Natalia (the_black_widow) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2014-05-04 00:42:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, bucky barnes (winter soldier), natasha romanoff (black widow) |
It was just a little beat and patdown.
Who: Bucky and Nat
What: Catching up.
When: Recently
Where: Nat's place
Status: complete
Rating: Pg-13, warnings for glossy talking about torture
Bucky had gotten word that Natasha had gone back to her apartment, the location of which he got from Steve. He was knocking on the door now, not entirely sure what was what. He knew she’d been up to something on this “vacation”, but she didn’t even really have to tell him what. He just wanted to make sure she was all right, at least for now.
She had some stitches in her forehead and bandages around the fingers of her left hand, but most of her bruises were gone. She answered the door in a sports bra and sweats, having already checked to make sure it wasn’t a trap or an attack. She figured Bucky would appreciate not having a gun in his face.
Besides, if she had to she could send him to the floor. Hopefully. Nat smiled casually. “Hey.”
Seeing her relatively in one piece did him good. “Hi. This a bad time? I thought I’d come by and look in. See for myself that you’re okay.” He didn’t want to push her in any direction, just to be nice.
“Come in. Do you want a beer? Water?” She waited for him to step inside, then bolted and locked the door. While her apartment looked fairly lived in and normal, it had a sort of falsehood to it. As though it had been made to look lived in. She opened the fridge and leaned in.
Bucky valiantly tried to ignore that lean. “Water would be good. Thanks, I appreciate it.” He wasn’t quite at the point where he could pinpoint what was wrong, but he knew something was off. In Russian he asked, “Is there anyone here I should know about?” Any cameras, any anything? He still wasn’t going to work for the FSB. He had to draw the line somewhere.
Nat tossed Bucky a bottle without any heads-up, just to test his reflexes. “Nyet. I sweep daily. They like to keep tabs, but I like to have some freedom.”
His reflexes had never been the issue. Bucky caught the bottle with a bit of a blink, though he had to adjust to make sure his real hand got around the bottle first. “Well, good for that. You look decent enough.” Well. That might have come out wrong. “I mean, you’re in one piece. You led me to believe some craziness had gone down.”
"It was just a little beat and patdown. Nothing more." Nat sank down into a kitchen chair, betraying how sore she still was, even despite her workout. "It was entertaining."
“Just a beat and patdown.” Bucky raised an eyebrow, amused. “I don’t need details, unless it has something to do with my business.” He wasn’t foolish enough to assume that all her business was his business.
“I don’t know if it does. Tangentially, at least. We shut down a cell.” She took a long swig of her water. “It was your usual band of self-described freedom fighters. We got some computer systems to crack, still. But the fucked up thing was the woman that questioned us.”
Questioning, she calls it.
Just looking at Natasha told him enough. “‘Questioning’, huh.” Bucky quirked a brow. “Hope the other woman got the worst of it.” She didn’t look good, though she looked better than he’d probably have looked, getting through whatever.
He realized, though, that he wasn’t scared of it. “Want a back rub? And I do mean just a back rub?” Sure, she was attractive, but it was way too soon. Even for Natasha.
She nodded at him, and twisted around in the chair to give him greater access. “She moved like she was fog. Like someone from our dreams would. A mutant, perhaps, or an experiment.”
“Красная комната?” Bucky asked. The Red Room? He started to work gently at her shoulders, not wanting to go overboard with the arm.
"She sounded American, but that means nothing." Nat smirked at the memory. "We played Star Wars. I was Leia, my partner was Han. It drove them crazy." She looked back at him for a moment, then closed her eyes as he found just the muscles that needed to be found. "Ooh.. Do not worry. The Rebellion is safe."
That made him laugh in spite of himself. “Stylish, I’ll give you that.” That little melting motion, he guessed, meant he wasn’t hurting her, so he kept doing what he was doing. “And no, sounding American means nothing.” As he painfully knew.
“She is in the wind, and her people in shambles. There is time to prepare.” Always prepare, never relax. Except right now, she was relaxing, and she knew she shouldn’t. Bucky was still an unknown in a lot of ways. She couldn’t trust him. But she wanted to. She wanted to ask him about Jean, and how he was doing. But she didn’t.
“For what, though.” He could see the proverbial writing on the wall. He smiled tightly. “They have a way of surprising their prey, or so it seems.” He was still angry. It had started to make him feel better, really, being angry. It was better than the heinous dead, blank feeling that had been there before.
“I don’t know, but I’ve made it my business to prepare for what I do not know.” It hadn’t been enough to save the Avengers, but she’d at least dreamed of them coming back. Still, she blamed herself. She’d been their leader at the time, and she’d lost them.
“I’m sure you’re good at that.” It wasn’t a throwaway compliment. Bucky knew enough from the dreams to know that she was critical of absolutely everything, even the best known facts. It had probably saved both their lives more than once.
He kept kneading at her shoulder. “I think you’re lucky that this wasn’t worse,” he said gently, seeing her settling against the chair.
Natasha didn’t deny it, and let the silence provide him with her answer. She’d been lucky. Maybe not all of it was luck, but enough was and she knew it. Nat groaned, shifting her shoulders and neck to give Bucky more leverage.
He knew her well enough to read her silences, even though they were from dreams. Bucky kept kneading her shoulders, trying to resolutely ignore her pleased noise. It was hard not to want to please her, even just as a friend. Natasha had never accepted less than perfection from herself, so those around her wanted to be perfect as well. At least, that was what he’d seen so far.
She made another pleased sound, then got up out of the chair. She stood there, hand in her hair, looking like she was trying to think of something. "Was life ever simple for you?"
“Yeah.” Bucky said, curious as to why she looked confused. “Yeah, when I was playing piano for a youth orchestra and training for marathons.” Before any of this; before Jeannie, before the dreams. He kept a tight rein on his emotions. It was best.
Her eyes fell to his arm. “Do you still play?” It was better than to think about other things. Because she was jealous. Jealous that he’d gotten to experience the mundane before the dreams had interfered.
“No.” He couldn’t help but sound slightly toneless. “I’m worrying more about handling myself in a fight with the arm. Delicate work like the piano can come later.” If ever. He honestly wasn’t sure he could handle playing again. He’d think of Jean every time he touched the keys.
“Delicate work like a piano will help you hone that arm for a fight,” Natasha pointed out. She dropped her hand to her side, then nodded towards the living room. “We’ll be more comfortable in there.”
Natasha wouldn’t judge him. “I don’t think I can do it.” Bucky said simply, following her into the next room. “At least not now.”
She glanced at him, then nodded her head. “Of course. Have a seat.” She gestured to the couch, then sat down, herself. She rested her face in her hands for a moment.
Bucky obliged, sitting down next to her, curious. She seemed frustrated, and he said, “I’d be willing to try something else that’s delicate; I mean, it makes sense. Just ... not that.” Not now.
“Ever make origami cranes?” Natasha asked. She lifted her head to look at him, giving him a smile. “That might be sufficiently delicate.”
Bucky couldn’t help but be amused. “Wouldn’t have thought of that. All right, I can try. Might crush a lot of paper, though.” He did have to admit that he liked her smile, no matter what else might be going on.
“We’ll buy stock in a paper company,” Nat joked. “But it will help fine motor control, I’m sure of it. Very delicate motions, and repetitive.”
“I place myself in your capable hands, Natashen’ka.” Bucky meant it, but he couldn’t help smiling a little. It was kind of silly, really - origami? - but at the same time, he understood why she’d suggested it.
"You are asking for it," Nat said, grinning at him. "Lucky for you, though, you are right. My hands are capable."
“What would you have me do?” He devoutly hoped that hadn’t sounded inappropriate. It just wasn’t the time.
The redhead gave him a considering look. “Right now?”
He couldn’t flirt. Not yet. “Within reason,” Bucky said gently, hoping she didn’t get offended. Or embarrassed. Or laugh at him for thinking she would flirt. He just hoped she reacted well, however. Damn it.
Nat pointed at the tv. “Sit here and watch something inane and boring with me.”
That, he could do, and said as much. “Absolutely.” Bucky was curious now as to why she wanted that, but he wasn’t about to object.
She thought Bucky could use a chance to decompress, and she knew she probably needed it too. Something to turn one’s brain off. “Great. Hand me the remote.”
“Can do.” Bucky obeyed, sitting back. She looked exhausted. If she wanted to veg out, he was fine with that.