This time, you watched the waiter a little more carefully as he retrieved your dishes. He didn't meet your eyes, or look at you whatsoever, for that matter. Instead, when he locked eyes with James, he quickened his pace and left promptly. You sighed.
"I don't see how anyone could ever be scared of you, babe." He broke out of his intense stare at the man, and focused back in on you. "Mm, well, I can take a few guesses as to why." He waved his metal appendage above the tablecloth, earning a small chuckle out of you.
Of course you knew why people were apprehensive, but found it hard to come to terms with it sometimes. For example, when he comes into your room at night in an oversized sweater because he can't sleep, or when he stumbles in his boots while walking upstairs.
"No, really. I just think you're a work of art." Every word out of your mouth was true, and then some. It only took a few minutes before the man came back with your check, which James swiped quicker than in the time you could blink. It didn't matter, you'd find a way to repay him one way or another.
Soon enough, you were making your way out of the restaurant and to the gelato place down the street. While waiting on the crosswalk light, he took the cheesy courtesy of placing his jacket over your shoulders. It must've been more of a power move in the 40's, you assumed, because he looked damn proud of himself.
While it was a little chilly, you could guess that it was more to keep prying eyes off of you than anything else.
To your delight, they had just enough of (favorite flavor) left to satisfy your sweet desires. "Thank you so much, Buck." You leaned into him as you walked back through downtown to the car, a wide grin on your face. The gelato was so creamy and not too sweet, but just enough so that it hit the right spot.
James was warm against the chilly night air, and his hand felt so right in yours. However, your euphoria was cut short upon his jacket slipping off of your shoulders. "Oh, pause." You bent over to retrieve it, but jolted upright upon a loud voice.
It was a male's voice, and sounded relatively close in age. But it wasn't about who said it rather than what he said. "Damn, baby, let me get a piece of that!" Jacket in arms, you turned around to your now opponent. Short, brown hair, dark eyes, comfortable outfit, and shit-eating smile.
You had no idea who this man was. His, what you assumed were, friends began laughing and whistling from their spot near the crosswalk. Any other time, you would have been marching down the sidewalk to kick his ass, but because this night was so special, you took a deep breath and turned back around to ignore him.
To your surprise, however, your date was gone. Everything else went by so fast it seemed like it wasn't real. First, James barreling towards him. Then, the man was on the ground. People walking by had their phones out the whole time, and you knew this wouldn't be the end of the story.
Before you knew it, James was walking back towards you. You really hoped that wasn't blood on his hand.
It was blood on his hand. And later on, it was coupled with three stitches, bruising, and a daily routine to follow. He could really be an asshole when he wanted to.
"Why couldn't you have hit him with your other hand? Or, better yet, not at all?" Tony was steaming like a hot pork bun when he saw Bucky's picture on the news. "We have to pay for his fucked up face!" James sunk into his chair, folding his arms across his chest and looking at a leg of the table.
Tony turned to you. "Why didn't you stop him?" You, unlike James, defended yourself, "I didn't know he was gone! He basically sprinted over, you can't blame me for that!" You took a second. "Those bills can be payed easily, why are you on our asses about this? It's OUR private life." You stood up, mirroring Tony's stance.
"It's not the money, it's the politics, (Y/n)." He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled through his nose, "We're trying to look like the good guys out there, and this isn't helping our campaign." You threw your hands up defensively and dropped them at your sides, "What you need us to do, then?"
He took a moment to think, only having been prepared to lecture the whole time. "How about, get this:-" he held his hands out dramatically to frame something, looking off into the distance, "Stop Getting Into Fights." You rolled your eyes, but nodded in agreement anyway.
"We'll control it." He clapped his hands together and grinned. "Fantastic. All I needed to hear." You motioned for James to follow you, and made your way out of the meeting.
"Thanks for backing me up, doll." James grinned shyly, situating himself onto one of the barstools in the kitchen. "Always." You returned his smile, resting your hand on his knee