Falling for You
Wandering discreetly through the Amzei Market stalls, your eyes darted between the multitude of customers browsing happily. It had been nearly a week and there was still no sign of the infamous winter soldier. You'd hoped he would frequent one of the numerous tourist attractions, but so far he'd remained hidden. Even super soldiers had to eat at some point, right? Having already staked out the other various markets that Bucharest seemed to have, you waited patiently in the final one. Maybe Barnes had already left the city. Hell, he may have already left the country. You just had to pray that he had stayed. The market wouldn't close until 2100 hours, which gave you eleven hours to monitor the area and pray that the soldat would reveal himself.
The past week had been increasingly difficult as every day and every attempt to find Barnes had been unsuccessful. You began to doubt your ability as a SHIELD agent. Without the constant praise and reassurance of your team members, your mind had begun to insult and mock you: reminding you of your worthlessness and overall impotence when it came to completing missions. Perhaps you should have enlisted the help of the others. No. They would only jeopardise the assignment. Emotions and sentiment would cloud their decisions. No, you were right. This could only be done alone. You just had to focus on the task at hand.
In the distance, you could hear the faint chimes of a clock. Glancing at your watch, it read 1400 hours. Shit. It had already been four hours. Doubt slowly crept into your mind as your eyes swept across the crowd, trying to identify anyone who even slightly resembled Barnes. Hunger overwhelmed your consciousness, the enticing smell of fresh fruit and covrigi wafting over the plaza. Eating something would definitely help calm your nerves.
You moved to join the queue of a small fruit vendor on the edge of the market. Something sweet would be perfect, you could much on the soft berries whilst waiting for the soldier to turn up. As you reached for your leus, you couldn't help but overhear the conversation in front of you.
"Cum sunt?" The man asked, his deep voice floating above the general hum of the market, "Sunt bune?"
"Sunt coapte, îs bune, sigur că da," the stall owner replied, a little surprised at the man's question. With your lack of Romanian dialect, you guessed he'd asked if the fruit was good, maybe if it was ripe. You cursed yourself for only learning Russian - you wouldn't even be going to Russia.
"Sunt coapte," the customer repeated, "Ăăăă, bine atunci, dați-mi... dați-mi vreo..."
"Șase, poftiți!" the vendor exclaimed before the man could finish his sentence.
"Mulțumesc!" As the man began to turn around, you felt someone push past you abruptly. Failing to catch yourself, you stumbled and fell forward, your arms pushed in front of you to break your fall. But the impact of the cold, hard ground never came. Instead, two strong arms wrapped around your torso, protecting you from the snow and ice covering the market's stone floor. You noticed that one arm felt slightly stiffer than the other. Finding your feet again, you looked up to thank your rescuer. Two steel blue eyes met with yours.
Oh my god.
You had found him.
After all this time, it took you literally falling into him to track him down.
"Slavă Domnului că am fost aici să te salvez, frumoasă," Barnes grinned, his expression full of joy and serenity. You gazed back like a deer in the headlights. He looked almost normal.
"Frumoasă?" he exclaimed. Oh shit. You hadn't replied. Had he asked you a question?
"Scuze ca nu vorbesc Romana," you replied, hoping that you'd correctly translated "sorry I don't speak Romanian."
"Do you speak English?" You nodded your head hesitantly, painfully aware that the winter soldier currently had his muscular arms wrapped around your waist.
"I said, 'thank god I was here to save you beautiful'" he whispered into your ear. A blush crept over your cheeks. Did Barnes just flirt with you? The same Barnes credited with two dozen assassinations over the last fifty years. This must be the lady's man that Steve had told you so many stories about. He certainly appeared to be the forties gentlemen he had described. His long dark hair tucked behind his ears, a comfortable red henley covering his torso, a gorgeous beard etched across his face. No, you did not just describe your mission as gorgeous. Nope, that did not happen.
"Are you feeling okay sweetheart?" he asked, obviously concerned by your lack of a response, "my apartment's not that far. I could check if that fall did any damage." This could be your chance. You didn't know if you'd be able to find him again if he left without you.
"That would be very kind of you," you answered.