Elevated

Nora didn’t hear back from Steve, but Bucky continued to show up in the lab for coffee. She was pretty sure he had no idea that Steve had talked to her and figured that was for the best. He didn’t need to feel bad that Steve had cornered her, or mad at Steve, or upset that she knew he was an internationally feared assassin.

They never made plans to go for coffee, but she set her lunch aside for it anyways. It was their thing and she found she looked forward to it. The list of coffee’s he had tried was getting long, and she was kind of worried about the fact that they were running out of latte flavours. She supposed maybe they’d work their way through plain coffee roasts, if only because she didn’t want to finish the list if it meant he’d decide they didn’t need to go anymore.

Bucky was still quiet, but he’d told her a handful of stories, usually in two sentences or less. She learned that he’d had a sister, and a dog. He used to box. He liked science fiction books. Occasionally he would tell her the title of a movie he’d seen or a book he had read. She would ask him how he liked it. Usually, he’d shrug. When he told her it was good, she knew he must really like it.

She filed it all away in her brain. If she hadn’t seen the movie she would watch it. He liked period pieces, but only if there wasn’t a war. He liked fantasy movies, and science fiction about exploration. He really liked Wall-E.

One afternoon after she’d told him a long story about her and Bruce trying to run all the micrometers at the same time and burning out the radioscope, Nora said, “Sorry. You must get really sick of me talking about the lab.”

Bucky nudged her the way he did when she was about to get run over by a bike and said, “No. I like it.”

The bike didn’t run her over, but she felt like she’d been knocked silly anyways.

“What’s with them?”

Bucky shrugged. Steve and Sam were still fighting, and it was becoming a problem. They were supposed to be sparring but instead they were sort of dancing around each other and not managing to do much of anything. Clint eyed them both with disapproval from where he and Bucky were slumped on a bench.

The two of them had sparred earlier and Bucky was still a little annoyed about Clint spilling the beans about his and Nora’s walks, but he managed not to take his head off.

“You still getting coffee with Nora?” Steve and Sam both went very still. Clint looked from Bucky to the sparring ring, his mouth falling open in surprise, “Oh. Fuck.”

It was very obvious, all of a sudden, what Steve and Sam were fighting about. Bucky frowned at them. He didn’t see why they should be fighting about his walks with Nora, “Yes.”

Steve and Sam together said, “You are?” but in very different tones, neither of which he could quite interpret.

Bucky scowled, “Yes.”

Sam gave Steve a hard look, who fidgeted. Clint seemed intensely aware he’d managed to fuck up everybody’s day again and was trying to disappear into the bench.

“Go on,” Sam demanded suddenly, “Tell him what you did.”

Steve blanched, “I didn’t- I don’t think-“

“No.” Sam said firmly, “You almost fucked things up, you’re gonna say you’re sorry.”

Horror was slowly dawning on Clint’s face. Bucky frowned at Steve. They seemed surprised he was still going for coffee with Nora, so they clearly thought something had happened and he wasn’t anymore. Steve had done something. He knew suddenly, exactly what Steve had done. The same slow horror on Clint’s face spread through his body. The thing in his chest seemed to grow an entirely new set of claws and was going straight for his heart.

“I just didn’t want you to get hurt, Buck.” Steve burst looking maybe as sorry as Bucky had ever seen him, “Clint said she didn’t even know who Natasha was and that she might not know you,” Clint shrunk a little further, “I didn’t want her to find out and be afraid and it be too late to-“ He choked on the end of his sentence, “I didn’t mean to fuck anything up! She didn’t even let me finish. She said she knew, and she kicked me out of the lab.”

“When?” It came out strangled. He was choking on his own shame. Steve didn’t answer, “When, Steve?”

“A couple weeks ago. I’m really sorry Bucky.” He looked really sorry.

It did very little for the thing in Bucky’s chest. Steve thought Nora needed to know he was a killer. Steve had told Nora. Nora knew. His heart hurt.

A couple weeks.

A couple weeks?

That wasn’t right.

“Weeks?” he asked. Steve nodded. He looked fucking miserable. Bucky thought he deserved to feel fucking miserable.

A couple weeks.

He’d seen Nora five times in the last two weeks. They went for coffee four times, and he rode the elevator to the lobby with her once. She had been, he thought, absolutely no different. When he got to the lab she didn’t hesitate to get her coat or Luna’s leash. She didn’t flinch when he steered her out of the way of bikes. She traded him cups and drank the chestnut latte he hadn’t liked very much. He’d tried not to think about that too hard and thought about it a lot. It was all the same.

But Bruce wasn’t the same. Bruce had stopped giving him that weird look when he got to the lab. He had started saying hello and waving when they left. Steve had said something to Nora, and Nora clearly said something to Bruce that made him stop being weird.

Bucky looked at Sam, “How’d you know?”

It was Sam’s turn to look a little guilty, “She texted me to tell Steve she was sorry she kicked him out. She said she knew he was trying to help.”

Nora thought Steve was trying to help. Had been mad enough to kick him out of the lab. Was behaving no differently.

She didn’t mind.

That was fucking absurd.

He stood up abruptly. Clint flinched. Steve and Sam both looked upset. Bucky ignored them. He crossed the gym and shouldered through the big double doors. He crossed the hall and called the elevator. He hit the button for the ninetieth floor. Darcy stared at him as he stalked down the hall to the lab and he ignored her. The big vault door whooshed open and he stepped inside.

Bruce wasn’t there, but it was still early. Nora had said that he didn’t get there until after her most days. She was slumped over her table, spinning her pen in one hand and scrolling through a bunch of data on her tablet with the other.

“Hey Bruce,” she said, “I dunno about these helostat numbers, they seem pretty fishy.”

“Not Bruce,” He said.

Nora’s pen flipped out of her hand and they watched it skitter away across the floor, “Aw nuts.” She muttered, frowning after it. Then she spun her chair to face him as he crossed the tile floor to her table, “Hi Bucky. You’re a little early today.” She blinked at him, a strange expression crossing her face.

He stopped dead. The horrible, clawed thing yanked hard at his sternum. Suddenly he couldn’t breathe.

“Did you just come from the gym?” She sounded confused. When he didn’t answer she frowned and pushed up from her chair, “Hey, what’s wrong?” She took four steps across the lab floor and reached for him with her right hand.

Automatically, Bucky gave her his left.

Nora took it, but she didn’t look at it. She was looking at his face instead, frowning. Bucky looked at her hand. Pale, delicate fingers curled around black metal.

“Bucky?” Her voice was soft. Worried.

“I’m okay.” And he was. The claws in his chest shrunk. She didn’t mind his hand. She held it like it belonged to anyone else. Like it wasn’t a weapon. Like it hadn’t hurt anyone. He had to ask, suddenly, “Is it cold?”

Nora looked confused for a second, then she glanced down at their hands twined together, “No, it’s alright.”