[Bucky Barnes; R] I'll Be Home For Christmas: Chapter 6 Character/Series: Bucky Barnes, Cast; Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: R Notes: Thank you so much, Tony, for being an asshole and derailing everything. Title: I'll Be Home For Christmas- Chapter 6: Snowstorms Author:yuuo Word Count: 5964 Summary:It was raining.
It was raining.
It was raining, but he couldn't hear it. He saw the guys next to him, ducked down behind the trench, saw some firing back at the Germans. A grenade went off somewhere nearby.
But he couldn't hear any of it.
Something must've gone off close to him, something he didn't see that deafened him and he struggled to not panic. He needed to hear, needed to hear his mates calling out locations, needed to hear the incoming artillery but it was just silent. Dum Dum and Morita were yelling something at him, motioning over the trench, then lifting their weapons and firing. He couldn't hear their guns. Couldn't hear their yelling.
The rain was cold on his face, soaking his uniform, and he could feel the tip tap of it on his helmet, vision somewhat blocked by it streaming off the edge and over his eyes. He shook his head, his hands too occupied holding his weapon to bother lifting one to wipe the water out of his face. His muscles tensed and shook from the cold.
He struggled to get over the edge of the trench, to try to assess the situation himself, but he was mired. The ground was soft from the rain; cold and muddy, cold and wet, wet from the constant rain. Rain he couldn't hear. He threw out his left hand, his right holding tightly to his weapon, trying to grab hold of something solid. The light of an explosion glinted off the metal.
Bucky snapped awake, breathing quickly and heart racing around his chest. The room was dark, bedroom door shut, no windows, and lights off. The silence that had invaded his mind was finally being broken by the sound of the heat turning on. He sighed, closing his eyes again for a moment, then got up from under the blankets and sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing his hands over his face.
"This is fucking ridiculous," he muttered to himself. It wasn't the first nightmare he'd had since moving to the Tower. It was too quiet. He was used to hearing Steve across the room. He wasn't used to not hearing much of anything, actually. When he'd sleep on a mission, someone was always armed and nearby. Before Hydra, there was the field, always surrounded by the other guys, a variety of snores and whistles and heavy breathing filling up the silence.
This whole sleeping alone thing was going to take some getting used to.
Still shaking off post-nightmare jitters and a good helping of paranoia, Bucky got up and quietly opened his door, heading down the hall to Steve's room. Steve slept with his door open, so Bucky was able to poke his head in and confirm for his own peace of mind that Steve was okay and sleeping peacefully, breathing deep and even.
Good.
He went back to his room, pausing at the nightstand, staring at his bed as if he wasn't sure he wanted to actually get back in it and go to sleep.
Deciding that the bed was too soft for sleep that night, he grabbed his top blanket and pillow and dragged them out to the living room, forgetting to shut his bedroom door behind him. He dropped the pillow on one end of the couch with the back to the door. The other one was just catty-corner to the one he'd chosen, leaving the corner he'd put his pillow on less than three feet from the adjacent corner of the other couch. The screen that was still down for viewing and the Christmas tree shielded out some of the light from outside, keeping it from shining right in his eyes. Outside, he could hear the sounds of Manhattan's night life. Not his favorite sound, but at least it wasn't fucking silence.
Just as he'd managed to spread out his blanket and sit down on the couch, not quite ready to lay down, he heard sounds of footsteps in the back hall. He held still, barely breathing, listening, hoping Steve was just going to the bathroom. After a second, he had to resist the urge groan. Steve hadn't stopped at the bathroom, he was heading out to the living room.
"Bucky, what're you doing out here?"
Bucky as glad that his back was to Steve for the moment, as he closed his eyes and started silently swearing in a few different languages. "Just having trouble sleeping, Steve. Thought a change of location would help. Go back to bed."
Steve wasn't inclined to listen, apparently, as Bucky heard his footsteps walk down into the living area. Steve settled himself on the couch next to Bucky. "This is the third time in a week you've come out here," he said. "What's going on?"
Bucky looked at him. "I'm just having trouble sleeping, that's all. It's a new place, it'll take me some time to adjust."
"That's why you keep walking to my bedroom when you have trouble sleeping?" Steve asked, tone gentle and sympathetic.
Damnit. "You are annoying," Bucky said. "I'm just not used to not hearing someone alive nearby when I sleep. I don't think I've slept alone since before I deployed. I'll get used to it." Then he gave Steve an impatient look. "Really, go back to bed." He motioned out the windows. "The city keeps me company, you don't need to."
"I like you better than the city does," Steve said. Bucky had no reply to that, so silence passed for a bit before Steve spoke up again. "We could always move beds again."
Bucky sighed heavily. "Steve, I'm a grown man, I'm going to have to learn to sleep in my own room eventually. I just... I guess I don't adapt as quickly as I did before Hydra. I had specific programming, anything outside the parameters of what I was used to was... well, not anything we wanted to see happen. That doesn't mean I won't get used to it." Then he looked over at Steve. "Besides, eventually you're going to settle down and I'll have to get used to it anyway."
Steve rolled his eyes. "Bucky, me getting married to anyone isn't happening any time soon. Let me enjoy dating before you throw me down the aisle."
Bucky laughed, a quick exhale of air. "I like planning for the future, that's all. Especially the good stuff." He rubbed the knuckles of his mechanical hand. "Better than the bleak stuff, right? I mean, I could brood more, if that'd make you happy."
"If you do, I'm grabbing you in a headlock and not letting go until you cry for mercy," Steve said sternly. Then he smiled. "I'm glad you're thinking of good things. But you're bracing yourself for something that's not happening for awhile. Tell you what." He stood. "I'll sleep out here with you." Bucky opened his mouth to protest and Steve held up a hand. "We won't do it every night. Just the bad nights. You'll adjust and soon we won't need to at all. It's not your fault that you have trouble adapting to new routines. Like you said, that was Hydra. So we'll undo what they did."
Bucky didn't think 'undoing what they did' was as simple as all that, but getting one part of his self-autonomy back would be nice, so baby steps, he supposed. "Fine." He pushed his flesh hand into the couch, noting for for his reference that the couch actually was firmer than his bed. He hadn't paid attention before, was more focused on having sound than on if the couch was soft or not. He looked back up at Steve. "It's not as soft as a bed."
"And you should know as well as anyone that sometimes, that's perfect," Steve said. "Get comfortable, I'll be right back out."
Bucky felt silly, did every time Steve ended up doing something to accommodate one of his neuroses, but at least nobody was making him sit through professional therapy. He'd seen soldiers, good men, ruined after war, and that was just how the human mind worked sometimes. He understood that, but that didn't mean he had to like it.
But he did as he was told, settling down under his blanket. He only had the one blanket, and the windows made it a touch chillier in the living room than it had been in a dark and closed off bedroom. "JARVIS, can you bump the heater a degree?" he said, voice low in the semi-darkened room. "And dim the windows."
"Yes, sir," JARVIS said, quieter than he was during the day. The apartment was in sleep mode, even JARVIS had a library voice.
The furnace had just turned on when Bucky left his room, but it'd stay on a bit longer. The light from outside dimmed as the windows darkened slightly. Steve's footsteps joined the sounds of the vents a few seconds later, and then Steve passed between Bucky and the windows, the corner of his blanket trailing on the ground behind his feet. Bucky twisted his head a bit to watch Steve set up the other couch for himself and settle in, his head at the corner closest to Bucky's.
"Hey," Bucky said quietly, as Steve fussed around on the couch a bit, getting comfortable.
Steve tilted his head back to look at Bucky. "Yeah, Buck?"
"You ever need something like this, you tell me. You're not the only one threatening a headlock around here."
Steve chuckled. "Don't worry. I was actually starting to get tempted to come out here myself," he said. "It's been awhile since I slept alone, too. Keep waking up and wondering where you are. Then I notice how the room looks different, and I remember."
Bucky made a quiet noise, then frowned. "How come you haven't woken me for any of this?"
Steve shrugged. "I'm usually tired enough that after I remember, I fall back asleep. Besides, if I went to check on you, I'd have to open your door and it'd wake you."
"Headlock, Steve."
"You win. Next time. I promise."
Satisfied that Steve would do what he was told now that he'd used the words 'I promise,' Bucky turned his head back to a more natural angle and laid it on his pillow. The sounds of traffic outside were faint compared to the rumble of the heat, and Steve's breath evening into sleep, and it didn't take long before Bucky nodded back off.
Even though the windows were dimmed, it was still brighter in there when Bucky woke up than when he'd gone to sleep. He cracked an eye open, looking out the windows just past the screen and tree. The sky was a pale grey, and it was snowing. He craned his neck to see if Steve was awake. It didn't look like it, Steve not moving except the rise and fall of his chest, so Bucky sat up, glancing between Steve and the hallway where the bathroom was.
Figuring that he could just argue with Steve over the bathroom, he decided to wake Steve up first. "Hey, Steve," he said, not loudly enough to startle Steve out of sleep, but loud enough to wake him.
"Hm?"
"It's snowing."
Steve lifted his head, staring blankly out the windows, before a grin threatened to crack his face. "We'll be sick of that by the time February rolls around, you know that, right?"
"Just like every year," Bucky said, then stood. "Go make your tea," he said. Steve had switched to some fruity brew that Sharon had introduced him to after he gave up on coffee. Bucky thought that tea couldn't measure up to hot cocoa, but if Steve wanted to waste kettle water on fruit leaves, that was up to him.
Bucky rejoined Steve in the living space fairly quickly, his mouth tasting of mint from the toothpaste. He made a vague noise in greeting to Steve as he passed the dining room table to make a mug of cocoa.
Steve was watching out the window when Bucky joined him, stirring his cocoa. Bucky stayed quiet, letting Steve's brain do whatever it was doing, whether he was thinking of something, or just woolgathering. Bucky's mind was, for once, calm, the snow outside feeling like a blanket that quieted thoughts. The only sounds were the noises of life outside, and the clinking of Bucky's spoon on the inside of his mug.
For the moment, it was peaceful, and Bucky liked that. Up until he and Steve had been released from Fort Meade, peace wasn't always easy to come by. Not this kind, not where things felt more than okay. Hydra was still out there, but that could wait for later. His brain still had some misfiring neurons, but that was something that wasn't important right then. What was important was the fact that for a moment, everything seemed right.
The sound of Steve sipping his tea drew Bucky's attention away from watching the snow fall outside. He looked at Steve out of the corner of his eye, one eyebrow raised. "You're not supposed to slurp it, Steve."
Steve grimaced, setting down his cup. "It's still too hot."
"That never stopped you with coffee," Bucky pointed out, giving his cocoa another stir.
"And I told you the reason for that," Steve said. "I actually like this tea, I'd like to be able to taste it."
Bucky leaned forward slightly, trying to get a whiff of the tea past his cocoa. "What kind of tea is that?"
Steve grabbed the end of the string on the tea bag, reading the paper tab attached to it. "Bavarian wild berry. Sharon gave it to me to try."
Bucky took a tentative sip of his cocoa, not making a horrible slurping sound in the process, testing the heat. It was about acceptable, the milk he'd added cooling it down faster than Steve's tea was. "You're drinking fruit tea because your girlfriend asked you to."
Steve gave him a dirty look. "I don't know where you're going with this, but don't," he warned. "It has more flavor than plain tea."
Bucky decided to not tease Steve on the subject further. "How is it?"
Steve studied the tea a moment. "Not bad. Better than the mint stuff she recommended last time. That just made me think I was drinking toothpaste."
"That's a disgusting thought," Bucky said, nose wrinkling.
They fell into another comfortable silence for awhile, Steve finishing off his tea and going for another cup. Bucky was slower to finish his cocoa, spending more time watching out the window. He could've easily spent the morning just watching it and enjoying the peaceful feeling it invoked.
Steve sat back down across from him with his second cup, playing with the tea bag, steeping the tea. "So what are you planning on doing to give Sharon a heart attack today?" he asked.
Bucky turned his head from the window to stare at Steve blankly a moment. "I don't know," he said. "And we both gave her that heart attack yesterday. So don't pin that on me."
"So another quiet day?"
Bucky frowned. "I should probably go apply at that shelter, actually." He glanced back out the window briefly. "But the weather is making me want to stay here."
"So go tomorrow," Steve said.
"It's tempting," Bucky admitted. "But the faster I get applied and approved, the faster I can start helping those guys."
"Excuse me, sirs," JARVIS said. "I do hate to interrupt, but Mister Stark is at the door. Shall I let him in?"
Steve and Bucky exchanged a look. Steve glanced back towards the door. "It's too early for him," he said. "But yeah, sure, let him in."
Before Tony was even in view, his voice could be heard saying "good morning, old guys!" He sounded way too damn chipper. Bucky decided to go put his mug in the dishwasher and start breakfast and leave Tony for Steve to deal with.
Steve half-turned in his seat, looking over his shoulder at Tony. "It's not even breakfast, what are you doing up and around?"
Tony lifted a small paper bag. "Delivering a present. JARVIS said you needed one of these." He held it out. "It's for the resident cook."
Bucky stopped, a skillet hovering inches above the stove, and frowned. "Me?" He set the skillet down and walked around the kitchen island to meet Tony next to the table. "What is it?"
Tony all but shoved the bag into his hands. "Look and find out."
Reluctantly, wondering what the hell Tony could get him that he'd need in the kitchen, Bucky took the bag and looked in. "What the- Tony." He pulled out a granite mortar, the pestle still in the bag. "So I needed it once so far, and you already knew about it and got me one?" He glanced up. "JARVIS."
Tony answered for the AI. "I asked him if you were having any problems with the apartment that you weren't telling me about. I know you two were raised in different types of households than I was. You don't always ask when you want something. He mentioned that your kitchen was fully stocked, but you needed one of those. I figured, why not? It's your only complaint so far, that means I did good with this place."
"I don't know whether to thank you, or be uncomfortable that you're able to spy on us through your computer that we can't avoid," Bucky said.
"Say thank you," Tony said. "It goes over better. And relax, I'm not going to disrespect your privacy. I just asked about holes in my designs for your place." He held up his hands. "Promise. That's it."
Bucky and Steve exchanged another look, something they ended up doing often around Tony, then Bucky looked back at Tony. "You know, you could've just asked us."
"I know," Tony said. "But would you have said you needed that?"
"That's not the point," Bucky said. "This isn't anything we couldn't get ourselves."
Tony made a noise of frustration. "Let me spoil you."
"Christmas is coming up," Steve said. "Spoil us for Christmas, not for everything else. We have money, Tony. We're not exactly living hand to mouth here."
"I know," Tony said. "But it hasn't been that long since his past association with Hydra went public." He motioned to Bucky. "It might be hard to land a job just yet. Save what you have for food, let me take care of the rest." At Steve and Bucky's shared reluctant expressions, Tony sighed theatrically. "I'm being logical! I have the money! My company has the money!"
"I thought you retired as CEO," Steve interrupted.
Tony gave him a dirty look. "You're derailing the subject, but yes, Pepper's CEO now. I still own the most shares in the company, though, so I can still hold it hostage. But that's not the point, the point is, money is not scarce for me, it is not an imposition for me to help out until things settle down." He looked reluctant to continue speaking. "Especially since I put out that information without permission. I didn't trust the government to do what they should've."
Any opposition- logical or prideful or otherwise -that Bucky had to Tony's generosity that was almost as big as his ego disappeared. "Tony, you saved my ass. Don't feel like you have to make up for that." Bucky had a feeling that Tony's reluctance had less to do with feeling guilty and just not wanting to bring the subject up. He lifted the mortar pointedly. "But if it makes you feel warm and squishy inside, thank you. I wasn't sure where I was going to get a real one."
Tony held out his hand, motioning to Bucky as if to say 'see? I'm right.' "You're welcome. Now." He looked back at the tree that the screen was currently in front of. "JARVIS, raise the screen, let's show off that tree."
Steve had a long-suffering look on his face as the screen raised back up into the ceiling, revealing the tree in all its Old Glory. "Tony, you didn't have to. Really."
"I wanted to," Tony said with a shit-eating grin. He walked over to the couches, looking ready to flop on one and admire his handiwork, then paused, staring at the bedding. "What, we had a slumber party?"
There was another one of those exchanges of looks, then Bucky set the mortar and the bag with the pestle down on the table and followed Tony to the couches. "The beds were too soft last night," he said, grabbing his pillow and blanket.
"Too soft? I can have new ones brought in. I didn't realize super soldiers got back problems."
Bucky looked up at Tony, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Steve had abandoned his tea to gather up his own bedding. "It's not that," Bucky said. "It's something guys who have been in the field understand. Soft beds aren't something you get out there."
Tony didn't look like he needed further clarification. "Ah. Well, if you change your mind, let me know, I'll have something brought in." Once the bedding was cleared, Tony took a seat on the couch facing away from the door, and admired the tree. "Gotta say, I outdid myself with that tree."
Steve rolled his eyes. "I won't disagree with that," he said, following Bucky back down the hall. Bucky stopped in his own room, dropping his blanket and pillow onto his bed, then waited out in the hallway for Steve to join him.
Bucky passed Tony and the table, where Steve paused to get his cup of tea before joining Tony, and went into the kitchen. "Since you're here, do you want breakfast?" he asked Tony. "We haven't eaten yet."
"I ate," Tony said. "But I wouldn't mind a sample." He lifted his head slightly, as if trying to see over the kitchen island from where he sat. "What's for breakfast?"
Bucky looked in the fridge. "Something with cheese," he said. "We have a lot of cheese." He looked back over his shoulder at Steve. "Do we have potatoes? Or did I manage to talk you out of them?"
"Funny," Steve said. "We should have some in the vegetable bin."
Bucky went to investigate the bin, lifting out the half-gone bag. "We have potatoes, eggs and a lot of cheese. So we're having hash browns and cheese omelets."
"And toast?" Tony asked, tone hopeful.
Bucky looked at him. "I thought you only wanted a sample."
Tony held out his hands innocently. "You can't have eggs without toast, that's all. I didn't make that rule."
"You mean you're actually following a rule?"
"I follow all sorts of rules," Tony said, a bit defensively. "Just selectively."
Steve made a rude noise, before taking a sip of his tea. Bucky smothered a smirk at the sound. It may have been a rude noise, but it was a thousand times nicer than what had just gone through his mind, and Bucky knew it.
Tony didn't look terribly impressed. "Some rules don't need to be followed."
Bucky didn't look over as he set up a large bowl and his grater. "All right, Tony, we'll have toast. Does that make you happy?"
"Immensely," Tony said, watching him. "Are you grating the potatoes?"
Bucky grabbed a potato and looked over at Tony. "Unless you want a whole fried potato, I'm not sure how else I'm supposed to make you hash browns."
Tony was silent a moment. "By the time you get through that whole pound, I'll probably be hungry enough for a full meal. Just so you know."
Bucky sighed and went to work. "Tony, you get what I give you."
"You sound like a mother," Tony complained.
"That's because I take after my mother," Bucky said. "So I'll take that as a compliment."
"Fair enough."
Thankfully, Tony turned his attention on Steve, and Steve obliged Bucky by keeping him distracted so Bucky could cook without having to frequently turn to fling something at Tony's head.
When the food was ready, Bucky decided to be nice and serve their portions for them, making sure he and Steve had a proper portion for themselves, and giving the rest to Tony. "Come eat," he said, setting Steve and Tony's plates on the table before returning to the kitchen to fetch his own.
Tony and Steve eagerly converged on the table, Tony deferring to Steve and Bucky for their usual seats before taking a spare one. Tony studied the food, sniffing it. "Well, it smells and looks good," he said.
Bucky gave him a warning look, grabbing his fork and pointing it at Tony's food. "How about you try it before you even imply that my cooking is not up to par."
Tony held up his hands. "Easy with the eating utensils, you savage," Tony said. "I still haven't forgiven you for my cheeseburger." He grabbed his fork. "I wasn't implying anything, I was merely complimenting what I had sensory input for."
Bucky rolled his eyes. "Just shut up and eat, Tony."
For once, Tony did what he was instructed to do, starting with the hash browns, then the omelet, that he took with a big bite of toast. Bucky tried to pretend he wasn't watching nervously. Tony probably regularly indulged in gourmet food, even if his idea of a cheeseburger was Burger King. He had a higher standard to compare Bucky's cooking to.
Once he'd sampled a bit of everything, Tony stared at Bucky. "Why did you go into weapons design when you could've become a world class chef?" he demanded. "This is fantastic. Do you cater?" He looked back at his food. "What the hell did you put in these hash browns?"
"Just some spices," Bucky said, shrugging and taking a bite. "If I told you, you wouldn't come back for more."
"Good business tactic," Tony said. "So how often am I invited to dinner? I'll even dress up if you ask nice."
Steve looked at Bucky, though Bucky wasn't sure what for, before he looked at Tony. "We mentioned maybe having a party on Christmas or Christmas Eve with the Avengers, since we'll all be around. Bucky talked about wanting to cook for more people."
"Perfect," Tony said as if he'd thought of it. "You'll have to be warned that Thor has a bigger appetite than we mere mortal men, so you'll want to cook more." He looked at Bucky. "Did you want your brother to be introduced to that messy group? Or I can have him brought up earlier in the week, then he can spend Christmas with the rest of your family that you should consider meeting."
"Oh god no," Bucky said. "There's about thirty generations of a million people each, they can be satisfied knowing they're related to someone famous and not actually meeting said famous person. I'll talk to Peter, see what he wants to do. The family probably does have a yearly tradition, and I'm not sure he'll feel terribly comfortable around a bunch of superheroes. He's old, he's retired, a bunch of grand nieces and nephews are probably more his speed."
"Call him today," Tony said. "Lemme know what he says. I'll make arrangements." His sentences were punctuated by more bites, like he couldn't quite make himself finish a thought without interrupting it with food. "So, any other plans today that I can come along with and pester you?"
Bucky bit back a sigh. "I was going to go down to Cohen Mercy Mission, it's down in the lower east side, fill out an application for volunteer work."
Tony looked like he was trying to place the name, lips moving as he mumbled the name a couple times, almost completely inaudible. "Never heard of it. What is it?"
"An emergency shelter for homeless vets," Bucky said. "It's not the high profile charity work you said I should do, but it's something."
Tony shook his head and shrugged at the same time, chewing more food. He actually had the decency to swallow before speaking, though. "I'm not going to disapprove of a good cause like that. Tell me how bad things are when you get there, I will make sure attention gets dragged to it so things improve."
Bucky couldn't help a bit of a smile. "You can't save the world, Tony," he said. "I don't know if even you and Pepper together can fix the problem entirely."
"I don't know about that," Tony said. "Give me some numbers. How many are out there?"
"On any given night? Over three hundred thousand," Bucky said. "And over a million in danger of it. They're not given proper vocational training once they get home, most are not given medical or psychiatric treatment, the divorce rates are up forty percent in the last few years, their wives leave them and take the kids and they have nothing left but the streets. It's more than just something you can give some press and a few million dollars to and expect it to be fixed."
"I wasn't expecting it to be fixed," Tony said. "And I can too save the world. Ask Cap."
Steve looked at him. "Tony. He wasn't talking about evil aliens and insane Norse gods."
"Allow a man his accomplishments," Tony said. Then he frowned, turning his attention back to Bucky. "The problem is, the system's broken. You're right, I could throw all sorts of money and press at it, but it'd still be there. But I can throw some press, a token donation, and make sure you're visible in the press. Maybe having a fellow vet standing up for these guys will get more of the guys that made it all right involved. What's the Va's budget?"
"Not much," Bucky said. "I don't know exact numbers. I just know that most of that overinflated defense budget does not put enough into this."
Tony looked pained. "Most of that's R&D. I'm sorry to say that my company helped contribute to that. Weapons manufacturers put a big price tag on this stuff, the military pays it, money gets spent on stuff they don't need and not on the guys they need to use it." He sighed, then dug into his omelet. "So don't feel I'm doing this as a favor to you anymore. This is something I should've already been involved in."
Bucky didn't want to turn down the help; he knew Tony was right in that attention needed to be brought to the issue for anything to get done, attention that Bucky couldn't pull off by himself, but he had a feeling that he'd just been set up at a token spokesman and he wasn't sure that'd actually help his reputation. "Honestly, I'd rather do this separately from you," he said. "Not that I don't appreciate the help, but-"
"I know," Tony cut him off. "I know what you're thinking, and you're right, we shouldn't do this together. Or at least not make it look like we're doing it together. I can have someone put in a call to one of New York's thousands of local papers, have a single reporter or so go down to the shelter, no idea that Stark Industries is behind it, get the issue noticed, get you seen involved, you get the rep boost you need, and something gets printed about it. Wait a little, then I'll jump on it, saying I saw the article, saw that you were involved, got some information, decided I wanted in on it. It looks entirely like your idea and not like a cheap attempt on my part to help you get better ratings."
Bucky propped his chin on his fist, studying Tony. "I'm not sure if you're giving too much, or not enough credit to the public on this issue."
"Relax," Tony said. "I know what I'm doing. I'll even get our PR team to hammer out details for me. I'd say maybe get Pepper in on it, she's better at not being suspected of underhanded tactics by the public. But..." He trailed off. "She's not really up for that right now."
"Is something wrong?" Bucky asked.
Tony didn't answer right away, studying him. "She's just not in a good mood right now."
Something about that seemed ominous, and Bucky started to get a gut feeling it had to do with a certain duo who did a certain crime against their friendship with Pepper and Tony. Bucky knew it was coming, that didn't mean he had to like it.
Steve seemed to pick up on that, too, but he set it aside, getting up with his empty plate. "Anyone done? I'll take the plates out."
Bucky started to say no, that he wasn't done, then looked at his plate and realized he actually was. Well, distracting conversation. He handed over his plate. "Thanks."
Tony handed over his mostly empty plate. "It was great, couldn't finish. Still ate earlier." He looked at Bucky. "So, Christmas, or Christmas Eve for that dinner? I'll even help you come up with a menu that should make everyone happy." His eyes rolled towards the ceiling, silently counting. "We'll have seven, I think?" He looked towards the kitchen where Steve was loading the dishwasher. "Hey, Cap, think your girlfriend will want to join that shindig?"
"I don't know," Steve said. "She'd probably like an invitation, though. She might have family she'll spend time with, since Bucky and I will be around you guys for the day. She won't have to down a bunch of antacids from worry about how safe we are."
"Then she doesn't know the Avengers," Tony said. "But okay, seven, six if Sharon decides she'll pass." He made a frustrated noise, his brow furrowing. "If I can find them before then, we'll have Natasha and Barton."
Bucky stared at the table. He wasn't going to give voice to it, but he was worried about them, mostly about Natasha. He didn't know Barton except by reputation, but he was an Avenger, and a friend of his friends, which meant Bucky wanted to see him home and safe as much as he wanted Natasha the same. He still didn't know how fond of Natasha personally he was, but she'd saved his ass, he didn't like not being able to return the favor.
"They'll come out of hiding," he said, looking up at Tony. "You said it yourself, they'll probably fly in on Santa's sleigh. I'll cook to accommodate them, and if they aren't here, I'm sure Thor and Steve and I will be able to minimize leftovers, if Thor eats as much as you say."
"Oh, he can," Tony assured him. "You haven't met Thor yet, have you?"
Bucky shook his head. "I haven't met Bruce except over the phone yet, either."
Tony looked at him in disbelief. "You haven't? Okay, we're changing that. JARVIS, is Bruce in the medical center, or can we pester him at his apartment?"
"He's in the medical center, sir," JARVIS replied.
"Good." Tony motioned at them. "Both of you, go get dressed. We're going to go meet people."
Bucky gave Tony a grumpy look, but got up dutifully. "Steve, look at what you brought into my life."
Behind him, Steve set the dishwasher to run, the appliance coming to life with the rushing sound of water. "I should be saying sorry to them for bringing you into theirs."
Bucky stopped and stared at Steve. "You're a punk."