Elevated

For the first time in a while, Bucky met Nora in the lab and they went for coffee.

She’d seen him every day and sent him a dozen or so texts (and gotten a half dozen replies) but she was still thrilled. It was their thing and Nora loved it. She didn’t even mind the elevator ride anymore as long as he was on it too.

A lot of things about their walk were the same. He met her in the lab and helped her with her coat. He took Luna’s leash and they went to sit on the patio at the Spruce. He got a maple latte and she got caramel.

A lot was different too. The second the elevator doors closed he pulled her in for a kiss that lingered. It was an entirely new way to be distracted from the small space closing in on top of her and Nora found it was extremely effective. Then once they were out of the tower and headed down the street, he held her left hand in his right. Nora liked that a lot too. When they got to the Spruce and sat on the patio he wrapped his hand around her thigh under the table.

She had thought he was touchy before, but he’d managed to ramp it up even further. She didn’t mind. In fact, she loved it. She wanted his hands on her all the time.

Of course, she remembered that she’d meant to ask him something.

“Bucky?”

He hummed but continued to scan the passing pedestrians the way he always did while they sat. His eyes slid towards her when she didn’t continue right away. She just wasn’t exactly sure how to ask what she wanted to know in a way that would be easy for him to answer.

“So, there’s a gun in your freezer.”

There was a small screech of metal and he winced, dropping his left hand from the edge of the table. He frowned at the divet where his fingers had been and cut her a look she thought might be worried. His right hand drew back from her leg and onto his own.

Nora reached out and ran her fingers over the dent, “Oops. Hey, it’s kind of like carving our names into a tree. Everyone’ll know this is our table.” She grinned at him and the straight line of his back loosened a little. She reached to take his hand again, weaving her fingers through his, “Anyways, I wanted to know if there’s more hidden other places. I’ve never held a gun and I don’t want to find one by accident looking for a dishcloth or whatever.”

Bucky looked at their hands for a moment and then said, “Nightstand.”

“Which side?”

His eyebrows scrunched briefly, “By the door.”

“Okay,” Nora said, lifting her cup to take a sip, “That can be your side. Anywhere else?”

He turned his head to look at her, his mouth twisting up into an almost smile, “Back of the toilet.”

“Really?” Nora asked with interest, turning to face him, “You know, having a gun significantly increases the risk of accidents and most accidents in the home happen in the bathroom. Don’t you think that’s kind of a statistical hat on a hat?”

Now he really was smiling at her. The same hitch up on one side that made her feel all fuzzy inside, “No.”

“Alright, I trust you. I’ll never be able to keep ice-cream sandwiches at your apartment, but I trust you.”

“I’ll bring ‘em to you.” He lifted his own cup, still smiling.

Nora gasped and bumped his shoulder with hers, “Bucky, will you really? What a gentleman.” It was a ridiculous conversation to have but Nora was thrilled. It was one of the longest sentences he’d ever said to her.

Bucky knew exactly what he had to do. It was actually doing it that was proving difficult.

His side Nora had joked. His side of the bed. Like she would have a side. He really wanted her to have a side.

He’d been so sure she would be upset about the gun in his freezer. He could admit it, it wasn’t great. Bucky was sure Steve would have all kinds of things to say if he knew it was there. Things about the tower being safe and his being paranoid. Things he would deserve even if he didn’t have the second gun in his nightstand drawer and a third taped to the back of the toilet.

But Nora trusted him. She didn’t think he was paranoid. Or she did but wasn’t willing to tell him to his face. He could live with that because she hadn’t been upset about the table either.

He was a little upset about the table.

He just thought that Nora deserved to be held with two hands. As it was, he couldn’t hold hers on the way back from the Spruce because it put her on the wrong side. She hadn’t seemed to mind, just looped her arm through his instead, but it bothered him. He thought if he could get a handle on it, stop breaking things he didn’t mean to, that he could be a little less stingy. Touch her with his left hand just a little. But then he dented a metal table and was back to square one.

He tapped his fingers on the countertop and considered his phone. He didn’t really want to text her, he’d rather ask her in person, but he hadn’t managed it before walking her back to the lab. He definitely didn’t think he could speak on the phone, so he spent most of his Friday evening and Saturday morning trying to compose a message instead. He scowled, frustrated again by his own lack of words.

His plan was to text Nora and ask if she wanted to get breakfast at the diner. He’d already managed it once, the food was good, and the old lady who probably wasn’t named Doris was not a threat. As far as dates went it wasn’t his first choice, but it was the one he was most sure wouldn’t send him spiralling.

If it went well, he would try something different next time. If it didn’t- he didn’t really want to think about that too hard. It would go well. It had to. If he could just write the fucking text.

“Alright, Buck?” Steve asked from the armchair he’d been reading in. He’d watched Bucky fight with his phone most of the last twenty-four hours and had been shooting increasingly concerned looks in his direction.

He grunted in reply which wasn’t a yes or a no, but he really wasn’t sure which was true either.

“You trying to text Nora?” Sam asked. He and Clint were locked in another video game battle. The latter had stopped being quite so surly after Sam pointed out that Bucky and Nora spent a lot of time together and maybe he ought to just ask Darcy if she wanted to do something. He hadn’t yet, but he’d stopped complaining.

Bucky considered not answering, but he was pretty sure he did need Sam’s help this time, “Yes.”

Sam did a double take. His character on the screen fell off a very high wall, “What’s the problem? You text her all the time.”

That wasn’t really true but Sam definitely noticed whenever he did. “I can’t fuckin-“ He made an annoyed sound when his mouth refused to form the words. How was he supposed to explain that the problem was his anxiety making him unable to form a proper sentence?

Sam was very good at Bucky’s guessing game though. Probably because Bucky had refused to speak to him at all for several months, “What, you can’t spit it out?” Bucky nodded and Sam considered the problem briefly, “I mean, how much can you manage? Nora clearly doesn’t care if you say more than one word at a time.”

“Fucking nothing,” Clint muttered, evidently still a bit sour.

That was a good point. He’d really been trying to phrase it properly but obviously that wasn’t working. Nora probably wouldn’t mind if the question came in two words. He picked up his phone, breakfast tomorrow?

Nora was very good at his guessing game too, Yes. That diner? Like 10?

He wished she didn’t have to read his mind, but he was glad she could. His own reply was easier, yes. He shoved his phone back in his pocket feeling settled.

“Well?” Sam asked loudly.

Bucky had already forgotten about him. He guessed he owed some kind of answer to the question, so he nodded. Then, ignoring Sam’s obnoxious ‘you’re welcome’ he made for his apartment.

He didn’t sleep well, but he didn’t sleep poorly either. He only panicked a little in his closet getting dressed because people took their jackets off when they went out to eat. He pulled on a long sleeve shirt and asserted to himself that he would at least try.

It had been a very long time since he’d left the tower by himself. He was often on his own on missions, but this was different. He wasn’t armed (he kind of was), he hadn’t studied the layout of the streets (he had) and there was no team somewhere nearby to drag him out if he got blown up. Except- there was, wasn’t there? He could call Steve or Sam or Clint and they’d come find him. He felt better. Not exactly good, but better. He made it all eight blocks to Nora’s and didn’t feel like he was losing it by the time he got there. He hadn’t told her he would, but he figured if he couldn’t ask her out properly, he could at least walk her to the diner.

The doorman on the left was the same as the time before. He greeted Bucky with a nod and let him into the lobby. Bucky surveyed a truly hideous vase while the man called up to Nora. He nodded at the man’s assertion that she was on her way down and wondered why such an expensive building would have such ugly decor in the lobby.

The elevator dinged and Nora hopped over the gap, her cheeks puffed full of air. She let the breath go once her feet hit the tile. Then she smiled at him. It was infectious, he could feel the answering grin on his face as she crossed the room.

“Hi Bucky. I thought I was meeting you there. I guess I should’ve known better.” She reached for his hand as soon as she was close enough. It was grounding. A little more of the anxious knot in his stomach unraveled. Together they made for the door, “You aren’t going to believe the story Darcy told me yesterday. Apparently, she had a date with this guy who works at one of the banks,” she waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the tower as they stepped onto the sidewalk, “It’s actual nightmare fuel.”

“Clint’ll be upset,” Bucky replied. The man was acting insane, but he did feel a little bit bad. He wasn’t sure what he’d have done if Nora had walked out of his kitchen after he kissed her and not come back. Never left it again, probably.

“Oh yeah, he’s really stuck on her, isn’t he? He’s been acting super weird. The other day he came and asked me what you said to me after we went to the diner the last time? He got so upset when I told him you didn’t say anything.”

Bucky was surprised by his own laugh. He had a hard time remembering when he’d actually managed one last. Nora was delighted. She twisted to look at him and beamed. He wondered if he could manage to laugh more often if it would make her that happy when he did.

Nora told him the whole story of Darcy’s date. It took the entire walk to the diner and they were seated in the same end booth, side by side, when it was done. It was entirely ridiculous from start to finish and made Bucky think he’d been right to worry about Nora’s last date.

“You’re back!” The old lady crowed, dropping a pair of mugs to the table with a clunk, “Waiting for the other one?”

“Nope, just us.” Nora answered, already pulling sugar packets from their little dish, “Hey, is your name actually Doris?”

“It’s Francine but between us, I like Doris better. What can I get for you?”

Nora grinned, “Strawberry waffle with sausages and a- shoot. Any ideas?” She glanced at him. He was sure she was ordering the waffle because she knew he liked it. He tried to come up with something, he ate breakfast every day for fucks sake, and couldn’t. He shook his head, “Uh something with hashbrowns?” She looked at Doris, “Omelette. All the,” she waved at an imaginary plate, “stuff.”

The woman cackled, “Do you need a menu dear?”

“Nope, I'm committed. Unless you have crepes?”

She laughed again, “In this dive?”

“Right,” Nora nodded and started ripping sugar packets and dumping them into their mugs, “Omelet then. Thanks Doris.”

With one last smile she hurried off to the kitchen. Bucky watched her go, then surveyed the half-dozen other patrons. There was a mother with two small kids, a pair of young men, one skinny one not, and an elderly man with a cane. Bucky was positive none of them were a threat. He knew he would watch them the entire meal anyways.

Nora nudged one of the mugs towards him, already part way into a story about how she planned to screw with Tony. She seemed entirely unbothered by his inability to help her order. He felt a little bad about it anyways.

“I just think I’d feel too bad to do anything to his robots. I know they don’t actually have emotions, but it feels like they do.”

“Nora?”

“Mhm?” She sipped from her mug and watched one of the kids send his fork halfway across the room. Bucky had seen it coming but the resulting clatter still gave him a little extra shot of anxiety.

“You don’t-“ he started, didn’t know how to finish properly, and cut to the point, “Your mom.”

“Oh,” she looked at her coffee. He didn’t know how to describe the look on her face. A little sad, a little not, “She died when I was fifteen. She was the best. I had no idea my dad was a fuckup because she always- not cleaned up his mess exactly but she didn’t let me see it? We’d do all this fun stuff and I never even realized it was all free because he’d gambled away his paycheque.”

She frowned and he worried his question was a mistake. He didn’t want to upset her.

“I don’t like that I think of it that way now. At the time it was all just so great. We’d go sledding and skating. We spent all summer camping out at this lake a couple hours outside the city.” She smiled, “She made these lemon bars. I bet you’d really like them.”

Bucky found he really wanted to be able to tell her something in return. Give her a little piece of him, “My mom knit.” He picked up his mug, “Lotta socks.”

“Really?” She cocked her head, “Socks are so hard, I can never get the heel right.”

He felt the grin as it tried to fight its way onto his face, “She couldn’t either.”