Triggers

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Natasha had been feeling particularly bored on the day when things went to hell. Her morning consisted of the usual; a quick workout, a run that left her legs shaking because she always went a mile or more too long, and a quick shower before the daily team meeting. All before 6am. Today, she strolled casually into the kitchen to grab breakfast when she realized that she had forgotten all about it, though it wasn't necessarily unusual for her to do. She paused, looking around the room behind her, and taking a glance out the door into the hallway, trying her best to not look suspicious as she snatched the last chocolate chip muffin from the basket at the center of the table. She hummed to herself in contentment, the first bite always the best, and it was a treat that she rarely allowed herself.

"Hey, Nat!"

"I wasn't eating it!" she answered in surprise, her mouth full with puffed out cheeks and crumbs falling from her lips as she dropped the muffin quickly into the basket again.

"Clearly," Clint snickered with a grin, but it was short-lived. "Grab it to go, there's no time." He turned to run back down the hallway and towards the hangar bay, leaving her to chase after him and to forget all about the half-eaten breakfast that she left behind for someone to give her a hard time about later.

"Barton! Wait! Where are we going? What happened?"

"Steve's got a distress call from Barnes and (Y/N). He's giving us two minutes before he goes on his own, and I'm pretty sure that's a terrible idea to let him."

~~~

Bucky had been feeling particularly lucky in his life on the day when things went to hell. He should have known better to consider that the feeling could last as he stood by your side, holding your hand while you spent far too long deciding on a flavor of ice cream for the two of you to share. He didn't mind, though; it gave him time to watch you, to appreciate things that he had never noticed in you before. He felt like an idiot when his lips curled just slightly when you smiled, not even looking in his direction. He was sure he had lost his mind when he knew what you were going to say before the words could find your voice, and his own thoughts began to mimic yours. Steve would call him gone over you, and Bucky was perfectly content in losing himself there.

"Buck?"

"Hmm?" he mumbled softly, still staring.

"I said, is chocolate okay?"

"Oh...yeah! Sorry! I was just thinkin'."

"About what?"

"How chocolate is perfect," he smiled, giving your hand a small squeeze. He reached into his pocket with his open hand, tossing a few bills onto the street vendor's cart before taking the filled cone that was given in return. He turned and held the snack up for you to taste first, his eyes eager to take in every subtlety of your reaction. "You first, doll."

You were just about to accept his offer when something caught your eye behind him. It was a quick movement that could have easily been played off as a trick that your eyes were playing on you, but it didn't feel that way. Your nerves came to life and your skin was crawling at whatever it was. Bucky was quick to pick up on the change when your demeanor shifted, turning to look at what had taken your attentions from him, tossing the cone into a nearby garbage when he suddenly felt the same as you were.

"Come on, we need to move," he commanded quietly, but his voice was stern.

"Yeah, good call."

As calmly as he could, despite his anxiety pulsing through his body, he slipped his hand around the phone in his pocket as you walked, trying to remember the exact placement of the keys on the screen so that he could get a message out to Steve. He had promised himself that he would reserve this call for desperate needs, and when his mind was moving his fingers without conscious effort, he knew this was the time. "We should get out of sight."

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