" Steve stepped closer once more. The thought of punching him in the face crossed her mind again but common sense prevailed. More so for the fact she liked her hand intact.
"Don't do this to yourself Iz." The words came out of Tony's mouth in a gravelled whisper. She glanced over at him, slightly shocked, as she had never seen him speak with such quiet concern before, she knew they were only looking out for her and that she should be grateful. But she couldn't do this anymore. There was only one thing she wanted right now and Steve wouldn't let her have it. After the last few days that she had had, she craved the burn of the spirit down her throat, beer just wasn't cutting it anymore.
"Go to hell." She hissed as she turned away from them both, wiping a fresh tear that she hoped they didn't see.
"Iz, if this is about Oslo-" Tony began but she cut him off.
"It's about everything!" she let her voice rise with her anger. "It's about the fact that every time I'm involved with the Avenger's someone always dies. It happened in Oslo, it nearly happened the other night in the bar and it definitely nearly happened right here in my own apartment. You guys have that little trust in me that you set a camera up in my own spare bedroom!" She turned to Steve. "You want to go to Fury then go, you want to be the hero again and try and save me? Crack on. But for now, leave me the hell alone." The little voice popped up in her mind again, lambasting her for how she was treating her co-workers, her friends. But she was done holding herself together. Maybe Helen was right, she should have talked Oslo out with someone, she should have got her shit together, but right now she was happy for her life to spiral out of control, what did she have to live for? The universe seemed hell bent on destroying her life piece by piece, so why shouldn't she just enjoy the ride? Without another word she grabbed her jacket and purse from the dining table and pushed passed Tony and Steve, who thankfully didn't stop her. Bucky however had other ideas.
"Get out of the way Bucky." She crossed her arms and stared him out as he blocked her access to the front door.
At first she thought he was going to argue, he had been strangely quiet the whole time, but instead, after one glance behind her - presumably at Steve - he stood to one side, leaving her to go free. She avoided his eyes as she walked passed him, he went to speak but she quickly yanked the door closed behind her. There was only one place she wanted to be right now.
o.0.o
"What the hell was that about?" Tony rounded on Steve, thunderous accusations radiated from his concerned expression.
Steve turned and walked towards the dining table, sitting himself down as he rubbed his temple with his thumb and forefinger. He partially felt ashamed at what he had said to Izzy - threatening to have her fired and to force help on her, but he couldn't see any other way. He had to admit to himself that her words had riled him up, despite the fact he knew they were just that. Words. Ones he knew that she would deeply regret, and ones he knew he would easily forgive her for. Like he did last time. She had done so much for him, he felt obliged to return the favour. He let his anger get the better of him and now she was out on the streets of New York in a worse state than before. Why didn't he let her have a drink and monitor her from afar? Maybe she would have stopped at one, but then again, maybe not.
She was never the same after Oslo, they only knew the little that she shared, but not enough to piece together what fully happened. They knew there was a mission in Oslo, they knew Izzy had fallen for someone, and they knew that the mission ended with her twin brothers dead and Izzy being inconsolable for months, relying on alcohol to get her through the days. There were many nights he spent sat at the edge of her bed, rubbing her back as she cried in her sleep, calling out the names of her lost brothers, lambasting herself for causing their death. Even Natasha refused to talk about it, when him and Tony approached her to gain some kind of understanding she refused, only stating that it was the most satisfying kill of her career and that Izzy was not to be asked about it ever again. He didn't want her to fall back into her old habits again, not when she had been doing so well.
"I guess she's still not over it?" Tony sat down beside him, moving to speak again but he was interrupted by Bucky, who had soundlessly moved before them.
"Does anyone want to tell me whats going on?" Steve looked up to see Bucky's eyebrows raised with a hint of concern. Izzy's current mental state wasn't the only concern Steve had about Bucky being here so close in proximity to her, but they could wait until they sorted her out before that issue was tackled.
"Izzy went through a lot of shit a couple of years back, its not really our place to tell you the story Buck."
"Steve, we have to do something, we can't let her fall on her ass again." Tony picked at a chip in the table, his face absent of expression, which meant he was deeply, deeply concerned. "More importantly I don't want my ass kicked by Miss Romanoff if she returns to find Izzy completely broken and we had done nothing to prevent it."
"But what can we do?" Steve threw his hands up in exasperation. "Do we lock her up and throw away the key until its all over? Do we let her drink herself into the gutter?"
"Well, we could do that," Tony looked thoughtful for a second, moving to explain himself as Steve raised his eyebrows. "Y'know, let her blow off a little bit of steam, let her have a couple of nights to drink away the pain, to numb herself. Heck if she wants to do knife practice on us to get her anger out I'm game." Tony's smile barely reached his eyes as he glanced between Steve and Bucky. Steve wondered if this was a glimpse of the Tony that Pepper saw. "She's been through a lot Steve, I know you're protective of her, but sometimes it's just easier to let us humans have a good blow out with a bottle of something." He clapped Steve on the back. "Plus, we both know drunk Izzy will talk sense into sober Izzy."
Steve smiled at that comment, mainly because it was true. The last time they had seen Izzy drunk she had spent a good thirty minutes apologising to her own reflection in a mirror that she had knocked over.
"Your right, I should go find her, get her back here." He made to stand up but Tony shot up out of his seat and stopped him.
"I don't think you're the right person to speak to her right now, especially after that blazing argument you guys just had and that impeccable slap she landed on you."
"How did you-"
"What, you think I didn't sense that something wasn't right when she ran away to her room earlier?" he walked to the kitchen island counter and removed a minuscule mic from underneath. "Me and Bucky probably would have been back earlier if I hadn't heard the argument, I decided to let it play out." He shrugged nonchalantly.
"You know, maybe you guys should stop spying on her. Maybe she has issues with you all because of stuff like this." There was no mistaking the icy tone in Bucky's voice as he spoke.
"Buck, its not intentional, we just wanted to look out for her." Steve stood and approached his old friend, but Bucky stepped back, glancing between him and Tony.
"Yeah well, between myself and this crazy Russian dude she's nearly been killed twice in the last four days, maybe give her a little benefit of the doubt that if she isn't handling things she at least knows how to handle herself. There's no need for all this monitoring." Steve glanced down at Bucky's balled fists, his slow burning fury was evident.
"Oh my, Steve, has old Bucky fallen in love so quickly?" Tony chuckled as he made little heart shapes with his fingers.
Bucky lunged for Tony in a split second but Steve, still looking at Bucky's fists caught the movement and flung himself between them just in time. "Now is not the time to be fighting guys, alright?" He pushed Bucky back before he gave Tony a sharp punch to the arm, snapping him out of his teasing and pointed at him. "Enough."
After a tense few moments Bucky spoke. "Your right, sorry, I can remain a bit sensitive after one of my uh... turns."
"I'll say." Tony muttered, Steve punched him once more and gave him his 'not helping' stare.
"How about we brainstorm on how we are going to help Iz before the Terrible Two return from their mission and find their prized student broken." Tony raised his eyebrows at them both as he rubbed his arm. "And stop punching me, I know its hard to believe but out of the suit it fu-"
"I'll go after her, she seems pissed off with me the least out of the three of us." Bucky cut Tony off at the right moment, before Steve punched him again for bad language.
"Buck, you haven't seen her like this before, it can get bad. If we don't help her now she could hit rock bottom and never come back up again." Steve warned him.
"I think between the three of us we have all experienced that." Bucky spoke quietly. "But myself more recently, so let me go after her."
Bucky going after her made sense to Steve, for one, Bucky was neither Tony or himself, and two Steve had bore witness to the fact that there was something growing between Izzy and Buck, something that he didn't think either was aware of yet - he hoped.
"Yeah, your right Buck." Steve sighed, the whole situation was giving him a piercing headache. "She'll be in a bar down the street called Happy Joe's, but be careful, she has an acid tongue when she's defensive. "
"Got it." Bucky nodded at them both once before grabbing his jacket and heading out the door, closing it gently behind him.
"You're really going to let him be the one to deal with her when she is like this?" Tony flicked his hands up in a 'what the hell' motion.
"If Bucky can handle Hydra for 60 plus years he can handle Izzy." Signalling around the room he gave Tony a pointed stare. "Remove everything, all the cameras, all the mics, Bucky is right - we should be giving her the benefit of the doubt."
"That's all fair and well Steve, but we've both seen the recordings, we've both listened in. It was quick thinking telling Bucky that Dr Cho told us about her panic attack and not admitting that we sat and watched the whole thing." He brought himself face to face with Steve. "That dirt bag Mason nearly destroyed her, we've both seen the chemistry between her and Bucky even if they don't know it themselves. Do you really think its wise that we leave her in a situation where they could go further, to put her in a situation where she could be destroyed once again if Bucky was ever turned back into the Winter Soldier? Do you think she could cope with him not recognising her? It nearly broke you Steve, you nearly let yourself die at his hand because of it, are we really going to put her through that? I say we remove him now before this goes any-"
"Like I said." Steve cut him off. "Lets give her the benefit of the doubt. Remove it all."
Tony, surprisingly for once stopped arguing. "Fine, but if it all goes wrong its on your shoulders."
"Isn't it always." Steve muttered.
o.0.o
The whiskey went down smoothly, so smoothly that Isabelle managed to have six of them within 15 minutes of arriving at her favourite bar - Happy Joe's. The second Isabelle had left the apartment she had instantly regretted how she had spoken to Steve, it was almost like walking out of the apartment had made her snap out of some crazy trance. She should have gone back in and apologised, but the craving for a neat whiskey won. So here she was, perched on a bar stool that she hadn't occupied in months, sinking whiskey's like they were going out of fashion.
"Alright darling, needing a top up?" she turned to see an older man had plopped himself onto the stool beside her. Sober Isabelle would have gone on high alert in an instant and be thumbing the switchblade in her pocket - which she had coincidentally forgotten in her rush to leave the apartment - but drunk Isabelle burst out laughing at the ridiculous cowboy hat that he was wearing.
"Wooooooah Cowboy!" she hooted, slamming her arm down on the bar. "Just what I need right now - Woody. Any chance you've got an astronaut hiding behind you too that answers to Buzz? And some talking potatoes?" she cocked her eyebrow at the man who only looked confused in return. "Well, I guess that joke fell short." she snorted into her drink as she took another gulp, finishing it off. "Barman?" she raised the empty glass in the air. She didn't have to worry about being cut off as Joe, the owner, was always desperate for business and rarely turned away a happy paying customer. Taking her glass, the barman poured her another double before placing it back in her outstretched, waiting hand.
"Allow me ma'am." the cowboy dug his hand into his pocket and produced a twenty dollar bill just as she reached for her purse to find money, chucking it at the barman he held up two fingers. "Make that two."
As the barman sorted the cowboy's drink he pulled his stool closer, slapping his hand down on Isabelle's leg. Now her senses were on alert. Placing her glass down she turned to the man, if she had to deal with him it would have to be without a drink in her hand, she didn't believe in wasting perfectly good whiskey.
"Remove your hand." she gave a clear command - in her head at least, she was positive it most likely came out as nothing more than a gargle - but nonetheless she backed her words up by pushing his hand off of her leg.
He moved his hand with ease around her back and pulled her stool even closer so that her legs were rammed in between his, cementing her in place. Sober Isabelle would have twisted his arm around his back and slammed his head on top of the counter a few times for good measure by now. But she was drunk, and drunk Isabelle was struggling to know which face was his, the left, right or middle one.
"You look like your in a crisis darling, like you could be doing with some comforting." he lent forward, breathing his stale cigarette breath all over her face.
"No." she glared up at him, but he ignored her once more as he pushed his face into hers, attempting to kiss her.
Screw it. Middle face it was.
Shooting her hand up she clawed the cowboys neck as she gripped it tight and forced his head down onto the counter, knocking his hat off in the process. "What part of No don't you understand?!" she screamed at him as she moved to grab his arm and attempt do some damage, but she had completely overestimated her abilities at her current level of drunkeness. He brushed her arm to one side with ease and grabbed her by the hair, pulling her off of her stool. She let out a small yelp as she felt some hair at the bottom of her head pull away in his grip.
"Listen here bitch, if I want to have my way with you I will." he gave her a terrifying grin as he once more went to force his tongue into her mouth. She wouldn't normally fight dirty, but she was very aware that she had lost her balance and her perfect vision to alcohol, so playing dirty was the only thing that was going to get her out of this. Gripping his chest she pulled him closer as she brought her knee up hard, ramming it into his groin. He crumpled within seconds. Once he was on the floor she kicked him for good measure, satisfied that he was handled for at least a minute she picked up her drink to finish it before she moved on - she noted the barman had disappeared, coward.
"You stupid, stupid bitch!" Isabelle had only just placed her drink back down in time as he launched for her, how had he got back up so quickly? With nothing else to do she flung her arms up, hoping they would at least protect her face. But the blow that she braced for never came, instead she heard a grunt, a solid punch and then a whimper. Letting her arms drop slowly she took in the scene before her. The cowboy was on the floor, out cold, and before her with his metal arm held in front of her protectively was Bucky, glaring at the comatose form in front of him.
"Bucky?" she temporarily sobered for a split second as he turned, his anger burning into her.
"Finish your drink, we're leaving." he walked passed her to the entrance, pushing the door open with his foot.
Draining the dregs of her glass she grabbed her bag and purse, sparing a glance at the cowboy before turning back to the door where she could make out three Bucky's, two of them more blurry than the middle one. Isabelle made a mental note to her drunk self to always aim for the middle one in future drunken shenanigans - it was vital information, and she was sure that Clint and Natasha would be proud of her for deducing that. Just as she got to the door she tripped, but Bucky's arm caught her with ease.
"Jesus Izzy, how much have you had to drink?" he murmured as he flung one of her arms around his neck and held onto her waist with his other arm, cementing her to his side to assure that there would be no more falling.
"Sorry, Dad." she giggled as she hiccuped. He ignored her as he walked forward into the cool night air, looking down every so often to make sure that she was walking too and he wasn't just dragging her feet. "Jesus, did they make your body do sit ups whilst you were frozen?!" she exclaimed as she dug her free hand into his stomach, where she was met with pure solid muscle. "It's like walking with a human rock."
"Has anyone told you that you talk complete and utter nonsense when your drunk?" he smiled down at her, ignoring the question.
"All the time." she hiccuped again, placing a hand over her mouth as she felt her stomach shift.
He stopped, holding her away slightly. "Are you going to be sick?"
Swallowing, she took in a couple of breaths. "Nope, false alarm." she returned to giggling. Why was she giggling? She glanced back up at Bucky who had returned to focusing on the path ahead, presumably back to her apartment. In the pale moonlight she could make out his distinguished cheekbones, he had allowed a little bit of stubble to grow over the last couple of days but she thought that just made him look even more handsome. Matched with the long hair that she was totally digging and his deep blue 'come hither' eyes she was beginning to look at him in a completely different light, one where she didn't just think of him as an ex-brainwashed serial killer - but a hot one. "Your pretty." the words were out before the sober filter caught them.
"And your drunk." she noted the small smile on his lips.
"And your smiling." she cheesed at him as she prodded his face. "Whats the matter pretty boy, never been told you're pretty by a drunk girl glued to your hips before?"
"No, can't say I have."
"Liar."
"Your drunk Iz."
"Your still pretty." She hit her palm against her forehead. Between the night air and hiccuping the fumes up, her sober filter was slowly coming back into effect. "Bucky, get me back before anything else stupid comes out of my mouth."
His grin grew wider as he nodded. "Yes boss."
It didn't take long before they reached the entrance to her apartment block. Apparently deciding it was easier, Bucky scooped her up off the floor and into his arms, carrying her up the stairs with ease. "Key?" he asked as they approached the door.
She waved her purse in his face. "In here."
Wordlessly he took the bag from her and unzipped it with one hand, fishing her keys out and opening the door, once they were inside and the door was shut he placed her down gently. "Can you walk?"
"I'm drunk Bucky, not legless." she stumbled forward into the kitchen area, grabbing the fridge door for support, giggling at her own joke. "Ha, get it? Not legless? Never mind." she waved her hand at his confused expression. "You'll get it eventually." yanking the door open she pulled out two beers before walking back over and shoving one into Bucky's hand.
"Can you get drunk? Or are you like Steve where its completely impossible?" she tried to keep herself balanced as she looked up at him, at least there was only one of him now.
"I wouldn't say impossible, but it would take a lot, look Iz, I don't think this is a good idea to dri-"
"Fine!" she didn't let him finish as she placed the bottle on the counter. "No drinking, but when my sober filter comes back and I'm completely horrified at what I've done tonight you can deal with the consequences."
"I'll hold your hair as you throw up, that's about as far as I go." he grinned at her.
"Where has the Star Spangled Banner and Tin Man gone?" she paused, looking around the room, the guilt was already eating at her for the way she had spoken to Steve, but he had provoked her. Changing her mind she removed the bottle cap and took a swig of beer.
"I'd say they have both cleared out, give you a bit of breathing room." he gave her an apologetic look. "Steve know's you didn't mean any of it." he attempted to assure her, as if he could read her mind.
"I'm a horrible human being." she grumbled as she put the beer to one side, deciding that she needed to sit down.
Brushing passed him she slumped onto the sofa, a moment later he joined her. They stayed silent for a while, she stole a glance up to see that he was staring at the empty fire beneath the TV, completely zoned out, his body barely even relaxed. She could fix that easily she thought to herself - before SHIELD had recruited her she had been in the middle of a physiotherapy course. Jumping up, she stumbled around the back of the sofa and placed her hands on his shoulder's.
Jumping forward at her touch he turned to face her. "What are you doing?"
"You're tense, you need your shoulders rubbed, that's what Natasha always does to Bruce when he looks like he wants to punch Tony." she shrugged as if it made total sense. Reaching forward she pulled him back so that he was slumped again, pushing her thumbs into his back in wide circles as he sat there, completely rigid. "Y'know, this is only going to work if you chill out a bit." she stated, moving her hands to the back of his neck and continuing the circular motion.
"It's a bit hard to focus when a woman who could gut me in an instant with a knife is kneading my back from behind." he breathed, his discomfort evident.
Without thinking she walked around the sofa to face him, as he went to stand up, clearly sensing her intentions she pushed him back down by his shoulders and climbed onto his legs, each of hers straddling either side of his as her hands found his chest.
"There, now I'm not behind you, you can see that my hands are free of knives and are merely here to aid you in relaxing." she wiggled her fingers in front of his face to prove her point. No knives.
"Iz, I don't think this is a good idea." he went to move her but she grabbed his hands and held them against her hips.
"You didn't have a problem with me straddled on your lap yesterday?" she threw back at him. Drunk Isabelle knew that sober Isabelle was going to be embarrassed by how forward she was being but she didn't care. She didn't know what it was with Bucky but she felt something, how she felt something for him so quickly in such a short space of time she couldn't figure, of course it could be the alcohol, but why wait to find out? The world had it in for her, she could die tomorrow, or the next day, or the next. At least she would die with no regrets.
"We both felt it that day. It felt like we were in the right place." she whispered in his ear as she removed her hands from his and brought them up, taking the thumb of her right hand, she ran it along his cheekbone, just like he had done yesterday. He shut his eyes as he took short sharp breaths through his nose, almost leaning against her hand. "Your slightest touch whirred my senses to life, I was intrigued, I was confused. I have a rule that I don't do men, and yet there I was wanting to be even closer to you." she tilted his face up so that she could look into his eyes, his deep blue eyes that were normally reserved, but in this instant that he opened them she could have read a thousand stories through them. They were alive, and they recognised her, and it felt good. Sitting there with him, she didn't feel drunk anymore, in fact, she felt more alive then than she had felt in months. If she regretted it, who would care? If she didn't... only time would tell.
"Izzy," he breathed as he held onto her hips with a bit more grip, although she had a feeling that was more for himself than a lust for her. "Your drunk, we can't, I can't-"
"I feel more sober in my mind right now than I have all year." she brushed her lips against his as she moved her hands behind his neck. "I know you feel it too, the spark, like we were invincible together." she gave his bottom lip a small peck, relishing in the heat of his skin.
Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! the voice in the back of her head screamed. But she quashed it.
"Iz." he groaned, she could hear the battle in his voice as he gripped her hips harder. "We can't do this, we can-"
She cupped his face as she pushed her lips down onto his own, tired of the talking. It was only a small kiss, but as she pulled away and stared into his eyes they reflected the longing that she felt before he closed them. When he didn't move and the small sting of rejection grew she let her hands drop to her sides, she was about to climb off when he squeezed her hips tight as if he had flared back to life.
"Fuck it." his hands came up and clinched her face tight as he pressed his lips against hers - hard. The fire in her groin burst into life as she more than happily reciprocated, parting his lips with her own and deepening their kiss, indulging herself in the taste of his soft lips. For someone that had been out of the game for sixty plus years he was a damn good kisser. She tangled her hands in his hair, pulling him closer against her body - but it wasn't enough.
She had to be closer, she wanted to feel his skin against hers.
Reaching down, she went to pull his t-shirt up but his hands fell from her face in an instant and stopped her.
"Not like this Iz." he panted, leaning his head against hers, his breath tickling her lips. "Not like this, it's not right, we will both regret it if we carry on any longer."
Even if she didn't want to admit it - he was right, if her feelings were true and not just a drunken overthought of the sober confusion she had over yesterday when he had coaxed her out of her attack, then sober Isabelle could make her own choice. But she couldn't bear to lose his touch, she felt so alive with her skin touching his. Standing up and ignoring the ache as she momentarily lost contact with him she held her hand out. "Your right, but at least come to bed with me." she looked to the floor, too embarrassed to look him in the eye. "I can't stand the thought of being alone right now."
Wordlessly, he gave her a small smile before taking her hand and standing up. Without looking back at him she walked over and into her bedroom, his fingers loosely tangled in hers as he followed behind and closed the door.