puppet | barnes

1.0

1.1

R O S A L I N D M c G U I R E
" c a r e f u l , i ' l l b i t e "
telekinetic

~

She flipped the page with one hand, and with the other she grasped an invisible tea kettle handle and poured it into an invisible tea cup.

She tapped its nonexistent side with two fingers and a ceramic tea cup floated to her from the kitchen.

Her hand gripped the actual handle when it was close enough, and she tore her eyes away from the article about crystal caves in North America to admire her cup of chamomile tea.

Closing her eyes, she smelled it's sweet but sharp perfume and listened to the light rain outside. Due to their shared apartment location, traffic noise wasn't really an issue. The rain was letting up.

She opened her eyes, a serene upturn to her lips.

Soon after finishing the tea and sending the cup back, she finished the article. She had just closed it when the door to the apartment opened.

~

1.2

"Hey, Rosy," he said. He had a cut in the soft of his left cheek, and he smelled like cigarettes. His demeanor didn't match his rough exterior, but, then again, he always seemed to forget the day when he saw her.

"Bucky," she said warily, getting up, "What happened?" She waved her hand back, and the blanket folded and draped itself on the back of the couch.

She took and turned his stubbly chin to get a better view at the cut — which was more than a scratch.

"Some asshole stole this old lady's purse..." He protested with an: "I'm fine Rosy, really."

But she already had their first aid kit on the coffee table.

She pulled him over while he took off his bag, shoes, and coat. She sat him on the couch and herself on the table in front of him.

He watched her carefully as she cleaned the spot.

"He had a knife. Are you sure it was just a purse robber?" She looked from the cut to his eyes — dark and tired compared to her bright and young ones.

He looked down and set his hand on one of her knees. She set the first aid things down.

"We, uh..."

She took his chin and pulled it up to look at her.

"We know where Tony and his sympathizers are."

"And where's that?"

~

1.3

"This is crazy."

She paced the floor of his room while he packed his go-bag. He sat at the foot of his bed to pull on his boots.

"That's why you're staying here, where it's safe. You'll drink your tea and read your books and take as many more 'sick days' as you need until I'm home again. You'll be where it isn't crazy, Rosy."

"Quit that."

"What?" He stopped and looked at her. She stood, arms crossed and foot tapping.

"The whole 'my safety is more important than your life' thing. You're not allowed to. You can't keep me in a tower while you go and try to kill the tin man and the courageous lion without me, Dorothy." She hinted at a certain Stark and kitty.

"I don't get the reference—"

She sat next to him. "Buck, you're not allowed to price my life higher than yours. We're stuck in a standoff of selflessness and I'm tired of it. I'm not a damsel. I'm a partner in crime. Got it?"

He sighed and looked her over.

"Got it," he grumbled. "Pack only what you need."

~

1.4

"We'll have to crash-course train you," he noted absently. She watched him as he drove, one hand draped on the wheel and the other doing the work.

"I think I can hold my own," she pointed. "Maybe not against you..." She thought for a second. "So who cut you?"

"It's a long story."

"So tell me. We have a bit."

He laughed. "Steve thought it'd be a good idea to break into Tony's tower to see if we could find any information. We did, but we didn't walk away without finding some fists and knives in the face, too."

He looked at her, a brow cocked and a smirk on his face. "Chin up, kid. It could've been a lot worse. I get to stick around a little longer, y'know, to worry you."

She rolled her eyes and smiled lightly at his childishness. He looked back to the road. He rested his right arm on the middle console. She reached and his warm hand entangled with hers.

"I'm glad you're okay," a whisper.

"Me too," a reply. He smiled as he said it. She rubbed her thumb on his hand in light circles.

The truck slowed down. Rosalind noticed they were in a neighborhood beneath the interstate bridges above, leading in to the city.

She felt a little less safe and warm, especially upon letting go of his hand.

It was incredibly empty — ghostly even. Had they really just been in the teeming and vibrant city a few moments ago?

~

1.5

"Steve's safe house," Bucky explained.

"Oh."

"I can go in, if you want to stay in the car..."

"I'll go in. I'm brave, remember?"

"Right. 'Partners'," he mentioned it lightly. "Want a knife?"

"Badly, yes."

He handed her a small dagger, concealable enough. "Be safe."

"I will be," she hoped. "If I'm not out in five...?"

"I'll come in."

"Good. Okay. Well, I should—" She opened the door and hopped out. She looked around, half expecting someone and half hoping no one would surface.

She approached the door and knocked twice.

It opened, a swift hand stealing her wrist and dragging her in. In the car, Bucky laughed and mumbled, "Oh, Natasha. You'll like her."