Chapter Text
The job was close to ideal.
He never stayed in one place for long, he could make contacts and stay informed, room and board were not an issue nor was the usual requirements for a job like a social number or real identity, but the part that Bucky enjoyed most was being alone. The old him had been a social butterfly, but the old him hadn’t lived in the ‘modern’ age where common sense was rare, being social meant having a ‘smartphone (which ironically enough, made the user more stupider by using it) and people were just rude.
All of Bucky’s adult life had been overcasted by the war. Even before Pearl Harbor, he had grown up with a sense of duty thanks to his Pops serving in the First World War, so it was no surprise he enlisted the first moment he could. Dapper with young blood rushing through his veins and a war seemingly drawing nearer and nearer to American shores, Bucky like the rest of the Greatest Generation, lived like there was no tomorrow. A favorite with the dames not only for his dancing ability and the way he wore his hat, there weren’t many nights when Bucky wasn't dragging Stevie out on another double date to some dance or movie or party. Sure the night usually ended with Bucky pulling Stevie out of a fight but even then, they’d shake hands and become friends. Then, Stevie had wanted to be everything Bucky was, and to Bucky, Stevie already was.
Thinking of the scrappy punk, Bucky shook his head. Nothing was ever the same after his shipped off, it seemed everything had changed: Stevie, the war, and Bucky himself. He remembered feeling so mixed up inside, like someone had let loose a twister inside his head. Feeling both proud and betrayed by Stevie all at once, feeling overshadowed and forgotten, duty bound as ever but this time set with his steel will of determination. The nagging ball in the pit of his stomach that told him something just wasn’t right. It wasn’t until the programming had been broken and the two halves in his head stopped fighting that he began to grasp why. Bucky regarded the sickly memory of Stevie with a sigh that turned into a ‘tiff’ when his stomach rumbled.
Usually, he’d push through the remaining few hours till his delivery was complete. There were barely any other vehicles on the road this time of night and he didn’t have to worry about the police, but maybe it was the memories that spilled out into the cab or the sharp summer air that he finally let in that compelled him to stop at the little bright diner he had passed by for months without a second look. The Blue Moon Diner looked like any typical greasy spoon from the out side. Two cars parked in the over sized lot, a neon open 24 hours sign blinking out into the highway with a small dark group of shuttered stores, a fruit stand, and a tiny hotel near by. There was a clearing that became slightly wooded which backed into the side of the hills around them.
Bucky rubbed his eyes and headed in the direction of the diner while he considered when he last time had had been to an greasy spoon had been. A cheap little place in 1942, the first stop on the way home from boot camp.
He laughed at himself and decided he wanted the same thing he had ordered that night, a chocolate shake so thick you needed a spoon, a sturdy straw and a good pair of lungs to tackle it. Then a juicy hamburger no greens extra cheese and Hellmann's maybe bacon with some golden fries.
Grumbling stomach and milkshake desires instantaneously dropped as Bucky nearly turned heel and out the bell festooned door he had just walked through.
From somewhere rafted the Big Band tune “In the Mood”, the chrome and Formica counter-tops with their red vinyl stools had seen better days but had been lovingly polished and mended, semi glossy glamour shots of Hollywood stars like James Cagney, Judy Garland, Jimmy Stewart, Joan Crawford, Bette Davis and a few Bucky didn’t recognize graced the walls and booth stalls along with movie posters. Near the service counter hung a sun faded “Star Spangled Man with a Plan” ad with Stevie grinnin his cheesiest grin with the slogan “Your Bonds Fund Our Boys”.
Coming to stand before it, Bucky’s jaw went slack as his eyes fell on a small perch beside Stevie’s poster. There sat a golden brown careworn teddy bear in a dark blue peacoat, brown pants tucked into kid leather boots and complete with a felt rifle and utility belt adorning his coat.
“Bucky Bear, the Gund Co. 1944” read the label on the perch.
“Unbelievable.” Bucky breathed reaching out for the bear.
A sudden sharp stab in his side stopped him short and he looked down to his side. A pair of large dark determined eyes lined cat eye style in thick khol met him.
The girl was at the most five feet and more pale than she should have been, a lovely face framed in a bob and watermelon pink lips. He could swat her away like a fly or scoop her up in his arm to bring her eye to eye with him with no effort and he knew she knew that, yet she held a pen to his side all the same.
“Don’t touch the bear.” she said in a quiet voice that belied her sparkling dark eyes.
Bucky dropped his arms and found himself smiling despite himself. “The fella looks like he can take care of himself.” he said deciding definitely scoop her up.
Slipping her pen into the pocket of her apron, the girl reached up (on her tippy toes) and straightened and smoothed out the bears uniform. She touched the bear with hands that spoke of years of loving memories that Bucky found himself suddenly in envy of.
“Of course he can, he’s Bucky Bear. That still doesn’t mean you needa get your mitts all over him. Now what can I get you, besides the bear?”
Bucky took a seat on a stool near by and opened the menu she handed him. He smiled to himself and ordered a milkshake and burger.
When she brought him the shake, the girl caught Bucky glancing over at the bear again. He flicked out his tongue and smiled self consciously at her.
“What’s the interest in the bear?” she asked wiping the counter absently.
“You first.” Bucky replied though he was sure he already knew.
Something about this girl, Birdie by her name tag, made him feel...alive, he realized puckering his lips around the straw submerged in his shake.
She smiled with a faint blush on her full cheeks looking over at Bucky Bear. “He’s mine. My grandpa gave him to me when I was about four. He would tell me stories about the real Sergeant Barnes and the other Hallowing Commandos when I was small. I always loved those stories. My Papa was a Navajo code talker during the War. This is his place, I just run everything now since he’s in a home. I tried managing this place and watching him but it didn’t work. I have a aunt who’d sell off this place in a second if she could, I decided to carry on this work here. It’s his pride and joy, when he remembers who he is. I brought Bucky on board to help keep an eye on things.” she added with a wink before she went off to pick up his plate from the pass through window.
Bucky found it difficult to slurp up his shake with the huge lump in his throat.
Chapter 2
Notes:
I decided to add this quick chapter since I'm having a lot of fun writing the story...As always, feed back and comments are encouraged!
Chapter Text
It would be a month before Bucky stood with his hand on the door of the Blue Moon diner again. He took a deep breath and pushed his way in, the chiming of the bells tied to the door seemed loud and almost startling in the music free diner. This time, there were a few 20 somethings, a duo of truckers and a lone biker scattered about the diner, and to add to his displeasure, a older woman with spray hardened hair took his order.
He felt uneasy at the 20 somethings laughter, he disliked the diner being so quiet without music, the waitresses overly sweet perfume nearly made him gag and after two cups of coffee he couldn't stand her gum smacking any longer.
Once back in the dark stillness of his cab, Bucky sagged into his captains chair with a sigh.
James Bucky Barnes, Sergeant in the United States Army and former elite assassin called the Winter Soldier had never, never, never-ever backed down from a scrap. Not when Stevie and him started a brawl with the entire football team of their rival high school, not when a up and coming crime boss informed him he had picked the wrong gal to dance with, not when he and the remainder of the 107th realized they were surrounded and about to be captured-
Yet, the last time he had been to the Blue Moon, he had turned chicken and ran.
He had thrust his hand into the pocket of his jeans, pulled out an hundred dollar bill, thrown it on the counter and hurried out of the diner before the girl had time to return with his meal.
Bucky had sped away only to pull off the side of the highway a few miles away. His heart pounded like a war drum in his ears, sweat beaded on his brow and he could not seem to catch his breath. He had gripped the steering wheel so hard in cracked under the the pressure of his left hand.
At first, he hadn’t understood why he had to leave, he had just fled. When the panic attack passed, he was profoundly ashamed and annoyed at himself. Steering the rig back onto the highway, Bucky pushed the Blue Moon and that girl far out into the fringes of his mind. Instead, he went over his self appointed mission. The information he had gathered, the various threads that wove a simple chop shop in Reno, the high end black market of Hollywood, and a promising scientist in San Francisco into a rechartered and reorganized fraction of Hydra.
He drove past the diner nearly weekly, hauling goods of varying degrees of illegal from a staging warehouse just south of the Canadian border down to Anaheim.
His single minded focus had worked, at first.
The first time driving past, he became cotton mouthed and clammy but he had, as the other truckers enjoyed saying; kept on truckin. He couldn’t truck away from the memory of that quiet smile and those dark pink lips when he closed his eyes and it irked him to no end.
The second time, he blew by as fast as he could. His eyes watching the bright inviting glow of the diner grow farther and farther away in the rearview mirror as the gnawing in his stomach grew.
The third time, Bucky had almost stopped. Almost, as in the parking lot was bare again and he had begun humming the opening notes of the Glenn Miller tune while his foot eased off the gas and began to stray over to the brake. Then realization set in and he turned sharply back on course with a shaking hand.
The realization was that Bucky Barnes had finally been bested by a five foot nothin dame and her teddy bear.
Now, to his chagrin, he had finally wavered and she wasn’t there.
As his rig roared to life around him, Bucky took a pouty lipped glance at the diner again, and found his conqueror hurrying out of a old Chevy truck and into the diner. A flash of her spotless apron under a unzipped hoodie explaining her haste.
With a groan from the depths of his soul, Bucky slumped over the steering wheel.
Chapter Text
It was about half an hour before the stiff haired waitress left and Bucky nervously stalked over the loose gravel of the parking lot. The massive lump was in his throat again as was the conflicting need to run and the want to be no where else in the world but there.
Bluesy jazz played softly while the biker snored like the rumble of his motorcycle in the corner. The girl had her back turned to the diner, speaking to the cook at the pass through window.
The former assassin took a seat at the counter again, focusing his enhanced hearing to eavesdrop.
“I’m starting to think it was him too. He’s just the very last person I want it to be.” she sighed.
“THAT one,” replied the sharp British accent of the cook, “doesn’t seem to be of much help either. Unless its help giving away free food and coffee.”
The girl snorted. “Well, at least I know where he’s not thanks to Ned. He means well. Anyways, there’s a guest. Take your fifteen Tammie. I’ll handle things.”
As the girl turned around, Bucky licked his lips. He looked up from the menu he had picked up. Her eyes went wide at the sight of him and he felt his stomach dropped to his ankles. He tried to smile…
A heartbeat later, Bucky found himself hauled over the counter by his jacket collar and nose to nose with the dame of his dreams, a butter knife held to his jugular.
“What the hell?” he snapped grabbing her wrist. “Are you always this friendly to your customers?”
"Did you take him? Did you take him?!!” the girl repeated her eyes wild.
This close, Bucky realized she looked horrible; her eyeliner was smeared across her already darkly shadowed under eyes, her eyes themselves looked red and puffy. He also saw the tears brimming in her eyes and the haunted look of hurt.
He let go of her wrist.
“Did you take my Bucky?” Her small round chin trembled.
Bucky tried to speak but his voice failed to sound the words his lips mouthed. He looked from the girl to the perch. The perch was empty. He turned back just as the cooks gentle voice and touch peeled the girl away from him. Bucky scurried over to the perch and bonds poster. He stared with knotted brow at the empty space while the girl came to his side followed by Tammie.
The cook muttered something into the girls ear and smiled up at Bucky then nudged her.
“I’m sorry.” the girl said quietly.
“She’s not been right since they lifted the bear,” Tammie added giving the girl a look, “not that she was ever right to begin with. Can I offer you a milkshake?”
One of his trademark crooked smiles eased over Bucky’s face and he shook his head. “No thanks, mam. I'll take some coffee and pie though if it's not much trouble.”
With a blushing smile Tammie hurried off to the kitchen, giggling.
The girl was quiet for a few long moments before she turned her dark eyes from the empty space to the man standing near her.
Though not overly fond of the shaggy, brown growth of beard and 90’s grunge look, she had become smitten with him the first time he stopped by the diner to then have her crush crushed when he disappeared. Then, like now; his intelligent sky blue eyes and his noble manner coupled with his easy swagger made her melt. The anti hero brooding air to him and that dam tilted smile didn’t help her much either.
“I really am sorry...um, sorry I didn’t catch your name before you Houdinied last time.” she said putting out her hand to him. “I’m Birdie Yazzie.”
Bucky looked down at her hand and licked his lips nervously.
Throughout his lives as Bucky Barnes and the other as the Winter Soldier, he had prided himself on his ability to perform his skills at the highest possible level of mastery. This included his ability to become someone. He had several lives and lies ready at a quick notice. Lives, histories, accents, quirks and movements that made up a life he was ready to cloak himself in and with such ease.
It was easy.
It was what he did and he did it remarkably well.
But there laid the why to how Birdie had bested the former assassin.
He didn’t want to become just somebody. He wanted to be just her Bucky. So he relented accepting in this defeat.
“James Barnes, my name is James Buchanan Barnes.” the lump in his throat went flat.
The lump in his throat had been those words. Words he hadn’t spoken since 1944, words he now knew to be true.
The words he hadn’t shared with anyone but Birdie.
Her pupils narrowed, then she reached out and grabbed his left arm feeling it.
Bucky unzipped his jacket and pulled off his baseball cap tossing them to a near by booth. She gazed up into his face for a long breathless minute like she was reading it. He wondered what she saw. The girl then looked from his face to his arm touching the latter carefully like she was scared to break it. She then slowly swept her palm from his gloved hand up the shiny metal bands that formed his forearm. The metal was cool under her touch and she wondered if it ever pained him. Or if he ever felt his phantom limb. She smoothed her hand higher to where the star seeped through the crisp white cotton of his tee shirt like blood on virgin snow. Her fingers sneaking under the layer of white and absently outlining the shape of the star.
Bucky had no sensation of her touch, yet just the same; her fearless caress and the warm softness in her eyes stirred his soul in a way he thought he could no longer be moved.
“I was hoping you were somewhere safe. I figured you’d become an Avenger like Captain Rogers but I still worried. In the stories Papa told me you were always so dashing and brave but smart! Did you know they made trading cards? I saw a complete set of the Howling Commandos once!” she giggled again. “I always admired you, and I always felt jaded. There isn’t anyone like you around anymore, or at least there wasn’t. When I saw the news footage from Washington and the rumors began to spread, I didn’t believe. Then I read the public files that had been released about Hydra and everything they had done to you. I curled up with Bucky Bear and cried for you.”
Birdie nervously slipped her arms around Bucky’s waist and hugged him.
Bucky gingerly wrapped his arms around her. She was a foot shorter but it made him adore her even more. He carefully squeezed her and smiled.
“But you’re ok now, aren’t you?” she said peering up at him again.
“Depends,” he retorted straight faced, “you gonna stop tryin’ to stick me now?”
Birdie giggled self consciously, stepping out of the quick hug. “I’m so sorry.” she repeated.
But Bucky shook his head with a smile, “Don’t be. Don’t ever apologize for being a dangerous dame.They tend to live longer.”
Birdie nodded shyly and turned, heading towards the counter where Tammie had set down his slice of apple pie and coffee. The cook had also set down another slice of warm cinnamon dusted pie with a scoop of ice cream for Birdie who thanked her.
“Tell me everything about Bucky Bears disappearance.” he said as they sat.
Bucky Bear had been MIA for three days, the last time he had been seen was after the lunch “rush”. Birdie didn’t think anyone during the rush would have taken him since the lunch bunch was mainly their regulars. Business was healthy and usual for late summer and only a few ever seemed to take notice of the bear. Most being more interested in the Captain America poster. In the few years that Bucky Bear had been on display at the diner, only two collectors had come in and given her an offer on the bear. One being a teddy bear collector and the other a Captain America collector. But once they knew Birdie had no interest in selling they never persisted.
So that led to the question of who would take him and why. The regulars knew his true worth was to Birdie. Some had been coming into the diner since she was a toddler towing Bucky around with her as she “helped” her grandma bus tables. There was her aunt Lily but again Birdie dismissed that too.
“If she really wanted to hurt me, she’d just sell the diner out from under me.”
Chewing a coffee stirrer, Bucky regarded the girl without a word.
“There’s one other person I think may have a reason for bearnaping Bucky.” she began, shifting on the stool beside him. “His names Ian. He’s a creep. I went out on one date with him. He used to visit the diner everyday after work for four months and everyday he would ask me out. Then he got progressively more clingy.”
“Clingy?”
“He had a temper. When I turned down his second date, he threw a fit. He started screaming and causing a scene here. He kept coming in though I really felt uncomfortable with him anywhere near me. I was in college at the time too and one day he was waiting for me after class. He had flowers and somehow had it in his mind that he was going to convince me to go out with him that night. When I just flat out told him that I wasn’t interested in him romantically, he nearly choked me to death.” Birdie shivered and by habit glanced over at the empty perch. “Even after the restraining order, he would call the diner a million times. Then a few biker friends of my Papa visited him. I don’t know what they did but after, he stopped bugging much until he got quiet altogether. I haven’t seen or heard from him for months now.”
“I want every bit of information you have about him.” Bucky said darkly.
Two days later, Bucky pulled his “borrowed” gray suv into the parking lot across from a busy motor repair shop. It’s garge doors opened out into Main street giving him a perfect view of the work going on within. He frowned down at the mug shot photo in his hand.
Ian stared back at him, his hazel eyes glaring at the camera dangerously. His hair had been closely shaved to his head. Now the gangly, sour faced Ian that stomped his way back towards the shop wore his hair longer. He absently picked at his teeth with a pocket knife, the malicious glint still in his eyes.
Bucky pulled out of the parking lot and drove off.
The police report gave Ian’s address as his parents house. It was a run down old ranch style house in a old neighborhood of Fairhollow. The house was surrounded by overgrown weeds and long dead plants, a square framed Honda covered in dirt with three flat tires sat on the lawn. A few cats lounged around under the leafy shadows casted by the old trees. He filtered among them careful to avoid the resting felines.
He came to a ground level window at the rear of the house and found it propped opened with a block of 4x4 wood.
The smell of cat urine stung his nose as he slipped through the window carefully, head and shoulder first then squeezing the rest his torso through. He reached up and hung from a exposed beam pulling the rest of himself in, then landed silently on a huge pile of clothes beside the washer that butted up against the window, a cat darted from the pile and into the shadows under the stairs. In the dim light that filtered in from the dust covered window, Bucky saw that he stood in a tiny space devoted to laundry, with barely enough room to move about it between the loathsome looking hill of clothes and the boxes stacked nearly to the low hanging ceiling. The rest of the basement was hidden behind heavy dusty black plastic sheeting in a makeshift conversion.
Bucky found the loose flat that made up the entrance to Ian’s personal space and entered with a deep breath.
Brightly lit and gleaming, most of the area of Ian’s space was lined with bookcases and shelves. He seemed to be a avid reader and intensely organized. Books, comics, video games, a few collectables; the room didn’t seem to have anything out of place. On top of the dresser, hygiene items were arranged in order of use, even his hair brush was methodically clean.
Duck lipped, Bucky began to question his first instinct about Ian. He continued his inspection of the room, finding Ian’s bed made in the tight sharp fashion of military folds. Information Bucky had gathered about him revealed that Ian had tried to enlist in the army but had been denied for questionable mental issues. Bucky bent low and peered under the low frame of the bed but found nothing underneath. As he rose, he looked over at the furnishings close to the bed and a free standing wooden wardrobe closet stuck out to him. It stood at an odd angle, its doors facing the bed where everything else faced out into the carpeted main room.
There had been a section of the space made up to be a entertainment center, so Bucky doubted there being a tv inside. He had also seen the collection of guns Ian was supposed to not have displayed near the entertainment area, so his curiosity about the contents of the closet grew stronger as he reached out and tried to open it. The lock on the doors only confirmed that something vital was kept inside.
As he picked the lock, Bucky considered what might lay inside. Anything from a Disney princess collection to a dead body was possible with the type of person lan seemed to be. He took a deep breath and opened the doors.
He exhaled slowly, staring uncomfortably at the dozens of photos taped to the inside of the closet. Photos of Birdie mostly candid like one of her standing behind the counter of the diner. Some were self taken photos, other ones appeared to have had other people in the photos but their faces and anything identifying them had been blacked out or all together cut out. Others were far more disturbing. Taken from a high up angle and some through blinds or parts in curtains, they showed the girl in her home, eating, watching tv, naked, half naked or asleep. These photos covered the part of the closet meant for hanging clothes, below that was a shelf.
The items on the shelf made Bucky’s skin crawl, which was really saying something.
They were all personal in nature: pairs of womens underwear were carefully arranged on the shelf along with a clump of hair which looked like the collected cast off from Birdie’s hairbrush, there was also a crumpled piece tissue blotted with dark red lipstick.
Bucky was already beyond uncomfortable when his eyes fell on a sex toy in the likeness of a woman's private parts stood in the middle of the shine like display. If that wasn’t enough, splotches of semen coated these things and it turned his stomach. He was turning away in disgust when he noticed something on the floor of the closet.
Taking a pen from the sleeve pocket of his jacket, Bucky squatted down and used the pen to pick it up. It was a small brown felt belt.
Chapter Text
Birdie hadn’t realized she still sat in the driveway of her Papa’s house still gripping the steering wheel of his old ‘73 Chevy until the darkness of evening grew heavy around her. She popped open the old heavy door and slid off the seat. The memory of her childhood play driving behind the wheel flooded her vision and she shook her head to clean away the memory and the tears. It hadn’t been a good day for Papa. He hadn’t remembered her, he hadn’t remembered himself for that matter. During her entire visit, he had sat in his soft brown robe and leather slippers staring out of the day room window into the garden. She had still spoken to him, as always keeping him informed of the business at the diner and news around town. Papa had barely registered her presence, of course til she tried to get him to eat his med laced applesauce.
The rage he had flown into had been directed at her grandmother, now 32 years dead. Papa didn’t know that, to him, Birdie was his his wife trying to feed him some fancy dish she thought would lead to the diner becoming more prestigious and lead to them becoming rich.
“We don’t need none of that, Gladie! It’s just a simple joint, just a simple burger joint…” he snapped throwing the bowl at her.
Once inside, Birdie lend against the front door and closed her eyes. Somewhere over head, the ceiling creaked as she pushed herself forward towards her bathroom.
It took Bucky considerable resistant to not crush the phone in his hand. For what seemed like the 50th time, Birdie’s voicemail picked up. He hit the end button and tossed into on the passenger seat with a growl. He had barely missed her at the nursing home and she had not stopped by the diner on the way back as was her custom. He eyed the tiny felt belt on the dashboard and his stomach lurched.
With the tub filled with lavender scented bubbles and hot streaming water, and a candle lit bathroom Birdie stripped out of her clothes leaving them strewn over the bathroom floor. The thud from her jeans pocket remained her her phone was still on silent. Pausing for a moment, she considered leaving it the last thing she wanted was to get another customer complaint because of Alice’s god awful perfume or news from the nursing home, but it was ultimately the hope of hearing news from Bucky (and maybe, just maybe the thrill of hearing his voice) that made her scoop her jeans up and fish out her phone.
Leaving the phone on the near by closed toilet lid, she slowly sank into the tub.
One of the few perks of being her short height was the ability to neatly fold herself into a standard bathtub, as she did now. The world disappeared under the layer of lavender foam and all she heard was her own heartbeat in her ears. The shadow that flickered pass the hallway door and then flickered a moment later passed her bedroom door was soundless as the deepening evening around the small craftsman house a few miles from town.
When she surfaced, she reached out for her loof but the scent of stale sweat made her look up. Seeing the flashing yellow light on the phone, she instead reached out and dried her hands on the towel the phone laid on and picked it up.
“What the hell?” she said clearing the fifty missed messages.
She made a few gestures and held the phone out before her, it barely rang a second time before Bucky’s strained voice answered. “Where have you been? Nevermind that, where are you now?”
“At home… Wha, what’s wrong?” she replied sitting up in the tub.
“Fuck! Ok, listen to me, arm yourself, with anything, ok? Find something NOW. I’m almost there…”
“You’re too late.”
Birdie stared up at the man who had taken the phone out of her hand.
“Why couldn’t you love just me?” Ian said biting the teddy bears ear.
“Birdie!” Bucky called.
“Why couldn't you love just me?!!” Ian bellowed throwing the phone and the bear against the wall.
Bucky’s phone went dead and he dropped his own phone, pressing down on the gas until the engine whined.
“We could have been happy together, I could have made you happy but you never gave me a chance. I could’ve been him for you, you stupid bitch!” Ian roared yanking Birdie out of the tub by her arm and hair. He flung her across the room where she slammed into the bedroom door, collapsing against it. He stalked over to her his blue eyes rimmed with red, she smelled sweat and sin on him, snapping her out of shock. “Oh sweetie, look what you made me do.” Ian said kneeling and caressing her hair. The last thing he expected was the right hook to his jaw. Or the animal like sneer that sounded from the soft full lips he had dreamt of for years.
“I’m not your sweetie, you fucking creep.”
Birdie threw herself at him in full fury. He was knocked into his back by another punch, Birdie tumbled away from him towards the hallway door but he caught her foot at the last moment. She fell to the floor before the toilet with a sharp crack and found the room whirling around her, his hands clawing up her legs dragging her towards him made her focus though.
“You’re mine sweetie heart, you’ll always be! I’ll never let go of you!” he was saying.
“To hell you won’t.” Birdie sneered twisting and stabbing Ian through his eye with the plunger handle.
With a howl as blood squirted from his eye, Ian released her.
Dashing out of the door, Birdie noticed the crumbled form of her Bucky bear on the other side of the sink and that the bathroom was quickly filling with flames and smoke from over turned candles around the sink and tub.
Despite all the voices in her head that screamed at her to run, her turned and dove for the bear, she had it in her grasp when Ian’s arm encircled her throat.
“You’re gonna be mine.” he breathed into her ear as he propped her legs open with his. “Even if it kills me.”
“I don’t fucking think so.” Birdie hissed reaching up and clawing his face. When he loosened his grip to grab a hold of her hands, she reached down and grabbed his newly exposed gentiles, twisting and clawing them until he completely released her. She quickly wiggled out from under him and ran for the door.
Bucky kicked in the front door with no effort, finding the living room quickly filling with smoke and those ear splitting alarms going off. “Birdie!” he yelled. His heightened hearing heard scuffling and a bellow come from down the hallway where the smoke was the thickest. Bounding over the couch. On the threshold of the hallway, he met a naked and wet haired Birdie as she ran out the hallway clinging to her Bucky bear.
“You will be mine!” Ian spat, charging after her. “No one else will ever have you, you sweetie heart.” He stopped in his stride and fired.
Grabbing a hold of Birdie, Bucky shielded her and shot back at Ian in the same fluid motion.
Ian was dead before he hit the floor.
Chapter Text
Prologue
As the bells on the diner door chimed brightly, Birdie looked up from pouring herself as cup of coffee. A quiet, full lipped smile spread across her face and she straightened up.
“Hey doll.” Bucky smiled back, pushing a strand of dark chocolate hued hair out of his stumble shadowed face. He took in her face, happy that the bruises and scrapes were nearly faded away. As she came around the counter to him still holding the coffee pot, his hand twitched at his sides. He reached out and took a overturned mug and flipping it over, presented it to her. He sighed nervously inside as her attention turned from him to the cup.
“Hey.” she replied back filling the mug.
When she peered up at Bucky, the girl couldn’t keep the excitement out of her large dark eyes but the soldier smirked. “You ok? You seem to be a little anxious.”
“Yeah, yeah, maybe just a little.” she laughed back nodding at the bulge in his worn olive peacoat.
“Oh, yeah that!!” he said hopping onto a near by stool and grabbing a menu from over the counter.
Rolling her eyes, Birdie turned to go back around the counter only to feel Bucky’s right hand catch hers and in a move that spoke of hours of swing dancing, twirled her around, onto a stool beside him with the perfectly restored Bucky Bear in her hands.
“Bucky!” she squeaked hugging the bear close.
“Yes?!” Bucky Barnes replied with a sidelong grin with his coffee mug at his lips.
“You’re awesome!” the girl giggled leaning forward quickly and kissing his cheek before sliding off the stool.
Scratching at his stumble with a blush, Bucky followed her to the small shelf beside the poster of Stevie. “Listen, I wanna say thanks…”
“By the way, thank you…” Birdie began at the same time.
They both laughed, glancing at each other.
“I didn’t really do anything, besides that one thing.” He said quietly.
“That was kind of a big one thing though.”
“You being straight with taking the rap was a bigger one. You could be a decent spy.”
“Decent, uh?” Birdie said perking a brow.
“Don’t get any smart ideas now, I had enough of that with that stooge.” Bucky chuckled jerking his head at Stevie.
Shrugging, Birdie smoothly perched on her tippy toes. Bucky turned his head and cleared his throat to hide his grin. She attentively placed Bucky Bear on the shelf, resting one of his paws on his clean brown belt and the other at his side. The former soldier saluted the bear and turned to Birdie.
“Welcome back Bucky.” she said smiling up at him.
JadaRyl on Chapter 1 Thu 31 Jul 2014 03:41PM UTC
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StarrieAmethyst on Chapter 1 Thu 31 Jul 2014 08:51PM UTC
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