Another long awaited chapter, you guys! Guess who passed their first exam in their professional program this week! (Hint: it's me) :D
When we made our way through the crowded airport, Natasha kept so close she might as well have been humping me. The others dispersed into the masses of people. I was not permitted to see the boarding pass and the city listed on the gate we entered was one I could not hope to pronounce much less be able to pin point on a map. The plane took its sweet time taking off. People listed in, meandering as if there wasn't a place in the world they had to be. Though the others in my accompanying group maintained casual air, Natasha's constant sweeping eye movements kept me looking over my shoulder. Menzel was left under Tony's care and, though he promised her new prison was not even comparable to the temporary ones that had housed us, I knew she would find a way out eventually.
Steve was seated directly in front of me with his nose buried in the escape routes and safety procedures pamphlet. If I craned my neck I could spot Sam through swinging the first class curtains and Wanda was curled up on the last row of business writing in a notebook. Bucky was a few rows ahead and to my left. His broad shoulders leaned against the open window watching as we took off and the world turned to blurs beneath us. The seat beside him was vacant.
"As much as I love your company…"
"Barnes won't hesitate to take you down any more than I will. One hiccup on this plane and you're unconscious until next week. Understood?" Natasha held up the button inside her palm that would send electricity reciting throughout my body via the lovely bracelet they'd bestowed upon me last night for emphasis.
"What about turbulence?" I asked.
"What about it?" she smiled sweetly and drew a magazine into her lap that she began to feign reading.
A sigh blew from my lips and I offered a thumbs up before maneuvering past her, providing a brief lap dance, to get into the aisle. Steve cut his gaze to me, but didn't attempt to stop my progress. I bumped into just about every person before collapsing into the chair at Bucky's side. He didn't jolt or press a knife to my throat, though I knew he'd snuck plenty past security. He gave me a small nod, continuing to observe the swatches of land skating by beneath us. The sun was sinking and soon the outside world would be reduced to darkness with not even a sliver of the moon to illuminate it.
"Where's Scott and Clint?" I questioned.
"Stayed to watch Menzel," he clipped.
So chit chat wasn't going to be a thing today. I heard a laughter from Natasha in the seat I'd vacated. Steve was turned around saying something that pulled up the hard lines of her mouth into a genuine smile; I didn't know she could do that. Maybe it was just me she was a hard-ass to.
"Is that a thing?" I asked, gesturing towards the pair.
"Hu? No. I don't know. Just because I've got the antidote doesn't mean the memories come pouring back in. It's more like little trickles."
"What did you remember today?" I asked eagerly, sitting forward in my seat so my knees brushed against his denim covered thighs.
"Nothing good."
"So tell me something good that you do remember," I encouraged.
He finally averted those dark blue eyes to meet mine. Peering into them was like swimming at the bottom of a cloudy lake, and I didn't want to surface. "I haven't had a real conversation in days, Bucky come on," I begged.
"I remember this hotdog stand by my school. Steve and I would stop there almost every day after class. It wasn't even that good, but the old man who served them always had great stories from the rounds he made throughout the city that day. Sometimes he would forget to charge us, so we just left extra big tips."
I was staring at his lips moving, I realized. They were fascinating. Hadn't I kissed him last time we'd been alone? Just his jaw, I recall. Maybe this time I'd aim for that tantilizing.
"Why are you here?" I asked suddenly.
"If you're my cure, then wouldn't it serve to reason that whatever Hydra put inside me is yours?"
"They're going to take my powers," I murmured.
"To stop Menzel."
"Would taking off your metal arm help you? It's nice by the way. Very shiny."
"Stop being ridiculous."
The silence curled back around us like a python sizing its prey up before devouring it whole. I plugged in headphones to the movie playing to get some sort of noise and settled in for the long flight.
As the hours slunk past, sleep, once considered a lost cause, swept over me in warm comforting waves carried on the warmth Bucky emitted. I was certain my eyes closed for only a moment, but when I opened them again, the movie's ends credits were rolling and I could feel the plane's descent from cruising altitude. I shifted, moaning as sleep's welcome embrace was pulled from my body. Upon sitting up and stretching so that my back popped, I realized my cheek had been pressed against the plush of Bucky's sweatshirt. My hand ran over the indentions left in the skin as a yawn fluttered past my lips. Bucky's eyes were soft, watching me beneath the rim of his black baseball cap.
"Where are we?" I asked.
"Florida," he replied.
I gawked more at the straight answer than the place itself. He smiled sheepishly, a boyish expression that relaxed the stress lines on his brow. "We had a connecting flight. You slept straight through it. When was the last time you slept a whole night?"
"Did you carry me or something? Didn't people question you?"
"Not really. An elderly couple told me I was a good boyfriend and two drunk girls swooned a bit."
Damn, why hadn't I been conscious for any of this? Why couldn't we use the lover's cover when I could actually participate? I wanted to remember Bucky Barnes carrying me through an airport, his well conditioned arms wrapped around my body, his long hair brushing against my nose as I hugged myself to his neck.
"You gonna move, Ace?"
"Hu?" I blink realizing we'd landed and people were beginning to fill the aisles. A woman with a bag full of something that felt like a slab of concrete slammed into my side. I hissed and whipped to see if Natasha's ability to wither with the most subtle of glares had rubbed off on me yet.
"Sorry, dearie!" the woman stooped to face me and clasped wrinkled hands over her drooping breasts. "Oh, James!" she cooed, leaning over me to pinch Bucky's cheek. Bucky smiled a smile that could charm anyone in a five mile radius. "I'm afraid Rob had to rush ahead to snag a taxi for us. He would've wanted to see you again." She addressed me now. "You're even more beautiful while awake, dear, especially next to this looker." The woman threw Bucky a wink and leaned down to smooth at the ends of my hair, which was quickly frizzing as humidity drifted into the plane.
"You're too kind, Dorothy," Bucky said.
This must be the elderly couple he mentioned. He failed to include how friendly they'd become while waiting to board. Dorothy wore a floral green shirt along with bright yellow bottoms that scarcely clung to her thin waist. Wisps of white hair hung down over glasses as thick as a T-bone steak that sincere grey eyes peaked out from behind. "You're eloping, aren't you? I can tell the look. You kids have enough money? You'll want a proper church, now, trust me."
"We're just fine, thank you." Bucky held out his human hand to assure her, but Dorothy was already intently digging through a bag Mary Poppins would be proud to own. Bucky's hand fell to rest on my knee as a bashful sigh poured through his lips. I'd never seen him flustered before. The skin burned straight through my loose white pants and sent tendrils of heat curling up my thigh, wrapping around my body in enchanting spells.
"Here," Dorothy produced an antique locket. It was broken at the hinges and the gold coating it wore away at the edge. Intricate spirals traced the front and on the back was an inscription, 'Until…'
"Until?" I questioned.
"Until," she repeated excitedly, pressing the cool metal into the palm of my hand. "Here, I don't have any grandkids and you, James, remind me of a young lad who grew up on my street. So, take it. Put whatever you want in it. Hold each other close until..." another wink then she was being swept away with the traffic anxious to escape the confines of the plane's cabin.
Bucky smiled faintly, his eyes following her all the way out the door.
"I know you're mentally like a century old, but she's taken. That your type?" I teased.
Bucky shook his head, sliding the top half of the locket from my hand and tracing his metal fingers over the smooth surface. It wasn't infatuation I saw; it was awe. He was reeling from the fact that someone could do something so kind or take such a selfless interest in him.
"Did I miss the engagement party?" Natasha's voice trilled behind us.
"Think I missed getting engaged," I replied.
A grunt cleared Bucky's throat as he rose to his feet to retrieve the overhead bags, our only luggage. "On me, Rosales," Natasha said, sliding her backpack over her shoulders and leading the way. I hastily stood, tucking my locket half into my back pocket and offering Bucky a quick smile before shimmying past him and following my probation officer into the exit tunnel.
The airport was a blur of faces and elbows, but once outside, stunning orange flowers rose up to greet me, spurting yellow buds from their centers. Heat seeped into my limbs, chasing away the lingering cold from the recent northern dwellings. Though I couldn't see it, I could smell the ocean—salt and sea spray and home. Florida was no Costa Rica, but it was the closest I had been in years. Even considering the less than favorable circumstances, I would accept the peace now humming through my veins. Natasha slid into a topless shimmering silver corvette, dangling the keys proudly in front of me before jumping over the door to slide them into the ignition. I guess overt was the new incognito. There were no signs of the others following; they would need to get their own transportation anyway because this little thing barely contained the two of us.
Red waves fanned over her bared shoulder as she leaned across the counsel to me. "This is not my car, but if you scratch it I will have to seek retribution for moral reason. You understand, right?"
"I feel like you're about to start making love to this car," I said.
Natasha stroked the steering wheel, tapping her sunglasses down onto the bridge of her nose before throwing it into drive and sending us hurtling into traffic. If I thought clinging to the back of her on a motorcycle in Siberia was terrifying, then this was outright suicidal. I get that speed and catlike reflexes are inherited with the badass assassin title, but I was about to throw up all over her moment, or just keel over. The first option would probably irritate her more than the second because it included defiling her precious car.
After a few jarring turns that took us closer to the coast, Natasha whipped us into the parking lot of a little mom and pop bait shop. Lime green and fuchsia tackle hung from the four pane windows and wind chimes ranging from the height of Steve Rogers himself to no longer than my hand lined the porch overhang boasting of an owner who prided themselves at hoarding. On the second story, window seats jutted out with books stacked up along the outside panels and a woman propped up in an open left one. She was so wrapped up in her book, the sound of Natasha's squealing tires didn't reach her. I, however, ground my teeth and stumbled from the now motionless car. After fighting back the urge to attack Natasha, which would only end up with me dead and my corpse nowhere to be found even by the other Avengers, I pointed towards the oak sign dangling from the entry doorway.
"Closed," I said.
"Just like I requested." Natasha popped gum, though I had no clue as to when she acquired it. "Sally!" she shouted up to the woman who jumped so bad, she nearly fell to her death.
"Sally?" I repeated, squinting against the sun which blazed blindingly from right above the shop.
"I thought you knew Dr. Schwartz," Natasha said.
The British woman beamed down at me and waved excitedly. I offered a cautionary wave in return. She raced downstairs and was bustling down the porch steps, holding her bouncing breasts in her hands as she did so. Hair with more white than I remembered streamed behind her in an unkempt mass. I braced myself as the freight train force of her hug hit me.
"Didn't know you were that friendly." Natasha eyed us suspiciously.
Sally was blubbering. "Oh, Haven my dear. I have to apologize for my treatment of you. I didn't realize there was imprintation in play. Why didn't you tell me? I had to hear from Mr. Rogers that Dr. Menzel can manipulate your emotions. I knew she went rouge from Shield after what happened to her husband, dreadful business, but I had no way to keep tabs on her. And you were so willing to help Sgt. Barnes, I should have known. I sensed you were a sweet girl." She cupped my cheeks squeezing just a bit too hard.
With a shove, I broke her affectionate embrace. My eyes sliced into Natasha, but I got no satisfaction from seeing the guilt flit across her neutral expression. "Shield? Imprintation?"
"Let's get in the safe house," Natasha clipped, leading the way inside.
Sally's big round eyes peered up at me from her miniature height. "I think I jumped the candle on the debriefing a smidge. Sgt. Barnes is coming right? He's such a sweet talker, he gets me blushing like a catholic girl in heat. It was a shame we had to keep him on ice for so long."
I choked a little, allowing her pudgy arm to slide around my waist. I wasn't mad, just confused. If everyone knew what was going on, why did they still treat me like hazardous waste? Sally led me into the wooden building that squeaked as the ocean wind bashed against its hinges and I suddenly missed my little cocoon of a prison. Maybe being in the dark was better.
What do you think? Next chapter is where some things get a tad more heated, if you guys will stick around. ;)