A Scavenging Hero

Bucky/Claire Temple

WinterNurse

Theme song:

James Bay - Scars

Claire burst out laughing as Trish finished her story. She had a low, throaty chuckle that was almost drowned out by Jessica's raucous cackle and Karen's joyous peals of laughter, not that she cared.

"Let me get you another drink, Claire," Jessica stood and moved towards the bar, but Claire shook her head, putting a hand on her friend's wrist.

"I'm good, Jess, honestly. You might be rock-steady on your feet but I'm not nearly as hardened a drinker as you are and I have to work tomorrow, I'm on at six."

"You sure?" Jessica checked.

"I'm sure. Thanks, though."

"Stay a little longer?" Karen entreated with her sweet smile, and Claire smiled back.

"If Luke will pour me something non-alcoholic?" she said, her voice no louder than normal, and from the corner of her eye saw Matt raise a finger to Luke, speak to him. A few seconds later Foggy delivered her a glass of lemonade with several chunks of ice and a wedge of lime in it.

Claire sat back with the glass and smiled around at her friends. She'd never thought that getting mixed up with the superhero crowd would lead to her making three of the best female friends she'd ever had. And a bunch of male friends who all seemed to act like her overprotective big brothers, but that was definitely secondary.

Karen swayed into Claire, who put a steadying arm around her shoulders. "Easy there, Red. I think you've had enough."

"Probably," Karen giggled, and then whispered loudly into Claire's ear, "Enough that I'm going to go home with Foggy again tonight."

"Don't know why you don't just bite the bullet and move in with him," Trish slurred, waving her glass in Karen's direction. "Foggy's a keeper."

"He hasn't invited me…"

All three of the other women, older and more worldly-wise than Karen, snorted at that.

"Foggy's not confident enough. He'd be convinced you'll say no," Jessica said. "Just move in. We'll help."

"Yeah, you can carry all the heavy boxes. At once," Trish teased, making them all laugh again.

Luke came over to the table, grinning. "Well, I can hear you ladies are all having a wonderful time, but I gotta stop serving drinks now."

"Awww," Jessica complained.

"I've got another bottle for us upstairs, sugar," he consoled her, slipping an arm around her waist. which made her smile a little bashfully, still embarrassed about open displays of affection in front of others.

"I've got to go, anyway," Trish sighed. "I'm on air tomorrow." She stood, tottering slightly. Matt moved up silently behind her and put a steadying hand under her elbow. "Foggy, Karen, you want to share a cab, as far as your place?"

"Um, sure," Foggy said with a bemused smile as Karen weaved her way over to him and put her arms around his neck, smiling happily up at him. "Sounds good…"

"I'll walk you home, Claire," Matt offered as they headed for the door.

"I'm sure you've got something else to be doing?" she offered him a quizzical glance. "And my apartment's in the opposite direction to yours. It's only two blocks."

"There is a new sweatshop I was thinking of checking out," he confessed, a little sheepishly.

"Go, then." She leaned up and kissed his cheek affectionately. "I'll be fine, Matt. You'll hear if I'm not anyway. Go suit up."

He knew her well enough by now not to argue. Just smiled at her and turned away, disappearing almost instantly into a darkened alley. She really didn't want to see him scaling a wall like a spider, so she turned her back as well and headed back towards her apartment.

Some women might have been nervous about walking alone through Hell's Kitchen, but Claire Temple, nurse and friend to superheroes, walked with calm, unhurried confidence, her head held high. Shadows in alleys, who might have approached had she looked like an easy victim, held their peace.

She was just walking up to her building when a noise to her left alerted her. Claire glanced into the alley with a jaundiced eye; at least it wouldn't be Matt in her dumpster this time.

There was a homeless guy scavenging in it instead. Ordinarily, she'd have put her head down and walked on, but she recognised the container of food he'd just pulled open.

And she was more than a little bit drunk.

"Oh God no, don't eat that!" Claire exclaimed, hurrying down the alley, grabbing the container out of the guy's hand. She hurled it back into the dumpster and tugged on his arm. "Come on upstairs. I should have thrown out that leftover Thai a week ago, I just found it mouldering in the back of the fridge this morning."

The homeless guy - who was a hell of a lot bigger and more cut than most of the hobos she saw around Hell's Kitchen - stared down at her from bright blue eyes as she opened the door to the building.

"Where are you taking me?" he asked in a low, soft voice.

Claire startled, looked up at him. "I… food. I can do better than dumpster food," she said, only then realising that she was about to take a completely unknown man up to her apartment.

A man who'd just said her soulmate words.

"I don't suppose you have a long rambling spiel about leftover Thai food written on you somewhere?" she asked a little dismally. Just my luck to find my soulmate scavenging for his dinner in my dumpster…

He nodded gravely, those amazing eyes fixed on hers. "I'm sorry," he said unexpectedly.

"No, no, don't be - don't be sorry." With a sigh, she started up the stairs. "Come on, then. Let me fix you something to eat."

"You shouldn't invite me up," he said, "I could be dangerous."

Claire turned on the steps, looking down at him, taking in his size, the breadth of his shoulders, the black leather gloves on his hands. "I have no doubt you are. Do you intend to hurt me?"

"Never."

The single word was said with such heartfelt sincerity that she smiled at him for the first time. "Then you'd better come on up. Do you like fajitas?"

"I don't know," was the response, the tone almost apologetic, "but I should like to try it."

Claire stared at him. "Where the hell are you from? That's a Brooklyn accent and you don't know if you like fajitas?"

"It's a long story."

"What's your name?" she thought to ask then. "I'm Claire."

He hesitated for a long moment before saying "James." And then he smiled, showing even and surprisingly white teeth. "It's very nice to meet you, Claire." Holding out his hand, he clearly expected her to take it, and when she did, startled her completely by lifting it to his lips for a kiss.

In her entire life, nobody, but nobody, had ever made such a gesture to Claire Temple, not with any sincerity, and certainly not with the sheer, unaffected ease that James did. Her whole demeanour softened, and she laughed, the carefree tones of a young girl.

"You're a charmer, I see. Come on up then, James. Let's find out whether you like fajitas or not."

(The Marvel Netflix Girl Gang are HIGHLY likely to reappear at some point, playing drinking games in Luke's bar and laughing like hyenas).