Yelena & Bucky
He could imagine it; Yelena the little spider crawling through his apartment. Searching for clues to whatever map she was following. He wondered what she had found. How long it took her to track him to that place. It was too bad she hadn't found him before he'd left. Or been chased out, which was more accurate. He'd been readying himself for months for someone to come after him. But the one advantage to being a ghost story was that it didn't have many trying to find him. Any that would were either dead or old.
But then, if Yelena had found him, he doubted he would be under as friendly circumstances as they were now. So he was grateful again to the hotel.
"Спасибо. Я стараюсь уехать из места лучше, чем когда уезжал." Bucky made sure his movements were slow. He'd caught that moment, the one where the grip on her knife went just a little tighter as he'd pet Fanny. It had been subtle and maybe a normal person wouldn't have noticed. But for him, it was impossible not to see. Missing a detail like that could be the difference between life and death.
Bucky couldn't lie and say he wasn't curious how good Yelena had become. If she'd survived this long, chances were she was just as skilled as her sister. Maybe better. And Nat had been the only one who had escaped from the Winter Soldier. Maybe against Yelena, he'd lose.
He was slower with the second plum, taking his time ripping the pieces off with his metal hand. "And what about now? I didn't think you'd invite me out like this."