It's Not Flirting If It's Tactical
More waiting, Ren was going to lose her mind. It’d only taken some light reconnaissance to discover the base was way too heavily fortified. The sheer number of guards made sneaking in impossible. The security measures meant a break-in attempt would be suicide. They wouldn’t be able to bluff their way in either, since Hydra knew both of them.
Normally she would’ve called one of the other Avengers by now. They were all more qualified for this. But one of them was currently trapped in the base. She had no clue what the others were doing, but her gut still told her not to trust the phone lines. Steve being captured and her own close call in Brno only made her suspicion worse. They might’ve known they were in Czechia looking for Barnes, but there was no way Hydra should’ve known enough to capture them.
With a lack of outside options, the pair had searched for any other way in. It took two days, but they finally found it. The Hydra compound received a bi-weekly shipment of food and other necessities. After a few rounds of negotiation, the pair bribed and sweet-talked their way into one of the trucks. In three days time, they would hide in the middle of the supplies and be driven right into the heart of the compound.
So that left three days of waiting. While her friends could be enduring all sorts of things, she was sitting in yet another hotel room. At least she had company this time.
On the drive down he’d been pretty quiet, but there had been a baby bit of bonding. She hoped. He seemed less… unsteady. As guilty as it made her feel, she couldn’t help admiring him. When he drove she could see the definition in his arms, the strong jawline, those eyes. But there was no point in indulging that. There was no way this guy was in any place for… that sort of thing, he probably wouldn’t be for a long time. Not to mention, everything she’d learned about him and Steve in history class had always made her think that they might’ve been, more than friends.
Totally platonic, being alone with a super attractive former assassin for three days in a tiny room with only one bed. Because their luck hadn’t held out enough for two. Attempting to avoid notice they had checked in at the first hotel they found, and it was all they had left. And, also to avoid notice, they’d stocked up enough to make sure they didn’t have to leave the hotel room for three days. Yay.
The room itself wasn’t bad. Well, it didn’t have its own bathroom which kind of sucked, but it was just down the hall. The bed rested against the same wall as the door, bracketed by side tables. A settee was in the corner - too small to sleep on, and it faced the little wooden desk. If only there was a couch like the other room. But apparently, the universe really wanted her and Barnes to be close.
On the first morning, Ren was sorting through her remaining Stark toys. Five wicked knives, six miscellaneous round things, and one pistol. That she still sucked at shooting. Barnes had no trouble pointing that out again.
“If you’re gonna point out my inadequacy, you could at least have the decency to finish our lesson,”
He stood up from the settee and set down the book he’d been writing in. They’d picked up a journal at the store too. “Let’s see your grip,”
Picking the gun up from the desk she tried to arrange her hands how he’d showed her. Tried to ignore the memory of him showing her. He seemed satisfied enough, “Not bad, stand up,”
She did as he said, “Hold the gun up,” He told her, “Now adjust your stance, feet slightly apart, and lean your hips forward,” He demonstrated, “Then you’re gonna want to roll your shoulders forward too, and bend your arms a little,”
Ren tried to copy his stance. He examined her for a second before placing his hand on the top of her back, pushing it slightly forward. Then he lifted her hands up. Both times his touch was so gentle she almost didn’t feel it. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, he was still considering her form. It seemed like he wanted to correct it more but hesitated. She knew why, the up-close demonstration from before had been a lapse, after everything that happened to him, he probably didn’t want to touch anyone more than necessary. Least of all her.
She dropped the stance and set the gun back down, “When we go in there, you’ll probably be carrying this anyways,”
“Still,” He said, “You should be able to defend yourself,”
Grinning she raised a now flaming hand, “You haven’t seen what I can do,”
“Right. That’s gonna take some getting used to,”
They both laughed, a lot had changed since the ’40s. But Barnes was still a gentleman, of sorts.
“What about the knives?” He asked.
Reaching around her he grabbed one of them and flipped it experimentally. The small motion was enough to impress her, the practiced ease with which he did it. Knives couldn’t be too bad. She pulled another from the box and tried to replicate his flip. It wasn’t nearly as graceful, but at least she managed to catch it.
They spent the next couple of hours going over some basic knife work. He’d wanted to see her hand-to-hand and seemed a little impressed. Ren felt proud of the progress she’d made with Natasha. If the Widow's training was enough to impress the Winter Soldier, she couldn’t imagine what he’d think of the woman herself.
The rest of the day was spent refining their plans for the rescue mission. Their main problem was the rescue aspect, they weren’t totally sure Steve and Sam were even in the compound, let alone where in the compound they were. But sometimes you just have to break in and hope for the best.
…
Ren was woken up by a violent thrashing. Blinking away her dream and half-asleep confusion she felt the bed jerk again. Barnes. It must’ve been another nightmare. A look to her left confirmed it, the man's face was screwed up in pain and his breathing was ragged. She wanted to wake him, really she did, but the memory of what happened the last time she woke him up made her hesitate.
But when he cried out she grabbed his shoulder, the flesh one. “Barnes,” She tried gently.
No response. He was still writhing. “James,” She tried again, a little louder.
He shot up, his eyes flying open. Ren flinched backward, watching him warily. His eyes were unfocused like he was still caught in his dreams. She gently placed her hand back on his shoulder. He twitched before his eyes finally focused on her. The shadows there made her wish she could do more. But she wasn’t very good at comforting people, and she doubted James was a hugger.
“Wanna talk about it?”
He stared at the bedspread, “No,”
The clock read 5 am and Ren had a feeling neither of them was going back to sleep. “Wanna talk about our half-assed plan then?”