CHAPTER 9

.*.

"Why wait, we could be dead tomorrow. No regrets, remember?"

.*.

Bucky could have taken one of his knives and effortlessly sliced the tension that filled the room. Natasha stood above them all, her eyes completely focused on Tony's with alarming ferocity as everyone else watched the pair of them in their silent stand off - apart from Izzy. She stood off to one side, arms folded around her body in a protective stance as her eyes gazed far past them all into her own little world - he could only imagine the cogs of her mind spinning profusely as she contemplated the knowledge that Sokolov had been in her apartment without her knowing it. He cursed under his breath that he couldn't comfort her, for beneath her exterior he could sense her fragility, the situation was taking its toll on her and all he wanted to do was gather her into him and hold her - he couldn't make things better, but he wished he could at least give comfort to her and make her feel safe. The only thing that stopped him reaching for her was the fact that he had unwillingly agreed with her in her decision to not to make the Avengers aware of whatever this was between them; so instead he settled for crossing his own arms and turning his glance away from her to focus on the unfolding conversation before him - no matter how hard it was.

"No Miss Romanoff, all I am saying is that you and Legolas have been speaking to the shrinks a lot recently, if their files are on the system and you told them where her address wa-"

"Our psychologist's files are held completely separate from our work files, now, unless Sokolov not only gained access to the files in the short time he was logged onto the system, but took the time to go through Dr Henry's case numbered files to find my name amongst his many, many, many patients he deals with then yes, I am sure the information came from me." Natasha challenged Tony as a weary looking Clint who had arrived in the next lift stood protectively beside her.

"Hey, it was the first logical explanation in my head." Tony threw his hands up defensively. "We are going to have to explore every option to get to the bottom of this."

"Maybe that's exactly what he want's us to do." Bucky hadn't realised he had spoken until he felt all eyes on him, including Izzy's. Clearing his throat he carried on conveying thoughts, which were rapidly laying themselves out logically in front of him like an open book. "If we waste all of our time trying to get to the bottom of the explosion it takes us away from our investigation into him and his background - from finding out where he is and what his endgame is." he continued to avoid Izzy's eyes, instead choosing to look between Steve and Tony, the two natural alpha males of the group. "It happened, we can't change that. God knows what else he knows about us and how he plans to use that against us but we can either waste our time guessing or we could be proactively looking for him and putting a stop to it all. There's only so long that we can succeed in avoiding his schemes because sooner or later, someone is going to die."

"Someone already has."

Bucky spun his body with the rest of them to face a collapsing Sam Wilson who had soundlessly landed on Tony's penthouse platform, the sweat that covered his skin gleamed in the sunshine as well as the unmistakable patches of blood. He struggled forward as his metallic wings withdrew back into their casing, he lifted a shaking hand to remove his glasses before carelessly launching them across the room and throwing himself down on a plush chair.

"Sam?" Izzy had ran towards him, tentatively placing a hand on his shoulder as she scanned his body for the source of the blood. "What's happened?"

Bucky held his breath as he feared the worst, if Sam was this shook up then it had to be bad. Real bad.

"It's Fury. He's dead."

o.0.o

Thud. Thud. Thud.

One knife followed by a second, followed by a third. All landing perfectly in the middle of the dart board that was mounted on the wall opposite Isabelle. She readied her next three knives, her healthy arm still worked perfectly, but she was struggling to improve her aim with her damaged one.

Thud. Thud. Clang.

She roared with frustration once more, kicking the table of knives over before she squatted low and curled inwardly to herself, screaming until her voice went hoarse. She had been throwing for five hours now and there was still no improvement. The first knife had landed just off centre, the second had landed way off to the side and her third had bounced off the handle and landed on the floor, joining the heap of failed attempts before it.

It's Fury. He's dead.

The memory of Sam as he spoke those words was a burning beacon in the forefront of her mind. There had been a moment of shocked silence before Natasha had fallen forward onto her knee's as she exhaled a strangled cry, Clint was on her in seconds as he held her against him, whispering words that Isabelle couldn't decipher. Out of all of the Avengers, Natasha and Clint knew him the best - aside from Isabelle - and understandably they had taken it the hardest. Sam had talked them through the details of Fury's death but she found herself not even attempting to listen - it didn't matter how he had died, the end result was still the same - instead she focused on everyone else.

Tony without a hint of emotion at the news remained silent as he poured everyone a drink, Steve had moved himself behind Sam and placed his hand on Sam's other shoulder as Isabelle had withdrawn hers upon hearing the news. She couldn't even bring herself to look at Bucky for fear that he would look at her with such concern that she would fold into him in her grief. When Tony offered her a glass of whiskey, mumbling something about how it was an appropriate time to have one she had slapped it from his hands without thinking, causing the glass to smash across the floor in a sea of glistening white. Clint had taken a step towards her, speaking quickly in a hushed tone as he reached an arm out towards her, but the rush of blood that coursed through her ears stopped her from hearing what he was saying - and quite frankly she didn't care. As he placed the arm around her she pushed him off and sprinted away from them all towards the lift, only allowing herself to break down with the grief when the doors had firmly sealed behind her. As if J.A.R.V.I.S could sense her desperation to be alone he had sent the lift down to the training room floor above her personal apartment, where a wide array of her favourite knives had a permanent home.

And so here she had stayed for the last five hours. Ignoring the outside world, not eating - not even drinking much to her own surprise; an alcoholic beverage was the last thing she wanted. She only felt emptiness, why? She couldn't even answer that herself. She had spent the majority of her career butting heads with Nick Fury, but she had a deeply ingrained respect for him and how he conducted himself. If Sokolov could get to Fury, the most precautious man in S.H.I.E.L.D, then he could get to absolutely anyone. Fury was a warning to them, a stark reality that no matter what, Sokolov was bringing the fight to them whenever and wherever he wanted.

She had to be ready for him. She had to return to being the Agent that Fury had made her before she had been shot. Tear's and breakdowns wouldn't fix anything or help anyone.

"Miss Sullivan, Mr Barnes is in the lift, shall I let him in?" J.A.R.V.I.S's concerned voice breached her thoughts.

Isabelle allowed herself a slight smile, so far everyone but Bucky had attempted to come down to her, but she handily discovered that if she said no to J.A.R.V.I.S he readily complied. Tony giving her command over J.A.R.V.I.S within that floor was a tactical move by himself, allowing her to choose who she wanted to see. So far, Sam, Steve, Natasha and Clint had all made attempts to come down to her, but she had sent them all away - not interested in any distractions from her prime aim; full fighting fitness.

"No thank you once again, J.A.R.V.I.S." she stood up, walking to retrieve the knives from both the wall and the floor.

"Mr Barnes says he's not interested in talking, he's only interested in helping you with your aim Miss Sullivan."

Silence, as she contemplated her thoughts.

"And he also states that if you don't grant him access, he'll just come in through the window." There was a slight pause before J.A.R.V.I.S's surprised voice spoke up again. "All video and sound feed has been muted across this floor, he says you don't have to worry about... them."

Isabelle knew what Bucky was insinuating, they could have an honest conversation without worrying about the rest of The Avengers watching. She thought for a moment, weighing up the pro's and con's. She had wanted to avoid Bucky for the very reason that all she wanted was to feel him hold her, to comfort her, because boy did she want to let her grief for Fury take hold of her. But Fury wouldn't want that. He would want her to find Sokolov and end him before anyone else was hurt, so that was what she had decided to focus on, burying her emotions deep down inside of her. But on the other hand of course, if anyone was going to help her correct her aim it would be him.

"He promises only to help?" she threw the question up to the ceiling, where she liked to imagine J.A.R.V.I.S living, between all of the nooks and cranny's.

"He swears on Steve's life, Miss Sullivan."

"Okay. Let him in, but keep the surveillance feed mute J.A.R.V.I.S, I've had enough invasion into my privacy." she warned.

"Of course Miss Sullivan, you have the only authorisation for this floor."

As J.A.R.V.I.S finished speaking, the lift doors slid open to reveal an extremely pissed off Bucky, who only glared at her as he stepped out, pulling his hair up into a messy bun. Isabelle watched with bemusement as he walked to the far wall that was decorated in a range of weapons from stiletto knives to double edged long swords: she could understand his anger, she had blocked him out for the past five hours when she knew he only wanted to help. Without so much as a glance in her direction he lifted a green canvas bag that held daggers no longer than her hand off of the wall and threw the bag over to her before he readied a new dart board that was free from holes. She caught the bag with ease, letting the unfamiliar weight balance out in her hands - she had never gone smaller than a drop point knife so these were foreign territory to her.

"Slow time, throw half of the bag with your good arm, and then half with your bad." Bucky pointed towards the new dartboard on the wall in front of him. "Don't stop until I tell you."

Without a word she emptied the bag onto the table beside her and organised the knives into two rows of twelve, taking the first one she threw it about a bit in her hand - allowing her arm to get a feel for it - tossing it in her grip between the sharp point and the handle. Once she was ready and felt that she had the right balance of hold and weight on the knife she launched it at the dartboard, smirking to herself as it embedded straight into the bullseye - the other eleven swiftly followed, the last one had even embedded itself into the handle of the first one she had thrown.

She turned to Bucky, ready to gloat but he silenced her with a glower. "That's your good hand now let's try your bad and see if that smirk still remains."

Ignoring his attitude she repeated the same ritual of getting a feel for the knife with her bad arm, ignoring Bucky as she sensed him walk to the other side of her, his arms crossed as he watched her prepare. Trying her best to take no notice of his stares she positioned herself like before and put all of her will behind the first knife, stepping forward slightly as she launched it at the board.

It landed with a clatter on the floor. As did the second. And the third. And the fourth.

It was only as she prepared the fifth knife with tears in her eyes that he stepped in behind her, placing his hands on her hips. She thought he was going to pull her into him but instead he twisted her hips away so that her left hip moved forward a couple of inches. He kicked her right foot with his own so that it turned in ever so slightly before pulling her right shoulder back towards him.

"Your spending so much time putting every morsel of energy behind the knife that you're completely forgetting your form, now, don't move." he stepped away from her, there was a slight pang in her stomach as their skin lost contact but she ignored it with gritted teeth. She made her choice with regards to Bucky so she had to stick to it. "Now throw again, this time don't think about it so much." she could hear the smirk in his voice as he stepped out of her line of aim.

Eyeing up the bullseye she let her arm take control this time as she launched the knife forward, making sure her posture remained as Bucky had positioned her. She was rewarded with a resounding thud as the knife embedded itself on the outskirts of the board.

"Yes!" she cried aloud as she thrust her hands into the air, momentarily forgetting herself and her company.

"I wouldn't celebrate too soon, you haven't even hit the bullseye yet." Bucky picked up another knife and placed it into her hand. "You can start celebrating when all of them hit the board."

And every single one of them did, her confidence growing with each thud. Bucky picked up all twenty four daggers and placed them back on the table for her as he directed her to now land all twenty four of them in the board, not just twelve. It took her three attempts but she done it, collapsing back onto the table with relief after the twenty-fourth knife embedded itself between the one and the seven of the seventeen on the board.

"Not bad, now lets-"

"No." she held a hand up in front of her as her body sagged further into itself, covered in a sheen of sweat. "No more today."

"Okay." And with that one word Bucky stalked towards the lift, still refusing to look her in the eye as he stepped in and asked J.A.R.V.I.S to send him back up to the penthouse floor.

"Don't you dare J.A.R.V.I.S." she found herself calling out as she raised her eyebrows at Bucky. "Is that it? Your not even going to speak to me outside of giving me orders?"

"You didn't want to speak Izzy." his words weren't spoken harshly, but they weren't polite either. "You shut everyone out including me and hid yourself away down here, without any regard for anyone but yourself." he exited the lift as he brought himself level with her. "I may not of needed you but everyone else, especially Natasha did, what good are you down here when-"

"More good than being up there!" she bellowed at him. "What use is mourning? Fury would only want me to be a better Agent, he would want me to find Sokolov and end him before he hurts anyone else, and I can't do that unless I'm fully fit in all aspects." she let her fists ball at her side as she refused to look him in the eye, failing to stop the tears from welling. "My knives are my lifeline in a fight, trust me, practising down here was the most useful thing I could do for anyone."

"Iz, everyone knows that, they all wanted to help you - but you wouldn't let them." he stepped forward carefully, moving to reach out to her but appeared to think better of it and let his hand drop instead. She hid her disappointment as she found herself - despite her best efforts - still craving his touch. "You shut us out and tried to do it yourself which has helped no one."

"I just thought it was best..." she trailed off, realising that she had no argument, she had indeed been a massive jerk by stopping them all from coming down to her, instead choosing to once again go it alone. "Look, I'm sorry, I know I need to work on the whole letting people help thing." she picked at her nail sheepishly.

"Well, next time, you can consider accepting the help from those who care about you." he smiled softly at her as he crossed his arms, it was only now that she noticed he had changed into a grey fitted t-shirt and a pair of black sweat pants that sat on his hips pretty perfectly. "Isn't it funny how your situation's seem to get better when you do?" she ignored his allusion to the past few days where, indeed, when she had allowed him to help her, her day had indeed improved somewhat.

"Yes, I get it, I fucked up and your charming ass came along to help." she shoved him playfully before turning to the table as she started to place the daggers back into their bag, but he recovered quickly and stepped up behind her, his metal arm tentatively running a finger down her damaged one.

"You think I'm charming?" he teased as he lent his head against the back of her own, his breath dancing across her neck, causing her to shudder.

"Bucky, we decided not to pursue us for a while-"

"No." he grabbed her hips and spun her with ease so that she now faced him, he kept his hands cemented to her side as he pulled her in closer. "You decided for us to cool things off, and after nearly a day of not getting to talk to you or even be in the same room as you I'm calling bullshit on that decision." He brought his flesh hand up to cup her chin, all the while she stayed rooted to the spot, frozen by the battle of his words and her own common sense. "I've regretted the last 70 years of my life, of everything my hands have done without the consent of my own mind. I refuse to let you slip through my fingers because of something as small as what everyone else thinks or what Sokolov might do or how we might react in a field situation." he tilted her head up to allow himself to plant a delicate kiss right on her beating pulse.

"Bucky-" her head spun at the feel of his lips, whatever she had wanted to say was lost as her skin flared under his touch.

"Izzy, if you don't want anything to happen between us because YOU don't want this then just say and I will back off." he planted another kiss further down. "But I refuse to let you use everyone else as a reason for us not to explore what's happening between us."

"Bucky, someone could die if we are distracted by each other out in the field." she managed to breathe as she found her hands gripping onto his shoulders, pulling him closer - her body clearly not onside with her mind. He buried his head deeper into her neck as he timed his kisses to each deep breath that she took. "What if I'm so focused on you that someone gets hurt and I could have prevented it and I-"

Bucky pulled away from her so that he could look her in the eye. "Iz, you need to stop overthinking every possible situation. What if we just kept our feelings buried, huh? You think I still wouldn't look for you every spare second that I could? You think that if it came down to helping you or helping out one of the others I would pick them over you? Your telling me that you wouldn't do the same?" he released her hips so that he could intertwine their fingers together. "Our feelings are already decided, irregardless of how well we bury them the outcome will still be the same, at least for me anyway." He dropped her hands and took her face with his own, the last of her resolve fizzled with each word he spoke. "I'll protect you until my dying breath Izzy, nothing will ever change that now."

Her breath hitched at those words, her chest ballooning as the weight of them pressed onto her. She realised, with stupendous clarity that she would do the same for him, and he was right, nothing could change her mind on that now.

"Fuck it." Running her hands through his hair she pulled at the band holding his hair up, allowing it to cascade around her fingers as she gripped it tight. They fell back against the table as their lips connected, she wasted no time in parting Bucky's lips with her own, allowing herself to enjoy the sweet sensation of his breath ticking her lips before engulfing her senses in his sweet taste. Her mind free of any thoughts or worries, she guided them away from the table, his arms cocooning her body as he held her close to his own, their kiss deepening until her back connected with the wall behind them. Without skipping a beat he lifted her up by her thighs and pushed her body against the wall so that their faces were level, she wrapped her legs around his waist, keeping her hands nestled in his hair as he shifted his weight so that his hips supported her. Brushing her lips with his own he teased her before intensifying the kiss once more. A low moan rumbled in her throat as he bit her bottom lip before tracing a line of pecks along her jawline, she could feel the smirk on his lips as he moved them to her collarbone, taking care to tease her with a long pause between each touch before bringing his lips up to her ear.

"We can stop, love." he breathed, showing no conviction in his words as he buried his lips once more into her neck, causing her to inadvertently buck against him from the sheer pleasure that flared to life within her groin at his touch. "Fuck, Izzy." he muttered as she felt his passion grow against her leg. He entwined his hand through her hair as he pulled their lips together once more, kissing her with such vivacious passion that Isabelle felt her head spin from lack of oxygen.

"Bucky." she managed to breathe against his lips.

His reply came in the form of a low moan as he bit her bottom lip once more, sending her senses into overdrive. She didn't want to wait any longer, to hell with the consequences.

"Not.. here." she panted between each soft peck he bestowed upon her lips. "My apartment is below us."

He pulled back and rested his head against hers, his steel blue eyes shone with fervour as he fought to catch his breath. "Iz, we don't have too, we can take it slow, we can-"

She silenced him with her lips, unhooking her legs from his waist and letting herself drop onto her own feet. Reluctantly, she pushed herself away from him as she grabbed his metal hand and pulled him towards the lift, not losing eye contact as she bit her lip, which only seemed to drive him crazier. As they reached the waiting lift he picked her up once more and carried her in, pressing them up against the mirror. She gripped his shoulders for support as she lost herself in the sweet taste of his lips once more, the faint smell of his aftershave intoxicating her senses. She only felt hungrier for him as he devoured her, each time their lips parted he slipped his tongue in to greet her own as a low moan rumbled from her throat against his lips.

"Iz, I mean it, we can take it slow-" he attempted to remain a gentleman as he let his lips dance across her collarbone once more.

"Why wait, we could be dead tomorrow. No regrets, remember?" she used his own words against him, laughing as he growled against her skin.

"J.A.R.V.I.S my apartment please." she grinned as Bucky's frustrations boiled over and he pressed himself closer to her.

"Yeah. No. That won't be happening. Agent Sullivan get your ass up here now."

Isabelle pushed herself away from Bucky as he mirrored her shocked expression, without a chance for her to process the voice or think, the lift spun to life as it shifted them up the few floors to the penthouse, it only took seconds for the doors to open to reveal a fully intact and alive Nick Fury, seething as he spoke.

"If you two lovebirds are quite done swapping spit, we ain't got all day."