Hook
You woke up to the sunlight tickling your nose. James woke up stunned that he had slept at all, and slept so well at that, not a single disturbing image invading his dreams in the hours in between. It had been the first time in living memory. (The fact that he woke up without a face full of red-orange fur was also nice.) Your hands were still intertwined, and your bodies curled towards each other as if to shut out the world around.
Actually, you woke up first, finding yourself face to face closely with an uncharacteristically peaceful looking James, his lips slightly parted and breathing evenly. You couldn’t quite tell why you had latched onto him so vehemently the night before, refusing to put a name on your motivations in keeping him close, but sooner or later you would have to confront the fact that you had actually, despite all your spiteful assurances to the contrary, developed feelings other than friendship for him. ‘No I don’t.’ You couldn’t deny it forever. ‘Watch me.’ Deep feelings. Very deep and tender feelings. ‘Shut up.’
“Thank you,” he spoke softly. You had not noticed him opening his eyes over your internal ruminations. “Thank you for refusing to give up on me.”
Now all you could do was stare at him dumbfounded, with his tousled hair and sleepy eyes and small smile and husky morning voice that sounded so sincere, wondering, briefly, whether it was actually possible for your internal organs to turn to mush because that’s what they felt like at this very moment.
“You’re …welcome?” you chanced uncertainly, completely unequipped to respond coherently. Your own voice sounded alarmingly odd to you.
“I mean it. I know I wouldn’t be here without you. I can never repay this debt I owe you. I just… I just want you to know that I’m grateful.” He raised your entwined hands to his lips, pressing a simple yet lingering kiss to your knuckles. You thought you could feel your heart temporarily lose its rhythm, skipping a beat or two in between, then rushing to return to an even pace. You moved up your free hand and used it to brush his hair out of his face before resting it on his cheek lightly. He leaned into your touch with eyes closed contentedly, reminding you very much of Becky cat as he did so. You were suddenly acutely aware of how close you were, your noses almost touching. He bit his lips nervously, a habit he’d picked up or rediscovered – you had no way of knowing which – over the last few weeks. You found yourself moved by a nameless, irresistible force to close the miniscule gap between you, pressing your lips on his.
Or you would have done just that, had not two simultaneous yet unrelated events disrupted your course of action. The one was James opening his eyes again, intense crystalline blue gaze holding you captive and making your breath catch in the back of your throat. The second was the sudden shrill ringing of your phone.
“Jesus H. Fucking Christ this had better be important!” you growled, breaking away and snatching the phone. Though part of you was glad for the distraction from what could have quickly turned into a very awkward situation most of you was not, and if this was someone from work calling you to ask for help in dealing with their own ineptitude you were absolutely going to bite their head off. It was the weekend after all.
It was not any colleague seeking to incur your wrath, but Skye. Informing you that she was going on a lengthy mission and wouldn’t be able to call for at least a week, probably two. Not exactly the kind of news you relished when the two of you had just managed to repair your relationship but since she was off making things difficult for HYDRA who were you to disagree? James made a soft noise of appreciation next to you when you said as much. Skye froze on the other end before speaking again, her voice sounding suspicious when she did.
“________, do you have a man in your bed with you? Please tell me you’re not back together with Mister Fucktrumpet the Cheating Bastard.”
“No-“ you said vaguely, half amused at the charming nickname for your previous boyfriend. “How do you even know I’m still in bed?” you then tried to deflect the rest of the question. She snorted.
“Please, it’s before nine on a Saturday. Where else would you be? Besides, I know your ‘I just woke up’ voice. Too well for it to be considered comfortable, actually. Let’s not get into that.”
“Yeah, let’s not.” You agreed hastily. “Well then, good luck on your mission, give ‘em hell, don’t get shot, report back in when you’re back, okay?”
“Will do. Have fun with your boy toy, ________. You deserve a few good…”
“Yes, bye. Love ya!” you interjected quickly and the line disconnected just after she said her good-bye’s back. You looked down at your now silent phone with mild affront.
“Punk ass kid.” You muttered with a smirk. “I took a bullet for her once, can you believe that?” James perked up, alarmed at once.
“What? Where? …How?” You waved it off.
“It was only a flesh wound. I already told you how our orphanage wasn’t exactly in the best of areas, right? Just a mugging gone south, no big deal.” You shrugged non-committally, pulling up the hem of your dress to show him the small, round scar on your thigh. He reached out his hand to inspect it, brushing his thumb over the raised skin lightly. His brows knit together tightly in concern.
“I’m sorry.” He breathed. You waved it off with a small laugh, but the sound caught in your throat when you realized that he was half-kneeling on the bed in front of you, warm hand high on your leg, and your faces just as close again as earlier when Skye’s phone call had interrupted you from probably making a damn fool of yourself. The heat rose to your cheeks.
“Waffles or pancakes?” you blurted out, forcibly tearing your eyes away from his gorgeous, soft lips and quickly scrambling off the bed before the situation could get any more awkward, or worse, lead you to do anything you might regret.
James snapped out of his daze, quickly retracting the hand that had been gently caressing your thigh just a heartbeat ago. What had gotten into him? He tried to put on a neutral expression as he stood up and straightened his crumpled shirt, purposefully avoiding your eyes. He mumbled that he would make pancakes and whether or not you wanted to shower in the meantime or after. You decided that a shower right now sounded like a really good idea, perhaps a nice cold one.
---
Steve stepped into the elevator after Sam, subtly leaning against the back wall as it took them up to Maria Hill’s office. The mission with Agent Triplett, while successful in its own way, definitely in so far as anger management was concerned, hadn’t yielded any results concerning Bucky’s whereabouts. He was determined to pester Hill until she’d let them look through the Stark Industries personnel files and he was beyond caring about things like privacy infringements at this point.
“Capsicle!” a voice sounded as soon as the elevator doors slid open. Steve winced even before the owner of the voice could appear in the hallway, and as soon as he did, he began firing off a barrage of words that left Steve reeling worse than some of the shelling he’d experienced during the war.
“Christ, you look awful. When’s the last time you slept properly? Coz it doesn’t look like that was anytime this century. Hey Superbird!” Sam grinned tiredly at the remark, trotting behind Steve as he followed behind Stark down the hall. “How’d the mission go? Hope you kicked some HYDRA ass. I shouldn’t even know that. Guess you didn’t find anything about good ol’ Uncle Buck or you’d look happier. Not supposed to know about that either… Anyway, now that you’re here I need you to…” Steve zoned out after that, attempting instead to formulate a get-away plan that would be both swift and inoffensive, but before he could even open his mouth Tony had steered them both down a wrong turn and into a room that didn’t look like it had been intended to be a lab but ended up as one anyway. Steve sighed inwardly, glad that they’d showered and changed before coming here. He clutched the folder holding all their research a bit closer to his side as Tony began going into the specifics of some mechanism. He neither understood nor cared to try at present.
“Tony, we really…” he started, trying to sound like missing a few hours of incomprehensible technobabble was a genuine regret when the sound of clacking heels interrupted them.
“Tony!” Pepper Potts said, looking snazzy as ever in a tailored blouse and skirt.
“Pep!” the engineer beamed, immediately abandoning his machinery to greet her.
“Captain Rogers and Mr Wilson aren’t here to see you, Tony.” She scolded him gently. He gave her a look like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. To no avail, but you had to give the man credit for perseverance. Steve set the folder down on the counter, too tired to notice a handful of photos and notes slipping halfway out.
“We really should go. Agent – Miss Hill is waiting for us already.” He said, plaintively eyeing the half-full coffee pot on a sideboard some feet over. Sam behind him was less subtle, letting out a long yawn. Pepper strode over decisively.
“Don’t you worry about that; I already told her you’ve been whisked away to the engineer’s den. She’ll be here any moment.” She gave them a sympathetic smile, simultaneously managing to ask how their search was going while wordlessly motioning for Tony to pour them some coffee. Steve and Sam recounted their latest mission briefly, purposely leaving out the more unsavory parts.
“And no sign of Sergeant Barnes’ whereabouts? I was so shocked to hear that this was what is at the heart of your search, and only yesterday.” Pepper inquired, hands absently skimming across the countertop, slightly jostling the folder Steve had put there earlier. Steve took a sip of his coffee and shook his head sullenly. JARVIS patched through to let them know that Maria Hill had been delayed, breaking the flow of the conversation for a moment. Steve still looked to the ceiling reflexively whenever the AI’s voice rang out, and had done so again now. When he looked back he saw Pepper staring at an old photo that had slid out of the folder. She looked positively transfixed, tentatively reaching for the faded paper and pulling it out all the way. It was one of the last ones taken of Bucky before the war, some weeks after he’d come home from basic training but before shipping out. It showed him with the older of his two sisters in Mrs Barnes’ den, both of them smiling as they sat on the bench in front of the piano.
“Is that him?” Pepper asked quietly, voice oddly flat. Tony stopped fidgeting with a screwdriver and whatever piece of machinery he’d picked up sometime before and came closer, throwing a closer look at the photo.
“You look live you’ve never seen him before. Your dad must have had boxes full of photos from the war.” Steve remarked, noting the slight wince on Tony’s face at the mention of Howard.
“Yeah, he didn’t exactly put those up around the house.” Tony murmured, now looking more concerned with Pepper who was still peering intently at the photo.
“And the footage from DC wasn’t exactly a well of quality close-ups.” Tony remarked, sounding disgruntled. No doubt he’d applied every conceivable enhancing software to said footage, but apparently his efforts had been rather fruitless.
“And before you ask, textbook pictures are very grainy.” Sam piped up. “To be honest I didn’t really know exactly what you looked like before.”
Steve gave him a look that was half incredulous and half mortified before turning back to Pepper.
“Miss Potts?” he asked cautiously.
“Is there any family? Nephews? Grand-nephews?” she asked, trying very visibly to make sense of a conundrum apparent only to her.
“Not that I know of. There’s a great-niece. She has a couple of kids but they’re, well, kids.”
“Pep, what’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Tony said, sounding genuinely concerned.
“You know how I was in DC last weekend?”
“For the Med summer party? Yeah. Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say.”
“I met this man there.” She stated, more calmly than Steve would have anticipated, while Tony cursed under his breath. Steve’s throat went very tight.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“He looked a bit older, but no more than a few years. The hair was a bit shorter on top, but otherwise, yes, I am sure.” She had paled considerably and now sank down on one of
the stools by the counter, still holding up the photo. Steve mirrored her action, not sure that his legs would support him at the moment.
“Wow.” He said.
“Wow.” Pepper echoed weakly.
Sam made an indistinct noise that might have been exasperation and might have been triumph and probably was some kind of mixture.
“How on earth does a brainwashed assassin on the run get himself invited to an office party of my company?” Tony exclaimed, amending an ‘our company’ after a look from Pepper.
“He was Miss ________’s plus one.” She explained weakly, her expression having morphed into something equal parts disbelieving and scandalized, like she just found out her only daughter was secretly dating the local teenage delinquent.
“But he was so polite…” she muttered.
“JARVIS, pull up the personnel file.” Tony ordered curtly. “I feel like I should know things like which of my employees like harboring fugitives. It might come in handy.” He looked to the others for praise but Pepper was too busy computing the fact that she’d chatted amiably with a notorious assassin, Steve looked like he had frozen again and Sam looked summarily unimpressed as he poured himself another mug of coffee.
“This was actually one of our most promising traces. I only need to see a picture of this Miss _______ to corroborate it.” He informed the billionaire.
“I feel like there’s a longer story here, and I want to be told all of it within the hour.” Tony replied, then picked up a wayward screw and tossed it at Steve, hitting his shoulder and startling him back to attention. “Shouldn’t you look more relieved?”
Steve gave him a look. Tony responded with an overly theatrical flinch before calling out to his AI again.
“I have uploaded the requested files to your tablet and opened them.” JARVIS informed them. “I have also taken the liberty of collecting any photos and videos taken at the party.”
“Thanks Jarv, you’re a gem. Let’s see it.”