Lost and Found - Bucky Barnes x OC

Near Miss

James 'Bucky' Barnes sped along the busy city street on his motorcycle. It was a bright spring afternoon, and he felt alright. Mostly anyway. His therapy session that morning had been a heavy one, tough truths and intense revelations. He was trying to 'do the work' as he kept being told, but exposing the fragile parts of yourself was never easy. Particularly when you're so used to suppressing and avoiding your pain. But hey, the sun was out at least.

The therapy was no longer mandated but he had chosen to continue with a different therapist. As much as he found it excruciating, he couldn't deny it had helped. Twice a week for now, just to keep things ticking over.

As he drew nearer to his apartment he pulled up to a set of traffic lights. Momentarily letting his mind wander, wondering if he should get himself out of the apartment tonight, or stay in like he really wanted. Despite being in a better place than he had been a few months ago, and feeling like an extended member of Sam's family, he found building his own life back in Brooklyn was proving tough. He still had a little ways to go.

At that same moment, mere feet away, thirty two year old Francesca Butterfield strolled to work for the late shift. Well, Frankie strolled to work. Nobody called her Francesca except her late dad, Frank (Frankie senior, Big Frankie to his friends). She was just Frankie to her friends and Frankie to her enemies. And that suited her just fine.

Frankie was in a good mood. She managed the family business now her beloved dad had passed and work was booming. Busy. Clients liked what she did, she had a great small team and they got a lot of new business from word of mouth. The sun was shining today too which always brightened her up. And she'd secured a date with a cute guy she'd been talking to on a dating app for a couple of weeks. Life was good! Her black bob bounced as she walked, gently humming along to Lizzo on her earbuds.

Turning to cross the street she saw the pedestrian light was about to switch from green to red so she zipped across in the final seconds before it did. Suddenly she heard the squeal of brakes on tarmac and she froze instinctively, realising she'd very nearly been hit by a motorcycle. In shock, she leapt onto the curb and gazed at the perpetrator in horror. 'What the FUCK dude' she yelled. 'The light for you was red? The pedestrian sign was green! Are you blind?! You could've killed me'.

The would-be assailant, dressed head to toe in leather, pulled over to the curb. She was surprised to find an attractive 30-something man sitting behind the handlebars. He was tall, well-built, neatly styled dark hair, strong jawed and with piercing sky blue eyes which bore into her. There was an intensity to him too which she couldn't put her finger on. In any other circumstances she'd likely be gooey eyed, but for now she was too angry.

'Are you alright?' the man said solemnly, his voice low and gruff. He looked both concerned and annoyed, but his voice contained no emotion. His scowl heavy on his face. If the near miss had scared him, he certainly wasn't showing it. 'Look, my light was green, not red. You must've stepped out as it changed. But no harm done, I'm glad you're OK'.

Bucky looked the angry woman up and down. She was furious, he could see the rage burning in her eyes. But he was sure the light was green when he'd set off. She appeared out of nowhere. Really she was lucky he had the reflexes to stop as quickly as he did, but he didn't tell her that.

She was dressed...scruffily. Baggy tracksuit pants and a scruffy T-shirt with beat up old work boots. Didn't appear to be wearing any make up, or not much if she was. But she wasn't plain by any means, with big brown eyes which were full of life (or maybe just full blown anger). Her hair was very dark in a shaggy bob style which complimented her soft features. A slightly upturned nose, but he found it strangely charming. He assumed she normally had full pouty lips too, but it was hard to tell currently as they were pulled into a snarl.