1.

Over the past ninety-eight years, Bucky has come to the conclusion that it doesn't matter if you live in Brooklyn or Bucharest. Summers in the city are always sweltering. Maybe it's all the concrete. Maybe it's the exhaust fumes from cars. Maybe it's climate change (which he just learned is something they've got to worry about). No matter what, it's hot, sticky, and uncomfortable. And to make matters worse, most apartment buildings from before the collapse of the Soviet Union don't have any air conditioning. He's one of the lucky ones: his cold war building has window units. Marni's, however? She's stuck opening windows and hoping for cross circulation, but even that's not much relief.

Which explains why, when he arrives at her apartment for another date (this time in the afternoon since it's a Saturday and she doesn't have classes), she opens the door, and her clothes are almost completely adhered to her with sweat. Immediately he drops his gaze, but he's still not fast enough to get away without a clear idea of the shape of her body beneath the t-shirt and cutoff jean shorts (the word 'knockout' comes to mind, not that he's currently capable of forming many words).

"Hi, Bucky." If she's noticed that he's struggling to pick his jaw up off the floor, she doesn't show it.

"Hey, Marns." Okay. He can do this. All he has to do is look at her face. Her very flushed cheeks, pouty lips just begging to be kissed, sparkling eyes, and damp curls adhering to her forehead. Dammit. That's not much better.

Like always, she reaches out to hug him, and as always, he can't help but think that she fits so perfectly in his arms. It's over far too soon, and then she's stepping back into the apartment, beckoning him to follow.

"I hope you like saunas, because that's what it's like in here." She's not wrong. The heat seems to have become even more oppressive since stepping out of the hallway, and now it's mixed with that humidity that's only found in particularly low-rent apartment buildings. Settling on the couch, she pushes back her hair from her particularly sweaty neck, an action that makes the t-shirt adhere to her body in a way that's nearly indecent, and that's it. He's got to get out of here.

"So, let's go somewhere else." That earns him a quizzical look, and for good reason. Usually, they stay in, watch a movie at one or the other of their apartments. Maybe go for a walk or visit a diner when they're feeling exceptionally adventurous. Before her revelation of not enjoying crowds, he worried that he was boring her, but since then, he's found the routine comforting. Something they both enjoy. Today, however? "Come on. You can't tell me there's nothing in the whole city of Bucharest you wouldn't like to do."

She chuckles. "Well-" Well? "I actually do have some library books I need to return."

"God." He shakes his head. "I haven't been in a library since before the war." And, he just dated himself.

"Well, there's a great one a couple of blocks away. They always have the newest releases."

"I think I've seen it. Statue that kind of looks like Santa Clause out front?" He remembers passing it on the first trip to her apartment and thinking, 'someone's late putting away their decorations.'

She nods. "That's the one. Doesn't look like much from the outside but trust me. It's worth the walk." He thinks about telling her that with his enhancements, that 'walk' is more like a short stroll but decides against it.

"Sounds good. You want to head out?"

"Just let me grab my books." She stands and heads down the hallway, leaving him trying not to stare after her.

Somehow, when Marni said 'books', he imagined three or four. When she returns, it's with a tote bag full to bursting, several titles in Romanian sticking out of the top.

"Exactly how many books did you get?"

She narrows her eyes, thinking. "They only let you check out fifty at a time-" Only? "-so probably about half of that? Twenty-five or so." Well, he did ask.

Reaching out, he tugs the bag from her shoulder. "This must weigh as much as you."

"I'm stronger than I look."

He chuckles. "That makes two of us."

"Was that a super powers joke, Bucky?"

As he pulls open the door, he shrugs. "I've got to get them in where I can."

2.

The library is refreshingly cool, and Marni has to suppress a moan as she walks through the front doors. Her apartment definitely isn't the shittiest place she's ever lived, but it's not exactly comfortable, especially in the summer and winter months. She turns to Bucky to ask him how his window units are holding up, but stops short. He's staring, mouth slightly open, at the shelves upon shelves of books greeting them.

"What'd I tell you?" Taking advantage of his distraction, she attempts to remove the bag and shoulder it again, but he's quicker.

"I got it, Marns." She's about to protest, but then she remembers: super strength. Even considering that, it's still just chivalrous enough to make her slightly weak at the knees. Shaking her head, she begins to walk towards the return counter. She needs to get a grip. That's not a thought people have about their friends.

The librarian barely looks up as they deposit the books on the desk in front of him, and she can sense the tension leaking out of Bucky at the lack of recognition. Now that it's empty, she expects him to give her back her bag, but he hangs onto it, slinging it back over one shoulder. She doesn't think anything about it until they're well into the fiction section and she's pulled the first book from the shelf. It's a new release by one of her favorite authors, and she's been anticipating the day it would show up at the library for months. She reaches to place the book in her bag, only to remember: she doesn't have it.

"Can I get that back from you?"

He shakes his head. "Nope. Just put the book in. I'll carry it."

Marni crosses her arms. "So, what? You're just going to follow me around and carry my books?"

The corners of his lips twitch upwards. "Are you doubting my qualifications?" She could argue with him, but what's the point? This is the sort of thing friends do for each other, right? So she adds the book to the bag and starts back down the aisle.

A half hour later, she's got at least a dozen books added to the ever-swelling tote, but Bucky has yet to examine even one book. Ifshe didn't know any better, she'd assume it's because he doesn't like reading, but she sees the way he looks at the books; almost longingly, like-

"You can check some out, you know." His head jerks up as if she's yanked him out of a daze.

"What's that?"

She indicates the bookshelf. "The books. You can check some out too."

He scratches at the back of his neck, a slight grimace in place. "Actually, I can't. I don't have a library card."

"Well, you can get one-" And that's when it occurs to her. "Except… the dirty little secret?"

This time, he offers her a wry smile. "Something like that."

A frown forms on her face. "I'm sorry, Buck. This can't be much fun for you."

He looks genuinely confused. "Why do you say that?"

"Well, you're not getting anything out of this."

"I get to be around you, don't I?" Cool metal fingers dance across the heated flesh of her arm for just a moment. Then, clearing his throat, he drops his hand. "Plus, you wouldn't be able to lift this bag without me, so…"

Rolling her eyes, she turns back towards the shelves. "My hero." A few more minutes pass as she adds more books to the bag, and finally the obvious occurs to her. "Hey, Buck-"

"Yeah?" If it were possible to melt under someone's gaze, she'd be a puddle on the floor.

"Why don't I check out a few books for you?" There's no way she's going to read fifty books in the twenty-one allotted days before she has to return them, and it's not like anyone's going to check after her and see if she's really using all the books she's checked out. His eyebrows raise slightly in surprise.

"You would do that for me?" Why wouldn't she?

"Sure. It's not a problem."

Slowly, a smile crosses his face until it's a full-on grin. "Thanks."

He looks so genuinely grateful that she has to look away. "So, what are you going to get?"

"I don't know." He shrugs. "I've sort of missed the past seventy years of literature."

"Well what did you like to read before-" He fought for his country, experienced a worse fate than death, went on the run. "-all this?" It's silent for a moment as he considers, then-

"Have you ever heard of The Hobbit?"

"Tolkien?"

He nods. "It came out a couple years before I enlisted. Used to be my favorite."

She chuckles. "Then have I got a surprise for you."

Twenty minutes later and in addition to her books, the bag now holds all three volumes of Lord of the Rings, the diary of Anne Frank, and the first Harry Potter book, and at long last, they're ready to go. As they approach the checkout desk, they pass a notice board advertising, 'Teachers Wanted: University of Bucharest. See front desk for details.' She must look at it a moment too long because he tells her, "You should go for it."

"Huh?" He indicates the notice. "Oh." She shakes her head. "They'd never hire me. I don't have enough experience."

"You never know."

Again, she shakes her head. "It's a nice dream, but no." She won't allow herself to dream of a better job, a better life, when it's not possible.

"Okay." He nods. "I think you're selling yourself short, but okay." She's not, and that's the problem. Her resume is mostly bullshit cobbled together to get her a job. Sure, she has the experience and even the qualifications, but she's been running from her past, hiding her identity for so long it's become a habit. Can she really ever go back? No. All she can do is go forward.

"Come on." She starts towards the checkout counter. "Let's check these out so we can get to reading."

3.

"Head's up!" Bucky looks up just in time to see Marni toss a book in his direction. On instinct, he reaches out his flesh hand to catch it and holds it up, examining the title.

"The Hobbit?"

Chuckling, she settles onto the sofa next to him. "Told you I'd read it." More like devoured it. The book's spine is worn from so many rereadings, the pages dog-eared and passages highlighted with notes written in the margins. This is a book that she doesn't just like. She loves it. He's not an idiot; no one's perfect, but this girl seems pretty damn close. "A teacher gave it to me the year I started having visions and speaking every language. She was the only person who didn't think I was going crazy." Wait-

"So you weren't born having visions?"

She shakes her head. "No, it started when I turned thirteen. Before that, I was completely normal. Well, apart from always being the new kid because my mom and I moved from place to place."

"What about your Dad?"

She shrugs. "Never knew him." His puzzlement must show on his face because she explains, "He and my mom weren't together. They just had a short-term thing while they were both taking part in a clinical trial for some new wonder drug and I was the result."

"So they were doctors?"

She laughs ruefully. "No, they were both broke and needed the money. Never did find out exactly what they thought they were signing up for, but I've always guessed that's why I turned out the way I did." He can feel himself growing hot with fury. All this time later, and they're still using people as guinea pigs. Wasn't what Steve went through enough? What he went through? But if Marni's noticed he's having a meltdown, she doesn't show it, instead changing the subject. "Have you always been a fantasy nerd, or was it just The Hobbit that piqued your interest?" A… what?

"What's a nerd?"

Her forehead wrinkles. "Someone who's really interested in something very specific. Did they not use that word when you were growing up?" He thinks about reminding her that when he was growing up took place nearly a hundred years ago and instead just goes for the truth.

"No, they didn't, and yeah, I guess I was a nerd. I always liked to read. They used to have to kick me out of the library at closing time."

"Huh." She nods. "That explains why your eyes were popping out of your head when you saw all those books."

"There were just so many of them."

She chuckles. "What did I tell you? It's a great library." A glance down at his watch reveals that it's almost ten p.m. They've been reading and talking for five hours.

"I should probably head back home. Let you get to bed." For him, it'll be hours until he falls asleep (if he does), but he knows she needs the rest.

"Let me just get a bag for your books and then I'll walk you out."

"You don't have to-" He starts

"No, it's not a problem. There should be some in the kitchen." She stands and, without thinking, he follows her.

Even though in the past few months, he's been in this kitchen more times than he can count (at least without thinking way too hard about it), it always strikes him how truly tiny it is. As Marni digs through one cabinet and then the next, muttering to herself about, 'must be around here somewhere' he gets a good look inside. Empty. Completely fucking empty, and not in the, 'I just haven't been to the market lately' kind of way. There's not so much as a can of beans in her cupboards, and if he had to guess, the inside of her refrigerator is much the same. Once again, anger floods through his veins, but this time it's directed at himself. He knew she wasn't well off, but how did he not notice that she's barely getting by?

"Here we go." At long last, she produces a plastic grocery bag from underneath the sink. Without saying a word, she shifts his books from her tote to the bag and offers it to him.

"Thanks." Once again, she opens her arms, and he allows himself to hold her, trying to remember if she feels smaller than she did three months ago. She won't go hungry, he thinks to himself as they say their goodbyes. Not while there's breath in his lungs.

4.

The first sign that something is off occurs when, still ten minute's bus ride away from home, she has a vision of Bucky standing outside her apartment next to her and it looks like… are they arguing? That's odd for two reasons: one, she's not supposed to see Barnes for another few days, and the her in the vision is clearly wearing today's clothes, and two, so far they haven't had any truly serious arguments. Sure, she insisted that Snow White was a moron to take the poison apple from an old hag while he insisted that back when the movie came out you didn't have to be quite so careful around strangers, and there was the debate yesterday about who paid for dinner (she lost that one, which was probably for the best; she doesn't get paid for another two days and her cabinets are bare). Still, she looked furious and he looked… chastised. Shaking her head, she shoves the vision to the back of her mind and concentrates on the papers she's grading.

The second sign shows up when she's checking her mail and her neighbor tells her, "There's a strange man trying to get into your apartment. Should I call the police?"

Marni sighs. "Let me guess. Long, dark hair, baseball cap, black shirt that's too tight around the arms?" Her neighbor nods. "Don't bother. I know him." And even if she didn't, the last thing she'd ever do is call the police.

The elevator is slow as molasses in winter (as per usual) and it's been nearly ten minutes before she reaches the sixth floor. Sure enough, Bucky's standing outside her apartment, and-

"Are you picking my lock?"

He straightens, a sheepish smile in place. "Marns, hey." He clears his throat. "Just checking to see how easily it can be picked, actually." Sure. That's a perfectly normal thing to do. She decides to keep that thought to herself in favor of-

"Were you planning to move in or something?"

"Huh?" She indicates the overloaded plastic bags surrounding him (not to mention the impossible number he's still holding onto). "Oh." His unencumbered arm comes up to scratch at the back of his neck. "It's… just a few things I thought you might need."

This time, she can't help but roll her eyes. "A few, huh?"

He shrugs. "I might've gotten a little carried away." Curiosity gets the best of her and she looks down. Corn flakes. Canned vegetables. Bread. Eggs. Milk.

"You brought me groceries?"

A nod, albeit a sheepish one. "I just thought-" He clears his throat. "Never mind." She's not really sure how to proceed, other than-

"Well, if you're not going to pick the lock, I should probably let us in." That, and possibly see about getting him a key. He's over here so often, it would be more convenient.

Once they're inside the apartment, she picks up the discussion again.

"Bucky, you didn't have to do this." That earns her a frown as he unpacks one of the many bags.

"Who said anything about 'have to'?" He can't insist that he wanted to spend his hard earned (doing god knows what) money on making sure her cabinets are full. People just aren't like that. She tries again.

"It's not necessary-"

He sighs, but his hands don't still on the groceries. "Marns, you don't have to lie to me. I know you work hard and get paid peanuts. When you were getting a bag for my books last night, I saw that your cabinets are empty. You can't tell me that's just because you forgot to go grocery shopping." She starts to argue (not that he's wrong about any of this, but it's the principle of the thing) but those piercing blue eyes land on her, and she's frozen. "You would do the same thing if it was me instead of you."

"I-" He's back to unpacking, leaving her there with her cheeks on fire, whether it's from embarrassment that someone knows exactly how badly she's struggling or the strangeness of them doing something about it, she's not sure. Either way, she can't help but be grateful. "Thank you." More than that- "I owe you one."

"No you don't." He shakes his head. "If you have to, think of it payback for the library. You got me five books."

"Buck, you have to return those. I didn't give them to you." Although she wishes to god she could. Seeing his face light up when he found out his favorite book had sequels? That's a memory she keeps replaying over and over.

"Fine." He nods. "Then it's for all the times you've cooked for both of us. Now we're even."

Marni snorts. "You're a terrible liar, Barnes." That quiet huff of laughter escapes him.

"I'm a great liar. You're the one who couldn't fib her way out of a wet paper bag." This time, she's the one laughing.

"Then we're just going to have to agree to disagree."

"Or-" He stretches to place a box of cereal in the cabinet, his shirt riding up to reveal a line of taut muscle and tanned skin (man, she needs to get a hold of herself). "-hear me out. As an alternative, we could just tell each other the truth. Not like we've got anyone else we can do that with."

Swallowing hard, she nods. "Deal."

The next fifteen minutes are a mixture of easy conversation, sarcastic comments, and comfortable silence as they work together to put away the cornucopia of groceries now filing her cabinets and refrigerator. It's pleasant, easily what will be the best part of her day, but at long last, she has to end it.

"I hate to be a terrible host, but I've got to kick you out. I have a student coming in about five minutes."

"Somehow, I think I'll survive the insult." He reaches out, and like so many times before over the past few months, she folds herself into his arms, breathing in the scent of sandalwood, soap, and the laundry detergent he uses. "Sorry if I overstepped today. The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable."

"No." She shakes her head. "It's just… I'm not used to people acting like this."

"Like what?"

She glances up at him. Forehead wrinkled, brow slightly furrowed. He's genuinely confused, and it's as baffling as it is endearing. "Like…" She could play it off. Say something corny or sarcastic, keep the truth to herself. But she said she'd be honest, so she tells him, "…like I matter." No one has in so long.

"You matter, Marns." His voice is a rumble in his chest, tickling her cheek. "You matter, and I'm not going to let you forget it."

As they bid each other farewell, Marni thinks back to that notice in the library about English teachers wanted at the university. Maybe she'll apply after all. It's a long shot, but maybe, just maybe, this time her qualifications will matter. Maybe this time, she can stop running and just stay for a while.