A/N: So I actually started writing this before the series ended and had gotten a fair chunk of it done when the finale upended a bit of it. Therefore changes had to be made. Not necessarily drastic ones, but enough that I had to take a beat to work out how I wanted to proceed. Of course, during that time a bevy of additional ideas came to mind, and now instead of a cutesy boy meets girl story, it turned into something else.
The cute boy meets girl element is definitely still there, but it also gained a plot of sorts.
Additional notes: I STILL subscribe to the time-loop theory for Steve Rogers and not the alt timeline. I mention this for (mostly minor) reasons. Also, I don't do happy endings, so just go ahead and prepare yourself now for the inevitable.
PS: the original title was Dating in a Post-Blip World
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covered in frost
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He'd seen her around the neighborhood. Same grocery stores, same coffee shops, and restaurants. Always by herself, sometimes with a laptop and headphones, sometimes without - the last mostly at the grocery store, because why would you be working on your laptop there - her world seemingly tiny from his outside perspective.
So he'd been surprised when he recognized her on the dating app, not expecting her to be on the site he supposed. The only reason he had downloaded the damn thing was that Sam had insisted he do something, anything to meet new people. To take a risk and put himself out there. Instead of hiding in his apartment when not out on a mission with Captain America.
Her profile looked nearly as sparse as his, with no hint of what she did for a living, no real background info, and under job, it simply stated: "professional nerd", which could mean just about anything in this day and age, and what caught his eye, under hobbies that she had a fondness for Tolkien.
He found himself swiping right without contemplating the potential consequence of that action.
The "you have a new match" pop-up surprised him and he cringed inwardly, already regretting the simple motion he'd made with his thumb on what clearly had to be an oversensitive touchscreen.
He quickly closed the app and tucked the phone away hoping like hell she wouldn't notice. Given his disastrous date with Leah, he seriously doubted another would be any more successful. He'd avoided eating there ever since he'd finally told Yori the truth about how and why his son had been killed. Oh, he still saw Yori now and then, but no longer attempted to be part of his life. The truth about the death of his son closing one wound while opening yet others.
Bucky had mourned the loss of the friendship but had always been prepared for its inevitable ending. He hadn't moved on, so much as taken ownership of the pain he'd caused, and done what little he could to ease it.
An effort he would be repeating a dozen or so more times in the coming weeks.
Of course, since he'd been paying more attention to the phone than the suddenly more crowded than it had been sidewalk, his shoulder connected solidly with a less than solid body. He reached out and caught his unintended victim's forearm before they landed on their ass on the unforgiving concrete. Their phone, however, hit the pavement with a solid snap that boded ill for its survival.
"Oh, god I am so sorry," he told... her as it turned out. And not just any her, but the professional nerd he'd just connected with. "Fuck," he muttered.
"Not on the first date, generally," she quipped as she straightened. "Thanks for the save there."
He stared at her for a long moment, unsure how to process either of her responses. So he squatted down and picked up the phone, noting the spiderweb of cracks on the screen and the obviously damaged case to go along with them. He sighed softly. "I think I broke your phone."
She took it from him with what appeared to be an amused shake of her head. She tapped the screen and it came to life with no apparent issues other than the now fragmented view of her lock screen. "The case is doomed, but it's most likely just the glass cover that's damaged. I've done far worse to phones in my lifetime."
"I'll cover the cost of replacing it." This reparation he could deal with now instead of later. He reached for his wallet, intending to hand her whatever cash he had on hand and be done with it, certain she would never want to hear from him again after this calamitous impromptu meeting.
She stuffed her phone into a pocket. "How about coffee instead?" she suggested, a hint of a smile turning her lips upwards.
He stared at her, confusion warring with what he could only describe as astonishment on his face. "What?"
"Unless you swiped right by accident?" Now she sounded unsure of herself.
He ducked his head, wishing he hadn't cut his hair and could hide from her while he figured out what to say next.
Her entire body went tense. "Ah. Okay. No harm, no foul. You have a good day then."
She stepped around him and continued in the direction she'd been heading when he'd plowed into her. He counted ten steps before he spun about and jogged to catch up with her. "Hey."
She ignored him, so he put on a small burst of speed to get in front of her and turned about walking backward and matching her pace. "Yes."
She raised an eyebrow but didn't stop walking. "Yes, what?"
He swallowed the sudden urge to apologize again and run away, not wanting to get in any deeper. The obnoxious voice of Sam rang in his head, however, reminding him, like some annoying version of Jiminy Cricket, that he needed to make connections if he hoped to move forward with his life. "Yes, I'd like to buy you a coffee."
She stopped and stepped to the side, out of the flow of people trying to get from point A to point B in the early afternoon. "Are you sure? You wouldn't be the first to realize they'd made a mistake after actually meeting me."
He tipped his head slightly to the side, watching her for any signs of guile, but only saw a woman who, based on his conclusions, had spent a lot of time alone. Much like himself. "I'm sure. I'll... I'll DM you?" He knew he sounded uncertain, but he hoped it came across as being unused to online dating as opposed to it being her.
She gave him a shy smile. "I'd like that."
He nodded. "Me too. And I'll still pay for any repairs to your phone."
She laughed. "Not necessary. She began walking away, still smiling. "DM me, or else."
He turned about to watch her leave. "Or else what?"
She looked back over her shoulder grinning at him but didn't say a word. He stayed there, leaning against the building for quite some time after she'd melted into the crowd wondering exactly what he'd just done.
. . .
"Shall we get the preliminaries out of the way?"
He nodded not certain what that might entail.
"Snapped or not?"
"Don't you mean Blipped?"
She scrunched up her face. "No one called it that until after the lost returned. And no getting out of answering."
He sighed. "Snapped. You?"
"Not," she responded. "Family?"
He blinked. "Gone. Long before the Snap though. Yours?"
"Most of my direct family were Snapped. Mom died because the plane she was on went down after the pilots vanished."
He frowned. "That must have been hard for you."
She shrugged. "I survived, which is more than a lot of people were able to do. And I got them back. That matters."
"Yeah, it does." He bowed his head, both hands wrapped about the fancy mug of coffee he'd chosen. He took a moment to breathe in the aroma before taking a sip while he contemplated how to respond to her statement. "You shouldn't feel guilt for being one of those who lived."
"That's what my therapist keeps saying but..." she shrugged again. "Snapped or not, the world kept turning and didn't give a great god damn about those who lived upon it."
"And yet you still wonder why me?" he summed up, having thought the exact same thing if from the opposite perspective.
She nodded in agreement. "A lot of us do even as we try to move on." She settled back into her seat, brushing her hair back from her face and tucking it behind her ear. "How about you, are you adjusting okay to being back?"
"I think I'm doing the best I can given the circumstances." He hid behind the mug of coffee again. "Full disclosure I only downloaded the dating app because my friend insisted." A half-truth at best. Sam had indeed been poking him to get out and meet people beyond those who lived in Sam's hometown. That and probably to discourage him from actually dating Sarah. Which, admittedly he'd been tempted to do just to annoy Sam. Sarah had become family though, so dating her at this juncture just wouldn't feel right.
She tipped her head slightly, eyes narrowing. "Introvert?"
"These days, yes. Too much so in his opinion." There was a lot more than that involved in Bucky's reasons, but, at this juncture in their... relationship, she didn't need to know the details.
"Making connections these days can feel... risky. We now know how easily we can lose... everything."
He couldn't help but agree with her. "All the more reason to hold onto what you have?"
"That's one option," she agreed without offering up any others. "So, why me?"
He hunched his shoulders slightly for a moment, before straightening and looking her in the eye to answer. "I've seen you around, so when I recognized you on the app..."
"You tapped the like icon," she finished. "So, just because I was a familiar face?"
He shook his head. "You like Tolkien," he explained, probably poorly.
She snorted into her mug, her eyes lighting up in actual amusement. "Really?"
He nodded. "Really. And... and you weren't looking for-" He stopped unsure how to complete that sentence.
"Netflix and chill?"
He barked in surprised laughter knowing exactly what that phrase meant. "Exactly. I've been told I need to make new connections after everything I've been through."
"And you picked me? Should I feel honored?"
"Undoubtedly," he told her, making her grin in response.
"I think, ultimately, I will be the judge of that." She sipped her coffee. "I looked over your profile, obviously, what do you prefer to be called?"
He started to answer Bucky, which he had not included in his profile but stopped himself, not yet ready to chase her away when she realized who exactly sat across from her. "James is fine."
One eyebrow rose on her forehead. "Not Jimmy or Jim?"
"Do I look like either of those?" he responded, only a touch affronted.
She snorted. "Nope. Did you grow up around here?"
"Brooklyn?" He nodded. "You could say that, though it has changed more than a bit since I played stickball in the streets." He couldn't seem to stop himself from dropping hints about who he really was and he took a moment to try to figure out why. Yes, Sam had basically ordered him to do this and now he'd be able to tell him he'd tried and... and... Did he really not want it to work out? He'd gotten better at being whoever Bucky Barnes was, but still had days when The Winter Soldier colored everything he saw and did. He might have learned to open up with Sam and Sarah et al, but they lived thousands of miles away and, though he'd truly considered moving there, where he'd been welcomed unreservedly, Brooklyn was home in a way no other place on the planet could ever be.
"And you? You a local?"
"Yes and no. Manhattan-born and raised, moved to Brooklyn when things fell apart." She glanced about the room, something in her eyes making him realize her time during those years had not been as easy as she had vaguely implied. "It was safer."
He nodded, not certain he should ask for details and more, not certain he wanted to hear them. Knowing those years hadn't been easy in a general sense seemed to be a lot different than learning how bad they'd been for individuals. Everyone, literally, had a story to tell and there were plenty that didn't have happy endings.
He stared into his cup, the silence not awkward so much as needed to move beyond the reality of the past then asked, "Is your name short for something, it's unique."
She grinned at his unintentional pun. "It's short for Nienna. I just go by Ni so I don't have to explain to everyone the meaning of my name. Most assume it's a Monty Python reference."
Bucky looked at her in confusion. "Monty Python?"
"Oh, I am so not explaining that if you don't already know. You can research it later if you really want to."
He debated pulling out his phone and doing it right now, but her name sounded oddly familiar to him. "Nienna that's..." Then it clicked. Those two years before the UN bombing hadn't just been him hiding, he'd taken the time to try and piece parts of his life back together, and that included reacquainting himself with pastimes he'd enjoyed prior to becoming The Asset. He'd abused every library he could find and read many a book series he'd missed during his years in cold storage. And that included not only revisiting The Hobbit, but every other book Mr. Tolkien had written. "No wonder you're a Tolkien fan. But that means people are saying your name wrong."
She ducked her head as if embarrassed he'd figured it out so easily. "I got used to it and it meant I didn't have to explain that my parents were total nerds."
"So says the professional nerd," Bucky countered with an attempt at a smile.
She raised an eyebrow at him. "If that was a smile... then I've failed miserably here."
He shook his head quickly to disabuse her of that notion. "No, you haven't. I... introvert, remember. Social interaction with new people is not my strong suit."
She narrowed her eyes. "If you're sure. I mean, I'll understand if you're not interested. You are under no obligation to stay beyond this first cup of coffee if you don't wish to."
"And miss out chatting with a character from one of my favorite authors? Not a chance." And he found that he meant the words. He might not have been one hundred percent comfortable, but he also didn't want to run screaming from the experience either. She had piqued his curiosity just enough that he wanted to keep going for now. "Speaking of which, you ready for another drink? Maybe a beer?"
The location had been her suggestion, a place called The Daily Grind, both trendy and upscale and that had capitalized on people's need to get going in the morning and wind down at night. They claimed to be a brewpub but didn't really serve food, just a robust selection of overpriced appetizers, instead, they roasted their own beans for the coffees and served microbrewed beers in the afternoons and evenings.
He'd seen the place but never walked in figuring it would have been so far outside his comfort zone that there'd be no point. He'd been right about that, but being here, with Nienna, the discomfort had faded to the background, a subtle white noise that her presence had mostly drowned out. And he had to admit his coffee, even though just a simple pour-over, had been worth the cost of admission.
"Sure. What would you like?" She got to her feet and reached for his empty mug.
"I've got it," he tried to argue. The guy paid for the date, even if it had been arranged through an app.
"James," She waved a hand for him to remain seated, "you can get the next round, okay?"
He took a beat then nodded. "Will there be a next round?" he found himself asking much to his surprise.
She gave him a smile. "Oh, I think there's a definite possibility of that."
At that assurance he permitted her to wander off towards the bar and order beers for the two of them. He realized after a moment that he hadn't told her what he wanted, not that he had any clue. Never mind that couldn't get drunk thing. He didn't drink alcohol all that often for just that reason. Not on his own anyhow. When with others he joined in, because why not. It had, for him, simply become a social contrivance. An effort to blend in and seem normal, no matter that he fell so far outside the norms that most people simply could not understand. Some would be envious, some would hate, and others seemed to just feel sorry for him.
He wanted normal.
Or as close as he could manage.
Maybe just another moment of calm in the wild storm his life had become.
Thankfully, spending time with Sam and his family had given him a taste of what normal could be and he'd often found himself wanting more.
Nienna returned with two oversized pint glasses. She handed him one filled with a dark liquid and kept one that was even darker, damn near black in color. She plopped back into her seat without causing the liquid in her glass to slosh about even the slightest then proceeded to drink two inches before he had the chance to say anything. "Sorry," she muttered when she came up for air, "I have a thing for imperial stouts and this one is fantastic."
He just blinked at her. Beer was beer. Right?
She gestured at his glass. "You are about to discover one of my weirder talents."
"And that would be?" he asked as he took a cautious sniff of the brew. He picked up the scents of caramel and vanilla, and... cinnamon? Cloves? Something that made him think about autumn and pumpkins anyway.
"Picking the perfect beer for a stranger."
"Am I? A stranger that is?" He took a sip, the flavors not nearly as prominent as the scents had been, but still present, under which lay the heart of the dark lager itself, slightly sweet, but startlingly good. He took a larger drink, found it to be just as good as the first taste, and drank a third before he realized it. When he lowered the glass he found her watching him with pure amusement in her eyes. "Damn, that... that's good."
"I told you. And while I want to say no, I have to say yes."
He almost asked to what, when he remembered he'd asked a question before being distracted by the most excellent beer. "Why is that?"
She laughed softly. "Because we've just met, that's why. Now, am I willing to continue this... date to perhaps not become strangers? Yes."
"Good," he answered much to his shock, "but only if you let me get the next round."
She nodded. "Seems fair. So, we've established a mutual nerdom for Tolkien... have you seen the movies?"
He shook his head. "I know about them, but haven't really had the chance to watch them. My previous... line of work didn't include a lot of personal time."
"Well, I'll have to fix that for you."
Bucky almost choked on the swallow of beer given that offer seemed totally counter to her previous 'still strangers' comment. "Uh..."
"I own them on Blu-ray, I can loan them to you," she explained. "But yes, if you wanted to do a movie night I would be willing to host that as well."
"You'd do that?"
Her eyes got this faraway look in them. "Any excuse to gaze upon the beauty that is Legolas."
Bucky laughed, a real smile lighting up his face this time.
"Ah, now that's a real one. My work here is done." She made as if to get up and leave so Bucky reached out and set his right hand on her forearm. He didn't leave it there for more than a second, realizing quickly it might be misinterpreted, but he didn't want her to leave.
Not yet.
"Stay, please."
She settled back into the seat. "I suppose I can stay for a while longer," she told him with an odd tone to her voice, which clued him in that she'd been kidding about leaving. "So, besides being a Tolkien fanboy, what do you do for fun?"
"Punch Nazis," he responded without thinking then sighed softly. He really needed to start taking a moment before replying. The answer not a lie by any means, but definitely not one that would make sense to her in any current context. "Figuratively, of course."
She tipped her head and looked him over with a gimlet eye. "Military? Army maybe?"
"How did you know?" he questioned, trying not to seem suspicious.
"I have a smattering of family and friends who went into various branches, you all have a look whether or not you realize it. Plus, I've dealt with more than a few in my line of work.
He hadn't planned on asking, but since she'd given him an opening, he couldn't pass up the opportunity. "And what is it you do for a living? Your profile didn't say."
"Yours didn't either," she countered, but not in an argumentative way. "I have PhDs in neurophysics and computer science among others."
Oof. She had brains behind those bright green eyes. Professional nerd indeed. "And?"
"Basically I design AIs and high-end control systems for pretty much anything. My focus lately has been power systems." She looked away, an almost dour expression on her face as if not wanting the others around them to overhear.
He leaned forward so that she wouldn't need to speak as loud to be heard. "What kind of systems?"
She did that glance about again then emulated him so that their faces were less than a foot apart. "You know, electric plants, nuclear, water, sewer, anything that normally requires multiple people to monitor."
He instantly understood. When the Snap had occurred, people who held those exact jobs had vanished, leaving too few to handle the massive systems and keep the power online, or the water running, or a dozen other operations vital to the current society. Several nuclear plants had melted down in the aftermath with no one there to make sure the delicate balance had been maintained. "Damn," he muttered. He knew the consequences to the Snap had been massive, he just hadn't really thought about how massive. "My hero?" he asked only slightly facetiously.
She shrugged. "At the time, maybe a little. Now though..."
Now all those people who'd had those jobs had returned to discover they were no longer needed. That a computer program had replaced them. "You still need people there to watch the systems though, don't you?"
She drank some beer before answering. "Yes, just not as many. One person can now easily do the job of ten. But even I will admit that I, and therefore the system, cannot yet predict every event that could cause an issue."
"Which is why you need people there to assist," he finished and she nodded in agreement. "But if you are creating an AI version... would planes be able to land themselves?"
"That's the goal. Stark had advanced programs that could do exactly that, but he didn't share that tech. So while we know it can be done, I'm not quite there yet."
"Which is why you studied neuroscience. If you can figure out how to emulate the human brain then they have the potential of predicting and reacting to any potential problem, not just the ones you program in."
"Precisely," she agreed, sounding thankful he understood her purpose. "But not everyone is thrilled with that goal even though my only intent is to save lives."
That particular phrase made the why obvious, especially after his recent... encounter with Zemo. "Ultron."
She hunched slightly. "And Vision, yes. That's a big part of it."
"But none of Stark's butler programs went evil, did they? Ultron went sideways because of the Mind Stone, right?"
"That's what they say, but the Mind Stone also created the original Vision, so..." She frowned. "Let's just say it's a touchy subject and leave it at that."
"Which is why you don't like to talk about it. I have a feeling more that few people have expressed displeasure at you eliminating their jobs while they were gone."
She sighed and ran a hand through her dark hair. "That's one way to put it. It's why I don't put my business or full name on my profile. I'll understand if you don't-"
"Stop. I'm in for the duration, whatever that might turn out to be. You probably saved lives with your work and had no way of knowing everyone would return eventually. You did what was needed at the time. That should matter more."
"You'd think so," she groused, then shook off the mood and gave him a brilliant smile. "So in for the duration, huh? You may come to regret that."
He shook his head, doubting that very much. "So might you," he pointed out, kind of wondering how long it would take for her to realize who she sat across from and run screaming in the opposite direction, thankful she'd survived a near miss from The Winter Soldier.
"Doubtful. You liked the beer."
He snorted, willing to see where this date led.
