Not gonna lie, this chapter gave me hell. I can't even count the number of times I've rewritten it. At this point I'm tired of delaying the update and even more tired of looking at the same words over and over, so here it is. This one might get rewritten at some point, but no more lengthy delays for chapters from now on, promise. Also, feel free to nag me about updates! I need all the pressure I can get. - strike
When Dr. Nikolav said he knew a realtor who owed him a favour, I hadn't expected it to be someone quite like this. From her perfectly styled blonde hair to her manicured nails and Louboutin pumps, Ms. Irina Lewis looks like the kind of person who works for very rich, very niche clientele—not the kind of realtor I can afford.
Makes me wonder how she's acquainted with my former professor… academics and realtors don't exactly occupy the same social circles.
This is the third place she's shown us, and I've written it off almost as soon as we walked through the door on account of the thin walls and sounds of people arguing in the other apartments. A shame… because it's dirt cheap compared to the other places we've seen.
It's not until I feel Bucky's piercing stare that I realize a question has been asked and I'm supposed to answer.
"Oh. Sorry, Irina. I was just… Thinking about the logistics of moving everything with that tiny elevator. Please, go on." I plaster an apologetic smile on my face.
"Well, you told me that you didn't mind whether it was an apartment or a house, but now that we've seen a couple places, I just wanted to see if you've developed any preference." She smiles back, and a pretty dimple appears on her cheek.
Did she date Nikolav in the past, maybe?
"It's not that I don't have a preference, per se. A house would be nice, but trying to rent a full one near the university would probably be impossible. And we uh… can't do roommates." I frown.
This statement has evidently piqued her curiosity, because her gaze flits between us like she's trying to figure out what we are. Dating? Friends? Really anti-social acquaintances? I'm amused to see her eyes stray towards my hand in search of a ring, only to find it bare.
She gives up rather quickly and returns to the topic at hand.
"What about you? Any preferences?" She looks at Bucky.
"Whatever she wants." He avoids her gaze, focussing his attention on the hardwood floor. He was talking so much yesterday that his return to silence is a little bit jarring.
"As long it has two bedrooms, and one and a half or two bathrooms, it's fine with me." I shrug. Irina laughs.
"I've certainly dealt with much pickier clients… Anyway, I do have one place in mind that might suit you two. It's a little bit quirky though." She purses her lips, turns suddenly and walks back to the entrance of the apartment.
I feel a pull on my sleeve as I turn to follow her.
"You okay?" Bucky angles his head slightly as he evaluates me.
"Fine." I reply with a faint smile, "Distracted, is all."
He holds my gaze a moment too long, and I get the feeling he wants to question further. He doesn't, and we're on our way again, back in Irina's massive SUV as she merges onto the congested street.
"You guys are awfully lenient about all this. I hope Vitaly hasn't coerced you into using my services." She adjusts her rear-view mirror while we idle at a red light.
"Oh, no." I shake my head, "He said you owe him a favour, actually. I hope we're not imposing on you."
"Nonsense." She laughs, "He's letting me off easy, considering what I owe him. It was my turn to take our mother out to dinner last month, but I had a last minute client appointment so he took her out instead."
I must have looked surprised to hear the words "our mother", because she laughs again.
"Yes, we may not look related, but Vitaly is my older brother."
Before I have a chance to mention my surprise at this revelation, she turns her pretty grey eyes upon me.
"Enough about me. How are you two acquainted?"
She finally got her opportunity to ask, and I'm so amused that I can't help but smile.
"Friends. Through work." I reply, thankful that she worded the question so tactfully.
"Ahh. I have to say I was very curious. My brother never mentioned it." She returns her eyes to the road as we take a left turn. I dread that she might bring up more personal questions—where did you meet? how long have you known each other?—but she doesn't.
We've entered the tiny shopping district a few blocks away from the university, its quiet street lined with two-story European-style apartments with storefronts.
Irina parks the car in a short alley between two shops, and I find myself confused as she takes us to the front steps of one of the buildings.
The pristine-kept porch and white outer façade are lovely, but there's no sign in the window indicating what kind of business it might be—just plantation style shutters.
"Is there an apartment above this shop?" I ask, looking up at the second-floor windows.
"It's actually not a shop." She smiles as she unlocks the front door, "This area used to be residential, and the owners refused to sell their house back when a developer bought out the other buildings and had them re-zoned for commercial use. Now that the owners are looking to buy a home overseas, they're attempting to rent this one out for the year, and then they'll be selling it."
I'm slightly pessimistic about my ability to rent a whole house, especially one that has such a decent location. Still, it's worth a look I suppose.
The front door opens into a very white, very Scandinavian open-concept living space leading into a small kitchen in the rear of the house. It's tinier than other places I've stayed, but there's a lot of natural light and the space itself feels airy.
No room for a dining table set, but it's not like I throw dinner parties anyway. The bar stool-type chairs at the kitchen island are sufficient.
"Did I mention that it comes fully furnished? And the furniture is brand new. Of course, if you decide to buy the house at the end of the year, you can keep it." Irina watches me expectantly, and I know she hopes to see some kind of excitement.
It all sounds very lovely, but with a research assistant salary and only a small percentage of savings I can put on a mortgage deposit, I doubt home ownership will be on my horizon in one year.
Besides, I don't know how long Bucky plans to stick around, and I don't want to tie myself down to a specific place in the meanwhile.
"Don't say anything." Irina latches on to my hesitance, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder, "Just look at the house first."
So we do.
Irina makes a great show of taking us down to the basement; apparently the former owner managed to salvage an old bank vault door and had repurposed it for the basement door.
I was expecting a family room, but instead we find a mini gym, complete with a set of weights, chin-up bar, and a punching bag suspended from the ceiling. I'm not sure I'd have any use for this stuff, but a quick glance at Irina's face suggests that she seems to have targeted this portion of the house at Bucky.
"Great, isn't it? You certainly look like the type of person who would make use of this." She studies him with a smile. Predictably, he doesn't respond. I hope she doesn't take his silence personally.
Lastly, we head up to the second floor, which is arguably the only problematic area of the house. There's only one bathroom, though at least it's separate from either bedroom.
What's not separate are the bedrooms themselves. In some kind of bizarre architectural decision, the two rooms are connected by a walk-in closet.
"As I said, the house is a little quirky." Irina shrugs, a hopeful smile on her face. "It was originally one bedroom plus an office, hence the closet connection."
"Okay, so putting that weirdness aside, how much is it going to cost?" I brace myself for the answer.
"The rent will be about 2,500 a month. As I mentioned though, the house will be going up for sale at the end of the year, so you may want to consider making an offer then if you like it."
I mull over the information carefully. Handing over a two month rent deposit will be an expensive pain, let alone buying the actual house.
"I want both of you to think about it." Irina smiles, glancing between us, "The area's pretty quiet for a hip neighbourhood—you can go out on the town, walk to the university… It's a hot property."
She's right, of course.
It's hot, but my wallet will be hotter once that rent fee burns a hole in it.
I put the pencil down and rub my face, trying to make sense of the numbers swimming on the page. I've been at it ever since we got back—or rather, I got back. Bucky insisted on going for a walk immediately after we left Irina's office. That was this morning. It's now evening, and he still hasn't returned.
It's not like I don't have other concerns to keep me occupied, though. Rent, bills, moving costs. It's not cheap. I might have to turn down Dr. Nikolav's research assistant job offer and find a better paying position elsewhere… maybe outside of academia.
I pick up my cell phone and punch his number in. Maybe he'll have some advice to offer—and I should thank him for introducing me to his sister.
When he finally picks up, he sounds as over-caffeinated and jumpy as the night before a major deadline.
"Hey Dr. Nikolav, sorry if I caught you at the wrong time… You sound exhausted. Are you alright?"
"No, no, I'm fine. I was just about to call you, actually."
"…Why?" I draw the question out hesitantly. He sounds far too relieved to hear my voice, and a niggling worry eats away at my conscience. Please don't tell me something terrible happened.
"I know things might be hard for you, returning to a research lab after… Shield. I saw that you weren't quite comfortable with the idea of being an RA, and I don't want to push you into something you don't want to do."
He interrupts me before I can respond.
"We're actually in quite a tight spot at the moment in the department though—Dr. Singh went into early labour yesterday night."
"Dr. Singh? Is she okay?" I frown. I didn't run into her on our visit yesterday… nobody told me she was pregnant. I would have expected Alma to mention something at least.
"Her son is 2 months premature, but they're both doing well. The problem is that she's only partway through the summer introductory psychology course she was teaching, and we desperately need a fill-in."
"That's unfortunate." In the silence that follows I realize exactly why he called.
"Wait—you're not calling to ask me—"
"I am. It would be a great help. You're Dr. Singh's first choice, Elise. She said you did well as a teaching assistant in her courses, and you know all of her material."
I glance down at the notepad in front of me. An adjunct professor's salary will make things a little easier, even if it's only a temporary gig. Better than a research assistant's pay.
"Okay. I'll do it."
"Fantastic! Your first class is Monday night, by the way. I'll have the office sort everything out over the weekend, check your email until then. I've got to go now, my wife will murder me if I don't get home soon."
"Alright. Thanks, Dr. Nikolav." I hang up just as the backyard door opens, and Bucky enters carrying a black briefcase.
He crosses the floor, places it on the counter in front of me, then moves to the kitchen sink. I put my pencil down, my brows furrowed in confusion as I watch him fill a glass of water.
His eyes remain fixed on me as he empties the glass, then places it quietly in the sink, leaning back against the edge of the counter.
"Open the case." He nods towards the leather briefcase.
Getting major deja-vu vibes from all those shady drug-deal/mafia scenes from tv.
I oblige with some uncertainty, unzipping the main compartment to find stacks of hundred dollar bills.
"It's $50,000." Bucky replies, answering my unspoken question. It only serves to spawn about ten more in my mind, two of which take precedence.
"Okay, but why? And where did you get it?"
"Payment for mercenary jobs." He runs his fingers through his hair, "And money stolen from Hydra. Anyway, I want you to have it."
"I can't—"
"What are you going to say, that you can't take anything from me because I don't owe you? Or that it's dirty money and that's why you can't take it?" He steps forward so that he's now standing directly across from me at the breakfast bar, his eyes locked on mine.
I open my mouth to respond, think better of it, and shut it again.
"I do owe you, you can't deny it." He continues, his tone gentler, "And so does Hydra. They can't even begin to repay the debt they owe to all the people they've hurt."
I don't have the nerve to argue with him on that point. Of all the people Hydra owes, he's first and foremost. Still, I think he knows as well as I do that money isn't going to heal the wounds they opened. Only time can do that.
"I don't need it, though." I reply quietly, pushing the briefcase gently back towards him.
"But you do. I know you want that house." His eyes flicker towards the scratched out numbers on my notepad, and I feel helplessly out-argued. He's right. The adjunct professor position is only for the summer, and then I'll be back to square one. Might have to move again too.
"If you take the money, I'll consider my debt to you settled." He pushes the briefcase back towards me, "At least consider it payment in advance for rent, if you don't want to think about it like a repayment."
I raise a questioning eyebrow at this, and he briefly averts his gaze.
"You know that I can't legally work with this status. I'm off the grid, and I don't intend to go back… not yet. I don't mind helping your professor, but I can't be paid for it the normal way."
I resist the urge to sigh. There's no point in fighting this. Taking the money is the smart decision, even if it's embarrassing and slightly morally questionable.
"Still… fifty thousand for rent… that's overkill." I smile, "How long are we gonna be roommates?"
"For now." His blue eyes meet mine, and I find myself momentarily lost in them as Sena's words tumble into my brain. I really wish she hadn't planted those thoughts in my mind.
"There's one more thing… I need to collect some things from a safe house. Guns and ammunition, mostly." He doesn't seem to notice my moment of weakness.
Focus, Elise. Focus.
"How do you know they're still there? Didn't Hydra attack you?"
"They've been eliminated." He looks at me coolly, and an unsettling chill sweeps over me.
Relax. This is probably a pretty normal, nonchalant thing for him to report.
"Alright." I shrug, fighting to keep my tone casual, "When do you want to go?"
He falters for a second, as if he hadn't expected me to agree to his request.
"Now, ideally." He frowns, "I can't be sure that others haven't come to look for the ones I killed."
I push my stool back and grab my phone from the counter.
"Well, let's go then."