Chapter 27: Epilogue

Summary: The end. For now.

Notes: Well. Here we are. The end. Thought I'd tack on a little epilogue, have some fun with it. I love you all for reading and commenting and leaving kudos. You're all the best. Special shout-out to HeartOfHandprints for being my sounding board. You're awesome, girl! Again, thank you for reading, and bounce me any ideas you'd like to see for one-shots, etc. Would you guys like a Christmas one? Not sure what I'd do, yet, but if you guys want it, I can figure it out...Some incentive for some idea suggestions, I suppose...teehee. Until next time. Love you all! Sarah

((()))

"God, the last time I saw that it was from a distance while I was being shipped out."

Darcy looked up at the massive clock tower, and tried to muster a smile, but couldn't quite manage it.

"You know, the clock face isn't really Big Ben. The bell inside the tower is what's actually named. Bet you already knew that."

She nodded. "Mm. Really."

Suddenly her shoulder jostled and she was bumped to the side. Caught by surprise, she nearly crashed into the person sidestepping her on the London sidewalk, but a metal hand wrapped around her elbow and tugged her back upright. "Hey."

She jerked and frowned up at Bucky. "What was that for?"

The Winter Soldier gave her a stern look. "We're supposed to be having fun, not sulking."

She opened her mouth to retort with something snarky about how he wasn't supposed to talk to her like she was a child, but then she shut it, all arguments a moot point. Besides…he was right. "I'll…sulk all I want."

He smirked, but wouldn't let her off the hook. "C'mon. So Killian slipped through your fingers. We'll get him the next time."

She scowled at him. "How do you always read my mind?"

He gave her a wry look. "Babe, even if we weren't somehow connected since that trip into Inception, I can read your thoughts all over your face."

She sighed, deflating as she looked back up at London's Clock Tower in the distance. "Guess I just…panicked." A new font of shame washed over her, icy cold.

He tugged her under the overhang of the café they stood outside. Speedy's, it was called. "I'm glad you didn't kill him," he murmured softly, holding her gaze steady in his bright blue eyes.

She blinked, staring up at him in surprise. She still hadn't had the guts to tell him every detail of what had transpired that night two weeks ago, and she was positive she hadn't mentioned her almost killing Aldrich Killian. He'd been so pissed he'd slept through it, he'd snapped at Tony about how sound-proof he'd made all the Tower glass. "But how—"

"Again, Darce," he interrupted, smiling softly down at her. "I don't need to be Superman to see right through you sometimes." He glanced up at a passerby and frowned, but switched his attention back to her. "I meant what I said all those weeks ago in training: what he does next is on his soul, not yours. I'm glad you didn't kill him. You don't deserve any red in your ledger."

She swallowed hard, and nodded, making sure she was looking him right in the eyes.

He reached up to cup her face. "Take a deep breath."

Feeling a little silly, she did, pulling in a deep lungful of London fog. It was blanketing the street around them, painting everything a melancholy shade of picture perfect postcard scenery.

He nodded. "Good. Now let it out—and I want you to let this go. We live to fight another day, okay?"

She did so, letting it all huff out of her in a deep, open sigh. And he was right: she felt a little better.

They were in London.

Things were good. Nothing had blown up in the two weeks since everything had finally come to a close.

She had no real reason to sulk. She'd always wanted to sight-see in London and the last time she'd been here she'd been too busy running around like a chicken-with-its-head-cut-off to really have the time.

She was with her Jamie.

She smiled.

He gave her a wink. "Better. Now kiss me."

Giggling, she got up on her toes to press her mouth to his for a short moment of sweetness. He tasted like the Italian style espresso he'd had at breakfast back at Hotel 41, where they'd splurged on the suite with the glass ceiling.

Really, everything was perfect and she had no reason to complain. If she always expected the bad guys to cooperate, she was in the wrong line of work.

Tony had been fuming for days

But not at her, which he'd insisted over and over until he was blue in the face.

Steve had said he was proud of her for facing him at all.

She didn't give a flying fuck what Maria surely said about it all behind her back.

Natasha had teased that she'd made a rookie mistake, but told her that really, next time she and Killian met, it just meant that she got to have extra fun torturing him.

So Aldrich Killian was in the wind—

For now.

But Big Ben was just in front of her and really she figured she should shut up and enjoy it.

They took off down the street, Bucky's fingers searching out hers until they were laced between them.

They passed two men going the other direction, one on the left, with gorgeous dark skin and sharp sunglasses who gave her a little wink as he went by. Never mind that it wasn't sunny. His companion was in a leather jacket and had a backpack slung over one shoulder and a crew cut that made him look even tougher than he otherwise might, if not for his rather slight height.

When the man with the dog passed them by a second time, Bucky glared at the passerby he'd spied near the café.

The little brown and black dog the man was walking on a leash gave a little bark and was tugged patiently away in the other direction.

They stopped at the corner of the Parliament Building.

"I just love the Gothic Style," Darcy commented. "Don't you wanna just go up and touch it?"

Bucky chuckled. "I don't think they'd take too kindly to you doing that for long periods."

They continued on their way.

It had taken her a few days to work up the courage to broach the topic, but they'd finally discussed all the details of what each of them had seen there, in that strange dreamscape.

Bucky had been his usual open, honest self. He'd been particularly concerned that she'd had to get past the Winter Soldier in order to find him. Or, at least, that was his working theory. She was just glad she'd somehow earned his trust.

And, again, she was surprised by how much closer you could feel to someone else, when you already thought you were in a good place. It felt like they'd finally gotten back to their regularly scheduled program, but the time between had been filled with really great infomercials that had only enhanced the show, like a Behind the Scenes featurette.

"What about the museum?" a woman suggested behind them.

"Mm. Nah," her companion said.

The woman sighed and the audible sound of crackling paper was heard.

"You really need that tour guide book?" the man said, his voice wry. "You could be a tour guide yourself."

"Haven't spent much time here, actually," she commented. "More the…"

"Back alleys?"

She snorted. "Right. Anyway, we're blending in, remember?"

Bucky sighed and he shared a look with Darcy.

"I guess."

"C'mon," she tried again. "The museum's right down there. Let's go."

"I dunno…"

"This is supposed to be a vacation for us, remember? Not a job."

"Yeah, but what about—"

"Okay, the museum it is, then!" the woman interrupted.

Darcy glanced back to see her physically dragging her companion off, his Chucks leaving soft skid marks on the pavement.

"He's such a blockhead," Bucky muttered.

"Where to?" she asked.

He glanced up the street, then down. "Well. There's The Tower. Then there's that Tube ride you wanted to take. There's the museum—"

"Nope," she cut him off. "Later. Much later."

He laughed. "There's Buckingham Palace, if you really wanna be a typical tourist type?"

She squinted up into the dim haze. "Sure. I think we've got time before it rains. We could do the Sherlock Holmes thing tomorrow? You know, the whole fake 221B thing?"

He nodded. "Yeah, that'd be cool."

They continued on their way.

Darcy glanced around, rolling her eyes and trying to ignore the familiar faces just around them, hovering, but clearly trying not to hover.

Natasha was literally dragging Steve by one arm down the block.

Clint and Sam were acting like a couple of cool Air Force pilots in their shades and leather jackets as they patrolled up and down the block.

Dorks.

Tony kept circling with Max on his leash, coming way too close.

Never mind that they were all told, in no uncertain terms, to stay the fuck in Manhattan.

But…

She sort of loved it that they hadn't listened.

She smirked up at Bucky. "Hey."

He glanced down, his eyes shadowed by his baseball cap.

"They're all idiots, but I'm glad they're here."

He snorted, looking both ways at the corner. "As long as they don't follow us into our hotel room, I guess I can't complain. Tony took it way too far last night. Just because there's a second room in the suite doesn't mean he's sleeping in it. He tries that again, he's sleeping in that ridiculous Lambo he rented—and I don't care if supercars aren't made for overnight trips."

She laughed, but got up on her toes to kiss her husband. "Love you, Soldier Boy."

They crossed the street toward the Palace.

A dog barked softly behind them.

"Where you guys heading?" a voice spoke up behind them, totally casual.

Neither of them spoke.

"Hey, seriously. Barnes Squared, I want to make sure JARVIS can monitor you guys while I take Max for his lunch," Tony insisted, his voice low behind them.

Darcy shook her head.

They passed the Palace right by.

"Guys. Guys."

Bucky sighed. "How about anywhere but here?" he suggested.

Darcy tugged on his arm. "Love the way your mind works."