Sarah came down the stairs to see her boys run out the door, having left the shield haphazardly in its worn leather case. She bent to pick it up and noticed that her unexpected houseguest from last night was lying awake on the couch. Bucky watched her with something akin to regret in eyes that had seen too much, but a small gentle smile played upon on his lips. Putting the shield properly in the case, Sarah said softly, “Morning. I hope my boys didn’t wake you.”
Bucky sat up, stretched, and replied, “They did, but I don’t mind. They were having fun with the shield.” Sarah tried, and failed, to keep her eyes off the strip of firm muscles his pulled up shirt exposed.
“I was about to make breakfast. You want some?” She headed into the kitchen and began getting food out of the fridge. She felt his gaze follow her, intense but not intrusive.
She turned to see Bucky sit at the island. He asked, “What’s on the menu, chef?”
“Just a clean-out-the-fridge hash and some waffles. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. Sounds perfect. I don’t find myself eating homemade meals often these days.” There was a hint of sadness coloring his tone, and Sarah found herself wanting to erase it. She knew some of Bucky’s background, but Sam hadn’t been willing to say much as it was Bucky’s story to tell. But if her brother was willing to trust the man in front of her, she would, too.
Sarah soon had quite the display of ingredients on the counter. Maybe it was slightly more involved than her usual clean-out-the-fridge hash, but Bucky didn’t need to know that. If there was one thing Sarah was good at, it was feeding hungry males in her house and neighborhood.
“Would you like some help?” Bucky offered.
“Only if you know what you’re doing,” Sarah sassed before she realized what she said. She was so used to her boys and Sam getting in her way and making things worse instead of actually helping. A pleasant chuckle from Bucky surprised Sarah.
“I might be a bit rusty, but yeah, I know my way around a kitchen.” Bucky came around the island to stand next to Sarah. “What do you need done first?”
Sarah felt her breath hitch at his proximity and couldn’t help but feel like a schoolgirl with her first crush. Compartmentalizing those feelings, she regained her composure and said, “Just chop the veggies into similar-sized pieces. You can put them all in this bowl here,” she said, putting a giant beat-up metal mixing bowl in front of Bucky. She watched as he began precisely cutting the vegetables with an ease garnered from experience. She asked, “Where’d you learn to cook?”
Without looking up from his task, Bucky said, “My ma. She said no son of hers would ever rely on a woman to cook for him. She taught my sisters, too, of course, but she was bound and determined that I know how to feed myself on more than just a can of beans.”
"You had sisters?" Sarah asked. "How many?"
There was a slight pause in the chopping. "Three. All younger."
Sarah wondered if any of them were still alive or if Bucky had looked for them, but it wasn’t any of her business. Tossing out a lifeline, if he so chose to grab it, Sarah said, "Losing my brother in the snap was one of the hardest things I've gone through, but I was lucky enough to get him back. And even though my boys didn’t really know him, they were so excited to meet him.
Meeting Sarah’s eyes, Bucky said, “Your boys seem like really great kids.” A smile warmed up his face, and Sarah could see how he must have appeared as a young man. “Must be their hard-working ma.” And then, he winked at her.
Sarah felt her face heat up, grateful that Bucky couldn’t see her blush. She found herself getting a little lost in his blue eyes and easy smile. It had been so long since anyone had looked at her like that. She very much wanted to get to know the man next to her. She finally said, “I’ve tried my hardest with them, but you always wonder if that’s enough.”
Still looking straight in her eyes, Bucky said, “I think that’s all anyone can do. Yesterday I saw how everyone around here looks to you.” He turned back to the knife and veggies and said softly, “It seems that anyone who can call you a friend is pretty lucky.”
Testing the waters with the man with a metal arm, Sarah asked, “Would you call yourself a friend?”
Bucky looked up with those clear blue eyes and said, “I’d like to call myself more than a friend.”