Sorry for the delay everyone! I hope you enjoy this chapter; please let me know! It was a little hard for me to write, so please tell me what you think. I've been itching to get to the next chapter, I think that's partially why.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything Marvel related :(
Chapter Nine
My shriek was enough for the Winter Soldier to grab the doctor by his shoulder and yank him back, sending him skidding across the hardwood floor. Strange's… cape?... shoved him up off of the ground and with a few flicks of his wrist, he created a shield of orange in each hand and fell into a defensive stance.
And Bucky had fallen into soldier mode. His metal arm whirred and he raised it, holding it out in front of him and preparing for a fight, a sneer on his face and fire in his eyes.
Oh, balls.
Bucky ran at the doctor, banging a metal fist on one of Strange's brightly glowing shields. The force of the blow was enough to cause him to buckle, grunting and shoving with all his might against the strength of the super soldier. With a heave, he threw him off, but Bucky came at him again with a yell, slamming his full body weight against him and bringing them crashing to the ground.
"Fuck!"
Leaping from the bed, I tore the splint from my hand, making for the pair of them as quickly as I could, "Stop it! Guys! You're on the same side!"
Strange disentangled himself from the furious soldier, dashing away from him and creating a crackling, orange whip. With a flick of the wrist, he snapped it, grinning as it looped tightly around Bucky's wrist.
His eyes widened as Bucky shot him a dangerous smirk, twisted his arm, and caught the whip in his hand. It sizzled and sparked, but otherwise the metal remained undamaged. With a sharp yank, it went flying from the doctor's hand and over Bucky's shoulder; ducking as it snapped near me, I watched in surprise as it dissolved into thin air.
"Bucky, he fixed it!" I exclaimed, tearing my eyes from their battle to stare in wonder at my bare, unblemished hand. Wiggling my fingers, only the pain in my forearm remained; the sharp sting in my fingers and palm was a distant memory. "Seriously, Bucky, stop! I'm alright!"
The soldier's head snapped around, brow furrowed in confusion, and he shot the doctor a perplexed frown. His arm slowly lowered and Strange regarded him skeptically, chest heaving, "You done?"
Bucky glanced hastily at me and I nodded, assuring him, "It's okay. I'm okay. You two gonna stop trying to kill each other?"
They shared a suspicious glance, but neither made a move to attack the other and I exhaled shakily in relief. There wasn't much I would have been able to do to separate them; without a weapon, I was severely outmatched against the super soldier and the Sorcerer Supreme.
Not that I would have wanted to draw a weapon on either of them; and how would I have explained to Nat that I shanked the man she sent to rescue Bucky and I from the streets of Romania?
At my assurance, the soldier's jaw clenched and he returned his attention to Strange; at his short, sharp nod, the doctor reluctantly lowered his defenses. Keeping an eye on him, Bucky hastened to my side, his bright, blue gaze widening in surprise as he took my hand in his.
"An apology would be fantastic," Strange huffed, giving the soldier a wide berth as he cautiously returned to my side. He didn't make to touch me again, lifting his chin and examining his work with a triumphant gleam in his eyes.
"What did you do?" Bucky inquired gruffly, turning my hand over in his, tracing my fingers softly. The action was so completely the opposite of his assault on Strange that the sorcerer could only stare at the pair of us, disbelief painted across his pointed face. He collected himself quickly and replied with a shrug, "It's a long and complicated process that you probably couldn't wrap your head around. Let's just stick with: it's magic. I reversed the injury to your hand, Charlie; made it like it never happened. No scars, no marks. I can fix your arm, too, and the bullet wound."
"Hell, if you can fix this, I'd take the bullet hole," I replied with a grin, settling myself gingerly on the edge of the mattress once again. Bucky dropped to his knees beside me as I extended my forearm to the doctor, ecstatic for him to work his magic once more.
The soldier rested a hand on my knee, squeezing reassuringly, and scowled at Steven, "Make it quick."
"I was going to," he retorted smartly, pulling up the green energy once more and opening his palm over my arm, "but you just-"
He didn't give me a chance to prepare, twisting his hand in the open air and sending the bones shifting and knitting themselves back together. Gritting my teeth, I winced and panted, though part of that was from the force of Bucky's fingers digging into my flesh.
In a moment, it was over and I pulled my now painless arm from the remainder of the splint. Flexing my fingers and twisting my wrist, I offered Strange an impressed grin as he went to work on my opposite arm, "Gotta hand it to you, Doc, you're one of the best I've ever been to."
Mending the bullet hole was easier than reassembling the broken bones, though the feeling of my flesh knitting itself together was more than a little uncomfortable.
He bowed shortly at the waist and shrugged, "I aim to please. Now, Natasha is waiting for us downstairs. Try not to attack her, if you could, Barnes."
The glare Bucky shot his way would have been more than enough to cow a lesser man, but Strange had faced much worse than an angry, protective super soldier in his relatively short stint as a superhero and couldn't manage much more than an unimpressed frown.
Though, to be honest, he didn't stick around to push the soldier further; he was a quick learner, that sorcerer.
When we found ourselves alone once more, Bucky settled onto the carpet between my legs and gathered my once busted hand in his. He turned it over in his hands prodding at my soft, unmarred flesh in wonder.
"It doesn't hurt?" He queried softly, drawing his semi-swollen lower lip between his teeth and worrying it slightly.
Though mildly distracted by his alluring action, I hummed negatively and mused, "Not in the slightest. Look, not even a scar. It's wild."
He dipped his head, pressing his lips to my healed skin and muttered, "I'm sorry."
"I know," I replied, relishing in the feel of his scruff against my flesh, "it's not your fault. It's not his, either, or mine. You just wanted to keep me safe; I know that. He didn't exactly explain what he was gonna do."
"You're sure you trust him?" Buck's eyes met mine, a hint of pleading flashing through them, as though he wanted nothing more than to turn our backs on Strange and Natasha and continue taking on the world on our own. With him, I could do it; he was a force of nature all on his own, but I couldn't deny our odds were better with more numbers on our side. If his attack on Strange didn't turn the doctor off of our alliance.
"Do you trust me?"
He lifted a brow, the words falling from his mouth without a hint of hesitation, "You know I do. If you trust him, I'll trust in you, but if there's even a hint of doubt in your mind-"
"We'll leave," I vowed, cupping his face; he nuzzled at my palm, eyes drifting shut, lashes fluttering against my skin. My heart leapt and I burrowed my fingers into his hair, grateful I was now able to do so and marveling at the soft strands beneath my touch.
He sighed against my flesh, pressing his lips to the inside of my wrist, a grin tugging at his mouth as my pulse jumped beneath his touch. A soft laugh escaped his lips and at my curious hum, he chuckled, "I'm glad I let you follow me home."
"I would've done it whether you wanted me to or not," I teased, drawing his head to my chest and hugging him tightly. He settled flush against me, his stomach pressed against the apex of my thighs, his metal arm snaked around my waist, his human one stretched across the expanse of my back. "I'm glad I let you follow me home."
Tilting his head, he stared up at me, the corners of his eyes crinkling as his voice reverberated through my chest, "I would've done it whether you wanted me to or not."
"Good," I laughed, softly grabbing a handful of his thick, dark locks and drawing him into a warm, sweet kiss.
Something between a hum and a moan escaped him and his fingers pressed persistently into my back, grasping for purchase as he succumbed to my charm.
I made him feel like him. Not the Winter Soldier, not some lost man trying to recover his uncertain past, but James Buchanan Barnes, the man that had flirted with the girls, palled around with his best friend, and went to war to defend his country from an enemy that I had only read about in history books.
James Buchanan Barnes, who I never would have met if not for the unfortunate past he had endured.
Though I despised the fact he had gone through it all, I couldn't help but be grateful we had crossed paths.
I was more than a little distracted from my thoughts when his lips left mine and his face fell to the crook of my neck. He buried his face in the soft flesh there, his nose nuzzling, his lips pressing the softest of kisses just beneath my jaw.
A shudder ran through me and I pressed myself against him, inhaling sharply and murmuring his name. He stiffened against me, his grip tightening and a low rumble catching in his throat. His kisses became more persistent, focusing on the junction between my jaw and ear, his fingers straying, searching. He leaned forward, pushing himself into my welcoming form, one hand reaching out to keep us from falling onto the mattress.
Not that I would have minded.
A sudden crackling sound filled the room and the doctor cleared his throat once more. Bucky reluctantly removed his lips from my body, sneering slightly at the intrusion, and tossed a dangerous glance over his shoulder.
Peering past him, I flipped Strange off as he stuck his head through one of his spiralling orange circles. I could see Natasha behind him, her forehead in her hand and a sigh escaping her lips, audible even from a distance.
At least she wasn't watching the pair of us in such a precarious position. Strange didn't look away, amusement glittering in his bright green eyes, as though he and Bucky hadn't almost gotten into a serious altercation.
"Didn't I mention Natasha waiting on us?" he inquired mockingly, "us usually entails more than just me."
Bucky rose to his feet, extending his metal hand to me and hauling me easily up from the bed. Resting his hand on the small of my back, he guided me toward the doorway, querying tightly, "Which way do we go?"
"Just use the portal," Strange replied with a wave of his hand, gesturing us forward, "don't need you getting lost in the Sanctorum, now do we?"
"I'd rather use the door," Bucky retorted hotly, but his lips pursed and he fell silent when I moved, intrigued, toward the portal. Only Strange's upper body hung through, but he was in the room. His other half was downstairs, presumably, in another room entirely separate from this one.
"C'mon, Buck, let's try it!" I grinned, catching his hand and dragging him toward the swirling portal, moving past Strange to poke a finger through. I heard Bucky make a noise of protest, but he didn't stop me; he may have disapproved, but he wouldn't interfere unless he thought my life was at risk.
Looking up at the soldier, I lifted a shoulder and wiggled my brows in excitement, "Please? It's how we got here in the first place; it's safe. And I don't really want to get lost in here; I've heard of some of the shit he keeps in this place and I'd rather not get hurt again."
Bucky folded his arms across his chest, looking for all the world like he wanted to argue, but he didn't. Instead, he nodded once and the doctor took a step back, allowing us room to enter the portal. The super soldier lifted a brow and caught my elbow, questioning hopefully, "Let me go first?"
It would make him feel better, I knew, so I offered him a soft smile and moved aside; he slung a leg through the portal and ducked his head, half his body still in my bedroom. He peered through the other room, eyes searching, before he followed through and slipped fully out of sight. Hastening back to the portal, I stood before it and watched Bucky look about him, impressed, a grin tugging at my lips.
Excited, I followed him, hopping gingerly through the sparking circle and into the room downstairs. Strange immediately allowed the portal to drop, the sight of my room disappearing completely.
The room we found ourselves in was large and open, a sort of living room with outdated furniture and a coat of arms in the corner. A fire roared in a massive, marble grate along the northern wall and I moved toward it, holding out my hands and enjoying the warmth. Casting a glance around the room, I watched Bucky move toward a wide window, tugging the heavy, navy curtain back. His jaw dropped and he peered up and down the street, wonderment coloring his features as he stared at what I assumed was a bustling New York avenue.
"Thanks for finally joining us," Natasha mused dryly, though she was smirking good-naturedly, falling into a chair and kicking one leg up over the other.
"You're most welcome," I retorted with a wink, turning my back to the fire and enjoying the warmth, "have you found anything out about Mr. W?"
"God, give me time, woman," she huffed, blinking rapidly, "you told me about it this morning. I'm good, but I'm not a miracle worker."
"That's not what I heard," Strange supplied, approaching the table but refusing to sit. His eyes fell to the soldier, who felt his gaze immediately and tensed. His eyes darted suspiciously toward the two strangers in the room, sizing them up once more, before falling to me in askance.
Instead of joining them, I moved across the room slowly, still bruised and limping, to stand beside my soldier. I peered past his arm, where he still had the curtain tucked back, and met his gaze in amusement, "Told you we were in New York."
"Yeah, yeah," he chanced a smirk, before letting the cloth fall back into place and turning his back to the glass, folding his arms tightly across his chest. His feet spread wide, he rounded on the assassin and the doctor, querying in an authoritative tone, "Did either of you recognize any of those men?"
"The people I deal with are a little more flamboyant than them," Strange replied with a shake of his head, "matching black Under Armour isn't really their style."
"And they had guns," Nat threw in, green eyes flitting between Bucky and I, "not really the mystic arts. I didn't recognize any of them, though; all pretty non-descript, no one stood out. Maybe low level, maybe off the street hired. I'm sure when I do a facial recognition scan, I should be able to pick out a few, but I need to go back to the tower to do that. And don't you think they'll will wonder what I'm up to? Tony? Steve?"
Bucky went rigid at my side, his fingers clenching his torn jeans in his fists; peering up at him, I frowned at the momentary panic that flashed through his gaze. Though he was remembering things little by little, mostly of Steve and their past together, he wasn't ready to see his old friend once again. To see Steve, looking so damn hopeful that they could return to a life that Bucky didn't think he could ever go back to; he had told me so himself. Well, he had told Frumuseţe as much. He was worried that he would disappoint the captain, that he wouldn't live up to the expectations he knew Steve Rogers had for him despite the Winter Soldier nearly obliterating him in DC.
He was too good, Bucky had said, and while he might have been that way himself once upon a time, he didn't feel that way anymore.
Except with me.
The thought warmed me and I felt my cheeks flush; instead of addressing it, though, I returned my attention to Natasha and clicked my tongue, "Just tell them I asked you to look into something for me. Why complicate things by dragging Bucky into it?"
"If he's innocent, what difference will it make?" Strange queried curiously.
Even Nat shot him an incredulous look and he raised his hands in surrender, "Alright, so I have no idea about any of your backstories. I was a bit busy having my life destroyed, learning magic, stopping world-ending events from happening… Sorry I asked."
Rolling my eyes, I shook my head, "We're keeping him out of this for now. Shit will go down if they're not eased into the idea. All they need to know is something came up - which Tony's already aware of - and I need you to look into some douchebags who were giving me a hassle. If things get worse-," I pointedly ignored Strange's, 'they already have,' "we can let them in on it, but there's no point in telling any of them what's really going on yet."
"When Steve finds out-," Natasha warned, but the super soldier interrupted her quietly, "I'll handle it. I'm the reason we're not involving him anyway. We don't even really know what is going on yet, though, other than a man who has a lot of resources and connections has a grudge against Charlie. But if you really think involving Steve will make a difference, then tell him."
Though Natasha didn't appear to be overly enthused about agreeing with Bucky, she said nothing, obviously unable to find fault with his argument. Drumming her fingers against her thigh, she exhaled heavily and mused, "Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to keep them out of the loop. For now. Let me see what I can find on these guys. You still have files at your place, right? I don't want to double up; you check out what you have, text me which cases you've looked at, and after I look through a few thousand faces, and I'll look at what's left in the tower for this Mr. W. If anyone asks, I'll tell them you got into it with a couple small-time crooks and you just want some intel in case you walk in on some bigger operation without backup. That'll keep Fury off your ass, too. He still wants an update on the Winter Soldier case, by the way, so you better give him something, even if it's nothing."
I felt Bucky's gaze fall on me, but I simply agreed and queried, "Steven, how far are we from 5th and Ash?"
"Why in God's name would you want to go there?" he inquired with a scoff, "that place is a rat-infested cesspool of-"
"Careful, Strange," I warned, quirking a dangerous brow, "we can't all live in Sanctorums, now can we?"
"It's not far," he replied with a disgruntled huff, lifting his hand, fingers crooked and curled, while the other began a spiraling motion, "describe it to me. I can get you there in a moment."
"We should just go there," Bucky interrupted, pushing away from the wall and approaching the table. One hand on his hip, he raked the other through his hair, apprehensive as all eyes turned to him. Scratching at the scruff of his jaw, he tipped his head in thought and explained, "If they know we're here, it's better to draw them out. If we go to her apartment your way-," he cast Strange an unhappy glance, "they may not see us, but we won't see them. If Charlie and I go, and you two follow, at least we'll have backup if something happens. We need to see if they're casing her apartment or not."
"It will tell us if they still think we're in Romania or not," I agreed, "or if they're on top of things and waiting for us. If they still think we're in Europe, we've got time to get ahead of them."
"Alright," Natasha nodded reluctantly, "it's probably fifteen minutes to your apartment from here. I'll call a cab."
"We can just walk," I replied, shaking my head and folding my arms across my chest, "we don't want them connecting the dots between us before we can figure out who they are. They already have the jump on us as it is; I don't want to make it worse."
"Seriously, Toto?" the redhead queried sarcastically, "you really think you can walk all the way there? We're uptown. A fifteen minute car ride is like an hour walk in your condition. Barnes, talk some sense into this mutt."
Sticking my tongue out at her, I turned to Bucky, batting my lashes innocently, hopefully, though his grimace and quirked brow were enough to tell me I was on the losing side of the battle. His clear, blue eyes may have glittered in amusement at Nat's nickname for me, but he frowned dispassionately and agreed, "You're not well enough, yet, Charlie. We'll take a cab, go to your apartment; if it's safe, we could even stay there."
"No, no offense, Barnes, but after the shit you pulled upstairs with Strange…," the assassin let out a huffing, sarcastic laugh, "you're coming back here when you get the files."
"You're locking us up, Nat, really?" I gaped, stepping toward Bucky and positioning myself in front of the super soldier as though I could protect him from Natasha's assessment, "really? You said you trusted me. He was protecting me! Strange coulda said something-"
"I didn't think I had to announce my every move-," Strange grumbled in aggravation.
"I do," she interrupted us quickly, harshly, eyes flitting quickly toward the man at my back and her tone softening, "but that's not enough, Charlie. Sorry. And it's not like you'll be locked up. Did you see the size of your size of this place? Even your room is like, two times the size of your apartment."
"How long are we supposed to stay here?" Bucky queried sharply, his metal fingers curling around my waist as he stepped up beside me. His jaw clenched wildly, but he didn't shoot down her order, willing to play her game. Whether it was because we were safer here than on the streets or because he wanted to prove that he wasn't just the violent Winter Soldier she believed him to be, I couldn't be sure.
"Until we say," Strange replied, shrugging in a 'take it or leave it' sort of way, and I couldn't help but curse under my breath. He heard, clicking his tongue and informing me with a sigh, "We have to know for sure whether he's a threat or not. You may not think he is, and we may trust you, but we don't know him like you do. And he did attack me, whether he was protecting you or not. Think of it this way; wouldn't you rather have two other people backing you up when Fury inevitably finds out you've been helping the Winter Soldier?"
Fuck him, using my own damn argument against me, I grumbled to myself, turning and leaning against Bucky. The soldier met my unhappy, questioning glance, and nodded once. Gnawing anxiously on my lip, I queried softly, "You sure?"
"It's alright, Frumuseţe," he answered with a fleeting grin, his warm, calloused fingers softly stroking my cheek, "you're still healing. And they're not wrong. I'll take a few babysitters, if it means we don't have to look over our shoulders every ten minutes while we figure this out."
"And after?"
He scanned the high-vaulted ceiling as though it had the answers, before dropping his mouth to my ear and muttering, "I guess we'll see."
"Alright, let's get going," Strange looked between the pair of us and feigned a shudder. A smirk painted his lips as I scowled up at him, a flush coloring my face, though I refused to step away from the soldier. The doctor raised his hands in surrender and snorted, "I'll call a cab. If it makes you feel any better, there's a coffee shop down on the corner; you could take it from there. Just in case the cabbie is in on it."
"Hey, you never know," I retorted poignantly, "sometimes it's the ones hiding in plain sight. Can't even trust the cabbies."
"I second that," Natasha grumbled, glancing hastily out of the window, scanning the streets with a trained eye, "I'll head over there first. You two follow in five. Strange, give it ten."
"You got it, warden," I saluted the redhead; she narrowed one eye in agitation, but slipped silently out of the Sanctorum without another word. Exhaling heavily, I turned to Bucky. His eyes were on the doctor, a mixture of distrust and grudging respect coloring his gaze. He felt my eyes on him and peered down at me, lifting a questioning brow.
With a hasty glance at Strange, I caught Bucky's hand and tugged him toward the empty fireplace; when I was certain the sorcerer wouldn't be eavesdropping anytime soon, I pressed myself closer to the soldier. He shifted, shielding me from Strange and ducked his head, querying urgently, "What? What's wrong? Do you-"
"Bucky, you don't have to stay here," I muttered, gazing suspiciously over his shoulder, "you don't have to. You can leave; I can hold off Nat, as long as Strange doesn't use-"
A wounded frown crossed the soldier's face and he pulled back, tilting his head in confusion, "You want me to leave?"
Shaking my head fervently, I offered him a disbelieving frown, "No. Of course not. But I don't want you trapped here. What if they tell Fury about you?"
"Do you think they will?"
"No, it's not-," I replied, rolling my shoulders and chewing on my thumbnail, "Nat is one of my best friends, but she was always one of the best at SHIELD for a reason. I don't want to think she'd turn you in, but-"
"If she does, she does," Bucky answered, his tone soft, reassuring. He lifted his metal hand, catching my chin and grinning softly, sadly, to himself. "You can't tell me I wouldn't deserve it. But I don't think she will. You know why?"
I lifted a brow in question and he assured me, "Because she does trust you. I've been trained to catch even the smallest lie; she was being honest with you. She believes that you believe in me and she's going to give me a chance. Because of you. Even if I am 'locked up.' She'll keep me a secret if that's what you want and I don't pose a threat. And, if, when I meet Steve again, when I meet Stark's son, they want to take me in, I'll go."
Exhaling heavily, I hooked an arm around the soldier's lean waist and hugged him. He melded into my hold, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. Resting my chin on his chest, I stared up at him and warned him warily, "I won't let 'em take you without a fight, Bucky."
He smiled, a broad, beautiful thing, and molded his lips to my forehead, "I'm countin' on it, doll."
"God, I wasn't expecting the two of you to be so couple-y," Strange mused, glancing between the pair of us. Despite his words, there was no malice behind them and he fought to hide a grin.
Neither was I, honestly, but I sure as hell wasn't complaining. Bucky had been hesitant around me when he first realized I wasn't just a dog, when he learned I was actually a woman, but his attraction to me and his swarthy forties persona making its re-emergence dampened that apprehension.
And I was more than a little excited to see where that would lead.
"Yeah?" I queried with a laugh, easing myself out of Bucky's grasp and folding my arms over my chest. Cocking out a hip, I challenged, "I'm scared; what were you expecting?"
"I was expecting you to be all psycho murder-bot," he willingly supplied, glancing pointedly at the soldier, "though, gotta admit, you came close upstairs. And you," he turned to me, shrugging slightly, "I thought you'd be this annoying, yappy little brat with dog ears and a tail."
"Sorry to disappoint," Bucky replied dryly, though his narrowed gaze fell on me and I had the feeling he was imagining me the was Strange did. He had to have been, if the smirk that graced his face meant anything.
The doctor shrugged, lifting his trembling hands and announcing with a wry grin, "Ah, I'm used to disappointment. You better head over there; I don't want Natasha on my ass… well, actually-"
"Hold that thought," I snorted, glancing up at Bucky, jerking my head toward the door, "let's do this before he finishes that sentence."
The tips of Bucky's ears were tinted red, an uncomfortable grimace crossing his face; he pointedly ignored Steven's belly laugh, jaw clenching as he led me toward the massive, double doors leading out onto the street.
He shoved one open easily with his silver shoulder, peering long and hard up one side of the street and down the other. I stepped up beside him, ducking my head beneath his arm and scouring the neighborhood for any sign of those goddamn men in black.
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary; nobody lingering in a suspiciously innocent manner across the street, no one staring awkwardly at the Sanctorum, no flash of a sniper lurking on a rooftop. Hell, no one seemed to even give the massive, old mansion smack dab in the middle of Bleecker Street a passing glance. That was one good thing about the people in this city; most of them just went about their business and ignored everything around them. It was a helluva lot easier to pick out someone who was tailing you in a place like that.
"Looks like we're in the clear," I muttered, pointing at a cute, quaint building at the end of the street, "there's the cafe."
Bucky didn't say anything for a moment, but continued his perusal of the busy road. I didn't push him; if anything, I trusted his judgment far more than mine. He was used to being on the run, shielding himself from those who might be hunting him. He was in his element and if he didn't feel confident skipping out into the open, I would wait until he did.
Bucky skipping…, I snorted, hiding a giggle behind my hand, I'd pay to see that.
When he, too, deemed it safe, he caught my hand, twining our fingers together before taking off down the street. The cafe was visible from the Sanctorum, which also meant that the Sanctorum was visible from the cafe and one of Mr. W's lackeys could have easily been scoping the place out since we had arrived.
But Natasha was there and she would have let us know if there was a threat lurking in the innocuous shop, whether she trusted Bucky or not. I may not have had a phone on me, but she certainly would have told Strange before we left the building and he would have stopped us.
Speaking of the redhead, she was lingering inconspicuously outside of the cafe, a drink in hand. She lowered her sunglasses, surveying the area, before she returned her attention to me, "No creepers in there. Streets looked clear, too, but I'm sure you already noticed that. Strange coming?"
I nodded, extending my hand and agreeing, "As far as I know. I think he's into you, Nat."
She smirked and quirked a brow, passing the cappuccino over to me and allowing me to take a sip, "I think so, too. Don't think Bruce would be too happy if he found out."
A surprised noise escaped Bucky and we both turned to the soldier. He had torn his eyes away from his intense perusal of the street to regard Nat in surprise, querying, "Banner?"
"Yeah, he's her boytoy," I snickered, reluctantly offering her drink back to her.
"Watch yourself, Charlotte," Nat warned, though she waved away the cappuccino, smirking, "I got that for you anyway. Figured you could use it. Sorry, Barnes; I wasn't sure what you'd want."
He shrugged silently, accepting the drink from me and taking a sip; grimacing, he offered it back to me and muttered, "Never again."
I caught Nat smirk out of the corner of my eye and hoped that she would realize quickly that Bucky wasn't the risk they thought he was. Instead of commenting on the soldier's distaste for sweetened coffee, she tipped her head toward the street and noted, "There's your cab, and Strange."
The yellow taxi pulled up to the curb, the extravagantly-dressed doctor following at a less than obvious distance.
"Couldn't he have changed?" the assassin queried with a sigh.
Bucky and I approached the cab, the soldier waiting by the door as I smirked, "He was a high profile doctor and now he's a magician. He doesn't know the meaning of stealth."
She snorted and rolled her eyes, nodding as I lifted my drink in thanks, "Strange and I will follow and keep an eye on your complex. Make sure no one goes in or out without you or us knowing."
"Alright, we'll meet up with you when we get the files," I replied, grinning up at Bucky as he opened the door and gestured with a small smile for me to get in.
"Where to?"
Settling back in the torn, stained seat, I replied stoically, "Hell's Kitchen."
/
Please review! :D
DarylDixon'sLover: ;)
Lara Barnes: yes! I'm so glad! Haha I hope you liked this chapter too!
Karina001: haha yeah, I thought it might be fitting.
Aandm20: I went with the reverse time manipulation! I thought about the fast forward but wanted to do the reversal.
KnowInsight: Yeah I think Strange is just too used to doing what he wants and expecting everyone to just go with it. Not the best choice with Bucky lol. Yeah, agreed, it always causes problems! I'm so glad you liked it! It made me smile when I wrote it haha.
Pichounette: Yes! I'm glad you liked it! I've been waiting for it since the beginning haha, I was so excited to write it!
When I Make It Shine: Yay! I know, it's so exciting lol. Thanks! :D
Shika93: thank you so much!