Bucky snaps the cap on a fresh bottle of Jack Daniels and pours a tumbler full of whiskey. Draining the glass, he lets the liquid slosh in his mouth, savouring the sharp taste and the burn that follows. He won't get drunk, hasn't actually been drunk since 1943, but the idea of it still relaxes him. Sometimes that's enough.
He fills another glass and settles in for a long night.
Laptop balanced on his knees, he sits on the floor of the tower's dark common room and leans against the sofa. Empty silence surrounds him, broken periodically by the soft clicks of the keypad as he moves through article after article, reading everything you've ever written.
Blistering character summarizations of the Hydra Senators indicted. An analysis of the last G8 summit. Interviews conducted during the height of the 2010 Arab Spring. Projections on the long-term economic impacts of the 2008 market crash.
The scope of your writing is hugely varied, the passion behind everything clearly articulated in every carefully chosen word and turn of phrase. He has no problem admitting he's impressed.
He makes notes as he reads, and hours pass before he sets the laptop aside and picks up the case study SHIELD compiled, flicking it open. Bucky had it memorised after the first review, but he goes through it again, searching for anything that may spark a new clue. He skims your profile sheet, copies of the letters, the useless lab analysis Bernstein completed, profiles on the three Senators you unmasked.
The detailed summary of your history.
Bucky slows and reads that summary again. Feels a tug in his chest. Winces at the images he sees. He fiddles with the paperclip stuck to the back of the folder, unwinds it and curls it back again, buried deep in thought.
Finally, there in the middle of the night, he reaches a conclusion.
He'll have to approach this differently. This isn't a battle he wins with a stubborn attitude and loud voice. Now he's seen you in action, he knows how to hit the verbal battlefield and hold his own. Find those commonalities and connections between you to enable trust. Practice the patience he preaches.
Bucky scratches his chin absently, flips back to the front of the file, and he starts reading again. He swallows another glassful of whiskey.
And if his gaze lingers on your photograph longer than necessary, he chooses to ignore that fact.
*****
7:14: First day. Morning pick-up. On route to office.
You are so late. Tearing through your apartment, you throw things at random into a brown leather tote: phone, keys, gum, Snickers, laptop, last night's edited notes. Hopping on one foot as you slide on a pair of worn black flats, you tumble headfirst into the front door, growling as you give it a frustrated kick.
When the elevator reaches the lobby, you bolt from the doors as they slide open. Waving a distracted hello to the elderly woman sitting at the front desk, you sprint into the sidewalk, where you smash into the tall man blocking the front entrance.
"Excuse you," you mutter angrily, trying to side-step him.
"Good morning to you too." Bucky turns around with a smile, a travel mug of coffee in hand.
"Shitballs. Why the hell are you here?" you huff.
"I realize you were in quite the mood yesterday, but I explained this. I walk you to work, I pick you up from work," he answers patiently.
"You were being serious? You're really meeting me here every god damn morning?"
"Is it possible for you to get through a sentence without swearing?"
YOU ARE READING
Safe with me
Fanfiction"You call my name and I'll run to you. I'll always come for you. Do you understand? You're safe with me." When an unknown threat enters your life, protection is offered at the highest level. One catch. The man is infuriating. Finding a way to co-ex...
