Summary: Bucky surprises Steve and plans are made. Big plans. Totally NOT date plans.
Notes: Apparently I have a thing for Natasha betting on Steve & Bucky. Hey, what can I say? A lady's gotta have a hobby.
-o-
Steve was the second person to arrive for lunch at the small cafe in the center of town. He spotted Peggy's neatly-curled hair and as he sat, noted the offending streak of grey hair tucked behind one ear, stark against the rest of the dark brown. She smiled as she caught him looking.
"As I said, one Stark's a handful enough," she unfolded her napkin and draped it over her lap. "With two, I feel completely mad."
She took a long drink of her mimosa in preparation for her next point. Only Steve could differentiate between her drinking styles after many years of friendship.
"Now, I'd like for you to imagine Howard, but in child form. So, Tony may be the culprit most of the time, but really it's all Howard's fault for encouraging it."
Steve shook his head, having had his fair share of dealings with Peggy's coworker; for a time he'd worked for him before he decided Howard was the handful he didn't feel like dealing with. Peggy had more patience to continually put him in his place-more like she got a kick out of it-so she'd stayed on at Stark Industries.
"But how are you? You look happier than I've seen in a while," she peered at him over the top of her glass.
"I've been working on commissions," Steve tried to keep his voice even. "Discovered a new hangout. Record shop nearby."
"Oh?" Peggy raised her eyebrows. "Sounds interesting. I know your collection is happy."
"Actually, yeah. I never had Billie Holiday stuff before but a guy there recommended it. Now I'm wondering how I ever survived without her."
Peggy's smile turned into a full-on grin and she poured more mimosa for Steve.
"She's lovely. I need to thank this music recommender for giving you better taste."
"Excuse me-"
"You've made a new friend, I assume," she interrupted, folding her arms to lean on her elbows. "Sounds like he's right up your alley."
Steve marveled but simultaneously felt a little annoyed at her ability to zone in on things so well. Right up his alley? What was that supposed to mean?
"Yeah, he is," he answered a little too quickly before adding, "just a new friend. He works there, we just got to talking."
"Good, you need more local friends," her smile tilted with a hint of mischief. "I know you like being alone, but being alone too much can be bad too."
"Actually, I've gotta meet him sometime today." He said somewhat defensively.
"Is that so? Well, I won't keep you waiting. I've got a meeting with the HQ director to discuss transferring here again. I've got my eye on building another base."
They enjoyed their food and plenty of mimosas, chatting about relatively insignificant things until it was time to stand, leaving their tips and signed receipts before stepping into the bright, cold afternoon.
"Don't 'just a friend' me, either. I can tell by the way you look when you talk about him." She didn't allow him a word in edgewise. "I expect more details to judge him by next time."
"Anyway, good luck with the transfer."
"You know I'm right!" She laughed as she waved and climbed into her rental car, speeding off.
Steve drove to Revolutions, though not sure if they were open yet. The sign wasn't lit up, but he noticed Bucky by the front counter, restocking the albums on the displays. He thought he might get a buddy exception so he approached the door anyway and knocked with the tip of his key. His hunch was right and Bucky threw open the door with a grin, ushering him inside. It was mostly dark aside from the window and the two lights in the back of the store; as a result shadows danced across their faces, cut by the sunlight streaming through the glass.
"Do you let all your customers in early?" Steve plucked a few albums out of the new shipment pile and organized them on the wire rack.
"Only the ones who offer free labor. As it so happens, today's shipment day. And that means you've got something somewhere in here. Just gotta get to it."
"Oh," Steve felt flustered. "Same price as the other?"
"No, on the house." Bucky paused in arranging briefly, looking up at him. "I wanted you to have your own copy. Not that your collection's not great, but I dunno. If you don't want it-"
"Of course I do," Steve interjected, cheeks burning. "I just wasn't expecting-at all-"
"Good. That was the plan."
Bucky laughed and pulled out the vinyl in question. It looked identical to the one he'd lent Steve (though Steve had no idea why it would be different). It made him feel even closer to Bucky, but it could've been something he just did for new friends. Initiating them in the art of Billie Holiday's live performances. (Right-how likely was that? But he refused to get his hopes up.)
"Had to look a little longer than usual for it, but I finally found a near-mint. I want you to get as much enjoyment as I have outta mine."
Then again, maybe it wasn't a typical thing if he'd had to spend more effort than usual to find a copy. He held the vinyl out, eyes locking with Steve's. A smile Steve couldn't interpret tugged at the corner of Bucky's lips but he tried not to stare at them. When he grasped the vinyl neither moved as they shared a seemingly silent understand of holding onto the record, the lifeline between them. Time seemed to stretch out into eternal nothingness, something no longer relevant to their lives or anything Steve was remotely worried about.
"Um," he began stupidly.
"D'you-" Bucky started.
"I don't remember placing a help wanted ad."
A dry, deep but feminine voice cut off the sentences, left hanging open between their voices and they broke apart finally. Steve clasped the record to his chest while Bucky's hand dropped to a record inside the box.
"Natasha," Bucky greeted in the same deadpan tone she'd used. "You're here early. First time since we've known each other, isn't it?"
"Don't pull that crap, James."
"James…?" Had he lied about his name? Was he worried Steve would stalk him? Maybe he really was worried about somebody from his old life finding him.
"Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes," Bucky cast a wry look at him (and there went Steve's last theory). "Nat met me when I was in the service. You didn't think Bucky was a name a mother would seriously give her kid, do you? Mine apparently had a thing for presidents."
Steve laughed; Natasha smirked (so, the usual by now).
"Well, no. It's just now you're three different names to me."
"Hm, well, sorry to interrupt this little store meeting and all," Natasha shook a paper bag. "Got a bagel here I gotta go enjoy, so you two can get back to your, uh-gift exchange."
She marched off toward the tiny office and shut the door with a loud click, the blinds flipping shut instantly (pointedly).
"Before you think she's giving you a hard time, she's always like that," Bucky snorted, bending again to grab more records. He placed them on the display more quickly than before. "I really prefer Bucky."
"Bucky it is."
They stood for a moment in silence, seemingly out of words (or at least the ones Steve felt like he could voice).
"Thanks. I don't really know what to say," Steve finally managed. "You sure I don't need to pay?"
"Well, on second thought, yeah, but on one condition."
Steve swallowed hard but his throat still felt tight.
"Name it."
"Drinks at that new place on Seaside. The Blue Diamond or whatever. Bartender's a regular here so it'll be guaranteed cheap but good, at least that's what he tells me."
"Yeah, sounds great."
"Call me when you wanna go." He clapped Steve on the upper arm and Steve offered a shaky smile.
"How soon is too soon?" he asked before he could stop himself.
"Never too soon to see you again."
What? There was no way he'd heard Bucky right but the other man's smile never wavered and he hadn't sounded sarcastic. Steve couldn't envision a world in which Bucky had actually taken an interest in him more than he'd previously thought, but it seemed to be happening before his eyes.
"What about Saturday?" Bucky continued.
"That sounds awesome." Nope. He definitely wasn't dreaming.
"Great. Give me a call at the usual time."
Steve felt stunned the whole drive home and immediately on arrival, he placed the record on the turntable. He was sure it'd be a while before he listened to anything else, so he took a seat at the art table and set out to draw to the tunes he could sing in his sleep. After a few warm-up sketches he settled on what was quickly becoming his favorite subject. He worked on sketches of him in the office, leaning back with his feet up on the desk and fingers laced behind his head.
He thought about the things Bucky might think and/or say if he saw the level of detail in the drawings. The laced-up boots and light playing across the dog tags, which he drew over the shirt this time, hair tucked behind Bucky's left ear, the different plates of the arm he had only seen for a few moments. This time he totally left Natasha out of his subjects, though he could picture her smirking clearly. She knew, Peggy knew...was he that obvious? Or was Bucky around Natasha?
Not a chance, he chided. Peggy had always been able to read him easily, and Natasha was just that way, according to Bucky (though Steve had suspected a smidge of bullshit in that attempt at reassurance).
"Never too soon to see you again" replayed in Steve's mind over and over-the way Bucky had said it, the inflection of his voice. It had been spoken more softly, maybe because of Natasha's presence (even as she seemingly ignored them, tucked away in the office), and Steve had just barely resisted stepping in closer under the pretense of hearing him better. Naturally he started worrying about lack of inhibition in terms of saying what was on his mind if he had too much at the Blue Diamond "or whatever."
He'd worry about that when it came. At least he was improving in his acceptance of the inevitable.
-o-
"When's your date again?"
Bucky jumped, hand going to the knife tucked away at his waistband on instinct as Natasha snuck up behind him.
"You know not to do that."
"My bad," she snorted. "You also know I'd kick your ass before you could do anything."
"Point. What's your other point?"
She hoisted herself up onto the counter, pressing her palms onto it between her knees.
"My point is, when is your next date with Stevie?"
"It's not a date. You and Sam conspiring?"
"Even better. We're betting."
He straightened, careful to hold the record in hand carefully with the left, in case he snapped it.
"Uh?"
"He thought you would ask him out within a week. I won." She announced proudly. "You gotta step your game up, though. He's obviously into you too."
"I don't need this middle-school crap," he grumbled. "Especially not from you."
"I'm just trying to help you," she waved a hand, "and my wallet, but that's just a bonus. Mostly for your lonely soul."
"Lonely, my ass."
"That too."
"Natalia, please find something to do."
-o-
"Time to pay up, sucker," Natasha announced over the phone later that afternoon.
"Damn," Sam didn't bother keeping the disappointment out of his voice. "But really, he already did it?"
"We need to stop underestimating him," Nat's own voice turned serious. "He's obviously on it. Steve was in the store when I got there. We weren't even open yet, but he and Bucky were having a moment."
"Seriously? A moment?" he laughed. "The hell is that?"
"I dunno, both holding a record like they were on the sinking Titanic or something. It looked real dramatic, but from what I understand I think Bucky was a casanova before the service. I'm sure he's still got got some tricks."
"That's a funny thought," Sam said, then suddenly, "Wait-he's calling me. I'll call you back to settle the bet."
"Yeah, Wilson, you're not getting out of it this time."
-o-
Sam answered the other line to be greeted by a single request (without the inflection of a question).
"You're coming with me Saturday." Bucky's voice was a little tighter than usual, and Sam wondered if he could hear the smirk in his own voice in his playing-dumb reply.
"What's Saturday?"
"Sam."
"Ohhh, the date."
"NOT a date. How is it a date if you're there?"
"You have so much to learn, man," Sam shook his head, even though Bucky couldn't see it. "I know you're getting used to the real world again and all that, but you once played the game. I don't think they got that part of you."
Bucky paused in silence, and Sam was sure he could hear him drumming his fingers on a tabletop.
"I dunno about that," he finally replied. "If you really don't wanna go-"
"Are you kidding? I'm dying to see Bucky Barnes on a date!"
"It's. Not. A. Date. Casual hanging out. Don't push your luck."
"Am I coming over early to do your hair? Pick out your outfit?"
"I'm gonna-"
"-enjoy the shit outta yourself." Sam raised his voice over Bucky's. "We are gonna have a great time, regardless. But I got a feeling you and Steve will be justfine."
-o-