The Sharpest Lies [Bucky x ReaderxSteve]

Thirty-three

"Hey, kid."

Peter looks up at the call to see Bucky at the railing to his office. "Yeah?"

"Can you come up here for a mo'?"

He didn't wait for an answer, and Peter set down his computer to jog over to the steps and up. Bucky is already sitting at his desk when Peter steps into the office. "What's up, boss?"

"I know you're in the middle of setting up for tonight, but I was hoping you could do me a favor for me.

"Sure thing."

A ghost of a smile plays over Bucky's face, amusement at Peter's instant agreement without even knowing what he wanted. The kid was as loyal as a labrador and about as energetic.

"I need you to go to a pharmacy and pick up a pregnancy test for me."

Peter blanches, his eyes popping out of his head as he stammers, "I–um–wha–sir?"

"Pregnancy test," Bucky repeats, sipping at the drink he'd poured hours ago. "Actually, I think it would be best if you get a few."

"Um–"

"Relax kid, it's not like I'm asking you to kill someone."

His face turns red and he mutters, "That would probably be easier."

"If you'd rather I can have someone else do it?"

"No, sir, I can do it. I'll go right now."

~*~*~*~

Bucky walks into the living room in time to hear the tail end of a lively debate between you and Clint.

"Are you kidding me?" you are saying. "Triangle is the best. Every piece has a handle. Otherwise you get sauce on your fingers when you eat the middle parts."

"Pft. Use a fork then."

"That is sacrilege in this house!"

"Are you really gonna sit there and tell me that you eat a deep dish with your fingers?"

"No, I don't like deep dish."

Clint gasps dramatically, slapping a hand over his heart. "How dare you!"

"Are you guys really sitting here arguing about pizza?" Bucky asks.

The two of you over at him and then at each other before you both say, "Yes."

"And did you hear your girl here hates deep dish?" Clint adds.

"Hey!" you shove his leg with your foot. "I didn't say I hate it. I said I don't like it."

"Potato tomato, it's the same thing," Clint says, pushing to stand up. He tugs playfully on your hair on his way towards the exit. "I'm telling you boss, as a native New Yorker, I'm not sure you can marry a gal who doesn't like the deep dish."

It makes Bucky snort as he shakes his head. "Good night Clint."

The moment he's gone, Bucky comes around the back of the couch and drops the brown bag he's holding in your lap. You look at him with surprise. "A gift?"

"Not exactly," he answers, sitting down and pulling your feet into his lap so he can press his thumbs into your arch. It makes you groan a little. "Go on, open it."

The bag crinkles as you pull it open and look inside it. Your eyebrows nearly shoot up as your head jerks up. "What is this?"

"Pregnancy tests."

You scoff and roll your eyes. "No shit, Sherlock. Why did you give me a bag full of pregnancy tests?"

"Because I want you to pee on a stick," Bucky says lightly, pulling your other foot into his lap to give it the same treatment as the first.