Happy Tails

That following Wednesday comes sooner than expected. Dr. Raynor notices Bucky’s in a bit of a haze as he sits silently on the couch across from her. 

He hasn’t said a word since he walked in almost 10 minutes ago. He hasn’t even been able to make eye contact with her. 

This is highly unusual for him, as he normally sits down angrily every Wednesday with a bone to pick. But now he sits, unmoving, as he stares blankly out the window. Not one muscle has twitched since he sat down and it’s now starting to unnerve her. 

Her own annoyance gets the best of her and she chucks her pen at his head, hoping it works like it did last week. Maybe a physical object disrupting whatever is going on inside his mind is what he needs to be pulled out of it.

Without turning his gaze from the window, Bucky only moves his arm at the exact right moment and instinctually catches the pen in his flesh hand before it collides within centimeters of his head. 

He finally turns his head to look down at the pen in his hand. He clicks the pen and then looks deadly in front of him, without blinking. He brings the pen back behind his head over his shoulder like he’s winding up to throw a dart and hurls it across the room. Dr. Raynor doesn’t have a moment to dodge the pen as it whizzes past her head, almost nipping her ear, and lands with a loud thud as it lodges halfway into the drywall. 

Dr. Raynor yanks her head back to assess the damage on the wall and can’t believe him. But, at the same time, she can. He can be such a loose canon sometimes. 

When she looks back, she sees James cock his head with his eyebrows ticked up in challenge. 

She glares back, leveling her own frustrated gaze at him. “You done?” 

Bucky doesn’t verbally respond but he does cross his arms across his chest, sitting up straighter in his seat. He knows she can read him and his body language. She knows he isn’t happy with her. But she had her reasons. And it has seemed to be a success by the way he’s reacting.

“Why’d you do it?” 

She squints her eyes together in confusion, thinking playing dumb is her next best option. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about James.” 

“Don’t bullshit me Doc. You know exactly what you did.” He starts tapping his foot anxiously awaiting her confession. 

She changes her tactic, wanting to throw him off, in hopes of him getting his guard down. “You know exactly what I did. And why. You just needed a small nudge.” She crosses her arms over her chest, not backing down. 

Bucky’s lips partially separate for a moment but he glues them back together in a tight line. He huffs out an aggravated breath through this nose. He knew she was up to something and knows better.

He mumbles down into his chest, “I can’t believe I fell for it. Should’a seen it coming…” 

“When did it click for you? When you talked with Y/N?” She adds chipperly, leaning forward in her seat.

Bucky looks away from her towards the window again, avoiding her gaze, avoiding her questions. He didn’t exactly do everything she told him to do and he doesn’t want to get written up for it. Hopefully she takes the cue to leave it alone.

But Dr. Raynor is too smart for that. “You never did talk to Y/N.” She reads his continued silence as affirmation. “Or any of the others for that matter…”

Bucky pins her down with his glare, anger flitting across his face. “Didn’t need to talk to either of the first two shops because they were absolute dumps!”

“That was precisely the entire point. I wanted you to go to Happy Tails. Like it even. And it has worked. Do you not trust me yet?” 

Bucky gruffs a breath, “I’m gonna let you decide that Doc.” 

Dr. Raynor breaks slightly in her exterior but keeps eye contact with Bucky, “Look James...I’m not going to apologize for my little...scheme. It was a test in many sorts. But what I’m most concerned with is that it got you to look into adoption or rescuing. It got you to do something for yourself.” 

Bucky tightens his grip on his biceps. “Wait - what do you mean a test?!”

“I needed to know if you were going to take this seriously. You still sought out Happy Tails even after the first two. And it’s obvious you are.” She pauses as she uncrosses her arms and places her hands in her lap gently. “I honestly didn’t think you’d really go through with it. It was a shot in the dark but I’m really proud you’re choosing this and to make this progress.” 

“Hmph.” He can’t decide if he likes hearing her compliment him. It feels...odd, but it’s been a long time since someone has said they are proud of him. So that’s pleasant.

“Now, you’d know that Y/N is one of the best at what she does if you had actually talked to her—“ 

Bucky goes to interrupt her, “I—“

She raises her hand to stop his futile attempt. “There’s no way you did. You’d have a dog now if you did. You most certainly sat at that cafe across the street and stalked her and her shop.” She challenges him, “Tell me I’m wrong.” 

Bucky grunts in his place. She caught him. Again. But he doesn’t ignore how she knows about the cafe across the street. So she must have some sort of relationship with this...Y/N to know what surrounds the shop. He’ll store that for future reference. 

“This week you need to talk to her. Ya know, engage in something called conversation. Let her tell you all about the animals and services she offers. Think you can do that James?”

The condescending implication of her words rubs Bucky the wrong way. He can’t take much more of people talking down to him. He knows she’s doing her job but he didn’t expect it to come from her this much. He watches her reach for her pad and another pen. She places the pad in her lap and taps the pen against the paper, essentially indirectly threatening him. He hates how she knows his exact pressure points.

He groans loudly as he rolls his eyes. He doesn’t want to be written up. He needs to keep the peace, “Fine.” 

Dr. Raynor looks at her watch and calls it a day. “Good. But time’s up for today.”

“Thank god.” He slaps his hands down on the couch next to his hips and pushes to stand up. “Can’t take much more of it.”

“Too bad you don’t have a choice about it. I’ll see you next week.” She pauses her step on the way back to her desk and turns to James at the door. She points to the wall to his right and asks with the fakest sweet intonation, “Oh...and before you go, can you grab my pen please?” 

~~~~

Sessions with Dr. Raynor drain Bucky, so he takes a few days to muster up the courage to attempt again. He tries again on that Saturday and he almost goes in right before close when all the customers are gone but when he sees her pull out a bottle of wine and clutch a black kitten to her chest, he deflates. 

When he looks closer, he sees her shoulders shake as she tucks her head next to the kitten’s small body. It might look like laughing to an untrained eye, but when she scrunches her eyes tightly and her shoulders rise up to her ears, he knows it’s anything but. He sees her release the kitten gently on the countertop and lean down below the edge to grab a bottle of wine from under the register when a few tears escape her eyes.

His eyebrows spike up to his hairline when she pours the red liquid all the way to the top of the glass. She didn’t fill it up that much last week…

And then when he sees her gulp half the glass in one go, he knows today isn’t the day. He doesn’t know how he would navigate that conversation and interrupting her time with her wine glass. 

He sighs quietly to himself and pushes up out of his chair. He takes a moment to stretch his legs quickly, as they are stiffer than he expected, not realizing how long he’d been sitting there watching her. He takes one last look across the street before he retires for the night and he’s glad he does. He doesn’t want to add more to whatever she’s dealing with.

The smallest half smile grows on his lips as he watches you push that white kitten away from your wine glass, who’s trying very hard to take a lick at the contents inside. His attempts are in vain as you pick the kitten up in your arms and nuzzle your nose into his snout with the easiest smile. Just for that, his day wasn’t a total bust. 

He decides he likes your smile and wants to see it more. It calms him. And that kitten’s curiosity is something Bucky just wants to explore more, and in person. He puts his hands in his jacket pocket and walks the short distance back to his apartment, holding onto the image of your smile and that white kitten.

It’s a few days later on Tuesday night, right before close once more. Bucky has been sitting at the cafe the past two hours watching you mingle with customers, feed the animals, and prep the shop for close. 

He looks at the clock on the wall above the cafe front door and sees it’s two minutes to 7pm when he jumps out of his seat. He forces the chair back so harshly that it scratches the floor and topples over with a clank. He ignores it and stomps the 30 or so feet over to your shop. He doesn’t pause as he reaches for the front door and enters unabashedly, determination to follow through clouding his sensory intake.. In his hurry to make it before close, he fails to see the person approach the other side of the front door as he works up the strength to finally follow through with his assignment.

~~~~

You check your phone for the time again. 

6:59pm

You can close up a minute early on a Tuesday. You have no more customers. No harm done. You look around at all your furbabies, no one is roaming around. You smile sweetly as they’ve all settled in, whether in their cubbies or on a bed somewhere sleeping. You love this time of night when everything calms down. The hustle and bustle of hundreds of people coming in and out of the shop, jostling the energy within and over-stimulating the animals all day. It settles you, the peacefulness of it all, seeing them comfortable and vulnerable.

As you walk towards the door, you look down at your phone, open up the messaging app and start to text out a message to your sister when the bell above the front door dings and the edge of the door abruptly swings into your side. You don’t realize how close you are to the door and the force of the door catches you by surprise and it knocks you over. 

“Ah!” 

“Shit!” A male panicked voice speaks up.

Your grasp on your phone releases and it tumbles to the tiled floor beneath you, now out of reach. 

You think you’re about to slam onto the floor because your face is reaching closer and closer to the tiles below. During these few seconds of falling, you think to yourself that you definitely need to clean the floors again. Those yellow stains are nasty.

But something stops your fall. You’re hanging diagonally in the air with your feet still touching the floor. What’s holding you up?

You work to slow your labored breathing in this motionless position, knowing you aren’t in danger of hurting yourself. That’s when you feel two arms around you; one near your hips and the other closer to your waist. One softer while the other one firmer and harder. Slightly perplexed, you tap the arm that is around your waist a couple times to signal this person to let go. That arm...feels like metal? What? And...is that...leather? Who’s wearing leather in July?!

The person reluctantly lets go of your body and you take a step forward to center yourself. That’s when Max comes rushing out to your side and starts barking. He nudges your thigh and stuffs his nose into her palm. You bend down to his height, “Hi Max, it’s okay, I’m okay.” He turns his barking to the man behind you. “Shhhh, it’s okay, this nice man helped me.” You scratch behind his ears and that gets him to relax. He raises his chin, wanting you to scratch down his neck. “Yessss, that’s a good boy. You’re a good boy Maxy!” You coo and go to finally stand up.

You turn around, Max at your heel. You look down and command, “Max, sit.” Max listens obediently and he sits up straight, on guard. For once, he isn’t panting happily with his tongue hanging out. He must sense something off.

Your gaze finally meets the man standing in front of you. His face looks somewhat...familiar? You feel like you’ve seen him before but you can’t place it. Extremely handsome no doubt, with those blue eyes and shoulder length brunette hair, a shadow of facial hair peeking out. It’s on the tip of your tongue but you can’t place it for the life of you. You don’t worry too much about it because you need to figure out what he wants first. Formalities can come later. 

He gives nothing away. His face is neutral while his eyes scan you, his body still. It’s a cringing silence that fills the air.

He doesn't seem to make a move anytime soon, so you speak up first. You wave awkwardly, wanting to break the tension building up. “Hi, I’m sorry but I was just about to close up. We open up again tomorrow morning at 9am if you want to come back--”

You notice him stare you down, still unmoving. His presence is slightly unnerving and you’re getting to the point where you might have to consider calling for help. Max growls at your hip and you pat his head to calm him. It won’t do anyone any good with a chaotic puppy running around.

The man steps back when he hears Max growl and puts his hands up in surrender. He finally speaks. You can hear him plead, and it breaks your heart. “Please, I need some...help.” He pauses as he takes another breath and speaks softly, “And I...don’t do well with crowds.” 

Ah, that makes sense, especially coming in right at the last minute before close. Smart on his part, he knows what does and doesn’t work for him. 

It’s your turn to observe him. Even with his rougher looking exterior, he gives off an energy that means no harm. There’s something in his eyes that looks genuine and you’re wanting to trust that. But he’s also giving off distinct military vibes. Just the way he’s holding himself, his posture, his eye contact. You’ve seen this many times before and you can see the years of pain and warfare etched on his face, even if he isn’t meaning to show you. You grew up around it, you know how to spot a soldier anywhere at the point. And if anything, it gives you more inclination to help. Even if it’s to help your guilty conscience. 

So, you’re willing to take a risk. You extend him an olive branch, something you wished you’d been given in the past.

You relax your posture and allow a welcoming smile to take over your face. You know from experience a smile can go a long way. Even save a life, so you work to make it as genuine as possible.

“Absolutely. Happy to help. My name is Y/N, what can I do for you?”

The man in front of you seems shocked. His eyes widen and his mouth opens, seemingly surprised by your kind gesture. 

He finally moves and lowers his hands in front of him and clasps them together. He breaks eye contact and looks at the ground, somewhat afraid of how you’ll react to his request. 

“I uh - am looking to adopt?” He asks hesitantly, not sure himself what exactly he’s saying. 

“Okay great!” You encourage, wanting to keep it light. You can tell he’s nervous about the entire situation. Maybe he doesn’t want to be here or doesn’t know what to do. And dealing with people like him is where you shine. 

You have a tender spot in your heart to help lost souls. Because you’ve been one of them. 

You start your questionnaire, “Do you know if you want a dog or a cat? What type of lifestyle do you lead? Like how much time will you have to take care of the animal? Do you already have other animals at home? How many people are in your household?” 

You see the overwhelmed energy floating in his eyes and that’s when you see you’ve made a mistake. You can tell he doesn’t know how to answer these questions so you decide to circle back and start with the questions one by one. 

“I’m sorry, I get so excited when someone talks about adopting or rescuing. I’ll slow it down. Dog or cat?”

He takes a moment to think. “Dog?” 

So he’s still unsure. “Cool. Let me introduce you to Max here. He’s one of our pups up for adoption.” You pat Max’s head sweetly and his tongue instantly flops out to the side as he smiles into your touch and tilts his head up to look at you. “He is the sweetest German Shepard you’ll ever meet. He sadly failed out of the police academy because he just loves belly rubs too much.” At the mention of the words ‘belly rub’, Max plops onto the floor and rolls onto his back, legs in the air, waiting anxiously for his belly rub. 

You laugh heartily, “See? Harmless. And adorable.” You bend down to rub his hairy belly and he shakes from side to side with happiness. “But also very good with commands, is coachable, very loyal, and has protective instincts. He’s also done growing at this point, at about 85 lbs. But he needs lots of exercise and socializing, so more of a high maintenance dog. Is that what you had in mind?”

The man looks down at Max curiously. He assesses the canine. “That does sound nice…”

“Would you like to meet him?”

The man just nods softly, and you think you see a smile start to creep up as he looks at the smiling dog in front of him. You search your back pocket and pull out a few treats that you keep handy on you at all times. You reach out with your right hand and hold your closed palm facing down. “Take a few of these treats, he’ll love you immediately.” 

The man takes a few hesitant steps towards you and extends his right hand below yours and you drop the treats into his palm. He looks at the treats inquisitively but nods again. 

You direct him, “Bend down to his height, say hi, and hold your hand open so he can see the treats. You can tell him to sit before you give him one.”

The man looks between you and the dog one more time before does as he’s instructed and bends down saying, “Hi Max.”

Max happily skips over to the man in front of him and almost pummels him when he speaks again, “Max, sit.” The way he commands Max sounds like someone who has experience giving commands. Authoritative, little room for negotiation, and demanding of your attention. 

You can lie and say it wasn’t kinda sorta hot. 

Max obeys even better than he does with you. Amazing! 

Without having you to prompt him, the man holds out his hand and Max dives into his hand, devouring the couple treats greedily. That gets him to laugh and he takes the initiative to reach out to pet Max’s head. Max responds immediately and lurches forward to lick all over the man’s face. 

“Oh shit!” You rush to pull Max off the man and reach for his collar to grab hold. “Gentle, Max. Gentle.” 

Max turns his kisses to you when he whips his head back towards your voice and you burst into giggles at his kiss attack. You’ll definitely have to wash your face thoroughly tonight to get his globber off. “Max, down.” 

He listens and falls to the floor in a thud, sitting up at attention with his front paws straight out in front of him, but that lasts for all of two seconds before he’s on his feet again and pounces at the man and starts to circle him, jumping every few steps and putting his paws on the mans chest. He’s so tall when he stands on his hind legs. 

The man is stuck between standing still and not making it worse by rieling up Max and wanting to back up away slowly from the excited dog trying to take him down. 

You are mortified. Max is never this misbehaved. You work to calm him down but apologize to the man in front of you. “I’m so sorry, he can be very energetic at times. But it’s obvious he is drawn to you, so that’s really great.” 

When you finally get Max to listen to you, you hold him at your side by his collar so he actually doesn’t go anywhere and potentially hurt and scare this customer again. 

The man releases a heavy, anxious laugh and you look up at him again. He’s rubbing the back of his neck, worried about his next words. 

You figured, but Max is definitely too much for him. 

“Uh - Max seems nice but maybe…”

You reassure him. “Not for you. Totally get it. Max is a lot to handle and will take a special person to care for him.” 

You see his eyes drift to the kittens you got last week in this glass cubby. Two are sleeping peacefully while the white one is sitting up, looking on, completely intrigued by the interaction. Those blue eyes boring into the man in its presence. 

You smirk as that small smile reappears on his lips. Perfect. 

You slowly sidle up next to him, leaving a foot or so between to not encroach on his space. You look forward to your white furry friend sitting patiently. You nod towards the cat, “Want to meet him?” 

The man turns to you, hopeful. “If - if that wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

“It would be my pleasure…”

Wait, you still don’t know his name. Shit now it’s that awkward part of the conversation where it’s too late to ask because you’ve been talking for a while but you’re saved when he notices your silence and helps you out. 

“James,” he speaks up softly, not wanting to disturb the sleeping kittens. 

“Great to meet you James. Let me grab this little guy for ya.”

You take a few minutes to walk around behind the cubby and gently extract the kitten. A few meows and yips escape and you coo the kitten to get him to relax. He curls up easily into your shoulder when you walk back to James. 

You run your hand along the kitten’s back and the purring starts. “This here is Alpine. He uh...got dumped on my front step last week along with a few others and I’m in the process of nursing him back to health. He’s about two months old and he’s the biggest snuggler. He’s in pretty good health considering everything. He’s a fighter alright, such a brave little guy.” You scratch below his chin and he purrs louder into your hand and you smile satisfied with his reaction. 

You look back at James and you’re taken aback by the growing smile on his face. “Want to hold him?” 

But James doesn’t get a chance to respond before Alpine suddenly and unexpectedly jumps out of your hold and leaps the small distance between your bodies and lands on James’ left arm. He scurries up his arm, climbing his way up, and onto his shoulder, where he curls immediately into a ball at the crook where his neck and shoulder meet, hiding behind the shoulder length hair. 

You’re in utter disbelief. An animal has never had an immediate and obvious connection with a human like this before. You’re stunned silent. 

But it makes you laugh because now your job is that much easier. “Well, if you were searching for a sign on which animal to adopt, I think you just got it.”

James laughs lightly and just nods. You can tell he’s already captivated by the kitten and you’re not even mad. This is your job, pairing animals with people, and Alpine did all the work for you. 

You cross your arms across your chest as you take in the sweetest interaction between this broody, tough, rough around the edges man and the smallest, cutest, fluffy kitten now sleeping on his shoulder. 

James reaches up with his right hand to start petting the kitten and Alpine slumps further into James’ body and you just can’t take it. You’ve never seen something so precious. 

“A perfect match, if I do say so myself.”

James is too distracted to say much more than, “Yeah…” 

In this nice quiet lull where Max isn’t barking and the other animals are resting, you cement your knowledge on your observation. Now’s the time to attempt to subtly ask about his previous experiences. “I don’t mean to overstep, but...are you a vet?” That gets him to look back up at you sharply. You clarify, “A military veteran. I’m sorry to ask, you don’t have to answer but I get a lot of referrals from the local VA down a few blocks. You remind me of someone I—“

You stop yourself. That’s too much. This is about him, not you. Keep it light. 

You cough, clearing your throat, and run your hands through your hair in worry that you overstepped. While you fret over your words, you miss how James assesses you. He takes his time analyzing your words and your body language, deciding that it’s safe to talk to you about his past. Even if only with the briefest details.

“Yes,” is all he gives you.

You meet his eyes again and see his earnestness but also see the wall he’s putting up. You back off and try to reduce the new tension building up. So start on your cat-loving soap box. “Well cats are amazing companions. They tend to get a bad rep but are underrated in my opinion. Cats release stress reducing hormones that can help alleviate anxiety and calm you down. Their purr also has super powers because the range of hertz they release is considered medically therapeutic. They are great to start off with if having a dog is too much. Way less maintenance with a cat.”

James hums along to all your points as his eyes move back to the kitten now sleeping on his shoulder. 

Seeing his profile while he looks at Alpine is a sight to behold. The strong, distinct features are each stunning in their own right. But watching him carefully interact with Alpine while taking in his attire and facial features finally puts all the pieces together. 

The first name, long brunette hair, the harder left arm, the leather jacket and gloves, his military background. His name and face have been plastered over the news for years, in some of the biggest scandals of the last decade. And you’re no stranger to the news and are able to finally place a name to a face. Your own experience from your military background and connections help distinguish who he is too, from all your conversations about said scandals. 

The first time you met his best friend once, almost 10 years ago, comes rushing back. You have to ask, professionalism be damned. 

Before you can stop yourself, you gulp down your hesitancy and face him. You break the calm, quiet ambiance of your shop and ask nervously, “I’m sorry…” He looks back up at you, waiting for you to expand. You make sure to address him appropriately, “But are you Sergeant James Barnes?” 

Annndddd his instant reaction is one you were fearing. He nods harshly after a minute of deciding what to do, but you can see he’s overcome with immediate fear and shock of being recognized, and the anxious nature of what might happen next. His eyes dart around the room most likely trying to find the easiest exit. But you can't stop the word vomit from spilling out. You’re too excited, he’s here, in your shop, living and breathing and in the flesh!

You shamelessly gush out, “Oh my gosh, it’s such an honor to meet you! I can’t believe I’m meeting a real life hero in person! You’re seriously so amazing, the work you did with the Howling Commandos was so badass. Wow!” You finally exhale to catch your breath and realize you’re pushing major boundaries. “I’m...I’m sorry, wow, that was so unprofessional of me.” You laugh nervously at your outrageous outburst, somewhat ashamed, but not entirely. You’re allowed to geek out in front of heroes and idols right? 

You straighten yourself out and stick your hand out confidently, “Thank you so much for your service.” A pause, and it’s not lost on you on what you’re adding, “And sacrifice.” You say softer. 

He looks at your hand and back to your face with now a blank, somewhat terrifying glare and you know in that instant you just fucked up. Badly. 

You whip your arm back to your side and bow your head in defeat. In shame. How could you do this to this poor man?! He’s been through enough. That’s when he takes his moment to escape. 

His right arm reaches up to clutch the kitten to his shoulder and bolts to the door without a word. 

You stumble on your first step to stop him, “WAIT!” 

But he’s out of sight when you reach the door. You continue to scan the block for anything but...nothing. He’s gone and with your precious kitten, who needs specific medical treatment and nourishment. You ring your hands through your hair and pull tightly, thoroughly pissed at yourself. You let out a scream when you walk back inside, scaring Max to attention. You were so inappropriate and you just couldn’t control yourself. You’ve now alienated a vet and have lost a kitten. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck! What have you done?