Elevated

Thor came back. For a few days, Jane didn’t come to the lab at all, and neither did Darcy. According to the latter, there was no point until Jane was ready to work again, so she was enjoying her time off. Nora got selfies of her in several of New York’s most tourist trappy locations. She was a little jealous, because she hadn’t been to any of them since moving to the city, and because she wasn’t the kind of person to do much of anything on her own. Darcy was brave in a way that Nora didn’t think she herself was.

Then, both women were suddenly back and working almost constantly. Jane was apparently good at math again and they had a lot of catching up to do.

Thor came to Bruce’s lab often, asked how their work was going, didn’t understand the answers, and then took Luna for walks or to hang out at his apartment and watch movies. Nora didn’t mind, she was glad her dog was getting extra attention. Occasionally, Thor would gripe when he returned her, that she loved Bucky best.

About a week after the first time and on a day that Thor didn’t come to collect Luna, Nora ran into Bucky alone in the elevator again. He was dressed in a nearly identical outfit to the first time and she asked again if he wanted to go to the Spruce. He agreed with a nod. She wasn’t entirely sure if his meeting her in the elevator was a coincidence or not, but she’d decided that he liked her.

“Damn,” She muttered when they got outside. She offered Bucky Luna’s leash and he took it. She wedged her hands into her pockets, “I keep forgetting my gloves. I hate winter.”

Bucky stopped dead on the sidewalk. She made it three paces before she realized and turned to look at him. He was looking at her with the same expression as always, but his eyebrows were a little pinched. Nora glanced over her shoulder, then back at him, “What?”

It was the sort of question that required more than one word to answer so, predictably, he didn’t. Instead, he started walking again and they were off down the road.

“Thor keeps complaining to me that Luna loves you best.” She glanced at him and the look on his face was almost a smile, but not quite.

She ordered a mocha and a vanilla latte and made him try the latte first. Then she pulled up the note on her phone to show him and asked, “Where does it rank?”

He considered the list, glanced at her, looked at the list again, and said, “Two.”

Nora clicked her tongue and nodded. She added it to the list under the mocha, shoved her phone back in her pocket, and traded him cups.

Tony came back from Malibu and they all spent four hours trying to figure out what exactly it was making the Coolidge machine recalibrate itself to a universe they definitely didn’t live in. They didn’t get anywhere, and Tony annoyed her greatly. Nora was distracted by it all week.

She was starting to get pretty good at the pen twirling thing she thought, but when the door slid open at noon a few days later, she still flung it halfway across the lab. Bruce, Bucky and Nora all watched it disappear under the stack of servers in the corner. Luna did not and raced to Bucky’s feet instead.

“Hi Bucky.” Nora greeted. She glanced at the clock, “You here to grab a coffee?”

Bucky glanced at Bruce, then nodded. Bruce looked at Bucky, and then at Nora, with a strange kind of expression on his face.

“Want anything Bruce?” She grabbed Luna’s leash from her desk and crossed the lab to clip it to her collar, handing it immediately to Bucky after she did.

“No,” He answered, but it sounded like a question. Nora figured she’d better bring him a cookie or something.

On the way down the street she told Bucky about how annoying Tony had been while they were trying to figure out the Coolidge problem. She knew he probably had no idea what the machine was for, or why it mattered that it was being weird, but he didn’t seem to mind her talking about it. Or he did but wasn’t willing to tell her to shut up.

She ordered a mocha, a caramel macchiato, and a chocolate chip cookie for Bruce. She gave Bucky the macchiato first. She was still pulling up the list on her phone when he said, “One.”

She glanced at him in surprise, “Really?” He nodded, “Nice. That’s good progress. Next time we’ll try the toffee-nut.” She drank the mocha and was glad he hadn’t liked the americano, because she hated bitter coffees. She could’ve worked her way through the spectrum of drip coffee roasts and unsweetened espressos, but it wouldn’t have been very fun.

Bucky realized, that her comment about his gloves, wasn’t about his left hand. It was about the fact that it was winter. People got cold in the winter. So, they wore gloves.

He wondered, sitting on the couch in the lounge with Luna (and Steve and Thor), if she didn’t mind his hand. She didn’t seem to mind a lot of things. His one word answers, his indecision, his inability to manage a smile. He thought she probably should. And if she didn’t, he thought he should mind for her.

But now that he’d done it; set his feet to the elevator at noon and ridden down to her lab, he was having a hard time staying away. For the first time he managed to walk into the lab without anyone telling him to do it. Bruce had looked uncomfortable, but Nora knew why he was there. He thought briefly, when she wasn’t at the elevator, that maybe he’d made a mistake. That she wasn’t planning to go, or didn’t want to, or was done with him. But she clipped Luna’s leash and handed it to him, easy as anything.

On the days Thor borrowed the dog and she spent the afternoon in the lounge, Bucky found himself annoyed. Irritated and not entirely sure why, because he liked to sit on the couch with the little dog. He’d sit and watch whatever movie Thor put on, and glance at the elevator at noon, and not be quite sure why his stomach hurt.

On the days Thor didn’t borrow the dog, he would dodge Steve and Sam (They’d ask where he was going or they’d want to come and he didn’t want either of those things) and get in the elevator. He’d take it the handful of stories to the lab. Darcy sometimes noticed and she would watch him as he crossed the long hallway. He pretended he didn’t see her.

Bruce continued to be surprised when he showed up, and Nora continued to not. She’d get her coat, and her bag, and pass him Luna’s leash. She’d tell him in the elevator and on the way down the road about their experiments, or the movie she’d watched, or how Tony had come into the lab and bothered her (he really wished Tony would fuck off). She’d tell him about something funny Darcy had said, or how she ran into Clint in the lobby, or how Sam had texted her (he wished Sam would fuck off too). She didn’t mind that he had nothing to tell her in return.

Nora always ordered two drinks. Something new she’d make him try, and his favourite from the list she kept on her phone in case he didn’t like it. He tried toffee-nut, hazelnut, and cinnamon lattes. He tried a peppermint mocha, which he didn’t like at all. He tried a London fog, which she said was really tea, which was good. His new favourite was maple. He tried not to think about how when he didn’t like a drink, she’d trade him and drink from the same cup he had.

He thought about it a lot.

“Where have you been?”

Bucky recognized his mistake the second he walked into the lounge. He should have wasted time in his apartment first. He scowled. It was too late now. He shrugged out of his coat and tossed it on the back of the couch. Steve and Clint were in the kitchen cooking something that smelled familiar somehow, but he didn’t think he could name. Sam was sitting at the island not helping. It was better that way, he was a terrible cook. Clint was surprisingly good at it. Bucky thought there must be a crossover between chef skills and one’s ability to wield a knife in a fight.

“You go for coffee with Nora?” Clint asked. He was facing the stove stirring something and didn’t even have the decency to notice that he’d dropped a bomb in the middle of the kitchen.

Sam’s face lit up in the way that said he was about to give Bucky shit. The knife Steve was using to cut a pepper slipped, and got his finger instead, “Ow- shit.”

Clint turned, frowning. He looked at Steve, who was holding his hand and staring at Bucky, then Sam with his shit eating grin, then at Bucky who was seriously considering murdering him. His expression shifted as he recognized his mistake, “Fuck. Sorry.”

“How often,” Sam began, “Do you get coffee with Nora?”

Bucky scowled a little harder. He knew the answer but he wasn’t going to fucking tell Sam.

“You don’t even like coffee,” Sam continued.

“I like it,” Bucky said, hoping that Sam would shut up.

“Okay, what do you order?”

Bucky didn’t answer that one, because he didn’t order. He thought he might like to punch Clint, who looked extremely apologetic and was wincing at Sam’s questions. Steve looked so surprised Bucky thought a light breeze might knock him over.

Sam clearly realized Bucky wasn’t going to give him any information and whirled on Clint, “How did you know he gets coffee with Nora?”

Clint flinched, surveyed Bucky warily and answered, “Darcy mentioned it the other day.”

Right. That had been Bucky’s mistake. Darcy talked to everyone about everything. He should’ve known she would be a loose end. He frowned. It wasn’t like he could have done anything about it.

Sam yanked his phone out of his pocket, “I’m texting her.”

Bucky swiveled, leveling a threatening finger in Sam’s direction, “Don’t.” The phone went away very slowly, but the shit-eating grin stayed. Bucky stalked back to the elevator.