Harper swung her hand, joined with James's, in the space between them. They followed the realtor up the short pathway from the street to the house as the man droned on about the neighborhood. James seemed interested, but Harper was more interested in the empty flowerbeds flanking the front step. She began wondering about what flowers would look good there with the brick exterior as a backdrop.
She and James had been looking at houses for a few months. It had consumed their weekends and even some weeknights to accommodate when he had to travel. Honestly, they had both become rather discouraged after seeing an endless number of houses in less than ideal locations, with major repairs needs, with grossly outdated interiors, or some combination of those concerns.
It wasn't that they were looking for the perfect house – those didn't exist. However, Harper was quite busy and James's schedule was ever changing. Significant renovations were not something they wanted to juggle. Harper was honestly not at all versed in plumbing, home construction, electric, and so on. If they were dealing with a major renovation or repair and James had to suddenly leave on a job, Harper would feel entirely incapable of good decision-making and would actually be pretty nervous about being taken advantage of. She hated falling into the stereotype of a woman who needed her man to deal with such tasks. James assured her he didn't mind filling that role, and she suspected he was probably more pleased than he let on about the traditional dynamic. Ultimately, she could put aside her pride and admit that she liked him happy and didn't have the time to change things anyway.
When they saw the listing for this house, however, their hopes had lifted by a degree. With luck, they were able to schedule a viewing for the very next Saturday morning. Harper had drowned her nervousness with iced coffee on the train ride out, which James had of course noted. His attunement to her moods was something she had long been grateful for. Before him, she wasn't sure if anyone had ever been consistently able to see the things she didn't intentionally show them. He knew when she was subverting her own thoughts and feelings in the interest of others and would have none of it between them. Hence his current refusal to drop her hand even in the presence of Tom the realtor.
"Ladies first," Tom grinned, opening the front door wide.
Harper stepped inside, closely followed by James. She looked around, taking in the hardwood floors, soft beige walls, and the iron banister on the staircase leading up to the second floor. Looking up at James, she flushed when she realized he had been watching her reaction rather than looking around himself. Cheeks still warm, she lightly swatted his bicep with her free hand. He breathed a chuckle before looking away and finally examining the entryway for himself.
Throughout the interaction, the realtor was speaking and trying to highlight certain features. James waited for the end of his recessed lighting soliloquy before asking, "I'm noticing the heat registers. Forced hot air or water?"
"Water," the other man replied with a single nod.
"How recently was the furnace replaced?"
"It's about three years old."
James nodded and seemed to have no further questions. Taking his silence for acceptance, Tom said, "If we head down the hall, we can see the kitchen. I'm positive your wife will be excited about several of the features the owners recently installed."
To her slight surprise, James didn't correct the man. Following suit, neither did she. Brown eyes did glance down at her left hand which was still entwined with his. Harper couldn't help but feel pleased that they might give off married couple vibes, even if it was just an easy inference to make about a house-hunting couple.
They toured the whole house during the next forty minutes, with James asking a slew of questions that the realtor, to his credit, answered with ease. As they stood in the kitchen, the man's cellphone rang and he excused himself to the adjoining dining room to take the call. Harper looked around the kitchen again, taking in the dark wooden floor, the mocha colored cabinets, and white marble countertops. They stood between the beautiful island in the center of the room and a wall of cabinets and new black appliances. James released her hand, but only to wrap his arms around her and pull her against him.
After placing a kiss on her forehead, he asked, "What do you think, doll?"
Harper couldn't help the huge smile that turned her lips. "I love it. What about you?"
"I really like it, too," James answered with a grin of his own.
"Not just because I like it?" she raised a brow.
"No, I really like it," he answered with a slight shake of his head.
"Okay," Harper accepted, resting her head against his chest. He tightened his arms around her. "Are we putting in an offer?"
"I think we are."
Bucky wiped the back of his hand across his brow as he straightened from placing the last box down in the living room. He turned and made small talk with the two movers as they finalized the payment before showing them out of the house. Closing and locking the door behind them, he turned to look at the stacks and stacks of boxes and storage containers. Furniture had been arriving all week and was in varying stages of being unpacked and assembled. Now everything from their apartment had joined the mix. A lot of work still lay ahead of them, but there was a deep satisfaction in finally having officially moved into the house he and Harper now owned.
The soldier stopped in the bathroom in the main hallway of the first floor to wash his hands and sweat dampened face before quietly heading up the stairs. With concern weighing down the corners of his mouth, he approached the master bedroom. Slowly easing the door open, Bucky found Harper curled up in a ball on their bed. Her oxygen mask was beside her on the comforter and Aslan was curled up at her feet. Tears were leaking slowly from beneath her eyelids.
Bucky carefully sat down on the bed before laying down and curling an arm around her. "How're you doing, doll?"
"I'm sorry, James," she muttered. Her voice was rough, hinting at the number of tears she'd shed prior to his arrival, as she continued, "I couldn't even help you move into our house."
"Darlin', it's really okay. It matters more to me that you're in pain."
"What other important things are the clusters going to ruin?" she asked, curling into a tighter ball.
Bucky frowned and gently pulled her against him. "Nothing is ruined. You not hefting around boxes doesn't change the fact that we have taken a big, exciting step in our life together. We still have weeks of building furniture, unpacking, and shuffling things around until everything is perfect that we can do together. I'll happily always do our heavy lifting."
"It's my fucking nightmare to be a burden on you or to force changes in our plans because of the clusters," Harper snapped, tears flowing faster.
"Harper," Bucky pleaded, "don't. There's no burden, nothing that would diminish how grateful I am to have a life with you."
"Okay," she accepted in a tiny voice.
He replied by pressing a kiss to her hair and hugging her closer.
Harper looked around with a smile. She and James had been living in their house for two months and were finally hosting a housewarming. Her mother was chatting with Kat, Jordan and Natalie were trying to keep Uncle Martin's excitement about the kitchen in check, and Sam and Tawny were making eyes and laughing at each flirty comment the other made. James's metal arm was wrapped around her shoulders while the other moved animatedly along with the conversation he was having with her father. She knew her family would like him, but was pleased at just how well they all fit together.
Lifting her wine glass to her lips, Harper tuned back into the conversation beside her.
"Definitely get the one with the adjustable blade," her father was advising.
"Yeah?" James asked. "It's worth the extra money?"
"Definitely. Especially once you get some landscaping done. Makes it way easier to do the edges, around plants and shrubs, all that."
Nodding, James said, "Okay, good to know. I know Harper wants to plant a small tree out front, and I was thinking of laying pavers around it. I want to do the same with the mail box and add a few bushes down near the road too."
"Yeah, it'll be easier and the lawn will look really good if you have more control over the height of the mower blade."
"Thanks for the advice. Back when I was mowing lawns, the tech was a little different," James laughed.
Harper's father laughed along with him before turning to her with a smile. "You picked well, kiddo."
"The house or James?" she asked, glancing at the soldier with a teasing smile.
"Both!" her father replied firmly.
She watched a light flush bloom on her partner's cheeks at the earnest sentiment. Patting the hand resting on her shoulder, she said, "I'm very lucky."
Bucky poured over the files on the kitchen counter. He and Sam were on a mission to intersect a shipment of illegal weapons, including some biological agents. They would make their move tomorrow, taking down the sellers and securing the weapons before heading to the shipment's destination for the buyers. It would take four days minimum, then another two to get back home and report to the powers that be.
It was Bucky's habit to look over the files, maps, whatever information they had for any details that might threaten their mission's plan the night before they moved. Then at least they would still have time to adjust. Plus, it was a comfort to have details freshly in mind. The ritual itself certainly made him feel better. Sam had a different method of calming pre-op jitters. He preferred to relax as if there was no mission happening at all. They were a good match in that way; Bucky fretted and prepared enough for both of them while Sam offered some calm and evenness.
"Yo, Buck, come check this out," Sam called from the safe house's tiny living room.
He closed the file he was reading and made his way to the other room which was lit only by the screen of the small, archaic television set there. Sam was watching the news. The grainy image did not prevent Bucky from reading the headline of the featured story, which had his heart thundering behind his ribs.
Slowly, he sank to the couch beside the other soldier and listened while the news anchor described a string of home invasions in the town he and Harper had moved to only a handful of months prior. To his horror, a couple of the houses displayed on the screen were ones he recognized from their neighborhood. Then the screen changed to a reporter interviewing a woman with a baby in her arms. She explained through tears that she had walked in on the invaders as they were burglarizing her home, prompting one to pull a knife on her.
Wasting little time, Bucky pulled out his phone. His thumb rapidly slid across his screen before lifting the device to his ear.
"Harper?" he asked as soon as he heard her pick up the call.
"James?" she replied, sounding alarmed by his urgency.
"Doll, are you alright? I'm watching the news, and-"
"I'm fine," she cut him off. "I mean, nervous, but nothing has happened here. I haven't seen anything strange or out of place."
"I won't be home for at least another six days," he lamented, standing and moving back to the kitchen to provide himself with the illusion of privacy. The apartment was so small Sam would surely hear every word regardless. "Maybe you could stay with your parents? Kat? Tawny?"
"James, you know Aslan hasn't been doing well. I don't want to move him again."
He couldn't argue her point; the aged feline was continuing to show signs of his age. His fur was thinner and he spent most of the day sleeping in his window perch. Since the move, his appetite was also down, though his fervor for treats remained.
He heaved an anxious sigh and asked, "Have you made sure all of the windows and doors are locked?"
"Of course."
"Can you check again while we're on the phone?" he requested.
"Sure, hun." He listened as she made her way around their home, jiggling locks and latches as she went. Finally, she said, "Okay, they are all definitely locked."
"Even the basement door?"
"Yeah, basement door too."
"And you remember the combination to my safe in the closet?"
She groaned and said, "James, I don't want-"
"It's not about wanting, Harper," he said firmly. "If you need to protect yourself, you need to know the combination."
"07-04-18," she rattled off. "But I genuinely don't think I would be able to use anything in there."
"It's a last resort, Harper. I need you to be safe and in one piece when I get home. I can't come back to protect you, so please promise me you'll protect yourself."
In the silence over the line he could sense that she was torn. Finally, she gave in, "I promise I will do what I can to protect myself."
"Thank you." He let out a sigh of relief through his nose. "Make sure you're keeping an eye out and call the police if you see anything strange, okay?"
"Yes," Harper agreed easily. "Do you feel a little better?"
"Very slightly."
"Anything else that would be helpful?"
Bucky groaned and dropped his face to his free hand. "I just want to be there with you."
"Statistically speaking, you're in much more danger than me."
"I'm a super soldier with a weaponized arm," he rebutted dryly. Struck by an idea, he asked, "I may not always get back to you right away, but could you do me one more thing? Something that'll make me feel better?"
"What is it?"
"Can you text me when you get home from work, when you go to bed, and when you leave for work? So I know you made it home and through the night okay?"
"I can do that," she agreed. "Please try not to worry about me so much that you lose focus on you and Sam."
"I'll try."
"Thank you."
"Harper?"
"Hmm?"
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
As Bucky's combat boots hit the tarmac, he felt awash with relief. He was finally back in the States and could head home to Harper. It had been an agonizing six days. Her texts confirming that she was safe were his lifelines, anchoring him to sanity. He understood in the abstract how deeply entwined with her his life and heart were, but now he had faced the very real possibility of something happening to her. He didn't know what he would do if harm ever befell Harper.
"Not to invite myself over, but if I head home with you, we can just finish our reports there," Sam offered. "Instead of delaying getting back by doing them here."
"Let's go," Bucky agreed immediately.
With haste they communicated their decision to the military contacts who had hired them and sorted out a car rental. Bucky rushed through adjusting all of the mirrors and his position in the driver's seat before flying out of the parking garage.
As he navigated them to the highway, he asked, "Any news?"
Sam pulled out his phone, and began to tap and scroll. Bucky sensed the moment he tensed up and snapped his head toward the other soldier. Quickly, Sam said, "Harper is fine! She texted you this morning and everything. But last night… an invasion ended in shots fired. Victim was rushed to the hospital and died in the ICU."
Flesh and metal knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. He glanced at the clock. They could get home before nightfall.
Harper looked up from her position on the couch when she heard movement at the front door. She tensed, sitting up straighter and preparing her body to run if need be. Having lived alone for a long time prior to cohabitating with James, she was used to the occasional scare and generally felt safe at home. However, she'd never lived in a place hit by a crime spree, and the standalone house didn't offer the protection of paper-thin walls like apartments had. It would take time for any neighbors to know she was in trouble.
Her body relaxed when the door swung open to reveal James. She had only a second to register that Sam was following him inside before James had rushed her and pulled her up and into his arms. Harper would have wobbled unsteadily on her newly grounded feet if he hadn't been holding her so tightly. His flesh fingers buried themselves in her hair and he pressed a kiss to her temple. She heard the breath he exhaled.
"You're okay, darlin'?"
"I'm okay, James," she assured. "You?"
"Fine," he answered dismissively, cradling her head against his chest.
Harper returned his embrace. "I'm really alright."
He shushed her and muttered, "It's been a fucking awful week. Just lemme hold you a minute."
"Awful because of your mission?" she asked, trying to look up at him without moving out of the position in his arms.
"Because the most precious part of my world was in danger."
Heat bloomed across Harper's face and down her neck to her chest. Weakly, she protested, "James…"
They stayed like that for half a minute more before James stepped away. Reminding both of his presence, Sam spoke up, "Hey, Harper. Nice ink."
The blush on her skin flamed deeper as she realized what she was wearing and in what company. As the last days of summer wore on, it was still quite warm. This led the brunette to donning simple black biker shorts and a matching sports bra when she got home from work. The latter left her entire midriff exposed as well as more cleavage than she deemed appropriate in the vast majority of situations.
Harper gasped and stepped behind James just as he reached out his arm to pull her under his cover. Angrily, he snapped, "Sam, get out!"
"Woah," Sam laughed, raising his hands to indicate he was a nonthreat. "Calm down, man. She's not naked."
"Luckily or you'd be dead," James deadpanned.
"Chill," the other soldier reminded before slowly backing out of the room. As James turned back to her, Harper's hands rose to cover her face in embarrassment. The soldier sighed and lamented, "I was supposed to be the only one who knew just how fuckin' sexy you are under those blouses and cardigans."
She had to laugh at the genuine disappointment in his voice. Turning serious once more, she said, "I'm glad you're home, James."
"Me, too, doll."
A/N: Poor Sam! We had to have a protective Bucky and domestic Bucky throughout the chapter, though. :) Apologies for disappearing for a couple weeks. I'm back now and will definitely continue posting. I won't leave y'all hanging!