Fiery Hatred || Bucky Barnes x OC

bar wench

"Come on, who was she?" Steve asked as his childhood best friend hopped into the back of the limousine with him. He could tell that James was irritated from they way her slammed the door so fucking hard the whole vehicle shook. Steve had watched as he stood with the beautiful red haired girl, opening the car door for her, pushing it closed, and slamming his fist into the side of the building. 

"Just a spoilt little brat, that's all." He grumbled fists still balled at his side, eyes glaring out of the window. Steve rolled his eyes knowing that was the most he was going to get from the whole journey back to their office building, but he just couldn't let it go.

"Really Buck? I've never seen you so reserved next to such a hottie." He joked trying to gauge Bucky's reaction. Nothing. He let out a deep sigh and went back to checking his phone.

~~~

"So," Nat started "Who was he?"

"Just an arrogant arse." Harley responded jaw still clenched. Nat had known Harley long enough to figure out that she wasn't getting anything else from her. The two had met fifteen years ago at a school Harley was dumped at while her dad toured Europe. They hit it off right away, immediately getting into a fist fight with each other, but making up promptly afterwards. They've been practically inseparable ever since, with Harley often spending Christmases and almost every other holiday at the Romanoff household. 

"He was fucking delicious." Nat smirked, jabbing her elbow into Harley's ribcage earning a playful dig on the shoulder. "I'm driving here asshole!"

"Evidently, not very well." Harley mumbled raising her middle finger at Natasha. 

Nat pulled up outside Harley's apartment , giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling off and skidding away. Harley clamoured through the door of her apartment kicking off her shoes and tearing her jacket off. Eight O'clock. She had just enough time to shower and change before heading for her shift at the bar.

She turned on the boiling water letting it cascade over her letting her stress wash away. All the thoughts of the meeting and the lawyers and James Barnes... Why the hell was she thinking about him while she showered? She tried to push the thought of his built shoulders and rasping voice from her head, not wanting to get herself worked up over someone she was likely to never see again. She traced a finger over the large scar adorning her stomach, desperately wanting that to wash away as well.

After stepping from the shower she got ready for work and waltzed down to the garage to get her motorcycle. A 1948 Harley-Davidson panhead. The last gift she had ever received from her mother. She looked after that bike better than she looked after herself. She rolled the bike out onto the busy street, watching the sun hiding behind the colossal buildings. Her helmet was pulled over her head and she started up the engine, the roar vibrating through her whole body. There was not a better sound in the whole world. 

She pulled up outside the bar and was greeted by Mack and his guys all huddled around something. She ripped off her helmet freeing her skull from the pressure and strutted over towards the crowd. 

"Hey Mack, what is it?" She called trying to peer over the shoulders of the men. The crowd parted to reveal a 1951 Vincent Black Lightening parked, in practically pristine condition. Harleys eyes almost popped out of her head. "Holy Shit." she breathed.

"My thoughts exactly kiddo." Mack responded placing a hand on her shoulder. She glared over it taking in every inch of the magnesium alloy, the aluminium mudguards and that beautiful pushrod air-cooled engine.

"Who's is it?" She stuttered, totally honoured to be in the presence of such greatness. 

"No idea, it was here when we arrived." He responded. "We'll go find out."