((Continued))
He let the engine purr into silence and he swung a leg over the bike to stand on the dusty ground of the parking lot. The cheap, bright lights invited him in- people stood on the corner, women in scanty outfits stood grazing their talons across the chests of men in leather jackets. In the shadowy darkness of the back of the bar, among glinting trashcans, a couple pawed at each other, animalistic.
He took a deep breath and walked towards the door.
A young woman with wild bolts of brunette hair and an obnoxious painted red smile swerved in front of him.
"You're new." She giggled.
He rolled his eyes and brushed past her, making his way to the bar. He had to admit, it was nice to be in the company of people who weren't evil, but were by no means good. People who wouldn't raise an eyebrow at his threatening appearance, that would assume he'd done bad things but wouldn't ask, wouldn't care.
"Beer." Bucky told the bartender. He grunted in response.
He was about halfway through his drink when the girl who had greeted him on his way in came stumbling up behind him for a top-up. As she teetered over, her black tights caught in a stray nail loosely hammered into his barstool, and ripped a wide gash as she hopped up and leaned over the bar, flat on her stomach.
"Same again?" The bartender asked. She threw money down on the bar as a reply. Realising her tights had ripped; she looked down and brushed her leg casually as if swatting a fly.
She turned and leaned her elbows on the bar as he prepared her drink, eyes unfocused. She came to a little, and that was when she noticed Bucky again.
"You're the Winter Soldier, aren't you?" she narrowed her gaze.
"I-" Bucky sputtered, choking on a sip of beer. In an instant he was out of his seat and pressed up against her, looking down his nose at her defiant stare. He gripped the bar on either side of her. "Keep your voice down." He snarled
"This guy giving you trouble, Gina?" the bartender came back over, looking at them both levelly, sitting her drink down beside them.
"Not yet." She smiled infuriatingly, not breaking her gaze on Bucky, "I was just getting his attention."
The bartender nodded and backed off, leaving them still staring at one another, both of their chests heaving.
"How the hell did you know who I was?" Bucky demanded, once he'd dragged her by the arm to a corner booth.
"You've been on the news," She dusted off her arm in distain, shooting him a glare "a few times."
Paranoia crept up Bucky's throat, he looked around himself frantically, knowing that if this woman could see through him then anyone could.
"You know, if you'd just cut your hair-" she muttered, looking off
"I don't trust people holding sharp things near my head," he raised a hand to shut her up as he continued searching for suspicious faces.
She smiled a dangerous smile and leaned back in the booth.
"No, I don't suppose you would. I'm Gina, if it matters to you."
"It doesn't" he growled.
"You're kind of rude," she laughed, "and I'd relax, nobody here is going to know who you are, they won't be as up to date on current affairs as I am. I'm actually from New York."
Bucky laughed harshly, "No, you're not." He'd somehow developed a kind of radar for these things.
"In recent years, I have been," she said, quietly, looking at the table.
Finally realising there was no present threat, Bucky leaned back on his side of the booth, "I knew coming here was a mistake."
"It doesn't have to be," she smiled coyly. Although Bucky found her entire manner repugnant, he had to admit she was physically attractive. Or she would be, were it not for her smudged makeup and the sheen on her forehead, the damp roots at her hairline, sweating from dancing. She had a loose look in her eyes, which seemed to be swimming around under a shallow, watery sheath like she wasn't all quite available, and when he looked closely he saw one of her lateral teeth was chipped.
The back door of the bar swung open and the bartender invited in a young man. A few people took notice and started to rummage in their bags, in their pockets like they were searching for a church donation. The bartender caught Gina's eye, indicating towards the newcomer with his head.
"Someone you know?" Bucky asked, taking another swig from his bottle.
Gina looked torn, wanting to stay and wanting to go. Badly wanting to go, She threw him a hurried grin, "If you'll excuse me. It's a Saturday."
With no more explanation than that she dashed out of the booth and over to the man, digging in the pockets of her shredded black shorts. He saw her hand money to the man and he chatted to her, friendly, for a few moments before he took her hand, pressing something into her palm. It was graceful, like a choreographed routine.
She teetered back over to him, almost revitalised with excitement. He wasn't sure he could handle much more of her presence; she got too far under his skin.
"Care to join me?" She asked, waving a small sachet of white powder in the air.
He pulled a face, "No thanks."
"Don't look at me like that, I only dabble." She smiled
"Then you've overbought."
"I was taking you into consideration." She retorted, "No good deed."
Bucky rolled his eyes.
"If Captain America can't get drunk," Gina teased, "Does that mean the Winter Soldier can't either?"
Bucky froze "Where did you learn that?"
"It was the answer to a trivia card in a board game my family used to play at Christmas."
It was strange hearing that, even stranger for her to say it. Gina was a million miles away from connotations of Christmas, and family board games.
"Cute." He muttered, "And no. I can't"
"This might be worth a try." She smiled with one side of her mouth. She did that a lot, Bucky noticed.
His brows creased and she could tell that despite himself, he was genuinely considering it. Bucky's mind travelled back to his nightmare that evening and he looked hard at the clear sachet in her hand.
He sighed. He didn't even need to say anything.
"Follow me." She grinned.
Bucky was dubious that the drug would take effect, but it did.
Although his last memories of intoxication were distant, very distant, and this was entirely different from being drunk, he'd still achieved the release he'd been looking for. His wide-eyed companion even seemed more bearable in his current state.
"Dance with me," she breathed.
Confused, Bucky leaned forward to take her in a dance hold, realising slower than usual that he was wrong.
She laughed, and pulled him by the arm. He realised he was laughing too.
He stood, moving side to side in time with the music, with no idea how people danced to this kind of song. She knew how, she glittered when lights caught the sheen of sweat on her forehead.
"What is this music?" he leaned forward and asked her, shouting in her ear.
She threw her head back, laughing, and her hair fell in sheets over her shoulders.
"Appetite for Destruction. Guns 'n' Roses." She told him, speaking the words deliberately, like she was tasting them.
He nodded, absorbing this.
"Tom knows it's my favourite, he puts the album on sometimes." She nodded towards the barman with a sly wink.
"It's fast." He told her.
"Is that bad?" She looked up at him, her eyes playful. He watched her hot, red, wet mouth move as she spoke.
And then he was kissing her, aggressively, compulsively. He hadn't kissed someone in a long time and it evoked a ravenous hunger he had long forgotten about.
They danced; or rather she danced around him for a few more songs. Every now and then their faces would crash together, hurriedly, clumsily. They'd kiss. The bar got a little quieter and they sat back in the booth. He impulsively bounced his leg up and down underneath the table.
"You know," she said softly, her lips trembling a little, "I'm not usually-"
She paused.
"I never used to be like this."
"M'kay" he murmured, leaning in for another kiss. She kissed him again, a slower, deeper kiss than last time.
"Let's get out of here." She whispered against his ear.
He nodded, and she led him by the hand, out of the bar.