Just like all the days before, Bucky paced in the front row of the empty stadium. Stage hands wandered around him, plugging in various cords and rolling equipment into place for this evening's show. Gianna's vocal warm ups had become comforting to him at this point in the tour, a pleasant routine they lived out more days than not. Today was different, though.
Today, they'd woken up together.
Every morning preceding this one was pretty much the same. Bucky would wake up with the sun, shower and get dressed, and check in with the Avengers. Even though he was away on this longer term mission, he liked to stay in the loop with what the rest of the team was doing. Once it got closer to 8am, he'd head to retrieve Gianna. Her daily responsibilities didn't start right away, but she liked to begin the day at her own pace, have some time to herself before being thrust into the daily itinerary already set out for her.
She'd never said it outright, but Bucky knew it was her way of taking some semblance of control over her life. Even if it was only between the hours of 8-10am, even if it was only to find a cute coffee shop in a new city, even if her only company was her paid security, it was her time. He was determined to make sure she got it.
Normally, he'd cross the hall and do his signature knock on the door, his metal hand louder than the average. While he heard her footsteps pad across the carpeted floor, he'd do a quick Google search for the nearest coffee shop with croissants, her favorite. By the time the door opened to her fresh-faced smile, he had their destination all picked out.
It was Bucky's favorite part of every day.
Despite the small crew, the nature of touring with an internationally beloved pop star was that there would be people surrounding them almost all the time. Whether it was the band, the stage crew, paparazzi, fans (who were somehow always screaming and/or crying), or Tom and Kate…there was very little solitude outside of their hotel rooms. Considering they typically didn't return to their hotel rooms until well past midnight most nights, that time was rare.
When they got coffee, it felt more private, intimate. They'd pull their baseball caps low and their hoods up, a half-hearted attempt to hide from the world that knew exactly where they were. Or rather, where Gianna was. That was another perk of being by her side, no one ever really noticed Bucky. Although he typically had a jacket or sweatshirt on, he bet if he walked out with his metal arm bared for the world to see, not one person would notice if Gianna Cruz was by his side. He liked the anonymity he got from being with her, although he felt a pang of guilt knowing that his privacy was at the cost of her own.
"Whatcha doing?" Gianna's playful voice snapped him out of his stupor.
He looked up at her, standing on the edge of the stage with her hand on her hip, bedazzled microphone in the other.
"Oh, the usual, watching the best show in the world." He teased.
She rolled her eyes, shrugging off his flattery. "No silly, what are you doing there." Her hand gestured to his, where he was absentmindedly playing with the knife he normally kept holstered on his thigh. He had been tossing, flipping, catching, generally just playing with it.
Bucky looked up at her, feeling a hint of embarrassment that he'd been brandishing a weapon clearly enough for her to notice. "Sorry, I didn't even realize I was doing it," he said, his voice soft.
Gianna smiled, eyes twinkling with the mischief of another idea.
"Can you show me how to do that?" she asked, pointing at the knife.
Bucky looked at her, surprised. He wondered why on Earth she'd be stopping a rehearsal to learn how to flip a knife.
"Sure, I can show you, but if you lose a finger before the show we may have to refund some tickets," he said, hopping onto the stage with her.
"I was thinking maybe I'd use my own weapon of choice…" She waved the pink microphone, the glitter catching the stage light.
"Ah, I see. A new party trick."
Gianna watched as Bucky expertly threw the knife up with one hand and caught it backhanded with the other. She was mesmerized, watching the way his metal arm glinted in the light. He tossed it again, flipping it in his hand before performing the same catch.
"Wow, that's so freakin' cool," she breathed, her voice full of admiration.
Bucky smiled, his cheeks flushing despite himself. "It's all in the wrist."
He shoved down his inner voice, teasing him for blushing over a girl who was fawning over moves he'd perfected as a lethal assassin. Nothing cute about that.
Gianna kept her eyes on Bucky's hand, holding the microphone in position. He slowly flipped the knife, catching it as slowly as his super soldier reflexes would allow him. She tossed the microphone up, but promptly knocked it to the ground when she attempted the backhanded catch.
The stadium was filled with an awful high-pitched sound as the microphone feedback hissed through the speakers. Gianna clapped her hands over her ears and made a face.
"Sorry," She called sheepishly as several of the crewmembers gave her a dirty look. She looked at Bucky and giggled, clicking the microphone off.
Bucky laughed, "It takes practice," he said, his voice reassuring.
They spent the next hour practicing the move, Bucky gently guiding her hand and teaching her the proper technique. Gianna was surprised at how patient and gentle he was.
As Tom came to tell them it was time to break for lunch, Gianna felt a sense of accomplishment. She had all but mastered the move, thanks to Bucky's guidance. They walked backstage to the green room where lunch had been catered in, with Gianna practicing the flip as she walked.
"See?" Bucky said, putting his arm around her. "You're a natural."
"I had a good teacher." She said, scrunching her nose up at him.
Later that evening, as Gianna was performing one of her more upbeat, chart-topping songs, she threw her microphone up with one hand and caught it backhanded with the other, just like Bucky had taught her.
She looked backstage as she continued to execute all her choreography to perfection, winking at Bucky as he watched her. A mixture of emotion swirled in his stomach. He felt pride, a giddy sense of enjoyment watching her perform. He felt that familiar warmth at the way she somehow made him feel like the only person she saw in a crowd of hundreds of thousands. New to the mix was a different kind of warmth, a little lower than the butterflies in his stomach. Something about the way she was dancing, hair tousled from all the movement, performing his move and then that wink…he shook his head, afraid of where that train of thought was headed.
As they slipped into the back of the black suburban, Gianna started tugging bobby pins out of her hair.
"So did I look cool?"
"Oh man, I almost started screaming along with the rest of 'em." Bucky teased, holding out his hand to collect the pins as she let her hair down.
"Maybe tomorrow you can teach me something else. Got any other cool tricks?"
"Not unless you have a way to incorporate a roundhouse kick into your little dances."
"Hey, that may spice things up." She shrugged, running her fingers through her hair to release the rest of the curls.
"I think you're all set in that department." Bucky breathed, watching her hair cascade down her back.
"Oh yeah?" She shifted in the backseat, facing him.
For a moment, he didn't know what to say. His breath caught in his chest as her fox-like eyes tempted him just by the way they bore into his own.
Thankfully, they were interrupted by the driver.
"Sergeant Barnes?" He called from the front seat. "We may have an issue."
Leaning forward, Bucky saw the issue in question. Hoards and hoards of fans had set up camp outside the hotel, crowding the entire block. The circle drive of the hotel was hopelessly entrenched in teen girls with feather boas. There was no way the suburban could drive in, and even if they somehow made it through the crowd, Gianna would get absolutely ambushed trying to get into the hotel.
Bucky immediately shifted gears. "Circle the block, go up to 17th. There's a service entrance to the hotel." He was punching away on his phone, telling Tom to alert the hotel they'd need access to the back.
The driver did as he was told, taking a detour to bring them up the shadowed alley behind their hotel.
"Pull up to the unloading bay, as close as you can get." Bucky instructed.
As the suburban came to a stop, Bucky leapt out of the car, striding quickly to Gianna's side. He opened the door and slung her bag over his shoulder before holding out a hand to help her down. She was quiet as she exited, resigning herself to the chaos that became more and more commonplace each day.
Bucky jumped onto the concrete ledge in front of them, easily clearing a 6 ft wall. The ledge was made for semi trucks to back up to, unloading supplies for the hotel. Gianna looked up at him, her eye level at least a foot beneath where he was standing. Crouching down, Bucky slid his hands around her upper arms, pulling her onto the platform with him. He didn't so much as blink, as if lifting her from that height was as easy as lifting up his coffee cup in the morning.
Focus, this is not the time. Gianna swallowed hard, ignoring the jolt in her stomach when he took her hand and pulled her towards the back door.
The purposeful strides, the firm but gentle grip he kept on her hand, the way he never let her carry her own bag, the way the dark jeans hugged his hips - get it together, G!
As they slid into the elevator and Bucky punched the key to their floor, Gianna looked up at the ceiling. She was alarmed at how little she cared about the turn their night took, especially in comparison to the growing urge she felt to get Bucky back in her bed.
They strode towards their respective rooms in silence. Bucky glanced over their shoulders every few steps, ensuring they were alone. As they approached Gianna's room, he slowed and put his hand on her lower back.
"We should be alright, we've got guys at the front doors and at the elevators. No one's getting up here. The worst case scenario is you have to listen to them scream your name all night."
I'd rather listen to you scream my name all night.
Gianna's eyes widened, looking up at Bucky, petrified he'd somehow heard her thoughts.
"What? Are you okay? What's wrong?" He looked back and forth between her eyes, noticing a red flush spreading across her face.
"I uh, nothing." She breathed out. "Just trying to take it all in."
She took another deep breath. "Thanks for tonight, Bucky, and last night. And every night on this tour. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Well, doll, you don't have to. At least not for 12 more weeks." He squeezed her shoulder, the cool metal of his hand chilling her through her sweatshirt sleeve.
"I'll have to talk to Tom about that contract extension." Her words were teasing but her voice was soft, eyes looking up at him, swirling with all sorts of things he couldn't begin to read.
"Goodnight, G." Bucky's voice was low. "Call me if you need anything."
"Night, Buck."
Gianna bit her lip as she closed the door, leaning into it as it latched behind her. She wondered if not wanting to sleep alone qualified as her needing something. Before she could contemplate it too hard, she forced herself into the dark bathroom room to take a shower.