James Bucky Barnes, the former soldier, doesn't think he's got any gentleness left in him. But Grace Juniper Cunningham, the former child prodigy, strongly disagrees.
;
"𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯."
"𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴�...
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That afternoon, I slipped into Nat's apartment with a quiet greeting that she either ignored or didn't notice—I wasn't sure which. She was focused on a tablet in front of her, presumably doing important spy stuff, and she didn't look up as I sat in a chair near her. When she finally spoke, the noise made me jump as it cut through the silence, even though I was expecting it.
"Barnes was outside waiting for you. All morning. Told me to fuck off when I told him stalking you will get him put on the Raft."
She hadn't looked up from her work. I settled back in and tucked my feet up underneath myself in a half-assed effort to look equally distracted. "Yeah, he's kind of a dick," I said.
"You dodged a bullet," she said.
I couldn't tell if she really assumed I'd rejected him or if she was trying to get information. Sometimes Nat would do this thing where she'd say the opposite of what she thought was true, just to make me either lie unconvincingly or correct her. It made my vertebrae itch.
"Mhm," I said.
"What did he say when you turned him down?" she asked. She finally looked up at me, an eyebrow raised, a hint of amusement on her face.
"Okay, I don't know if you're just teasing me, but I can tell that you know I slept with him again, and I can tell that you know that I know that you know that, and it's stressing me out that we're not acknowledging it."
"You slept with him again?" she asked.
"Nat!" I groaned. I leaned my head back against the chair and tried to sink myself further into it.
"You wouldn't do well under interrogation," Nat said. "I didn't know where you were all day, and it took me ten seconds to find out."
"I just hate it when you do that. When you imply stuff. I can never figure out what you really think."
"I know. You can't stand to have things left unsaid."
;
Despite all rational thought telling me not to, I'd still ended up naked in Bucky's bed again late that evening. He'd called me while I was mid-conversation with Natasha. ("You better stay there tonight! I don't want him breaking my door down!" she'd called as I put my slippers on and left).
I did stay, settling back into his bed, letting him hold me. We laid like that for a few minutes before I gathered the nerve to speak up about what was bothering me—that I knew I shouldn't fall asleep, not without him.
"Bucky?" I spoke into his chest, tentatively, as if I was checking to see if he was awake. I already knew he would be, though.
