Trying Your Luck - Bucky BarnesxOC

Part 7: Sunday Kind of Love

She's sitting on the floor of the living room while Bucky sits cross-legged on the couch. The remnants of their dinner sits on the dining room table. Bucky's fingers graze the wound as gently as possible. Ace sits beside him, ever watchful and curious. He gives the dog a gentle scratch underneath his chin with his metal hand. Ace sniffs at his glove and whines softly before flopping back down onto the couch, resting his head against Bucky's thigh.

"It doesn't look too bad," he says. "It's actually starting to heal up. A few more days and I can take the stitches out for you."

"Is my head injury getting me a fifth date?" Shannon asks.

"It would seem that way," he replies.

Shannon stands up and pads over to the record player that sits in the corner. The needle drops and he recognizes the song. Etta James, Sunday Kind of Love. On their first official date, which was lunch near her work, he told her he liked this song. Sam gave him this record, along with a huge pile of them that he's slowly making his way through - plus the songs and albums that Steve wrote in his notebook. It helps him feel closer to his best friend. They really didn't get enough time.

Bucky likes the albums Sam gave him, but he prefers the music he grew up listening to. And 40's music. It's comforting, it feels like home. It reminds him of a different time. Before HYDRA, before memory wipes, assassinations, and a list of names he has only recently begun to remember thanks to the Wakandans. He owes them everything for saving his life, for giving him some peace. Wakanda was the first time in his life he had felt truly calm and collected. He loves Brooklyn, but this Brooklyn is different than the one he remembers. It's so much faster and louder. Chaotic. He can't keep up with it ninety-nine percent of the time. The world has changed so much and Bucky just feels lost in it. He's not sure he'll ever truly adjust.

Bucky smiles.

"You remembered."

"Of course I did! And then I made a very disgruntled teenager track it down for me at the record store."

"I'm sure he loved that."

"Yeah, he called it old people music. Which I took offense to on your behalf."

He chuckles.

"Oh, well, thank you. I appreciate that."

She holds her hand out and Bucky raises his eyebrows.

"You dance?"

"Badly," Shannon laughs. "Do you?"

"I used to. Haven't in a long time."

"It's probably like riding a bike."

She's got a point. Bucky stands and takes her hand.

"Here. I'll lead."

"Good," Shannon replies. "Because I don't know what I'm doing."

"It's okay."

He closes the gap between them and lifts his right hand. Shannon takes it while his metal arm wraps around her, just above her waist. Her free hand rests on his shoulder. He pulls her gently toward him so that they're as close as they can get without tripping over one another. Shannon smiles up at him and Bucky takes a deep breath. He's pretty sure he remembers how to do this. It can't be that hard. He used to dance all the time before he was deployed. Swing and Lindy Hop were the ones he was the best at. There were nights where he could have danced until the sun came up if he were able to. Bucky looks down at her.

"Just follow my lead. When I go back, you go forward, and vice versa."

"I'm scared I'm going to trip over you," she giggles.