A/N: Once again I feel the need to apologize for taking forever to post. Mostly because it is taking me forever to write these chapters. At least it's another long one? The liberties I took later in the chapter (you'll know when you get there) are based on speculation that came up online while the show aired. I have no idea if anything of the sort will ever happen, but it is fun to play with and I fully expect large parts of this story to become canon adjacent once we see Bucky and Sam back on the screen be it big or small.

If you've made it this far THANK YOU! I promise to try to make the remainder worth both your time and energy.

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Bucky coughed himself back into an extremely unwelcome consciousness. His entire body screamed with the combination of pain and adrenaline, the latter of which should have cleared the fog from his mind, but instead simply made his head pound all the harder. Opening his eyes in hopes of assessing the situation before his body forced him to react he saw… not much of anything, the light dim even for him and choked with what appeared to be dust. When he coughed again it only confirmed what his eyes had seen.

He took a moment to take in his surroundings and realized that, while apparently upright, his legs currently did not support his weight at all. He gathered his legs under him and made a valiant attempt to push fully upright, only to not be able to do so. At all. His legs were exerting the necessary effort, but aside from his hips shifting he failed to move an inch.

"What the hell?" he muttered, throat surprisingly sore, though he should have been prepared for that given the amount of dust that he'd been breathing in for who knew how long. He resisted the urge to struggle in the building panic that seeped into his mind. His hindbrain triggered that fight or flight instinct that he thought he'd fully learned to control a long, long time ago.

He turned his head only to smack the side of it into a hard surface behind him. An oddly angled surface at that. He shifted his right hand back to discover the rough surface of a wall that he suspected shouldn't actually be there. Again he tried to straighten, but while the weight on his back did not seem to constrict he still failed to shift even a millimeter.

He tried to move his left arm, hoping he could use the stronger material to shift whatever was behind him enough to free him, but nothing happened. The cybernetic arm hung there unmoving and unresponsive.

He had no clue how he'd ended up in this position, but given how badly his head hurt at the moment shouldn't be all that surprising he supposed. A crackling buzz in his right ear made him wince and groan in pain as the sound had been so loud. It continued for several seconds before actual words could be made out.

"Bucky, god damn it, respond."

He knew that voice, though the hint of panic in it could be considered something new. "What?" he grouched, wanting to focus on freeing himself without Sam yelling at him. "Shit. Sam."

"There you are. Are you all right?"

Bucky gave a harsh bark of laughter. "No. What the hell happened?"

"You don't remember?"

"Not a thing, but given I apparently am holding up a wall I'm not all that shocked."

Sam huffed out an audible breath. "Later. I'll explain later. We're doing what we can to stabilize the building now, but it may be a while before we can get to you."

Just then something tugged on Bucky's pant leg causing him to snap his head back in reaction and smash it into the surface behind him. Thankfully the distance he could move was minimal, but that made it hurt no less. He forced himself to calm then carefully tipped his head down to see what sort of creature had made the effort to get his attention.

"Sam?"

"Yeah, Buck."

The light of a cell phone illuminated the tiny pocket of space he had created when he'd made his attempt to keep a wall from crashing down. "I have four civilians with me. One adult and three children. They're under a stairwell that appears to be intact. I have a limited view of the area. I am apparently keeping a wall from collapsing on all of us."

"Fuck," Sam muttered under his breath. "That's why you ran back in. Can you access the stairs at all?"

"Not a chance. I'm trapped, my left shoulder is caught between the stairs and the wall." Memories began to filter back in. The negotiations. The troops becoming more and more aggressive. The GRC reps refusing to see reason. The smoke grenades quickly followed by RPGs fired into a building full of peaceful protestors.

Bucky and Sam's refusal to force the civilians out of their homes.

Then, against GRC orders, rushing into the now burning building, to rescue all they could.

"Sam…"

"Keep them calm. We'll get to you as fast as we can."

"I can do that," he responded knowing there would be a far more serious discussion once the job had been finished and they were no longer on an open comm channel. He met the woman's eyes. "Help is on the way, but it may take some time."

She shook her head then said with a heavy accent. "No English." Quickly followed by what sounded like a half-dozen questions in a language that sounded like some variation of Spanish.

That gave him another piece of the puzzle. He repeated his statement in what he hoped was the right language, her eyes going wide as she nodded then turned to the children to assure them they'd be okay.

"Brazil?" he asked her, and she nodded. He adjusted the language accordingly. "Are all of you all right?"

"Yes, some scrapes and bruises but alive. Thanks to you." She tipped the light up towards his face causing him to flinch as it hit his eyes, the light level far too much and telling him he probably had a concussion. "You're bleeding."

She moved as if to stand, but Bucky shook his head as much as he could. "No. Stay there, I don't know how stable any of this is. You'll be safer under there."

She frowned, but nodded and ducked back underneath with the children who stared at him with wide eyes and tear-streaked faces. She did what she could to reassure them, but was only partially successful, which was more than understandable given the situation.

A wave of helplessness washed over Bucky, an emotion he hadn't experienced in an exceedingly long time. There'd been fleeting moments during his imprisonment by Hydra, when he had clarity and awareness of who he truly was, but never for long. His handlers quickly learned to put him in the machine that erased his memories almost before fully reviving from the effects of another stint in cryo. They would then make certain to use the code phrases before he had any chance at fighting back. Assuring they had their compliant Fist of Hydra awakened and ready to work.

He tried to shake it off, the current situation completely different from that he experienced with Hydra. He'd walked into this in order to save people, the exact opposite of anything he'd done as The Winter Soldier. "Sam."

"Yeah, Buck."

"Do you have an ETA?"

"A couple of hours at least. We've got your location to within six meters, but we're waiting on equipment to arrive. We're doing what we can by hand right now, but there's only so much we can move."

"Okay. Make certain there's EMTs on site. The civvies seem okay, but I'd rather err on the side of caution."

Sam snorted. "This from the man who jumped out of a plane two hundred feet in the air on our first mission."

"Maybe I'm getting wiser in my old age," Bucky groused.

"Maybe you just want to get home to a certain young lady."

"Shit," Bucky swore softly. "Does she know?"

"Yes. It's all over the news and she has texted me."

"Sam…"

"I've told her you're alive. She hasn't asked for anything more."

Because she understood that Sam needed to do the work before consoling and holding hands.

"I'm surprised your phone hasn't been blowing up," Sam stated with a grunt. Most likely aiding the efforts lifting away rubble.

Bucky patted his chest and the inner pocket where he kept his phone when working. The audible crunching sound told him all he needed. "It probably has, but my phone feels like it can bend so…"

Sam barked in laughter. "How are you so damn calm?"

"If I panic, these kids panic and while we're breathing okay now, I have no idea if we're gonna run out of air before you can get to us. Calm keeps us alive."

"Alive is good. Let them know we're going as fast as we can."

"I know, Sam. Doesn't make the waiting any easier."

"I'll keep you updated."

"Works." Bucky passed along what little information he had to the woman, who thanked him and again offered to help make him more comfortable. He explained she couldn't, that he was stuck until the wall behind him could be shifted. Something he would need to make clear to Sam when the rescuers were closer to actually rescuing them. He suggested that she and the kids could nap while they waited as it would help pass the time.

She didn't disagree but gave him a look that clearly said the likelihood of the children becoming calm enough to do that was nigh unto impossible. Instead, she pulled up what sounded like a video of a children's show or movie to distract them for as long as possible.

He could only hope the battery would hold out long enough.

. . .

"You look like shit."

"Then you'll be pleased to know I feel worse," Bucky retorted, voice rough. He sat off to one side, a second bottle of water in hand, while an EMT cleaned up the cut on his forehead. It had bled like most head wounds do, profusely, which meant the entire left side of his uniform jacket and arm had been covered in it. The initial exam had determined a possible concussion, potentially broken ribs, plus assorted cuts, bruises, and scrapes. He had grudgingly agreed to a trip to the local hospital for x-rays, mostly because Sam refused to take no for an answer.

He hurt bad enough that the extra precaution would probably be a good idea. Not that they would be able to do much other than resetting any broken bones which would permit them to heal faster. It took a lot of effort to break his bones and the fact that he may have succeeded made real exactly how much damage had been done to the building. He took a moment to dig his phone out of that inner pocket, confirming it had indeed been smashed beyond any usefulness.

Sam took it from him, removed the case, and popped open the sim card slot. "Sim's still good. Just need to get you a new phone."

"Just put it back in for now. I don't want to lose the damn thing."

Sam did so and held out the phone. Bucky tried to move his left arm, failing utterly and causing his collarbone to scream its unhappiness with the situation. Sam narrowed his eyes. "What's wrong with your arm?"

"No clue. Apparently holding up a building is beyond the planned design specs."

"Can you fix it?"

"That would require me having more than a vague idea of how it works." Bucky sighed heavily knowing there were only so many people on the planet who might be able to fix it aside from those who made it. He doubted most of them would give him the time of day. Hell, he had no idea if the one person he should call would even respond. He'd kept his distance after that last favor as requested, but he didn't really have a choice this time. "Can I borrow your phone?"

Sam nodded. "Sure." He handed over the phone and watched with patience as Bucky keyed in a number and then sent a short text. "Wakanda? That Dora Milaje? What was her name?"

"Ayo and yes. Though I have the feeling there won't be a response." He handed back the phone. "Do not abuse that number," Bucky warned.

"No chance," Sam assured him as he tucked the phone away. "I want to be on good terms with them."

Bucky nodded a wash of exhaustion crashing upon him. "God, I'm tired."

"No sleeping until you get those x-rays done," the medic reminded him in accented, but clear, English. "I've got the bleeding stopped for now. We should have transport ready shortly."

"Thanks," Bucky told him in all due sincerity.

"No, thank you. So many could have died if you, both of you, hadn't risked your lives going into that building."

"We had plenty of help," Sam said with a shake of his head. "We could not have done it without the cooperation of everyone."

The medic grimaced. "Not everyone." He glanced in the direction of the GRC reps who had wisely not fled the scene, but also who had not assisted in the least when the building had begun to collapse. He patted Bucky on the shoulder. "Rest, drink water, and stay awake."

Bucky gave him a nod of acknowledgment then pointedly took a drink of his water. Once the medic was well out of earshot he said, "I will not work for the GRC again."

Sam frowned but didn't argue. "We weren't supposed to be in the first place. I don't know where they got the idea that we were playing guard dog for them came from, but I have made certain to disabuse them of that notion." He ran his hand across his face then sat down next to Bucky and peeled the headpiece back, the goggles down about his neck. "This is what Karli feared would happen and I can't justify it."

"So you're siding with the protestors?" Bucky asked more in curiosity than anything.

"No?" Sam responded, sounding unsure. "I thought we were here to negotiate a solution that would benefit all parties, not forcibly remove them from the only home they've known for half a decade."

"And now no one has use of the building, new owners or old. Since when did the GRC use the 'if I can't have it then no one can' tactic?"

"I don't know," Sam said. "I think there may have been something more going on here, but I'm not certain what. The reps are claiming they did not give the order to fire. The military contingent is saying the opposite."

"So who bought the military?"

Sam stared at him in shock.

"What? It makes the most sense. This wasn't about repatriation, this was about the land the building sat on."

"Are you saying the GRC was used to almost kill civilians? Over a building?"

Bucky shrugged with the one functioning shoulder. "Maybe? Or they're muddying the waters so they can transfer the blame elsewhere. It's not like we get briefed on all the details. Fuck, Sam, we didn't know there'd be local military here. The GRC reps are supposed to be using coalition troops. The whole situation stinks."

Sam frowned deeply. "Is this something we want to look into?" he finally asked.

Bucky thought about it seriously for a few minutes. "I guess it depends on how we look into it and what we do with the information. You came into this not wanting to choose a side, but find a resolution that benefits everyone, right?"

"That was the plan," Sam agreed.

"And now?"

"I don't know," he admitted a touch ruefully. "This is why I agreed with Steve that the Avengers need to be outside the regular chain of command. Good intentions mean nothing if the people running the show can be bought."

"But this," Bucky waved his hand about to encompass the totality of the mess they've found themselves hip-deep in, "isn't our job. We do not have the power to fix this."

"Doesn't mean we shouldn't try," Sam stated though it seemed more to himself than to Bucky. Coming to a decision he sighed softly. "How do we not pick a side though?"

"By walking a very thin tightrope. Start with what are our goals? Push the agenda or save those in need?"

Sam gave him a sour look. "Save those in need, of course."

Bucky nodded. "Exactly. This is going to put a ton of pressure on the GRC from all sides. We, and by that I mean you as I still suck at interviews, need to make it clear we do not represent the GRC, do not want any part of what was done here, while also making it clear we're not part of the Flagsmasher movement."

"Yeah. That tightrope is looking more like a thread there, Buck."

Bucky snorted, regretted it as both his head and ribs protested. "Those civilians we saved today weren't Flagsmashers, they were people who simply didn't want to be forced out of their homes. It's not their fault that they happened to belong to others six years ago. They wanted more than to be dragged out and dumped into camps with little or no hope of having a roof over their heads anytime in the near future. No one fired a weapon. No one threatened to harm anyone. They simply chose to stand their ground and hold out for something better than a tent in an empty stadium with winter coming on."

Sam's eyebrows had slowly risen until nearly meeting his hairline. "Are you sure you don't want to do the interview?"

"Positive. They'd ask me a stupid question and I would tell them exactly why it's so stupid complete with the creative use of f-bombs."

Sam chuckled softly. "Yeah, you would." He got to his feet. "Time to get to work then." He turned towards the group of reporters that had been covering the negotiations live for the world to see and had gotten to witness the destruction first hand. Several members of the GRC were already being interviewed now that the rescue efforts had been completed, while the military contingent secured the perimeter and refused every request for an interview. Which only made the whole situation even more suspicious.

"I'll meet you at the hospital later unless you need me to hold your hand or something."

Bucky glowered, though he didn't really mean it. "You'll need to make arrangements to get us home. I will not fly on the GRC's dime after this."

"Since I'm about to piss off a lot of people, that would probably be a good idea." He set a hand on Bucky's good, if aching, shoulder. "We'll figure this out."

"But will it be before others die?"

"I hope so," Sam answered. "Even we can't be in more than one place at a time."

"I'll have to work on that," Bucky stated, then groaned softly as he leaned back against the wall in an attempt to get more comfortable only to discover he must have bruises on his back as well. He could see the hesitation on Sam's face. "Go. I'll be fine."

"If you're sure?"

"Yes. Besides, if you don't go to them they'll be coming to you from the looks of it."

Sam turned to see a couple of the reporters and their cameramen glancing their way and clearly contemplating the merits of making their way over for an interview. "I'll make sure they get your good side, Buck."

"That'll play well on TV. The bloody and broken Winter Soldier being treated as a hero after destroying the building."

"They won't think that."

"Some will. Some always will. Even with proof otherwise staring them in the face. If I'm the bad guy, the GRC can't be."

Sam froze as he realized the story could easily be spun that way. "Then I guess it's time for Captain America to set the record straight." As he walked away he tapped on the screen in the wrist of his uniform. "Redwing, upload all the video collected to the server and alert Nienna to prepare it for release."

Bucky grinned at that. The raw video would provide a completely different perspective to whatever tale the GRC and the military would tell and he and Sam might just be able to get ahead of the misinformation campaign that had certainly already begun.

He'd deal with the aftermath after. Right now he wanted a nap that he shouldn't take thanks to the knock to his head, and reassurance they'd done the right thing. Though, he supposed, saving people could never be the wrong thing.

He hadn't planned on being a hero, but maybe, just maybe, the time had come to embrace it.

. . . . .

Nienna flung the apartment door open hard enough that it hit the stopper then began to slide back closed causing Bucky to chuckle at her enthusiasm. He had a key for both her home and the office for two different yet related reasons and he'd been about to dig the one for her apartment door out of his pocket when she'd done her fling.

She stopped dead, staring at him. "Holy shit, Buck."

He sighed. "That bad, huh?"

She nodded, reached out for the go-bag he had in his hand, which he fought for possession of only momentarily before letting her win as it was obvious she would not take no for an answer. Then she ducked under his right arm and assisted him in walking into her apartment. She dropped the bag next to the sofa and encouraged him to sit.

This time he resisted for real. "Doll, if I sit I ain't getting back up anytime soon."

She shifted in front of him and looked him over with a gimlet eye. She proceeded to do the last thing he expected and wrap him up in the gentlest hug he'd ever received, tucking her head up against the side of his neck and simply standing there shaking. He reciprocated by curling his right arm about her back and pulling her in close.

Yeah, it hurt, but having her back in his arms was more than worth the discomfort. "I'm okay," he assured her. "I'll heal."

"I know," she agreed, words muffled. "Doesn't mean I want to see you like this." She leaned back then kissed him tenderly on the lips.

"Risks of the job, Ni."

She cupped his less injured cheek in her hand. "Was it worth it?"

"Nobody in that building died, so yes, it was worth it." He knew she'd been worried, her texts to Sam had made that clear, Bucky just had no idea how to handle someone caring about his well-being. Okay, not entirely true, Sarah and the boys had been just as worried and had insisted on video calls to verify his status as still among the living. In fact, Sarah had been the one to insist he head back to Brooklyn to heal up instead of the usual post-mission trip to Delacroix.

Nienna, once verifying he'd survived his ordeal, had left him mostly alone, he suspected due more to being overly worried and not wanting to stress him more than necessary with her concerns while he healed. When she'd tentatively offered her place to crash at until he felt better he'd agreed instantly. He wanted to assure her he was all right, and more to the point to see her and permit her the time she needed to truly understand how dangerous his job as a superhero could be.

If ever there was a time to let her walk away it would be now. If she couldn't handle the downside there might not be a future in this still startlingly new relationship.

"Okay." She stepped back and wrapped her hand about his right one. "What's wrong with your left arm?"

"Good fucking question," he muttered. "Shorted out or something when a wall landed on it."

She blinked, quite obviously thought about saying something, and just as abruptly changed her mind. "You have spare clothes in that bag?"

He nodded, they hadn't quite reached the point of leaving a set of clothes at each other's places, but he suspected after this he'd earn himself a drawer at the very least. "I can't attest to cleanliness, but yeah."

"Good." She tucked herself under his right arm again. "C'mon you, let's get you fixed up."

He resisted moving. "The docs cleared me once they confirmed I didn't have a concussion. The broken ribs will heal in a few days, the bruises will fade. My arm... I've made a call." He shrugged his good arm. "Aside from rest, there's not much anyone can do."

"Then you will rest," she told him. "Trust me?"

He turned his head to meet her eyes. "Always."

She encouraged him into motion taking him through her bedroom and into the en suite. "How do you feel about baths?"

"Indifferent," he replied. "Why?"

"Well, I imagine you are sore as fuck, and while hot showers are adequate to loosen tight muscles, a long soak with fancy Epsom salts, peaceful music, and a glass or three of wine are far more effective. And this tub is literally designed for it."

"Doll, I'm willing to try anything if you think it'll help. Painkillers don't really work effectively for me."

"My only concern is for your arm. Immersing it won't do more damage, will it?"

He glanced down at the arm in question. "I don't know." And he didn't. Water in any form had never affected it before. Showers, rain, swimming, none of it had seemed to have any effect upon how it worked. But between the beating he'd taken by John Walker and now this, he had concerns the damage might be permanent, and given the lack of response to his short message to Ayo, he suspected he might be stuck figuring it out for himself. "It's already not working so I doubt it can get much worse."

Ni snickered. "Point." She slipped away from him to set up the bath. Old school rubber stopper in place, faucets twisted and steaming quickly which confirmed the efficiency of the hot water tank in her possession. She sprinkled in a generous amount of salts from a jar she kept on the nearby shelf then turned to him. "Need help?"

"Need? No, I can manage, but I won't stop you either." He used his right hand to slide the leather jacket off his left arm.

She moved to assist, taking the jacket and tossing it across the bench before her vanity. "You think you have a choice, so cute."

He gave her a wan smile that morphed into an unexpected moan as they worked together to get his t-shirt up and off of him. "Sorry," he muttered.

"For what? You're in pain, you are allowed to express it by any means you feel necessary. Though I'd rather you not lash out with fists or the like, then we'd both be in need of that hot bath."

He raised an eyebrow, not at all hating the idea of sharing that tub with her. "Not today, doll. I am definitely not in any shape for it."

She grinned as she tossed the shirt aside to join the jacket. She took a moment to look over the quite noticeable bruising visible on the skin of his torso. Her gaze ended on his drooping left shoulder. "Does it hurt?" she asked in a soft voice.

"It doesn't feel anything at the moment," he responded, somewhat confused at her question given he'd told her the arm was dead as a brick at the moment.

She met his eyes with a confused look on her face. "Not the arm itself, the... where it connects." She then ducked her head and looked away as if embarrassed. "Never mind," she mumbled, "you don't have to answer that."

He grasped her chin with his right hand and encouraged her to look at him directly. "You can always ask." He let go as her hands shifted to his jeans and began to unbuckle the belt. "It always hurts, but not as much with this new arm. Least not when it's working properly."

She shoved his pants down and followed along so as to unlace and remove his boots. He set a hand on her shoulder for balance as he shifted his weight as the various bits of clothing were removed. Within moments he stood before her buck naked aside from his dog tags. When she stood, arms full of his clothes, she asked, "They can't fix that?"

"I don't know, actually. It never really came up in Wakanda."

"Ah, I was wondering about that." She made her way back the few steps to his side to assist him in maintaining his balance as he stepped over the lip of the tub. He sat slowly, the water hot even for him, the steam a pleasant combination of bergamot and lavender that he hadn't expected. The water barely came up to his waist as of yet, but would easily cover his chest once full.

"I thought the whole world knew it was Wakandan make."

"The whole world- the parts that have any interest that is - probably assume it's Wakandan, but they don't actually know." She moved and picked up a tray clearly designed to hang on the lip of the tub and set it into place. "So, you have white wine, and a waterproof tablet with hundreds of books to choose from."

"Okay."

"Start bathtime music."

The smart home device on her vanity chirped and relaxing music perfect for some quiet meditation time began to play. He didn't need it but appreciated the effort she'd put in to make certain he would relax and permit the bath to do its job. "You didn't need to go to all this trouble."

"Yes, I did. Tub should be full shortly. Just turn it off when you want. I'll check on you in a bit." She leaned over to kiss him on the forehead, before grabbing his two-day-old clothes and marching out of the room with them. He fully suspected they would be heading straight for her washing machine.

As the water rose and hit upon scrapes and cuts it burned, the salt doing its best to remind him that not only was he old, but broken and tired as fuck right now. He grabbed the open bottle of wine, slick with condensation, ignored the glass, and drank down nearly a third of it before coming up for air. Not quite what she'd intended, he imagined, but got the job done. He then dried his hand off with the towel draped over the edge of the tray and picked up the tablet to peruse the selections there.

She had clearly catered the choices to his taste and included this month's book club selection which he had yet to begin so he tapped that one and settled in to read.

He had gotten good and lost in the story when she reappeared carrying a bottle of water for him. He set down the tablet and accepted the bottle from her. She dragged the vanity stool over and sat down on it. "Hey."

"Hey," he echoed, realizing the water had cooled enough that he either needed to add more or get out.

"Your clothes are in the dryer, the uniform jacket is hung up to air out with the worst of the stains removed, I have a chicken slow roasting in the oven because you are staying here until you can walk without groaning in pain," Bucky snickered, "and... how are you feeling?"

Bucky sat up and leaned forward to pull the plug and allow the water to begin draining. His ribs still yelled at him, but nothing like earlier. Yeah, he'd heal just fine on his own, but he'd never really considered helping it along, instead choosing to suffer through the pain as if he deserved to.

Maybe once upon a time he had, but he'd slowly begun to believe he might be worth more than that.

"Better. Thank you."

"Anytime," she assured him.

He planted his right arm on the edge of the tub and pushed upright until standing. As he stepped out she magically appeared with a bath sheet, which she proceeded to wrap around him.

"Do you want me to clean and bandage the scrapes?"

"Are they bleeding?"

She gestured for him to rotate, hands touching with care on all the visible wounds. "No."

"Then I'll be fine, doll." He reached up, curved his hand around the back of her neck, and pulled her in for a kiss. "You are why I'm going to be fine."

She leaned into him for a few moments. "I think it's your stubbornness with an assist from the serum running through your veins, but if you want me to take all the credit I will."

Bucky snorted. "Okay, so those may have helped some. But to be clear I very much wanted to get back here to you."

"Me? I'm nobody," she stated in a self-deprecating tone.

"That is the furthest thing from the truth and you damn well know it." And not just to him he knew for certain. "Now, what am I supposed to do for clothes?"

"Do you need them?" she asked with a sly smile.

He huffed out a breath. "Darlin' no matter how much I may want to, all I'm fit for is Netflix and cuddle. I hurt."

She laughed softly. "I can live with that." She stepped away from him, going to her closet and returning with the fluffiest bathrobe he'd ever seen. She helped him into the dark blue slice of heaven and tied it snugly about his waist. "Will this do?"

It fit him perfectly and would have been monstrously huge on her. "You bought this for me."

"And if I did?"

He kissed her on the temple. "If I didn't know any better I'd think you want me to stay over more often."

"Well, I did order this fancy new mattress so that someone could adjust to sleeping in a real bed so..."

"You didn't."

She shrugged. "I want you to feel comfortable when you're here."

"What about when we're at my place," he questioned facetiously.

Much to his surprise, she answered with, "That's why I bought two. It should be delivered by the end of the week."

Bucky stared at her for a long moment. "What?"

She narrowed her eyes. "You sure you don't have a concussion?"

"I'm starting to think you might."

She shook her head. "Sofa. You look like shit."

"Well, I feel like shit so..." Still he followed her out to the living area and permitted her to get him all comfy on the couch, brought him a drink and snacks then just stood there watching him for several minutes until he began to wonder what he'd done wrong. "What's up?"

"Does it come off?"

"Um, could you be a bit more specific?"

She blinked. "What? The arm, of course. I presume they put it on at some point, which would mean it should come off for, like, repairs and diagnostics and such. Right?"

Given he knew with certainty that it did indeed come off, since that little incident he had often wondered why he hadn't come to that realization all on his own. Granted the one Hydra had gifted him hadn't really been designed to. Various panels could be pried open for repairs and upgrades, but the arm itself could not be removed without damaging it. "Yes actually, though I only learned about it recently."

One eyebrow rose in what could only be a question so he gave her a quick explanation as to how it had occurred. "Yes, the arm had been attached, but not until right before the big battle in Wakanda, then I spent five years erased from reality, so I didn't really have a lot of time to read the user manual."

She snickered and sat down on the sofa facing him. "And you haven't tried to take it off yourself?"

He shook his head. Part of him had been absolutely terrified of doing exactly that and discovering being unable to put it back on, even though he'd had no issues doing so in Latvia. "I haven't needed to."

"May I try? It might help with the discomfort you're feeling."

"Do you really think you can get it working again?" Not that he doubted her skills at all, but Wakanda still didn't advertise how any of their tech really worked. They shared some, but never supplied the details even though without a source of Vibranium most of their tech wouldn't work. "I don't even know what powers it."

"Oh Vibranium most likely, but if the power source is damaged that could be why it's nonfunctional."

"Could just be a blown fuse," he countered.

"Yep, it could be," she agreed. "If you don't want me to look at it, I won't."

"It's not that." He shook his head. "I sent a message, but I haven't heard back."

"Isn't your phone dead?"

"Extremely. Sam saved the sim card, but I haven't had the chance to pick up a new one."

She hung her head. "And yet you expected them to text you back?"

Bucky had really hoped someone would just show up, but Ni had a point. As of right now, the only person they could respond to was Sam, and while they had made that suit for him, they didn't have a relationship with him. "Maybe I do have a concussion," he muttered. "I'm stupidly tired, Ni."

"Then let me help you get comfortable so you can nap."

He took a few short seconds to think about it. "Okay."

She slipped the sleeve of the robe off the useless arm. "Describe what she did to remove it again."

"Uh, point of a spear, then her fingers twice in this area." He ran his fingers over the section of his shoulder. "I don't have full sensitivity in this part of my arm."

"We know you are definitely sensitive enough in the hand," Ni stated, with a surprisingly serious tone.

"What do you mean- Oh." He ducked his head as his cheeks reddened much to his dismay.

She laughed softly. "I'm sure you're just as talented one-handed."

"You have no idea," he told her in a weary voice.

Her hands traced along the edge where he knew the two parts of the shoulder met. "I'm looking forward to finding out. If you can keep buildings from falling on top of you that is."

He fully understood she was giving him an opportunity to discuss what had happened, but he wasn't quite ready to. Mostly out of exhaustion. "Not now, doll, okay?"

"Of course," she assured him. "I think I've got it."

She did something he couldn't actually feel, but the weight tugging on the side of his neck suddenly vanished followed by a thud on the floor. He utterly failed to keep from expressing his relief with a groan.

"Can you shift your shoulder? Roll it maybe?"

He tried to do that, but he still had no real feeling in the area. He could tell the muscles in his chest and upper back were tensing and attempting to do their jobs but had no clue if the actual shoulder had moved. "I think I'm broken."

She patted him on the knee. "S'okay, I knew that going into this. Besides, I'm more than a bit broken too." She gestured at his shoulder. "May I?"

"Sure?" He had no idea what she planned.

She planted a hand on either side of the prosthetic and forced it to move, rotating it up and back into a more normal position. They could both hear an odd grinding as she did so, the mechanical joint not happy at her manipulation. "Hurts?"

"No. Just feels weird."

"Weird how?" She rotated it back towards the front, it still would not move easily.

"Like the gears are offset."

She looked at him. "What?"

"Yes, I know there's no gears in there, just the best analogy I could come up with."

"Does it have a ball joint like a regular shoulder?"

"I honestly don't know."

She frowned. "Okay. Presuming it does, it might be out of alignment, and that's what you're feeling as I move it."

"I dislocated my shoulder? My cybernetic shoulder?"

"Without opening it up, which I have no intention of doing, that seems to be the only answer that makes sense. What happened? If you can talk about it, that is?"

He could hear Sam's voice in his head reminding him that their government work was classified all to hell and that Bucky would get into some serious trouble for talking about it to a civvie. But he wanted to. To tell her all the sordid and upsetting details and share his utter disdain for what the GRC had become in the last few months. To vent his anger and disappointment to someone who might understand.

At his obvious indecision, she said, "Sam sent me all of Redwing's video to process and I've seen the news reports and more than a few videos that haven't been released to the public for seriously damning reasons. I have a good idea of what actually happened, so I'm not asking you to reveal state secrets here, just need to know, if only in some general way, what might have caused the damage to an arm that should be nearly indestructible."

He nodded slowly, reaching out to set fingers against her cheek. "I know, darlin', I just- It's honestly still a bit fuzzy, but I know I ended up with a rather solid wall wedging that arm between it and a concrete staircase. There were civilians underneath the stairwell that I had apparently been protecting. I ended up stuck there until the rescue teams got to us."

"And I'm sure you had them get the civilians first."

He nodded. "Of course."

"My hero." She gave him a hesitant smile with the words. "Was the weight on the front or the back of the arm?"

"Back."

"And for how long?"

"You would know better than me. I... I got hit in the head too. All I know is that it took them a couple of hours to stabilize the area and get to us."

She let go of his shoulder to wrap both hands about his. "Not much longer than that. You lost less than an hour of time between the collapse and your rescue."

It was then Bucky realized she'd watched the entire incident unfold on TV. She'd seen the GRC troops fire on the civilians in that building, watched as they'd done nothing to assist in rescue efforts, done nothing but insist they'd had no choice. "Nienna, I feel like I should apologize to you."

"No. Never. You and Sam went against the GRC's direct orders and saved all those people. Did I maybe freak out a little when that building went down with you still inside? Yes. But there was nothing I could do but wait and watch and hope." She lifted his hand and kissed his fingers. "Thank god you're okay."

"I wouldn't go that far, but I'm alive and will heal." He tried to be reassuring but could still see worry buried deep in her eyes. He pulled their hands to his chest. "I want to tell you it'll never happen again, but I can't. This is part of the job."

"I know. This isn't the first time you've come back from a job with Sam with bruises and scrapes, but it is the first broadcast live for all the world to see." She took a moment to let her real emotions be visible and he could not help but be touched by them, that she worried about him, for him, and wanted him to be safe and come home. Maybe even come home to her. Then she sniffled and straightened. Packing away the more volatile emotions for the moment. She gave his hand a squeeze. "Let's see if we can get this shoulder in a more comfortable position for you."

He didn't like that she seemed to be deflecting her emotions, he expected her to be far more upset than she appeared, but he also didn't want to push her into saying something she might not be prepared to. So he simply nodded for her to go ahead.

She moved her hands back to the shoulder, spent a few minutes rotating it until she ascertained the location of the misalignment, and pushed. There was a momentary grinding noise followed by a pop more felt than heard, then an odd sensation of release. He turned his head to see the golden striations glow blue for an instant, shift wide and narrow, before settling back into their neutral position. "Well, that seems to have accomplished something."

"Give me the arm." He hoped that much like in Riga it would simply reconnect and work again. Ni leaned over, picked it up, and handed it to him. He grasped it by the forearm and held it before the shoulder joint expecting the entire arm to light up as it had done the last time, but nothing happened, the arm remaining nothing but inert high-tech metal. "Shit." He had the sudden urge to fling the dead arm across the room.

Ni seemed to recognize the impulse and gently prized the arm out of his grip and set it on the coffee table. "I take it that something was supposed to happen."

"Yeah," he responded gruffly. "Fuck."

She frowned at him. "Bucky, I can take a look at it if you want."

"Might as well," he grumbled, "just don't break it." He laughed then, harsh, bitter laughter, his hand balling into a fist, though he resisted the urge to punch the sofa cushion as he would probably bust right through it. He doubted Ni would appreciate him damaging her furniture when all she wanted to do was help him.

She set her hand over his fist. "Hey. It'll be okay."

He yanked his hand away. "How do you figure that?"

Ni didn't react beyond a slight widening of her eyes. "James-" She shook her head. "You're exhausted." She adjusted the robe so that it once again covered the stub of his shoulder. Then she leaned forward until her forehead pressed into his chest. "Thank you for coming home," she whispered in a tiny voice that would have been barely audible to anyone else.

"Doll-" He wrapped his arm around her and held on tight for a few moments. "Same." He kissed the top of her head. "Same."

. . .

He twitched back into consciousness at the sound of her door buzzer. Cracking his eyes open he saw bright sunlight still outside the apartment windows, which told him not all that much time had passed since his eyes had fallen shut. Music still played, but Nienna no longer sat on the floor between the couch and the coffee table where she'd been tinkering with his arm.

The buzzer went off again followed by footsteps headed towards the door.

"Ni?" he asked, still groggy from the nap.

"Can I help you?" Ni asked of whoever was on the far side of the door.

"I am here for James," came the accented response, an accent he recognized though not the voice.

He sat up and looked over at Ni, who had turned back to him. "I think there's a Dora Milaje at my door."

"I think you're right." He got up and joined her at the door to see exactly who stood on the other side via the monitor mounted next to it. Recognizing Yama on the screen he said. "I know her."

Ni didn't question him, unlocked the door, and slid it open. Yama stood there in street clothes, expensive stylish street clothes instead of the armor he'd last seen her in at the Sokovian Memorial. "Come in."

Yama did so with a look that implied that she would have done so whether or not the door had ever been opened. Behind her came Ayo, much to his surprise.

Yama looked over the room as if she'd walked into enemy territory while Ayo kept her eye on Ni who did nothing more than close and lock the door before adjusting the security system to account for the visitors.

"Ayo, I didn't expect to see you." He nodded to Yama to make certain he included her. "Either of you."

"We happened to be at a meeting at the UN and could spare a few minutes to deal with your problem," she explained tone curt as she continued to eye Nienna with suspicion.

"Ayo, Yama, this is my friend Nienna Gr-"

"We know who she is," Ayo stated sharply. Her eyes flicked to the prosthetic arm sitting on the island with assorted wires trailing from it to a laptop. Several windows of scrolling code were visible on the screen. Then Ayo turned that dark gaze upon Nienna who didn't even bat an eye.

"Can I get you something to drink? A snack? You're welcome to stay for dinner, I cooked more than enough."

That seemed to throw Ayo off her game, while Yama smiled hopefully, turning to Ayo as if asking for permission. "We have a limited amount of time to assist." She turned her focus on Bucky, a sneer on her lips as she said, "Could you not find any clothes?"

Bucky sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah. Gimme a couple of minutes." He gave Ni a nod in hopes of assuring her she would be fine without him playing guard dog from the two grouchy Dora Milaje. Then to Ayo in Wakandan. "Don't break her. I like her."

Ayo snorted in derision and responded in kind. "If she breaks you shouldn't bother."

"I don't break easily," Ni commented, also in Wakandan much to everyone's surprise. She headed into the kitchen, grabbing glasses from a cabinet as if she hadn't just dropped a bombshell on the entire room.

"You speak Wakandan?" Yama asked, both her eyebrows high on her forehead.

"Some," Ni told her as she opened the fridge and grabbed the pitcher of filtered water. Then switched back to English. "I understand almost fluently." She poured a glass and held it out for the younger Wakandan to take.

Yama took the glass with a nod of thanks. "Why?" she asked, this time in English.

Ni shrugged. "It's always good business to know who you're working with."

Bucky chuckled, earning yet another glare from Ayo. She may have shown up but he clearly hadn't been let off the hook for Zemo quite yet. He hustled over towards the laundry room near the second bathroom and pulled open the dryer. The clothes still held warmth to them, so they'd finished not all that long ago. He pulled out what he needed and carried them into the nearby bathroom to change.

He could hear Yama and Ni talking in a mix of Wakandan and English. Mostly about Ni's business dealings that led her to learn the somewhat obscure language. He pulled the pants over his briefs with a grimace of irritation. He'd never expected to have to dress one-handed ever again. He had no issues, easily remembering the necessary steps, but he frowned the entire time. As he pulled his shirt over his head he pondered the possibility that the arm might not be repairable and that Shuri would not be willing or able to replace it. Could he live his life with one arm? Of course. Did he want to?

He currently did not have an answer to that.

A few months ago he would have said yes, would have been happy to live out his life in relative obscurity for however many years he might have left to him.

But then he'd teamed up with Sam, finding a new purpose in his life no matter how tired he had become of fighting seemingly impossible battles. And then he'd met Nienna, who, even he had to admit, probably wouldn't care if he only had one arm, so why did he fear he would disappoint her if the arm couldn't be fixed.

"James, what are you doing here?" Ayo still spoke in Wakandan even though she now knew Ni, had she been eavesdropping would understand. Given Yama currently ran interference, which Ni had certainly figured out, his and Ayo's conversation would remain relatively private.

Still pulling on the t-shirt he stepped out of the bathroom to find Ayo standing right outside glaring at him with a look of impatience. "Getting dressed, as you... requested," he replied with irritation in his voice.

Ayo huffed out a breath and resisted the urge to hit him. "You have given a total stranger access to Wakandan technology. You have no idea what she might do with it."

"Yes, I do." Bucky's eyes narrowed. "As do you else you would have disconnected it from her computer the moment you stepped in the door."

She tipped her head slightly. "Your acceptance in Wakanda does not grant you permission to share our technology with others."

Bucky couldn't and more wouldn't argue that point. "Tell me what other choice I had. I reached out, not expecting any response, and she offered to try. Yes, I can live without the arm if necessary, but I don't want to. If you are under orders to take it I'll understand, just don't place any blame on Nienna. She only wanted to help me."

"Is that why you are here? Just for help?" Ayo sneered the last as if disappointed he would need it.

Bucky shook his head and scowled. "You know why I'm here. Would you rather I'd gone to Sam's contact in the US military to do the repairs?"

The look of disgust on her face was answer enough. "You should not have-"

Yama came around the corner then, a look of concern on her face. "Ayo, the situation is not his fault." She gestured at Bucky. "He has done as requested and only reached out because he did not have time to learn what he needed before returning here."

Ayo swung her heavy gaze on her partner. "Perhaps I am attempting to teach him a different lesson now."

Yama failed to flinch at the harsh tone. "We have been told to assist, have we not?"

Ayo appeared to be ready to spit nails or whatever the Wakanda equivalent might be, but Bucky held his tongue not wanting to break the fragile truce that had been achieved. He knew he'd fucked up, good reason or not, but had hoped to earn back the Wakandans trust through the actions he'd taken and the choices he'd made since. How could he have known they'd be aware of never mind worried about Nienna being in his life.

"You are correct." Ayo strode away, heels clicking loudly on the wood flooring.

Yama turned to Bucky and switched to English. "She is still angry over Zemo."

"I kind of got that feeling." He trailed after with Yama by his side to see Ayo standing across the kitchen island from Nienna. Food had been put out. Assorted fresh vegetables and what smelled like her garlic hummus. Someone, most likely Yama, had already enjoyed some.

"Let us see how much damage you have done."

Bucky moved to stand beside Ni, while Ayo removed a Kimoyo bead from her wrist and set it in her palm. Blue light emanated from the bead and scanned not only his arm but also the computer it had been attached to. Once complete she took a moment to look over the data revealed then raised her gaze to look at Ni. "What have you done?"

"Nothing, actually. The arm is currently non-functional, possibly from a short, so I'm looking through the code in order to determine if it is a programming issue or a mechanical one." She placed her hands on the counter. "There is currently no power in the arm itself so I'm running a minimal amount into it to be able to access the programming." She turned to gesture at Bucky. "The implanted section appears to be functional now - the shoulder joint had been dislocated but we were able to reset it - but it is not talking to the rest. And that is all I know."

"And how was it damaged?" Yama asked in what appeared to be genuine curiosity.

Bucky and Ni exchanged a glance. "Uh, a building fell on him? What? Three days ago now?"

Ayo did not appear to find this information useful. "You were supposed to be on a peacekeeping mission with the GRC."

That told Bucky two things: one that Ayo and perhaps the rest of the Dora Milaje had been keeping tabs on him since the incident with Zemo if not longer, and two that information was not complete. They no longer fully trusted him but had obviously presumed that when under the influence of the new Captain America that he would be on his best behavior.

Which was stupid given he'd been with Sam when the whole Zemo/Walker mess had occurred.

Still, Sam's influence had indeed caused Bucky to make some changes. Sam, Sarah, Ni had all encouraged him to turn away from his darker side and stay away from those contacts he had that were less savory in nature.

"GRC troops fired on a building full of unarmed protestors, all civilians when they wouldn't vacate. Bucky and Sam saved them against orders," Ni explained without sounding condescending somehow. Bucky wasn't certain he could have managed that.

Yama responded. "We've been in meetings all week and not been made aware."

"That's because they've tried to cover it up after it broadcast live," Ni told them, tensing at the memory. "Luckily everyone has a camera on them these days and even after they cut the broadcast feed, videos were posted all over the 'net."

Yama, who'd been doing something with her beads, reached forward so Ayo could see the video she'd discovered.

"Bast, damn them," Ayo muttered under her breath. "That explains why their tactics changed." Then she pulled a bead off her wrist and set it against the inert arm. The bead flashed with a bluish light and the arm reacted, the interlocking segments shifting and moving so that golden interior sections could be seen. Once it completed its reboot she removed the bead and looked right at Ni. "You should be able to complete a diagnostic now." Then she moved to the computer, tapped the keys for several minutes before stepping back. "You have been granted full access. Do not abuse the privilege."

"Thank you, Ayo," Bucky said.

"You are welcome, James. We must go and deal with this poor decision made by the GRC."

Ni swiftly moved to disarm the security system and open the door for them.

"May I suggest you replace your phone at your earliest convenience?" Ayo tried not to sound as if it were an order.

Bucky sighed heavily. "Yeah, hasn't exactly been a top priority."

Ayo nodded. "Of course, but you may be needed. I would rather not surprise your... friend again with an unexpected visit."

Ni snorted. "If you are in need of my assistance, in any manner, do not hesitate to contact me, including stopping by."

Ayo gave her a nod of respect and walked through the door followed by Yama who munched on a carrot stick slathered in hummus.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Miss Grace."

"Most welcome, Yama," Ni replied in Wakandan.

Yama grinned and followed after Ayo, headed for the elevator.

Ni closed and locked the door, reset the alarm then leaned back against the cool metal with her eyes wide. "Well, that was most unexpected."

"Yeah, sorry. Ayo can be a bit protective." He picked up a slice of cucumber, dragged it through the hummus, and popped it into his mouth. "You have got to teach me this recipe."

"Anytime. Winter's almost here, we'll be stuck inside. Plenty of time to teach you whatever you like." She moved about the island to the computer to see what Ayo had unlocked for her. "Yama gave me her number. I suspect we'll be texting often. She's funny as hell."

Bucky's eyebrows went up at that. Those who earned the rank of Dora Milaje took their jobs very seriously. Granted he knew most of them only in passing and had worked almost exclusively with Ayo and Okoye aside from Princess Shuri. They'd understandably kept him somewhat isolated from the general population, though they'd never restricted his movements when he wanted to explore the country. He'd spent quite a bit of time with the science division because of the modifications needed for his arm, but once officially cleared of the Hydra programming had been granted full freedom to do as he pleased. What had pleased him was learning all he could about the country and his tech, which Shuri had encouraged.

He'd only met Yama a few times, the most recent of which had been that mess involving Zemo and Walker, so he had no idea what her personality might be like beyond Wakandan warrior.

Ni must have seen the look of utter confusion on his face.

"What? We chatted while Ayo admonished you." She tapped a few keys, pulled up a stool, and sat down clearly intrigued at what Ayo had given her access to you. "Oh my, there's all sorts of fun toys in here."

"Really? Like what?" The vibranium arm had always been far stronger than his enhanced human one, much like the Hydra-created one. Had he suspected there could be more to the arm than he'd been told? Of course, but five years of being almost but not quite dead had led to him not caring beyond the fact that he had an arm.

Yes, he could just have asked someone, he supposed, but even though eight months had passed between the battle and him running into Sam, those months had been insanely busy. Between rebuilding the Quantum Tunnel so that Steve could return the stones and Mjolnir to the places they'd been taken from, going before the mostly military international committee to be cleared of the crimes he'd committed as The Winter Soldier, which had included a long and stressful debriefing that had lasted several weeks, to finding a place to live in Brooklyn once pardoned he had had extraordinarily little time to himself. Steve and Sam had stayed by his side, reassuring him he'd be exonerated, until Steve had left, then returned after spending a lifetime doing no more than living it, and then disappeared.

Not even Bucky, who had some serious skills, could track him down. Those crazy rumors of Steve living on a secret base on the moon not all that fanciful in the light that no one had any idea where he'd gone. Did Bucky believe Steve had died? No. Did he expect to see him ever again? Also no.

Probably a good thing he'd reconnected with Sam then. God knew what Bucky might have done if left to his own devices. Hell, he'd probably still be seeing that shitty shrink who seemed to think not hurting people would be the second most important thing he could do.

Ni watched him as he munched on fresh veggies and fresher hummus and drank the beer she kept on hand just for him even knowing he in no way could ever get a buzz from it. "How are you feeling?" she asked instead of answering his question.

He took a moment to assess his current physical state. "Headache is mostly gone. Ribs will hurt for a while yet and based on the quick look I took in the mirror I look like shit."

She nodded in agreement. "The bruising is most impressive." She tapped a few keys. "I'm running a full diagnostic now, but so far everything appears to be working normally. You may not get the arm back until tomorrow if that's okay?" She sounded guilty, worried he'd be mad at her for taking the proper time to make certain it functioned normally.

"Doll, I'll be fine. I went most of a year without it, I think I can manage a couple of days."

"Okay, but you weren't beat all to hell the last time. I think." She shook her head. "I really need to learn to not make assumptions about your past."

"You probably know more about my past, my real past, that is, than I do." He tapped his temple. "The memories can still be a bit jumbled some days."

"You're working on that. What did you do in Wakanda before the battle?"

He knew she wouldn't be upset if he demurred, he'd done so for other questions he had not been prepared to answer, the memories still too painful to revisit even though every day he continued to get better. This time, however, he had no issues saying, "A goat farmer."

She blinked then stared at him before laughing softly. "Really?"

He nodded. "I mean there were a lot of other things I did with Shuri, and Ayo among others, but to keep busy, I raised goats and lived in a hut outside the capitol." He shrugged. "Gave me plenty of time to think and work through some of what I'd been through. Steve visited when he could, but given he was on the run at the time, didn't want to risk revealing my location."

"Didn't King T'Challa know? He must have if Princess Shuri was with you."

"He did. In fact, he was the one who offered to help me." He sighed softly. While Steve had never been happy about Bucky choosing to go back into cryo, it had turned out the best for everyone involved. He hadn't even been in for all that long before Shuri had figured out how to undo the programming that turned him into a killer and give his mind the opportunity to heal. "Why are you asking? If Ayo has approved of you working on the arm that means those above her have as well."

Ni's expression turned only slightly sour. "I got the impression that they had researched me mostly thoroughly prior to arriving on my doorstep, and I don't mean on the way here. They knew you and I have been involved. Ayo seemed to have some concerns, whereas Yama did not."

"Ayo is still upset with me. She would not have given you access if she had any concerns about you and your integrity."

"Okay. I just don't want to have a surprise visit in the night when I tell you your arm is more than an arm."

Bucky raised an eyebrow at that. "What are you talking about?"

"If I'm reading this correctly it had been set in a training mode of sorts and she just gave me the freedom to unlock its full capabilities."

Bucky set down his beer and shifted around the counter, slid another stool closer, and settled down on it so that he too could read the information she had been granted permission to see. "Like what? I'm not sure what I'm seeing here."

"You know how the Black Panther suit worn by T'Challa collects and redistributes energy via kinetic blasts?"

Bucky nodded. He knew quite a bit about that, more than Ni would suspect. "Yes."

"Well, this bit of code here, unlocks your arm's ability to do the same."

"Uh, what?"

"Yeah. You can also convert it to a localized EMP-like blast that will knock out electronics. Nothing huge like a massive server room, but mine? Definitely. If you were to small scale it, it could even permit you to access systems, overriding passwords and such."

He hated repeating himself, but said, "Uh what?" yet again.

She chuckled. "Imagine being able to increase the force of a punch by a factor of ten or more simply because you took a punch or two to the arm, or bullets, converting that impact energy to output." She turned to him, eyes shining with an idea. "Imagine if I could upgrade Sam's shield to do that. All the energy absorbed from gunfire turned into a blast that could take out dozens of antagonists, or generate a larger energy shield to protect innocents."

Since the latter could have been extremely useful this last mission he asked. "Can my arm do that?"

Her head snapped back to the code and she tapped a bunch of keys. "Not currently, but I could probably modify it to do so. The energy projectors themselves wouldn't need modification, just direction."

"Can you actually do that?"

"I would need to do some research to acquire the proper parameters, but yes. With your permission, I'll copy the code and run simulations on my system - under massive firewalls and encryptions of course. This would not be for sharing."

"Except maybe with Sam."

She nodded in agreement.

"Could you really modify the shield?"

"Probably. Might require adding a layer of nanotech to carry the modifications, which I don't currently have access to, but yeah. Is Sam's suit Wakandan?"

Bucky nodded. "It's not nanotech, just vibranium infused cloth so it doesn't function like a Black Panther suit or one of Stark's nano armor suits."

"But it could with vibranium infused nanotech."

"Wait. Are you offering to be our tech person?"

She thought about her answer before responding, "I guess I am." She tapped him on the tip of the nose. "Now would be time to start finding sponsors and generating money. I adore both of you, but I won't do something like this for free. I'm not that well off."

"Understood. Are you willing to work on ideas so I can get Sam on board with it while I work on the money side of it?"

She nodded. "You know I have fun working on this kind of stuff. But what I need to know right now is if you want me to turn on the secondary programming. You'll need to practice controlling it so you don't blow shit up accidentally, but I doubt it will take you all that long."

"Do it. I know a couple of places I'll be able to practice till I have it down."

"You should let Sam know, see what happens when combining the shield with the power release. I know Captain Rogers and Thor used to combine their weapons for spectacular results."

"You have a dangerous mind." He kissed her in lieu of thanking her yet again for being there for him no matter the situation. "Tomorrow though. Or next week even. He needs time away from thinking about the next fight too."

"Of course. I'll work on ways to keep you two safe so that you can continue saving the day." She cupped his face in her hands, fingers running through the stubble that adorned his cheeks. "Dinner will be ready in about an hour, you can either assist if you feel up to it or have a seat, watch some TV and let me wait on you hand and foot."

He knew if he sat back down on that couch he would doze off again, his body wanting the downtime to heal sooner rather than later. He also needed fuel to power the process and his stomach rumbled its need for exactly that. "How about a bit of both," he suggested. "I'll pick a movie to put on in the background, pretend to help while eating all the snacks you put out. Would you really have let them stay for dinner?"

She tapped a few keys on the laptop, then slid off the stool. "Of course. I've done enough research on Wakanda to know they have hospitality rules to prevent a war from breaking out between the tribes, so I cheated and did my best to follow those protocols when your friends arrived at my door."

"Plus it threw Ayo off her game."

Ni grinned. "It most certainly did, didn't it."

"Dangerous," he repeated, then kissed her again just because he wanted to. "I'll find something, maybe Star Wars?"

"Start with The Phantom Menace," she suggested, then moved around the island to check on the bird roasting in the oven.

"Done. Hey, Nienna."

"Yeah?" she asked distractedly, still bent over with her head practically in the oven.

"Thank you."

She stood up and turned around. "For what?"

"For... not asking. Not being angry. Not insisting I stop. For being a support system I didn't even know I needed. For... everything."

She gave him a tiny, sweet smile. "Anytime, James."

He gave her a nod then headed to the living room to start the movie.