Retrograde▸bucky barnes

4. Transit

Lena stepped from the cab she had taken across town, seeing nothing of note and no one she knew. It was a typical fall afternoon, grey skies casting a heavy blue hue on the world.

She pulled out her phone and checked the address Bucky had sent her. She compared the address with the street signs around her and firmly concluded that she was in the correct place. The numbers on her phone screen flicked to 10am, and exactly as they did so she felt a light tap on her shoulder. With a strong desire to forcibly remove the person's hand she turned around to find herself face to face with Bucky.

"Sorry, static electricity," he said, retracting his hand.

Lena blushed, "I was just beginning to wonder if I was in the right place."

"Of course," he gestured for her to follow, "Right this way."

He led them around the corner of the building toward a typical subway entrance.

"The subway?" Lena asked, skeptical.

"Sort of," he looked like he wanted to say something else, to acknowledge the fact that this was only the third time they had met, but said nothing.

However, once past the initial descent, it was clear this was no normal subway as wooden doors framed the entrance. Lena felt a flicker of recognition in the back of her head.

"Is this...the Transit Museum?"

Bucky smiled, "It is. I know it's a very odd place to spend the day but-"

"I had just imagined it to be in a big boring building."

"Why would they do that when we could relive the history of New York as was intended?"

Lena smiled and walked slowly through the beginnings of the passages, reading the informational graphics on the walls. She imagined that she could easily become lost in these passages. The ceilings were low, but warmly lit with draping bulbs. Eventually the main passage opened onto an old platform where things were more spaciously organized.

They wandered through the relatively empty museum. The walls were lined with depictions of early New York. The passages wound through what was once likely a very busy subway platform. Occasionally Bucky would read a passage aloud to her and make his own additions to the history.

"You really did grow up here," Lena said after he told one story.

"I did," he paused, "and so did my family."

He was quiet for many moments after that, following Lena with a practiced pace as if he had walked through these hallways many times before and was enjoying watching her first experience. They reached a room containing miniature displays of old subway cars and backlit maps. Lena traced her fingers along the map, attempting to pinpoint her favorite places around the city.

"There's your coffee shop," Bucky said, placing a gloved finger on the map. Lena traced her finger along various other paths branching from the coffee shop.

"Can I ask you a question?" she asked without looking at him.

"Of course."

"What's with the gloves?"

Out of the corner of her eye saw his jaw tighten and could sense that this was the question he had been hoping to avoid answering. However, he quickly rearranged his features.

"I have a skin condition, ah- injury, on my left hand. Easily infected by non-sterile environments," he paused and glanced to gauge her response. Apparently satisfied he slipped the glove off his right hand and offered it to her in mock greeting.