"Chapter Five"
JARVIS displayed all the records Tony had been able to find, and the billionaire scrolled through them two at a time, searching for anything that could help.
"I thought you weren't gonna hack the diner's computer system," Natasha said when she entered the room. Tony waved a hand dismissively.
"I never said that," he said.
"So what is the purpose of all this?" she asked, indicating the screens.
"Tony's trying to find out Phil's 'type'," Rhodey said. He was watching with lazy amusement, feet up on the table. Natasha smacked them with a ruler Steve had left nearby, and Rhodey quickly moved his feet to the floor.
"It spoils the finish, and is bad for your back," she said.
"Why, because you'll beat me up in the ring for marring the varnish?"
"No," she said, tilting her head with a frown. "You have terribly posture for a military man."
"Hey, I'm on holiday," he said, shrugging. He grinned. "You're observant, Ms. Romanov. What do you think Phil's type could be?"
She arched an eyebrow. "And take the fun out of it for you?"
"I can do this!" Tony said. "Just give me a couple of minutes."
Natasha rolled her eyes and sat down, immediately scrolling through her e-reader to find something interesting. Tony hummed, and Rhodey watched him.
"What do we know about Phil?" he said.
"He's the greatest chef in the history of great chefs," Tony said.
"He always has two other people working with him," Natasha reminded them.
"He knows Fury, he's ex-military, and… and he likes superheroes! That'll make it easier. Reckon he's into men or women?"
"From the way you've been talking, it doesn't seem to matter all that much," Rhodey said.
"Yeah, but there are more guys than girls around here," Tony whined. "That makes it harder to find someone if he's straight. There's Natasha and Darcy. Darcy's gone back to London. Say, Romanov, would you—"
"I'm not getting involved in this," she said.
"Then there are SHIELD agents." Tony pursed his lips. "JARVIS, hack into—"
"Do you really want Phil involved with them?" Rhodey asked.
"Not really. They could try to steal him away. Well, plan B. Wait, no. That's not plan B. This is the supplement to plan A. One of the many supplements."
"Please tell me you don't have all this written down somewhere," Rhodey said. "You wouldn't be that anal about it, would you?"
Tony snorted. "When it comes to match-making our boy Phil so that we get extra special treatment from our favourite cook? Hells yeah."
"You're so mercenary," Clint said as he sauntered in. "And not one reference to hypocrisy, or someone will get an arrow in their ass."
"I really wish that was a euphemism, but I think Cap would have a problem with that," Tony remarked. Clint smiled smugly.
"Oh, I think you'll find that he wouldn't," he said. "In fact, he doesn't." Then he sauntered out again, a definite sway to his hips. Rhodey and Tony gaped.
"You really didn't see that coming?" Natasha asked.
"Don't tell me you're so goddamn omniscient," Tony said.
"Well…" She shrugged elegantly. "Perhaps not. It is necessary to give that impression, however. Except when it's the opposite."
"Gotta get you to teach me how to do that," Rhodey muttered.
"So what do you think you know about Phil's tastes?" Tony said.
"Isn't it obvious who he might be interested in?" she said.
"Don't tell me it's Fury, because I'd need to invent brain bleach, and I can't risk hurting this baby." He tapped the side of his head.
"No, clearly you can't afford to lose any more."
Rhodey coughed, and looked between them. "I think she's referring to his reaction… to Bucky?"
"Bingo," Natasha whispered, swiping her e-reader along to the next page.
"Barnes?" Tony said, eyes goggling. "That… kinda makes sense. Sounds like Phil went above and beyond to help him without even knowing the guy all that well, and he smiled like he'd won the lottery just from seeing Barnes… Yeah." He grinned slowly. "You're right. We've gotta get them together. I'm enlisting both of you in this endeavour. And you, JARVIS."
"You'll have to do it without me," Rhodey said. "I'm back on duty in four days, or have you forgotten that?"
"Always abandoning me, honeybear," Tony said with a pout.
"You've got plenty of backup now, Tony. But I expect you to fill me in on any progress," he added, pointing at Tony. "And… when I say 'you', I guess I mean JARVIS."
"Of course, Colonel Rhodes."
"Attaboy."
Natasha snorted delicately.
"You're all children," she said.
"But you'll help, right?" Tony said, looking straight at her. "Natasha?"
Her face softened. "Of course. There's no way they will get there on their own."
Later, Tony grabbed Steve and pulled him aside while Bucky wasn't around.
"I need your advice," he said.
"My advice? Are you feeling well, Tony?"
"Ha-ha. Really. You gonna become a comedian?"
"What is it?"
"Well… it's about your friend, Barnes."
Steve's brow furrowed. "What about Bucky?"
"I think he likes Phil. Like likes Phil."
"'Like likes'?"
"Has the hots for. A crush, if you will. Point is, I'm getting some of the others together, and we're going to do a bit of matchmaking. As his best friend, we need your input."
"'We' includes…?"
"All the others."
Steve shook his head. "I don't know, Tony. I know Bucky's better now, but forcing him into a relationship—"
"Who said anything about forcing, Capsicle?"
"Please don't call me that."
"What's your real objection?"
"That is my real objection, Tony. I want Bucky to have more time to settle. He's still on edge, and I don't want either of them to get hurt."
Tony frowned. "You think Barnes would hurt him?"
"Not… not physically. And if he had an… episode, I'm sure Phil could handle him."
"This isn't some kind of homophobia, is it?"
"No. I believe that everyone should be treated equally, and that love is love. Or have you forgotten that I'm with Clint?"
Tony opened his mouth, and closed it again. "Uh… yeah, kinda forgot that. Look, if it's not that… I don't see why we can't at least nudge them together."
Steve pursed his lips, and exhaled through his nose. "If I agree to this, it's under the strict condition that I get to pull the plug the minute I think it's gonna go wrong. And Sam has that prerogative as well."
"Sure, great, whatever," Tony said, bouncing on his heels. He smiled widely. "I knew I could count on you, Rogers. Wilson's taking him out at four, like usual?"
"For the meeting, yes. I go to the morning ones."
"Then we'll meet in the common room at sixteen hundred hours." He clapped Steve on the shoulder. "Glad we had this conversation. Really." Then he disappeared, leaving Steve a bundle of worry.
He hoped Bucky would be okay.
Phil looked over the hours roster, and heaved a sigh. If he could rearrange things, he would. He'd been too obvious when he saw J… Bucky again. No, James. He could be James in Phil's head. And damn, it'd been awkward. It hadn't helped that Phil's old commander had been there, and both were unexpected guests, putting him on edge.
Yes, Phil had always made food for James, but it was different when it was out the back of the restaurant, when he thought that James was homeless, or at Phil's place. Charity was different.
If he could liken this situation to a fairytale, he would be the servant who fell for a prince-in-disguise, and ended up serving the very same prince in the palace. Less tray-dropping, thankfully. But going from helping someone perceived to be less fortunate, to serving that someone instead… He felt deceived, and foolish. And he wished he'd never started feeding James. Then he would have been just another legend back from the dead, part of a superhero team and out of Phil's reach. Where he could have had a chance – even the slightest chance – before, it was hopeless. James… no, he had to be Bucky, or Sergeant Barnes. He was way out of Phil's league now.
But he could still dream.
Phil's shoulders slumped, and he texted Melinda to ask whether she'd be willing to swap a couple of days with him. She replied with a list of times she was willing to change, and he quickly wrote them on the board. It would be good for her to spend some time working with Trip and Jemma, and it would be good for Phil to spend more time with Mack and Leo in the kitchen.
It had nothing to do with minimising his contact with the Avengers and their friends. Nope. Nothing to do with it at all.
"That's done," he said. "They won't notice a change of staff. Natasha doesn't even bother coming into the kitchen anymore."
He did kind of miss her presence, truth be told. That corner felt empty without her to fill it. And he'd miss whipping up larger portions for Thor. And asking Lance to describe Steve's reactions to everything new. But it was better this way. They'd probably think he was a creepy stalker if he found excuses to look at or visit their table while James was there, and it had taken a long time for Natasha to come to trust them.
So Phil hoped and waited for Fury's call. He needed something to distract himself, and meeting up with an old friend was something he didn't get the chance to do.
His watch beeped, and he checked the time. It was late. The others had all gone. It was time to go home.
As he climbed into his gorgeous cherry red car, he never noticed someone watching him from the darkness.
There was a press conference held to reveal Bucky's return, and officially declare him an honorary Avenger. Bucky was wearing long sleeves, which he justified by claiming that it was cold. Only his metal hand was visible, and he wouldn't be waving it around. If anyone noticed it, the story was that he was injured in the line of duty. And, much like Steve, he had been frozen in time, having also been imbued with something like the super soldier serum.
It had a basis in the truth, close enough that no one was likely to forget it. They would just conveniently leave out that he'd been a weapon for HYDRA for seventy-odd years. With a haircut and no mask, he looked close enough to the old pictures for people not to question his veracity.
Few people had seen the Winter Soldier and lived to tell, which… was only slightly comforting. Those in the know tried not to dwell on it.
"Are you ready for this?" Sam asked, holding Bucky's shoulder.
"No. But it must be done."
"If you want to reschedule it—"
"That would not be right," he said. "I would prefer to get this over with."
"Okay, Bucky. I'll be right by your side, and so will Steve."
"Mmm-hmm."
The press knew why they were there; the rumours had been persisting for a week. As soon as Steve walked out, followed by Bucky, there was a wall of sound as photographs were snapped and hands shot into the air. Bucky tensed at the lights and sudden movements, but didn't run, despite his long-engrained instincts to defend himself or escape.
"We're here," Sam murmured.
Bucky, Sam, and the Avengers (minus Thor) sat at the long table. Security from Stark Industries kept people from rushing towards the stage, and Bucky hoped that he would remember to thank Pepper Potts for organising it. Tony had the most experience in fielding questions, and someone handed Bucky a microphone. Sam showed him where to switch it on.
"Mr. Barnes," a reporter began.
"Sergeant," he said.
"Sorry. Sergeant Barnes, when exactly did you re-enter society?"
"I don't remember exactly, because I was disoriented for a long time. How would you define re-entering society?"
"Finding Captain America again."
"A while ago," Bucky said. He knew they were supposed to ask questions; but if they were going to be invasive, he was going to be contrary. "It was night-time. Is that exact enough?" He heard Steve snort.
"Next question," Tony said. He picked a woman this time.
"Sergeant Barnes, how have you adjusted to the twenty-first century?" she asked.
"By reading and watching, and with help from my… friends."
"What do you mean, 'reading and watching'?"
"What I said. Reading words and watching actions. And listening to sounds."
"I actually meant how you feel about all of it," she clarified. "Not the methods."
"Oh, the other 'how'," he said, giving her his most innocent look. He could tell that Steve was trying desperately not to laugh. It almost felt familiar. "I've learnt how to use a TV remote. Cars are more comfortable, even though they still can't fly." There was some laughter from the crowd, and he grinned. "And civil rights. Those are my favourites. Although the Harry Potter movies are running a close second. And bisexuality is a thing. I didn't know that."
"Next question!" Tony said loudly, speaking above the noise of the crowd as they discussed this latest development. "C'mon, people! Anyone would think you didn't know squat about Greek history." They began to quiet down again. "Okay. Next question, and don't make me repeat myself."
"Sergeant Barnes, are you bisexual?"
"Hey, that's enough—"
"Can I only support bisexuals by being one?" Bucky asked, interrupting Tony's defensive tirade. They fell silent. "I guess I can't support women's rights unless I'm female, or African-American's rights unless I'm black? I can say that, can't I?" he whispered to Sam, who nodded, bemused. "But, since you asked so nicely," he smiled shark-like, "then yes. I probably am bisexual. Or would be, given the opportunity. But I don't see that as a big deal. This is the twenty-first century. There are still bigots out there, yet this is the twenty-first century. I don't understand why these problems still exist. War can be declared overnight, but you can't fix society in seventy years?" No one replied. "Well, any more questions?"
There were some less invasive questions after that; anytime someone tried to be clever, Bucky cut them down skilfully. Steve elbowed him, giving him a look of pride, and Sam patted him on the back afterwards.
"I think you're nearly back," he said. "Steve?"
"The Bucky from before is still in there," Steve agreed. "I think maybe you should speak for me at press conferences in the future. I make a real hash of them."
The others congratulated Bucky, and they all took off for The Everything Diner, making sure that they weren't followed. It was one of Phil's days, part of the reason they'd arranged for the conference that day. Lance raised his eyebrows, but didn't comment as he showed them to their usual long table.
"I'll grab water for you," he said. "Is this brunch?"
"Yeah, we've been busy this morning," Clint said. "Say, is Phil able to come out?"
"…Not today," Lance said.
"Why not?" Pepper asked. "Isn't he working today?"
"He should be," Natasha said.
"No. Melinda is on today."
"Why?" Bucky said. "Is he sick?"
Lance shook his head. "They've swapped some of their shifts. Skye will be over to take your drinks order soon. I'll just get that water."
Natasha swore in Russian. "I'll have to memorise the new timetable."
"Why would they want to move things around?" Clint asked, eyebrows furrowing.
Bucky just stared at the tablecloth, and didn't say a word.
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