"Chapter Eight"

Darcy approved of Tony's plan to send Bucky for food, but questioned how often they could do that without it becoming suspicious.

"That's why someone always goes with him," Tony said.

"Yes, but it's not exactly subtle," she said.

"What's subtle about match-making?" he asked. She face-palmed.

"You've all been teasing him," she said. "He's getting near the edge. Can't you see it?"

"He's always kind of on edge," Bruce said. "After all he's gone through…"

"Which is why you shouldn't push him, or he'll just go further into denial."

"So what's your suggestion, O Great One?" Tony asked. "I've done the accidental meeting – though that was to get Rogers on our side – and we've been sending Bucky to The Everything Diner."

"Does he see Phil every time?"

"…I don't know."

"He doesn't," Clint said. "He didn't when we were there the other day."

"When were you gonna tell me this?" Tony asked, eyebrows reaching for his hairline.

"When you asked."

"If only it was Christmas," Darcy said. "Then we could totally trap them under the mistletoe."

"That's not subtle, either," Pepper said. "And JARVIS objects to mistletoe."

"I do indeed," JARVIS chimed in.

"We can't trap them in a closet, because we'd need a closet, and Bucky would break out," Clint said. "Unless it was made of diamond, I guess."

"And he probably wouldn't like being trapped like that," Steve said. "And what if Phil hates small spaces as well?"

"No," Darcy said. "Let's change it up. Find an excuse to bring Phil to us."

"How?" Tony asked.

"I already checked with him, and he doesn't do catering," Pepper said. "So we can't bring him on the pretext of a party or meeting."

"Fury?" Darcy suggested. "You said they're besties, right?"

"I don't know how the director feels about us trying to set up his friend with an unstable ex-assassin," Bruce said.

"Well, you won't know unless you ask him."

"Why don't you ask him, Lewis?" Clint asked, grinning. "He's not gonna have one of Thor's friends murdered. Doesn't exactly promote peace between Asgard and Earth."

Darcy turned pale. "Not exactly reassuring, Barton."

"Nah. He'll love you."

Across the desk sat Nicholas Fury. He stared back at Darcy, who squirmed in her seat.

"Yo," she said. Fury's eye twitched.

"Who let you in here?" he asked.

"That'd be telling, sir."

"You're not at all intimidated by me, are you?"

"Sir, I'm absolutely terrified of you, but the others are making me do this."

His lips twisted into a sinister smile. "Making you do what?

She paused, and then blurted, "It's Barton's fault! A-and, and Banner, `cause he found the place, and Barton made me come here, and I know horrible people!"

"What place is this?" Fury asked. It sounded almost… gentle. Darcy's heart continued to pound.

"T-the Everything Diner," she said. "Your buddy's restaurant. Now he's got a thing for Bucky Barnes, and apparently it's returned, but neither of them are making a move, so Stark wants to set them up together, and his match-making hasn't worked, so they've called me in to get your help. Because if you had me killed – or, I dunno, killed me yourself – it'd be damaging towards Midgard-Asgard peace negotiations, or whatever."

"Hmm. They're not wrong there."

"So… you won't kill me?"

"Why the hell would I kill you?"

She opened and closed her mouth rapidly, before deciding that keeping it shut was unproductive. "Uh…" Way to go, Darce.

"I won't harm a hair on your head," Fury said.

"What about hair anywhere else? Oh!" Her eyes nearly fell out of her head. "Oh, God, no! I didn't…" She covered her face, feeling her cheeks flare up. She heard a muffled sound, and peeked out.

Fury's hand was over his mouth, but she definitely saw his shoulders jumping.

Was he laughing?

"Are you laughing?" she asked.

"No," he said, suddenly the picture of blandness and danger again. "Why does Stark think I'd help him match-make an old friend with the Winter Soldier?"

"The what now?"

"How much have they told you about… where Barnes has been the last seventy years?"

Understanding dawned. "Oh, so that's why they called him the soldier. I thought it was just because he was, ya know, a soldier?" Fury didn't reply. "Well, you should help us because, uh, because Phil… deserves to be happy. And according to Skye, he's pining. So he needs to be cheered up."

"And putting him in awkward situations so that he'll end up in bed with Sergeant Barnes will cheer him up?"

"Hey, great sex can loosen anyone up," Darcy said. "Except asexuals, I guess."

"Moving on," Fury said.

"Look," she said, leaning against the desk. At his frown – probably mild for most people, freaking terrifying on him – she thought better of it. "All we want you to do is find a reason for him to go to Stark Tower, or meet somewhere that isn't his restaurant. I mean, if it's just us going to the diner all the time, we're meeting on his turf. We sort of need to even the score. Or meet in neutral territory."

"…I bet you're wishing you never applied to be Jane Foster's assistant."

"Most of the time I do, yeah," Darcy said, tilting her head. "Then sometimes… I think it was the best decision I ever made."

"How sweet," he said dryly, and she flushed.

"Uh, so… will you help us? For Phil." She smiled sweetly. Fury's expression didn't change.

"I'll think about it," he said.

"…Wait, seriously?"

"Go away, Miss Lewis."

Darcy beamed, and skipped from the office.

Phil had managed to break himself of the habit of looking for James whenever he went out the back of the restaurant. Yet one day his eyes were drawn to that corner without his permission, and he noticed a box, one of the ones they used for people to take extra food with them. Or, as was becoming a bit too frequent nowadays, when the Avengers sent James to pick up an order for them. He tried not to think about why it was always James who was elected courier.

He approached the box carefully, prodding it with a broom first. When there was no explosion, he set the broom aside and opened the lid.

Inside was a note: 'I can't take any more AC/DC. Next time I need my arm fixed, I will come straight to you.' It didn't need to be signed, and while it was technically meant for Leo, Phil smiled all the same as his heart sped to double time. And it felt like it sort of was for him. After all, this spot didn't mean anything to Leo, not the way it did to Phil.

The note stayed in his mind all that night, and the following. When James next came to The Everything Diner, it was for a meal with the others.

"Go out and say hi," Jemma said, nudging Phil from behind, where he peeked out of the kitchen doors to see the Avengers for himself. James was facing their way, and he looked up as Jemma eventually shoved Phil out. Looking at her, people could be mistaken for thinking that she was petite. But then they'd see her hauling around large pots of minestrone and rethink their initial impression. Phil obediently sidled over to the table, trying to think of an excuse for his presence.

"Recovered from the witch, I see," he said, putting his hands on the backs of Natasha and Pepper's chairs. "What was her name? Aurora?"

"Amora," Thor grumbled. "An old… acquaintance of Asgard."

"James told m… Sergeant Barnes told me about her, when he came for food the other night," Phil explained. He knew better than to hope that no one had noticed his slip-up, and knew that he had to wrap things up quickly. "Just wanted to make sure for myself that you were all right."

"Tell Leo he did a good job with the arm," Tony said. "Almost as good as I could do."

"The only damage to my eardrums was from the sheer amount of talking that boy can manage," James said, smiling slightly. A warm feeling curled into a ball behind Phil's sternum. He rubbed at it absently.

"Enjoy your meal," Phil said, and he headed back into the kitchen. He washed his hands thoroughly again, and began work on dessert for a crowd who came in early. He prepared the base of crumbs, butter, oats, and a touch of icing sugar (his secret ingredient). The soothing lull of familiarity caught up with him, and the three chefs moved around each other with the ease of practise. And then Skye interrupted them with a note.

"It's for you, Phil," she said, holding it up for him to read. His eyes widened, and he blushed. (He would later claim that it was just the heat of the oven, despite being near the freezer when it happened.)

'You look good today. The jeans bring out the colour of your eyes. Bucky.'

After the initial rush of oh-my-God-does-he-really-like-me, Phil brought himself firmly back to reality, and studied the note. Even if James did sign himself as 'Bucky', that definitely wasn't his hand-writing. At least it wasn't the same hand-writing as on the note he'd found out the back. It was clearly someone's idea of a joke.

"Who gave you this?" he asked.

"Bucky Barnes."

"Mmm-hmm. And who was it from originally?"

"…You mean it's from someone else?"

"Go back and tell him – them – that I don't appreciate the joke. And throw that out." He nodded at the piece of paper. "Their food is nearly ready. Be prepared to serve it."

"Yes, sir," she mumbled, scrunching up the paper. She tossed it into the nearest bin, and grabbed the first tray of plates Trip set out.

Skye was aware of the expectant looks she was receiving as she carefully placed their meals on the table.

"So… what did Phil say?" Tony asked.

"What did you even write?" Bucky said. "You could've just given her the note when she was at your end of the table, or told Phil when he saw us before."

"That's not as much fun," he said. "Well?"

She sighed. "I don't know what you wrote, but he told me to say that he doesn't appreciate the joke. And if you're pranking him…"

"No pranking," Tony said, brow furrowing. "I don't understand how he could take it as a joke." He slumped back, thinking, as Skye retrieved more dishes. Then he eyed Bucky sharply from across the table. "Has Phil seen your hand-writing?"

Bucky blinked, and then frowned. "Uh… yeah. He has."

"Goddamnit."

"Wait, did you sign that note from me?"

Tony mumbled something, and Darcy huffed.

"Didn't I say you should type it?" she said.

"I didn't know he'd seen Barnes's writing! I think you should be proud that I wasn't just using a computer for once."

"What did you say to Phil?" Bucky asked urgently. "What'd you do?" He looked up at Skye. "Did he say anything else? Does he know it wasn't me?"

"Of course. He must've worked it out himself."

Bucky swore. "Stark, what the hell were you thinking?"

"It's all for the greater good," Tony said. He shrank back a little from Bucky's glare.

"What're you playing at?" he asked.

"Look, it was a compliment. Why would he think it's a joke?"

"Hell if I know," Skye said. "He's one of the sweetest guys I know, and anyone would be lucky to be with him. But do you ever hear of him dating?"

She left them to continue bringing out food, leaving Bucky glowering at Tony, who was conferring with Darcy via text. Steve cleared his throat beside Bucky.

"At least he knows it wasn't you," he said.

"Steve, what's Stark up to?"

"We just want you to be happy, Buck. And Tony… he likes to fix things. I think he sees you as a project."

"Probably because I'm part-robot," Bucky muttered, before taking a sip of his water. Sam, on the other side of him, snorted into his own drink.

It was terrible timing. A week after the note incident, a delivery came in just as James reached the bar to pick up the latest order. As far as he was aware, there'd been no recent battles for the Avengers, which made Phil wonder why they didn't just visit, rather than sending James out of the city to pick up food. Phil shivered as he brushed past him on the way out to meet the van, so that he could sign for the delivery.

"Hey, uh…" Phil paused to look at James, whose words stuttered to a stop. "About that note…"

"It wasn't from you," Phil said. "I know. I… worked it out pretty quickly."

"Good," he said. "What did it say? Stark didn't tell me."

Phil shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Excuse me." Then he ducked outside, forcing himself not to turn and watch James from behind. He accepted the clipboard, murmuring a greeting to the truck driver, and checked the list while the man opened the doors.

"Get down!"

He looked up to see two men aiming guns at them, and shuffling closer. There were screams from inside the restaurant, but Phil was just irritated.

"Do you mind?" he said. "I'm taking a delivery."

"Dude, just do as he says!" the truck driver hissed, his hands in the air as he backed off. Phil was unimpressed as he studied the assailants, who continued to approach. He took slow, careful steps in front of the truck, his eyes flicking to the side only once to see what was closest to hand.

"Stop moving!" the other would-be robber shouted, waving his revolver.

"Well, you have next to no sense of gun safety," Phil remarked.

In the split second that the bad guys were confused, he hit one of them across the face with the clipboard, knocked the other's gun out of his hand, and grabbed the closest item to hand – a bag of flour – and threw it in his face. He grabbed a hanging strap to give himself a boost, and kicked the other revolver down with one foot, and its owner in the face with the other. A simple series of hits and kicks later, and both men were on the ground, knocked out. Phil used the pen from the clipboard to flick the safeties on, and nudged the weapons out of the way with his foot. The truck driver was staring at him.

"What're you, an ex-Marine?" he said. Phil smiled enigmatically.

"Better," he said. He checked the back of the clipboard, but it was unharmed. He ran his eyes down the list, approved it, and signed off. Then he placed it in the truck, and glanced at the scattered flour. That would have to be swept up before the cops arrived.

He stared into the windows, where he could see and hear the patrons cheering. He left the driver to drag the perps out of the way, and walked back into the restaurant.

The first thing he noticed was James, who had a knife in each hand, but was simply staring at Phil. When he still didn't move, Phil touched his arm.

"You okay?" he asked. James nodded jerkily. Phil passed him and went up to the bar. "Called the police?"

"They're on their way," Grant said. "Should I put in an order for more flour?"

"I'll buy some on the way home, and bring it in tomorrow."

"Bobbi's getting a broom. She said she'd take care of the mess."

Phil smiled. He loved how efficient everyone was. "Good."

"I think we'll be taking excellent tips today," Skye said, elbowing Phil. He waved politely at the patrons, and called for them to sit back down and carry on eating. When they were mostly seated, he went back to James, who was tucking the blades back into his pockets. Did he carry them with him everywhere?

"Your food should still be warm," he said. James coughed.

"We have to reheat it by the time I get back anyway," he said. Clint jogged into the restaurant.

"I saw what happened," he said. "Everything okay here?"

"Of course," Phil said.

"Do you have CCTV for outside, at least?"

"We do have cameras. They're just not connected to any network."

Clint blinked rapidly. "That would explain why…"

"Why what?"

"Uh, never mind. Do we need to stay to give statements?"

"The police won't be long. I'm sure you'll be allowed to go soon."

He nodded. "In the meantime, why don't you and Bucky talk about those sweet moves? I mean, using flour…"

"I'm a chef," Phil said. "Using flour is something I do on a regular basis."

Clint chortled, and clapped him on the shoulder. "I'll go see how the driver's doing."

"How are you doing?" James asked quietly after Clint left. "Honestly."

"Honestly?" Phil said. "I'll be okay. A few exercises tonight and there shouldn't be any aches tomorrow."

"Okay," James said. He looked over Phil's shoulder. "I'll go pay for the food now."

"You do that," he said, feeling a pang of regret at James walked around him. Realising that Leo and Mack were probably wondering what was going on, and having to look after anything which was cooking, he returned to the kitchen.

That was actually kinda fun to write. I'm not usually terribly fussed about writing fight scenes, because I suck at them, but I quite enjoyed that.

I hope it wasn't too confusing with Phil thinking of Bucky as James again.

Please review!