FROSTBITE | S. Rogers/B. Barnes (FINISHED)

Solid

"I can't believe you cut your hair," she said, racking her hand through his recently chopped locks before ruffling his new hairdo, "you look so different."

He pursed his lips while she touched him softly, standing on the tip of her freshly polished toes in order to reach the top of his head with her fingertips. He could smell himself, musk and gunpowder, and dried blood on his suit from the people he had to kill in order to keep the world safe from HYDRA and wondered briefly if she was repulsed by his scent. She didn't seem to notice, however, because she hadn't left his personal space since she first came up to him nearly ten minutes ago. If she did notice, she did one hell of a job of hiding her disgust from him.

"Yeah," he mused, "that was kinda the point, sweetheart. I didn't want any of those scumbags to recognize me. Hell, I'm glad I finally get to take the gloves off."

His brain was foggy, not only from the lack of sleep and the jet lag but also from seeing her again. He'd missed her more than he cared to admit, although if it were up to Sam, he didn't even have to admit it. That man knew it better than Bucky knew it himself.

Another pinch of salt and another teaspoon of brown sugar found their way inside the glass bowl on the countertop. She lowered the whisk down into the bowl and began to stir once more, incorporating the ingredients until they formed a unified, mushy whole. Her tongue smacked against her lips when she dipped the batter into her mouth for a taste, lips curving upwards into a broad smile when she realized the concoction was finally ready to be placed inside the mold. It was Bruce who recommended that she pick up baking as a distraction, although he mostly did it because he loved to eat the finished product. She wasn't quite sure at first, but eventually, Janie found great pleasure in decorating homemade cakes, cookies, and pies in the compounds' kitchen.

She grabbed the pie pan from the cupboard and began to knead the dough, pushing and pressing it against the sides and over the edges. She cut off whatever spilled over the top and tossed it in the bin, turning around and placing the pan in the fridge to chill for ten minutes. 

"What's this?" He asked, leaning over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of the cherry pie filling Janie had just finished mixing on top of the stove.

"It's for you guys," she said, "a welcome home gift. You got home too early, it was supposed to be done by the time you got back."

She wiped her hands off on her apron and used the back of her hand to wipe the hair that had fallen from the messy bun away from her face. The oven dinged, signaling the fact that the first pie was ready to come out.  

"I'm sure Sam can't wait to get a taste," he hummed in approval while Janie grabbed oven mitts, "Cherry's his favorite."

"Where is he, anyway?" She asked, a blush forming on her cheeks from how close he was standing.

She took the pie out of the oven, placing it on the countertop to cool. 

"Taking a shower probably, which is what I should be doing right now," "See you in a bit, yeah?"