The Grey Raven // Bucky X Oc (Discontinued For Now)

⠂Chapter 24⠐

“I can take your bags for you,” one of the agents says, reaching for my bag.

Instinctively I lean away from him before rightening and slowly handing over my bag. A second agent takes Bucky’s bag before we’re ushered into the full-sized, black SUV. I sit and stare with curiosity at the front seat which seems to have more buttons and screens than a usual SUV.

I bet it’s bulletproof too. Bucky sits next to me and an agent gets into the driver’s seat, the passenger’s seat already occupied, as the second agent gets into the car in front of us. Why all the security?

“How long is the car ride?” I ask hesitantly, looking between the two agents in the front.

The car pulls out onto the road. “About an hour and a half, ma’am,” the agent in the passenger’s seat responds, his tone and expression staying professional.

I nod, glancing out the darkened windows. He’s kind of attractive. I glance at the agent from the corner of my eyes and quickly cover the side of my face with a sheet of hair to hide my smile. Okay, scratch that. He’s HELLA cute.

The first hour passes surprisingly quickly and we leave the city behind. Bucky clears his throat. “We’re being followed,” he states calmly.

“We are?” the driver asks, seeming shocked. He checks the rearview mirror. “By who?”

“The red Nissan and the silver Honda,” Bucky responds. “They’ve been tailing us for about forty-five minutes.”

“Are you sure they're actually following us or just heading the same way as us?”

“They’ve gone out of their way to stay close behind us.”

I peek out the back window and my eyes land on the Nissan’s license plate. They widen and I quickly turn back around and glance at Bucky. “You remember the docks?” I ask him, not wanting to talk about specifics and hoping he’ll understand what I’m talking about.

He glances at the agents before looking back at me. “It started raining?” he asks, clarifying.

I nod. “The Nissan was parked nearby.”

His eyes narrow. “Are you sure?”

I nod again, catching the agents trying to figure out what we’re talking about. “I’m guessing either not all of them were taken care of or they found the car afterward,” I say, nearly giving more information than I meant to.

“So it’s the same people,” Bucky murmurs, looking thoughtful. He turns to the agents. “The road we turn onto is high security, right?” he asks them.

“We’re approaching it, yes,” the driver says. A few minutes later the SUV in front of ours pulls off the road and we follow after it. The Honda nearly follows us before seeming to catch itself and swerve away.

“I see what you mean,” the passenger agent comments. I notice a slight accent in his voice and frown slightly, trying to figure out what it is.

What I first think are soldiers, walking to the front SUV and ours, I realize that, though they look military, they aren’t. The driver rolls his window down.

“Agent Miles,” the man outside says, smiling.

“Agent Hans. Good to see you,” the driver responds, returning the smile.

“I’m assuming you got the packages?” Agent Hans jokes, glancing back and meeting my gaze. He stares for a few seconds longer than seems necessary, a smirk appearing on his face.

“That we did,” Agent Miles responds, chuckling.

“You’re clear,” Hans says, winking at me before the window rolls up.

I gag to myself and roll my eyes. Some men. I swear.

The gate we had stopped in front of opens and I glance up at the watchtowers as we go past them. For a few miles, it’s trees on either side of the road before it opens up.

“Wow,” I mutter, staring out at an expansive training course, a track, an outdoor pool, and off in the distance a runway.

Ahead of us is a massive, sleek building, and far to its right, near the end of the runway along with airplane hangers, is a cluster of slightly smaller, still sleek, buildings.

We pull up to what I’m assuming is the Avengers headquarters, the singular building. Bucky opens his door and exits the car, I scoot over and exit from his side as well, staring up at the building.

Lots of glass and an almost futuristic look to it with lots of white and light grey. “Captain Rogers should be out in a minute,” the unnamed agent who had been in the passenger’s seat says.

I glance at him to find his eyes on me. I smile coyly and color rises to his cheeks before he quickly looks away and walks to the back of the car. I love making men flustered.

I continue to stare up at the Avengers headquarters, mesmerized by the glimmer of fresh snow from the ground around it as well as sitting on the asymmetrical roof, some of it at different levels.

“This feels surreal,” I murmur. I turn to Bucky. “I’m not sure if I’m dreaming or not.”

“You’re not,” he says, smiling slightly as he gives my arm a flick.

“Ow,” I mutter. “Okay, fine, I’m not.” I rub my arm and give him a mock glare before turning back to the building.

The doors open and Steve Rogers, his head absent of a baseball cap, and a woman exit. “Astrid, I’d like to introduce you to Dr. Lya Robichaud. She’ll want to speak with you,” Rogers says, motioning to the brunette.

“Hi,” I say hesitantly, shaking hands with the doctor.

“I’m so glad to finally meet you,” she says with a smooth french accent. “We have much to talk about.”