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[redactions]

| characters | Bucky and you.
| date/time | Thursday afternoon.
| location | Around
| rating | G.
| summary | The best way to greet your neighbours is to feed them.
| note | I wrote in prose but feel free to use brackets.



He falls asleep instantly on the moss bed, the smell of it familiar and steadying. Combat lends sleep of no restful kind but he barely dreams at all, waking up as soon as the first ray of light peers through the window. There's a moment of bewilderment, and then reality introduces itself to him all over again as he notices the wings are still there when he picks up his gem. He flattens them self-consciously, before finally deciding they take up too much space and leaves the gem carefully tucked under his pillow.

Breakfast, however, is the immediate problem. He saved some water from the rains and an edible mushroom, and it's boiling away merrily on the stove. The glow worm is unusually cooperative, but Bucky supposes that if he's now the size of a dragonfly it's not the weirdest thing in the world.

It's actually nice. He could get used to it.

Once the worm's been sent off with an appreciative scratch on the head, he picks up the large bowl of stew and starts knocking on a few doors.

'Hello?'

Comments

[redactions]

Then it's your lucky day.

[ He stands only so he can bow flamboyantly and takes her hand gently to kiss the back of it. ]

We've got soup, and more soup.

[dissemblance]

I might swoon.

[She's angry, she realizes, as his lips brush her skin. The Winter Soldier, to her, was only ever a man that shot her, an enemy, a silk-spun thread she couldn't follow. It's the first time she realizes with perfect clarity what Rogers - what the world - lost.

She curls her fingers against his, and uses his grip on her hand to stand with due elegance.]

Teach me?

[redactions]

[ Lightly, ] I'll catch you.

[ Ballet indeed; she's graceful. He casts a quick but very appreciative glance at her calves, and gently guides her to the kitchen with a light pressure on her waist. ]

[ Teasing, soft, ] Though lessons might cost ya.

[ He doesn't want to give the impression he's extracting this only because he wants something from her - she's been kind enough and it ain't right to ask a price. At the same time, nothing's free, it's the reality of life. ]

[dissemblance]

I think I'll decide that, Sergeant Barnes.

[She gives him a look over her shoulder, as she goes to haunt a quiet corner of the kitchen to watch him work.]

[redactions]

[ Ouch, but it doesn't dent his good spirits. ]

"James" was better.

[ It's solely good-natured grumbling, as he moves away and starts coaxing a glow worm to heat up the stove. ]

[dissemblance]

[Thoughtfully,]

How do you feel about 'Jim'?

[redactions]

[ He raises his eyebrows. ]

Long as it ain't Jimmy. [ pensively, ] Folks back then used to call me Bucky.

[ But that's Steve's name for him more than it was anyone else's, and Steve's (moved on) not here. Besides. He doesn't feel like that man anymore, not with the ice that's taken root. ]

[dissemblance]

[What does a man have left, when he thinks all that's left waiting for him is an empty Arlington grave? Call me whatever you want, he says, and what she hears is, it doesn't matter anyway.

Gentle but firm, she answers,]

What I want is to call you by the name you'd like to hear.

[redactions]

[ Death has a way of severing some things. He shrugs. ]

You can call me whatever you want.

[ There's just enough flair for the statement to be read as a tease, before he goes back to working on the glow worm. ]

[dissemblance]

Then I'll call you James.

[A gesture to where he's working.]

All right, what's first?

[redactions]

[ She's awfully insistent for just the matter of a name, but he likes how she says it, with just a slight emphasis on the J. ]

C'mere. I think we might be able to train it.

[dissemblance]

'Sit', 'fetch', 'roll over'? I'll stick to my cat.

[But she does drift closer, after a time.]

[redactions]

Dogs are better.

[ He says it without any real force. He's just a dog person. ]

[dissemblance]

[Privately, she agrees. But Anna is a cat person, so--]

Depends on what you're looking for in a companion.

[redactions]

[ Loyalty. But there's no direct question, so he makes an agreeable noise, steps aside and lets her try. ]

[dissemblance]

[Well all right then. But she doesn't ask, and he doesn't clarify.

He's a good cook, as it turns out.]