LEAVING TONIGHT. . . BUCKY BARNES

[ 012. ] retrospect

december 5, 1991

Seattle, Washington had been enveloped in a curtain of rain since early that morning. Now the sun had set for the day, and Avery McCoy could still hear the faint pattering of rain drops on the metal roof of the Seattle SHIELD Laboratory.

Avery sits at her station, a bright white light shines on the work in front of her. A mess of wires is scattered across her desk. A pair of green rimmed round glasses sit at the bridge of her nose as she meticulously untangles them.

She knows it was nearing midnight, judging by the fact that most of the chemistry interns that stayed late every night were already gone. She can faintly hear the chattering between some of the research assistants in the back, but Avery wasn't paying much attention. She drowns the noise out with the radio playing softly beside her. Most of it was songs she didn't listen to, and an occasional interruption as the radio host update the listener on the weather. Avery didn't mind, she enjoyed the background noise, even if it meant listening to the same Billy Joel song over and over again.

"11:38," The orotund voice of Anita King makes Avery jump. It illicits a chuckle from her friend. "Jeez, McCoy, I think this is your record."

Avery pulls away from her work, leaning back in her chair to get a good look at her friend. Anita has shed the white lab coat they're forced to wear. Her blazer is folded neatly over her arm, an umbrella hangs from that same arm.

Avery yawns involuntarily, as she leans back to stretch. She had been hunched over her work station for the last couple hours, she can hear her joints cracking as she does so. Anita grimaces.

"It's not like I'm trying to set this record," Avery mutters back, swiveling back to her original position. Anita sighs, pushing a stack of paperwork sitting at the corner of Avery's desk to sit.

"Really?" She questions, a thick brow tugging upward. "Because I think untangling cords isn't exactly a reason to stay past midnight."

"It's not midnight yet. I still have," She hums, looking down at the gold clad watch sitting on her wrist, "Twenty-two minutes."

Anita narrows her eyes at the girl. She reaches over, pulling a handful of entangled wires from the pile Avery had.

"Avery," Her friend starts off, seriousness lacing her voice. "We both know why you're still here. Why you're avoiding going home."

Avery groans, waving her hand dismissively before reaching over to turn the volume up on the radio. Music blares through it's speakers for a split second before being almost immediately turned down by Anita. A frown decorates her lips.

"I'm not avoiding going home." Avery says.

"You're going to have to talk to him eventually," Anita shoots back.

Avery hates that her friend's right. She knows it's irrational to stay past midnight sorting through old boxes of wires that she will most likely never use. She hates sneaking into her own home, slipping in bed with someone she won't talk to (though recently she has settled for sleeping on her own couch).

"And say what?" She asks lowly. "Hey, I'm so sorry I rejected your marriage proposal?"

A compassionate smile spreads across Anita's face. "It's a start."

A start to the end, Avery thinks. Because that was what it would be, an official end to her relationship. No couple comes back from that, from the utter humiliation of being left on one knee in front of the Space Needle.

"Yeah," Avery replies quietly. "I guess so."

"Hey, if you want, I'm getting drinks with one of the hot agents," Anita says, "You can come with if you want."