Get A Room (Sequel to In Retrospect)
Someone needs to work on the mechanics of time travel portals is what Kate thinks as she is tossed out of another glowing circle of light into—a lab table?
“Hello, Ms. Bishop,” JARVIS’s cool voice is an overwhelming comfort. Like, it’s visceral; Kate doubles over as if she’s been gut-punched.
“How long?” she doesn’t even look up yet. “How long have I been gone?”
“You have been gone eight days, seven hours, and thirty-six minutes,” JARVIS informs her. “Mr. Stark has merely stepped out for lunch. I have informed him of your return; he will be here momentarily.”
“Thanks, JARVIS.”
Tony flings himself through the door. “I knew it!” His eyes have a manic glint to them. “I knew you’d be back, no problem!”
.
Kate has been hooked up to monitors and electrodes for what she considers to be too long but what JARVIS informs her is not quite an hour.
“Everything looks fine,” Tony is telling her and Hill—because apparently accidental time-travel warrants bosslady of SHIELD herself. “You’re giving off some strange readings—were you exposed to—I can’t believe I’m saying this—Vita-Rays?”
“Uh,” Kate swallows hard and looks down at her clothing—Steve’s pants, Bucky’s shirt. All the time she’d spent in Howard’s lab over the past two months—yeah, it’s not out of the realm of possibility. On the plus side, now she really doesn’t feel bad about breaking Howard’s nose.
“She’s back?” the sound of footsteps pounding into the room—wow, she’d forgotten just how big Steve is—with Clint hot on his heels.
“Hey, Katie-girl,” Clint hops up on the table next to her. “You okay? Nice clothes, by the way.”
“They’re Steve’s,” she finally looks up at the man in question, who is glaring down at her. “You were a lot smaller five minutes ago,” she informs him.
“Jesus Christ,” Captain America says.
“You okay, Steve?” Clint says over her head.
“Jesus Christ,” Steve repeats.
Somewhere down the hall, Kate hears a loud cry of “What?” and then, “Sergeant Barnes, please, you need to calm down—“
“I ain’t fuckin’ calmin’ down, lady. Sam, get the hell off me—“
And then the very distinct sounds of doors being slammed open—or, rather, doors being barreled into and opening regardless of their feelings on the matter.
Whatever happens, Kate tells herself, you can handle it. You are strong, and you will survive this. You’re fine. You can do this.
She thinks she might throw up; also, she’s lying to herself because there is no way she can do this.
Another loud thud and Bucky is in the lab.
He freezes, just staring at her, his eyes intense, jaw set in a hard line. She can’t tell—if he remembers her, or if he just knows that he should—
Nope, she can’t do this—she can’t move, either, pinned by his gaze and the way he still looks the same age but somehow looks ancient, stooped by decades of pain—
He takes a step towards her, then stops, and Kate would give anything to know what’s going on in his head right now.
“Kate,” he says, and he knows her, Jesus, Moses, Thor, Mary and all the saints, he knows her.
“Kate,” he repeats, like her name is being pulled from him, rough and painful and sharp, and it lances right through her, ripping his name from her lungs before she can stop it.
“Bucky,” it echoes in her, pinging off of her ribs; she just wants to say his name, Bucky, Bucky, Bucky, over and over because she’s filled with it, filled with love and pain for this man and if she starts, she’ll never stop.
“Kate.”
Each time he says her name it’s like a stab, like a caress, wounding her and warming her and making it hard to breathe. He’s close enough to touch now, towering over her, his hair falling into his face.
“Bucky?” the moment is so fragile, as if any words other than their names will shatter them.
She sees his smile for an instant before she grips his shirt and pulls him down enough to kiss him.
God, he tastes like metal and ice and Bucky, like Brooklyn and Moscow; Ferris wheels and bombed-out buildings; soldier and assassin, all Bucky, her Bucky, and she wants more so when his tongue touches on her lips she opens her mouth, catching his gasp. His hands cup her face, hot and cold and the sensation sends shivers down her spine as she reacquaints herself with the taste of his mouth and the shape of his lips and the new way he likes to bite, oh, that’s going to be fun.
Behind her Clint’s saying wait, what? But then Bucky’s flesh hand is dropping from her face to grip her ass and draw her closer.
“Kept me waiting a long time, doll,” he says against her lips, and she can feel his smirk when his fingers trail across his words and she gasps against his mouth.
“Sorry,” she mutters, squeezing his metal arm again and using her free hand to tug at the hem of his shirt. “Typically, I value punctuality above all else. Can this come off, like, now?” she yanks it past his abdomen until Tony’s voice breaks through her Bucky-induced fog.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, not in the lab, not in the lab,” he snaps. Kate and Bucky move almost in tandem, Kate to flip Tony off and Bucky to pull out his sidearm and aim it at them man. “Okay, sure, the lab is fine, the lab is fine,” Tony amends as Steve and Clint make scolding sorts of remarks, Kate’s not really sure because Bucky’s managed to hoist her up with one arm, giving her the leverage she needs to wrap her legs around his waist.
“You know,” Banner says with a forced casualness, “there are security cameras all over this lab. Just in case, you know, you didn’t want Tony to have a sex tape of you.”
“Think you can wait until we get to a room?” Kate pulls away, a little breathless. Bucky has an unfair advantage; supersoldier lungs need less oxygen.
“Kate,” Bucky starts, then kisses her for a bit more. “Been waiting seventy years. I think I can wait another three minutes.”
“Let’s try and make it two?” She grins at him, and he doesn’t even put her down, doesn’t tear his eyes away from her as he carries her to the elevator.