Chapter 16
Bucky moves through the apartment like a ghost, wading in and out of the shadows to reach Wanda's room. She watches him from the door as she locks up the apartment and then she leaves to fetch them drinks from the fridge. She's got work in the morning so maybe he shouldn't be here, maybe she shouldn't be getting them more to drink, but she wants to. She wants him to stay for just a little longer, and he wants to stay, too. So she grabs their drinks from the kitchen, another bottle of beer for Bucky and a glass of wine for herself, and she carries them to her room, to where Bucky is waiting for her.
The door only creaks a little as Wanda pushes it open, quick to step inside, to where she imagines she will find Bucky walking around her room, taking it all in, but he isn't. When she comes inside her room Wanda finds him sitting on the edge of her bed, waiting for her. He's staring out at the window, at all the city lights and colors that seep in. He's lost in it all until he realizes that she's back and he turns to her, smiling when he spots her by the half-opened door. Wanda smiles back and comes inside, closing the door behind her.
He takes the beer when it's offered, swallows a sip, then points to a vase of flowers sitting on the window. That bunch are from Pietro and Clint, while the bunch Bucky gave her are near the window in the kitchen, in the perfect spot where the sunlight seeps in, all bright and orange in the afternoon.
"Nice flowers. Carnations, right? Very nice." he smiles, glancing up at her. "They're pretty. But I have to say, I think the ones I got you are just a little nicer. Maybe I'm just biased, but I think mine were better."
Slowly Wanda smiles, as she takes a seat next to him on the bed. After she joins Bucky there he lifts his gaze away from her and back to the room, quietly glancing it over. He's curious, he always seem to be. His eyes flicker across the paintings scattered on the walls and the floors, to the lights hanging above the bed, the cluttered vanity filled with make-up and pieces of jewellery, before he eventually turns back to her.
"I think maybe you are right. Yours were very nice." she says, smiling back at him. "You told Steve about the carnations, didn't you? At Stark's party, he recognized me as the girl with the carnations. So you told him about that day?"
Something new flickers through Bucky's eyes now, it's something she's never seen in them before. He isn't embarrassed, that isn't it. Bucky doesn't seem like the type to get easily embarrassed, but it's close to it. Wanda doesn't know what it is, she just knows that while it's there Bucky avoids her gaze, only for a minute. Maybe it's less than a minute before he turns back to her, half of his face shadowed in darkness.
"He said something, huh? Of course he did. Yeah, I might have mentioned you. Once or twice." Bucky pauses, chewing on his lip as he smiles. "To be fair, I'm sure you probably told Barton and your brother all about me. And I'm sure you didn't talk so nicely about me. I was probably referred to as the jerk in the park. While you were talked about pretty nicely."
Smiling, she reaches for her wine. Wanda takes a sip while she lets herself think about that day in the market. She never thought he was a jerk, not at all, not even for a moment. She looks back on it all fondly as she moves to sit cross-legged on the bed.
"Really? What nice things did you say about me?"
That same look flickers over his face, soon replaced with something playful, almost sweet. He turns away, shrugging a little as he glances down to the bottle between his hands. Wanda watches as he strums his gloved fingers against the cold glass and she almost lingers on it, almost thinks about asking him why, but she doesn't want to. Not here, not tonight.
"Just that I felt bad, you know. Because I did hit you with my bike." he answers, turning back to her. "And then I bailed on you when we went for milkshakes. So yeah, I just felt bad that I was such a jerk when you seemed so sweet."
Wanda doesn't really mean to linger on it for so long but she does. Not just his words, but her brother's, too. From earlier in the night when he called her sweet. He's said it before, but not many have. She knows why, because she doesn't let herself get close, doesn't let herself feel or show affection to many, just to the ones she lets in. It takes a long time for Wanda to let people in, to let strangers get close, and somehow it already feels like Bucky is closer to her than she's let anyone be in a very long time.
"You weren't a jerk. Well, maybe just a little for the bike thing." Wanda smiles, bumping her shoulder into his. "So what did you tell Steve about me? He mentioned the broken carnations. And the blueberries. You told him about this? What did you say?"
He smiles and starts to shake his head as he looks away, looks down to the floorboards and the patterned rugs stretched across the floor. Bucky stares at them for a moment, like they're deeply interesting and he can't look away but she knows why he really can't look at her yet. He's nervous again, or maybe he isn't even nervous but there's something there, something going on in his mind that he isn't ready to share with her yet. With a sigh he gets to his feet, putting the bottle of beer down on the floor as he takes a step away to look at one of her paintings hanging on the wall.
"It was nothing, really." he answers, minutes later, like he's distracted by the art. "I just told Steve about this pretty girl I couldn't stop thinking about, that's all."
Her cheeks flush, only for a moment. Wanda takes a sip of wine, followed by another, before turning to look at Bucky again. He's still standing near the canvas hanging on the wall, moving from one piece of art to another. There aren't many so he moves on, taking a few quiet steps over to the flowers by the window.
"I think you say that about all of the girls."
Over by the window, Bucky laughs and glances over his shoulder to look back at her. There's a flower in his hand. He spins it around for a second then pops it back into the vase.
"Yeah, I did. I used to. What can I say? Girls are great."
For a moment after this there is nothing else, only silence, only the echo of his words in Wanda's room as she watches him lean in to get a closer look at the vase of flowers. Then he moves on to the bookshelf by her door stacked with books and filled with little objects and ornaments, mostly gifts from her brother. Wanda doesn't mind that he is looking, that he is taking his time looking at some of her most personal things. For some reason she doesn't mind at all.
"But now you don't say things like this to the girls?"
He shrugs, keeping his back towards her as he picks up an ornament from the bookshelf. Whatever it is, he turns it over in his hand then looks back at her, smiling. Through the darkness it's not hard to see what he's holding; the tiny gray dragon her brother picked up for her. Wanda smiles at the memory then at Bucky, as he takes another look at it before setting it down again.
"Now not so much." he answers, glancing back to the shelf. "These are cute. You collect them or something?"
"No, they were gifts." Wanda hesitates, watching him from afar. "So, what changed? Why do you not say nice things to girls anymore?"
There's a smile back on Bucky's lips when he steps away from the bookshelf, to face her, to get distracted by the vanity for a moment. He walks over to it slowly, smile still there as he glances over the bottles of perfume and the small piles of jewellery scattered all over it. He lingers for a second then comes back for his beer, not sitting with her on the bed, not yet. He just picks up the bottle of beer, swallows a little, then puts it down before he's off again, back over to the bookshelf.
"Why so many questions, red?" he calls back.
Then he bends over by the bookshelf to get a good look at all the books stacked up on it. He is so curious, she sees it now. So curious about her life, her room, her little ornaments and her piles of books. He is curious about her and it almost surprises her, because it's been so long since she let someone get this close, let someone be this curious about her. Wanda still doesn't understand why she feels so comfortable with Bucky, looking at her things (looking at her) in a way that no one ever has before.
"I just find it hard to believe." Wanda pauses, clearing her throat with a sip of wine. "That is all. I think you are very..."
This time she loses the words. Bucky's quick to notice, to stop what he's doing and turn back to her, eyes bright, smile a little bigger. She knows what she wants to say but she doesn't think she should say it, doesn't think she should tell Bucky what she thinks about him. That he is charming, and handsome, and very sweet. His heart is good, his eyes are pretty, and there is something about his smile that Wanda can't begin to find the words for.
"What? I'm very, what?" he asks, curious. "Tall, dark, and broody?"
"Handsome. You are handsome and sweet, and I think you know this." Wanda answers, running her finger idly around the edge of her glass. "I think you know this and that you know that girls like you. So I am not sure I believe you."
Bucky lingers for a moment then turns away, scooping a handful of books off the shelf. He walks around with them for a minute, flicking through pages, reading the covers, while still looking up at Wanda every now and then just to let her know that he's still and that he isn't lost in his head again.
"That's sweet of you to say, red. But we're gonna have to agree to disagree on most of what you just said."
It makes Wanda smile as she puts her glass of wine down on the nightstand and climbs off the bed, to fetch a jug of water from the kitchen. When she returns she comes over to the flowers by the window, pours a little water into the vase, then steps back and turns to Bucky by her side.
"You've got a lot of books here. You a big reader?"
She nods. "Sometimes. Do you work in the morning?"
"Nah, not really. I've got a couple things to do, but I don't work tomorrow." he says, placing three or four books back on the shelf. "You're working tomorrow, right? Early start?"
"Not too early." she answers, then leaves him by the window. "I don't mind if you want to stay a little longer."
Then she stops, thinking it over. Wanda doesn't want him to leave yet. She almost wants to ask him to stay the night, and maybe she shouldn't. She tries to convince herself to say nothing, because they are just back to being like this and she doesn't want to risk ruining it. But she isn't asking him to stay for any reason, other than she enjoys his company and she doesn't want him to go.
"I don't mind if you want to stay the night."
This makes Bucky stop what he's doing and look up at her. He hesitates for a second, places the books in his hand down on the shelf, then quickly looks back to Wanda with the faintest smile still on his lips. He takes a step over, a long and slow step, and it's now that she picks up on something else, something new. It's barely there in his eyes before it's gone and then he's closer, watching her with an uncertain look in his eyes.
His gaze follows her, over to her bed where she settles against her pillows and picks up her glass of wine. Bucky looks like he wants to join her, he looks like he wants to stay, but for a minute he says nothing.
"So?" Wanda lifts an eyebrow.
"I—yeah, that. I probably shouldn't stay." he stops, then begins to smile. "But then again I tend to do a lot of things I shouldn't. So who knows what might happen?"
"Like, what? What do you do that you shouldn't?"
More of a smile comes through on his face now. Then he shrugs as he walks over to the bed, joining her there. Bucky sits down on the edge, picks up his beer, and drinks a sip. When he's done he puts it back down on the floor and then turns to face her, and as he looks at her Wanda almost wants to ask him why he's putting space between the two of them again. She leaves it and waits, for the answer that he eventually gives her.
"Just stupid things, you know?"
Her smiles stays. "So you don't want to sleep over?"
Bucky runs his tongue over his lower lip, considering it. He looks like he wants to say yes, wants to stay the night with her, but he's still uncertain. He still can't make up his mind. While he thinks it over, she gives him space. Wanda watches quietly as his eyes flicker over the room before he leans back on the bed, turning to her with a sweet almost smile.
"Aren't your brother and Barton sleeping next door?" he asks, quieter this time. "You said something about them needing their sleep. Yeah, I'm an asshole sometimes but I'd hate for us to wake them if they gotta get up early."
It's only now that she understands it all. His tension, the look in his eyes, the way he looked at her. She gets it now, what he thinks she's asking him to stay the night for. She almost laughs, almost chokes on her wine as she drinks it.
"I'm not asking you to stay over for sex." she's quick to tell him. "You looked tired, I thought maybe you wanted to sleep over."
He hesitates, then smiles a little more. "Oh. Like, actually sleep over? Like a sleepover?"
Wanda nods, observing him as he reaches for his beer and drinks half. He's a little embarrassed now but he hides it well. He stops when there's only half of his beer left, glances over at her, then swiftly finishes the rest off. When the bottle is empty he stands and places it on the nightstand by the bed.
"So, my bad. I just—It's been a long time since someone asked me to a sleepover, that's all." he tells her, a hint of warmth in his eyes. "Your bed looks nice, by the way. Looks comfy. I'm sorry that was awkward. I'm glad it's not anymore. And I'm glad we're on the same page now, that sex is out of the question. It's good we didn't get our lines crossed."
Whatever this is, whatever it becomes, she wants them to take their time getting to know each other. Wanda still doesn't know what it is or what it will be, but she knows that she likes his company and if he wants to stay the night then she wants him to. She's spent so many nights on her own, struggling to sleep, consumed by dreams. If he wants to stay for the night, or even for just a few hours, she'd be happy with that.
"What?" he asks, what feels like hours later.
It's only now that Wanda realizes she's smiling. She shrugs, sinks deeper into her pillow, and starts to fidget with the ring on her index finger. A silver band with a black stone in the middle.
"Nothing. It is nothing. You are just cute when your lines are crossed." Wanda says, smiling more. "And when you don't know what to say or how to say it. I think it is cute."
Bucky laughs, probably louder than he means to, as he joins her on the bed. He sits a little closer this time, but he's only there for a minute before he's moving again. Shrugging off his dark jacket with ease. He drops it down onto the edge of the bed then takes a seat again, closer this time, and it's now that Wanda gets a clear look at the dark v-neck shirt he's wearing. The shirt is tight, it fits him well. Wanda lingers for a minute longer than she means before shifting her gaze back to Bucky, who she discovers is smiling at her like he knows what she was thinking. But if he knows, he says nothing for the moment.
She sighs. "What?"
"I'm just glad we cleared things up." Bucky says, then he's moving again. Over to the empty side of the bed. "You know, about the sex and sleeping over thing. I'm glad we sorted that out. And I'm glad it wasn't awkward or anything."
Still smiling, she watches Bucky as he stretches out next to her. Once he's settled he props one hand underneath his head, flattens the other against his chest, and makes a point of hanging his feet off the edge of her bed, since his boots are still on. He's close now, closer than he's let himself be in a while, and it reminds Wanda of Stark's party. It reminds her of the night they laid underneath the window, staring up at the sky, shoulder to shoulder. She feels as close to him now as she did then.
Wanda remembers that night in pieces; lighting the joint by the window, the breeze that sifted through the apartment, Bucky by her side, stretched out on the floor. She remembers staring up at the sky, at the wind-chime by the window, and then at the light in his eyes. It's like that now but a little different. There aren't any stars above their heads tonight but there are lights. Tiny little lights dangling from the ceiling that still catch Bucky's attention like they're as interesting as the sky was that night. He stares up at them for a while until she speaks and he turns his head to look at her.
"And I am glad we talked so you could make it clear that sex is out of the question. That is good to know, what is in the question and what is out of it."
"Yeah. That didn't.." Bucky stops, clears his throat, then starts to smile again. "You know that probably didn't come out the way I meant it."
Smiling, she lifts her head up to the lights. His gaze follows her there soon and for a while they stare up there, lost in their heads, in the lights and in the comfort of having the other there. It's quiet between them for a moment until he speaks, until he makes her laugh again.
"Really, it didn't come out the way I meant. Like you said, I got my lines crossed." he smiles, glancing up at her. "I feel like if I keep talking I'm just gonna dig myself a deeper hole. So I'm gonna stop now, since our lines are all uncrossed and everything."
Wanda laughs quietly, staring up at the lights for one more minute before she turns to face him. She rolls herself over on her side to face him, props a hand up underneath her head, and then smiles at him in a way that is softer this time, a little less playful and a little more sincere.
"You don't have to stay over, by the way." she says quietly. "I thought you looked tired, that it might be easier if you wanted to stay. But you don't have to stay, I don't mind. I just wanted you to know that."
Something in his cheek tightens. He smiles slowly.
"I appreciate the offer, doll. I really do. But I won't spend the night, just because I have it on good authority that I can be difficult to sleep next to. With you working early in the morning, it wouldn't be fair. So really, I'm just being a good guy and doing the right thing here."
It fills her with a deep curiosity, and with too many questions. She wants to ask, to know. That is her problem sometimes. She always wants to know, to learn more, to learn as much as possible. She doesn't want tonight to be about that. She wants it to be simple, and quiet, and fun. Wanda sits up suddenly, reaching for the pack of cigarettes in the drawer by her bed only to realize there's just one left. There's another pack in the kitchen but she doesn't feel like going all the way out there yet. So she stays, lighting the one cigarette for the two of them to share.
"Really?" she asks, faintly smiling.
Before he answers, Bucky takes his glove off. Just the one on his right hand. He slips it off, tosses it aside, and then reaches for the lit cigarette after she offers it to him. Wanda's curiosity only grows but she doesn't ask. She won't ask, not again, not until it feels like he wants to talk about it and it's so clear tonight that he doesn't want to talk about all of that. She won't push him, she never would. She knows what it's like, she knows that they all have their own stories and their own scars that they hide away and keep to themselves. She says nothing about his, not tonight, she just takes the cigarette back after he offers it and then meets his gaze as he smiles up at her.
"Oh, yeah. Apparently, I'm a kicker."
Wanda knows what he's trying to do. It's simple, really. He's trying to make her happy, to distract her the same way she tries to distract him, with questions, and jokes, and stories that may not always be true. And it works. Wanda feels distracted, happy even, as she laughs at Bucky and watches him roll over on his side, mirroring her earlier movements. He ends up stretched out on the bed like her, a hand propped underneath his head, the other free to take the cigarette back when he wants it.
"So? I kick, too."
"Yeah, but you're like a kitten. That wouldn't hurt. It'd be cute." Bucky points out, grinning. "I've also heard from several sources that I'm a biter. I bite in my sleep and I grind my teeth."
She furrows her brow. "Really?"
"Yeah, really. Just ask Steve. I get loud, and annoying, and I may even snore. So no, I won't stay the night. Not this time." Bucky smiles, dragging himself upwards. "Not if you actually want to get some sleep. Maybe another time I'll stay and you can see it for yourself."
He settles back against the headboard after this, quiet as he enjoys his cigarette. Wanda's gaze follows him and soon she moves, sitting back against the pillows next to him. Why? she wants to know, to ask. Why does she feel disappointed? She's not even sure that's what she's feeling right now, but there's something there. And it's something that Bucky picks up on.
"I don't mind staying for a couple hours." he adds, smiling again. "If you don't mind my company, that is. Feel free to drift off at any point that I start to bore you and I'll just let myself out."
With more of a smile back on her lips, Wanda takes the cigarette out of his hand. She inhales on it slowly then passes it back, ready to leave to get them more drinks from the kitchen. He won't stay the night, he probably won't stay for long, but she doesn't mind. Wanda's just happy that he's here right now, and that her bad day somehow turned into such a good night.
"Wait, so you really did not know? That is why I asked you to stay, James. Not for conversations or for sex, but for your company that bores me to sleep. That's why."
In the seconds that follow, Bucky can't hide his smile. It darts across his lips and almost fades, before it comes back suddenly, brighter than it's ever been before. Then he laughs, squeezing his eyes shut in a way that is sweet. Cute, even. His eyes open soon and follow Wanda, as she wiggles towards the edge of the bed, ready to get their drinks and cigarettes from the kitchen.
"Right. Yeah, of course. That makes perfect sense. You know, I think you might actually be the nicest person I've ever met."
Wanda smiles, climbing to her feet. "Be careful, James. It sounds like you might be starting to like me."
"Oh, no. I wouldn't worry about that, doll." he smiles, watching her from his spot on her bed. "That's just the alcohol talking."
With a roll of her eyes, Wanda leaves him. She slips out of her room, quietly closing the door behind her, but she doesn't move right away. She leans back into the door, pressing herself against it as she smiles. How? she wants to know, needs to know how it's possible that her day went from being so bad to so good. She wants to ask herself this but she already knows the answer, she's known it since their date, since the night of Stark's party.
It's all because of him.
* * * *
"So you art is pretty nice. You sell it anywhere?"
Wanda is stretched out on her back, staring up at the ceiling with a joint between her fingers and her legs tangled over Bucky's, when he brings up her art. She doesn't mind, she had the feeling he might mention it after he spent so long staring at her paintings earlier in the night. Wanda doesn't mind, not really. She's just glad that she didn't find the canvas tucked away under her bed, the one she painted of him on that perfect afternoon he drove away from the city and towards the sunset.
At the sound of his voice, Wanda looks over at him. He's on the bed next to her, already watching her. Wanda catches his gaze, smiles, then sits up slowly, passing him back the joint. She doesn't know what time it is, doesn't really know how long he's been here in her room, telling bad jokes and drinking almost all of their beer. Wanda just knows that it feels like it's been hours. It almost feels like they've spent days together, locked away in the quiet of her room.
"They aren't very good. It is just the light." she mumbles, smiling slowly. "It is just your eyes, that's all."
He frowns a little, then offers her what's left of the joint. Wanda takes it and puts it away, into the bowl by her bed. They're done with that for now. When she settles back in on the bed, untangling her legs from his, she finds Bucky watching her and waiting for an answer, for some kind of explanation for what she's talking about.
"The dark light, silly. Your eyes are not good in this light. You don't see things the way they are, just the way you think they are."
She thinks that he must blink at least three or four times before he answers, as if there is a hidden meaning to her words.
"What, because I'm old or something?" Bucky grins. "That's the joke you're going with? Really? How original."
"No, I just mean—you can't see them because it is so dark, and the paintings are old, so you don't know what they really look like."
Bucky hums in response, shifting his gaze away from her and over to the open window that is still letting air and light seep into the space. As he stares out at it, Wanda reaches for his beer from the night-stand and passes it to him. There's a look in his eyes, something playful and suspicious, as he reaches out for the bottle.
"Here." she smiles, sincere. For a moment. "Drink up, old man."
In seconds his face lights up. Bucky laughs, swipes the beer away, and finishes the rest of it in a few sips. She doesn't know how many drinks he's had now, or how many glasses of wine she's had. Wanda just remembers making a few more trips back to the kitchen, for more drinks, for M&Ms that Bucky ate most of, and for other little sweets and snacks. She smiles a little more thinking about it, and the possibility of the fridge being half empty in the morning. With that on her mind, Wanda takes the empty bottle from Bucky when he's done and lines it up on the floor with the others.
"That sounds like a whole of of B.S. Just saying." he points out, looking like he's tempted to roll his eyes. "And that old man comment? I'm not that old. But thanks for the kind words. You really know how to make a guy feel special."
"What can I say? I am a nice person—"
"Okay, so back to what I was saying." Bucky groans, grin still there. "Back to what I was saying before you insulted me. Again. We were talking about your art. So you don't sell it?"
She shrugs, tempted to look away. "No, not anymore."
"That's a shame. I think it's nice. I bet it would have spruced my place up."
Hiding a smile, she squeezes her eyes shut and thinks about it. She spends a minute thinking about how nice it feels to be here, how sweet he is underneath the exterior he sometimes keeps up. Tonight it feels like he's here, like he's more present than he's ever been before, and because of this she feels a little more connected to him than she has before. She doesn't want to make fun of him, he isn't an old man. She doesn't know his age, she really doesn't know all that much about him.
He's just fun to play with sometimes.
"Spruced? You really just said that?"
"Yeah, I did. Apparently, I did." he laughs, bumping his arm against hers. "What, are the kids not saying things like that anymore?"
She shakes her head, opening her eyes to meet his. Bucky's smile only widens and for a moment he lingers on her, lets himself get close, lets himself memorize it, before he squeezes his eyes shut like she did a minute ago.
"Ah, damn. Well I guess that's my fault. I went away for a while and missed a whole chunk of time. Then I came back and everything was different. I didn't really know what was going on anymore, but I guess that's life. Happens to everyone eventually."
It means more to her than she expects it to. His confession, those little words. I guess that's life. It leaves Wanda curious about him, more curious than she already is, and she finds herself longing to know more. It feels like she shouldn't ask most of her questions, not tonight, not until he's ready for her to. But this feels okay because he mentioned it, because of the quiet that lingers afterwards and leaves her feeling like he won't mind if she asks just one or two of her questions.
"Where did you go? To fight a war?"
Bucky nods, eyes still shut. "Yeah. Something like that."
His smile is still there but only faintly, only sort of there, before it twitches like it might fade. Somehow she knows where he is now, where his mind is pulling him to. He is back in old memories, in a war, in the man he was before he went to war. She can't look into his eyes, can't read any of it on his face when his eyes are squeezed so tightly shut, but she can still feel it. Wanda can still feel how heavy and personal it is for him. She's not sure she can do much to help but she still wants to try, wants to do something to get his mind away from these thoughts and on to better ones.
"Tell me something, Bucky?"
Wanda doesn't know if it's the first time she's called him Bucky, but it feels like it. Feels new, feels different, for both of them. At the sound of her saying his name, Bucky cracks an eye open to look up at her. She can't read him, there is still too much going on in his head, but there is a look she catches in his eye that tells her that he doesn't mind that she has questions because he has his own. Maybe one day he will ask his questions and she will ask hers. Right now she only has one more thing she wants to know.
"Depends on what you want to know, doll."
For a minute Wanda pretends to consider it, pretends to need time to think about it, when she already knows what her question will be. She believes that she already knows just what to say to make him smile, to take his focus off the dark thoughts that linger in his mind and move it on to something else, something less painful.
"Can you really dance?" she asks.
And then he smiles again. He gives her that bright and wide smile, and for a moment his entire face lights up. With happiness, with amusement. He laughs quietly and as he does Wanda feels a strange urge to reach out, to touch the lines around his smile, to memorize it. She doesn't. She keeps her hands to herself and watches as he opens both eyes and looks up to her, smile still there, bigger than it's ever been. And as he stares up at her, as he smiles at her, Wanda is consumed with thoughts about how lovely he is.
"Really? This again? I have to say, your lack of faith in me is kinda disheartening." he counters, quick. "It almost makes me want to never, ever, ever dance in front of you. Just so you never get to witness how good it really is."
She lifts an eyebrow, smiling more. "But then you will never get to prove me wrong, and I feel like this is something that you would enjoy doing."
Bucky barely pretends to consider it. "Yeah, you're right. I do like doing that. Oh, and to answer your question: yes. I can dance and I'm pretty good at it when I want to be."
Slowly her eyes flicker over him before she makes herself look away, makes herself not linger on him too long or too closely. Wanda forces herself to look up at the ceiling but even as she does all that she can think about is Bucky. His smile, the way his arms felt around her when they hugged on the rooftop, and that look he sometimes gets in his eyes when he watches her.
"Maybe you will have to take me dancing tonight."
For a long time after this, Bucky is quiet. Then it clicks.
"Oh yeah. Right. That. Our date. That old thing."
Wanda turns to him, instantly amused. "You forgot?"
"Nah, not for a second. It's just that something came up. Not with the date. I just meant something came up with my bike and I don't have it right now, that's all."
Afterwards he watches her as she reaches for her wine, drinks a little, then offers it to him. Bucky shakes his head, not moving from where he's still stretched out on her bed. It's funny how small it looks now with someone else on it. Small, but not too small. She doesn't dwell on it beyond that, she just swallows another sip of wine then moves the glass away again.
"You're disappointed." he says, watching her closely.
Wanda settles beside him and nods, letting out a sigh.
"Yes. Because the only reason I wanted to spend time with you was for your bike. That must be it."
For about three seconds, Bucky pretends to be hurt. Then it passes because he can't make it last, he can't stop himself from smiling. Or from nudging her arm gently, like he's done all night, like she remembers him doing on the walk home that night. It feels good between the two of them again. It feels calm, and relaxed, and so good. It's better than anything she's felt around a stranger in a long time, only he isn't a stranger anymore. He's someone she's learning more about, someone she's beginning to know. In time she will know more, in time they will grow closer than they are now, and that thought excites her.
"Yeah, sure. I understand that. But don't worry too much, I'll get the ol' girl all fixed up in time for our second date."
At first it makes her want to laugh. Then it takes her back, to dinner last night, to the night he came to her apartment and said he wanted to ask her out on a date. Maybe last night wasn't a date but it meant something. It was special, like this is, like he is. And from the way she catches Bucky looking at her when she looks up at him she can tell that this means something to him, too.
"What will we do then? If we aren't riding around the city like you promised, what will do?" Wanda asks, curious again. "If you don't have anything planned, don't worry. We can have drinks—"
"Hey, hey. I've got plans, I'm an organized guy. You just wait and see what I've got planned, red. It's gonna blow your mind, trust me."
She hums, turning away to the open space of her bedroom. Everything is dark, and still, and lit up in shadows. She stares out at it all for a while as Bucky moves on the bed next to her, getting comfortable. After he's settled he lets out a sigh. She imagines that his eyes are shut now, that he is going to rest for a while, but when she looks over she finds that his eyes are wide and bright, like his mind is filled with thoughts and possibilities, and so she wonders if he really has something planned.
Or if he is going to, as Clint says, wing it.
"I would be happy with anything, really. You don't have to look so worried." she says, glancing him over briefly. "And just so you know, I heard what you said before."
Bucky fakes innocence, lifting an eyebrow. "What do you mean? You'll have to jog my memory. I'm an old man. Remember?"
With a sigh, she leans in and nudges his arm. "You called it a date. You know this. You have called it that before."
He begins to frown, slowly it spreads across his features. All traces of a smile vanish and he pretends that, once again, he's lost.
"Wait. It's not a date?"
I want it to be, she thinks, but keeps to herself. Maybe it doesn't matter what she wants it to be, maybe that was never up to them. Maybe all they can do is show up and see what happens. Wanda still doesn't know what this is, still doesn't know where it's going to take them, but she has hope. She is so filled with hope, and the feeling is so new, so nice, that she can't help but smile.
"I don't know what it is yet."
It's good enough for Bucky. He smiles like he'd been thinking the same thing.
"That's fine. We don't have to give it a name yet. Let's just have dinner and see where it takes us."
Wanda thinks it over, curious again. There's a part of her that already wants to be at dinner with him, already wants to be there, just to enjoy it, to spend more time with him. And then there's the part of her that is glad it isn't here yet, that there is still time to be here with him tonight because this is nice, too.
"So we are having dinner somewhere?"
"Nice try, Maximoff. That was a good one. But I'm not giving anything away." he smirks. "You're gonna have to go all day wondering what I've got planned, and even when I pick you up—"
"Pick me up, on what?"
Bucky stops, considers it, then gives her a look. One that tells her, without words, that she is going to regret asking him that. His eyes are brighter suddenly, a little more playful.
"You really want me to bring a bike, huh? Fine, I'll steal one. But if I get caught, I'm blaming you." he shrugs, still faintly smiling. "Or maybe I'll just borrow a bike. Maybe that's simpler. But hey, if there's not enough room you're riding up front in the basket. Got it?"
There's a pause. He turns to her, smiling more, in a way that lets her know that he is as excited for this as she is.
"And if it's a bike with tassels and a loud annoying horn, that makes everyone on the block look at us? Then that's just what's gonna happen, doll. You sure you're ready for that?"
Smiling, she turns away and closes her eyes.
"I think I would rather walk than sit in a basket. But you should keep this bike with the tassels and horn. You would look very suave on that bike. I think all the girls would like it."
He's quiet for a minute, and she imagines it's because he's trying not to laugh. Wanda imagines that he is smiling and it makes her smile more. She only realizes it now, how much she's smiled tonight and how good it's felt just being around him. It stays on her mind, as she tucks her arms around herself and lets out a sigh.
"Good to know, red. And as always, another great joke."
The minutes go by after this. Wanda loses them, doesn't try to count them. She stays where she is, eyes shut, arms around herself, still aware of Bucky on the bed next to her. She likes the way it feels, she thinks she might have missed it. To have someone there, to not feel so completely alone.
"I'm glad that you came by." she says, what feels like a while later. "This has not been so bad. It has almost been nice."
Bucky chuckles softly. "Me too. When you're not insulting me or making fun of me, you're actually almost nice."
"And you are kind of dramatic."
He laughs sweetly. "Well, someone's gotta be when Barton's not around."
It's a simple comment but it takes her back, to her last conversation with her brother, to what she now knows about the two of them. They are in love. The good kind of love, the pure kind. She is so happy for them but that isn't what's on her mind now. It is something else, something she feels like she has to ask, has to hear, just once.
"You two are close?" she asks, quieter this time.
"Yeah. I've known him a long time."
That's when Wanda opens her eyes, seeking him out. She looks up to find Bucky staring at the ceiling, distracted by the lights. When he realizes that she's looking at him again he looks down at her, smiling slowly.
"He is like family to you? Like a brother, yes?"
Bucky frowns a little, smile still there, still warm. Then the little lines on his face that were starting to turn into a frown fade away. His face becomes warmer, softer even, and in this second he allows her to see how much he cares, about Clint, about all of his friends. He cares, even if he doesn't believe that he deserves it. He loves them, and he cares so much, and Wanda can't even put into words what it means that he's letting her in, letting her see this side of him.
"Yeah, you could say that. He's family, always will be. But don't tell that asshole I said that or it'll go straight to his head and I'll never hear the end of it."
Wanda smiles more, watching him closely. "You are all like family. I saw it at Stark's party. You tease each other and make jokes, but you still care. You still love each other. That is very sweet, James."
He spends a long time thinking it over. From the look on his face, it's clear he spends more time thinking about it than he means to. She can't get much of a read of him, not yet. She can only tell that he is thinking about a lot. That too many thoughts are coming in and out of his head, and with the thoughts come the memories and the doubts that always creep back in. If they linger, he doesn't show it. His face is still soft, still filled with something bright and warm.
"Yeah, when you put it like that it does sound sweet. But those guys can be jerks. You should hear about some of the shit they've pulled." he says, smiling more. "But maybe that's a story for another night. Why are you asking about Clint, anyway? You know him, you know what kinda guy he is."
She shrugs, turning her gaze away. First to the ceiling, then to her hands linked together on her chest.
"Yes, I know him. I've known him for as long as he's dated my brother, which is longer than my brother has dated anyone. So yes I know him, I am just.."
Wanda stops again, searching for the words.
"My brother is in love."
When she looks back, Bucky's smile is still bright, still filled with endless warmth. And as he smiles at her, Wanda feels a pull back to the night of Stark's party, to the game they played. Never have I ever been in love. It stays on her mind as she watches Bucky's smile change, becoming playful again.
"What, with Barton?" he grimaces. "Your poor brother, falling in love with that jerk."
She nudges his arm, tempted to roll her eyes. "Clint is a good man."
"I know that. So why are you asking me about him if you know it, too?" Bucky asks, and then he gets it. "Oh, right. Look, Barton's family. We tease each other, but he's family. I'm happy for him. If anyone deserves love, happiness, and all of that other crap, then it's him. And don't worry, Clint would never do anything to hurt your brother."
It's nice to hear it but she's always known it. She never doubted Clint, never thought for a second that he'd hurt Pietro, but it still feels good to hear it from someone who has known Clint for years and years.
"I was only worried for my brother because he has never been in love like this before. He has been in love, I mean. Some kind of love, a different kind. But not like this. Never like this. I just want them to be happy."
"Wanda, trust me. You'll never find a more decent guy than Barton. I mean that, with all of my heart." Bucky promises, so soft, so sincere. "He's got a good heart and the best intentions. He hasn't said it to me yet but sometimes you just know when a man's in love. And he's in love with your brother. So don't worry about it. Alright? Be happy for them. It'll all work out in the end."
There is suddenly too much on Wanda's mind. Too many thoughts, too many questions. She lingers on a few then forces the rest away. She is tired now, she can see that Bucky is, too. But her mind is awake and she feels as if she has to ask, has to know, if it really is as easy as he makes it sound.
"You believe that? You believe it will all just work out in the end? And that it is as simple as that?"
He hesitates, jaw tight for a moment. "For them? Yeah, I do. Because they're good people. They know how to make it work. They're meant to be, and all of that other sappy love stuff."
The game from the party comes back to Wanda again. His answers and hers. Never have I ever been in love. Never have I ever been in love. It plays over in her head and she can't stop it, can't keep her next question to herself.
"What about you?" she asks. "Do you think it will all work out for you in the end? That you will find love and, as you said, all that other..All that comes with it. Do you think you will find it?"
For a long time after this Bucky is quiet. Then he turns to her and smiles, and it's different. A little less bright, maybe. He doesn't turn away from her, even though it looks like he wants to. He stays, holding her curious gaze with his own.
"I'll just say that I don't know that everyone gets a happy ending. But, you? Don't worry, red. You will. Of course you will."
Wanda opens her mouth to answer, to say something, or anything at all. In the end she can't. She can't find the words, not yet, so she closes her mouth and looks back up at the lights again. The quiet floods back in, heavy this time. She squeezes her eyes shut for a second, wanting to ask Bucky why he believes that, and why it feels like he doesn't believe that he deserves a happy ending. There's suddenly too much on her mind and Wanda doesn't want any of it there, so she pushes it away.
She lets out a sigh and forces the thoughts from her mind, leaving them for another night. Then she moves, reaching out for the blanket folded up at the end of the bed next to Bucky's jacket. She shakes the red blanket out then leans back against the bed, covering herself up with it. The bed feels bigger now, like there's more space between them than there was before.
"How do you know?" she asks, she can't help it.
By her side, Bucky shrugs a little. She doesn't look, she just feels it, feels the bed shift as he moves.
"Don't know. I'm good at reading people." he says, quiet for a moment. "And sometimes you just know."
That's all he gives her. It's the only explanation she gets for why he thinks she deserves a happy ending, why it feels like he believes everyone in his life deserves a happy ending except him. Wanda doesn't know if she even believes in those anymore, but when she looks at her brother, so in love with Clint, she finds herself feeling hopeful that they will get the good things they deserve.
"You should know, I'm better at it." she says, smiling to herself. "I'm better at reading people than you are."
He laughs quietly again, and it sounds so nice, so familiar. Wanda can sense it now, that he is tired, that even if he won't stay the night that he might rest for a few hours. She feels him move on the bed beside her a minute later, and when she looks down at him she discovers that his eyes are shut, his hands are locked together over his chest, and his glove is back on. She doesn't ask, doesn't even linger on it. Wanda just looks away, leaving him to his thoughts as she starts to get lost in her own before he speaks, before he brings her back.
"You know what, red..That sounds like a challenge." he points out, minutes later. "One I'm not sure you'd win."
"I'd be happy to prove you wrong on this. But not tonight."
The rest goes unspoken. I am tired now, is what she never says, what she doesn't have to say. It's something Bucky understands, something he feels. He doesn't say it but she can feel it. She wonders why he is so tired, if he had bad day, too. Then she wonders if he couldn't sleep last night like she often can't. She counts herself lucky on the nights she drifts off without any trouble. Somehow she feels like tonight will be one of those nights, one of the few that she drifts off peacefully.
"Another night." he says warmly, sounding as if he's smiling. "I'm looking forward to it, red."
There is more that she wants to say, but she ends up saying nothing. Wanda wants to tell him that she's looking forward to it, to another night, to many more nights. She also wants to thank him for being here, for coming back, but once again it feels like something that doesn't need to be said, like it is something he already knows.
Wanda doesn't know how long goes by before she opens her eyes again. The room looks the same, still dark, still covered with both shadows and lights. Bucky is still there. She knows it hasn't been that long, maybe five or ten minutes. His eyes are still shut, his hands are still folded over his chest, and if she knew better she'd think he was sleeping. Somehow she just knows that he isn't, even if he looks like he is. It's only after a moment of watching him that she realizes that he doesn't have any of the blanket covering him up. It isn't a cold night, he doesn't look cold, but she still moves. She still sits up, tugs the blanket over to Bucky's side, and covers him with the soft fabric.
She makes sure he's comfortable, make sure he's warm, before she settles back in on her side of the bed, closing her eyes again. It must be minutes later that she feels it, feels Bucky move next to her. Wanda's eyes are squeezed shut, just like his are, so she doesn't see it but she feels it. She feels the bed move as Bucky comes closer.
He hesitates, she feels that, too. Then he reaches for her hand. It's slow, his touch is subtle, barely there at first. She becomes aware of it slowly, the sensation of his hand reaching for hers. He is so soft, so unsure. Wanda reacts gently by moving her hand closer and gently sliding her fingers between his. And then she holds on. When their fingers are linked together, she holds on and so does he. The feeling of his hand in hers, even with the glove on, is so warm, so welcomed, that she begins to smile.
"It's nice having you here, James." she says quietly, sometime later. "Will you stay? For just a little longer?"
Bucky doesn't answer right away. He takes a minute, stays quiet, as he gives her hand a gentle squeeze. Once, then twice. And as he does Wanda can only think about how there is already something so familiar, so warm, between the two of them, like they were always meant to end up here. By the time he answers, she's half-asleep. She welcomes the sound of his voice, lets herself drift off thinking about it and the feeling of his hand in hers.
"Of course, Wanda. I'll stay 'till you drift off."