Elevated

Nora was having an excellent week.

Peter was back at school and had gotten a stellar grade on his physics make-up exam. She missed having him in the lab, but he had texted her that Tony was letting him intern again and that was good news. Except she was pretty sure that by intern he meant fight crime which still made her a little upset.

Foggy had also texted her. Her aunt's heat was fixed, and he and Matt had buried her landlord under a small mountain of maintenance orders. It was going to cost the man a disgusting amount of money, and was entirely worth what Nora had spent making it happen.

She and Bucky had gone for coffee twice. Both days he wore his vintage coat and seemed relaxed walking down the street in a way he never did. He held her hand both ways, even when it meant holding hers in his vibranium left.

She really should have known, when Steve turned up in the lab, that it was going to be bad news.

Their relationship was a little bit strange. They spent time together because they both spent time with Bucky. He liked having both of them around. Nora had forgiven Steve for being so aggressively weird towards her, and Steve had forgiven Nora for unintentionally screwing with Bucky’s mental health. They didn’t hang out together without Bucky, and they didn’t text.

She knew he wasn’t Bruce because Bruce had left early for some sort of video conference. Apparently, Tony had an entire fake lab for that which didn’t risk showing any of their current research in the background. Nora was hoping it was Bucky when she spun her chair and frowned with disappointment when it wasn’t. She would’ve liked to kiss him in the lab now that it was empty.

“Hi Steve.” He didn’t look uncomfortable the way he usually did when he turned up. He had his hands shoved in his pockets and gave her a little smile, “What’s up?”

“Hey. I just wanted to come ask you about Monday.” He took up a spot leaning on what had briefly been Peter’s desk. He looked so relaxed that Nora really didn’t expect things to go sideways on her.

“What’s Monday?” She asked, spinning her pen.

Steve squinted at her, “Bucky’s birthday?”

A few weeks before, Bruce had bought her a tiny standing whiteboard and sharpied at the top, ‘days since last pen lost’. Nora was extremely proud of the ‘nine’ that was written on it. She knew she would have to erase it, and probably recalibrate the coolidge machine, when her pen rocketed out of her hand to ricochet across it and two more scanners.

“What?” The question came out inarticulate and strangled, “Monday?”

“He didn’t tell you?” Steve asked. He looked uncomfortable and that was more familiar.

“No!” Nora really didn’t think that should surprise Steve. She pressed both hands to her eyes. Her workday was almost finished and she’d already agreed to meet Bucky after so there would be no time to plan that evening. Friday, she had to work, and Saturday she was supposed to get brunch with Darcy which would probably eat up a big chunk of the day. That meant she had, effectively, two days to figure out what the hell she was going to do. She took a deep breath that rattled around in her ribs. She could do it. She was positive she could. She just had to think.

“What did you do last year?” She asked.

Steve shifted. The hard line of his jaw was telling. Nora could remember the first time she’d gone to the Spruce with Sam and Bucky, way back in the summer. It had been obvious that he wasn’t comfortable outside the tower. He’d said maybe three words the whole time. She wondered what the months before that had looked like.

“Okay,” Nora was gaining the sense that this might be hugely important, “What did you do before? When you were like, twenty?”

Steve answered immediately, “Coney Island.”

“Well, that’s not gonna work.” Bucky was better than he’d been, could make it a handful of places and only look mildly uncomfortable when he did it, but a massive noisy fair full of people seemed like a big stretch. She considered then prompted, “What about before that? When you were kids.”

Steve chewed on the inside of his cheek and thought about it, “Dinner with his family. His mom would make chocolate cake.”

“That,” Nora said, “Is doable. So, family would be you, me, Sam. Clint maybe?”

“Yes.” Steve answered.

“Alright, you tell them Monday at- your place? We can do mine, but he doesn’t really like the windows, and my super is still working on the blinds.”

Steve tilted his head at that, probably confused because he’d never seen her apartment, “My place is fine.”

“Sushi? Unless he used to like something in particular.”

Steve shook his head, “No, that sounds good.”

Nora eyed him. She still felt stressed, but at least they had most of a plan, “One of these days Steve you’re going to have to come by just to say hello and not put me in a panic.”

Bucky liked missions where they didn’t have to leave the city. It was a little because they didn’t take as much time and he could be called out and make it back before even missing a coffee date with Nora. It was also a little because it gave him intel on the city in a way that he could digest.

He could see the field on Tony’s surveillance, then walk the area under the guise of his most analytical self. There was no panic or discomfort because there was no room for it. Not while he was working. It was how he’d made it to Hell’s Kitchen with Nora. They’d had a mission at the waterfront weeks before and he had studied the streets for hours through a rifle scope.

Of course, sometimes the missions still ended up entirely fucked, which was how he found himself up on a rooftop back in Hell’s Kitchen with Clint, both of their weapons trained on a huge man whose weapons were also trained on them.

As far as Bucky knew, the guy wasn’t anyone in particular and had no reason to be fucking up their evening. They were supposed to be watching Steve’s back while he and Natasha raided the warehouse on the other side of the road, and instead they were about to be trading bullets with some random asshole. He bet Nora would be upset if he got shot.

It got a little worse, when a figure in red flipped over the edge of the roof and rolled in between them all, “Hold on,” He said, “Let’s all calm down.”

“Fuck’s sake,” The big man swore, “Get outta here Red.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea Frank,” He stood slowly, hands up like Bucky and Clint didn’t both know the gesture was meaningless, “I think you stepped in something you shouldn’t have.” To Clint and Bucky he said, “Gentlemen. How about I take my friend and go?”

“Not your fuckin’ friend.” The big man grunted. Bucky thought he probably wouldn’t mind a fight, but he didn’t seem willing to start it. He was eyeing Bucky with something like recognition.

“Don’t think so.” Clint answered, “Your friend caused a problem for us.” He had. Fired off a handful of shots and destroyed their attempt at a quiet entry into the warehouse, “He’s gonna come with us.” That was standard procedure, but it was going to be a fucking pain.

“I don’t think so.” The big man growled, shifting forward and aiming his gun with intention.

“Hold on,” Red implored, “There’s no need for that-”

Bucky cut him off, “You vouch for him?”

Clint shifted. If they were anywhere else, he knew his friend would be looking at him like he was insane. He muttered, “What are you doing?”

Red nodded very slowly, “I do. We’ll get out of your hair.” The man behind him did look at Bucky like he was insane.

Bucky lowered his gun. Clint made a frustrated growl, “Bucky-”

“S’fine.” Bucky asserted, “He’s Nora’s friend.”

Clint turned to stare. The man in red who Bucky had instantly recognized as the weird lawyer, coiled tight for a second, then seemed to rapidly understand that Bucky had saved him a great deal of trouble by knowing who he was and relaxed. He backed up towards his not-friend, “Thanks. Let's go, Frank.”

“How the fuck-” Clint started at the same time Frank said, “Who the fuck’s Nora?”

Bucky and Matt ignored both questions. Clint lowered his bow, and Frank was ushered off the roof. Nobody got shot, and Bucky thought Nora would be pleased.

Clint was not pleased. Nor was Steve. The former groused the rest of the mission about how Bucky had let them both go, and then Steve tried to grill him about how he knew the guy in red. He was somebody, apparently. A hero of some kind who was locked in a battle of wills with a society of assassins. Bucky thought he better not tell Nora about that. She was already upset about the number of her friends who got shot at regularly.

Bucky answered no questions and fucked off to his apartment the second he was off the jet. He showered and slept a handful of hours. He didn’t go to the gym, and didn’t manage to go for coffee with Nora either, but he did manage to text her that he wouldn’t be.

He thought he might let the entire day go by him without marking it at all. Except, of course, he knew what day it was, and it was killing him.

He wasn’t bothered by getting older. He was already a hundred, it seemed pretty stupid to be upset by the number getting any higher. What bothered him instead, was what the day used to be, and what it wasn’t now. He could remember a time when he’d spent it with his family. His parents and Becca and Steve. They’d gone to the fair and Steve rode the Cyclone and then threw up everywhere. Bucky laughed until his ribs hurt.

He had so little of that left. He still had Steve, was thankful for that every day, but the rest was gone. His parents and Becca. Even the stupid fair. It was still there, he knew, but there was no way in hell he’d be able to manage going. Too many people, too much noise. Even his ability to fucking laugh was gone. Bucky was positive he hadn’t laughed that hard since.

He knew Nora’s knock by now. He got up from the armchair automatically and crossed the room to open it. The claws that had been sharpening themselves against the inside of his sternum eased a little.

“Hi Bucky.” Nora smiled at him. He always marveled at that. The way it warmed everything up.

He bent to pet Luna, who pressed against his legs, and let his eyes linger on the line of Nora’s skirt. The pink one he’d picked and had yet to see her in. He liked it a lot. He straightened to show her as much, stepping into his doorway to kiss her. The feeling of it, huge and warm, squashed down some of the grief. He’d lost a lot. But he’d gained things too.

Nora’s phone chimed as he pulled away and tugged her by the hand into the apartment. She rolled her eyes, pulling it from the pocket of her coat as it chimed twice more in rapid succession. “How much do you text Steve?” She glanced at the screen then tossed it onto the counter and hefted the big tote bag on her arm to drop beside it.

Bucky frowned. He didn’t often, Steve was rarely very far away so it seemed like a silly thing to do. He understood immediately that for some reason Steve was texting Nora. He really couldn’t decide if he liked that. He liked having them both together. The two people who squashed down the awful feelings and reminded him what it could be like to actually live. Nora was good and so was Steve. He wondered, suddenly and horribly, if they would be good together.

“It’s like texting a twelve-year-old girl, which I know because I was one.” Nora shrugged out of her coat and Bucky admired the cut of her white sweater, “He sends like three messages at a time and then a bunch more if you don’t answer him right away.” Her phone chimed again and she pointed at it, annoyance clear on her face, “I guarantee that’s him again. He’s been freaking out all day.”

Her annoyance soothed his moment of insecurity away, “Why?” He wasn’t sure if he was trying to ask why Steve was freaking out or why he was telling Nora, but it didn’t really matter. Nora always knew how to answer.

“Because you’ve been locked in your apartment all day.” She reached and took both his hands in hers, “And it’s your birthday.”

He felt it all over. Hot and cold. Happy she knew and guilty that he hadn’t told her. He thought she could read it on his face somehow.

“Steve told me. We made a plan to have family dinner at his place.” Nora was so good at reading him, but she never seemed to notice when lightning tried to strike him dead, “But if you’re not up for it we can lock the door and pretend we’re not here.” She glanced over her shoulder at the bag she’d brought, “We can have cake for dinner.”

When she met his eyes again, she faltered. Her expression shifted a little and she dropped his hand to gesture at the door, “Or I can go. I didn’t mean to-“

“No.” He caught her hand again and held it. He didn’t want her to go. He never did, really. Eating cake with her in his apartment sounded like a good way to waste the rest of the day. But he wanted to know what she meant by family dinner. Not her family, that she never saw. Not his, that was long gone. “We can go.”

“Are you sure?” Her eyes were searching. He wondered what she was seeing.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Nora nodded, “Well in that case we’re late. That’s my bad, Peter called me.”

She reached for the tote bag, but Bucky beat her to it, slinging it over his elbow, “Why?”

Nora clicked her tongue, snatching up her phone before going to the door, “He wants to use the radioscope on the weekend. I don't really know why but I don’t think he wants Tony to know he’s doing it. As if Tony doesn’t know everything that happens in this tower.”

Bucky stopped two steps out the door, recalling the way he’d kissed her in the elevator every time the doors were closed for months.

Nora stopped too, “What’s wrong?”

“The elevator.” He managed to grit.

Nora laughed and tugged on his arm, “That’s okay actually! Tony accosted me a while ago because FRIDAY wouldn’t give him the footage.”

He didn’t like the first part of her statement, but he did like the second. He tried pretty hard not to kiss her in public and he would’ve been angry if their business got aired anyways.

Family dinner, it turned out, was half the team. Steve and Sam and Clint who were already sitting at Steve’s dining table arguing about something. Steve had his phone in his hand and looked stressed. Probably because Nora hadn’t replied to him.

“Hey man,” Sam greeted, “Happy birthday.”

“Hey Buck.” Steve said, dropping his phone to the table. His expression melted into relief.

Clint had a mouthful of tortilla chips and said nothing, but he did wave.

“Hey.” He set the bag on the table and watched Nora pull out the contents; a covered cake pan, a small box, and an envelope.

“How old are you now? Two hundred?” Sam ribbed.

Bucky breathed a laugh. He might as well be, “Yes.” He sank into the chair next to Steve and was pleased when Nora sat next to him. She stretched out her legs so they tangled with his and set the envelope and the box in front of him.

Nora said very seriously, “Steve only told me it was your birthday on Friday. I wanted to knit you a sweater.”

“You knit?” Steve asked.

“She made my hat.” Bucky answered. He didn’t really care about gifts, though he probably would have liked a sweater Nora made a great deal. He picked up the box and flicked open the top. It was a travel mug, recognizable instantly from the top. He hummed and pulled it free, then laughed properly at the design on the side. Nora grinned fiercely at him.

Steve leant to see it, a matching grin on his face at Bucky’s laugh that slid away with the groan that left his mouth. Bucky turned it so Sam and Clint could see. The mug was blue with one of Steve’s old show posters slapped on it. A cartoonish and yet immediately recognizable Steve in tights, accompanied by a line of chorus girls.

Sam was delighted. He reached to take it and gave it a closer inspection, “Where’d you get this?”

“I’ll send you a link.” Nora said.

“No!” Steve barked, “and nobody show Tony!” Nora exchanged a loaded look with Clint, who nodded seriously.

Bucky opened the envelope. He wasn’t sure how it could be as good as the mug, and then felt silly for doubting Nora because it was better. He remembered sitting on the couch with Steve and Nora at Thor’s apartment, but he didn’t remember the photo being taken. Probably because he wasn’t paying attention. He was grinning at Steve, one hand on his shoulder, who smiled back. Nora was wedged between them, her hand on Bucky’s knee, smiling at the camera.

“Oh!” Nora said, “This too.” She fished in the pocket of her skirt and offered him a little blue magnet, “For the fridge.”

Bucky wished a little bit that he hadn’t agreed to leave the apartment. He would’ve liked to kiss her. He fought with it for a second, then decided Nora probably wouldn’t mind, and did it anyways. Just once, a bare little press of his lips on hers.

Sam looked purposely away towards the windows. Clint looked at the roof. Steve grinned at the picture Bucky had shoved at him.

The second he pulled away, his hand still gripping the back of Nora’s chair, Clint asked loudly, “Hey Nora, how do you know the Devil anyways?”

Bucky was glad for Clint’s ability to change a subject, and furious at his choice of topic. Nora looked confused and joked, “Well he hired me.”

Steve snorted, catching the shot at Tony, but Clint frowned, “No I mean the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. You know, red suit. Mask.” He lifted his hand to cover his eyes in a vague approximation of the man’s outfit.

To Nora's credit, that was all it took. She squinted at Clint for a second and then her face morphed into cold outrage, “Oh my god.”

Clint seemed to catch his error and flailed, “Bucky said you’re friends?”

She shot a furious look at Bucky, who shot one at Clint, “Oh yeah.” She grit, “Great guy. Lots of charity work.” And then because she was apparently unwilling to be annoyed with Bucky on his birthday, she changed the subject again, “So are you going to ask Darcy out or what?”

It wasn’t like his birthday used to be at all. Instead of the cramped little one bedroom in Brooklyn he grew up in, they sat in the huge apartment tower. They ate sushi instead of mashed potatoes, and the chocolate cake didn't resemble wood shavings at all. He still felt the absence of his parents and Becca.

But he laughed. He grinned at Clint the whole time Nora grilled him, and while Steve told stories about their trips to the fair. He held Nora’s hand. His family didn’t look the same as it had, but he was happy.