[Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers; PG-13] Everything In Nature (Part 2) Character/Series: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers; Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: PG-13 Notes: Continued from Part 1 Title: Everything In Nature Author:yuuo Word Count: 8555 Summary:They let the kitten mostly wander around on her own, both occasionally hunting her down to whatever trouble she was getting into to make sure she was okay and hadn't broken or shredded anything, but she mostly behaved.
They let the kitten mostly wander around on her own, both occasionally hunting her down to whatever trouble she was getting into to make sure she was okay and hadn't broken or shredded anything, but she mostly behaved. She got lost a couple times back in the hallway, and it was inevitably Bucky who was sent to rescue her. When Bucky demanded to know why Steve couldn't get off his lazy butt to do it himself, Steve gave him the weakass excuse that he had to stay by his computer to watch for a call from Tony or Pepper.
Bucky threatened to drop the kitten on his keyboard again. Steve gave him one of those looks that Bucky's younger siblings had taught him that manipulated Bucky into doing their bidding. Bucky swore at him, but got up and led the kitten back into the main living area.
It was almost at the two hour deadline that Pepper had given them when Steve's video phone program pinged with an incoming call. Bucky put his tablet down, leaning over slightly to see the screen. The caller ID said it was Tony. "Okay, so I'm going to guess that Pepper's charms worked," he said.
"We'll find out," Steve said, clicking the accept call button.
Tony's face popped up on screen, and he looked pissed. "I hate you two," he said. "I want you to know that I have to curse you with the Stark family curse that will damn you both to generations of pain and suffering and bad things, because you are bad people and you should feel bad."
Tony's intimidation tactics failed to work, as both Bucky and Steve busted up laughing at his expense. "Pepper must've talked to you," Steve said. Bucky moved his chair around so he wasn't straining to see the screen.
"Oh, she talked to me," Tony said, still sounding like he was trying to kill them with his brain. "Do you know what she said? She didn't say 'Bucky and Steve found a kitten they need to find a home for and I want her.' No, she said 'Tony, we need to talk.' Which is the most horrifying thing a woman can say to a man. Do you know how much I wanted to wet myself in fear?"
Bucky laid his head down on the table, shoulders shaking from the effort to not keep laughing. Steve didn't bother with trying. "You wouldn't be the first man in existence to hear that," Steve told him.
"Not the point," Tony said. "Especially not when she followed it up with, and I quote, 'my biological clock is ticking and I want something small and cute around the house.'" Bucky gave up on trying not to laugh. "It's not funny!" Tony growled at them. "Do you have any idea how bad I am with kids? They're fragile, you hold them wrong and they break. They drool. They spit up on your nice shirt right before you go out and don't have time to change. They require someone to wipe their butts for them. They drip snot. They have sticky fingers and grab at everything. They talk gibberish, even after you've managed to teach them English. They color on walls and knock over expensive things and break them. And then they expect you to read them a bedtime story and demand a kiss. No. Never happening. So thank you both for making my heart stop ticking for about five minutes. I thought I was going to have an aneurysm. My life flashed before my eyes."
Bucky was finally able to lift his head to look at the screen, although he still had an awful case of the giggles that wouldn't go away. "Tony, be glad you were an only child," he said.
"I am," Tony said. "I thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster every day for that blessing. But that doesn't change the fact that I will find a way to reach through the internet to strangle you both. I don't want to wait until tomorrow, when I can get there to pick up the damn cat."
"Just think," Steve said. "After being threatened with kids, a cat probably seems pretty palatable."
Tony didn't look terribly amused. "Which is why she used that tactic. It's underhanded, and you two gave her opportunity to use it. Where is she? Do I at least get to see what she looks like? If I'm adopting her, she'd better at least have my eyes."
Steve looked at Bucky. "Go get her," he said. He glanced behind him. "I think she's gotten herself lost again, anyway."
"Lost? In that tiny apartment?" Tony sighed theatrically. "Great, you're giving me Dummy II."
"She's four months old," Steve said while Bucky got up and searched for the cat.
He walked down the hall, glancing first into the spare bedroom where the litter box was, then into the bathroom, and finally into the bedroom. He found her in the closet, head first in one of Steve's running shoes. Bucky wrinkled his nose in disgust. "How the hell can you stand the smell of sweaty feet?" he demanded, picking her up. She squirmed and cried in protest. "Settle down, you can play again in a bit."
Tony was still complaining when Bucky returned to his seat. "You know, you could've just asked me," Tony was saying.
"Would you have said yes?" Steve asked, tone and expression completely disbelieving what he was hearing.
"Probably not, but it would've been polite," Tony said. "Now, let me see the flea factory."
Bucky handed the kitten to Steve, who was more directly in the camera's visual range. Steve held the protesting cat up so Tony could get a good look at her.
Tony studied her critically. "She's too small. I might step on her. She's a wiggler. But at least she looks like she took after Pepper. Not a better woman to take after. All right, I suppose she'll do. You couldn't find a male cat? If I have to have any kind of progeny running around, I want to at least be able to pass my name to it."
"I'm sure you'll think of something, Tony," Steve said, setting the kitten down on the floor. She ran off at a dead sprint, fluffed up twice her size. Bucky watched her go until she disappeared down the hall, then turned his attention back to the screen. "What time tomorrow should we expect you?" Steve asked.
Tony glanced down, presumably at his display's clock. He looked like he was reluctantly agreeing to the commitment of setting a time. "Around noon, I guess. You're treating me to Mama's for this."
"We're treating you?" Bucky said, eyebrows raised. "You have enough money to buy God, why are we paying?"
"Because I'm doing you a favor," Tony said. "And also, you owe me for the scare Pepper gave me to talk me into this."
"Are you ever going to forgive us for that?" Bucky demanded.
"I will never forgive you for anything, Mister Stabs Innocent Cheeseburgers."
"What about me?" Steve said. "I didn't stab your food."
Tony frowned, deliberating. "Okay, I guess I can forgive you. Eventually. Maybe. We'll see. Anyway, I am going to go read up on this FIV thing so I know how much Pepper's going to cry over Grand Dame Meowerson. Which is not her name. Unless Pepper actually lets me get away with that."
Bucky exchanged a look with Steve before looking at Tony, trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with him. "Tony, if you try to name her that, I'm having you arrested for animal abuse."
"Will you take her back when you do?" Tony asked hopefully.
"No. You know Pepper wouldn't let you get away with that."
Tony looked crestfallen, then sighed. "You're right. She'll be attached to the fuzzball. Fine, fine, I'm officially a cat owner. I'm a grown man, I can deal with that. I'll see you two jerks at noon. I mean it, you're treating me to Mama's. I deserve one of her magnificent cheeseburgers for this."
"Just don't start asking for a parade," Steve said.
"I can have one of those whenever I want," Tony said. "Tomorrow. Noon. Don't sleep in." Tony lifted his hand in what was probably supposed to be a wave, then disconnected the call.
Steve minimized the program, revealing that he'd been hip deep in Wikipedia again before Tony's call, from the looks of his browser window, then turned to Bucky. Bucky had no idea what Steve was about to say, because no sooner had Steve opened his mouth, than a loud crash, accompanied by the kitten sounding like she'd just gotten hurt or attacked by a bigger cat, came from the bedroom.
Both Steve and Bucky upended their chairs for how fast they were up and sprinting down the hallway. Bucky had to grab the door frame to the bedroom with his left hand to keep from shooting past the door, and pulled himself in.
It wasn't hard to see what had happened. The wooden dowel in the closet that held up the clothes had fallen down, taking all their clothes with it. The kitten climbing clothing was probably the culprit. And said kitten was lost somewhere under that mess of fabric, and Bucky had no idea if she'd gotten hurt in the crash.
Steve grabbed the dowel and lifted it up, taking most of the clothes with it since most of the hangers had remained loosely looped over it. Bucky began looking under the remaining clothing for signs of the kitten. He finally found her trapped under a dress shirt that Bucky wasn't sure if it was his or Steve's. She stayed hunched down as he pulled the shirt off of her, eyes wide and holding still like whatever had hit her might not see if her she just didn't move.
Bucky sighed and picked her up, which prompted her to curl up in his arms and start purring as if nothing had happened. "You dumb animal," he scolded without much heat to it. "You're going to get yourself hurt."
"Is she okay?" Steve asked, setting the dowel back into the grooves on the wall that held it up. They'd have to bitch at management about that; if a four pound cat climbing clothing hung up on that thing was enough to pull it down, it wasn't stable enough to stay up with just the weight of the clothing in the first place.
"I think so," Bucky said. He gingerly pulled her away from his chest just enough to inspect her for signs of bleeding. She protested, paws flailed in his general direction. "Stop that," he said. "I don't see any obvious injuries." Deciding that she was fine, and acting entirely too normal for a tiny creature that just had a ton of clothing and a wooden dowel dropped on her head, he let her settle on his flesh forearm.
"I'll take care of the clothes," Steve told him. "Go sing to her or something, calm her down."
Bucky gave Steve a very weary look. "Don't be a jackass. You know I can't sing. You want her to be sung to, you do it, choir boy."
Steve chuckled, crouching down to put clothing back on hangers. "Get out of here. Go work your magic in dealing with small and injured creatures."
"She's not injured," Bucky protested, but he did leave, mostly before Steve could say anything else smart-mouthed. Just to prove his point, the kitten crawled up off his arm, climbing his shoulder and perched there, tiny claws dug into his shirt- and his shoulder -to not fall almost six feet to the ground. He side-eyed her, stopping just in the living room area. "You must be kidding me."
She wobbled a moment, claws sticking his skin like little needles, then turned and started trying to chew on his hair.
"Okay," he said, reaching up and plucking the kitten off his shoulder. "You are completely fine, you go on the floor now. Go chew on something other than my hair." He set her down, and she ran full-tilt into the dining room and right into the table leg. He stared. "I found the most brain-damaged cat in the world," he decided. "Steve!" he called back down the hallway. "I think we may owe Pepper an apology. We're giving her a special needs cat."
Bucky heard some soft clicks that he assumed was the hangers hitting the closet dowel, then Steve's voice. "What'd she do?"
"She just ran into a table leg."
This time, Bucky heard a thump and a muffled laugh. "How do you manage to find animals like this?" Steve asked, then his voice got closer up behind Bucky. "At least she's not getting herself stuck up in trees on a regular basis."
"Okay, Tom was a pretty stupid cat," Bucky admitted.
The cat managed to stay mostly out of trouble the rest of the day, although she harassed their toes enough that Steve was forced to get a piece of aluminum foil and ball it up for her to play with. That kept her occupied until she finally passed out in a corner by the window leading to the fire escape.
Apparently, she was happily conforming to the kitten creed of 'play hard, sleep harder'.
At lunch time, she bugged them into sharing some of their sandwiches with her, mostly begging in Bucky's direction since Steve had been far firmer in saying no to her than Bucky had. Steve seemed to make a point of laughing at him for being wrapped around the kitten's little paw. Bucky threatened to drop the kitten feet first onto Steve's sandwich. Steve made a disgusted face and took his plate to sit at the couch, away from Bucky's threats that were closer to promises.
Bucky was actually relieved that the kitten was mostly well-behaved. Not just because cleaning up after hell cats was a pain, but because he'd feel really bad to be sending a sick, potentially expensive cat to his friends, only for her to be a terror that'd eat the plants and shred the couch. Tony needed to be given shit sometimes, but that was a bit much.
Dinner proved the only time she actually presented a problem. The kitten was young, and cats were naturally curious and that was all the worse in the younger ones, so when it came time to cook, she seemed to want to know exactly what was going on and insisted on being underfoot. When she almost tripped Steve while he was carrying a pot of boiling water to the sink, Bucky had enough and took her to the spare bedroom where her litter box was and shut the door.
She didn't like that much.
Bucky hunched over his food, poking at it with his fork, trying to ignore her wailing from the bedroom. She was making him feel guilty for locking her in there until after the kitchen was cleaned and not in use and she wasn't likely to trip one of them and send them face first into the counter. Which was a very good, logical argument against that guilt.
"You'd make a terrible father," Steve said suddenly.
Bucky blinked, looking over at Steve and staring. "What the hell brought that up?"
Steve jabbed at him with his fork. "You're listening to her too much. If you were a father, you'd make your poor wife be the bad guy parent because you'd give in to your kid."
Bucky made a face about like he'd just been forced to eat mushy peas. "Yeah, I know." He glanced back towards the hall as the sounds of her pawing at the door joined her cries and sighed deeply. "She doesn't have to act like I just killed her best friend," he grumbled, turning back to his food.
"She's a cat," Steve pointed out. "And a young one, at that. Everything she doesn't like is the worst thing to ever happen. We'll let her out after the kitchen's clean. Unless you want to get dumped into the dishwasher, courtesy of an underfoot five pound bundle of fluff."
Bucky let that one marinate for about point-oh-three seconds and then went back to his food. "She can cry until she passes out."
Steve chuckled. "I thought so."
Fortunately for the kitten- not to mention Bucky's sanity -it didn't take long to clean up, and while Steve dried the one pan that didn't fit in the dishwasher, Bucky went down the hall to let the kitten out. "All right, you obnoxious miscreant, get out here."
She poked her head around the door, looking like she might not come out just to spite Bucky, then stepped out, rubbed against his legs, then took off in pursuit of some vague cat thing that probably hadn't been a consideration a second before she left the room. He hoped that she wouldn't run into the table leg again, because he'd really have to worry about brain damage, but she found her aluminum ball instead, and happily started playing.
Good.
Evenings in their apartment were usually pretty quiet. Mostly, they read, which Bucky was fine with. Steve had a few paperbacks haunting the place, and he was constantly returning and checking out new books at the library, but Bucky preferred using the ebooks on his tablet. It'd been a bit difficult at first to adjust his eyes to reading off a screen instead of a page, but he went through books as fast as Steve did, and there was a limit on how many books they could check out at a time on one library card. Since Bucky couldn't get one of his own (yet), he was fine with just amassing an alarmingly large digital library.
He was honestly starting to think he'd have to turn in his Cool Kids creds and pick up a membership card to the Nerd Club.
It was nearing ten, the time they normally turned in for the evening, when the kitten finally emerged from wherever she'd buried herself with that aluminum ball. Bucky didn't notice her at first; he was trying to power his way through a book he was really not enjoying when he felt a couple soft taps on his leg, followed by a bit firmer of a tap. He looked down to see the kitten gently patting his leg with one paw, then rubbing her head against it in a kitty kiss.
"Thank you," he said, picking her up and putting her on the table. "I needed an excuse to stop reading this dumb book." She started purring, rubbing against his hand until he obliged her and started petting her, setting his tablet aside so she didn't accidentally step on it.
Steve looked up over his book. "If it's a dumb book, why don't you stop reading it and get a different one?" he asked, as if it should be obvious.
"Because it's a pop culture book that I'd like to understand references to," Bucky said, not looking over at Steve in favor of paying attention to the cat, who had flopped over to invite belly rubs.
"Which book?"
Bucky glanced back at his tablet. "Harry Potter. Why the hell these books ever became popular, I probably won't ever know. It's horribly written. The narration is annoyingly juvenile. I don't give a damn if it was aimed at young teenagers, if this is the best a twelve-year-old kid can read, we need to have a long talk with the government about the education system."
Steve shook his head, an amused half grin on his face. "At least it's not as bad as Twilight or Fifty Shades Of Grey."
It took Bucky a moment to place those names. "Isn't Fifty Shades that new sex movie that's coming out?"
"Sadly," Steve said. "I have no idea how they're going to get away with making a smut book into a movie that's not rated NC-17. I don't care to know. And no, I never read the book. I don't want to. If the characters in it are true to the characters they were based on, they're the worst people ever and I'd spend the entire time wanting to set the book on fire and throw it through the author's bedroom window."
Bucky snorted, trying to hold back a laugh. "That bad, huh?"
"I've read the books they were based on," Steve said, looking ashamed of himself for that. "Bella is the dumbest girl ever written, and Edward is a creepy and abusive stalker. And for some reason, girls think this is the ideal relationship."
Bucky could only stare at Steve for a moment, actually forgetting the kitten was there until she pushed at his hand again. He glanced at her, resuming his attentions, before looking back up at Steve. "Can I give up on modern society?"
"I did that as soon as I heard about the Kardashians," Steve said, going back to his book.
Bucky couldn't argue that.
Neither he nor Steve noticed when the time passed ten; Steve seemed engrossed in his book, and the kitten had Bucky's full attention. He'd miss her, and while he knew this was hardly the last time he'd ever see her again- unless Tony decided to hate him for it enough that he refused to let Steve and Bucky visit, which wasn't likely -he still wanted to enjoy a chance to have a cat around, something he hadn't since he enlisted in the army and had to give the cat he owned at the time to his sister to take care of while he was gone.
Which turned out to basically be indefinitely.
"Bucky?"
Bucky opened his eyes, wondering when they'd closed. "Hm?"
Steve set aside his book and motioned to the kitten on the table. She was draped across Bucky's wrist. "You put each other to sleep. And it's past ten. If you're going to sleep, you'd probably be more comfortable in a bed."
Bucky grunted, blinking very slowly. "Bed. Right. I have one, don't I?" He carefully extracted his hand from the kitten, who didn't seem to wake up at all, just adjusted her position and went right back to sleep, and stretched and yawned until his eyes watered. "Okay, yeah, bed." He looked at Steve. "You staying up?"
Steve shook his head. "No. I only stayed up because I was in the middle of a long chapter."
"You have this weird compulsion about not being willing to put down a book in the middle of a chapter," Bucky said, standing. He scooped up the kitten and deposited her on the couch so she wouldn't have to chance jumping off the table when she woke up and needed something. She stretched, sat up, scratched her ear, then turned in a couple circles and laid right back down and went to sleep.
Cats.
"You can be just as bad," Steve said. "Instead of making a very bad attempt at picking on me, why don't you go to bed and go to sleep?"
Bucky stepped to the side, motioning for Steve to go ahead of him. "You first, jerkface."
Steve sighed, but walked ahead anyway. "You're a jackass, Bucky."
"I'm the older one," Bucky said, placing his hand on the wall to keep him going forward with his eyes closed. "Which doesn't explain why you're one, too."
"I was the brat, remember?"
Bucky opened his eyes, feeling the jerk on his mechanical arm as his hand moved from solid wall to open doorway and righted himself. "That was Rebecca," he said. "You were the little shithead. I think."
"I thought you just said I was a jackass." Steve looked way too amused for his own good.
Bucky peeled his shirt off, wadded it up and flung it at Steve's face. "Quit trying to screw with the half-asleep guy's head," he grumbled, grabbing his nightshirt off of his bed.
Steve tossed Bucky's shirt into the clothes hamper. "Go to bed, Bucky, you're barely making sense."
"Meh." Bucky didn't offer any sort of rebuttal beyond that tired sound, finishing changing and slipping into bed. He had no idea if Steve said good night at all, passing out almost as soon as his head hit his pillow.
"Bucky?"
Bucky refused to open his eyes. Hadn't this just happened? Why was Steve waking him up already? He'd barely been asleep fifteen minutes, Steve should be asleep.
"Bucky?"
"Steve, if you don't go back to sleep and leave me alone, I'm smothering you with my pillow," he said, still not opening his eyes.
"It's eight-thirty," Steve said. "You slept in."
Finally, Bucky opened his eyes, blinking against the sleep trying to glue his eyes shut, and looked up at Steve. The room was far too bright for it to still be night. "You serious?"
"No, I'm lying to confuse you," Steve said in completely sincere voice and with a straight face. "And I wouldn't move too fast, if I were you. You'll kick off your bedmate."
It took about fifteen seconds to actually parse that. "Huh?" When Steve motioned towards Bucky's hand, Bucky lifted his head a bit and looked down, blinking in surprise; the kitten was sprawled under his mechanical hand, using it as a blanket. "When the hell did you get there?" His voice didn't wake her at all.
"No idea," Steve said with one of those jackass expressions that meant that Bucky might have to threaten him with bodily harm if he couldn't keep from laughing. "She was there when I woke up an hour ago."
Bucky sighed, head thumping back down on the pillow. "She's going to get separation anxiety," he grumbled.
"One last chance to call Tony," Steve said.
Bucky lifted his hand and rubbed the kitten's head, doing his best to wake her without hurting her. It was sometimes hard to tell how hard he was pressing against something or gripping something with a hand that had no surface sensory feedback. "Wake up," he told her. She didn't move, and if Bucky couldn't hear her breathing, he'd've had a moment of panic.
"She sleeps hard," Steve said. "And you didn't answer my question."
"You didn't ask one," Bucky said, sliding his hand underneath the kitten to lift her up. She whined a moment before getting her feet under her, then dutifully climbed down off the bed. Bucky sat up, no longer worried about knocking her off. "She'll deal. She's young, she'll be fine. If we keep her, she'll just get like that every time we leave for a job." He ran a hand through his hair. "What time was Tony going to be here again?"
"He said around noon," Steve said. "He also said we're taking him to Mama's while he's here."
"Yeah, I remember that." Bucky scowled. "If he upsets her again, I'm lighting his shoes on fire."
Steve sighed, sounding as much exasperated as he was amused. "Just ask her out already, Bucky."
Bucky reluctantly set his feet on the floor. Damn, it was cold, and that was carpet. He was loathe to find out how cold the kitchen floor was. "I will eventually," he said.
"And when is 'eventually'?"
Bucky stood and pushed past him, heading out of the room. "When I have a name."
"And when will that be?" Steve asked, following him.
Bucky stopped in front of the bathroom door and looked at Steve. "I don't bug you about your love life, don't bug me about mine," he said. "Now go away, I don't need your help here."
Steve snorted, shoving his hand against Bucky's face. "I'll feed the furball," he said, walking off.
Speaking of the furball, Bucky did a quick cat check in the bathroom, not about to share the tiny room with her while he showered. After deciding she wasn't in there, he shut the door.
He emerged about ten minutes later, his bare feet protesting walking around on cold floors after a hot shower, but he didn't feel like putting on socks and shoes until Tony was there and ready to drag them out to eat. "I hope you've got breakfast on the table, Steve," he said, walking out of the hallway and still combing his damp hair. "Because I'm not walking on that tile floor. The carpet's cold enough."
"Then pull on some socks," Steve said, standing at the stove and cooking what smelled like pancakes. He looked back over his shoulder at Bucky and drew his head back some. "I will never get used to that."
Bucky paused by the table, comb pulled halfway through a section of hair. "What?"
"You with long hair."
For a moment, Bucky could only stare at Steve, then yanked the comb free from a snarl in his hair. "Steve, it's been a year. I took less time than that to get used to you being over six foot with shoulders wider than mine. That's sorta a bigger difference."
Steve shook his head, turning back to the pancakes. "It's just weird, that's all."
Bucky sat down at the table. "It's not that it's weird, it's that it's not Bucky, it's the Winter Soldier," he corrected, trying to sound like he was more focused on working that goddamn knot out of his hair without yanking a handful out than on what he was actually saying.
The only sound in response was the sound of Steve flipping a pancake, and a tiny meow near Bucky's feet. He hadn't really expected Steve to answer, Steve never liked being called out on that, so he set the subject aside and glanced down to see the kitten at his feet, watching him expectantly. He finished working loose that particular tangle, then scooped up the kitten and set her down on the table in front of him before going back to trying to fix the mess of his hair that toweling it off inevitably made.
He was forced to stop when the kitten hooked her claws into his shirt sleeve and started tugging at his arm. He put his comb down and got down in her face with a stern look. "I'm trying to do something here," he said. Instead of backing away, or even having the courtesy of looking contrite, she responded by butting her head against his and bapping his nose. He laughed, sitting back and obliging her with the scritchings she wanted. "If you can't win Tony's black heart, nothing can."
"Tony's heart isn't as black as he likes to pretend," Steve said. "Kinda like you."
Bucky looked up at him, wondering when Steve had walked over, plates in hand. He frowned, grabbing the kitten and setting her on the floor to make room for the plates. "Compare me to him again and I'm letting her walk on your pancakes," he said.
Steve set the plates down and handed Bucky a fork. "I make you breakfast, and you threaten me. Not only would you make a bad father, you'd make a terrible husband, too."
"Don't worry, Steve," Bucky said, cutting a piece of pancake and stabbing it with his fork, "you're the only one I have room in my life for." He flashed Steve a bratty grin as Steve sat down, giving Bucky one of those 'you make me tired all over' looks that Bucky lived for. "Besides," he said around a mouthful of food. "You fired the first shot. I just retaliated."
"Chew first, then talk," Steve said, ignoring Bucky's perfectly valid point.
"Yes, Mother," Bucky said.
After finishing breakfast and taking care of the kitchen- Bucky told Steve to go entertain himself while Bucky did the dishes, Steve had cooked, after all -Bucky felt a bit restless. He was normally used to that; when they were between jobs, there wasn't much to do for them. One could only spend so much time out running or at the gym before it got boring and completely pointless, and the same applied to reading all day. Steve changed things up sometimes with drawing, or visiting Sam, but Bucky still wasn't fully comfortable with the idea of meeting up with Sam, and he didn't exactly have Steve's artistic talent.
It felt worse that morning, though. There was something happening at a certain time that day, and in the meantime was that horrible 'hurry up and wait' thing that Bucky had learned to put up with in the army. And Bucky wasn't sure if he wanted that wait to be longer or shorter. On one hand, the sooner Tony got there and took off with the kitten, the sooner Bucky could go back to normal life rather than stressing about the well-being of a small and helpless creature.
Steve was right, he'd make a terrible father.
But on the other hand, he'd gotten attached to the little fuzzball, and he'd be sad to see her go. Having been a child once himself, he didn't buy that 'unconditional love' from a human child nonsense, but he could buy it with animals. His cousin's dog had died from what the family had called heartbreak after his cousin had died of polio. Bucky wasn't sure how scientifically sound that was, but he'd been young enough at the time that the idea had stuck with him.
And considering that the kitten followed him around every time he got up, he was really starting to worry that she was already too attached to make it with Tony and Pepper. He had to remind himself more than once that she was probably just starved for affection and would be fine once Pepper got her hands on her.
He was lounged on the couch, feet propped up on one arm, head leaning against the other, reading several Wikipedia articles about the Vietnam War, when the buzzer rang. Bucky tilted his head back to look at the intercom panel. "Betcha that's Tony," he said after glancing at the clock.
Steve set aside his sketch book and pencil and got up. "I'll get it."
While Steve answered the buzzer- it was Tony -and unlocked the secured door for Tony to come in, Bucky lowered his tablet, looking at the kitten, who was sleeping in a ball on his chest. She didn't look like she'd even opened her eyes for the buzzer. "Wake up," he said quietly, reaching over and nudging her cheek with his finger. "Your owner is here."
Since she was clearly ignoring his attempts at waking her up, he turned off his tablet, then moved, grabbing her carefully with his flesh hand as he got up. That woke her up, and put her in a grouchy mood, if the noises she was making were any indication.
Bucky set his tablet on the table next to Steve's sketch book, still holding the kitten. He glanced at what Steve was drawing while Steve was answering the door. The drawing was half-finished, but even without the fine details, it was easy to see that it was a 'photograph' of the kitten sleeping under Bucky's hand that morning. Steve never had a camera growing up, so he'd always just drawn things he wanted to remember instead. The old folding cameras were out of his price range, and he never got into the habit of taking actual photographs after waking up to the twenty-first century.
Bucky shook his head with a lopsided smile. Steve was a nut, no other word for it.
"Okay, where is my new adopted progeny?" Tony asked.
Bucky glanced up to see Tony stepping into the dining area, a small, soft carrier strapped across his shoulder. Bucky held up the squirming kitten a bit. "Right here," he said.
Tony walked over to the table while Steve closed his sketch book and put it and his pencils out of the way. Tony set the carrier down on the now-clear table and held his hands out for the kitten. Bucky handed her over, watching as Tony held her up for inspection. The kitten reached out and pressed a paw to Tony's forehead. Tony leaned his head back. "Let's get one thing straight, Tony Junior," Tony said. "I am the one in charge."
"Tony Junior?" Bucky asked, incredulous. "Tony, that's a female cat."
Tony glanced around the kitten to look at Bucky. "Antoinette Stark Junior. Tony Stark Junior. It works. She's carrying on the family name."
Steve laughed. "Does Pepper know you're naming her cat that?"
"Our cat," Tony corrected, tucking the kitten under one arm. "I called naming rights. She vetoed a lot of them." He looked put out by that. Tony Junior wiggled under Tony's grip, claws flailing. "Ow!" Tony put the cat on the table. "Claws."
"She has those," Steve said.
"She bites, too," Bucky added helpfully.
Tony studied Tony Junior- what a dumb name -as she inspected the pet carrier. "I'm training you to be a guard cat," he said. "If you're going to use those claws and teeth, you'll be useful about it." He unzipped the mesh opening. "In there, you," he said.
Bucky glanced at Steve before looking back at Tony, confused. "You're not planning on taking her to Mama's with us, are you? You know that's illegal, right?"
Tony made an unhappy face. "It was suggested to me that we shouldn't leave Tony Junior alone any place until she's used to her permanent home. Which means I have to take a rain check on that lunch."
"You act like we offered it," Steve said.
"You did," Tony said, nudging the kitten into the carrier. "You owe me for this, remember?" Once Tony Junior was in the carrier, Tony zipped it shut and shouldered it. "I'd stay, but Pepper already scheduled a vet appointment for Junior here and I've got a cab waiting."
Bucky let Steve walk Tony to the door and lock up after him, sitting down and grabbing Steve's sketch book. "You've gotten better," he said once he heard the door lock.
Steve made an aggravated sound. "You know I don't like people looking at my unfinished stuff," he said. He took his seat and held out his hand for his book.
"Still don't like cameras?" Bucky asked, handing the book back over.
Steve took the book and set it down in front of him, studying the drawing for a moment. "Not really," he said. "Besides, what would I do with my time if I just took photos instead of drawing what I want to remember? And I'd fall out of practice."
Bucky tilted his head, studying the open book. It looked like the previous ten, maybe fifteen pages were already used. "What else you got in there?"
"Mostly just stuff from the last year," Steve said. "Like the look on Tony's face when you stabbed his food." He smiled in amusement, glancing over at Bucky. "Which was hilarious, but don't ever do it again."
"Eh, I was in a bad mood that day," Bucky said with a weak shrug.
"I know," Steve said, flipping back through a few pages in a way that kept Bucky from seeing what was on them. He stopped at a page, opening to it properly and handing it over to Bucky. "That's another reason I prefer drawing. If I had a camera, I'd never be part of the things I want to remember."
Bucky studied the picture Steve had handed to him. It was of them playing putt putt in Ohio the previous year, with Bucky looking annoyed and Steve laughing his dumb butt off in the background. "I see you captured my desire to do horrible things to you," he said. "And you got your jackass smile right." He handed the book back. "What about things before I came home?"
Steve set the sketch book down before motioning to the bookcase. "Got another one up there. About half of it is stuff I remembered from the old days, the other half is the other Avengers and SHIELD agents I worked with." He went quiet a moment, looking up at the shelves. "Wish I could find some of the stuff from before I enlisted. I don't have anything of Mom and I can't remember what she looked like to draw anything new."
As that sank in, Bucky realized he couldn't clearly remember what his parents or siblings looked like, either. He could describe them in general terms, and there were things he remembered clearly, like Rebecca's smile, and the smell of his mother's perfume, but thinking about it, just like Steve, that part of his life was disappearing. He folded his hands on the table, studying them silently.
He looked up when he heard the pages in Steve's book flipping. Steve had opened back up to his in-progress work, and was studying it like it should be finishing itself and he wasn't sure why it wasn't. After the clock had ticked away a handful of seconds, Steve looked over at Bucky. "We're old," he said in a conversational tone that belied just how alone that made them.
Bucky snorted. "And yet, they won't give us the senior citizen's discount at the grocery store."
"At least we get the vet's discount," Steve said with a half-hearted smile. "You miss her already."
"Wha- oh. Christ, Steve, you're the one that brought down the mood by talking about your mom. She's just a cat."
"That doesn't change that I'm right," Steve said. "And you acted younger yesterday with her. It was a little like when you had your first apartment. You had that cat, and he followed you everywhere."
Bucky laughed. "I made the mistake of letting my niece name him. Kitty was the most boring cat name ever."
"It's not like they answer to their names anyway," Steve said.
"You'd be surprised," Bucky said. "Although I sincerely hope that 'Tony Junior' never answers to that name ever. What a stupid name."
"It's Tony," Steve said with a dismissive shrug. "But seriously, Bucky, we can get a cat, if you want. One that's not sick so we can afford to leave her with Sam while we're gone."
Bucky shook his head. "Naw. I'd worry too much anyway. Which is one of many reasons I will never have children. I would spend every school day worrying that they'll trip and bust an ankle or something."
Steve rolled his eyes. "You know, thinking back, you're right, I'm going to agree that you'd make a terrible father on that principle alone. You're overbearing."
"I had you and three younger siblings who liked to find trouble. You all tried to turn me gray by the time I hit sixteen."
"Would've made it hard to find a girl," Steve said. "Unless you found someone who liked mature-looking men. Emphasis on 'looking'."
Bucky glared at Steve. "Steve? There is a pencil within my reach and your hand is on the table. Unless you want that hand pinned there like a butterfly, I suggest you reconsider anything else you want to say."
Steve grabbed his pencil and set it on the other side of the table from Bucky, giving Bucky a dirty look. "If you're going to threaten my person, don't involve my drawing pencils."
"Good to see where your priorities lie," Bucky said, grabbing his tablet with one hand and waving Steve off with the other. "Get back to your doodling, I'm going to find something less depressing than the Vietnam War to read about."
"You're not hungry?" Steve asked.
Bucky glanced up at him as his tablet rebooted. "Not really? Not enough to go out to Mama's, if that's what you meant."
Steve tilted his head slightly. "You're usually not one to turn down a chance to get to see her."
Bucky shrugged. "I'm not that hungry. If you want to make something, I won't turn it down, but no, not really wanting to go out." He glared at his tablet as he loaded up the e-reader. "Harry Potter. My nemesis. We meet again." He looked at Steve, who was looking at him as if he'd lost his damn mind. "You know, I'm starting to root for Voldemort."
Steve was very clearly trying not to laugh or even smile in amusement. "If you say so, Bucky."
One came and went, and Steve finally made Bucky help him with lunch; if Bucky were honest, by that point he was ready for food and a break from that stupid Goblet of Fire. After lunch and clean up, more time passed. Steve was a perfectionist with his art, and could spend hours on one piece, cleaning up all the fine details. Bucky would occasionally glance over to watch, and Steve never failed to notice and would stop and stare pointedly at Bucky until Bucky stopped giving him an audience.
At about six, Bucky decided that the Vietnam War would be a more entertaining subject to read about and went back to Wikipedia. Seven hit, and they decided that dinner had been put off long enough. By eight thirty, the kitchen had been restored to its pre-dinner mess state and Bucky reluctantly went back to the Harry Potter book.
To Bucky's relief, Steve's computer pinged after about fifteen minutes of struggling through another chapter of that awful book. Steve looked over, pulling his laptop over to look at the screen. "It's a call from Pepper." He moved his sketch book and pencils out of the way and put his laptop in front of him at a slight angle so Bucky could see the screen before hitting answer. Bucky still had to get out of his chair and hang over Steve's shoulder.
Pepper's face appeared on the screen, and her face was lit up like a million watt bulb, Tony Junior perched carefully on her shoulder. "You guys are the best," Pepper said before either Steve or Bucky could say anything in greeting. "She's adorable, and so friendly." Pepper looked over at the kitten. "You're a darling, aren't you, Junior?"
"That's Tony Stark Junior!" Tony's voice came from the background somewhere.
Pepper shook her head slightly with the look of a woman who was in charge and only humoring the man in the family. Bucky had seen his mother give that look to his father a lot growing up. "But seriously, she's very loving. The vet checked her out as healthy aside from the FIV, and she's officially a registered member of the Stark and Potts household. I just wanted to let you guys know that she got here safely, she's healthy and she's happy."
Bucky smiled, watching Junior trying to lean forward towards the computer without falling off Pepper's shoulder. "She'll walk on your keyboard if you're not careful," he told her.
Pepper reached up and plucked Junior off her shoulder and held the kitten up to the screen. "See, Junior? It's just a picture." Junior pawed at the screen a moment before Pepper pulled her back to cuddle the kitten against her chest. "I know. Tony has already locked down the basement with about five more levels of anti-cat security to protect his electronic babies."
"I'm surprised he hasn't already plotted an Iron Man suit for her," Steve said.
Pepper scoffed. "Maybe when she hits full size and won't grow out of it in a month. He's got to warm up to the idea. And he will. She's charming, and he likes charming. It reminds him of himself. Give her a month, he'll be fussier about her than I am."
"I will not!" Tony's voice came from off-screen again.
"We believe that, too," Steve said.
Pepper shot an affectionately exasperated look somewhere off-camera. "Tony, how can you say that about this precious little thing?"
There was the sound of footsteps, then Tony's face moved in front of Pepper's in the camera view. "I still hate you two," he said, then glanced back and straightened. After a moment, he gave Junior's ears a half-hearted rub before turning to walk away.
"See? He's already giving in," Pepper said.
"I am not," Tony said, disappearing off-screen again.
Pepper covered her mouth with one hand, although it barely hid the smile. She watched in the direction Tony went for a moment, then turned back to the camera. "I mostly wanted to let you know she's safe and sound, and to say thank you. She's adorable, and so loving. I've wanted a pet for awhile, but with everything that's gone on the last few years, it wasn't really feasible. So thank you. I mean that."
Steve inclined his head in Bucky's direction. "Thank him. He was the one that decided we weren't giving her to a shelter."
Pepper looked mock-surprised. "The heartless Winter Soldier, going soft for a kitten? No!"
While Steve started laughing, Bucky heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Okay, Steve, shut up. Yes, I like animals. This should not be cause for shock here."
Steve patted Bucky's shoulder, which he wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't seen Steve's hand out of the corner of his eye. Steve sometimes forgot that Bucky's left shoulder couldn't feel anything anymore. Bucky gave him a dirty look.
Pepper smiled warmly. "Give yourself more credit, Bucky," she said. "But I'll stop putting you on the spot. It's this little missy's dinner time. Again, thank you." She lifted one of Junior's front paws and waved it at the camera. "Say bye-bye, Junior." Junior licked Pepper's hand, but didn't seem to understand that she was supposed to be looking at the camera. Pepper let go of Junior's paw and reached over towards her computer. "Night, guys." Then she hung up.
Bucky sat back down in his chair while Steve moved his laptop to the side again. Bucky stretched, popping his upper back in the process.
"I heard that," Steve said.
"Yeah, you also hear my right shoulder pop a lot, you comment on that, too," Bucky said.
"Only out of jealousy," Steve said, pulling his drawing supplies back to him. He looked over at Bucky. "You look like you feel better."
That came out of left field. Bucky gave Steve a strange look. "What do you mean?"
"You've been tense since Tony left," Steve said. "You're not anymore."
"Oh." Bucky looked down at his tablet. "Yeah, I guess. It's nice to know she's in good hands."
Steve went back to his drawing. "Told you that you were a marshmallow, Bucky."
"Say that again, and I'm going to visit great pain upon your person."
Steve didn't reply beyond a chuckle. Bucky watched him suspiciously for a moment, half-expecting Steve to try to blind side him with something. After deciding Steve was probably going to behave, Bucky glanced over his shoulder at the food and water bowls that were still sitting just inside the kitchen. They'd have to dump out the box and take the bowls and leftover litter to a shelter tomorrow. As far as Bucky was concerned, that was the best twenty bucks they ever spent.
Feeling better than he had that afternoon, Bucky decided to ruin his good mood by going back to Harry Potter.