Morning and its warm trickling sunlight was calling her, tugging her from the arms of sleep, but she ignored it as best she could and snuggled deeper into the sheets. Laying on her front with both hands up near her face, she had just about drifted back into blessed sleep when gentle shifting beside her and what felt suspiciously like a kiss to her shoulder kept her hovering between sleep and wakefulness.
Still, she kept her eyes shut, following the heaviness behind them back into dreamland, knowing she had today off and could sleep as late as David allowed her to, and that was usually pretty late these days.
She felt the sheet that was pulled up to her neck being slowly pulled down to her hips, but the room was warm and the slight coolness that hit her bare back didn't bother her. Nothing was going to stop her from the last bit of sleep that she was chasing.
Nothing except for a nearly ice-cold metal finger trailing down from the back of her neck to the bottom of her spine. She shivered against her will, muscles tightening in her automatic response to the cold touch, but she still kept her eyes closed and pretended that it hadn't jarred her into full wakefulness.
Even if that touch hadn't done it, the soft, warm kisses that heated her skin back up as they trailed lazily and sweetly from the base of her spine all the way up to the space between her shoulder blades certainly did. Bucky's lips lingered there as he drew all of her hair away from her face, and she heard him chuckle when he saw the smile on her face that she had been trying to hide. He kissed her cheek gently and said, "How long have you been awake?"
"... Since you kissed my shoulder," she admitted, cracking her eye open to look up at him as he leaned over her. "But that doesn't mean you have to stop."
"Wasn't planning on it," he replied, kissing the back of her neck. "Actually, I was kinda wanting to wake you up a different way, but it would have been hard with how you're laying..."
"Aw, man," she groaned for having missed out on that, turning over on her back as he laid on his side next to her. "Tomorrow, maybe?"
He smirked and snaked his arm around her as he nodded, pulling her in so that she was laying against him with her back to his chest. She closed her eyes as he buried his nose in her mess of hair, kissing her head, and she muttered tiredly, "I need to go check if David's still sleeping."
"He is," Bucky replied, again moving her hair out of the way so that he could kiss under her ear. "I checked right before you woke up."
"Really?" she asked, opening her eyes and smiling in slight surprise. "But... you're naked."
"I wasn't when I checked."
Her smile widened and she craned her neck to look back at him. "So you threw some clothes on, walked like ten steps down the hall, then came back and got naked again to wake me up all sexy?" She didn't know why, but she wanted to giggle at the images that gave her.
He considered those words for a minute and then replied. "More or less."
Then she did giggle, and he pressed his lips to hers with a slight grin on his face.
Ah, how she loved the quiet, lazy mornings here in this bed with him. They could waste the whole morning and it would feel like no more than an hour had gone by, and it seemed like there was something extra special about this particular morning.
Maybe that was because mornings following super secret, dangerous missions at burlesque clubs and unexpected, very long, utterly ridiculous professor/student roleplaying sex were just extra awesome.
It sounded almost stupid when put into those words, but aside from the briefly terrifying moments of the mission at the club, the day was going on her list of all-time favorites. Hands down. She had gotten to dress up and be blonde for the first time in her life, see Bucky in action and taking down a roomful of men without breaking a sweat, beat up a guy who had thrown a bomb at her with a riding crop of all things, and then got to come home and spiral into the world's most pleasant shock over how enthusiastic Bucky ended up being about her spontaneous storytelling. If someone had asked her before that if she had ever considered doing the "roleplay" thing with him, she probably would have found it weird and not seriously considered it, but the way that he made it happen and encouraged her to take it as far as they had... she was still pure mush.
And now it was all quiet breaths and soft kisses and touches as they lounged under the sheets, the opposite of what it had been last night. Her back was still to his chest and her hand was stretched up behind her so that her fingers could tangle in his hair as he kissed her slowly, like he had all the time in the world to just feel her and slowly drive her insane. His right arm under the pillow beneath her head, his left hand left its place on her hip to move up her side, then over her breast where it cupped and squeezed gently, and it was almost like having a rather large ice cube dragged over her skin, especially in contrast to the warmth of the room and the bed. She couldn't hide how much she liked it, though, shivering pleasantly as the hand moved down to her stomach and leisurely slid across her skin.
As much as she loved him teasing her into oblivion, she wasn't sure that she could take an hour or more of it this morning, not when images and sounds from the night before were so fresh in her head. Things like the way he had sounded when growled things in Russian to her that she didn't have to understand to know that they were filthy, the way that he had completely embraced his "role" and became slightly more domineering than usual as a result, and the way that he had moaned shamelessly loudly when she had pushed him into the small chair behind his desk and proceeded to spend so long on her knees that she was fairly sure there would be bruises today - because that last one was just a requirement for any decent professor fantasy. That was just the rules.
One Russian word that he had taught her during the course of the night floated to her mind as he kissed her neck, metal hand continuing its teasing path and currently sliding down her leg. She gave his hair a slight tug with her fingers and he lifted his head, letting her pull him down to kiss his lips before murmuring against them, "Uchitel."
It didn't matter that she was very likely butchering the word meaning teacher with her very American pronunciation of it, because his reaction was instant, first in a slight growl that she felt rumble through his chest into her back, and then he was looking down at her and smiling in a way that made her heart soar.
That was the other thing she loved about mornings like these. The sweet, contented way that he smiled at her as they whiled away the morning told her that there was nowhere else he would rather be, nowhere he would rather wake up than next to wherever she was.
To have found someone who looked at her and smiled at her the way that he did, and who was even willing to pretend to be her professor for a night and end up getting into it possibly even slightly more than she had - it made her fairly sure that she was the luckiest human being alive.
That thought was confirmed when he kissed her more deeply than he had so far that morning, then slowly dragged his hand up and down the inside of her thigh before it started vibrating softly. She jumped in surprise but recovered quickly, smiling into their kiss and then gasping into his mouth when his hand moved higher.
Oh yeah, she decided. She was the very definition of lucky.
The morning passed by in the most pleasant of hazes, and the only problem was that by the time he let her catch her breath, she was worn out all over again and ready to fall back asleep. He then dragged her out of bed and into the shower, claiming that it would wake her up, and in a way, it did. The contrast of a cold arm holding her up against cold tiles underneath the steady stream of hot water with an equally warm body pressed to hers was definitely just as stimulating as a cup of coffee would have been.
Though her legs had long since turned to noodles and her head was floating up somewhere near Mars, she did manage to keep it together enough to walk out of the shower without falling on her face the way she sort of wanted to. Bucky had gotten out first, and as he stood there with a towel around his hips and hers in his hand, she shivered against the cold air and held out her hand impatiently.
"Hand it to me," she said, wiping some water out of her eyes that had dripped from her hair. "Kind of freezing here."
He held it out to her, but as soon as her fingers brushed it, he yanked it back with an amused grin.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm dripping everywhere!"
He raised his eyebrows and then looked her from top to bottom, smirk seemingly painted on his face today. "I've noticed."
She wiggled her fingers impatiently. "Give it!"
He finally handed her the thing, still grinning after she snatched it and wrapped it around herself, tucking it under her arms and going to the sink. As she cleared the foggy mirror with her hand, Bucky said from behind her, "I did that to test a theory."
She reached for her hairbrush on the sink as he came closer and then leaned back against the counter. She looked up at him and asked, "What? That I have a hidden superpower of self-drying after showers?"
He chuckled through his nose. "No. But I've noticed something for a long time." When she gave him a look that told him to continue, he said, "When you're naked - unless we're in bed - you kind of slump your shoulders."
She furrowed her brows, pausing as she brushed though her hair. "... Well, I am lugging around two giant weights on my chest, so my posture sucks sometimes."
He grinned slightly but shook his head. "That's not what I mean. And even when we're in bed, most of the time you try to keep a sheet on you."
She looked at him blankly. "... Well, yeah."
"What I'm getting at is, I can tell when you do that with your shoulders and try to cover yourself up that it bothers you."
"What bothers me?"
"... Your body," he replied.
She looked from him to the mirror and found herself at a loss for what to say. Sure, she wasn't as comfortable prancing around naked as he was, but she was a different story than he was, and anyway, she didn't see how it really mattered, since it wasn't an issue when they were intimate or really an issue at all, as far as she could tell.
Just as she opened her mouth to say so, she felt a gentle tug and then her towel was gone, back in Bucky's hands, and she immediately turned to him with a half-squeaked "Hey!"
"See?" was all he said, gesturing to her shoulders. She looked down and realized what he had been talking about, and he was right - her previously straight shoulders were now slightly hunched, and she looked like she was curling slightly in on herself to try to compensate for her lack of clothing. In short, she looked wholly uncomfortable at the moment, and she had no clear reason as to why.
Point proven, he handed the towel back to her, but she didn't slide it back around herself. "Oh."
But he wasn't silent for long. His expression growing more serious, he turned towards her and then stepped behind her, taking her upper arms in his hands and saying, "Look in the mirror."
She wanted to cringe. Whatever he was doing, she was 99% sure that she didn't want him to.
The mirror was fairly large and from where they stood, she could see down to her knees in her reflection. She tried to look at anything else until his hands moved to her shoulders and gently rolled them back, fixing her posture. "This is how you should look. Whether you're naked or not."
She sighed. "Okay, okay, I get it."
"No you don't," he said, right hand moving underneath her chin and tipping it so that she was forced to hold her head high. "Summer, look at yourself."
She made a face but she did as he said anyway, and she could feel her face getting hot at the discomfort of it all. It took all of her self control to not stamp her foot like a kid. "Bucky..."
"How is it," he asked, "that you can wear those little dresses that barely cover you and you can surprise me on my birthday waiting naked in my bed but this makes you this uncomfortable?"
"... Because those things don't involve standing here staring at myself with my hair plastered down on my head and no makeup on and seeing everything I don't like about myself," she blurted. "If you want me to go down the list, I will."
"I want you to see what I see," he said. "And I want you to feel good about yourself."
"Compared to how I used to be, I feel pretty good," she shrugged, still trying not to cringe at how he was still holding her shoulders back. "A year ago I never would have worn what I wear now. I never even wore high heels and I would use the same tube of mascara for like two years. And I was lucky if I brushed my hair once every like three days."
"I know," he replied. "And I don't want you to change. Don't take what I'm saying the wrong way."
"Honestly, I don't know how you want me to take it," she said. Maybe this was just an overly long way of telling her she just really needed to work on her posture?
"I want you to really see yourself."
She gave herself a once-over in the mirror and squinted one eye as she said, "Moderately tall female with giant knockers and too-skinny legs, plus a few stretch marks on my hips in case I ever forget I pushed a human being out of me? Oh, and a weird nose."
He furrowed his brows. "How is your nose weird?"
"Mark used to tease me about my witch nose." She got the feeling she shouldn't have said that particular name, because Bucky's gaze on her in the mirror darkened considerably. "I mean he's an idiot, obviously, but... it is kind of pointy."
Bucky stayed silent for a moment, drawing a steadying breath, and she suspected that his thoughts were somewhere along the lines of regretting that he hadn't killed her old boyfriend when he had the chance. In the end, he opted to ignore her comment and said, "You know how perfect I think you are. I've been telling you for a long time now. But I know you've never believed me."
"Nobody's perfect," she shrugged.
"You're pretty damn close."
She smiled and shook her head, then rolled her eyes as she turned her head and looked up at him. "You're ridiculous."
His fingers turned her chin back to the mirror and he said in an utterly serious, very convincing manner, "You are beautiful. You're strong. You're the kind of woman who would rather whip a man's face with a riding crop instead of going for a knife strapped to your leg."
She snorted, smiling a little. "What kind is that?"
He brushed his lips against her hair and replied, "The kind I'd kill for."
She was pretty sure she wasn't supposed to find that as arousing as she did. Clearly, she had been around superheroes and assassins for too long.
"You're selfless," he said. "Almost too selfless. Brave. Smart. Powerful."
She almost choked. "Powerful?" This coming from a man who could snap a tree in half if he wanted to, while she was lucky if she could get pickle jars open?
"I'm wrapped around your finger, Summer," he said softly, eyes locked on hers in the mirror. "I'd be a puppet on your string if you asked me to be."
Jaw dropping slightly at all of this, she replied, "I'd never do that."
"I know. And that's why I love you."
There was a lump in her throat that she couldn't swallow down, and this had not gone as expected... at all. She had no idea what to say, so she kept her mouth shut, eyes closing briefly when he placed a gentle kiss on her head.
"Do you believe me?"
"That you love me?" she asked.
"Everything I said," he replied.
"... I believe that you believe it. But you're also kind of biased, being in love with me and all." He sighed in response, leaning his head back in an exasperated kind of way, and she smiled before adding, "Look, keep in mind that I've spent my whole life never feeling good enough for anything and just... not being used to hearing these kinds of things, especially from guys. Except my brother. So it's gonna take me awhile to really feel what you're saying myself."
He nodded understandingly, considering her words for a moment before his hands, now on her sides, slid down to her hips. "I understand. But I'm gonna keep telling you these things until you believe me."
"Hey, have at it," she smiled. "I don't mind it at all."
He smiled back slightly and then kissed her under her ear, and she watched him in the mirror as his fingers tightened slightly and he said against her neck, "I don't want to see you slouching and trying to hide yourself anymore."
"Well... old habits die hard," she shrugged.
"... Maybe I just need to find a mirror and put it in my room so you can watch yourself ride me and see for yourself how amazing you are."
Her face flared up immediately, just the mere suggestion of what he said making her want to gape and be scandalized and extremely turned on all at the same time. He glanced up to catch her dumbfounded expression in the mirror and grinned that way that he did whenever he got that reaction out of her, and then he bent down to turn her head and kiss her. She barely noticed when one of his hands left her hips, grabbed her towel and then wrapped it back around her body. Once it was secure, he ended the kiss, pulled away and looked in her eyes for a moment before looking down at her nose, placing a soft little kiss on the tip of it, and then telling her, "And you don't have a witch nose."
She chuckled, and he pulled away with a smile. When she turned back to the mirror, relieved to be covered up again, her own smile lingered and she was grateful for his gentle way of pushing her slightly out of her comfort zone but then letting her crawl back into it after he had made his point. In a way, it was what she had always done with him when she tried to help him - little pushes and a lot of reassurances, but never trying to make him move at any pace other than his own.
She silently contemplated his words as they fell into a charmingly domestic routine, she brushing out her wet hair the rest of the way while he brushed his teeth next to her and then started combing through his own hair. She caught his eyes in the mirror and smiled, her brain starting to drift off into thoughts of what a life at a place of their own would be like. She still thought it just as much as she had at the farm, and she was still just as silent about the idea.
Once she was done and about to leave the bathroom, she turned and glanced at him as he continued to fiddle with his hair, looking pointedly at the towel still around his hips, "You know, next time you want me to stare at myself naked in the mirror for like ten minutes, you could at least be fair about it and be naked too."
She laughed when he then turned and glanced at her before grabbing the towel off of himself and tossing it at her.
Now that a considerable chunk of the morning was gone, she focused on grabbing some of the clothes she kept stashed in his dresser and then, once she was finally clothed, gathered up her things from the night before. Her dress was on the floor near his desk, though thankfully still in one piece, but her shoes were slightly harder to find. Bucky, now half dressed, ended up finding them for her, untangling a sheet at the foot of the bed and pulling them out from within it.
"You were still wearing them when you fell asleep," he said, handing them to her with a grin.
"The things I do for you," she sighed playfully, giving him a peck on the cheek. "I'm sure David's up by now so I'd better go."
He nodded, letting her go, but she wasn't halfway to the door when she heard him call, "Summer?"
She turned, smiling slightly. "Yeah?"
"Do you want to go out later?"
"Out? Out where?"
He shrugged. "Somewhere."
She smiled and asked, "Are you very vaguely asking me out on our third date, Bucky?"
His own grin briefly shrunk and confusion took over as he asked, "Only our third?"
She nodded. "Dinner and dancing was the first, second was Coney Island. Unless you count Tony's party, but I kinda feel like you need to leave the building you live and work in for it to really be a date. So this would be our third."
He raised his eyebrows and then dropped them. "Then we definitely need to go out."
She smiled and nodded happily. "Okay. Let me figure out who would watch David and then we can talk about where to go."
He smiled and nodded back, and she all but bounced out of his room and down to hers. She had a feeling that a particularly good day was ahead of her.
"I still can't get over yesterday."
Bucky smiled slightly at Summer at the table, chewing on a mouthful of the breakfast she'd made, like the rest of the table. Steve looked particularly peppy today, and Natasha gave Summer a look over her cup of coffee and said, "The part where you turned a riding crop into a weapon or the part where you got to see your first night of real action?"
"...Both," Summer replied. David chomped on cereal obliviously beside her and was happily banging on his tablet, playing on a piano app, as she continued, "And your dance. How do you do that?"
Natasha grinned at the admiring way that Summer asked the question and replied, "I've basically danced my whole life. It's second nature."
"Well," Summer said with wide eyes, "you're just... amazing, seriously. And it was amazing."
Bucky glanced at Steve, who was quietly eating, and when the other man glanced up, Bucky grinned at him in a way that made Steve grin back with a faint blush. He hadn't had a chance yet to ask Steve exactly how much he had died inside when Natasha literally stripped away her costume that was intentionally made with his colors. He was pretty sure it was at least a contributing factor to how good of a mood he was in today.
"It was fun," Natasha nodded, also glancing at Steve and smiling a little at his expression.
"That's one of the things I liked so much about it," Summer said. "You really looked like you were having fun. I mean, I could never do it, but now I see why some women do."
"Hey, you don't know that until you try," Natasha replied lightly. "If you wanted, I could teach you."
Bucky choked on the coffee he was drinking and then started coughing. He looked up then to find Summer and Natasha both grinning at his reaction, and when he turned to Steve, he found only upturned eyebrows and pure amusement at his expense.
He couldn't even imagine what he had just heard. Usually, he pictured everything he heard the minute it reached his ears, for better or worse. This time, just attempting to imagine it left the equivalent of a nuclear bomb shorting out his very ability to imagine anything.
"Yeah... no," Summer eventually replied. "I mean, have you seen me dance?"
Before Natasha could reply, Bucky snapped out his temporary daze and narrowed his eyes. "You're decent now. I know. I've taught you."
She then fumbled for words for a moment before her faint blush rose a little and she shook her head, "That's... totally different. What you've taught me and burlesque is like... night and day."
"Maybe not as much as you might think," Natasha winked, glancing briefly at Bucky. "You'll never know unless you try."
Summer glanced at Bucky, whose jaw was currently rather tight, and she smiled nervously before shaking her head again. "I... no. Nope. I know my limits."
"Fair enough," Natasha shrugged. "But the offer stands."
Bucky stared at his coffee cup, still trying to imagine just the suggestion of what he was hearing and still coming up short. Maybe it was for the best - despite the rather tiring morning he'd already had, he would likely end up sitting at the table much longer than was necessary to un-excite himself if he had been successful.
But he had a feeling that his thoughts were written on his face, judging by the way that Summer smiled at him in her still-slightly-shy kind of way and then looked down at her plate.
Well, a man could dream.
"Speaking of dancing," Natasha sighed, leaning back in her seat, "that really was fun. Kind of got me in the dancing mood." She brushed Steve's shoulder then and smiled, "You ought to take me dancing."
Steve raised his eyebrows and then said, "I can do that. Don't we have work to do today, though?"
She shrugged. "Some, but the computers do most of this part of the work for us." She then smiled and said, "You should know this by now."
Steve just smiled and shrugged back, and then Summer chirped, "We were gonna go out later, too. We should all go! Like a double date!"
"Oh boy," Natasha chuckled. "I've heard about the double dates these boys used to do back in their day."
"Let's not even go there," Steve said in a slightly pained way. "But I think it's a great idea. How about you, Bucky?"
Bucky shrugged with a small smile. "Why not?"
Summer then clapped with glee, and as usual, it was hard to not catch some of her enthusiasm. Then she started babbling to Natasha about what to wear, and as the girls had their talk, Steve leaned slightly across the table and said, "I don't know what surprises me more - that we're actually doing the double date thing again, seventy years later, or that these two get along this well now."
Bucky glanced their way and then replied, "What do you think they talk about when we're not here?"
Bucky imagined clandestine talks over drinks where they plotted how to further ensnare the men that were already wrapped around their fingers, Natasha probably filling Summer's head with the sorts of ideas that made Bucky forget how to breathe. Then again, he knew her mind was diabolical enough all on its own. And that was what made her having Natasha for a close friend all the more dangerous.
"... Probably about the same as what we talk about," Steve shrugged.
"High heels, lipstick, measurements," Bucky rattled off while Steve chuckled and nodded. Steve liked heels but not to the same degree as Bucky, just as Bucky liked lipstick but not quite like Steve did, or more specifically, red lipstick, as well as the color red in general. As far as measurements went, they had long established that Summer won in terms of bra size. Steve had tried to actually challenge that initially, only to be proven wrong in the time it took both men to go to their rooms and check the tags on bras that had been left behind, as if they were teenagers and not very serious soldiers in their late nineties.
"You know what's great?" Steve mused. "All this time and David still looks at Nat like she's gonna turn into the wicked witch any minute."
"Maybe he knows something we don't," Bucky teased. "He's a pretty smart kid."
"Yeah, he is," Steve agreed.
"So, that outfit," Bucky said casually, giving Steve a look. "Recovered yet?"
"Nope," Steve freely admitted.
"How far did she... take it?" Bucky asked in mild curiosity, since he and Summer had gone up to the VIP room in the middle of Nat's dance.
"Well... she finished it... later," Steve replied, unable to wipe the stupid smile from his face.
"Very patriotic of her," Bucky said dryly, and Steve couldn't help but laugh.
"Okay!" Bucky suddenly heard Summer say as she got up from the table and grabbed her plate. "So we'll leave around four, then?"
Natasha nodded, getting up as well. "Sounds good to me."
Steve looked around in slight confusion. "What did they say? Where are we going?"
"Guess we'll find out later," Bucky shrugged, finishing his coffee. It didn't matter to him where they went, and since Summer had yet to do anything that he genuinely disliked in this area, he fully trusted their date to her.
For all the uncertainty and fear that followed him around like shadows that he could never fully shake, that day, he felt distinctly at peace. Not an all-encompassing peace, but one that allowed him to turn off the voices in his head and get used to having days like these, with the girl he loved and friends who cared about him, and it felt good.
The smile that crossed his face when Summer walked by his chair and bent down to happily kiss his cheek before heading back to her room was as instant and genuine as all the others she pulled out of him. Smiling came a lot more easy now than it used to, and the only person Bucky thought might be more happy about it was Steve, who was still sitting across from him and looking incredibly relieved and happy that so much had gone right for him. He was far from the never-smiling, rarely-speaking, HYDRA-obsessed thing he had once been.
HYDRA would always be there, in his mind, to certain extents, and he would never fully rest until he was satisfied that they were no longer a threat. But where they were the whole of his existence before, even after escaping them, now they were an ever-shrinking facet to a much larger life that really did feel like a real life the more he lived it.
And maybe, he thought, maybe that was the real way to defeat them.
A little boy clambering into the seat next to him nudged him out of his thoughts, and he looked down to find David handing him his tablet. Bucky took it, looking at it and finding it on a level of one of David's app games. Sometimes David would do this when he needed help with a level, so Bucky didn't need to ask what he was supposed to do. As he started playing, he felt David's head come to rest lightly on his arm as he watched him play. As much as David had warmed up to him and was indeed often all but attached to him these days, little things like these brought a sense of warmth within that still caught Bucky by surprise.
And warmth was something a man of his history would never, ever take for granted.
To Summer's excitement, Bucky let her dress him for the day - to a point. When she had scoured his closet and automatically went for the leather pants he had worn on their second date, holding them up for him to see with a giant smile on her face, his responding slight cringe made her pout, but she put the pants back anyway. As a compromise, she got him to wear the leather jacket she hadn't seen in awhile and paired it with black jeans and a white button-down shirt.
"I bet it's nice not having to worry about covering up your arm anymore when you go out," she said as he pulled the jacket on, sitting down on the edge of his bed as he finished getting ready.
"It is," Bucky said, turning and running a hand through his hair. "But I got so used to the metal that now it's weird looking down and seeing it look normal with just the push of a button."
To illustrate his point, he shifted his arm and the image of it blurred and then settled into a mirror image of his flesh arm. Summer nodded, looking at his hand and saying, "Yeah... I like it better the way it is. Always have."
"I know," he grinned at her slightly, turning then to find his shoes to put on.
The sound of David's piano app then started wafting in from the hallway, then became louder as he walked in through the open door to Bucky's room. He didn't look up once, instead just walking towards Summer and then plopping down on the floor at her feet, where he continued to tap away at the screen. She leaned forward some and watched as he tapped one or two keys over and over, at different paces and rhythms, like he was really trying to get a feel for what they sounded like.
Then Bucky standing in front of both of them stole her attention, shoving a hat down on his head and asking, "Ready?"
"Yeah, but..." She made a slight face at the sight of the hat and then said, "That really doesn't go with what you're wearing, and - I hate to break it to you - but hats don't really go that far in the way of disguises."
He looked at her blankly. "But..."
"I have a better idea," she said, getting up and off the bed, pulling down the lace-trimmed hem of her dark blue dress as she walked over to his dresser and started rummaging around with the stuff scattered atop it until she found what she was looking for. "Aha! This is slightly better for staying incognito."
She then turned and, with a smile, walked up to him and took off his hat, then gently slid a pair of aviator sunglasses on his face. They were the result of one of his several shopping trips, the ones where he inexplicably came home with bags and bags of clothes that looked like some rather skilled stylist had picked them all out for him, but he had never touched the sunglasses until now.
And she immediately groaned as soon as she stepped back to look at him. "You look like a complete douche."
His eyebrows furrowed. "Douche?"
"In a good way," she replied. "Like the 'sexy and I know it' kind of guy who probably deflowered half the female population of Brooklyn in his day. Not that that's a good thing, exactly, but... you get my point."
He grinned at her remark and then slid the glasses off, placing them in a zippered pocket of his jacket as he replied, "For the record, half the female population of Brooklyn was more than two, even back in the 30s and 40s."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Two?" Then her expression grew curious. "Do you just wake up on certain days and just randomly remember the girls you slept with? Like... 'Oh, that's right, I banged Sandra!' or something?" When he opened his mouth to reply, she said, "Never mind. I don't want to know about Sandra. Was there a Sandra?"
He shook his head, smiling a little at her rambling. "No."
"Good. I guess."
"There was an Shirley," he shrugged.
She held up a hand. "Sweet. Cool. Never mind."
He shifted his eyes upwards, like he was carefully considering something, and he said, "I think she was in her late thirties. Or early forties."
Summer's eyes then widened and she whispered, "Are you telling me you did the 'Desperate Housewives' thing?! How old were you?!"
He shrugged slightly helplessly. "I honestly have no idea."
Summer rolled her eyes. "I thought the MILF thing was a modern invention." When the term went over Bucky's head, she muttered, "Mother I'd like to... y'know, frick."
"Oh," he smiled. Then he shot her a look and said playfully, "So that's what you are."
"Don't even," she said warningly, though she couldn't help but a smile a little as she turned away from him and then headed towards David, who was still sitting on the floor with his tablet. She knelt down in front of him, getting his attention as she said cheerfully, "Ready to spend a couple hours with Darcy and show her how much she sucks at Mario Kart?"
He nodded, but she could tell that he looked a little sad that she was leaving again after yesterday. She felt a little pang of guilt, since her days off usually weren't spent away from him, so she touched his cheek and said, "Hey, it's just a few hours, and then you'll have me for the rest of the night. And then on my next day off, I'll take you somewhere fun. We'll get ice cream and go to the park. Just you and me. How's that sound?"
She got her answer when David pointed to Bucky, his face only brightening up a bit when she bit back a smile and said, "He can come too." Satisfied, David stood up, tucked the tablet under his arm and then headed out to the living room all on his own.
She sighed as Bucky came to stand next to her. "I'm chopped liver now compared to you."
"Sorry."
She looked up at him and smiled. "Don't be. I'm incredibly happy."
She then kissed his cheek, still smiling as she turned and headed for the door with him right behind her.
And when Summer hugged David goodbye out in the living room, in the midst of telling Darcy that she was now one of her favorite people in the world and would make her a cake of her own in return for all of her help lately, she then kissed the boy's forehead and straightened up only to watch David then run up to Bucky for a fleeting but very cute goodbye hug of his own. And the best part of it, she thought, was how Bucky returned the hug with a small but warm smile on his face.
She thought that she really should be used to seeing that now, especially after both of their birthdays, but she just wasn't. She melted all over again at every sign of affection between the two, and just like that, she wanted to throw herself at Bucky and half-jokingly beg him to let her have his children.
Steve and Natasha were already downstairs waiting for them, so when Summer and Bucky got into the elevator, they were alone, and Summer focused all of her energy on keeping the word vomit inside as the doors closed in front of them.
As the elevator moved down, she felt his hand brush aside the hair on her shoulder. "I like this dress."
She liked it too. It fit like a glove and let her feel sexy without having everything on display, since its neckline cut just under her collarbone, and its half-sleeves were nice for semi-chilly days like the current one. Not that she was thinking about any of that.
"Me too." I want like eight and a half of your babies.
"We must be going dancing if you dressed up like this."
She stared at the changing floor numbers "Maybe." You'd make such pretty babies. It would be worth the puking and the labor and the general misery of it all.
"So you're gonna let other people see you dance for once?"
"Might as well." Babies. So many babies. And boobs the size of Australia.
"Whatare you thinking about?"
She turned and found him watching her with a mix of curiosity and amusement. She blinked and blurted out the first thing that came to mind that technically wasn't a lie. "Boobs." She cringed. "Mine."
He eyebrows scrunched up as he smiled at the same time. "Really."
"Yup."
"They are distracting," he agreed.
Not as distracting as picturing you holding a baby. She sighed at that one, willing her stupid brain to shut up. They weren't ready for that talk yet, and besides, she didn't know how serious even she was about the thoughts currently engulfing her mind. No need to let them slip out and needlessly freak him out.
He leaned in slightly and remarked, "You're even worse than Steve at lying."
She nodded her agreement. Spy material, she was not. "Pretty much."
Walking the streets with his best friend on one side of him and his girl on the other felt so normal that it was bizarre. His right arm was slung over Summer's shoulders as they walked, and she would lean forward and say things that would make Steve laugh and Natasha comment back, and Bucky was in the middle of it, still just trying to feel completely used to the way the sun felt on his face.
Normal might never be really normal again, but damn if it didn't feel like a huge, cleansing breath of pure oxygen after having escaped a burning building.
They walked alongside oblivious pedestrians, people walking to or from work who only cared about where they were going next and not about who was walking among them. The anonymity was refreshing, but after they turned a corner and passed a couple of teenage girls on their cell phones who looked up and gaped slightly before unsubtly snapping a picture as they passed by, Bucky's paranoia kicked in. Though he kept walking, he turned and stared with suddenly narrowed eyes that were hidden by his sunglasses until Summer tugged on his jacket and said lightly, "Calm down. They thought you were an actor, I heard them."
He looked at her in confusion. "An actor?"
"Yeah. Actually, I can see the resemblance. I'll show you a picture later. But the point is," she smiled, "don't worry about the teenage girls."
He believed her, so he tried to set his paranoia aside for the time being. Then, a moment later, he felt Summer start dragging him by his hand towards some store while Steve and Nat headed across the street towards a different one.
"Come on, there's a sale!" she said happily, and he craned his neck slightly to see the sign above the building.
"Where are we going?"
"Your dream place," she glanced behind her and grinned. "A shoe store!"
He rolled his eyes but grinned as he followed her inside, her hand leaving his once the door closed behind them. His hands went into the pockets of his jacket as a habit, and suddenly he was surrounded by some of the most ridiculously expensive women's shoes he had ever seen. One casual glance around spotted a pair of sky-high heels covered in rhinestones with straps that twisted and twirled all the way up to the knee of a mannequin leg, and the display beneath them said they were on sale for $600.
He was pretty sure that was an outrageous price in any century.
"Like those?" Summer asked cheekily, reappearing at his side as he stared. "I'd starve for a month if I bought them, but I could try them on for you."
Before he could stammer out an answer, there was a friendly voice behind them, and by the third word, he knew who it belonged to and he could not believe that this was happening again.
"Hey, guys, need any help finding what you're looking for?"
He closed his eyes and drew a breath. Clearly, this man really did work everywhere.
"Oh, no," Summer answered, turning around to smile at the man. "We're okay here, just looking."
Bucky glanced behind him, deciding to just get it over with, and as soon as Esteban took half a glance at him, he gasped with glee and smiled so widely that Summer looked from him to Bucky in confusion for the split second that it took Esteban to finally form words.
"Oh my God. You know, I'm starting to think you're stalking me there, mister."
Bucky glanced at Summer, who was now smiling and still very confused, and then he replied, "I swear I don't know why this keeps happening."
"What keeps happening?" Summer asked,
"Oh honey," Esteban said, placing a hand on his chest, "I am basically this man's personal stylist."
Her eyes widened as if she finally understood something. "Oh! Really?"
"Yes! In fact, that jacket and those jeans are all me," he bragged before looking at Summer again and gasping again. "Are you the girlfriend?"
She smiled a little goofily. "I am!"
"You're gorgeous!" he exclaimed. "My God, you two, please have kids."
Bucky then watched Summer laugh nervously and reply, "Uh... well..."
"Wait." Esteban's face grew very serious suddenly, and his dark eyes flitted back and forth between them as he asked in a whisper, "Does this mean that Thor is somewhere close by?"
Summer opened her mouth and then closed it, looking at Bucky in slight panic. He merely shook his head and replied, "No."
"Dang it," Esteban sighed, the wind leaving his sails for a moment. Then he noticed the look of alarm on Summer's face, and he explained in a whisper with a wave of his hand, "I know all about everybody. They all walked into my old store together in terrible disguises. Thor's fabulous red coat was me."
"... Oh," she said in surprise before she smiled. "That coat is beautiful."
"Almost as beautiful as Thor himself," he sighed, nodding in agreement.
Then Summer paused and glanced at Bucky before asking, "So the leather pants..."
Esteban perked up and smiled at the mention of those particular pants. "Oh yes. Also me."
Summer sighed and then shoved her purse into Bucky's hands before stepping closer to Esteban and hugging him, because apparently nothing else could properly express her gratitude. "Oh, thank you."
"Mhm," Esteban nodded, patting her back. "This is what Esteban is here for, sweetie. Oh, and the white suit was also my doing."
Summer made an incoherent noise as she continued to hug the man. "The white suit of sex?"
An older lady, probably in her fifties, walked past them on her way to the exit, and after looking at them all in confusion and possibly a hint of disapproval over who knew what, Bucky glared at her. He instantly realized that he had slightly overdone the glare, because the woman clutched her purse and paled before bolting out the door.
Oh well.
After Summer's impromptu hug finally ended, she patted Esteban's shoulder and said, "Seriously, you are amazing. I'll make him come buy clothes from you forever. I mean it."
"Absolutely!" he beamed. "I quit one of my jobs over some creative differences so that's why I'm here, but I'm still up on 22nd five days a week. Oh, and Captain America," he whispered, "needs to come in too, because he seriously could use the help." Then he leaned in conspiratorially and asked Summer, "I thought they were a couple the first time I saw them, and when I said so, they both turned so red - if I had known then who they were, I would have taken a picture!"
Summer looked like she was on the verge of utterly exploding with laughter. "Are you serious?"
Bucky sighed and sat down on a small bench meant for trying on shoes. Clearly, they were going to be here awhile.
"Oh yes!" he laughed. "But my proudest moment is still Thor's jacket. I do not think I can top that one. My number one used to be when I sold Tom Hiddleston that black sweater he wears almost every day of his life, but -"
Summer gasped so hard that Bucky was fairly sure that some planet somewhere in the galaxy got knocked off its orbit. "You... you... sold Tom Hiddleston... that sweater?"
He nodded. "Yes, when I was working in London."
Summer stared at Esteban slightly dreamily and asked, "What did he smell like?"
Esteban's gaze drifted off wistfully. "Like Earl Grey tea and perfection."
Bucky rolled his eyes and pulled his phone out from his pocket, then snapped a picture of the two people bonding over some guy Bucky really didn't think was attractive enough to warrant all the fuss. He then sent the picture to Steve with one word typed underneath: Help.
A few minutes later, Steve replied with, I would, but Nat is trying on lingerie in front of me and I think this is the best day of my life.
Bucky groaned and shoved his phone back into his pocket. He always knew Natasha would be to blame for his demise. He'd get her back for this.
After meeting the most awesome retail associate in all of New York, Summer bounced out of the shoe store without new shoes but with newly gained knowledge on what Tom Hiddleston smelled like and how Bucky managed to dress as well as he did. The day's outing was already paying off, and they hadn't even grabbed dinner yet.
After meeting back up with a suspiciously smug Natasha and generally flushed-looking Steve, the four of them headed towards a casual, low-key pizza place to eat at before moving on. Summer, being the obviously least recognizable of the group, volunteered to order the food and then bring it to the corner booth they had gotten, which was where she found herself sitting between Bucky and a wall as conversation flowed easily between everybody.
She had been on exactly one double date before, and it had been when she was seventeen and two weeks into her ill-fated relationship with Mark. The date was with his best friend and his girlfriend, who was actually one of Mark's ex-girfriends who decided to give him "slut eyes" the whole time, and it had been so awkward that Summer had nearly attempted escape out of a restroom window.
But even that was better than Steve's past experiences, apparently.
"He tried so hard," Steve said, gesturing to Bucky across the booth, "but every girl he tried to set me up with just couldn't get away from me fast enough. It was awful. They'd just sit there and jump at the first guy who'd ask them to dance, just to get away from me."
"Their loss," Natasha said.
"Yeah," Summer agreed. "I bet they all just about crapped their pants when they saw your face all over posters and stuff later. Well, skirts. Crapped their skirts." When Steve laughed at her eloquence, she grinned back and then said, "Besides, they weren't good enough for you to dance with anyway, if they were like that just because you were small."
"Well, thanks," he smiled with a small nod, "and you're right, but I didn't really know that at the time."
She then slightly nudged Bucky's shoulder and said, "I'm sure he told you the same thing."
Bucky glanced at Steve and then Summer as he said, "I might not remember everything, but I do know the last thing he ever did was listen to me."
Steve shrugged in admittance, smile lingering. "Can't really argue that one."
Summer chuckled, and then she felt her phone buzz through her purse. She checked it and saw a new text from Darcy, which turned out to be a picture of David and Sam, both sitting on the edge of the couch with controllers in their hands, expressions utterly serious as they fought to the death on the battlefield of Mario Kart. The text underneath read, "Which one is six? I can't tell."
Summer laughed, sent back a text thanking Darcy for the update, and then put her phone away, feeling warm and like her cheeks might split in half if she smiled anymore. But she couldn't help it - she was just that happy.
She finished eating before everyone else, and Bucky kept an arm lightly wrapped around her waist as she kept up conversation and he plucked at the olives that she had pulled off of her pizza and left in a small pile on her plate. She noticed Steve frowning at that, and she made a mental note to ask later what he had against olives.
She got her chance a bit later, after everyone was done and Natasha stepped outside to make a call while Bucky went briefly to the restroom. She leaned on the table and asked Steve, "So, are you anti-olive?"
"What?" he asked with a small half-smile.
"It looked like Bucky eating olives personally offended you," she explained.
"Oh." He shook his head, looking at the table as he said, "Well, he used to hate olives. If something so much as touched an olive, he wouldn't eat it. But that's... obviously changed now."
Summer nodded, now understanding. Steve went on, "There's other things too, little things like how he takes his coffee. A lot of it's the same but a lot isn't, and at first I just..."
Summer nodded, not needing him to elaborate. She only imagine how difficult it was to get your best friend back from the dead only to find a huge amount of that best friend gone and replaced by something else.
"But now it doesn't bother me as much," Steve said. "He's different but... in some ways so am I. Different isn't always bad. And he's still in there. I know that. Besides," he shrugged with a smile, "as long as he's getting better and he's happy... that's really all I want."
She smiled back and said, "Well, I think both of those things are definitely true. And he smiles so much now. Still gets nightmares, but he can deal with them better now. And he trusts himself a lot more than he used to."
Steve nodded. "Yeah, he does. Honestly, I had prepared myself for him to never get to this point and remember as much as he has. I really did. And I owe a lot of his recovery to you."
She almost choked on a sip of her water and shook her head. "I haven't really... done anything. I mean..."
"Yes you have," Steve said quietly.
Before she could continue to protest in futility, Natasha returned to the table and then so did Bucky, signaling that it was time to leave and get on to the real fun of the night. She grabbed her purse and let Bucky help her up from the table, and she returned the small smile that he gave her, Steve's words echoing through her head and helping to bring on a distinct sense of contentedness within. She kissed him very lightly on the lips and then asked, "Ready to take me dancing, soldier?"
His smile grew and his hand slipped into hers. "Always, sweetheart."
And there was that term of endearment again, just as unexpected as the first time she had heard it. She really did melt far too easily when it came to him.
Once they were back out on the street, it was a moderately short walk to the club that Natasha had recommended earlier. The sun was setting but the streets were bright with the lights of the city, and Summer felt sort of like she was in a movie, maybe like a slightly more action packed version of Sex and the City, just with more attractive men and less drinking and less cheating.
Sex and the Avengers. Maybe it would be the next great bestseller.
Before she could share her new brilliant idea with anyone, they got to the club, and she and Bucky were following Steve and Nat inside. The place ended up being just as classy and inviting as Nat had described, again reminding Summer of the sort of place in a movie that two enemy spies would meet at and have a tension-filled dance in. The lighting was warm and low and there was a stage in front of the main floor, where a jazz band was playing softly and filling the room with music that a decent amount of couples were dancing to. Next to the main space were some booths and a bar, and Summer felt a slight tug on her hand before Bucky asked her quietly, "Want a drink first?"
She looked at him and shook her head. "Nope. Not tonight."
He smiled slightly and nodded, then led her by the hand to the booth that Steve and Nat had already grabbed. Summer only gave him enough time to throw his jacket on the seat before she took his left hand in both of hers and said, "I really want to dance."
"I can tell," he chuckled as she dragged him out to the dance floor, smiling brightly at him when they got there and pulling him close by both of his hands. He smiled softly at her before taking her in his arms and taking advantage of the new song the band had started to play, and thus began her hands-down favorite part of the night.
She loved dancing in his bedroom and in the living room, loved the playfulness and intimacy of being danced across a carpeted floor and being patiently taught how to dance at least somewhat well. But there was nothing quite like this, of standing under the warm lights of the club and watching his blue eyes smile at her underneath him as he twirled her out and pulled her back in. She could feel the music under her skin, and unlike the first time they had wandered into a place like this, she was able to let go and feel the dance instead of think it to death.
And seeing Bucky the way that he was, so much more confident than he had been back then and wearing a disarming smile as he danced her around like the old pro that he was... she wished that she could take a picture of every moment of it so that it could last forever.
She wasn't sure how much time had passed by the time that a slower song had begun to play and he had drawn her in close, left hand splayed on the small of her back while the other held hers. His nose brushed her hair as he said into her ear, "People are watching us."
The light way that he said it assured her that he didn't mean that in a nefarious way, so she smiled and stole a glance around them. Steve and Natasha weren't far away, currently slow-dancing and laughing quietly together, and as for the others, they had indeed gained a few onlookers. "Are we that good?"
He pulled back slightly and grinned as he shrugged. "Maybe." Then she giggled quietly as he slowly spun her one more time, drawing her back in only to dip her low, face inches from hers as she dropped her head back, smile never leaving her face.
"We need to do this more often," she said when he pulled her back up, her free hand curling on his unyieldingly hard left shoulder. "Like once a week."
He smiled and nodded his agreement. "We can do that."
"Every Friday, since I usually have Fridays off?" she suggested.
He nodded, leaning in and kissing her cheek as his hand on her waist pulled her in closer. "Fridays."
And just like that, though their date wasn't even over yet, she was already looking forward with great anticipation to the next one.
The air outside was cooler than it had been when they arrived, so when they left the club, Bucky didn't think twice about slipping off his jacket and placing it on Summer's shoulders, and the gesture made her look back and him and smile warmly.
"You didn't have to do that," she said, sliding her arms through the sleeves and then pulling her hair out from the back. It was big, of course, but he liked the way that it looked on her.
"I get the feeling that if I didn't, I'd be disappointing people I can't remember," he half-joked, taking her hand in his as they began to follow Steve and Nat down the sidewalk, back towards home. She fell into step at his side and leaned her head on his shoulder as she walked, and his hand left hers so that his arm could wind around her waist.
"We wouldn't want that," she replied quietly. "Thanks for tonight. I loved it."
"Me too," he replied, and they crossed the street quietly together before stepping on to the next sidewalk.
"So," Summer said, pulling away a bit, "What now? Once we get home, I mean."
"I'm sure we'll think of something," he replied with a half-grin that she returned.
"I don't know... I'm kinda tired," she teased, feigning a yawn. "I might just go to sleep early tonight."
"Yeah?" he asked, coming to a stop with her before the next street they had to cross. Steve and Nat had crossed in time, so as the "don't walk" light flashed on the crosswalk, Bucky turned to Summer and said, "You don't look all that tired."
She smiled and shrugged. "Oh, I am. I'm still worn out from hitting that guy with the riding crop yesterday. Really exhausting stuff."
He chuckled. "Then maybe we should work on building up your endurance."
She widened her eyes slightly. "... Isn't that what we've been doing since we started doing... you know... things?"
He glanced at the crosswalk display again, then back to her and shook his head with a grin. "I've been going easy on you. If you really want a workout..."
She laughed slightly nervously. "Oh God, I hope you're joking."
"One way to find out," he shrugged, grinning and then unknowingly biting his lip as she blushed and rolled her eyes at him.
"You're gonna be the death of me, I swear," she giggled before taking him by the collar and kissing him briefly but sweetly. He hugged her lightly before she pulled away, and with the "walk" signal back on and traffic stopped, she started heading into the street and he took a moment to watch her walk, the smile lingering on his face.
When she turned her head to look at him, her long dark hair flipping over her shoulder as a smile tugged at her lips, he almost pulled out his phone and took a picture because of how perfect she looked in that moment. Instead he just smiled as she turned all the way around, walking backwards a few steps as she teasingly asked, "Not gonna make me walk myself home, are you?"
He shook his head and then stepped out into the street, which was when movement just on the borderline of his peripheral vision made his eyes dart from her face to the sole empty lane of the road. But it wasn't empty anymore, because a small black car was speeding down it so fast that a fraction of a second was all he had to look at Summer and watch shock and horror dawn on her face.
There was nothing he could do but watch the car slam into her, and the sound of the chrome colliding with her body and the resulting crack he heard when she hit the concrete was something he would hear echo in his mind for the rest of his life. She screamed when it happened, and the sound pierced his ears more painfully than if two blades had been plunged into each one.
It felt like getting shoved back into the tiny cryo-chambers that HYDRA used to store him in, only worse. Everything went from happy and normal to ice-cold and unbearably quiet in less time than it took to draw a breath. He moved on autopilot, rushing forward to the ground on his knees beside her, his eyes wide and beyond horrified as he looked her over. Her eyes were closed - she lost consciousness the minute she hit the ground - and she was sprawled on the concrete. He was vaguely aware of his voice shakily saying her name over and over, louder and louder the longer he went unheard, but then he looked down and saw her right leg half-pinned to the ground by a tire. His left arm shot up and he lifted the car up by the front bumper and shoved it back, and he wasn't prepared for what he saw, what her leg looked like now.
He swallowed down a sickening lump in his throat and then moved up so that he was looking down at her face again. This time, he saw a thick trickle of blood pooling down from under her head. It ran slowly until it reached the collar of his leather jacket that she was still wearing.
Later, he would realized that he had begun screaming her name and for help at this point, but all he was aware of at that moment was Steve and Natasha rushing to his side.
Everything went a bit blurry as Steve gently pulled him off of her. He watched in a dazed panic as Natasha started checking Summer's breathing and her pulse. Then there was somebody else there, an onlooker, some woman in scrubs who looked like she might be a nurse, and then she was helping too. But all he could see was the blood still flowing from Summer's head and her right leg, a leg she had just been dancing on less than an hour ago, mangled and crushed.
He looked down and saw her blood on his hands, having gotten on them while he had been holding her face and pointlessly repeating her name over and over. It was all of his nightmares come true, the ones where she ended up limp on the ground and he standing over her, her blood dripping from his hands.
Something whispered to him then, something buried deep in the back of his mind that he had grown very skilled and adept at shoving down and away after months of therapy, but now it was there and he couldn't fight it. It knew what to do far better than he ever would in a situation like this.
It took over when he heard the engine of the car that had done this purr back to life. His eyes blinked once and then snapped up, blank and clear compared to the horrified daze within them a moment before. He stood up, staring into the windshield of the car as something much colder than shock and terror began to pulse in time with his racing heart.
The person behind the wheel was no spy, no HYDRA operative, no enemy of his or anyone else. It was a scared and cowardly kid, surely no older than 18, and in the single second that they spent staring back at each other, the kid hit the gas in reverse.
He got no further than ten feet down the road, because Bucky ran after the car and grabbed the front of it with his left hand and lifted it slightly, the back wheels screeching but taking the car nowhere. The kid didn't let off the gas, his face the picture of horror as Bucky slammed the car down, tearing off the entire front bumper in the process and throwing it aside into the street like scrap metal. Then he shoved his fist through the hood, right into the engine, leaving a hole in the middle of it that sparks and smoke starting pouring out of, taking away the kid's only means of escape.
He didn't care who saw. The entire city and every government bureau in the world could have been assembled and watching and it would have made no difference in what he did next. His increasingly vacant but deadly gaze never left the boy's as he went to the driver's side door, ripped it off, and grabbed the kid by the throat and threw him down on the pavement.
The kid cried out in pain when his body hit the ground, but all Bucky could hear was Summer's scream replaying over and over in his head, pushing him further into the tentacles of madness slithering and taking grip of his mind. He pinned the kid down with his knee and grabbed his throat again, this time with his right hand, smearing Summer's blood on the pale and rapidly bruising skin there.
He didn't hear Steve yelling at him to stop, nor did he feel the moisture running down from his cold and murderous eyes, because all he could see was the face of the man - boy - who might have just killed the woman he loved.
He was the world's most prolific and accomplished assassin, and yet he had never wanted to kill anyone the way that he wanted to kill this boy now. And he was going to rip him apart right there, in the middle of the streets of Manhattan, for all the world to see.
A/N: ... uhhh... I'm not entirely sure what to say after... that lol, other than... I love you all and please don't hate me? *hides* Anyway... so, one review of the last chapter noted the heavy emphasis on sexytimes as of late, and now that this chapter is up, I can now explain why that has been the case lol, which is that this *waves hands upwards towards chapter* was about to happen and so I put an emphasis on the happy fun stuff. Because something decidedly not happy and not fun stuff was coming. So hopefully now that all makes somewhat better sense lol. Anyway, I thank you all for continuing to follow this story and put up with my obnoxious love of cliffhangers (I am a horrible person), and also big thanks to midnightwings96 as always for helping me out and for helping me tweak the last scene here. I love you all and I will see you all next week, as usual! *dives behind couch and hides until next Monday*