Chapter 1: Meet Cute
Joaquin Torres stands atop the abandoned factory and looks out across the green field. A bead of sweat slides down his temple as he contemplates the deep troughs in the grass. He shouldn't be alone. He should have called someone. But if he can just get this roll right, he will be ready to show Sam his wings. Ready to prove himself as a worthy partner. The new Falcon to the new Captain America. He's floated the idea with Sam before but he's not sure Sam is catching on to his hints. He takes a steading breath and jumps. Flinging his wings out to makes his move. He has no idea someone is watching.
"You don't need a partner, Sam." Bucky says, eyes trained on Joaquin.
"You're one to talk, Mr. Loaner. He looks good so far. Who knows, maybe I do need a partner."
"You know what I mean. He's trying to impress you." Bucky sighs. "He does look good. It's not like he doesn't have your personality, too."
"Damn, he almost had it. There at the end. Ouch. Let's see if he's ok." Sam tells Bucky. They stride across the field toward a crumpled Torres laying defeated in the grass. Barely moving, not because he's hurt. Just regrouping his thoughts. He's pulled from his self-deprecating thoughts by Sam's booming voice. "You almost had it! You ok, Torres?"
"How'd you know I'd be here?! It's not ready for you to see yet, I can do better!" Torres panics.
"I got your clues when we last spoke. Oh, that gash is goin'a need stitches. I'll show you where you went wrong after we get that fixed up. To the hospital first."
"No, no, it's not hospital worthy. I got it. I also think I have a prototype of my own Redwing that I need you to look at back at my apartment. Wil you come look at it while I get this stitched up?"
The three walk quickly out of the elevator at Torres building. The boisterous sounds of Duke Ellington are floating out of the first apartment on the left. Bucky's brows furrow and he stops for a moment. That's a record, not a digital recording. Torres guides them to the first apartment on the right. While Joaquin and Sam are deep in discussion about all the work Joaquin has done, Bucky stays at the doorway listening. The record changes. He has so many questions.
"Torres, who lives down the hall? The one playing the records?" he asks.
"Oh, that's Abuelita." He offers no more explanation. But now she's playing Bucky's favorite record. He never bothered to get a record player or collect records since he moves around so much. Seemed frivolous to even think about with aliens and the flag smashers keeping him busy. He didn't' realize he missed it until they came out of the elevator today.
"This is my favorite record…" he says almost to himself, stepping into the doorway more to stare at the door, willing it to open. Joaquin smiles. Sam's left eyebrow raises watching his friends with curiosity.
"I need to head down there, she's great with stitches. Go ahead man, I'm sure she will loan you the record. She's super sweet. Knits and paints in her spare time. You'll love Abuelita. She's about your age too." Torres spouts off while he grabs a rag to wet down. Determined to start treating his wound before he joins Bucky. Bucky steps tentatively out into the hall. Torres' neighbor is over 100 years old too? Bucky looks back at Sam, and Sam starts to follow but Torres grabs his arm keeping him in the doorway as Bucky presses on. A knowing smirk and quick finger pressed to his lips to quiet Sam's protests. Sam feels like a kid again, watching his friend go to talk to a girl. But this is a grandma who knits that lives next to Torres. Why did Torres stop him. What's with the smile? What on earth is going on!? He was too curious to question it all. He could only watch Bucky approach the door and see what unfurled.
Bucky reaches the door and knocks. Nothing happens. He knocks again, a little louder. Abuelita apparently has bad hearing seeing as the record is so loud. Nothing happens.
"Knock like you mean it, Barnes!" coaches Torres. And so, Bucky does. Bucky's enhanced hearing picks up a small squeak of shock from Abuelita. Oh no, he scared the poor old lady. The record halts. "There ya go, man!" Bucky wonders why Torres is so excited. It's just a record from the little old lady down the hall and Bucky's not going to take advantage of the loan she's about to give him. Maybe she also knows where he can get more. And a record player. He'd ask when she finally opens the door. He can hear cautious footsteps coming to the door. The locks slide free, and the door opens. Just enough that Bucky can see the most gorgeous woman in her mid-thirties to early forties he has ever seen. It quickly dons on him that Torres meant old like Bucky looks, not like Bucky is. His gaze shifts down the hall to Torres and he sets free the biggest glare he can. Abuelita is still peaking at him in shock. Who is this stranger at your door? Torres decides it's time to help you both and screams "Abuelita! That's my friend. He wants to borrow that record. And I need your help, I'll be there in…oof." but he never finishes the sentence. After he called you, you poked your head out the door to see him. When Sam catches a good glimpse of you, he punches Torres mid-sentence for the slight to Bucky. And you. Maybe Torres does have Sam's personality. Sam sees Bucky's satisfied smirk as he steps back to make room for you to see Torres. What are friends for?
"Get in here, Torres! And push that rag harder, no blood on my carpet this time." You scold. "Any friends of Torres' are friends of mine, come in." Torres almost runs inside, impressed with his handy work and charade. Sam and Bucky close behind as he introduces them.
"Abuelita, this is Sam and Bu- (Bucky glares harder this time) James." Torres knows you already know who they are from previous conversations together.
"Well, Sam, did you teach him how to perfect that move or am I taking care of more stitches later?" You jab at Sam, surprised to see him since Torres told you he hadn't called him yet. More surprised to see bleeding Torres since he told you he was taking today off. And then there was James. You knew of him from the Smithsonian. And Torres had mentioned him and his infamous parachute-less jump. Torres was already in the bathroom getting the first aid kit. "Buh-James, let's get you that record." You smiled. Bucky wants you to do it again. And again. And aga-wait, what did you say to him? He silently followed you into your apartment and toward the record player.
"I'll teach him later. He almost had it. This is quite the first aid kit." Sam interrupts. Well, Bucky feels he has interrupted. He'd prefer neither of the other men be here. He feels on display. As do you. It's over whelming.
"Well, Torres is clumsy." It was a deflection. Thankfully they allowed it. Sam even laughed a little. Torres scoffs and then laughs as Sam helps him treat his wound, so you don't have to.
Sam and Torres are finished but wouldn't interrupt for the world now. They have moved out of the bathroom and are openly staring at you and Bucky while you talk. The conversation having gone on for some time and crossed many subjects before you put the record back in the sleeve and hold it out to Bucky. "There. All set. Keep it as long as you like. It's a favorite of mine too. Do you have a player?"
"Uh, no. I mean, I used to, but I don't have one right now. I, uh, where do you even buy records these days? This is amazing." He was cute when he rambled.
"There's a specialty shop down the street. Owner had a record player the other day, it may still be there today." You hinted.
"Maybe. Maybe you could show me the place after coffee tomorrow?" He asked. Sam and Torres smile. They are finished but wouldn't interrupt for the world now.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'd love to."
"Great. It's a date."