Chapter 4 Restraint

Bucky

She was there, on the darkened rooftop, talking with Natasha, wearing a blue top. Her blonde hair hung loose over her shoulders, and I knew I was smitten. We made eye contact and I told my daughter, Rose, I'd be right back. As I approached I wondered what would work best to sweep Jane Peterson off her feet.

"So, Jane, nice to see you in one piece," I said, offering my hand to her. The direct approach, right? "I'm Bucky and I believe I owe you some money."

"No, no, that's alright," she stammered. "You helped me out in a tough spot. I was just overwhelmed being stranded in such a neighbourhood. Natasha told me you were living on the streets there for two months."

"Yeah, I kind of immersed myself into the situation," I replied. "Well, if you won't take my money at least let me take you out for dinner."

Natasha winked at us and left me alone with Jane to be with Sam. She looked terrified, like I was going to hurt her or something and I suddenly recognized her from the news. She must have sensed it.

"Excuse me," she said, putting her glass down and rushing past me in a panic.

She headed for the stairs, and I followed her to make her understand she was in a safe space. I found her struggling to get her key in the apartment door, obviously not feeling safe at all.

"I'm only asking for dinner," I said, inwardly groaning at how inadequate that sounded. She froze at my words. "Do I make you nervous?" Like that was any better to say.

"I don't know what you make me," she replied, almost cringing away from me. "I'm not in a good space right now, as far as dating goes."

"Why?"

I tried to keep my voice soft and non-threatening but even though I was several feet away from her it felt like she just wanted to melt into the door, away from my gaze. It was obvious she had experienced some serious trauma. I felt drawn to her, trying to assure her that I would never hurt her.

"I've just gone through a very painful divorce," she said, still looking at the door. "My ex-husband tried to kill me."

"I know who you are," I said quietly. "I recognized you. What if you don't look at it as a date?"

"How else would I look at it?"

"Two people who met under a difficult situation, becoming friends and finding common ground," I replied. "Nothing more. I think you need more friends, especially because you're alone, in a new city, and you're still dealing with your divorce. Let me be your friend, Jane."

"Guys that look like you aren't friends with girls that look like me," she whispered.

I wasn't sure what she meant by that. She was a beautiful woman. I blurted something out then almost regretted saying it, realizing it probably sounded flippant.

"Well, we should change that, shouldn't we?"

"Why are you doing this?" Her voice was almost a whisper, and she still wouldn't look at me.

"Honestly?" I leaned against the door and took a very audible breath trying to consider what to say that didn't sound like a come on. "I had one disastrous marriage, about a dozen failed relationships and the common thread amongst all of them was that I fell fast and hard before I ever got to know any of them. When I was out on the street I did learn that homeless women were very vulnerable and the only thing I could do for them was to offer my protection while they slept with no strings attached. So, I'll modify that to offer my friendship to you with no obligation on your part. I'm a man of my word and I do want the opportunity to be your friend." I watched as she processed my words. "Please."

Turning so she could look at me I saw an extremely beautiful but vulnerable woman, but I also saw a woman in need of a friend more than anything. What I said must have resonated with her because she nodded her head, I stepped back to give her room and she walked towards the stairs. Together we went back up to the roof and I handed her the glass of wine. Sam brought me a beer and I sipped it then gestured towards Rose. Together we went over to her.

"Rose, this is my friend Jane," I said. "She's new to New York. She's the lady I helped with a flat tire in Brownsville."

"Dad told me about you," she said, her face in a sweet smile. "Said you gave him some pretty good sass. I would have liked to have seen that. Usually, he thinks he has everything under control so it's nice to hear that someone called him out."

"Hey, whose side are you on?" I asked jokingly. God, I adored my baby girl, especially today on her 21st birthday. "Rose is a journalism student at NYU, although she's working a clerical job at the precinct for the summer. Starts her final year in August. Her mom, stepdad and I are so proud of her."

"Aw, Dad, I'm proud of you, too," she replied, blushing then she turned to Jane. "Did you know that he got his criminal justice degree at night school, while he was working as a patrol officer? Not many teen dads can pull it together like he did. He stepped up when Mom wanted to go to night school as well."

"It was the least I could do to make it up to her," I replied softly. I looked at Rose's wine glass and took the opportunity to escape her biased praise. "Let me get you a refill. I'll be right back."

Sam came over as I poured Rose more wine. "What was that about?" he asked. "I thought you scared her off."

"You didn't recognize her?" He shook his head. "Jane Walker, who turned her now ex-husband in for espionage in California. I guess she's living here under an assumed name until the trial since he tried to have her killed. She's definitely under stress."

"Jesus, you're right," he replied, taking a good look at Jane. "A relationship is probably the furthest thing from her mind right now. What are you going to do?"

I smiled but I was serious. "Be her friend first."

"Right," he smirked. "Let me know how that works out."

"Fuck you," I grinned and went back, noticing Rose talking earnestly with Jane. I gave Rose her glass. "You two seemed deep into a conversation."

Rose blushed. "She was just telling me where the best spa is for pedicures and Brazilian waxing," said Jane, with a straight face.

I've been a cop long enough to know when I'm being lied to, but I didn't call either of them on it as I didn't want to make a scene. It ended up being a nice evening with her and the others. When I asked for her phone to put my contact information in, she hesitated at first but then gave it to me. What was even better was she asked for my phone to put her information in. It was the next step in establishing trust between us and I was honoured. Then she asked for my help in finding and transporting a new bookcase, so I agreed to take her to IKEA the next day. There's one in Red Hook, not too far away from her place.

When I arrived the following morning I brought the tape measure up to her place so we could measure the spot she had in mind. Her place was nice, if a bit small. It was a good experience shopping with her. I think she felt comfortable as she took my suggestions well. As part of the deal to take her to IKEA I said I would treat her to the Swedish meatball lunch there, feeling it was my duty to make sure she knew I was a simple man at heart. Again, it felt right being with her and she filled me in a little on her ex-husband. I could understand why she was skittish about starting another relationship. John Walker did a real number on her. If I ever meet the guy, I'm going to tell him he was A) a fool, B) an asshole, and C) one of the worst humans I know for trying to hurt this beautiful woman.

Sam was right that being in a platonic friendship with Jane would be hard. I've had platonic friendships with women, cops mostly, married or lesbian cops, but really I haven't had many actual friendships with women that I'm attracted to. And I was attracted to her, I admit it. Since the night I changed her tire I thought of her. This was new ground for me, to put my own desires aside while I got to know a woman first. I had to believe that taking my time might result in something longer lasting than the usual 6 months most of my previous relationships other than my marriage had lasted.

When we finished eating at the IKEA cafeteria, we picked up the boxes containing the bookcase, and paid for them, some cushions and a throw blanket for her living room. Jane surprised me by going to the frozen food kiosk and, with a shit eating grin, bought a package of the frozen Swedish meatballs.

"Just in case I ever invite you for dinner," she said. "I'll know you'll be happy with these."

We loaded the truck, got back to her place and together were able to carry the heavy flat packs up the stairs to her apartment. I brought a tool kit with me, even though they provide that Allen key with every purchase, as I knew from experience that a screwdriver and hammer would likely be needed. By the time I got back up to Jane's apartment with it she had the pieces out of the box and was just sorting the hardware. We needed a flat head and a Phillips head screwdriver. I had a couple of cordless screwdrivers which I charged up overnight at my place and fitted them with the right bits. Using the hammer we started with the dowels, putting them into a shelf where the instructions indicated. Then we each screwed in the first set of bolts into the side panels.

"You've done this before," I commented.

"Yeah, I had a lot of IKEA furniture while I went to university in Edmonton," she replied. "Never thought to use cordless screwdrivers. Would have saved my wrists from a lot of carpal tunnel grief."

"Edmonton?" I replied. "Alberta, right? I've never been there, to Alberta I mean."

"I'm from there," she stated, as we lifted the panels, sliding them onto the stationary shelf, and inserting the locking mechanisms to catch the bolts. "Got my degree in computer science from the University of Alberta, worked in the online gaming industry, then Ben Harmon offered me a job in California. I had an American grandparent so getting a green card to work was fairly easy. I haven't been back since the wedding." She sat back onto her heels. "My parents came down after the attempt on my life and wanted me to go back with them, but I don't know ... I would feel like a failure if I did."

There was more there that she left unsaid but I wasn't going to pry. "Do you miss it?"

I watched her as her face lit up. She did miss it as not a single emotion that went over her face was a bad one.

"I don't miss the days of -40 cold in the winter," she admitted. She handed me a couple of dowels to insert in the bottom shelf of the unit. "I miss the winter days when it warms up to 0 Celsius, which is 32 Fahrenheit. It feels like spring after a week of the bitter cold. Everyone is out, their jackets open, no hats or scarves and you can feel the warmth of the sun on your face. It's a promise of spring. The sky is so open there and just after sunset it takes on a colour of blue that I can't describe but says home to me. The summers can be glorious, although they're not long enough, and sometimes there are too many mosquitos. I miss my parents and my siblings, two brothers and a sister."

She suddenly got up and went to her bedroom, closing the door the behind her. For just a moment I stayed there then I got up and lightly knocked on the door.

"Can I come in?" I asked.

There was a muffled response and I opened the door. She was sitting on her bed and I could see the tears running down her cheeks from the doorway. I did what I always did for Rose when she was upset and crying ... I sat with Jane, put my arm around her and drew her close.

"I didn't mean to make you cry," I murmured. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay," she sniffed. "I do miss them, very much. They didn't like John at all. My dad warned me that he would hurt me and he was right. I miss having him give me advice. I miss my mom's cookies. I miss ..."

She didn't get any further and began to cry again. It took all of my willpower not to kiss her tears away. There was a box of tissues beside the bed and I reached for it, pulling a couple out and placing them in her hand. A brief smile crossed her face and she wiped her eyes, then blew her nose. After a couple of minutes I could sense she was ready to stand and I stood up first.

"Let's get this bookcase built and go for ice cream after," I suggested. "It always helped Rose get over a broken heart. Maybe it will help you."

Perhaps it was the promise of ice cream or just an increase in her trust of me but we flew through assembling the bookcase and after I attached it to the wall I helped her put her books on the shelves, making note of several titles that matched my own taste in reading. There was an ice cream parlour in the direction of Prospect Park and I bought us each a waffle cone then we settled on a bench in the park and watched the world go by. An older couple with their own ice cream walked past us and stood as the man took his handkerchief out and dabbed the edge of his wife's lip, before kissing her softly. We both watched without comment but did smile at each other.

"What made you get married in high school?" asked Jane. "I mean, that wasn't a usual thing at the turn of the millennium."

"I thought it was true love," I replied. "Connie and I knew each other since junior high, but didn't start dating until our junior year when we both suddenly saw each other in a different light. We got careless, got pregnant and I thought I loved her enough to come through for her. By the time I reached the age of 18 I knew I couldn't support a family on the jobs I was qualified for so I joined the Army. Didn't tell her because I thought I was being a real man, and didn't need my wife's permission. I was gone for three years, and we suffered through another year of marriage before doing the grown-up thing and ending it. Our parents took turns looking after Rose while we both worked to get money for college, but I went to a police recruitment seminar and realized I had a better chance of being a cop than being a college graduate, so I entered the academy. When I graduated, I did all I could to help Connie realize her dreams. It wasn't easy but we both came away with some satisfaction and a daughter that we loved."

"I thought you were her sugar daddy at the party," said Jane. "You were so affectionate with each other, and it just rubbed me the wrong way. Natasha set me straight."

I burst out laughing, feeling it right down to my feet. It was the funniest thing I had heard in a long time. "Well, that's a new one." Jane didn't look very amused. "Sorry, but I guess without you knowing I had an adult daughter it was probably the only thing that made sense. Does it bother you to know that I have a 21-year-old daughter?"

She coloured a little. "No, I can see you're an affectionate father. She loves you a lot and cares about your opinion. That says a lot about you as a person."

I nodded and took a lick of my cone. "She's in love," I stated. "I have my suspicion who it is, but I wish they would just tell me. I wouldn't stand in their way."

Jane coloured again and I knew that she knew who it was. She didn't offer any hint and I didn't ask her as it was something that I wanted to hear from Rose's lips or Joaquin's, who I suspected was the man in my daughter's life. It was true that I wouldn't stand in their way but I was sure going to enjoy making him sweat in the meantime.

We walked back to Jane's place and I picked up my toolbox from her living room. As I was contemplating whether to kiss Jane on the cheek or hug her she suddenly leaned forward and did both to me.

"Thank you for everything today," she said. "It feels good to hang out with someone. Are you working Friday afternoon?"

"Yeah, I'm on duty until 4 pm," I replied. "We can do something after. You like the blues? Sam, Natasha, Steve, Peggy and I often go out to a blues club. You're welcome to come as my friend."

She smiled sweetly and I thought I hadn't seen anything so pretty in a long time. "Okay, sounds like fun. Have a great week until then."

The following day I went to the precinct for my first official day back, having received the previous week off to "recuperate" from my undercover assignment. After Steve, I was the first one in the squad room, dressed in my uniform. For the longest time no one entered, and I looked up at him, seeing a smirk beginning to form.

"Okay, what's up?" I asked. "Where is everyone?"

"Just getting ready is what I was told," he said, his eyes crinkling. "Ah, here they are now."

I admit it was funny to see everyone walk in wearing disposable forensics hazmat suits. Even Sam was wearing one and they all came in like it was a normal day. My "partner" sat beside me, pulled his mask off, and grinned that gap toothed smile of his.

"Buck," he said. "How's the lice situation?"

I stood up and looked at all of them. "Fuck you all," I said. "I've been with half of you this past week and you know I'm clean. Jesus, Steve, you going to put up with this shit?"

"Sergeant Barnes, I'm shocked," said Steve, trying his best to keep a straight face. "Your colleagues know you're a dedicated police officer and when you go undercover ... you go ... all the way. Sorry, Buck, this is funny as hell."

Steve started laughing so hard he put his hand on his chest as he bent over. He stopped laughing when Captain Rhodes walked in with two people from Internal Affairs. He didn't say they were IA, but they definitely looked it. The first, a mean looking black man, just stared at everyone to the point that some of them began removing the hazmat suits. The dark-haired woman smiled a little, but she looked all business as well and seemed to take her cue from her partner. Rhodes took the podium and looked directly at me, giving me a sinking feeling that I was going to be called on again for an undercover assignment.

"First of all, I wanted to welcome Sarge back from his two-month long assignment as a homeless person," he said. "As you know we accumulated a significant amount of evidence on the production and sale of tainted fentanyl in the Brownsville neighbourhood but it wasn't until ten days ago that we finally acquired the final piece of the puzzle thanks to Sarge's identification of a couple of Fontaine goons using a Gallo license plate to pick up Dom Leone. It was enough to put out an APB on Gina Testa, which resulted in the arrest of her and Fab Fontaine at a routine traffic stop, who just happened to have a pound of fentanyl in his car. That led to a search warrant at the Fontaine warehouse, which was full of the tainted product. His mother has already called in the big guns to try and have the search warrant declared illegal, but it won't happen. We have Val Fontaine right where we want her and the only thing that will help her is if she rolls on someone bigger."

There were murmurs throughout the squad room at that announcement. Val Fontaine was a slippery customer, a lot smarter than her father but a lot more dangerous as well. It felt good to close her operation down but if she gave up someone higher on the food chain it could be worth it, although I didn't like the idea of letting her resume her dirty business. Rhodes let the murmurs last only a few more seconds before making his next announcement.

"At the conclusion of the briefing I would like the following personnel to come to my conference room," said Rhodes. "Lieutenant Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, Sergeant Wilson, Officer Torres, Officer Danvers." He started to step away from the podium then turned back. "Nice touch with the hazmat suits. Sarge, your dedication is inspiring."

He left with the two IA officers and Steve stepped back to the podium to turn over the briefing to Clint Barton. He had taken over supervision of the squad while Sam and I were on the investigation. With no further delay he ran down the names of assorted suspects that were wanted, then brought up a couple of crimes that happened overnight, finishing up with a list of stolen cars that we were to keep our eyes open for. He handed out the day's duty assignments then looked to Steve to see if there was anything more. He dismissed the rank and file then came close to where Sam and I were standing, hoping like we were to find out what was going on. Torres and Danvers approached.

"Sarge, any idea what IA wants with us?" asked Torres.

I shrugged and looked at Steve. He turned a little red, so he did know, but wasn't at liberty to tell us. Leading the way, we all went to Captain Rhodes' conference room where he was sitting with the two IA officers and another man whose back was turned to the window. Rhodes waved us in, and we sat ourselves down at the table. The other man, a big blonde guy, looked vaguely familiar but I couldn't place him. Once the door was closed and the blinds drawn Rhodes introduced the three visitors.

"This is Captain Nick Fury and Lieutenant Maria Hill of Internal Affairs," he began. "This man is FBI agent Thor Odinson. They are planning a multi-agency investigation into the infiltration of law enforcement by right wing militias. The planning is still in its early stage, but they wanted experienced operatives from our department to be involved."

"Sir, I've never actually been undercover," said Torres. "And I think I look too Latino to integrate into a right-wing militia."

"That's true, and Danvers I know your undercover experience is limited as well but you've both proven you can handle yourself in a fight which is why you're in this meeting," said Rhodes. "You'll be posing as a couple operating a business. Sam, you'll be manning the command truck just like you did for the Brownsville investigation which leads us to Buck." He took a sizeable breath. "In fact, your participation was specifically requested by Odinson here."

I looked at the man, still not sure where I knew him from. Then he opened his mouth and spoke.

"Come on Mickey, it will be fun," said Odinson, in the voice of Big Bobby, the mentally ill homeless man. "Your dedication to your assignment impressed me as did your compassion to the fairer sex when you offered to be protector to several homeless women. A true gentleman."

"Fuck, you're Big Bobby?" I asked. "What the hell were you doing on our investigation?"

"He wasn't," said Fury. "He was watching a couple of officers in this division, an Officer Rollins and Officer Rumlow. I believe you had an altercation with Rollins. Both of those men are suspected of being recruiters for the White Sword militia. They were also storing stolen firearms in a warehouse in the area. We weren't notified because the FBI wasn't sure how deep the militia had infiltrated the precinct. When Rollins was relocated to traffic division after his altercation with you and Rumlow was assigned to Assistant Commissioner Pierce's security detail we became involved after Agent Odinson ended his undercover assignment and advised us about the two officers."

To say I was bowled over would be an understatement. Big Bobby wasn't real, he was the street persona of an FBI agent investigating right wing militias and he wanted me to partner up with him on a new investigation. This was unexpected and to be honest, I wasn't sure I wanted to dedicate more of my life to living on the edge. Until I knew more, I wasn't going to make any decision for or against.