gorgeous gams | darcy/bucky, time travel
When some weird black hole right out of science fiction literally picked him up out of his cot and spat him out in some twisted version of heaven, Bucky had only one thing to say to the person who found him.
“If I knew all the angels looked like Vargas pin-ups, I would’ve gone to church every damn day of my life,” he said dizzily, smiling dopily at the blue-eyed brunette standing in front of him in little more than a brasserie and panties before falling unconscious to the sound of screaming.
Funny, he thought to himself before passing out. Is that supposed to happen?
When he woke up, he found himself not in heaven, but in a chair – tied to a chair, to be exact. The girl from before was nowhere to be found, and instead he was questioned brusquely by a towering blonde man with biceps the size of his head and a scrap of a woman who looked like you could blow her over in a second flat.
He’d said nothing, of course – just repeated his last name and serial number over and over again, until he’d made some stupid, snappy remark about Captain America that had the broad freezing in place.
“Captain America… Barnes?” the woman choked a little, eyes bulging. “As in, James Buchanan Barnes?”
He could feel the blood leave his face when the woman turned on her heel and nearly ran out of the room, his heart sinking in his chest. When she came back, it was with that gorgeous dame in tow, holding some sort of thin metal sheet in her hands and… tapping it?
“Christ on a cracker… it’s actually him.” Bucky couldn’t stop staring, even though he knew he was as good as dead, now that they knew who he was – but hell, even Stevie wouldn’t blame him, the girl was a goddamn sheba, even if her figure was hidin’ under all those layers – but when she flipped the metal sheet over he was graced with an image of his face – his and Stevie’s, smiling wide back at him.
“If you’re gonna kill me, make it quick, doll,” he said, watching warily as the broad approached him, tensing as she traded the metal sheet for a switchblade from the table beside her. When she just raised an eyebrow in reply, he couldn’t help but grin at her cheekily, saying, “Least I got to see those gorgeous gams of yours before I go.”
To his surprise and satisfaction, her mouth curled up slightly, before a laugh broke from those red, red lips. “Seriously?” she asked, giggling, and he stared back at her quizzically. “You’re not nearly as smooth as he said you were.” He had no time to think about what that could mean as she leant down, cutting through his bindings in quick, efficient movements before flipping the blade closed and holding out a hand to him.
“Decided you ain’t gonna off me, then?” Bucky asked, rubbing his wrists a little, and the girl laughed again, so loud and bright and deep that he swore fell just a little bit in love.
“And risk Captain America’s wrath? No thanks.” She grinned when he took her hand, hauling him up with surprising strength. “I’m Darcy, by the way – remember the little people who interrogated you when you get pulled into SHIELD like your buddy.”
He looked at her blankly. “… What?”
“Nevermind,” she said, waving his question off. “Here, you can look at the news while you wait for the Cap to get here – just don’t get a heart attack.” She handed him a newspaper, a souped up version of Daily Mail he remembered seeing around London when he first arrived in Europe. Feeling a little less like a fish out of water with Steve on his way over, Bucky scanned the headlines and front pages, reading about wars and conflicts and problems in places he’d never even heard of, before his eye was drawn to the little line printed at the top of the page.
December 7th, 2014.
“Welcome to the future, Sergeant Barnes.” He looked up at Darcy, gaping a little, and she smirked, all trouble and mischief. “Dorothy ain’t in Kansas anymore.”