Grade A American Beef

“Latveria.” The word is out of Darcy's mouth in an instant. After crying so long, it dragged out of her throat like ragged shards of glass. She swallowed against the discomfort, rising to her feet and approaching Bucky slowly with outstretched hands, giving him space to bolt if he needed it.

“She's in Latveria,” she repeated, her voice only slightly smoother.

Bucky's bloodshot eyes snapped to hers. “She? My kid...it's a girl?”

She nodded, watching as the man she loved dropped his head into his hands with a strangled moan that sounded like “a little girl.” Her heart ached for him. She wanted to hold him close and kiss him and tell him it was going to be okay but he'd pushed her hands away earlier, bolting from the room like a frightened animal. She’d come to him when he was ready this time.

He raised his head from his hands on a shaky inhale, his blue eyes searching hers. He said her name in a broken whisper and then reached towards her, the invitation obvious as it was heartbreaking.

She ran to him, leaping into his arms and letting him raise her off the ground, her arms clasped around his neck as tight as she could make them. His arms around her ribs crushed her to him almost to the point of pain and then loosened enough to let her breathe comfortably.

“I have to find her, Darce. I have to get her away from them,” he uttered into her hair, his lips brushing against her ear.

“I know, baby. I know. I'm gonna help you get her out.”

Bucky dropped her to her feet rather suddenly, his hands coming up to cup her face. “What, you're gonna storm the castle with me, sweetheart?” he asked around the tiniest glimmer of a grin.

“Yup.”

He huffed a laugh but his eyes went wide in disbelief when he realized she wasn't joking.

“Darcy. No ma'am,” he scolded. “You're not getting anywhere near a Hydra compound. Me and Steve and whoever else on the team wants to come are gonna get her.”

From behind her, she heard Steve shuffle his feet and clear his throat. “Actually…”

Bucky's eyes snapped to Steve's. “You won't come with me?” There was a soft hurt to those words, a betrayal newly realized.

Steve sighed, his whole body curving inward in pure exhaustion. “Buck, Darcy, come sit down. We’ve got strategy to discuss.”

Bucky's eyes narrowed as he glared in tight suspicion, but he gripped her hand and led her back to the bar that she'd been previously sitting at. They took their seats and Bucky made a show of wiggling down into his.

“There. I’m sitting. You wanna tell me why the fuck you don't want to come help me rescue my child from the clutches of Hydra? Why you aren't willing to save the infant daughter of your oldest friend? Hmm?” His brow twitched up indignantly and his hand clenched against Darcy's.

Steve looked at him with aching eyes, his voice shaking as he responded. “Buck, I want to. But I can't. Me and the rest of the Avengers, legally, cannot enter into Latveria. We've had some, erm, run-ins with its ruler in recent years and us being there would cause an international incident and potentially get us imprisoned without the U.S. government being able to do a damn thing about it.”

Bucky just blinked at him. “Jesus, Rogers. Can you not go two days without ending up on somebody’s shitlist?” Steve looked well and truly chastised, enough so that Bucky relented for a moment. He scrubbed roughly at his face. “Fuck. What am I supposed to do now? She can't stay there!”

Darcy tapped him on the shoulder. “That's where you and I come in. While the Avengers may have a standing ban, you and I are not technically part of the Avengers. I mean, we’ll still have to smuggle ourselves into the country, but if we get caught the U.S. government is still allowed to come bail us out.” She gave him a bland smile and deadpanned a little cheer, waving her fists like pom poms. “Yaaaay.”

“You're funny, sweet pea, but no fucking way. I can take a SHIELD agent if I need a backup.”

“While they still have a mole in their midst? Sounds like a great way to get shot in the back,” Darcy fired back, her dander rising with each condescending comment out of his mouth.

“Then I’ll go in alone,” Bucky replied between gritted teeth.

She scoffed at that. “Oh right. Great. That way you can get shot at from all sides. Super plan, babe.”

“Darcy…” he growled in warning.

“No! No, you don't get to go galavanting off on your own. You need someone to watch your six. Someone you can trust. And guess what pal? That is a very limited list at the moment, so you better suck it up and face the fact that I am coming with you whether you like it or not!” She was full on shouting by the end of her speech and he rose up out of his chair to glower down at her.

“No,” he growled, his face inches from hers and his eyes cold and hard.

You could cut the tension in the room with a knife as the two of them glared at each other. Good thing Natasha was so good with knives.

“Ahem,” she cleared her throat delicately. “If you could both stand down for a minute.” She crossed her arms over her chest, an unamused brow lifted as she waited for them to separate and give her their full attention.

“James,” she began, pinning him in his seat with that cold, Widow’s stare. “Let’s entertain the idea that you sneak into a less than friendly country alone, per your usual methods, take out every Hydra agent at the facility, and are successful at retrieving your child. Then what? Are you going to sneak out of the country the same way you snuck in, holding on to the undercarriage of a freight truck? With a baby strapped to you? Or, let's suppose you get to your daughter but once you have her you are ambushed by unknown forces. Are you planning on holding her in one arm while shooting with the other?” Bucky made to interject but snapped his lips closed at the look Natasha gave him.

“This is not a simple extraction, not when you add in the fact that your target is an infant. You're going to need milk and diapers and warm clothes and things of that nature. She's going to cry. There is no way to be a ghost in this situation. Which is why you need a partner. Someone who can watch your back and who can help you look inconspicuous. Because this is not going to be a quick snatch and run. It's going to take some planning and traditional travel and fake travel papers and IDs. It's going to take time, but it is the safest way to go about this.”

Bucky didn't say anything, just exhaled raggedly through his nose, his left hand clenching on the countertop while he glared daggers at the redhead.

“James, use your head. You know I'm right.” Her tone was softer, less brutal, but it stung him all the same.

He dropped his eyes to the granite countertop, trying to calm the screaming voice in his head telling him to steal a quinjet and go now.

“It's also why you need Darcy.”

Bucky's head snapped back up at that, the scowl returning to his face. “No. I already said no.”

“And Darcy has already informed you of your lack of options. She's a good fit for the job. You trust each other implicitly, she isn't on Doom’s radar, she's intelligent enough to lie her way out of most sticky situations and, thanks to you, she's a crack shot with a sniper rifle. A skill that is greatly beneficial to someone raiding an armed compound--”

“But--”

“Not to mention the fact that it is much less conspicuous for a man and a woman to be traveling with an infant than it would be for you to be on your own.”

Bucky’s head swiveled between the three people sitting around him, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to voice his argument. “No! Just...no! There is no way in hell that I'm going to bring the woman I...I care about most in the world on a mission that might get her killed! Three months of shooting at tree stumps does not an agent make, Nat! Have you lost your mind?”

Steve came around the island to settle a heavy hand on his shoulder, pushing him back into the chair that he hadn't even realized he'd stood up from. “Buck, we’ve been going over the schematics and personnel files of the compound that she's being held at while you were….busy. It's a small operation and poses a minimal threat, particularly if Darcy stays at a distance and snipes for you. She'd be perfectly safe. Mostly.”

Bucky stared up at the man. “Ah Stevie, not you too?” he whined.

To his right he heard Darcy snort. He turned his head to fix her with a perturbed stare. “Something funny, Darcy?”

She hunched her shoulders and gave him a sheepish grin. “Sorry. I think my brain is tired and getting loopy enough to start making jokes.”

He crooked a brow up at her in expectation.

“Uh it was dumb. You just...you just gave the supersoldier equivalent of ‘et tu, Brute’ and my brain thought it was funny but I can see now this is a very tense situation and I really shouldn't be making jokes and it was entirely inappropriate and I'm very sorry please forgive me mmph--”

Bucky took his hand away from Darcy's mouth when he was sure the flow of words had come to an end, brushing his thumb across her bottom lip and then leaning over to kiss her softly. “It's alright. I forgive you. Maybe lay off the Shakespeare references for a while though.”

She hummed and nodded at him as he pulled away, turning in his chair to see that Steve was looking at him like a kid on Christmas morning with the biggest, dumbest grin on his stupid face.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Steve. You're acting like you've never seen me kiss a dame before.”

Steve had the good grace to duck his head, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck where a slight flush had started creeping up. “Oh, sorry. It's just been a while since I've seen you this….” he waved a hand vaguely between Bucky and Darcy, the other coming up to cover the jaw cracking yawn he let loose.

“It’s going to take a few days for us to get the op set up properly.” Natasha’s eyes bounced over Steve's sagging shoulders. “I think this would be a good opportunity for us all to go get some rest. And for James to come to terms with the fact that he's going to be taking Darcy with him.”

“Natasha,” Steve objected, “we should be strategizing, figuring out the best way to take the compound with a two man team, looking--”

“All that can be done in the morning.”

“But--” Steve tried to object again but stopped when Nat came around the bar to grip his forearm lightly. She looked up at him with those large green eyes boring into his bright blue ones. “Come to bed, Steven.”

Wait, what? Bucky straightened in his seat as he watched the exchange.

Steve swallowed audibly twice and then nodded. “Yes ma'am,” slipped softly from his mouth, a dazed look in his eyes.

Nat gave a sly smile and led the good captain away by her grip on his forearm, making him look every bit like a fumbling, homeless puppy being taken home for the first time.

Bucky turned his astonished face back to Darcy, only to see her watching the other couple disappear around the corner with a decidedly pleased and partially smug smile on her face.

“Wait a minute, did you know about that? How?”

Darcy's eyes flashed with mischief. “Unlike some people, I am an incredibly observant human being and spotted Steve making cow eyes at Nat within thirty seconds of being on the quinjet.”

“I was a tad preoccupied at the time, Darcy.” He pursed his lips in a sour expression.

She returned his sourpuss look with a chipper smile and a kiss to his cheek as she hopped down from her chair. “I know!” She moved to stand between his knees, her hands coming down to rest on his wrists. “Enough chit chat,” she added, tugging lightly at his wrists. “Come to bed, James,” she continued with a waggle of her eyebrows. He could tell her lightness was somewhat forced but he appreciated the attempt nonetheless.

“Yes ma'am.” He huffed lightly and pulled her to him, kissing her sweetly for a lingering moment. The kiss was punctuated with a loud grumble from his stomach and it was quickly decided that they would scrounge around in the communal fridge before heading back to Bucky and Steve’s apartment.

When they arrived outside of his door, Bucky cocked an ear and breathed a sigh of relief that Steve and Nat had taken their, erm, activities elsewhere. Thank god. He loved the guy like a brother but he did NOT need to know what Steve Rogers sounded like mid-coitus.

“I dunno, man, I for one wouldn't mind listening in on that,” Darcy muttered as she followed him into the dark apartment.

“You're free to go sleep at Nat’s. The three of you all seem pretty comfortable teaming up against me. Might as well sleep with them while you're at it,” he replied, pursing his lips.

“Ooh you're grumpy when you don't get your way,” she teased.

“It's not a matter of not getting my way, it's a matter of being frustrated that you all seem hell bent on letting you get yourself killed.” He crossed his arms over his chest, staring her down.

Darcy could feel her hackles rising. “You really think I'm that incompetent?”

“No, I just think you're inexperienced.”

“I am inexperienced. I know that. But I'm also your only option at the moment. Unless you have any suggestions? Hmmm? Nothing? That's what I thought.”

The two glowered at each other, mirroring each other's stiff, angry postures.

Darcy was the first to break, softening herself and shuffling forward to wrap her arms around him and tilting her head on his chest. It was a little awkward because he still had his arms crossed.

“I'll be okay, Bucky. You’ll keep me safe. We’ll keep each other safe,” she said on a sigh.

He finally relented, arms unfolding to wrap himself around her and cradling the back of her head in one hand.

“What if I can't though?” he whispered. “What if I get you and my-- what if I get you both killed? How could I live with that?”

Darcy turned in his arms to meet his shimmering eyes, wetness threatening to spill forth with each passing moment. “You just have to have faith. Faith in me, faith in you, faith in us. You told me once that you still believe in God. Do you think he is cruel enough to take us from you?”

“No, I don't think he’d do that,” he said softly, bringing his forehead to rest against hers.

“Then have faith. We can do this, we can rescue her. Together.”

Her breath fanned out across his lips and he tipped his chin the last inch to bring their mouths together.

“Okay,” he breathed when he finally pulled away. “Together.”

Darcy's small hands smoothed down his sides, fingers dipping under the hem of his shirt to pull it over his head. He helped her slip it down his arms and sighed into the kisses she began to press into his chest.

“Darcy,” he murmured into the crown of her head. “I don't know if I can-- can do this right now. I feel so sick inside. Can we just….sleep? I just wanna hold you and try to sleep.”

She was an angel, he was almost certain of it, because she just smiled up at him, like he'd suggested the best idea she'd ever heard in her life. “Okay, babe. You got anything for me to sleep in?” He kissed her forehead and led her back to his bedroom, pulling out a drawer and handing her a soft cotton undershirt.

It felt so strange to be back in this room after so many months. It had a scattered, abandoned feel to it, like it had belonged to someone else long ago. But maybe he had been someone else. Before Darcy. Before her kindness and her family and her joy.

He toed off his boots and socks and undid his pants, shoving them to pool on the floor on his side of the bed. He pulled back his coverlet, sinking into the sheets that no longer smelled like home. When Darcy joined him in the bed, cuddling up to his side, her scent enveloped him and he realized she was what smelled like home to him now.

He turned in her arms, scooting down the bed until he could hide his face in her chest, his left hand sliding up to grip the back of her shirt and his right folding to tuck into his chest. Held in her arms, completely surrounded by her, he finally allowed himself to feel the swelling despair that rose up in his chest, unleashing a flood of tears as he sobbed into the soft skin of her chest. She kept him close, her fingers sliding through his hair in slow strokes as she let him wring himself out, riding the waves of his horror and anguish with patience and a steadfast calm that he could cling to.

His body finally gave in to the physical and emotional exhaustion of the day, allowing him to fall into a fitful sleep. Darcy stayed up a while longer, watching over him as he slept. When she was sure he was deep enough asleep that she wouldn’t disturb him, she slipped silently from the bed, padding on bare feet out to the darkened living room. She sank into the overstuffed sofa, staring blindly out of the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined one edge of his living room.

Then, in the stillness of the night, Darcy did something that she had not done since she was a child. She slid off the couch, fell to her knees, and fervently prayed to God. She couldn’t explain what compelled her to do it other than desperation that surely someone, someone, out there was listening and would hear her, would help. The tears started slow, collecting in the corner of her eyes as she pleaded on behalf of the man sleeping down the hall, and then they fell silent and heavy down her cheeks. Her whispered prayers became more and more incoherent the longer she stayed there on her knees, shoulders bent and trying to stifle her sobs with her folded hands.

When she had cried herself out and murmured every plea and heart’s desire that she possessed, she rose to stand on legs grown stiff and shuffled back down the hall. She paused at the doorway to Bucky’s bedroom, watching his chest rise and fall by the dim city lights that shone through his bedroom windows. He was curled tightly on his side on the edge of the bed, hands tucked to his chest, and even in the minimal light she could see the deep furrow in his brow.

Darcy crept over to him, running her thumb over his forehead to smooth the deep worry lines. When his face finally relaxed under her touch, she leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his brow, whispering “Please, God, give him strength,” against his skin. She tiptoed around the bed to get in on her side, slipping silently between the sheets and scooting in closer to wrap her body around his back, her thighs tucking up behind his and her hand slipping around his middle to rest over his heart. She tucked her face into the space between his shoulder blades, breathing in the scent of his skin and falling asleep to the steady rhythm of his breathing.

***

It took the team two weeks to get the op set up and in place. During that interval, Darcy spent most of her time shuffled back and forth between various members of the Avengers getting a crash course on badassery. It was exhausting and she fell into bed each night beside Bucky succumbing to sleep almost immediately, but it gave her a settled feeling in her gut to know that she was doing everything in her power to be the best partner for Bucky that she could be.

As for Bucky, the days passed at a snail’s pace, filling him with an ever present feeling of dread. It broke Darcy’s heart to see him like that, always on edge, his features arranged in a near constant scowl. She helplessly watched as he disappeared further and further behind the mask of the Winter Soldier, his eyes growing cold and his mouth drawn firm in a permanent frown.

It frightened her to see him grow so cold and distant, but she couldn’t fault him for it. Honestly, it was probably the only way he could keep himself from falling apart. So she understood, and she let him be and didn’t try to draw him out from behind the facade, though she desperately wanted to. She would be patient and hope that when they returned with his daughter and this nightmare was behind them, that he would return to the warm, tenderhearted man she knew him to be. And if he didn’t snap out of it by then, then she’d poke and prod at him until he broke out of the frozen shell of the Soldier.

It was almost a relief when Nat made the call that it was time for her to suit up. It was the first time in two weeks that she'd seen a real spark of life in Bucky’s eyes. Sure, it was a murderous gleam, but it was better than the cold, lifeless alternative. The relief lasted all the way until Nat started helping her suit up in the standard issue tac gear and the reality of her situation really hit.

Christ on a cracker. She, a civilian for the majority of her life, was going on a covert mission.

With guns. And knives. And at least 30 lbs of explosives.

Okay, well, Bucky was carrying most of that, but still.

Natasha must have picked up on the subtle panic attack she was having, firmly pulling Darcy’s fumbling fingers away from the zipper of her sleek, black jacket. She finished zipping it for her and then gripped Darcy’s fingers, massaging little circles into the knuckles.

“You’re going to be fine, Darcy. This op is low risk, high reward. As far as ops go, it’s suitable and preferable for a first time field agent.”

“Yeah okay, but do most agents go out in the field after just four months of any real training?”

Nat chuckled and tightened one of the straps across Darcy’s chest. “No, they do not. But they are usually not nearly as crafty as you have proven yourself to be. I’m quite proud of your progress. If you ever get tired of the PR world, you’d probably excel as a full time agent.”

Darcy gave a giggle that was just this side of hysterical. “Yeah, no thank you. I prefer being in places where the likelihood of me being shot is slim to none.”

“The likelihood of you being shot on this mission is also fairly slim,” Nat said, clicking her tongue in dismay. “Another thing you have that most new field agents don’t is the Winter Soldier at your back.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good thing,” Darcy mumbled.

Natasha arched a brow, her lips tightening. “What does that mean? Are you afraid he’s going to relapse and harm you?”

Darcy sighed and rolled her eyes. “No, mom, I’m not worried about that. He’s just been...distant. Won’t really talk to me, touch me.” Darcy shrugged helplessly. “I know he’s caught up in his head about this whole thing and it’s entirely selfish of me to be worrying about our relationship while his daughter is out there in Hydra’s hands but--” Darcy cutoff with a sniffle, forcing the tears and worry back down.

Nat swept a hand over the back of Darcy’s skull, fingers lacing into her hair. She dipped her head to catch Darcy’s averted gaze. “Have you talked to him about this?”

Darcy clicked her tongue in annoyance. “Of course not. He’s got enough on his mind right now, he doesn’t need to worry about my feelings on top of that.”

Nat circled around behind her to start tugging her hair into a tight French braid. “You’re about to go on a two-man mission with him. It’s bad business to go on an op when you’ve got beef with your partner. You need to clear the air before you leave.” She snapped the hair tie around the end of the braid and opened her mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by a firm knock on the locker room door.

Both women snapped their heads up to see Bucky standing in the doorway in full tactical gear, looking fine as hell and royally pissed off. “What’s taking so long?” he demanded. “Wheels are up in fifteen minutes, Darcy.”

Nat raised a brow at his tone and turned to Darcy with a very pointed look before heading towards the door.

“Talk to your girl,” she said as she passed Barnes in the doorway.

He watched the woman slip past him, his brow crinkling in confusion, before turning his gaze to Darcy. She felt a bit like a cornered animal and was internally cursing Nat six ways to Sunday for making her confront her problems. Like some kind of mature adult or something. Dammit.

“What did she mean?” Bucky asked, coming towards her in swift strides, stopping right in front of her with his arms crossed over his chest, barely contained irritation in every line of his posture, making it all the harder for her to voice her concerns.

Darcy fiddled with the buckles on her tac vest. “Uh, nothing. We can deal with it when we get back,” she said, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Darcy,” he rumbled, reaching out to grip her hands in his to stop her fidgeting. “We don’t have time for this. Tell me what’s wrong.”

It was his hand holding hers that finally caused the first tear to spill down her cheek. He was touching her alright, but it was all wrong. It held none of the tenderness or affection she had grown accustomed to. She bit back on the rest of her tears to meet his eyes. “When was the last time you kissed me?”

He shook his head, confused at the turn in conversation. “Uh...this morning? After breakfast.”

Darcy shook her head sadly. “No, babe. I kissed you. You just allowed me to do it. You didn’t kiss me back.”

Bucky blinked slowly at her, a wrinkle between his brows and then his eyes slid to the ground as he processed his behavior over the last few days. When he met her gaze again, it was the softest she’d seen him since that first night back at the tower.

“Darcy,” he choked out, and then lunged for her, bundling her up to his chest and pressing fervent kisses into the side of her face and any other place his mouth could reach. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself up to kiss him fully on the mouth, sighing in relief when he responded instantly to her, opening his mouth to slide his tongue against hers.

He kissed her feverishly, like a man starved, and she returned the heat in kind. It was somewhat awkward, what with all the bulk of their tac gear between them, but the two were so touch starved for each other that they hardly noticed. He backed her up until she was pressed against the locker room’s concrete wall, his hands darting into her hair to loosen the strands from her braid so he could angle her head to give him better access to her neck.

“You better...fix my hair...after this or Nat’ll kill you for-- Ah!-- for messing up her work,” Darcy panted as Bucky worked his tongue and teeth over the soft skin of her throat.

Bucky slowed his movements, bringing his lips to her ear. “Darcy, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me. Nat’s the one who takes her braids so seriously.”

His breath huffed across her neck as he chuckled. “No, sweetheart, not about that. I’m sorry for being such an ass lately.” He met her eyes, stroking his thumb over her cheek. “I was...it wasn’t fair of me. Can you forgive me?”

Her smile was small and a bit sad when she responded. “I forgive you. Of course, I forgive you. The circumstances...they haven’t exactly been in your favor. Just, maybe, don’t freeze me out? It’s not healthy. For either of us.”

Bucky nodded, his forehead coming to rest on hers and then tilting to bring his mouth back to hers. He kissed her slowly, languidly, tasting her like he hadn’t done in far too long. He slid his hands down over her rear and along the backs of her thighs, parting them and pulling them up around his waist. He needed her closer, needed to feel her surrounding him, needed to press his hips into her, needed to hear her gasp and moan, needed--

“Alright, lovebirds,” Natasha’s voice carried from the locker room entrance. “I hate to break up this party but you’re gonna miss your jet if you don’t get a move on. And you know how Rogers is about punctuality.”

Bucky groaned for an entirely different reason and let Darcy’s legs slip down from his waist. He backed away from her a little bit, keeping his front angled away from Nat and her keen eyes. “Yeah, alright, Nat. Go ahead and tell Stevie we’ll be there in a second,” he called over his shoulder.

“Oh James, no need to be so shy,” she said around a cat-like grin. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Darcy ducked her face into his chest and broke into giggles as a flush slowly rose up the back of his neck. “Shut up, the both of you,” he grumbled. It only served to make Darcy laugh harder and Nat’s grin to grow wider.

Two could play at that game, Natalia.

“Why so eager to see the goods again? Steve not enough for you, little spider?”

Nat’s brows arched in displeasure and her grin disappeared. The woman was not one to kiss and tell and she sure as hell wasn’t one to allow prying into her private affairs.

Luckily for Bucky, he had excellent reflexes, so he was easily able to snatch the dagger that she threw at him before it could make contact with his head.

Darcy sputtered indignantly at her friend, admonishing her for potentially endangering her boyfriend.

“I knew he would catch it,” Natasha replied, sly grin firmly back in place.

Bucky nodded in agreement, causing Darcy to roll her eyes and mutter “Fucking superhumans,” under her breath. Not that that kept them from hearing her words clear as a bell and laughing their stupidly beautiful heads off.

The sound of boots stomping towards them from down the hallway drew their attention to an irritated looking Captain America. Steve stopped short behind Nat, one hand on his hip and both eyes scanning the room with a disgruntled glare.

“You're all late. We were supposed to take off two minutes ago. What the hell are you all doing in here?” He tapped the toe of one booted foot impatiently against the ground, which only served to make the other occupants of the locker room burst into slightly delusional laughter. Stress is a hell of a thing.

Steve's jaw jutted forward as he readied himself to give them all a proper dressing down but was stopped when Natasha's hand slid up his chest to rest across his cheek. “We can make up the lost time in the air. Don't worry so much, luchik. There were things that needed discussing before we left.”

“Yeah, like the fact that you aren't enough to keep Natalia's attention so she has to watch me and Darce to get her rocks off.”

“Excuse me?” Steve responded, his ears flushing red with either embarrassment or anger.

Nat turned a withering glare on Bucky. “I am perfectly satisfied in my arrangement with Steven, thank you. It's Darcy that had to come to me about the… lack in her relationship.” Nat’s smile was sharp and Bucky's blush was swift.

“I'm missing something, aren't I?” Steve deadpanned.

“Come along, soldier. We wouldn't want to be late.” Nat wrapped a hand around one of the straps across his chest, lifting up on her toes to press a kiss into his cheek. His responding smile was blinding as he followed her back down the hallway.

Bucky took Darcy's hand in his, lacing his cybernetic fingers between her slender, flesh ones, and brought it to his mouth to brush tender kisses across her knuckles. His eyes turned solemn as he considered their immediate future and the soul crushing grief and worry over what they would find. He could feel his mind wanting to shut down, to close out the burn of his emotions and become the Soldier again. The feel of Darcy's other hand coming up to stroke his hair out of his eyes pulled him back into the present with a stuttering breath.

“There he is,” she sighed. “You checked out a little bit there for a second.”

He nodded at her, swallowing quickly and turning his face to kiss her palm. “I can't promise that I’ll be able to stop doing that, but I'll keep trying. And it helps when you’re there to pull me out of it.”

Darcy's answering smile was sweet and wide and tender. “Good thing I'm not going anywhere then, huh?” She pushed up onto her toes to plant a warm kiss across his cheek, then swept down along his jaw to capture his lips.

He groaned into her mouth when her dexterous little tongue slipped between his lips. “God, I wish we had more time before we left. So I could make up for some of that lack Nat was talking about.”

She hummed pleasantly against him, her lips closing over his bottom lip, sucking at it for a brief moment before releasing it with a soft, wet pop. “It's not so much lack,” she replied, eyes lit with mischief as her hand slid down to palm him through the front of his tac pants, “as it was absence.”

His hips bucked and he gave a guttural groan as she continued to stroke him through his pants. Obviously this was payback for how he'd treated her the last couple weeks. “Woman, you better unhand me. I don't know how long Nat can keep Steve occupied and we really do have to go.”

Darcy didn't reply, or desist her movements, just hummed at him distractedly and kept up those maddeningly slow strokes. When she gave him a particularly firm squeeze, he grabbed her wrist to still her damnable hand while a low growl sounded from the back of his throat. He bent at the waist and used his grip on her to pull her into a fireman’s carry and stalked out of the locker room, his cock pressed shamelessly against the front of his pants and his girl giggling hysterically into his shoulder.

Thankfully by the time he was stomping up the ramp onto the quinjet, his body had decided to settle down so he didn't make a complete fool of himself. Natasha met them with an arched brow at Darcy's position over his shoulder, but made no comment on it, simply closing the ramp and returning to the cockpit to sit next to Steve. Bucky set Darcy on her feet and they both seated themselves in preparation for take off.

The plan was to fly to Romania, landing relatively closely to the Latverian-Romanian border. It would give them time to change into civilian clothes and procure legitimate transportation across the border. With their fake IDs in tow, the crossing would be, hopefully, smooth and once they were successfully across the border, they were to locate the dead drop that one of Natasha's associates had set up for them. There they would be able to retrieve their necessary gear and weaponry for the op.

But until then, all they could do was sit and endure the six hour flight to Romania. The closer they got to their destination, the harder it became for Bucky to keep himself from alternating between blind panic and the icy detachment of the Soldier. When Nat announced that they would be landing within the hour, he reached over and scooped Darcy up into his lap, tucking her head under his chin and closing his eyes tightly against the play of emotion inside of him.

He focused on matching her breathing and heart rate, his thumb resting lightly against the side of her throat to track her pulse. The steady thrum of her heartbeat kept him occupied until at last the quinjet landed and he felt a heavy hand come down on his shoulder, rousing him from the trancelike state he'd fallen into. He looked up to see Steve's bright blue eyes staring down at him, his mouth in a grim line.

“We’re here. It's time.”