James Buchanan Barnes isn't a killer. He isn't merciless, or cunning, or evil.
But something in him is.
*****
A wrapper crinkles, fabric shifts, and a small, open hand jerks in front of my face. The smell of powdery chocolate and oats meets my nos...
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"What?" I ask, mouth half full and red with fruit.
"Train me." She repeats, limbs taut and angular. Her hair is down now, draped over a shoulder. It waves gently in the rising wind, a sea of pure bay.
Train? My lips tug up in question. I'm not built for training.
"You have Romanoff and Steve." I offer, cradling the bowl in my left hand against my side. I notice her gaze shift to the limb quickly before looking back at me.
"I've learned all I need from them. I've trained for two years with Nat. Trained with each of them for another two." She explains. I can't help but notice the straightness in her body, the rigidity in the way she sets her shoulders. Had I not downed her in seventeen seconds this morning, I might think she was... something.
"But you," She extends a hand to encompass my form with a wave. I still under the motion. "You bested me faster than Steve."
I tug down my lips as they try to smile. Bucky Barnes beat Captain America. About time.
"I'm a different kind of soldier." I say, biting another cherry.
"I'm a different kind of student." She counters.
I turn to walk away. "No."
She doesn't run after me, doesn't whine.
"I won't beg." She says firmly.
"I wasn't asking you to."
She grunts behind me, and I keep walking. My free arm swings at my side with my strides. In a matter of seconds I halt and set down the bowl a good few feet away. I throw a cherry between my teeth as I turn my metal wrist in circles.
I smile with anticipation as I hear the supposedly discrete snapping of grass at my back.
Three.
Two.
One.
I turn in time to catch Mila's arm mid-blow as it swings for my chin. Her eyes widen, and the line of her mouth tightens. She reaches her other hand upwards at my left side, and lands a hit to my torso.
I barely feel it, but it lands.
I wrap a leg behind her knees and send her careening towards me as my arm twists around her neck. I press her back to my front and lean in behind her ear.
"This is familiar." I say above her neck.
My arm coils above her collarbone, and metal sings. I wait for her to swing a leg back like last time, to miss and land between my knees instead.
But she doesn't.
The blow comes from above as she snakes her body upwards, pulling me down in half. I feel her core strengthen as she reaches her legs above my head and swings herself atop my shoulders. Her thighs scrape my ears and her arms ensnare my head like shackles. The arm I had around her neck rests caught beneath a leg. My other arm dangles loosely at my side.
