My Name Is Bucky [FemBucky&Sam]

Battlestar

She obviously isn’t – as they walk, side by side, down the vacant road, Bucky says, “I’m sorry about Redwing.”

“No, you’re not.” Sam replies with just a little attitude of his own, and only just to humour her, because he knows she’s only saying it to antagonize him. Although, he has to bite his bottom lip keep from smirking, because really, he knows she’s just pissed off at getting her supersoldier ass handed to her by a bunch of kids – even if they’re all supersoldiers, too – and is only taking it out on him, because there’s no one else around...

And also, maybe, because he lets her. And that’s only because his heart sometimes aches for her when he thinks about all the shit (he can only imagine, though, he doesn’t like to) she’s been through in her life.

“You’re right. I’m not.”

Sam rolls his eyes at her.

Bucky doesn’t smirk, even though she wants to, because of the damn cat, so instead, she asks, “You got a phone?”

“What happened to yours?”

“Oh, I dunno, Sam. Maybe I lost it when I was getting thrown under a moving truck.” Bucky glares at him, but it’s only half-hearted.

She doesn’t seem to notice when his smile falters a tiny bit, and Sam still, somehow, feels grateful for that, while he’s also busy trying not to recall the feeling he felt at seeing her fall.

He quickly recovers himself and shoves his thoughts aside, and instead, asks, “What’d you need a phone for anyway?” He gives her a small smile when she only arches a brow at him in reply. “You know what I mean.”

She does, and he knows she does, but she doesn’t answer, just keeps up her steady pace.

He also knows he probably shouldn’t, but he speaks his mind anyway. He wants her to know he’s (annoyingly, in his mind, because she really can be a pain in his ass) a little bruised inside by the fact that she’s been ghosting him since they both said their goodbyes to Steve. Even if she doesn’t care, which he doesn’t know how, but he knows she does.

“So, you can pick up the phone to give someone a call, but you can’t pick it up to answer when someone’s calling you?”

He arches a brow back at her and even shoots her a pointed look just for emphasis, and Bucky knows he’s right, even suddenly feels a little guilty for ignoring him these passed few months.

She doesn’t look at him, instead, she tells him, “I gotta ask my neighbour to feed the cat. I didn’t exactly plan on flying to Germany today.”

Sam has so many questions right now, but he settles with the first that comes rushing through his lips: “You have a cat?”

She can hear the grin in his voice, along with the annoying surprise. “What? I can’t have a cat?” She glances back at him over her shoulder as he lags behind a couple of feet, wearing that stupid (devilish) smirk of his.

“Oh, you can.” He nods. “I just can’t picture it.”

There’s humour there, but Bucky can’t help stopping and standing to glare at him. “And why not?”

“You’re really asking me that?” Sam grins and wonders if one day, her adorable little scowl will be permanently glued to her face if she keeps wearing it so much.

“Well, I just did, didn’t I?” Her attitude is back again, but Bucky doesn’t care, because – what? She can't be nice?

...She can be nice!