[Bucky Barnes; R] The Ink And Paint Club: Chapter 2 Character/Series: Bucky Barnes/Maria Hill; Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: R Notes: I like to show off science that I know nothing about. Title: The Ink And Paint Club- Chapter 2: And Then The Fight Started... Author:yuuo Word Count: 3363 Summary:Saturday came around, and Bucky fussed with his clothes, fussed with his hair, fussed with his appearance in general.
Saturday came around, and Bucky fussed with his clothes, fussed with his hair, fussed with his appearance in general. He was taking his girl to a place fashioned after the supperclubs he went to as a young man, he wanted to impress her. His hair was wrong though. He wasn't about to cut it, but it bothered him. Having it pulled back would have to do. He couldn't be perfect.
On his way to the door, after making sure he was armed and his Beretta was well concealed, he stopped and faced Steve. He took off his hat and bowed, arms out in an exaggerated flourish. "Don't wait up for me," he said with a smirk.
Steve rolled his eyes and waved him away. "Go pick her up before you're late, jackass."
Sporting a wide grin, Bucky was happy to obey that order, heading down the hall to pick up Maria. He felt good. Like time had rewound itself. The only thing that really reminded him that he wasn't picking up a girl back before the war was the lack of physical sensation in his left arm. It almost unnerved him if he paid attention to it.
But hell, that didn't matter. Hydra didn't matter. The decades didn't matter. What mattered was that he was about to spend a wonderful evening with an equally wonderful lady that he was actually trying for something long term with. He'd never had a girl in his life that had made him want that. Maria was special. And he wasn't going to ruin that by being late.
He waited at her door after knocking, wondering idly how she might've reacted if he'd brought a gift, flowers or something, but he had a feeling she probably wasn't the flowers type. She might be, though. He'd ask her for later reference.
The woman who answered the door took Bucky back even more to the old days. Maria had her hair done up in the elegant curls that he remembered, in a dancing gown in a deep purple with lavender trim, material gathered over her breasts and at her waist, her calf-length skirt loose, and it'd behave perfectly in an underarm promenade.
He had to remind himself to breathe. "That is a helluva dress," he said. "It looks good on you."
She smiled, raising one eyebrow. "Which was the effect I was going for. I'd say the same about you, but you're not wearing a dress."
"I wouldn't pull it off as well as you do," he said. "I almost feel under dressed with that dress."
She tilted her head to one side, looking at him like she clearly didn't buy that bullshit. "Are you fishing for a compliment? I'll give you one. You look stunning. Now, are you going to escort me like I know you want to, or am I walking ahead of you?"
He laughed, offering her his arm. "You know me too well, Maria."
Her door locked behind them as she took his arm. "I'm learning," she said.
The Ink and Paint Club was in Midtown, not terribly far from the Tower. Close enough that both Bucky and Maria agreed that it could be walked to. The weather was mild, warm enough for her to wear only a thin overcoat over her shoulder-sleeved dress, and cool enough that he wasn't cooking in the layers of his suit. Perfect weather for what he hoped would be a perfect night.
The host was exceedingly professional when Bucky gave him his name for his reservation. Celebrities probably went to the club all the time, another one coming in was no big deal. Without a shred of reaction beyond what Bucky considered to be good customer service, the waitress they were handed off to took them to their table right against the stage, gave them menus, offered drinks.
Scotch for him. Maria chose rum, not of any fruity flavored variety. Not what he'd expect from a woman, but Maria was far from a conventional woman, and Bucky's idea of what a woman 'should be like' was a bit outdated. With the women in his life now, and with Peggy's influence once upon a time, that notion was getting knocked out of his head.
Maria looked around. "This place really is like the movie," she said. "The only thing it needs are the toons."
"I'd say that might be out of reality's ability to produce," Bucky said, taking in the feel of the place. "But I have stopped thinking anything's impossible."
Maria made a quiet noise of agreement. After a moment of silence, she spoke up, drawing his attention away from the club itself. "I take it this place is shaking loose some memories?"
He blinked, turning his head to look at her. "Hm? Oh, yeah, it is." He sat back in his seat slightly, taking off his hat and hooking it on the back of his chair. "I haven't been to a place like this since before I was deployed to England. Some good times in those clubs." He smiled at her. "What about you? This invoking childhood memories of watching that movie?"
Maria took in a breath, studying the club. "A bit." She looked back at him. "Mostly it's making me think that it makes you happy to be here. Which makes me think we might have to make a regular date of coming here."
That brought a smile to his face. "You know, we don't have to only do things that make me happy. You being happy with something is good too."
She looked off to the side as if lost in thought. "I never had much preference when it came to where I'd like to go on a date, or how I'd like to dress, beyond comfortably. Even before I graduated college and was still dating, I didn't have much preference. So what I want is what makes you smile, as long as it doesn't make me uncomfortable." She glanced down at the floor. "We might have to have a discussion about these shoes, however."
Bucky laughed. "They're negotiable. I'll make a deal with you." He sat forward, folding his arms on the table. "I'll pick out date locations, how fancy to dress. But you tell me immediately if you don't like what I've picked out, and it'll never happen again."
"Deal," she said. "Now order your food."
"Yes, ma'am," he said with a wide grin and a teasing tone. He was somewhat disappointed to see that the menu was one hundred percent modern. Sure, there was a lot of overlap, but one thing that stood out to him the most was that there were a lot of dishes with chicken that were actually cheaper than the beef selections.
Apparently, these people had never heard of the rationing in the war time.
He chose not to comment on it; the club was based more on a fictional club from a fictional movie, set roughly in the time period he remembered. It wasn't actually trying for the 1940s feel to that extent.
After the waitress had arrived and taken their orders, they turned their attention to conversation, although the conversation stayed about their surroundings.
"So how often did you take dates to clubs like this?" Maria asked, hands folded under her chin.
Bucky studied her, wary. That was a potentially deadly question. "Not as many as you probably think," he said. "I preferred double dating with Steve. I was always trying to find a girl for him that wasn't going to be put off by his ailments and size. Never did really find anyone. But he couldn't stay long in places like this. The cigarette smoke aggravated his asthma. I went on dates with just a lady and I a couple times to an old club that was called The Twist And Screw. And yes, it was as trashy as you're probably thinking."
Her eyebrows traveled upwards. "I didn't take you for the sort to enjoy that kind of place."
He shrugged. "Most of that was in my college years up in Massachusetts. Kids get out of Mom and Dad's homes and do things they wouldn't have otherwise. I wasn't so bad, honestly. Just seeing what was out there. Decided that place wasn't for me. I prefer places that don't practically have a brothel upstairs. Just a personal quirk, you see."
That answer seemed to please Maria. "Good. They're not exactly my thing, either."
Bucky decided that the subject needed to be changed. "So how did you find out about this place?"
"I was searching for supperclubs in Manhattan," she said. "I wanted to see what they were really like. It was the top result." She smiled. "I guess the kid in me couldn't resist getting a chance to see a place from my childhood."
"Speaking of seeing a place from your childhood," Bucky said, "if Disney didn't finance this place, how did the woman who runs it afford to buy rights for it? And open it in Manhattan of all places? That's not a small amount of dough she'd need."
Maria looked towards the bar, and Bucky's gaze followed hers to see their waitress bringing their drinks over. They both said a quiet thank you, then returned to their conversation once she'd left earshot.
"Her name is Céleste Lachapelle," Maria said. "She's the daughter of Aldéric Lachapelle. He's a famous art collector. Found a Monet original and got rich selling it. He went into the business of restoration. She worked for him for awhile, then opened this place. I'm not sure what sort of legal play it required to get the rights to open this place without getting sued. I'd imagine that her lawyers were very good at what they did."
"You did your research," he said, impressed.
She smiled, a faint quirk of her lips. "I don't like going into unknowns."
"And yet, you go on dates with me," Bucky said. "Because having two Avengers out and about together can't possibly attract an unknown."
"I see you like to live dangerously, challenging the world."
"Life's no fun otherwise."
Topics shifted. Tony was going to be leaving in two weeks for California. He was working on things with Bruce and Bucky, but Pepper still had a company to run, so she had already gone ahead, leaving Tony and Junior to catch up. And naturally, Junior was allowed into the thinking and plotting room, otherwise known as the penthouse. And no work got done with her around.
"Three grow men completely wrapped around a tiny cat's paw," Maria said, shaking her head. "It's amazing the power of a cute and fuzzy animal."
"Never underestimate it," Bucky said. "I'm actually thinking of inflicting one on our apartment. Junior might be enough for us right now, though. I don't have to clean her litter box, and it makes me laugh to think of Tony having to do that."
Maria grinned, laughter in her eyes. "It's certainly something I wouldn't normally think he'd do. But he's so taken with that cat."
"I did not expect that when I offered her to Pepper," Bucky said. "I figured she'd be more Pepper's than Tony's."
"The cat had other plans," Maria said. She paused whatever else she might've been about to say when the waitress appeared with their food. They thanked her and waited until she'd left and they'd had a chance to sample their food before resuming talking.
"It's not bad," she said, cutting another piece of her salmon. "I prefer your cooking, though."
"Now you're just flattering me."
She looked at him with some measure of annoyance that he wasn't prepared for. "Bucky, I don't flatter people. I speak the truth. I genuinely prefer eating the food you prepare. Not owning a restaurant or doing anything to make your cooking famous doesn't detract from its quality. Nor from the enjoyment I, and our friends, get from eating it. Humility doesn't become you."
He was left speechless for a count of ten, staring at her, not quite sure he heard what she said. After that tenth count had gone by, he attempted to find some words. "It's not- no, humility's never been my strong suit," he said. "I just didn't judge my cooking quite that high. I'm good, I know I am, I didn't realize I was that good. That's all."
"Now you know," Maria said, taking another bite.
Bucky happily embraced another change of topics. Bruce had Tony and Bucky helping him design a new medical scanner, one to replace the MRI machine. "There was a new one designed last year," he said. "More open, not so panic inducing, works for bigger patients. But Bruce wants one that's hand held, see if we can't find a way to localize the scan to a specific spot. It'd be smaller, faster, easier to use. And if we can pull it off, it could be used on a body part distant from another body part that has metal in it. Like scanning the soft tissue in a wrist of a person with a cochlear implant."
"Or a mercenary with a metal arm," Maria added, lifting one eyebrow.
Bucky shrugged. "It was an off-handed comment about me that shoved us in that direction, yeah, but my example is probably more common than my situation." Then he grinned. "Besides, if Bruce wants any scans on me, it's probably a CT scan of my brain to make sure it's not imploding, and my arm wouldn't pose a risk for that."
"I'm sure your brain is fine," Maria said. "I would think this has been thought of before, though."
"It has been," Bucky admitted. "One group asserted that their work with terahertz sensors in carbon nanotubes could work to replace MRIs, but that's a bit ambitious. That technology uses radiation that only penetrates a few microns into the tissue. Bruce has looked in that direction before, but we're mostly focused on keeping the magnetic imaging, just narrowing its field to a specific area of the body, rather than a full body scan. It'd make diagnosing other problems in patients with cochlears or pacemakers easier. CT scans aren't sufficient in a lot of those cases, and x-rays don't show soft tissue."
"You've gone from a weapons designer to a medical imaging designer." She seemed amused by this.
"Not entirely," Bucky said. "I dabble in a bit of everything, that's just the project that Bruce has asked for my help in. Being a chemical engineer means I can work in a lot of fields. Chemical engineers can basically work in whatever field we want. Pharmaceuticals, health care, microelectronics, whatever we want. I still design some stuff, but I never approach Tony about making any of them. He's told me to do that, but I know he doesn't really like weapons being manufactured by his company."
"If he's offered, then he's comfortable with it," Maria pointed out. "He weaponized the Iron Man suit, after all."
Bucky looked down at his food, not moving to take a bite, letting the emotions the subject brought up coalesce themselves into a reply. "Steve and I kinda messed up with him. I don't like asking him for favors."
Her expression made Bucky think that this wasn't entirely news to her. "I've noticed Pepper giving you a bit of the cold shoulder. And Tony seems to try too hard sometimes. Is it none of my business, or may I ask what happened?"
He poked at his chicken. Too much chicken in that place. "You know about Howard and his wife."
"I do. Hydra killed them."
Bucky let out a slow breath. "Kinda glad to hear you say it that way. We didn't tell Tony when we first went to him for help repairing my arm. I didn't like it, but I wasn't really in a place to be able to handle telling him, and I was in enough pain at the time that Steve decided to skip the boy scout routine and just didn't tell him. I trusted that Steve knew what he was doing and that he'd take care of it."
He set his fork down, disgust at himself and guilt mingling with his words. "Turned out 'taking care of it' was that we just kept our mouths shut and hoped it never came up. And then he found out from the media over a year later. Neither Tony nor Pepper are happy with us. The only reason we're getting a second chance is because they would've done the same if positions were reversed. I'm not sure who's angrier at us, Tony or Pepper."
"I would suspect Pepper," Maria said. "You've had more opportunity to rebuild a solid foundation of friendship with Tony by working with him. You rarely see Pepper. I couldn't guess where Steve stands, but I would be very surprised if Tony hasn't forgiven and let go."
A half a smile formed on his face. She was right, she always was, and he liked listening to that pragmatic wisdom, the way she said it, and the convinction she spoke with. It was part of what made him want something long term with her, something he'd never wanted before.
"Well, I guess sharing drinks over science is a good bonding ritual, so yeah, probably. I need to get Steve around him more. Maybe he'll have the same luck. And we both owe Pepper a few million "I am sorry"s written on the chalkboard still."
"Did they really do that when you were in school?" she asked, slightly steering the conversation away from a touchy subject.
For which he was grateful. "Oh yeah. There was also the whole sit in the corner thing and swats on the fingers and ass with a switch or a ruler. School was brutal in my day."
Her face was one of sympathetic disbelief. "I can't imagine how hard my father would've come down on the entire school district if one of my teachers had so much as touched me. Or any of us."
"If he's anything like my father, like a ton of bricks, I'd say," Bucky said. "My father never approved of anyone but him and Mom getting to administer physical discipline. It was one thing to fear our parents when we messed up, it was another to not feel comfortable at school because of it. But Dad had a good degree in biology, learning was like praying to him. And he wanted it to be that way for us kids. Hard to learn when you're too busy wondering what the teacher's going to do to you for protecting the sick and scrawny kid on the playground from bullies."
"Steve?"
Bucky tilted his head back with an exasperated smile. "Almost every damn day. Kids are assholes. I'm surprised Steve managed to make it to adulthood sometimes."
"He had a good guardian angel running around to keep up with him."
That got him to lift his head and stare at her like she'd just said the Pope was actually a pagan. "Did you just call me an angel?"
She smiled, her eyes full of laughter. "Maybe not an angel. Just a frustrated shadow."
"Very frustrated." He picked up his fork again. "So what about you? What've you been up to? You never tell me what you do for Stark Industries."
Maria seemed to hesitate. "I'm not sure how much I can tell you," she said. "What we're working on will change some views that society holds on certain subjects. It's not something that can be thrown out into conversation easily." She looked around. "At least not in public."
"So I should probably be asking Pepper or Tony," he said. At her noise of agreement, he nodded once. "Does this fit in with the energy business or the medical toys we're working on in R&D?"
"No, not quite," Maria said. "We're creating another focus for the company. I can't say more, not without permission from Pepper. I don't doubt she'd give that permission to tell you. Maybe not Steve, if only because him trying to keep a secret doesn't always work out well when he's around someone who can't know that secret a lot."
"Sharon?"
"For the moment."
"For the moment?"
Maria motioned around with her fork, chewing her food. Right, public.
So whatever Tony and Pepper had recruited Maria on, it was something the government wasn't going to like. Given how Pepper had Maria working heavily on whatever this is, he had a feeling it might've had something to do with SHIELD's destruction. He could make a couple guesses, but there wasn't much point in speculating until he'd talked to Tony or Pepper and gotten the information from them, or permission for Maria to explain it.
"Well, for the forseeable moment, she's around him almost more than I am these days. Speaking of them, though, some interesting gossip, if you don't mind the traditional sort."
Before she could do more than lean forward to hear better, a woman with blonde hair and brown eyes that almost reminded Bucky of Sharon, passing for a cousin, perhaps, walked up to them. "I don't mean to be interrupting your meal," she said. "I'm Justine, I'm the manager here."
Something about her tone made Bucky wary. She was holding a professional expression, but she sounded nervous, her voice had the slightest of quivers. Her hands were fidgeting. There was a trace of sweat on her brow. It was possible that she was just overheated- maybe she'd been in the kitchen recently and was sensitive to the temperature back there. But that was being hopeful.
"Did we do something wrong?" he asked.
"No, no, not at all," she said, swallowing tightly. More signs of nerves. She lowered her voice, almost to a whisper, just barely audible over the noise from the other patrons and the noise coming from behind the curtain on the stage their table was pressed up against. "You're James Barnes, as in the Winter Soldier?"
Oh Christ. He probably wasn't welcome and she was afraid to confront a known assassin and mercenary on it. "I am," he said, keeping his tone level.
She sighed, her shoulders relaxing and her hands shaking even more. "Good, good. We have... a slight problem. There's some men that entered through the delivery door, they're carrying-"
Several shots rang out; Bucky had a half second warning beforehand from the fear on Justine's face as she looked up. With the bullets already fired, even he couldn't move fast enough to shove the manager to the ground before three solid shots hit her in the chest. He and Maria both ducked under their table, backs against the stage as the sounds of several automatics fired overhead.
"Guns," he said between breaths, quick with the unexpected burst of adrenaline. "They were carrying guns."