"How in the hell," Tony growled as the results of JARVIS' location scan came through. The blinking light that represented Pepper's location flashed on a holo-display over the quinjet's cockpit, "can Pepper be in Las Vegas? Who kidnaps someone and brings them to Las Vegas?" But even as he spoke, he was pressing buttons on the array of quinjet controls. Apparently he didn't disbelieve the scan, he was just in disbelief.
The metal panels of the quinjet shuddered under their feet as it came around to the new heading.
Bucky watched Tony carefully and caught Natasha doing the same. Tony was "nuclear pissed" as Clint had said. But he hadn't gone AWOL and flown out the jet the moment JARVIS announced he'd located Ms. Potts. Bucky was counting it as a win.
It didn't mean Bucky wouldn't watch Tony like a hawk, though. Someone was preparing a trap, and they were willingly flying right into it.
"Better question: How did she get from downtown LA to Las Vegas in twenty minutes?" Clint piped up from where he was affixing combustible arrowheads to some shafts. They all had their pre-battle warm ups. Beyond, Bruce was meditating on a woven grass mat, and Thor stalked back and forth, swinging his hammer.
Normally, Bucky liked to play cards with Natasha. Last time they'd played a mean game of Go Fish. Emphasis on mean.
Tony tapped a few buttons angrily, like he was trying to jab some sense into them. "I don't know, but these readings are conclusive. Ten minutes before she disappeared, Pep was in her office, and put in an order to her PA for a salad or some other kind of rabbit food. Then she fell off the map."
Bucky glanced at the clock. They still had an hour until the kidnapper's deadline. They were going to be cutting it close. "I don't suppose Sulu's invented transporter technology yet?"
"It's Scotty, not Sulu. You're killin' me, Barnes," Clint said with a long suffering look on his face.
Bucky knew that - he'd said it to get a rise out of Tony, but the other man hadn't reacted at all.
"Could you be getting a false reading?" Natasha asked.
Tony considered that for a moment, then shook his head. "No, she's there. The trace works. I may or may not have put a tracker in her last pair of expensive shoes - don't look at me like that, it was for legitimate beta testing purposes."
"I never figured you for the jealous type," Bucky said.
"I'm not- she wanted a pedometer and-" He shook his head, visibly pulling himself back on track. That wasn't like him at all. Then again, Tony Stark in battle was somewhat of a different beast than the regular annoying Tony Stark. "It's her. Or at least, her shoes. And have you ever tried to separate Pep from her shoes? You'd get one of those high heels in your eye."
"But how was she transported that quickly?" Natasha asked.
"That's the 64,000 dollar question," Bruce piped in, from his meditation mat.
"Chump change," Tony said, turning back to his console and muttering to JARVIS.
But again, the Iron Man helmet remained untouched, by his side. Bucky was glad. He moved to the back of the jet, wondering the same thing. Twenty minutes over that space of land? He doubted the kidnappers had quinjets of their own. Well, hopefully they'd knock some heads, rescue the girl, and all find out together.
They didn't knock heads. They didn't even get the opportunity.
According to Tony's information, Pepper was being held on the top floor of a high-rise so new it hadn't been completely finished. Bucky ordered Clint and Natasha to start from the bottom floor and sweep their way up - Thor, Bucky, and Tony would strike at the same time from the top, disabling whoever was holding Pepper.
They found her tied to the same chair as in the video, slightly fuzzy and confused from whatever drugs they'd used to transport her. She was utterly alone.
Natasha and Clint's sweeps also came up empty. Natasha found Bucky at the top floor, his worry reflected in her eyes.
"They brought us here for a reason," Natasha said. "Holding one of our own is a convenient way to get us out of the city."
Bucky nodded. "You can fly the quinjet. Take Bruce, Clint and Thor, and haul ass back to headquarters."
She nodded once. "What about Iron Man?"
"Pepper's going to need a minute. I'll stay and keep an eye on them, and we'll have SHIELD send us another jet." Bucky turned to the others. "Hawkeye, Thor, Bruce, you're with Widow. Go."
They were a good team. They did as they were told, and Bucky watched the quinjet take off from the roof of the building with a sense of pride, then returned downstairs to Tony and Pepper.
Pepper was sitting hunched over with a blanket over her shoulders that Tony had scrounged somewhere. Despite that, she was remarkably composed - there was steel in her spine.
Tony was more of a wreck than she was, and was fluttering around with a kind of manic energy that wasn't good for anyone.
"They didn't say what they wanted," he overheard her saying as he came close. "Or who they were with."
"Pepper - Pep. It's okay," Tony babbled. "They won't hurt you again-They won't even touch you, I swear to God, Pep."
Pepper held up a hand to stop him, and Tony's mouth shut with an audible click.
Bucky had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning.
"Can you describe them?" Bucky asked.
She started to shake her head, then sat straighter, pulling the blanket closer. She didn't look like she needed it, but she hadn't exactly rejected it, either. "They were speaking- I'm not sure - I think it was German? I was a little... drugged." She shook her head, confused, freckles standing out from pale cheeks.
German. Of course.
"There were four," she continued. "But all of them wore masks. The leader was the biggest - a blond guy. Huge."
"Great, so we're looking for Hans Gruber," Tony muttered, then glanced at Bucky. "That's a reference to-"
"Yeah, Die Hard," Bucky said, annoyed. "You and Clint made me watch it last winter, remember? Told me it was a Christmas movie."
Pepper shook her head again. She was blinking rapidly, clearly trying to fight off the effects of the drug. "There was something else - it sounded like they were using something like your suit."
Tony sucked in a half breath.
"What do you mean?" Bucky asked, turning back towards her.
"When the blond man grabbed me, it-He was too strong. It sounded like he was using augmented servos, like your Iron Man armor." She shook her head again, shuddering for the first time, and Tony bent down to her level to gather her into his arms.
"Give us a sec, Cap," Tony said.
Bucky nodded and took himself to the other side of the room. Pepper was okay, that was the important part. But the reason behind the kidnapping was a mystery. And why had they gone to all this trouble to give up the ghost so easily?
Maybe... they had wanted the Avengers all in one place as a distraction for something else? It was a possibility, and the reason he'd sent the others back to the mansion, but something didn't feel right.
Walking to a window, Bucky rested his hands on the sill and looked out, frowning at the vista below: The hot Las Vegas sun and the artificial glimmer of casino pools. Back in his day, Las Vegas was a rough town. Over the last few decades, they'd tried to make it family friendly, but he didn't buy it.
A glint caught his eye. A lone figure stood on the roof of the next building over. Even from a distance, Bucky could see he was a big man, his feet spread apart for balance. But it was the machine that caught his eye - some type he couldn't recognize, but that sparkled dully in the sun off the man's left side.
On his other shoulder, the man hefted a rocket-propelled grenade launcher.
Bucky whipped back around. "Grenade!" he shouted, and rushed to Pepper - she was the one least protected out of them.
His enhanced speed made him just fast enough to make it to Pepper and knock her to the ground, the shield over them both. Pepper let out a surprised shriek as the rocket propelled grenade hit. Flames rolled overhead, and the walls shook from the force of impact.
Then the floor dropped out from under them.
Tony yelled "NO!", reaching for them both. They were too far away.
And for a second, Bucky was back on the train, reaching for Steve, seeing his wide blue eyes as Steve fell from him...
The floor collapsed with a squeal of twisting metal. A sickening, stomach lurching drop. Gripping Pepper, Bucky somehow was able to roll so he hit the ground first, his shield over their heads as shattered concrete rained down over them.
Slowly the shaking stopped. Bucky coughed, clearing dust from his lungs. Pepper wiggled off him - it might have been an interesting position, if she weren't Tony's girl and he weren't aching and sore.
He looked up. They'd fallen clean through two levels.
The repulsers in the Iron Man suit meant Tony had been able to hover. He hadn't fallen in with them. He made a controlled decent to their level. "Are you all right? Pep? Bucky?"
"Fine," Pepper coughed.
Bucky jerked his head back to the other building, now visible through a huge, gaping hole in the wall. "Gruber's that way," he growled. "Go."
He couldn't see Tony's face under Iron Man's mask, but he could imagine the snarl there. The desire for revenge. Sure enough, Tony lurched into motion and ran out the hole - the Iron Man suit clunking. He dropped out of view, and Bucky heard a mechanical whine as the repulsers activated and he gave chase.
"You okay, ma'am?" he asked, helping Pepper sit up.
She clutched her wrist to her. She might have broken it - he hadn't exactly been gentle when he'd knocked her down. She nodded, still coughing. "Yes, yes, I'm-" Then to his utter alarm, she broke into tears.
Bucky patted her on the shoulder, awkwardly.
"I'm fine," she kept insisting. "I'm fine," then lower, "I can't do this anymore."
He didn't know what to say, and Pepper shook her head, shaking and shuddering. By the time Iron Man came back, frustrated and empty handed, she'd once again pulled herself together like the trooper she was.
Bucky didn't mention what she'd said, and neither did she.
Life moved on. Soon there there were more calls to assemble, (Doombots again, really? Some villains had no imagination) and although Bucky kept an eye peeled for the assassin they'd nicknamed Hans Gruber there wasn't hide nor hair of him. No threats to Pepper, Tony, or any of the Avengers.
The assassin had disappeared like a ghost.
Spring blasted into summer in that sudden way that it tended to do in Southern California. One thing he missed about Brooklyn (other than everything) was that the seasons actually followed the calendar, instead of a half-attempt at winter before moving into summer with no spring in between.
"Hey, I got a question," Clint said one day while he and Bucky laid belly-first on a sandy knoll on the training beach, shooting at holographic targets. They were decent sparring partners - well matched. Bucky was a sharp-shooter in his own right, though Clint edged him out over one-hundred yards. Bucky usually one-upped him on hand-to-hand combat. Clint wasn't a slouch, but Bucky's slightly enhanced reflexes and strength gave him the upper hand.
Bucky ignored Clint, took aim with his rifle, and fired. A puff of wind came up and blew Bucky's shot wide.
Clint smirked. "Hey," he said again, "Isn't your birthday next week?"
"Nope." Bucky squeezed the trigger. This time his shot struck true.
"Bullshit. July 4th, right?"
Bucky ruthlessly pushed down the unpleasant squirm in his chest. "Wrong Captain America, pal," he said. "My birthday was in March."
"What? Why didn't you say anything?"
He shrugged and scooted down from the knoll to give Clint his chance at a shot. "I couldn't figure if I was twenty-eight or ninety-five." Some days he felt like both. "So what was the point?"
"I hear that. Don't tell anyone, but I'm celebrating my 30th. Again." Clint drew back his bow and fired. The wind played havoc with him, as well. To Bucky's satisfaction Clint's arrow went wide by the barest of margins.
Later, Bucky realized he should have sussed him out - Clint was a super secret agent. He didn't say anything without a purpose or a reason.
He wasn't looking forward to the day, anyhow. There were too many specials on TV leading up to it - all featuring the amalgam of the Captain America the government propaganda machine had put out after the war. The man that had a little bit of Steve and a little bit of Bucky, and yet was neither. Honestly, Bucky's schooldays were pretty bad, but he still worried for the state of the American school system.
So when the day came, he went out. Borrowed one of Tony's motorcycles (he called it a crotch rocket, and flying down the freeway it really did feel like a rocket) and went past the city, up the mountain pass and to the back roads of the grapevine until he came to a gated off reservoir. Some place where he could sit on a bank, open a beer, and talk to the empty air without coming off like a loon.
"Happy ninety-fifth, Stevie," he said, and took a sip.
He made sure to get home before most of the fireworks started. He didn't care what the head shrinks said - he didn't have shellshock, but the sound of blasts overhead made him twitchy, reminded him too much of the bad times during the war.
The mansion was unusually dark when he got there, which should have been his second clue. Bucky frowned as he walked into the living room and flicked on the lights. Did he hear breathing...?
"SURPRISE!"
Bucky easily leapt back ten feet, holding his motorcycle helmet in front of him like a shield.
There was a crowd of people in the living room, Bucky's team stood in front; Tony with a shit-eating grin, Natasha with a raised eyebrow. Bruce gave him a half-apologetic shrug and Thor raised what looked like a goblet of mead or ale. Beyond them were a crowd of people - Stark industry employees, some SHIELD agents he was friendly with, and adult coaches for the co-ed Little League team Bucky helped coach in his off hours.
Then he figured it out. The banner strung overhead that said, "Happy Late Birthday" helped.
Then a crowd of well-wishers surrounded him and it was either smile through grit teeth or punch someone. Maybe Clint. He had a punchable face.
Someone - he thought it was Natasha - pushed a clear shot of vodka in his hand. He downed it, knowing it would do nothing, but there was always the hope it would take the edge off.
"I told them this would be a great idea," Tony said later, throwing an arm around Bucky's shoulders. He was half-drunk, his dark eyes a little vague from alcohol, and his smile a touch too wide. "You were set to be all Captain Mopey because of your... Steve. We could all see it. And I said... I said, no." He leaned close, his breath tickling Bucky's ear. "This should be a time to celebrate. Or grieve. Both? Like a wake, right?"
Bucky made himself smile pleasantly as a random well-wisher passed by. Then he turned and gripped Tony's shoulder hard, and spoke in his ear. "You're going to pay for this, Stark. Drink up tonight, because the whole team's rising at the crack of dawn for an all-day training. Get ready tosuffer."
He actually felt Tony shiver, but when he pulled back the smile he gave Bucky was as sunny as it was smarmy. He cupped the back of Bucky's neck. "Worth it. I got Jarvis to capture the look on your face when we yelled surprise - totally worth it."
The bubble of irritation fought equally with a sort of amused exasperation. "Pepper told you it was a stupid idea, right?" he asked because surely someone in this house had common sense not to startle an war vet with enhanced reflexes.
Something flashed over Tony's face. There and gone again. "I didn't ask her," he said, and Bucky realized he hadn't seen her at the party at all.
He opened his mouth to ask, but Tony was steering him over to a knot of pretty agents, announcing that the man of the day deserved birthday kisses. And that... that wasn't so bad at all.
Even if Tony and Thor got into the game and laid a big smack on each cheek.
Bucky rubbed the side of his face, grinning sheepishly. The bristles of Tony's goatee had tickled a little.
It was only until later that he realized with the party going full swing he hadn't heard the boom of far off fireworks. Thank goodness for small mercies.
He escaped as the festivities wound down, sneaking out to sit outside on the beach. The sand was cool from the night air, and the stars were disappearing one-by-one as the sun rose from the east behind him.
Bucky didn't turn as he heard a pair of footsteps shuffle his way. He knew who it was without looking.
"What are you still doing up, Stark?"
Tony shrugged. He looked worn, the start of a five o'clock shadow around his goatee. He'd sobered a little over the last couple hours, though, and knocked Bucky on the shoulder as he sat down next to him. "You said punishment training this morning, right? Figured it was easier to stay up for it rather than going back to sleep. Good luck getting Bruce to come outside with a hangover, though."
Bucky tried to be annoyed, but it wasn't in him anymore. In the light of false-dawn, last night's anger felt very far away. "Go to sleep, Tony," he said with a sigh.
"I'm fine, Cap."
They sat there for a long time, watching the surf roll in and roll out. So different from where his mind kept going - the snowy alps - and that helped, too.
"I know you're thinking about your dead friend," Tony said, breaking the silence. "But can we talk about me for a second?'
Truthfully, Bucky was a little glad of the distraction, but telling Tony would only encourage him. "When are we not talking about you, ya narcissist?"
"True." Tony's grimace was sharp enough to cut glass. "Pepper says she's tired of competing against Iron Man. I think-no, I know I'm losing her."
"She's not wrong," Bucky said. "Elegant dames like her need someone to be there. Someone..." he racked his brain for the modern term, "emotionally supportive."
Tony sent him a narrow-eyed look. "Not helpful. Aren't you supposed to be making me feel better?"
"Nah," Bucky said. "I find anger's more productive." When Tony didn't react, he sighed. "You know there's a problem, so why aren't you trying to win her back, you dope?"
Tony grunted. "Maybe she's right."
"So what? Reality's never stopped you before."
"She could have been killed. I can't... Maybe I... " He'd brought a water bottle with him, and paused to swallow a gulp. Then he added in his quick, offhand way, "I don't have the right to put her in danger."
And maybe in Bucky's heart of hearts, he thought they were both fools for not trying to work it out. Tony was a fella who had a lot going for him, even aside from the money. He was smart, handsome, and despite all his bluster, he cared. Yes he had his faults, but it seemed to Bucky that people in the modern era were looking for the perfect relationship, one which didn't exist.
Bucky sighed and leaned back. "I don't get dames nowadays."
"They call them women, grandpa," Tony said. He fished another water bottle out of his jacket pocket and handed it over to Bucky. "And no one gets women. That's a universal truth."
They clinked water bottles to that, and Bucky took a sip, looking out to sea. "You know, Steve... he was the best man I ever knew, but he couldn't hardly talk to a gal. Clammed right up - you'd think they were going to bite him, the way he acted."
"Really?" Tony asked, amused.
Bucky nodded and actually found himself smiling, recalling the awful way Steve would bumble and stammer at anything with pretty legs. Seeing his half-hearted attempts with Peggy was pretty pathetic. "'Course, between you and me, I'm not so sure he liked da-women in that way."
Tony had been swallowing and choked a little. Helpfully, Bucky slapped him on the back.
"What?" Tony gasped, his eyes bright.
"We didn't talk it in those days, but looking back?" Bucky shrugged. "Makes sense. He had no instincts for ladies."
"Ow," Tony pressed a hand against his forehead. "Ow, my childhood. No, wait, he had all the muscles, right? Hot."
Bucky rolled his eyes and elbowed Tony in the side. "So anyway, if your relationships aren't working out with females, maybe you should try the other side. Get some dick, make yourself happy."
"Wow, that's both insulting and progressive."
"Brave new world," he said. Plus, he'd seen the tabloids. Tony wasn't exactly quiet 'bout the fact he had batted both left and right handed.
Tony gave him a sidelong glance. His grin was relaxed and loose enough almost to hide the pain in his eyes. "Don't tell me that's an offer, Barnes."
"Do I look like a cradle robber to you?"
"Bucky," He leaned close. Very close. "I'm losing the love of my life. This is my hour of need."
"Shut up."
"Are you blushing? Oh, Captain my Captain." Tony made a ridiculous kissy face.
Bucky easily shoved him away. But his heart was thumping hard, and he knew that while Tony was playing, the sudden flash of want he felt was bubbling too close to the surface. He had to shut this down, now. For the sake of the team and their friendship.
And maybe that reminded him a little of Steve, too.
"Tony," he looked him straight in the eye. "You ought to go after Pepper. You shouldn't let this one get away."
He could see the sarcastic reply hovering behind Tony's eyes. Then he shrugged. "Sure. Thanks, Barnes," he said eloquently, drank the rest of the water bottle in one long pull, then got unsteadily to his feet and walked away.
Bucky let him go, unsure what had just happened. Unsure he wanted to examine it too closely at all.
The mansion had three times the square footage than the orphanage Bucky grew up in, but with six Avengers, it wasn't all that big. When Pepper moved out, everyone knew.