Hi Readers, how are you all finding the pacing of the story? Any favourite parts so far? Anything I can improve?

"I want a security team down there NOW, and I want the entire Stark legal team working on this as of yesterday!" Tony paced the room, barking orders.

He'd taken one look at Jeremy's message and the stricken expression on my face, promised, "That bastard just started a fight he's going to lose," and started making phone calls.

I wasn't registering most of what he'd been saying as we'd returned to the car and to the living room of Stark Towers, but it seemed like he was trying to get Jeremy's control of the house taken away, and making sure he couldn't do anything to it in the interim. While he worked on that, Pepper was making calls and sending emails arranging for a moving team to immediately begin packing up the house. I would be leaving shortly to go supervise that move, since I could help identify what, if anything, could be left behind. We also figured my presence would help soothe the neighbours, in case any of them got panicky about the sudden onslaught of movers and security at the house.

Of course, Tony was being extra paranoid about Jeremy's behavior, and was sending Happy with me as a personal security guard since he had to stay here to work on the legal side of things. Since the plan was in motion and Happy was standing at my side ready to go, I wasn't sure why I had to wait to leave, but I had a feeling it had something to do with the shifty way he'd been avoiding those questions about my departure.

The doors burst open and in filed Bucky, Mr. Rogers, and Ms. Romanoff, the latter looked questioningly at Tony as she surveyed the chaos in the room, "You said there was an emergency, Tony?"

I turned and glared at him, "Tony, you didn't! He's just an average guy, he doesn't warrant this!"

He put whoever he was speaking to on hold, "Yes, I did.—Natasha, Barnes, I need you to accompany Y/N back to her hometown. Captain, no one invited you."

They all stared at him, Mr. Rogers looking slightly offended. Natasha crossed her arms. "You called us here to supervise your daughter?"

Tony rolled his eyes, "No, I called you here to protect her. Some asshole is making problems about her moving here and is involving her access to her mother's house. She needs to go back there to help lead the packing. I'm manning control central from here, so I need you to go with her to make sure he doesn't try anything and to make sure no one gets in her way," he paused, giving them a very intent look, "Please."

Natasha uncrossed her arms, her gaze softening slightly, "Okay, so why us two?"

"Because you're badass and a woman, so you can protect her in places Barnes can't go with her. And Barnes because she's his family too, and as much as that's all a little in-the-air at the moment, I know him enough to know that means something to him, and he'll take her safety personally."

I shifted my gaze to Bucky, wondering if my father's observation was true. Based on the awkward look in the blue eyes that had turned to meet mine, and the swiftness with which he looked away, I figured there was a good chance.

"Okay, now that the excessive amount of cavalry's here, can we go?"

Tony's mouth twitched a little at my impatience, but he sighed and nodded. He came over to me, giving me a quick hug and a concerned look, "Stay safe, okay?"

I nodded, leaning into his hug, before anxiously pulling away and heading for the door. Mr. Rogers stepped in front of me. "I'm coming too."

I rolled my eyes, "What, are you going to drive the tank so that we can try and make the Guinness World Record of Most-Unneeded-Level-of-Protection?"

He gave a small grin, "I mean, I was just planning on going in the car with you, but if you want a tank I'm sure I could arrange it."

I sighed, exasperated, "I'm so done with this. Whatever, more the merrier I guess. But I'm gonna make you help carry furniture."

I stepped around him and into the hall, my entourage falling in step behind me as went out into the landing pad, where a small private jet waited. Happy gave a vague wave as he moved towards the front, and told me to sit anywhere, then overly emphatically specified, 'Except beside me." I shrugged, not bothering to unpack whatever had caused that PTSD in the man. Who would sit right next to someone on a private jet?

I went and chose a spot near the center of the plane, closing the window nearest me and sitting in the aisle seat, nervously reading the safety instructions as I tried to figure out how to fasten the belt.

Ms. Romanoff and Mr. Rogers chose seats near the back, talking quietly. Bucky entered last, closing the plane door behind him. I didn't see where he sat, refocusing on the safety instructions and trying to remind myself to breathe.

"Are you okay?"

I startled at the sound of Bucky's voice, who was crouched down beside me. I looked up at him with a half-grin, "Why are you always asking me that?"

The serious expression on his face softened slightly, "Because I want to know the answer."

I blushed, and looked down at my hands, "I've never been on a plane before. I'm a little nervous."

Silence. I looked at him and it seemed like there was a mini war waging in his eyes, before they suddenly cleared, a decision having been made. He met my gaze, "Would you like me to sit with you?"

"That…that might be nice. But you don't have to if you don't want to."

He stood up, shifting past me to sit on my right, giving me a smile, "If I didn't want to, I wouldn't have offered."

He buckled himself in, just as the engines turned on and a light rumbling could be felt throughout the plane. I returned to frantically trying to figure out how to get my belt fastened, my fingers slipping uselessly against the metal, freezing when a larger hand slipped over top of them.

"Here, let me." Bucky lightly brushed my hand out of the way and deftly secured the buckle, giving it a small tug to make sure it was secure before leaning back in his seat.

I gave him a grateful smile, "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

The pilot announced we were taking off, and the plane began to lift into the air. All of the blood immediately drained from my face and I tightly gripped the armrests, briefly noticing my white knuckles before squeezing my eyes shut. Oh, I didn't like this. I began swallowing, remembering that was supposed to be something to help with the ear popping that usually happened with changes in altitude. My intense focus on trying to NOT think about feeling like I'd left my stomach on the landing pad was interrupted by the feeling of a leather hand on top of mine.

Bucky quietly whispered, "You can squeeze as hard as you'd like, it's the metal arm. You won't hurt me."

I pried my fingers off the armrest, turning my palm upwards instead, gripping his hand. The leather was soft, but I could feel the firmness of the metal hand beneath, especially as I held it in a death-grip that would have made him wince if it had been his other hand—super soldier or not.

"That's right. You're okay. I'm right here, I won't let anything happen to you. Just focus on breathing. In and out. In and out."

He repeated that over and over, and I focused on his words, my breath evening out. Eventually my heart stopped hammering in my chest and the rushing noise in my ears receded, and I realized we were now smoothly gliding through the sky. So smoothly in fact, that it barely felt like we were even moving.

I let out a deep breath, releasing his hand and flexing my tight fingers. I opened my eyes, only slightly surprised when I noticed Bucky's blue ones trained on me. I gave him a slightly shaky smile.

"I'm good, now. Thank you. Again."

He gave me a little smirk, relaxing in his chair, as he faked shaking out his hand, "I think you dented the metal."

I pushed his shoulder, "Rude."

He grinned, "You know, Elizabeth reacted the same way, when I took her on a rollercoaster at Coney Island."

He eyed me speculatively, "I wonder what else you have in common."

I shrugged, "I guess you'll have to spend more time with me to find out."

"I guess so," he chuckled lightly, "So, tell me more about this house we're going to."

"Well, it's where I lived my whole life. My mom too. Grandma moved there shortly after the war, when she got married to Grandpa. We made a lot of memories. We did a major renovation a few years ago…Grandma never saw it finished, but Mom and I made sure to stick to her plans. We haven't changed it since. Most of the stuff in the house was hers too. We each had our own bedroom, but Grandma spent most of her time in the sunroom or the garden. Mom loved to cook and bake, so she was always in the kitchen in her spare time. Whenever I had extra time, I liked to go in the basement, where Grandma had all her memory boxes, and look through her old pictures. There were a lot of you."

He awkwardly cleared his throat, looking away from me towards the window.

"That house is where I had all my birthdays, all my holidays. It's where I played with my friends before they got too cool for me. It's where I got picked up for my first date. It's where my mom and I had a dance party in the living room after he broke my heart. It's always been my safe place. It's not just a house…it's my home. It's all I have left of my family. Of my life as I knew it. It's the most important place in the world to me."

My hands curled into fists in my lap, "And now Jeremy wants to take it away because I don't want to be a good little girl for him."

Bucky's voice came out low and edged with darkness, "Who exactly is this Jeremy?"

"A royal-class douche. But he was my mom's best friend, so he got the house. And he had a very one-way view of thinking himself to be something of a father-figure to me."

"We'll deal with him."

I shot him a glance, "You can't kill him."

He startled, an oddly guilty look in his eyes, "Who said I was going to kill him?"

"No one. But you're the Avengers… you're used to dealing with major bad guys. Lots of kill-or-be-killed situations. Just making sure you're remembering that this is just a normal guy with a bad attitude. I had to drill it into Tony's head too before I left."

He made a noncommittal noise, and turned towards the window, his previously friendly demeanor icing over. What had I said?

The rest of the hour-long flight was spent in awkward silence, but when it came time to land, Bucky wordlessly offered me his metal hand again, which I gratefully took.

We exited right onto the tarmac at the regional airport, the late afternoon sun shining down on us, and immediately loaded into the SUV that was waiting for us. Happy drove, naturally, and I took the passenger seat to be able to direct him when we got closer. Bucky and Mr. Rogers sat in the middle row, and Natasha in the back. It was a short drive, just over twenty minutes. I silently marveled at how much faster the trip took this time. In comparison to the 8 and a half hours it had taken going by bus.

Nerves fluttered through me as we entered my neighbourhood. I'd only been away a few days, but it felt like a lifetime. True to form, many of my neighbours were outside on their porches, not being subtle at all as they watched the spectacle at my house. There were three black tinted SUVs parked against the curb, and a moving truck taking up the driveway. About 10 security men were in a huddle in front of the house, and two casually dressed workers leaned against the moving truck.

Just as we parked, I had a last-minute epiphany. "Wait!"

Everyone in the vehicle looked at me in alarm. Mr. Rogers asked me what was wrong.

"You can't go out there! It's bad enough with all the security, if I show up with three Avengers, it's going to cause even more attention."

They looked at each other. "Disguise time?"

"You guys have disguises?"

They nodded. But before I could finish my sigh of relief, they all just took out baseball caps, pulling them low over their eyes.

I gave them a deadpan look. "You're kidding me, right?"

A sharp laugh came from Happy, "That's about as good as it ever gets. Let's get this show on the road."

I sighed and opened my door, a sense of comfort filling me as I stepped out onto my lawn. I was home.

To pack it up.