Damage Control

by kate_smithgiwh

Summary:

If you'd told Mel years ago that she'd end up doing PR for a government-run team of reformed assassins and chaotic vigilantes, she would've laughed in your face. Now? She's running crisis control for the Thunderbolts*
With the unofficial job title of glorified babysitter with a headset, juggling a stack of NDAs, a definitely not romantic situation with the Winter Soldier, and a schedule full of damage she didn't cause but still has to clean up...she's got her work cut out for her.

No powers, No peace, just damage control

BUCKY BARNES X MELISSA GOLD

(Mel is basically y/n and it would be a CRIME not to write about her)

Chapter 1: Press Briefings and Protein Bars

Notes:

Heyy this story was originally on Wattpad because I couldn’t find any Bucky Mel stories on there, thank god there’s a small community on here lol thanks to the commenter that suggested I post on here 🫶

also I’m aware I spelled Alexei’s name wrong but I already wrote 15 chapters so just go with it 😛

Thunderbolts HQ - Renovated Stark Tower
Mel
——————————
If someone had told Mel Gold years ago that she'd be living in Stark Tower, she probably would've laughed in your face. If someone had told her it would be post-Tony Stark, retrofitted by the U.S. government, and crawling with emotionally unstable super-ex-criminals trying to be good people...she would've asked what drugs they'd been taking, asked for some, and then run.

But here she was, twenty-seven years old, head of PR for the Thunderbolts*, and already on her third coffee of the day. Her blazer was wrinkled from this morning's elevator mishap, her inbox was a battlefield, and her stress-induced eye twitch had returned for its unwelcome weekly visit.

The Stark logo was still faintly visible beneath the military seal they'd bolted to the lobby wall, a ghost of the building's legacy. Like everything else here, the shine didn't quite cover the history. She'd already had two meetings this morning—one of which ended with a tablet thrown across the room (not hers thankfully) and her schedule was drowning in red alerts and half-promises. Her head throbbed just thinking about it.

"Melissa! You have a second?" Alexi's voice boomed across the tower's open atrium. She flinched.

"I—kind of don't, actually." She continued in her hurried pace, heels echoing against the polished tile floor as she moved like a woman on a mission...or several. A ping on her tablet lit up the screen with another meeting request. Her sigh was more dramatic than she intended.

Alexi jogged up to her anyway, grinning, phone in hand. He was proudly wearing the neon-orange "SUPER SOLDIER DAD BOD" jumpsuit he'd found off Etsy. "I need help with the TikTok." He proclaimed, waving his phone for emphasis.

Mel shook her head, not looking up from her tablet. "Absolutely not."

"But Yelena said—"

"She was probably messing with you."

Alexi paused then gave a hearty chuckle. "She's always messing with me."

"Exactly." She pushed through the doors to the common area, Alexi following close behind.

Inside, chaos was simmering as usual. Ava and Walker were in the middle of what sounded like a heated debate about tactical protocol versus common sense. Yelena had claimed the living room's couch and was scrolling with military-like precision. Bob stood awkwardly behind her, watching her phone over her shoulder and mumbling questions she clearly wasn't answering.

It wasn't a team. Not yet. It was a half-broken support group with tactical gear and murder experience.

Mel continued in her hurried pace and rubbed her temples. She forced herself to glance down at her glaring to-do list. Prep statements for the Bucharest incident, redact Valentina's off-record comments before they triggered another international incident, schedule press shots without anyone flipping off the camera this time, and more, always more. She needed five new assistants, a time machine, and a nap. But all she had was herself and this team.

 

Bucky
——————————
The upper floors of the tower were quieter. Not silent, but calmer. Bucky liked it up here, when he wasn't thinking too hard about the height. The glass gave him a view of the city, always moving, always loud. But the floors above the team's chaos felt like his own corner of stillness.

He heard her before he saw her. Sharp, quick footsteps, unmistakable.

Mel.

Overworked, under-slept, probably existing entirely on caffeine. She was always moving. Always holding things together. She wasn't like Valentina, he knew that now. Mel wasn't calculating and cruel. She wasn't like the others either. She stood at the eye of the storm, separate but never detached. She didn't pretend to have answers, but she always came up with a plan.

She spotted him halfway down the hallway. "Would you mind telling Yelena to stop submitting fake sponsorships for her dog?" she called, not breaking stride.

"I think she's serious this time." he replied.

Mel glanced over her shoulder. "She listed Fanny as a 'canine ambassador for peace'."

"...Okay maybe not."

 

Mel
——————————
Later that evening, the tower's common area had settled into what passed for relaxation. A sitcom playing, loud enough to fill the space but not enough to be a distraction. Ava sat cross-legged on the rug, Bob was folding laundry and smiling softly at the jokes. Walker had given up on trying to argue over the team's choice of show and resigned himself to the couch grumpily. Yelena held the remote a small smirk on her lips. The large windows glowed with neon lights from the bustling city below, the tower's sleek new renovations a weird contrast to the half-functional team inside.

Mel perched on the arm of the couch, laptop balanced on one thigh, thumb flying across her phone screen. Her brain felt like a file folder mid-explosion. Statements to prep, meetings to schedule. God, what had Valentina said this time? She half listened as the boys argued over a new debate topic.

"I'm telling you," John was saying, "I could've taken Rodger's in the ring. One-on-one, no shield."

"Pfft," Alexi scoffed. "Please. I once lifted tank. You would cry just looking at Steve's biceps." He laughed loudly as he brought a shot of what Mel could only assume was vodka to his lips.

"Alright, Soviet Captain Crunch, calm down—"

Mel didn't laugh, but the corner of her mouth twitched, just barely.

"You ever stop working?" The voice was soft, almost a murmur, but it cut through the noise.

She looked up from her computer. Bucky was in the armchair across from her, arms crossed, same unreadable face, same eyes that seemed to be calculating three things at once.

"Not really." She brushed some hair out of her face. "Turns out trying to manage the public image of a redemption squad is a full-time job."

He raised an eyebrow. "Even off the clock?"

"I dont think I've been off the clock since the mission in Krakow."

He didn't smile, but something behind his eyes softened. Like he got it. Like he was used to carrying weight long past when he should've put it down. After a long pause, he reached into his pocket and tossed her something across the coffee table. She caught it on reflex. A protein bar.

"Peanut butter," he said. "You missed dinner."

She blinked. "I ate on the go."

"Sure you did."

She stared at him for a second too long. She couldn't quite figure him out. There were patterns in his behavior, even if he himself didn't realize them. The door-holding, intervening quietly when someone got too pushy (usually Val), the little things. Small, quiet choices. But it always caught her off-guard. The softness in someone that the public so outwardly feared, their hesitance couldn't be farther from the truth.

"Thanks." she replied finally.

Bucky nodded once, and got up and left without another word.

Yelena looked from the TV just long enough to smirk. "You've got a fan."

Mel sighed and pocketed the protein bar. "Don't start."

Yelena held up her hands in mock surrender. "I'm just saying the man wouldn't do that for anyone else."

"Sure he would, and it was only because I forgot to eat. Once." she replied as she continued to type like her life depended on it.

"Three times this week." Ava piped up from the floor.

Mel groaned. "I need new friends."

"And a new sleep schedule," Ava said, without looking away from the screen.

Mel shot the both of them a look before diving back into her ever-growing workload, but not before glancing to the hallway Bucky had disappeared down. Just for a second. He was just old fashioned, chivalrous one could say, years under ice doesn't take that away, it was nothing more. She rolled her shoulders, back to work.

Chapter 2: Red Carpets and PR Nightmares

Thunderbolts* HQ - Stark Tower, Later that Week
Mel
————————
Mel adjusted the neckline of her black jumpsuit in the mirror and exhaled sharply. It was tailored, sleek, and slightly out of her budget even with the government stipend. But tonight was about optics. Clean lines, poise, a sense of control. All lies she had to wear like her vanilla perfume which she applied liberally.

There was a knock. "We're ready out here." Ava called peeking her head through the door of her apartment-styled room. "And tell your face to stop looking so nervous."

Mel muttered a curse under her breath and reached for her clutch. She'd already triple checked the rundown on her tablet: senator's intro, photo ops, press gaggle, light mingling, and because the universe hated her, Valentina was rumored to be making an appearance . Whether she'd show or not was anyone's guess. Mel had drafted two separate statements just in case.

She opened the door to find Bob in his tux standing awkwardly nearby.

"You look...sharp. In a good way. Not in a knife way." He smiled nervously.

Mel blinked. "Thanks...you too."

Bob blushed. "You're welcome. Uh Bucky's already glaring at people and we haven't even left yet, so, you know...strong start."

Mel fought the urge to roll her eyes and followed him down the hallway. Yelena passed them in floor-length backless number that screamed dangerous. She offered a casual, "Try not to die out there." and a thumbs up over her shoulder.

Alexi had somehow acquired a bow tie with cartoon bombs on it. "Is this themed?" He asked proudly.

Walker gave her a once over. "Looks like you dressed to win a war."

Mel gave him a tight smile. "I try. Now let's go make some bad decisions look like good PR."

Event Hall - Midtown Manhattan
Mel
————————
The gala was in full swing by the time they arrived, and Mel immediately wished it wasn't. Gold light spilled from chandeliers overhead, cameras flashed in every direction, and rich donors buzzed like flies around a buffed, of speeches, champagne, and self-congratulations. Mel didn't hate fancy events, she might even enjoy them. She hated fancy events in which she had to babysit super-soldiers.

Alexi was already drawing attention like a bear in a rental tux, cheerfully shaking hands with donors and taking selfies. At least he was enthusiastic. Yelena looked like she could kill somebody with a hair pin and still make Vogue's best-dressed list, she was halfway through her first glass of wine, chatting with Bob. Ava, cool and brooding, head to toe in black, lingered by the bar. Walker schmoozed effortlessly, chin up, smug smile, though Mel could practically hear the countdown ticking before he said something inflammatory.

And Bucky?

Bucky looked like he'd rather be on fire.

He stood near the edge of the room, suit jacket slung over one shoulder, hair slicked back in a way Mel was not going to acknowledge. His hands were in his pockets, watching, waiting, like a wolf politely trying to blend in with a flock of peacocks. She gave him a brief nod in passing. He gave her one back, curt and unreadable.

Bucky
————————
He didn't like this.

The way people stared, the way their smiles didn't reach their eyes. The click of cameras. The lingering suspicion under the surface of every handshake. He'd gotten enough of a taste of this way of life in the brief time he was a congressman to know it wasn't for him.

This wasn't his world. Hell it wasn't even Steve's. Steve would've known what to say at least. Would've shaken the right hands, smiled for the right cameras.

Bucky just stood there and tried his best to not look like the loaded gun they thought he was.

Naturally, his eyes drifted to Mel, weaving through the crowd like she was born to crisis-manage. She smiled when needed, gently nudged Alexi away from a buffet table disaster, wordlessly fixed a crooked tie on Walker. Then she moved toward the press pit and started redirecting questions like a seasoned storm-chaser.

He'd met her at an event like this one. Her calculating smiles or lack thereof had been directed to him instead. Now he watched as that same energy was directed to the donors in the room.

He caught that familiar flicker of exhaustion in her eyes, then it was gone.

Mel
————————
It was going fine.

She had it ALL under control.

Until someone asked Alexi if he'd ever killed a man with his bare hands. In front of the press. Next to a state senator.

Before he could begin to act it out, Mel swooped in like a hawk, steered the conversation towards rehabilitation, and prayed the soundbite wouldn't make it to social media. She was mid-pivot, mid sigh of relief, when someone jostled her shoulder and she lost her balance.

Before she could brace herself for the fall, a strong hand gripped her waist and held her steady. Her stomach fluttered at the unexpected contact, before looking up to her mysterious savior...Bucky?

Her gaze shot to his just as two quick flashes blinded her. Camera flashes. He must've wandered behind her without her realizing and of course caught her. Strong, steady efficient as always.

Bracing a hand on his annoyingly strong chest she pushed herself off of him. "I'm good, I'm good. Thank you." She brushed herself off, already scanning the crowd for the photographers in question, ready to hunt them down, but there were too many people.

He nodded once blinking away the flash of the camera. "Didn't want you falling into the press pit."

The corner of her mouth twitched despite herself. "Thanks for the save, Captain Subtle."

He actually looked amused at that.

As she walked away her panic flared as she mulled over the details. The angle. The flash. The two of them, frozen mid moment. Hand at her waist. Her hand braced against his chest.

She smacked a palm over her face.

Oh for fucks sake.

A waiter passed by with a tray of sparkling champagne. She grabbed two.

Thunderbolts HQ - Later that night
Mel
————————
"We've got a problem." Yelena announced, phone in hand, tone far too cheerful.

In the common room, Mel was still removing bobby pins from her hair, her heels discarded haphazardly below her. "That sentence should be illegal after midnight."

Yelena approached her and turned the phone screen around. "Your new PR nightmare."

Mel stared.

A blurry, zoomed in photo from the gala. Bucky holding her. Headlines ranging from "Winter Soldier's Secret Flame?" to "Who's the Lucky Woman Beside Barnes?"

Bob peered over the back of the couch. "They say you two have 'smoldering chemistry'." He quoted, reading an article from his phone.

Ava leaned in. "I don't know. You were looking at him kind of soft." She turned her sharp gaze onto Mel's face. "It's a good look on you."

Mel rubbed her temples, her headache revving back up. "I was trying not to fall."

"You also didn't deny it." Yelena added smugly, earning a chuckle from Ava.

"Because theres nothing to deny, it's ridiculous!" Mel snapped already done with this entire evening.

"Mm-hmm." Yelena sang, a shit eating grin on her face.

As if on cue, Bucky entered. Freshly showered, towel hung around his neck, wearing casual clothes again, clearly unaware of the conversation. Mel forced her eyes off of him.

The room went miserably quiet.

He looked around, a confused frown over his features, and then his eyes met Mel's. "What happened?"

Mel turned to him with the tight smile she'd been using all night. "We're trending."

"What else is new?"

"No, not the team. You and I."

He blinked and glanced to Yelena and Ava's mischievous expressions. "Do I want to know why?"

"No. But I'll send you the link anyway." She responded tiredly.

He nodded slowly. "Should I do anything?"

Mel sighed and stood, picking up discarded heels up from the floor. "Just...maybe try to avoid rescuing me in front of a camera in the future."

He frowned in confusion. "So let you face-plant?"

She gave him a deadpanned look. "Exactly.

Chapter 3: Internet Shipping

Thunderbolts HQ - The Next Morning
Mel
———————
Mel woke up to thirty unread messages, three missed calls, and a migraine blooming behind her eyes. She blinked down at her phone. Her grandparents had texted her, she didn't even knew they knew how to work an iPhone. They'd sent a grainy photo of Bucky and a text that said, "He's very handsome Beta! Your Grandfather says strong jaw=strong babies! Call us!" and a slew of heart emojis.

Mel stared at the screen like it had personally betrayed her. Then she saw an email from Valentina. No body, just the subject line: "IM ON MY WAY"

She shut her yes and considered falling back asleep forever. By the time she stumbled into the common room, she'd done everything but change out of her sweats. Laptop in one hand and an empty coffee thermos in the other, she was already emotionally bankrupt for the day.

Bucky was on the couch.

Of course he was.

He looked away from whatever Bob had put on the TV and gave her a cautious nod.

"Hey."

"Morning," she muttered. It wasn't. Thank God it was the weekend.

She made her way over to the espresso machine and began making her coffee she so desperately needed.

"You ok?"

Mel blew out a breath watching the espresso drip into the cup. "Let's see. I'm trending on Twitter. I have PR fires in three time zones. And my grandmother thinks you're my boyfriend."

Bucky blinked and hesitated. "Do you want me to say something online? Like, clarify the situation?"

Mel glanced at him as she poured creamer into her cup. "Do you even have Twitter?"

He turned in his seat. "I can make one. Post something cryptic, like 'the moon landing was fake' people seem to go crazy over that stuff. They'll forget everything else for at least six hours."

She almost choked on her coffee. "Thanks," she said, "but the internet has decided we're in love and no amount of lunar conspiracy theories will change that."

He looked weirdly stricken. "Love?"

She waved her hand dismissively. "Not real love." she said quickly. "Just...internet shipping. You know."

He didn't answer right away.

Yelena strolled in with a granola bar and zero tact. "Are we talking about the fan edits again?"

Mel sighed. "There are edits?"

"Dozens." Ava interjected, following her in. "There's a whole montage of Bucky catching you in slow-motion to 'Pony' by Ginuwine, it's trending."

"The one from Magic Mike?" Mel asked miserably.

"You know it." Yelena smirked, taking a seat at the kitchen island. "I'll send it to you, don't worry."

Mel sighed. "Please don't."

Bucky looked like he wanted to crawl under the couch and die.

Yelena patted Mel's shoulder. "Honestly, it's not even the most romantic thing on the team. Have you seen the edits of John and his dumb shield?"

Ava laughed. "Don't worry, it'll all blow over...unless your family has gotten a hold of it."

Mel let out a long slow groan. "They already have. They're texting me about grandchildren." She buried her head in her hands.

Bucky choked. "Grandchildren?"

From behind her hands, Mel nodded.

Yelena wheezed and Ava just about dropped her protein shaker. "At least they approve."

"They think he looks like a Bollywood prince." Mel's words muffled into her hands. "They called him a 'brooding dreamboat' and asked if he was fertile."

Bucky descended into another coughing fit.

Ava looked delighted, "Honestly? Fair."

Bob wandered in just to hear the tail end of that sentence and muttered something about "fertility discourse before breakfast," and retreated immediately back into the hallway.

"I hate it here, this day is cursed." Mel groaned finally looking up from her hands.

Yelena laughed. "Val's going to flip."

"She sent me an email this morning, just the subject line, all caps, no punctuation. She's on her way here now."

At that the whole room groaned.

Then, as if summoned by bad vibes and even worse timing, Valentina Allegra de Fontaine strolled in. Perfectly styled, espresso in hand, trouble radiating off her like expensive perfume.

"Well," she said, dropping a tablet onto the kitchen counter in front of Mel with the tabloid headline front and center: WINTER SOLDIER'S MYSTERY WOMAN: IS LOVE BLOOMING WITHIN THE TOWER?

"Guess who's trending globally?" Val sang, practically grinning ear to ear.

Mel closed her eyes. "Kill me."

"No need, honey. This? This is gold." Val slid onto one of the bar stools with the ease of someone who was about to cause problems on purpose. "Public loves a good redemption romance. Brooding assassin, capable woman, maybe a tragic backstory? I can spin that into a six-part docu-series and merch."

Yelena deadpanned. "Please do not make this a reality TV show."

Valentina sipped her espresso gleefully. "Too late."

Mel's jaw dropped. "You're kidding."

"Of course I'm kidding," Val said with a wink. "Mostly. But come on, this could work for us. A little harmless PR fluff while we finalize that Senate oversight proposal. No one cares if Walker punched a guy if Bucky Barnes might be in love." She gestured over to the miserable super soldier on the couch.

Mel shook her head as if willing this timeline to dissolve around her.

Yelena took the tablet and scrolled down on the article. "At least they said you looked radiant."

Mel threw a packet of sugar at her which the ex-assassin easily dodged while chuckling.

Val ignored this. "Think about it Melissa, this'll solve a lot of PR items on your to-do list." She looked closer at Mel's face. "And heaven knows you need to sleep more, your eye bags look awful."

"Gee thanks."

———————

By evening, Mel had issued a soft denial to a few press outlets: "No, I am not in a relationship with Sergeant Barnes. We are simply colleagues who happened to be photographed at an unfortunate angle." and tried not to scream when the internet decided that was exactly what someone in a secret relationship would say.

She stared at her phone. Her grandparents had sent her a voice message this time. She didn't have the emotional strength to open it. Instead, she wandered into the kitchen, where Bob was mercifully alone, chopping vegetables and watching a cooking competition on his iPad.

He glanced at her. "Need a snack? Tea? Anti-anxiety cocktail?"

Mel smiled tiredly. "Just something that doesn't come with unsolicited relationship commentary."

He handed her a slice of bell pepper and said gently. "You know...you're handling this better than any of us would, you always do."

Mel bit into the slice of pepper and chewed slowly. "I feel like I'm unraveling."

Bob nodded. "Totally fair." He tossed the vegetables into the pan in front of him. "But you're unraveling in style."

She chuckled faintly, the smell of roasted vegetables filling the room. "I just...I didn't sign up to be perceived this much."

Bob stirred the pan absentmindedly. "I think that's why they like you. You didn't. You're real."

Mel rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Do you think if I staged a deeply awkward public breakup with Bucky the headlines would go away?"

"Only if he gets custody of the dog you don't have."

"Ugh."

As she turned to leave, she hear him add behind her. "Hey, Mel?"

"Yeah?"

"For what it's worth...I think you and Bucky would be cute."

She groaned and stomped away.

"Just saying!"

Chapter 4: Viral Mayhem

Thunderbolts HQ - Next Day
Mel
———————
The internet had hardly slowed down on the dating rumors, her inbox and social media feed remained screaming at her in all caps. She'd have to deal with that later when she had more than half a brain cell to spend on it. For now, the official Thunderbolts public training day needed all of her attention. Valentina had ordered it on the basis that their sponsors needed to see what the team was capable of, that they knew how to work together. There would be reporters, drone cameras to capture all angles, the whole shebang. In the planning Yelena had jokingly offered to livestream the event on social media. Naturally, Val had thought it was genius, because why not make Mel's life harder?

Her heels clicked rapidly along as she finished up last minute details, Bob following close behind, helping where he could. She'd made sure she looked presentable and ready for the event. If the press was suddenly taking an interest in her she didn't want to look as undone as she felt. Pulling on her headset over her freshly curled hair, Mel squared her shoulders, ready for battle.

"You ok?" Bob asked setting down the last of the chairs for the press section.

"Always." she forced herself to feel positive, throwing on a reassuring smile. "Today is a new day."

He grinned. "That's the spirit, at least you're not crying in the supply closet."

She sipped her coffee. Said nothing. Because he had cried in the supply closet. Once. Early days. Nobody needed to know.

———————

Mel stood at the edge of the training mat, headset slipping down one ear, clipboard hugged to her chest. She tried to remain positive, she really did. In any other setting Yelena's live-streaming might've been fine, some controlled footage, clear branding, harmless fun. Except this was them.

Alexi was showing off with increasingly absurd feats of strength. Ava was sparring with one of the drone cameras instead of her actual partner. Walker was talking to one of the reporters about politics, lovely. And Yelena was ignoring her sparing partner and instead was walking around narrating to the camera like it was an episode of Keeping Up With The Kardashians.

Bucky meanwhile, was mid-sentence with a reporter, unenthusiastically explaining how his vibranium arm worked, when Yelena turned her camera on him.

"And here is Barnes!" She announced like a TV host to her viewers. "The man, the myth, the legend."

Bucky shot Yelena a look, and Mel almost laughed, until Ava's drone, freshly kicked, went flying straight toward her.

"Shit! Watch out!" Ava called, far too late.

Mel barely had time to register the warning before Bucky moved. Quick. Fluid. He stepped in front of her catching the drone mid-air with his metal arm. He stood like a shield in front of her, like she was made of glass.

Naturally, Yelena's live stream zoomed in on the moment of action. "Seriously?" Yelena shouted. "You got a hero complex Barnes?"

Mel flushed scarlet. "Thanks." She muttered.

"You okay?" He asked, already stepping back to give her space. His voice was low, steady.

"Fine. Totally fine. Thanks."

Yelena turned the camera to herself and Mel, flipping it selfie-style. "Chat, you seeing these lovers?"

Mel's stomach sank as she caught a glimpse of herself on the screen, and then the rapid flood of comments.

thunderboltslover69: HE CAUGHT IT FOR HER???
buckysgirl123: shes so mid lol, sleeping her way to the top?👀
iheartavengers: Why is this bitch always around??

Mel flinched as Ava materialized beside her, expression stricken. "Shit I'm so sorry I didn't mean to kick that at you."

"It's fine." Brushing a hair from her face, Mel stood a little straighter.

Alexi stomped over, eyes huge. "Wait! You two are dating?"

Mel's mouth fell open. "What? No—"

"We're not," Bucky said flatly, glancing down at her.

Alexi waved a hand. "But it all makes sense now! The protection, the tension, the long stares. You're always picking up her calls and—"

"It was just a drone Alexi." Mel deadpanned.

"A drone of fate, maybe."

Yelena cackled. "I'm creating a ship. Team name? Buckel? Melucky?" She nodded decisively. "Yep I like that one."

"Absolutely not." Bucky raking a hand through his hair.

Mel's phone buzzed. A reposted clip of the incident was already climbing in views. Caption: "Their chemistry is insaneee."

She scrolled. The comments got worse. Mocking her appearance, claiming she was using him to work her way up in the company, trashing her very being. Her stomach twisted. She forced herself to breathe. "Everyone just...get back to it." She ordered. Did she have that authority? Probably not. They listened anyway, hesitantly drifting back to their stations. She turned on her heel before anyone could see the way her hands were shaking. Bucky caught her eye, brows furrowed, watching her too closely.

She looked away first.

Valentina Allegra de Fontaine's Office - Later that day
Mel
———————
Mel stood in front of the glass desk, the weight of her phone in her hand like a branding iron. Valentina watched her calmly, but she knew better than to underestimate her temper. You never saw the dagger until it was already in you.

"You know what I see when I watch this?" Val tapped the phone on the desk, the screen showed the incident from earlier. She had to admit, if it were anyone else, she'd have thought it romantic too. That thought only made her stomach twist further.

"Public embarrassment?"

"A love story." Val smiled, sharp and wolfish. "I told you, the media loves a good romance."

Mel exhaled.

"But they hate women like you."

Mel blinked. "Excuse me?"

"They hate women they can't categorize. You're not a superhero, you're not famous, you're no model. They hate the idea of some 'nobody' hitching herself to a war hero's image. You don't fit the mold. So they tear you apart."

Mel felt her throat tighten.

"If we don't get ahead of this," Valentina continued, "you'll be framed as manipulative, undeserving, a distraction. And frankly, I don't need PR distractions. Not to mention, donors and investors hate distractions."

"What are you suggesting?"

'We need to control the narrative." Valentina leaned forward. "You and Barnes. Date. Real or fake, I don't care. Make it cute. Make it strategic. Own it."

Mel stared in shock, her mouth agape. "That's your plan?" she sputtered.

Valentina's eyes narrowed. "Honey. Remember why I hired you?" She sounded less nostalgic and more like she was setting something up.

"Because I was...adaptable?"

"I could have people lined out the door to take your place. Someone more media-friendly, a PR manager that will solve problems, not add fuel to the fire. Because that's what you're doing hon." Valentina sat in her office chair too casually. "You can either make this right, or I can find someone who will."

Silence.

Mel didn't let her shoulders drop until she was back in her room.

Thunderbolts HQ - Gym
Mel
———————
Mel hovered just outside the threshold of the gym doorway, palms sweaty, heart pounding. She could hear rhythmic thud of fists hitting a bag.

She spotted Bucky by the far window, fists flying, punching with machine-like precision. Focused. Frustrated. This probably wasn't the best time to bring this up, but if she put it off any longer, the anxiety would eat her alive. She approached, legs heavy with dread.

"Hey," she said softly.

He looked up, instantly alert. "You okay?"

"Uh." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Not really. Can we talk?"

He nodded, wiping his hands on a towel. "If this is about earlier, I'm sorry I didn't mean for it to blow up like that." He sounded genuinely upset, she vaguely wondered if he'd seen the comments too.

She closed her eyes and launched into it faster than she intended to. "Val wants us to fake date."

A beat.

"What?"

Shit. "She think's its the only way to control the narrative. That if we act like we're together, the media will back off, and the public might." She took a breath. "Might stop saying that I'm just here because I'm sleeping my way to the top, or that I'm a stain on this institution, or—"

She cut herself off, eyes burning. "She forced my hand. If I don't go along with this she'll replace me—and I won't lose this job, I've worked too hard to get here—"

Bucky leaned forward. "She threatened to replace you?"

Mel nodded. "She said she want's someone more 'media friendly'."

His jaw clenched.

"I know it's asking for a lot, and you don't have to, you shouldn't have to." She whispered, hating how small she sounded. "But I can't loose this, not the job, not..." the unspoken 'not you guys' died in the back of her throat.

He exhaled slowly. "Then we fake-date."

She blinked. "Just like that?"

"You're not getting pushed out because people on the internet don't know who you are."

Something about the way he said it made her eyes sting again. Like he cared, like someone was on her side.

He gave her a half smile. "We'll make it believable. Want me to plan a fake anniversary date?"

And just like that he was joking with her, as if everything was under control. She snorted. "Only if I get to pretend you're terrible at planning it."

"That won't take much pretending."

———————

That night Mel curled into bed her laptop closed beside her. Tomorrow she'd plan something to say to the public, an official statement, a caption, a lie to pass as truth.

Popping a melatonin into her mouth she stared at her ceiling.

Outside her rooms, the team's laughter echoed. Yelena and Ava teasing John, and Alexi loudly declaring he was ready for his own dating show.

Oddly enough, the noise grounded her.

This was her life now. A total nightmare, maybe still falling apart, but somehow...it felt like home.

And if she had to fake-date the team's resident heart-throb to keep it? Well. She'd fake date the hell out of him.

Professionally, of course.

Chapter 5: “Melucky”

Thunderbolts HQ - Next Morning
Mel
———————
Mel walked into the common area with a speech in her back pocket and a pit in her stomach.

She'd rehearsed it three times, maybe four. Quick and clean. Explain comments, explain Valentina's ultimatum, and clarify that she and Bucky would only be pretending for the media. That was the plan.

She did not plan for the lively atmosphere and for Alexi to shove a full shot glass into her hand the second she stepped into the room.

"There she is! Congratulations! Drink!"

Mel stopped cold, putting the glass on the counter. "What? Why? What's happening?"

"For love! For courage!" Alexi shouted, pumping his fist in the air.

"Why would I need courage?" She asked warily.

"Because your face is everywhere." Yelena spoke up from the couch. "Valentina made it official."

"What? I—no-no she didn't." Mel sputtered, scrambling for her own phone. The one night she keeps her notification on Do Not Disturb everything blows up, well...more so than usual.

"I had a whole statement planned," She muttered scrolling. "I was supposed to break the news myself!" She raked a hand through her hair, squeezing her eyes shut to center herself. So much for trying to keep control of the situation. She took a deep breath.

Ava settled beside Yelena with a steaming mug of tea. "So you and Barnes are the next big PR stunt, huh?"

Mel could only stare at the glowing screen in disbelief. There it was, Valentina's post on the official Thunderbolts account. A photo Mel hadn't even seen before, of Bucky helping her carry boxes into her room when she'd first moved in. The caption? "Bucky and his better half ❤️#Melucky"

Mel's eye twitched. "Melucky?"

"Told you it would catch on." Yelena said smugly.

"Oh my god." Mel dropped into one of the chairs. "I had it all planned. Everything."

"Boring." Alexi said, pouring himself a shot this time. "This is better! Real reaction. Drama! Tension! Romance!"

"We're not actually—" Mel stopped herself. "You all know it's fake right?"

Walker didn't look up from his phone. "We're not stupid."

"I just—okay. Sorry. I didn't mean for this to be sprung on you all like this."

"Appreciate the thought," John added, "but Val texted us before breakfast. Something about 'narrative consolidation' and 'media heat indexes'."

"Of course she did." Mel muttered.

Alexi held the shot out to her again. "To your fake love!"

Mel deadpanned. "It's nine-thirty in the morning."

"Coward."

That was when Bucky walked in, hair still wet from the shower, long sleeves rolled to his elbows, making his biceps look too impressive to be legal. He paused at the edge of the room, taking in the shot glasses in front of Mel and Alexi, and the awkward silence as everyone turned to look at him.

He glanced at Mel. "I'm guessing you told them?"

"Not me, Valentina. She posted online...without my knowledge." Mel sounded like she'd just bitten into a lemon.

Bucky sighed. "Figures."

"You're a PR boyfriend now Buck." Yelena said sweetly. "You should try smiling more."

"Hard pass."

Mel stood, and smoothed her slacks. "I really was going to tell you all, and the public, properly."

Bob looked up from his iPad. "It's okay. We get it. Valentina's got a knack for throwing things off balance."

Mel exhaled. "So you all are on board for this?"

Alexi threw an arm around her shoulder like a proud uncle, jostling her. "Absolutely! This is amazing! and concerning, but mostly amazing!"

Yelena rolled her eyes at her father's enthusiasm. "Yeah just give us some warning before you two do anything PDA-adjacent in public."

"Yeah" Walker chimed in. "And keep it off mission time."

"Noted" Mel muttered. She glanced at Bucky, half-expecting him to be mortified. Instead, he just gave a small shake of his head and reached for a coffee mug.

"No turning back, we're committed now." He said dryly as he began to make his coffee.

"To the bit." She agreed.

He gave her a sidelong glance, and something about the way he said it 'committed' made her stomach flip. Nerves, obviously.

———————

Later, the team gathered in the conference room. Usually reserved for mission briefs and reports, today it looked like a messy marketing agency. The glass was now covered by blinds for the illusion of privacy, though judging by Alexi's volume, it was futile.

"I just think we need to establish aesthetic parameters," Ava was saying, gesturing with one of those pointers with the little hand on the end. They'd pulled out a rolling whiteboard, in dry erase marker writing, it read: 'Melucky: Brand Guide.' Ava continued. "Do we want soft and domestic, or edgy and war-crimes adjacent?"

Mel blinked. "Those are...our only options?"

"Those are your vibe options." Ava replied coolly.

Bucky, seated beside Mel with his arms crossed and a look that said 'I'm surviving this only out of solidarity' , shifted in his seat. "Is a 'no vibe' an option?"

"No," Yelena and Ava said in unison.

"Come on Barnes," John leaned back in his chair "You and Gold over here are the internet's new favorite couple for whatever reason, you might as well try and understand how it works."

Bucky gave Walker a cold look. Mel nudged his arm lightly. "Could be worse. You could've been shipped with Walker."

Bucky scoffed lightly. "I wouldn't have done this for Walker."

Mel blushed despite herself and turned back to Ava and Yelena's plans.

"I've got it!" Ava perked up. "A domestic couple's post. Like...'he made me pancakes' —Or you in his hoodie. Low lighting. Caption: 'my world whole world in one frame.' Ava and Yelena laughed to themselves.

Mel sighed. "That doesn't even sound like me."

"But it will!" Yelena said cheerfully, spinning a marker in her hand like one of her knives. "You're going to win over the hearts of America and salvage your Thunderbolts PR standing. And maybe, just maybe, Bucky will finally learn how to smile in a photo."

"Low blow," he muttered.

She grinned. Alexi raised his glass. "To love!"

"We're not in love." Mel and Bucky said in unison.

"Right, fake love." He amended with a wink. "Which is more dangerous. You have to sell it. You must ignite passion, confusion. Misdirection!" He announced. "You know when I had to fake marry Melina, it was hardly fake, by the first night we—"

"Dad!" Yelena cut him off before he could continue his spiel. "Alright. Focus. You'll need a roll-out plan. Content drops, photos, videos. Something casual for the morning, something more intimate later to keep up the illusion. You two can start with something low stakes today." She mused, tapping a finger to her chin.

"How do you all have time to help me with this?" Mel asked. "I know all of your schedules."

"This is what happens when we're off mission and have nothing to do on weekends." Ava said, smiling like this was a binge-worthy TV show.

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Okay, you said low stakes for today. What does that mean?"

"Dinner!" Yelena grinned. "I've already made us a reservation. Tonight. The whole team. That way you all wont have to jump right into one-on-one dates. Sit close, maybe share food.

"Oh thats good!" Bob cheered Yelena on. "Wait do I have to go?"

"Yes." Yelena said flatly. "Team effort. You too, Walker."

"Yeah yeah." John waved her off, not entirely paying attention.

"Dinner sounds...fine." Bucky said, eventually, not thrilled, not protesting.

Mel glanced around the table. It was absurd. Color coded-markers, a whiteboard full of strategy, and Ava's tiny pointer. And yet, for the first time in a while, she didn't feel like she was drowning in it alone. Sure, the teasing was annoying, but it also meant they were in this with her. She just hoped she wasn't dragging them down with her.

"Just so we're clear." she said looking at each of them in the eye. "We are just making this believable. Nothing more than what's necessary. No 'Melucky' shirts—I'm looking at you Alexi." She pointed.

He groaned. "I canceled the print order already."

She stared. "You what?"

"Not important anymore." He waved it off.

Yelena bit her lip to keep from laughing. "Anyway," she said, gather up the markers like a camp counselor cleaning up craft time, "our reservation is at seven. It's a nice place so everyone look appropriate. And you two" she added looking at Mel and Bucky, "try to not look like you're planning a covert extraction the whole time."

Mel sighed and stood, Bucky did the same. As they left the room, he gave her a sidelong glance, leaning in slightly.

"How you feeling?" he asked.

She nodded slowly. "Fine...Just didn't expect to be crowdsourcing my fake relationship today."

He looked amused and somehow, that made it better. "Welcome to the team."

Chapter 6: Dress Codes and Decoys

Thunderbolts HQ - Later That Evening
Mel
———————
Mel started getting ready alone.

It wasn't some kind of statement. She just didn't like the fuss. She liked routine, the grounding beats of her 'going out' playlist, comfort of doing her own makeup, her own hair, at her own pace. She knew her angles. She knew how to survive events like this. A black midi dress, practical heels, a low bun, and just enough concealer to hide her eye bags.

She looked...fine. Presentable. Not trying too hard. She could disappear into the background, which was often good.

Then came the knock.

As soon as she cracked the door open, Yelena and Ava barged in like a rom-com makeover tornado. Both looked effortlessly cool, both in sleek dresses.

"Oh...you're not wearing that dress," Yelena said immediately, deadpan.

Mel blinked and instinctively looked down at herself. "Excuse me? I like this dress."

"Yeah sure it's...fine." Yelena replied, already rummaging through Mel's closet with the help of Ava. "If you're going to a board meeting. Or, I don't know, a wake."

Mel rolled her eyes as Ava gasped in victory as she pulled out a dark black slip dress Mel hadn't seen in years.

"I bet this makes your chest look great." Ava commented examining the plunging neckline.

"Oh no, no that's too much." Mel waved her hands as if warding off the sinful energy of the dress.

"Nope, nothings too much. Put this on and then sit, we're doing your hair next." Ava crossed her arms over her chest defiantly.

"I was going for subtle." Mel muttered and looked down at her outfit once again. Okay...maybe it was a little...bland.

"You're fake-dating a super solider." Yelena said. "There's no 'subtle'."

Mel gave in with a sigh. Twenty minutes later, her bathroom looked like a battlefield of makeup brushes and bobby pins. But, she couldn't argue with the results. The dress clung in all the right ways, her makeup was glowy, her hair was romantic and loose, looking like something out of a shampoo commercial.

She looked like someone who had their life together. Or at least someone who could maybe, possibly, believably be on a date with Bucky Barnes. She looked...

"Hot," Yelena said from behind her, arms crossed like a proud stage mom.

"Devastating." Ava added, snapping a picture on her phone. "For documentation." She smiled sweetly.

Mel swallowed. "Do you think it looks like I'm trying too hard?"

"Nope." They said in union.

Outside the room Alexi's voice echoed down the hall. "Where is everyone? We're going to be late! John is taking photos of his jawline again!"

"Time to go," Ava said, scooping up her clutch.

"Try and walk like you know how." Yelena added as she ushered Mel out the door.

Restaurant 7:05 PM
Bucky
———————
The guys had arrived first. It was one of those polished but unpretentious downtown spots, low lighting, industrial-chic furniture, and enough noise to make any eavesdropping difficult. Alexi and John were deep in a spirited debate about whether bourbon or vodka better captured the "essence of America", Bob was happily sampling the complementary bread basket, and Bucky...

Bucky sat near the end of the table, nursing a glass of water and checking the front door like it owed him money.

He wasn't nervous, not really. This was fake. A favor. A PR stunt. But God...He couldn't remember the last time he'd been on a real date. He'd forgotten how waiting could make you feel like your shirt didn't fit right.

Then the doors opened, and she walked in.

Flanked by Ava and Yelena, Mel looked like she belonged on a red carpet. The dress, black, sleek, daring, caught the light in a way that momentarily made him forget where he was. She looked—She looked beautiful. And not just "pretty" or "cleaned up." Not just "surprisingly good for someone who once fell asleep on her laptop during a debrief." She looked powerful. Elegant. A little flushed from the bustling atmosphere. Her hair framed her face like something out of a movie. The dress hugged her in a way that made his brain reboot for a second.

She looked like trouble.

"Jesus Christ." John muttered beside him. Bucky hardly had the mind to shoot him a glare.

"I know." Bucky replied before he could stop himself.

Mel caught his eye then, her smile flickered like she was trying to gauge his reaction. One hand smoothed her dress, as if to remind herself it was still there.

"Hey," she said, her voice casual but slightly breathless. "Sorry we're late."

Bucky stood without thinking, pulling out the chair beside him. Call it the fourties' chivalrous instinct. "You look...great."

Mel blinked, a little surprised. "Thanks. You clean up alright too."

They sat, and something subtle passed between them. A pause, a held breath. Then—

"To love!" Alexi cheered, raising his glass with all the gravitas of a priest.

"Oh god." Mel muttered, though she couldn't help but chuckle.

Bucky, for once, just smiled. A real one. "To the bit," he said.

Mel clinked her glass to his. "To the bit."

 

Mel
———————
Mel had caught the way Bucky had looked up as they entered, the flicker of surprise, the way he straightened slightly, the barely-there parting of his lips. It made something hot and shaky coil in her stomach.

The night blurred in the haze of wine and candlelight. She was tipsy, definitely tipsy. Her cheeks were flushed, her leave was easier, and her usual edge had been dulled by the soft security of being surrounded by people who (despite everything) felt like her people.

Yelena ordered another round.

"You're trying to kill me." Mel chuckled as she finished her glass of wine.

Yelena grinned. "This is a celebration. You are famous and dating. It would be criminal not to toast that."

Mel opened her mouth to correct her (again) but Alexi cut in before she could.

"Yes! Let her enjoy! Who cares if it's real or fake? She looks radiant! He looks...like a man forced into a hostage situation." He gestured vaguely at Bucky.

"What?"

Mel tried not to laugh. She really did. Instead, she sipped her new glass and leaned back in her chair, body relaxed in a way she hadn't felt in weeks. Her shoulder brushed Bucky's. He didn't move away.

Across the table Ava was talking with Yelena. Bob was sipping on a soda, Walker was definitely texting someone under the table, probably sending shirtless selfies to whatever dating app had matched with 'Captain-America-lookalike,' and Alexi of course was looking over his shoulder and offering unsolicited pointers.

It was, in its own way, kind of perfect.

Then the warmth hit her a little too fast. "I'm gonna go freshen up," Mel murmured pushing back her chair.

"Don't fall in," Yelena teased, "Or do. We'll send Bucky to save you and get some good content."

Mel gave her a lazy middle finger on the way out, which only made the others laugh harder.

She found the bathroom tucked in the back hallway, dimly lit and elegant like everything else in the place. Inside, the mirror is what caught her off guard.

And hell, maybe it was the wine amplifying it but...She looked good.

Not flawless, not runway ready, but flushed and glowing, her hair curling slightly from the humidity, lipstick faded just right. She looked like a woman in the middle of a great night. And maybe that was what threw her.

This wasn't supposed to feel good. This wasn't her life, this wasn't real. She was supposed to be the fly on the wall, the assistant, the woman behind the curtain. Not this blurry fake-girlfriend of the nation's newest heartthrob with cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass.

Mel ran her hands under cold water and stared herself down in the mirror. "It's just PR," she whispered. "Get a grip."

She opened the bathroom door just as someone else rounded the corner.

Bucky.

Of course.

He stopped a step too close, hand instinctively reaching out to steady her.

Mel was still glowing pink a little from the alcohol, eyes wide in the low light. A rogue strand of Bucky's slick back hair had fallen loosely in his face, falling across his brow. His suit was tight on his muscular build in a way that made her want to scream into her purse. He looked good. Unfairly good.

"You ok there?" He asked, eyes scanning her face.

"Yeah," she said quickly. "Just needed a minute."

His gaze lingered down on her a beat too long. "You clean up nice."

Mel's heart did something traitorous, she couldn't tell if she was doing something weird with her face. "Thanks. You...um. You look good too."

"Wow." He smirked down at her. "Try to contain yourself."

She laughed, pushing past him gently. "See you at the table."

He watched her walk away, and for once, she didn't try to overanalyze the way his eyes stayed on her longer than necessary.

———————

Back at the table Ava looked up as Mel sat down. "You were gone forever."

"Bathroom line." She shrugged, stealing one of Yelena's fries.

Buck returned a moment later and took his seat beside her again, and maybe Mel's mind was playing tricks on her, but this time she could've sworn he leaned just slightly closer than before.

She didn't move away.

The next round of drinks arrived, and Alexi raised his glass-again. "To our favorite couple!" He cheered for what had to be the fourth time that night, sloshing his drink.

Mel put her head in her hands, giggling helplessly behind them. "He's like a broken record," she mumbled to Bucky.

"At least he's not talking about grandkids." He muttered back referencing Mel's grandparents.

Mel choked on her drink. "Please don't give him ideas—"

"You two!" Alexi bellowed, stabbing his finger toward them dramatically. "Have strong bones! Excellent genes! You would make terrifyingly athletic children!"

"Alexi!" Mel gasped, eyes wide, her voice caught between scandalized and hysterical laughter. The responsible side of her coming to surface to remind her that they're still in public.

"Please stop talking about reproduction." Bucky said, deadpan, which only made Ava snort into her cocktail.

Yelena was nearly in tears. "Strong bones!" She cackled.

John to his credit, tried to look disapproving. "Let's not."

Alexi waved him off. "You're just jealous no one wants your bones."

Walker flipped him off. Ava laughed into Yelena's shoulder.

Mel leaned against the back of her chair, hand on her stomach as the laughter finally began to settle. Her eyes flicked to Bucky's again, and he met her gaze with something that wasn't quite amusement, wasn't quite tenderness. Something else, something softer she couldn't place.

She glanced away too fast.

She wasn't supposed to be this warm inside. She wasn't supposed to notice how strong his vibranium hand looked resting on his lap, or how his laugh, rare and gravely, made her want to bottle it up for later.

She took another sip of wine and realized she'd nearly finished her fourth glass. Oh she was definitely drunk.

"Okay," she whispered to herself. "It's time to go before I say anything suggestive."

As if on cue Ava spoke up from across the table. "We should probably call it. Before Alexi blows this thing out of proportion."

Alexi was already waving down the waitress for another bottle of wine and shouting something about finding Mel a dowry.

"Agreed." Bucky said, rising from his seat. He hovered at Mel's side, a protective instinct she was starting to recognize.

The rest of the team followed, stumbling into motion. Ava had her arm slung around Yelena's shoulders as they teased Walker about a girl he was definitely texting under the table. Bob collected his to-go box with reverence. Alexi tried to pay with a Canadian twenty before Bucky stepped in with his credit card.

They stepped outside into the cool night, and Mel inhaled deeply, grateful for the fresh air and the sudden hush of the city around them.

She didn't notice the small crowd across the street until Bucky subtly stepped in front of her.

Camera flashes.

"Thunderbolts!" one paparazzi shouted "Are the rumors true? Is Bucky Barnes really dating Melissa Gold?"

Mel's eyes widened, the use of her full name hitting her like a slap. She tried regain the persona she'd so often used in public press events, but it was so far from her grasp.

"How long have you two been dating?"

"Can we get a kiss for the camera?"

Mel's buzz fizzled instantly. She reached for her composure like a life raft, the warmth from earlier tightening into something stiff in her chest.

Bucky's hand, gentle but firm, settled against the small of her back.

"We're just heading out," he said smoothly, implementing the easy smile Mel had taught him to use with press so long ago. He guided her toward the waiting SUV like it was second nature.

She didn't say anything until they were tucked into the dark leather seats of the van, the others filing in with tired laughter and the smell of perfume and alcohol.

But her back was still warm from where Bucky had touched her.

Bucky glanced over. "You okay?" He asked quietly.

Mel nodded. "Yeah." She said almost convincing herself.

Bucky's expression softened and he nodded like he heard it anyway.

Yelena popped over the seat. "By the way, the internet loves your dress. You're welcome. Also, 'Melucky' is trending more than ever."

Mel huffed a laugh and let her head fall back against the seat. "I don't even want to see what god awful photo they used this time."

Ava laughed handing her phone to Bucky. "No it's cute, I promise, real classy."

He studied it with a slight smirk. "It's nice."

Mel turned toward the window to hide her flushed cheeks. Damn this wine.

Yelena nudged the back of Mel's seat with her heel. "This is working. You two keep this up and we'll have Vogue knocking by next week."

Notes:

When I'm writing the "going viral" scenes I feel like those movies where they go "WE JUST SENT IT TO THE WHOLE SCHOOL"

Chapter 7: Live From Studio Three

Notes:

hey y'all this chapter got a little more angsty than I'd planned. This chapter includes themes of sexual harassment/trauma so if that'll put u in a bad place scroll to the end and i'll give u a brief summary.

Thunderbolts HQ
Mel
———————
When they'd arrived back at the tower her vision was slightly swimming at the edges but not dangerously so. The others had dispersed to their own rooms and Mel had tried to quietly escape to hers but Bucky caught her in the hallway, a quiet presence.

"Hey"

Mel turned, leaning slightly against the wall. "Hey." She smiled softly. "You survived dinner."

He mirrored her expression. "So did you."

A beat of comfortable silence passed between them.

"You-uh, you gonna be ok on your own?" Bucky gestured to her place by the wall.

She chuckled, if she didn't know any better she might've thought he sounded sheepish. "Yeah, this isn't my first rodeo. I've got a water bottle with electrolytes already beside my bed."

He nodded a faint smile tugging on his lips. "Get some rest Mel."

"You too."

Mel lingered for a second after he walked away, watching his retreating figure down the hall. The glint of metal of his hand caught the hallway light as he turned the corner.

She let out a breath and slipped into her room, heels finally kicked off, dress shucked to the floor. For a moment she just sat on the edge of her bed, the buzz of the wine finally beginning to ebb away. After finishing her routine she climbed into bed, electrolytes in reach, phone faced-down, breaths coming easy.

She didn't know what those moments had been, at the restaurant, in the hallway, whatever had passed between her and Bucky. Maybe it was in her head, maybe it was just the wine. Whatever it was, she didn't want to poke at it too hard. Not yet.

Sleep came fast.

———————
Thunderbolts HQ - Next Morning
Mel
———————
The buzz of notifications was quickly becoming her new alarm clock. Half were just tweets from the '#Melucky' hashtag, the other, emails and texts from Valentina informing Mel that she'd scheduled the team plus Mel and Bob for a morning talk show. In her words they needed to "capitalize on the viral attention."

Mel was already taking mental notes. A team-wide PR push. Everyone had to look united, charming, likable, marketable, and ideally less stabby and controversial. As always Valentina had given her little to no time to prepare.

———————
Television Studio — 12:00pm
Mel
———————
By 12pm she'd somehow managed to corral everyone into the studio.

Alexi had needed a lint roller and tried to convince Mel to let him wear his Etsy jumpsuit, it took too long to talk him down from that wardrobe nightmare. Yelena wanted to know why they were doing a last minute interview because "their enemies should already fear them, not follow them on instagram." Ava only agreed to come after Mel had promised they'd break for an early lunch. Walker was already wearing foundation someone else had applied. Bob sat beside Yelena, nervously asking if his hair looked alright.

Bucky, thankfully, didn't complain.

He just stood behind her while she paced with her tablet and stylus. Quiet and steady, always just a few steps away. Maybe the better rumor to spread would've been something about Bucky being her bodyguard. She snorted at the thought.

The stage assistant called for them and they took their places on plush couches. Studio lights burned bright overhead. Her clipboard was balanced on her lap, more for comfort than actual function at this point. She sat between Walker and Bucky, their knees almost brushing, and ignored the way her stomach twisted. Probably just nerves. Or the second latte she'd downed on the drive over.

The host's voice rang out, fake-cheerful and polished

And just like that, they were live.

"Now this is a room full of personalities." he said brightly, "The Thunderbolts—our favorite redeemed hero's."

A wave of polite laugher. Alexi gave an exaggerated wink. Yelena pushed her sunglasses down an inch to look directly into the camera. Everyone greeted the audience's presence in their own ways.

The interview started off jovial and even a little fun, Mel's hopes were soaring. She hadn't had to talk yet, the audience was being thoroughly entertained by a story the team was sharing about a mishap on one of the missions. She chuckled at one of Alexi's remarks when the host turned his beaming smile on her.

"So, Melissa-Mel! Can I call you Mel?—you're the only non-super in a room of assassins and enhanced chaos, it seems. What's that like?"

Mel smiled on instinct. "Exhausting. Loud. Occasionally life-threatening."

Laughter. The host nodded, eating it up. "And yet you're always in the thick of it. Mission briefings, side by side with Barnes, coordinating the team. You've really made yourself...seen."

Mel nodded politely, but the host didn't stop there. "Last night's dinner for example, that black dress?" He let out a low whistle that had the audience snickering. "Damn. Let's just say if I were Barnes, I wouldn't have been thinking about the entree on the plate if you know what I mean."

The crowd whooped and laughed. Paparazzi photos from last night showed on the big screen above them. Mel smiled but her shoulders stiffened ever so slightly. Bucky's expression didn't shift, but he blinked slowly, jaw tightening.

"Thank you." Mel said, polite and clipped. "Though I think we were all mostly focused on making sure Alexi didn't order another round."

Alexi raised both hands like he was proud of the accusation.

The host chuckled. "So you're telling me you didn't notice your hot date, Sergeant Barnes?" He dragged out the rank with mock formality.

Bucky glanced toward Mel, then back at the host, carefully measured. "I noticed she always handles herself with class. Doesn't need a dress for that."

The audience gave a collective "aww."

Mel's lips twitched. She stared straight ahead, not daring to look at him.

The host, pleased with himself, leaned into the punch. "So is the internet right? Are you two the next great super-couple? A simple assistant and a hero, it's not conventional but, #Melucky is practically a brand at this point."

Mel tried not to let her frustration show, she opened her mouth, but Bucky spoke first, calm and practiced. "We're just trying to do the right thing and make the world a safer place. If something else develops along the way, that's alright too."

A ripple of more "awws' and laugher. Mel nodded along, she didn't need to fake the blush rising to her cheeks. She set a mental reminder to thank him after this for carrying the moment.

Once the lights dimmed and the team was ushered offstage, assistants and stage hands bustled around the group, taking off mic-packs. The rush of movement only started to slow once they were led back toward the dressing rooms.

Mel was already grabbing her things, moving with quick practiced precision. "Alright," she said. "Let's go. We're done here."

Ava glanced at her, hesitated. "You alright?"

"I'm good," Mel replied smoothly, forcing a grin. "Ready for that lunch I promised you."

Yelena opened her mouth like she might argue, then seemed to read something in Mel's expression and simply nodded.

As the others filed out, Bucky lingered.

"Mel,"

Before he could get a word in, an assistant appeared in the doorway. "Ms.Gold?"

Her gaze darted up from where she crouched, trying to gather her things back into her purse. "Yes?"

"You're requested in Studio Three before you leave."

Puzzled, Mel gave Bucky a quick, reassuring look before following the assistant. She led her to an office tucked out of the way in the back. Mel had been expecting contracts, maybe a scheduling note. What she hadn't expected was the host from earlier, lounging in a desk chair as the assistant scurried out the way she came.

"What is this?" Mel asked before she could stop herself.

The man chuckled and smiled too easily. "I just wanted to apologize for my behavior on the show today. I can get a little carried away on set."

Mel grimaced, but nodded. "It happens."

He seemed pleased with that answer. "I just wanted to give my two cents before you left," he smirked scratching the back of his neck. "If you're ever looking for a step up in the industry, you have my personal contact."

Her stomach plummeted, her brain short-circuited. "What?"

"You know, I figured, if Barnes doesn't work out for you, you'll always have a leg up here." He leaned back in his chair, his hands resting on his thighs.

She wanted to vomit. She wanted to scream. Her face remained stoic, her words, sharp. "Sergeant Barnes and I are in a committed relationship" and for good measure she let a fraction of her frustration show, "you're lucky if I never tell him about this conversation."

That seemed to shut him up but an eerie smile remained on his lips, like he knew something she didn't. Like he thought she'd be back. She didn't wait to see what else he'd say. She turned on her heel and walked—fast, humiliated, furious, sick.

She barely remembered the hallway, the walls, the sharp studio lights. Everything blurred except the growing thrum in her ears and the sudden cold that crept up her neck.

She was incredible at handling scandals, she prided herself in how she could spin a story and diffuse the public. But those conflicts had never been tied directly to herself. She'd never had to put out a fire on her own person, and now more than ever it seemed every time she succeeded, another little fire sparked somewhere else.

How dare he? How dare he question her credentials?—the work it took her to get to this point in her career? It certainly didn't come from sleeping around and she would be damned if her career suffered because of that ballsack of a man.

Her chest burned with rage. All she could think was, not here, not now, not where cameras could still be hiding.

She'd almost made it the main exit when a hand caught her arm.

"Mel."

She whipped around at the contact, eyes wild and bright with unshed tears, with fury that wasn't entirely her own.

Bucky stood there, brows knit together in worry. His hand immediately dropped from her arm, as though realizing too late that she was bristling like a live wire.

"What happened?"

Shit. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip to keep it from wobbling. She shook her head, not trusting her voice.

"Mel." His voice dropped low, gentler. He took a half step closer, tilting his head to catch her eyes. "Talk to me."

Her jaw clenched. She stared at a spot over his shoulder. Anything but his face. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not."

Her breath hitched. And maybe that was it, the thing that broke her.

Because she wasn't. She was tired, and humiliated, and angry in a way that had nowhere safe to land. Her fists balled at her sides. "Later, please just...Let's go."

He nodded without hesitation. Didn't press again, kept close without hovering, and Mel—without meaning to—let herself lean a little closer as they walked, just until the fire dimmed.

———————
Thunderbolts HQ - Later that Night
Mel
———————
After the show they'd picked up takeout, and Mel had gone to her room. She hated to think of it as hiding but she needed the space. She changed into pajamas and put her phone on silent even though it would only be brimming with too many notifications once she turned it back on. She'd taken the evening to recuperate and try not to fester.

Later that evening, Mel found Bucky on the top floor balcony, his back to her. The cool night air brushed past her face as she approached.

"Hey." He spoke, his voice low and rough.

She braced her forearms on the railing beside him, looking out over the city. "Hey."

The two of them remained silent a moment, as if trying to scope out the other first. Finally, Bucky cleared his throat.

"I don't know what happened back there, but um," He swallowed. "I just want you to know that you're not alone, I know that sounds corny, but..." He trailed off.

She looked at him. Scanning the tension in his shoulders and jaw. She thought back to what she'd read about the Winter Soldier Project, how he'd had to do anything his captors ordered of him, against his will. Her heart sank further at where her thoughts were leading. If anyone would believe her, understand her in this moment, it would be Bucky.

There was another long pause before she spoke. "He cornered me, said some things."

From the corner of her eye she could see his gaze flick to her face. She could feel the worry radiating off him.

"What kinds of things?" He asked carefully. Not pushing, but not looking away either.

Mel let out a breath through her nose, folding her arms tighter against the railing "Well you already know what he said on air. Back in his office he basically offered up his dick as a promotional tool in case things didn't work out with you." Her voice turned bitter as if just saying it was a curse.

She forced a small laugh. "I told him we're in a committed relationship and that he's lucky if I don't tell you, but here I am."

Bucky's jaw clenched. Hard. His metal hand flexed once against the railing. "Should've told me earlier," he muttered, "I could've said something or backed you up."

"I didn't want to make it worse." Mel replied. "Didn't want to give him the satisfaction of bringing in backup for his stupid remarks."

She shifted, cool metal biting into her skin as she leaned into her elbows. "I can handle people being weird online. I can handle Valentina, and I thought I could handle fake-dating for the sake of optics, but this?" She shook her head. "This felt different. Like he saw me as...as something he could take just because of a dress or someone I've been photographed beside a few times."

Bucky was quiet for a long time. Then, slowly. "It's not your fault. Any of it."

"I know." she said, too quickly, but her voice caught at the end.

Bucky nodded slowly. "I know what it's like to be looked at like...you're not a person. Something people want or think they have a right to use."

Mel looked down, swallowing hard. His words settled between them like a thread, stretched taut but careful.

When she looked back up at him, his eyes looked glossier than usual and they were no longer on her. Instead, they were fixed on the skyline.

"It's not your fault either."

His gaze flicked quickly back to hers, taken aback. He swallowed hard and nodded. After a moment he spoke up again.

"I'm glad you're here Mel."

She began to tear up again, "I'm okay." blinking quickly she huffed a laugh, "I mean—getting there."

"I know," he said, a faint smile on his lips. "You're one of the strongest people I've ever met."

She smiled faintly, eyes still wet. "That's saying something coming from a guy that's lived through a war and social media."

That got a real laugh out of him. Low, a little rough around the edges. They both smiled, and the moment loosened just slightly.

"Thank you for saying all that." Mel said. "Really, you didn't have to."

"I wanted to."

There was another silence, lighter now. The kind that only came when everything had been said and laid out on the table. Bucky looked down at her and maybe it was the emotional hangover, but she reached out and hugged him.

He froze.

Shit.

She moved to pull away, sheer embarrassment hitting her like a truck, when he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer.

His chest was warm and firm beneath her cheek, his arms a welcomed and grounding weight on her back.

"When did you get so sappy?" She mumbled in his hold.

He huffed a soft breath, the kind that could almost pass as a laugh. "Don't get used to it."

Notes:

summary: When Mel and the team are doing a live interview, the host makes some unsavory comments about Mel and Bucky's relationship and after the show tries to make a pass at her. Back at the tower Bucky opens up about his own trauma and they have a sweet moment.

Chapter 8: Formidable

Thunderbolts HQ
Mel
———————
Despite her newfound "fame"—if you could even call it that, Mel's real job hadn't waited for her to catch her breath. After the interview, the dinner, and everything in between, her workload had doubled.

She sat cross-legged on her office couch, hair tangled, an oversized Thunderbolts hoodie had become her new work uniform. Three empty cups of coffee already lined up on the floor beneath her like fallen soldiers. Her eyes were locked onto her laptop screen, typing so fast that her fingers were a blur across the keys.

She didn't notice the door open.

Or the two shadows creeping up behind her.

"Are you alive in here?" Yelena said with a laugh, leaning over her shoulder.

Mel startled so hard she nearly launched her laptop across the room. "Jesus Christ! Can you knock?!"

"We did." Ava raised an eyebrow. "Twice."

"Then we gave up and broke in." Yelena added, already grabbing one of Mel's coffee cups. "Is this your third?"

"Um, third. Maybe fourth. I'm not counting."

"That explains all this." Ava gestured vaguely at Mel's state. "You've been holed up in here since yesterday."

"I'm working." Mel insisted. "Somebody's gotta deal with the fallout of this mess. And the next mess that'll probably happen within the next twelve hours because Alexi's been radio silent and I swear I saw Valentina sniffing around the briefing room again—"

"Nope," Yelena said snatching the laptop from Mel's lap and closing it with a snap. "Not today."

Mel blinked at her. "Hey—!"

"You're getting out of this building," Yelena declared. "Touching grass, experiencing sunlight, breathing air that hasn't passed through ventilation filters."

"That sounds...ominous."

"It's a rescue mission," Ava said dryly. "You're being rescued from your to-do list, and your rapidly deteriorating posture."

Before Mel could protest she was being dragged to her room while Yelena shouted, "Get dressed! You have ten minutes or I'm picking your outfit and I will make it embarrassing!"

Downtown Manhattan
Mel
———————
The city was humid, loud, and aggressively full of people, just the way Mel remembered it. She hadn't had a real day off since...she actually didn't know. But now she was being herded through stores by two threatening women who were looking at overpriced purses.

They hit up thrift stores and designer outlets in equal measure. Yelena found some sleek sunglasses which she used to make aggressive eye contact with anyone who looked at them for too long. Ava quietly judged everything she touched. Mel tried not to melt into the floor when she caught someone whispering. "Isn't that the thunderbolts girl?" At Sephora.

"You need to own it more." Yelena said, watching Mel awkwardly avoid eye contact with the fans. "You're basically famous now."

"You're one to talk, it took me forever to get you out in the public eye." Mel shot back. "Also please don't say that, this whole thing is temporary."

"You are famous," Ava said mildly, "just not in the way you expected."

They paused for iced drinks, and they forbade Mel from getting anything caffeinated. Together they sat on a bench in the sun, shopping bags piled at their feet. It was the first time in days Mel had actually felt like she was breathing.

Yelena poked her straw toward her. "So, you and Bucky..."

Mel gave her a sidelong glance. "What about me and Bucky?"

She shrugged with a knowing smirk on her lips. "You two are getting pretty close."

Mel rolled her eyes at the woman. "Stop that, you're not gonna make this something it isn't."

Ava tilted her head. "I think it's already become a something."

Mel gave them both a deadpan look. "Well then our acting skills must be good enough to fool the both of you."

"Sure sure." Yelena drawled out, taking a sip from her straw. "So, when are you two gonna go on that one-on-one we planned?"

Mel ignored her smug look and rolled her eyes tiredly. "I haven't made reservations anywhere, I was thinking coffee? I don't know."

Ava nodded encouragingly. "Coffee's good! That's public enough but also cozy."

Yelena shrugged. "I was thinking something like a rooftop dinner, under the moonlight. But sure, coffee works too."

Mel snorted into her drink. "I didn't peg you for the romance type."

Yelena gave a mock bow from the bench. "I try."

They all laughed then, the kind that comes easy with sunshine and the illusion that for once, there wasn't a crisis waiting on the other end of her notifications. Mel leaned back, eyes half-closed, listening to the buzz of the city. It felts good to sit still. To be just...Mel, and not the Thunderbolts' PR lady—or whatever her job title was nowadays.

Thunderbolts HQ
Mel
———————
Back at the tower, the three of them unloaded their shopping haul in the living area. Tissue paper, bags, and receipts littered the carpet.

"It looks like Christmas morning in here." Mel blew out a breath as she picked up her trash.

They all looked over their mess, Ava put her hands on her hips. "You know what would make this day even better? Wine!"

Yelena cheered and Mel laughed shaking her head. "You all know what I become when wine hits my system."

"It's just us!" Ava convinced. "C'mon today is about letting go, and you, out of everyone needs that the most."

Mel couldn't help but smile "Touché. I'll get the bottle and some glasses."

The other two cheered victoriously and exclaimed something about "Turning her over to the dark side." Grinning to herself, Mel made her way to the kitchen.

She rounded the corner and paused. Bucky was already there, standing at the stove in a t-shirt and sweats, stirring something in a small saucepan. He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of her footsteps.

"Hey," he greeted, soft and a little surprised.

"Hey." She echoed, slowing her steps.

"Thought I was the only one scrounging for a late dinner," he said, giving the sauce a final stir before clicking the burner off. "Judging by the shopping bags exploding in the living room, I'm guessing you survived the girl's day."

She smirked. "Just barely, and how'd you know about the girls day?"

He wiped his hands on a dish towel. "I was going to check on you, they intercepted me and declared you under their protection."

She fought the rising blush to her cheeks. "So I should blame you as well?"

A faint smile crossed his lips. "Did you have fun at least?"

"Yeah...I did." She nodded, a silence stretched out between them. She grabbed the wine bottle on the counter and reached for the high cupboard where they kept the glasses. Wordlessly, Bucky reached over and grabbed them for her.

"Oh, thanks." She hesitated, looking at the wine bottle and glasses in her arms. "You doing anything tonight? We were gonna put on a movie or something. You can join if you'd like."

Bucky looked at her for a beat longer than expected, then gave a half-smile. "Yeah. Yeah, that sounds nice."

Mel tried not to make a big deal out of it, nodding like it was casual and not secretly making her stomach flip. "Cool, well, I'm brining wine and you bring...whatever mystery food that is."

"Spaghetti, dont judge me."

"Wouldn't dare."

———————

The living room lights were dimmed. Yelena had taken over the remote, Ava curled up with a throw blanket, and Bob decided to join them. Mel sat between the girls with her legs tucked under her, wine in one hand, popcorn in the other. Bucky sat on the far end of the couch, arms crossed but relaxed, a faint grin on his lips as the terrible romance movie started playing. Something about vampires and werewolves.

About halfway through the movie, just as Yelena started heckling the CGI and Ava deadpanned a perfectly timed critique, Mel's phone buzzed against the coffee table.

She would've ignored it, tonight wasn't about work, but something made her pick it up and the name on the preview made her blood freeze.

Her pleased expression faded, replaced by something quiet and unreadable.

Yelena noticed first, leaning over slightly. "What's wrong with your face?"

Mel didn't answer immediately.

Ava leaned in from her blanket cocoon, brow arching. "Mel?"

"It's nothing," she said a little too fast. "Just spam."

Yelena snorted. "You don't make that face at a spam." She extended her palm toward Mel. "Hand it over."

"I'm not—"

Yelena's icy eyes met Mel's.

Mel sighed, defeated, and passed over the phone.

Yelena lit up, a mischievous smirk on her lips. "Well, well, well. Who's Amir, Melissa?"

Mel gave her a withering glare. "Ew don't call me that. And he's no one. Just some guy from college."

That of course, only made Ava reach for the phone like it was it top secret evidence. She plucked it from Yelena's hand and read aloud with delighted dramatics:

"Hey, I saw you on TV...wild seeing your face again. Would be nice to catch up sometime, if you're free."

Ava's mouth dropped open in mock shock. "Oh my god. It's an ex!"

"It's nothing." Mel insisted, already regretting everything.

"Doesn't sound like nothing," Yelena said, wiggling her brows. "So what did he do?"

Mel let her head fall onto the back of the couch. They weren't going to let up until she gave them something. "We dated for two years in college, he cheated, I dumped him. Boring. Over. End of story."

"Damn, fuck you Amir." Yelena exclaimed to the phone as if it would send the vibe to him.

"That's fucked up." Ava agreed.

Mel nodded. "Yup, Senior year, finals week, classic."

A gruff voice spoke up from the end of the couch. "I'm sorry—during finals week?"

Yelena snorted. "You wanna join girl talk Barnes?"

He gave her an unimpressed look before looking back to Mel expectantly. Suddenly it felt as though she were standing under a too-bright spotlight. She glanced away. "Yup, guess it was too much to ask that he wait until after I turned in his final paper."

Ava blinked. "You wrote his final paper?"

Mel laughed with a nod. "And his final presentation for another class. I was...in love."

Yelena let out a loud dramatic sigh and took a sip of her wine. "Men do not deserve rights."

"Nope." Ava agreed, following suit.

Mel gave a quiet shrug, like the story didn't sting anymore, even though it kind of still did.

Bucky was still looking at her, his mouth slightly agape. Finally, he said. "He cheated on you?"

The way he said it made her pause, like the concept itself was offensive, like it genuinely didn't compute.

Mel gave a weak laugh. "Yeah shocker right? I was a real catch—high-functioning anxiety, late-bloomer, and an offensive need to win class debates."

"I think the word is formidable." Bucky said it so casual it almost slipped past her.

Almost.

Mel blinked.

Ava raised a brow between them, but said nothing. Yelena, for once, stayed quiet too.

The room held silence just long enough to notice it, then the movie reached an intense scene and started blaring again.

Her phone buzzed again. She blocked the number.

The girls didn't push, which she appreciated. Instead, Yelena declared the movie to be the "worst cinematic experience since Cats" and flung a pillow at the screen. Ava defended the film saying it was "camp." Bob snored softly from his place in the armchair.

Eventually, one by one, they peeled themselves away and gave their sleepy goodnights. Ava squeezed Mel's shoulder as she passed and Yelena leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Still a catch by the way."

Mel smiled, a little drowsy now, wine glass forgotten. She didn't remember closing her eyes.

And then—

"Mel?"

She blinked awake, groggy and disoriented. The TV glowing faintly with the Netflix "Are you still watching?" screen, and Bucky stood over her, one hand gently braced on the back of the couch.

She sat up too fast, startling. "What—?"

Her foot caught in the blanket, and her balance tilted just enough that she toppled right onto Bucky's chest. His hands caught her instinctively—one on her elbow, the other, lightly bracing her waist.

They both froze.

Her face was too close to his, far too close. Close enough to notice the subtle clench of his stubbled jaw and the way his breath caught just slightly, like he didn't know what to do with this moment.

"Sorry." She blurted, using his hard chest as leverage to push herself back up. "Damn blankets."

He blinked up at her, hands still hovering again like he wasn't sure whether to steady her again or back off entirely. "It's alright."

She let out a breath, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Guess I was really out of it. Oh god, what time is it?"

"Late." He said quietly. "Everyone else went to bed. I was gonna let you sleep but I figured you'd rather wake up in a bed than with neck pain and popcorn in your hair."

She blinked, reaching up self consciously. "Do I actually have popcorn in my hair?"

He gave a small amused shrug. "One piece, battle casualty."

She chuckled, soft and sleepy. She glanced toward the hallway, then back at him. "You staying up?"

"Maybe a little bit," he said. "Hard to sleep lately."

She nodded. "If you get bored, I've got a thrilling backlog of emails I'm pretending don't exist."

"I'll pass." He said with a smirk. "But thanks."

There was a beat of silence, comfortable like it usually is with him.

"Goodnight Barnes." She said finally, voice quieter than usual.

"Night, Gold."

Chapter 9: Just A Dream

Thunderbolts HQ
Mel
———————
The lights were dim and golden, catching faint halos in the room around her. She wasn't quite sure where they were. Somewhere quiet, somewhere safe. The kind of quiet that settles under your skin.

She was standing close to him. Too close.

Bucky's eyes were darker in this light, softer around the edges. There was no sarcasm in his expression, no teasing quirk of his mouth. Just that steady gaze, looking at her like he already knew something she hadn't figured out yet.

His fingers brushed her wrist. Barely there.

"Mel," he said, voice low and quiet, like a secret.

And god the way he said it. Not her last name, not a tired sigh from across a meeting table. This was different. Like her name had weight. Like he was pleading.

She didn't move away.

His hand shifted, trailing gently up her arm. She felt everything—warmth, steadiness, the way her breath caught in her throat like her body was suddenly aware of how close he was.

He leaned in, just slightly. She didn't pull back. If anything, she tilted forward, drawn in by some gravitational pull that had nothing to do with logic and everything to do with the way he was looking at her.

"Do you ever think about it?" He asked, voice brushing her ear now.

"About what?" She breathed.

HIs lips curved, barely there. "This."

And then—

She gasped awake.

Her heart was pounding. The room was dark, her sheets tangled around her legs, hair a mess against the pillow. She blinked, chest rising and falling like she'd run a marathon.

She reached for her phone—6:03 AM. No missed called. No texts.

Just a dream.

Just a dream...

Mel groaned and dragged her hands over her face.

"Shit."

Thunderbolts HQ - Later that morning
Mel
———————
The rest of the tower had started to stir by the time was done getting ready. She padded into the kitchen, still foggy, hair half pulled back into a claw clip.

Yelena was sitting at the counter eating one of the pancakes Alexi had happily made and burnt. Ava was scrolling on her phone, and Bob waved from where he sat in the armchair from the living room.

"Morning sunshine," Ava said once she pulled her eyes away from her screen. "You look terrible."

"Gee thanks." Mel muttered, reaching for coffee.

She wasn't about to explain the very real panic she felt after waking up from a weirdly vivid almost-kiss with her fake boyfriend.

Nope. Definitely not bringing that up.

"How many pancakes for you?" Alexi turned to her waving the spatula like a wand.

Mel grimaced. "I'm okay, thank you though."

Then, Bucky walked into the kitchen, hair damp from a shower, sleeves pushed up to reveal his vibranium arm, shirt a little too well-fitted, and Mel nearly dropped her mug.

She was so fucked.

"Looks like you need pancakes. I'll make you some." Alexi decided and turned back to the smoking stovetop.

Mel opened her mouth to protest again, but Bucky had already grabbed her mug and was filling it beside her. He glanced down at her, brows pulling slightly.

"You good?" He asked, voice still raspy from sleep.

Mel nearly short-circuited. The dream came rushing back in full HD. His voice in her ear.

Focus Melissa.

"Yeah!" she said too quickly. "Yeah—how are you?" She cringed at herself internally.

"...Good."

Yelena and Ava exchanged a look behind her.

Bucky didn't seem convinced. He studied her for a moment longer, then wordlessly slid the full coffee mug toward her. Mel muttered a thanks and sipped it like it might hide the fact that her entire soul had been thrown off-balance.

He leaned against the counter near her, not too close but closer than he needed to be, and said, "You sure? You seem...I dont know. Tired."

"Didn't sleep great," she muttered, taking another sip.

"Nightmares?" He asked gently.

"Um," she blinked, "sort of."

Yelena's head tilted slightly. Her eyes narrowed with quiet curiosity.

Before Mel could dig herself into a deeper hole, Alexi plopped a steaming pile of pancakes on a plate with a wide grin. "For strength!" He announced.

Bucky accepted his plate and gave Mel a nod before moving to sit in the living room with Bob. Ava followed as they switched on a show they'd been binging.

Yelena remained behind. Watching.

Mel leaned further back into the counter behind her, trying to avoid eye contact.

"So," Yelena began, casually biting into the edge of her pancake. "You look like someone who saw a ghost. Or, I don't know...had a very interesting dream."

Mel froze.

Yelena smirked, victorious.

Mel stared in quiet shock.

Yelena braced her arms on the counter, eyes glittering. "Oh my god. You did! You had a spicy dream!"

"Shut up!" Mel whispered urgently, circling the island to sit beside her, like the proximity might somehow mute Yelena's chaos.

"The only question is...who was it about?" Yelena wiggled her brows, only making Mel's scowl deepen. "Just kidding, I already know."

Mel looked at her incredulously. "Oh you do, do you?"

"Yup. Name starts with a B, ends with a Y." She sang out.

Mel's face turned crimson. "Keep your voice down!"

"Please, The only people in this room are either not listening or emotionally illiterate."

"Yelena—"

"So! was it shirtless Bucky? Mission Bucky? What level of spice are we talking—"

"Shut up." Mel hissed again, face on fire now.

Yelena leaned back, extremely pleased with herself. "You're in so much trouble."

Mel groaned and put her head in her hands.

"This is great" Alexi's voice startled Mel up, her eyes going wide. "I told you, the fake dating never stays fake for long."

"Oh my god no." Mel groaned. "Alexi please, it's not what you think."

He waved the spatula at her again. "Dont worry, I'm the best secret keeper out of everyone."

At that, both Yelena and Mel raised a brow.

The ding of the arriving elevator was the only warning before Val came swooping in the room. That familiar wolfish grin seemed bigger today, only serving as another reminder of Mel's bad luck.

Slapping a gossip magazine onto the counter in front of them. Mel and Bucky were pictured together after the interview, seemingly gazing into each other's eyes, and above it a big headline read: "Mel and Bucky confirmed!"

Val clasped her hands together triumphantly. "Well news is out! No more rumors, no more dancing around the subject. You and Bucky are officially official!"

By then the others had filed into the kitchen to gather around the magazine, Bucky of course standing directly over her shoulder.

She took a deep breath before scooting the picture closer. Mel was only surprised it took this long after the interview for that scummy host to use what she'd said in his office: "Bucky and I are in a committed relationship."

The words rang in her head, a reminder of that day. She shook it off. At least the man played into their charade, whether he believed it or not.

The picture wasn't the worst, but definitely not the most flattering. Looking closely she could see her eyes brimming with unshed tears, a pleading look over her features. Bucky's brows were drawn together, his hand reaching out to steady her.

To any unsuspecting individual, one could conclude the two were in the midst of a confession, not talking the other down from a panic attack.

Wordlessly, Mel flipped it open to the article page.

"Mel Gold proudly confirms relationship in backstage confrontation." She read aloud.

She tried to hide her shock when Bucky placed a hand on her shoulder. "At least they didn't include the part about you threatening him."

She nodded refusing to make eye contact, voice rising in pitch. "Yeah, this is good. They did the work for us."

Her shoulder felt too light when he let go.

Val's face turned serious in a flash. "You threatened a TV host?"

"I-maybe." Mel winced.

"It was deserved." Bucky added.

Pinching the bridge between her eyes Val quickly composed herself. "Alright no more funny business, you two need a solid plan."

Yelena scoffed. "We already made a plan for them."

"I said a solid plan." Val retorted sweetly and conjured a folder seemingly out of nowhere. "You're a public couple now, officially. The media storm is building, and if we don't give them something consistent, they'll make it themselves, or worse. They'll start digging."

Mel thought for a moment. Everything she'd been taught about crisis management and public relations told her Val was right. They needed to tell the public what to think before they start assuming. She just hated to admit it. With a sigh, she nodded.

"So what do we do?" Bucky cut in.

Val's sharp eyes flicked to his. "Photo ops, regular social media posts, a few interviews, maybe a charity event, if we can make it look natural."

Clicking through her tablet, Val continued. "We'll do a soft roll out first as we've been doing. A few more casual paparazzi shots, then a feature in one of the more respectable online outlets. Maybe that Vogue interview slot we were offered months ago."

"That was for the team." Mel objected.

"And now it's for the loving couple." Val grinned.

"No objections here." Ava piped in, not wanting to be on TV in the first place.

Mel gave her a look before turning back to Val. "Fine."

Val leaned in a bit closer, giving the illusion of privacy, although with the team surrounded them it was hardly such. "Don't forget why you agreed to this Melissa."

Her spine straightened. Of course. How could she forget?

Just as quickly as Val had shifted from carefree to threatening, she threw back on her signature smile. "All right then! Since we're all on the same page we can move forward. speaking of—Mel, reach out and schedule the interview for tomorrow evening."

Mel hardly had the energy to act surprised. "Right." She tried not to grimace as she thought about everything else she'd have to cancel and move around because of it.

With that, Val left, always leaving destruction in her wake.

"Alright, well if anyone needs me, I'll be in my office." Mel mumbled out, leaving before anyone could say anything.

Thunderbolts HQ - Mel's office
Mel
———————
She'd finally balanced out the schedule for the next two weeks. It only took a migraine blooming behind her temples and a few breaks to lay her head down on her desk. Golden light from the evening sun shone in through the floor to ceiling windows. She savored the momentary peace. Sitting back with a sigh, she let her eyes close.

A creak from across the room had them snapping back open with a jolt.

"Hey." Bucky was in the doorway, a drink carrier in hand and two cups of what seemed to be coffee. "Thought you could use some backup."

She sat up, quickly smoothing down her shirt and hair as he crossed the room. "Thanks. I-uh actually just finished."

Handing her one of the cups he grimaced. "I would've brought you something earlier but I got the feeling you needed space."

"Something like that." She offered a small smile before taking a sip.

He watched her. "So, not to add more onto your plate, but should we prepare for this interview tomorrow?"

She tried not to throw her head back and scream. Instead another long sigh escaped her. "Yeah we probably should. They're gonna grill us for details we haven't come up with yet."

He brought around a chair to her side of the desk, legs spreading slightly as he settled in like he had no intention of leaving anytime soon. He looked tired, but calm. Like this—being here with her—wasn't a burden.

Mel tapped her fingers against the coffee cup. "Okay. Let's think like a nosy host. First question: where did we meet?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Technically? At that gala I was forced to attend."

She snorted. "Romantic."

"Well, I didn't want to be there. But I noticed you right away." He said it casually, like it wasn't a dagger straight to the center of her chest.

Mel blinked. "Really?"

He nodded once. "Well initially I was supposed to get you on my side to bring down Val, guess I can't say that on TV though."

Oh right

"But you weren't what I expected, I'll tell you that." He shook his head.

Oh?

"What do you mean?" She leaned forward slightly.

He shifted in his seat. "I didn't expect someone involved with Val to be so...humane, and funny."

She bit back a smile. "What a charmer."

His lips quirked, just slightly.

She opened her notes app, starting a fresh doc. "Alright. Met during a gala.Should we say it was love at first sight, or...more of a slow burn?"

Bucky tilted his head, mock thoughtful. "For you? Slow burn. For me? Instant.

Her fingers froze on the keys. He didn't laugh after saying it. Just sipped his coffee like it was the truth.

"...Okay," she cleared her throat. "So, how long have we secretly been together?"

He shrugged. "Three months sounds plausible. Not too short. Not too long."

"Three months," she echoed, typing it in. "Which means we...what? Snuck around? Secret late night rendezvous at our apartments?"

"You say that like it's a bad thing." He smirked a little.

Jesus Christ.

She gave him a look, but her ears were already warm.

"Okay fine," she muttered. "Next question: who made the first move?"

Bucky's answer was immediate. "You."

Her jaw dropped. "Excuse me?!"

"You did," he said, not backing down. "You called me first, that counts."

"Yeah well you're the one that gave me your number on a business card!"

He smirked. This side of him clearly enjoyed getting under her skin. Her heart picked up in pace.

"Fine. So I made the first move. What about...pet names? Do we do that?"

Bucky grimaced. "Absolutely not."

"Oh thank god." She laughed, genuine this time. "The last thing I need is you calling me doll in public."

His mouth twitched. "Back in the day that used to be the thing."

"Shut up."

They fell into rhythm. Question, answer, joke, snide remark, soft silence. It felt oddly easy.

Until—

"What's your favorite thing about her?" Mel read from the list she'd found online. "This one's probably not necessary. We can skip it."

Bucky didn't answer right away.

She glanced up again, only to find him already watching her.

"...That you care so much," he said, quiet. "About everyone. Even when you try not to."

Mel's breath caught in her throat.

The moment stretched.

She cleared her throat and huffed a laugh. "We'll workshop that one."

"Sure," he said. But he didn't look away.

She glanced back down at her computer, desperate to break the weight of his stare. "Okay my turn."

Bucky leaned back in the chair, arms crossed like he was curious what she'd say, like this was some sort of game he was winning.

Mel looked around, stalling. "Favorite thing about him..." She paused, then tried to make her voice sound breezy, unaffected. "You're...weirdly gentle."

That caught him off guard. His brow furrowed. "Gentle."

She looked up at him, expression soft but guarded. "Not all the time. But when it counts. You listen. You don't push. And you always seem to know when someone's having a hard time."

He didn't say anything at first. His gaze dropped to his hands.

Shit Mel, way to go. You made it weird.

She shifted in her seat, flustered. "I mean—not always, you're also super annoying and cryptic."

"I'll take it," he said quietly, lips curving.

They sat in silence again as Mel looked for another question. Although, it didn't feel awkward, just...suspended. Like the kind of quiet that left you festering.

Mel exhaled. "Okay. Another big one—who said 'I love you' first?"

Bucky blinked. "You think they'll ask that?"

"If the host's feeling bold? Absolutely."

He gave a small snort. "Fine. You probably said it first."

Mel glared. "Why?!"

"Because you care so much, remember?" He teased. "Plus, you're the one who made the first move."

"Are you just making me carry this whole relationship?

"I bring coffee," he said, deadpan. "I'm carrying my weight."

Mel shook her head, amused despite herself. "Okay, you know what? Fine. In this fictional narrative, I said it first. But only because you were too emotionally constipated to say it back."

Bucky chuckled. "Alright sure."

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling now, they both were—real ones, easy and fun. The sun started to dip lower, casting long golden steaks across the office. Her migraine had faded without her even noticing.

For the first time since that morning, Mel didn't feel like she was drowning. He had a funny way of doing that to her.

Nope not thinking like that. Mel blushed despite herself.

Just before the moment stretched too far again, her phone rang. She glanced at the screen and groaned.

"Val?" Bucky guessed.

"Nope. My grandparents." She picked up the phone. "I gotta take this." She said apologetically but Bucky nodded, clearly not going anywhere.

Putting the call to her ear she threw on a cheerful tone. "Hey! Nani."

The voice on the other end was immediately so loud Bucky could hear it rom across the desk.

"Melissa beta! We saw the magazine! Why haven't you brought him home yet? Your Nana is upset!"

Mel winced, already rubbing her temples again. "It's not that serious—"

"This is the first boy you've found since Amir!"

Mel's face burned. Great, point out just how pathetic her love life is. Bucky tried to smother a laugh and failed.

"Who's that beta? Is that him?"

"No! Nope I'm all alone!" Mel rushes out giving Bucky a glare.

"Let me speak to him!"

Before Mel can diffuse the situation, Bucky holds his hand out.

She looks at him incredulously. "You dont want to, trust me."

"I can handle it." He says smirking. "Besides, they seem nice."

She shakes her head but hands the phone over anyways. "Your funeral."

Bucky puts the phone to his ear, casual as anything. "Hello?"

A beat of silence. Then: "It's you! Look at this voice, so deep! You sound like you do action movie trailers."

He blinks. "Thank you."

"So are you dating our Melissa?"

Bucky hesitates, meeting Mel's wide-eyed stare, as if asking for permission. Then, he leaned back in the chair and says smoothly, "I am."

God. She thought—that shouldn't be as hot as it was.

Mel let out a strangled noice and sank lower in her seat.

"Good! Finally someone serious. Not like that Amir boy with his weak handshake and weird hair. You have good shoulders. Are those real?"

Bucky coughed. "Um. Yeah, they're real."

"And do you like our Melissa? She is beautiful no?"

Mel face-plants into her hands. "Oh my god."

Bucky chuckles, eyes flicking back to her again, softer now. "Yeah, she's a catch."

Mel peeks up, eyes wide and stunned. He gives her a small shrug.

There's more excited yelling from the other end of the phone. "What a sweet boy! And how many children do you plan on having—?"

"Okay thats enough!" Mel cuts off, snatching the phone from a stunned Bucky's hands. "Okay-love-you-bye!" click.

Before she launch into a flustered apology, Bucky laughs—a real one.

"Don't laugh! That was horrible!" She drops her head onto her desk.

"They were great." He says, still grinning.

She lifts her head just enough to squint at him. "You're not allowed to tease me after all that."

"I'm not teasing you." He laughs. "If this fake relationship doesn't work out, I think I still want to meet your grandparents."

She stares at him disbelieving. "You're not allowed to be sweet either!"

He grins, unfazed by her frustration.

She huffs dramatically—but she's smiling—traitorously so.

Bucky rises from his chair, stretching slightly. "C'mon, if I can do that, we'll have no problem tomorrow."

"Sure." She mumbles, already half-melted into her seat. "Let's just hope everyone else is as easily fooled as my family."

He pauses at the door, glancing over his shoulder with that same easy smile she'd gotten to know lately. "Get some sleep Mel."

Then, he's gone.

Mel exhales slowly, staring at the space he left behind.

This was absolutely not going to help her dream problem.

Chapter 10: Rules

Pre-Interview
Mel
———————
They had just sat down in the car Val had called for them when Mel said it.

"I can't believe we forgot to make rules."

Bucky glanced at her, confused. "Rules?"

"For the fake dating," she said, like it was obvious. "We should make rules. Ground rules. To keep things from getting...weird."

He raised an eyebrow. "You mean weirder than talking to your grandmother about how many kids we'll have."

She shot him a look, face already burning. "You know what I mean smartass."

His smirk faltered into something else for a moment. "Okay, go on then. Let's hear these rules."

She turned in her seat to face him fully. "Alright, we already agreed no pet names—"

"Wholeheartedly." He cut in.

"—No staying over, no holding hands unless we're in public, and no kissing unless it's absolutely necessary."

He quirked a brow. "Necessary how?"

Her face flushed. "You know. Cameras, if Val forces it."

He nodded slowly. "Alright. Anything else?"

Mel hesitated thinking. "Kissing on the lips is the farthest we'll go."

There was a pause.

Bucky blinked. "What do you think we'll be doing?"

She went fire-truck-red. "I don't know! I just want to be clear!"

She was being clear. Clear with him. Clear with herself. Because if she didn't draw solid lines, she was going to trip over the unsaid ones every single time.

And god, she had it bad. He plagued her dreams again last night, and after waking up in a hot flash she'd come to the unfortunate conclusion that she liked him. A lot. In a quiet, steady, terrifying way that snuck up on her when she wasn't paying attention.

But that wasn't the agreement. It wasn't part of the plan. So she had to hold the line. Fake meant fake. Crushes meant nothing.

Stay strong Melissa

Bucky huffed a small laugh and looked out the window. "Right. Crystal clear."

She dropped her hands to her lap suddenly unsure. That didn't sound like a joke. It sounded...guarded.

"I don't mean to be an asshole about it." She said, gentler now. "It's just...you know, if we don't make things clear, it'll start to feel..." She couldn't even say it.

"Too real?" He said, still not looking at her, his posture tense.

Her voice was quiet. "Yeah, exactly."

A beat passed. His jaw ticked once. What she wouldn't give to know what he was thinking.

"Okay." His voice was lower now. "No feelings. Easy."

She didn't know why that sentence made her feel like she'd swallowed a rock.

She'd needed to say it, make the rules, form the boundaries.

So why did she suddenly feel worse?

Bucky leaned his head back against the window and closed his eyes, like the conversation was done.

Mel turned forward again, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

No real feelings. No crossing the line.

Easy

Inside Interview Venue
Mel
———————
In the dressing room Mel stared down at the garment bag laid across the vanity. Inside lay a gorgeous bodysuit with a plunging neckline, fitted slacks, heels, and jewelry to go along with it. On top attached was a note reading: "Don't screw this up. - Val"

"Lovely." Mel muttered.

After putting it on she'd stared at the ensemble for a full minute before face-timing Yelena and Ava. They wolf-whistled immediately.

She was quickly ushered to the interview set. A plush couch under warm lighting. It looked more like a living room than anything official. She settled down onto the cushions, staying still as assistants flitted around her, fixing her hair and touching up her makeup.

No sign of Bucky.

Nerves buzzed under her skin. She'd just have to hope this interview went smoother than the last.

A pretty woman approached Mel, camera in hand. "We just want to get some solo photos first for the promo, is that okay with you?"

"Uh-yeah sure." Mel replied, still looking around for any sign of Bucky as they posed her on the cushions, manually guiding her chin and limbs like a mannequin.

"Chin up—perfect. Look toward the corner—yes, just like that. Elbow back a little. No—other elbow. Good. Hold that" The photographer praised, snapping off photo after photo, pose after pose.

Mel tried her best to obey, even as her face began to ache from fake-smiling.

She could feel herself radiating awkwardness. She had no idea what to do with her hands. One was now propped up on the arm of the couch in what she could only assume was meant to look casual and sexy, but mostly looked like it belonged to someone else entirely.

She exhaled through her nose. Get through this and you're home free.

That's when she heard a door click open behind her and a low voice say, "Oh."

She startled slightly—just enough to ruin the current photo. The photographer looked up, about to scold but Mel was already turning.

"Sorry-didn't mean to interrupt."

Bucky stood awkwardly, two coffee cups in hand.

Suddenly, she felt the weight of all the makeup they'd put on her. Her pants fit too tight and her top felt ridiculously low. Did it look stupid? Is that why he was looking at her like that?

"We're just finishing up." The photographer said, clearly annoyed at the interruption but doing her best to stay polite.

Bucky hesitated before blinking and pulling his eyes away. "Right, sorry, I brought coffee."

"Thanks," Mel said, voice softer than intended. She cleared her throat. "We're doing, um...promo shots."

"Ah. Yeah. I can see that." He said, and that look passed over his face again, something unreadable. Warm, stunned, slightly dazed.

She frowned at his outfit. "They didn't make you put on a getup?"

Bucky glanced down at his button down shirt and dark jeans. "Nah, just told me to wear this, nothing too crazy."

Mel huffed out a breath. "Right."

Her arms crossed tighter over her chest. She could feel every inch of exposed skin, the bodysuit dipping lower than she was used to. The heels made her stand taller, too tall. She suddenly felt overdressed, like a decoy in her own body.

Then Bucky added quickly. "Not that yours is crazy—I mean you look..."

He trailed off, then gave a small breath of a laugh like he couldn't believe he was saying it out loud.

"You look good," he said, quieter this time. "That's all I meant."

Mel blinked. There was a flutter in her ribs.

"Thank you," she added finally.

He gave her a one-shouldered shrug, then held up the coffees like a peace offering. "I didn't get a weird order or anything, just what you had the other day. Thought you might want some backup."

She took it from him carefully, brushing his fingers for a second too long. "Thanks."

The photographer clapped once. Mel flinched. "Alright, lovebirds, we're ready for couples shots now. Let's reset."

"Couples photos?" Mel and Bucky questioned in unison.

The photographer's assistants were already adjusting the lights. "For the promo," she said breezily. "We'll just do a few, nothing too intense. Just cute, natural, intimate, you know."

Mel blinked but nodded anyways. She couldn't look too shellshocked at the idea, she was technically supposed to be dating the man. "Right of course! But what does that mean?"

The photographer smiled like that was adorable. "Let's start with something simple. You two will face each other, hold hands, and smile, easy!"

Easy my ass

Bucky raised his eyebrows at her as if to ask, are we really doing this? But he stood anyway, and waited for her to follow.

Mel took a breath and stepped up to meet him. He held his hands out for her like it was second nature.

She hesitated only a beat before slipping hers into his. His fingers were warm, steady, slightly calloused, and annoyingly gentle about it.

Focus.

"Great," the photographer praised. "Now look at each other and smile."

Mel tried. She really did. But the moment she met Bucky's eyes, something in her unraveled. He looked so serious. Brows furrowed in this faint, overdramatic concentration. She couldn't help it.

A snort escaped before she could stop it.

He blinked. "What?"

"You look so serious."

"I'm trying to take this seriously," he deadpanned. "This is my professional modeling face."

Mel burst into quiet laughter.

The photographer sighed. "Okay, let's loosen up. Less...statuesque. Try something more candid. Mel, reach up and fix his collar like you're fussing with him."

Mel gave Bucky a look. "May I?"

He gave a half-smile. "Be my guest."

Her fingers brushed the edge of his collar and she tried not to notice the subtle bob of his throat and their sudden proximity. His eyes didn't leave hers, and that flutter came back.

"How's that?" She murmured.

He nodded once. "Perfect."

"Oh that's cute" the photographer said absently, snapping away. "Hold that—Mel, laugh a little like he just told you something sweet."

"Well?" Mel arched a brow at him. "Say something sweet."

Bucky tilted his head, pretending to consider it. "You've got a smudge of makeup on your nose."

Mel smacked his chest lightly, trying not to laugh. "You're the worst."

He grinned. "You laughed, it worked."

Click. Click. Click.

The photographer made a pleased sound. "There we go. Let's try one where you're sitting, Mel. Back to his chest, his arm around you, like you're watching a movie."

Mel swallowed. Right. Just a casual movie night with her co-worker.

"Okay." she nodded quickly.

Bucky adjusted first, settling back onto the couch with practiced ease. He patted the space in front of him. "C'mon Gold."

God she hated how casual he could be about it.

She sat carefully, tension in every limb.

The moment his arm curled around her waist, she forgot how to hold her spine.

"You good?" He said quiet enough that only she could hear, his breath ghosting her ear.

And Goddamn it if it wasn't exactly like her dreams.

She dared a glance over her shoulder and found him looking down at her, not mockingly, not smugly, just soft. Gentle.

"Yup." She whispered, turning her eyes forward again.

"Perfect," the photographer said brightly. "Just a few more..."

Mel barely heard her.

Because Bucky was warm and solid behind her, his arm gently draped across her middle like it belonged there. Like this was normal, like she was normal for not wanting to move away.

"Alright," The photographer said, snapping another shot. "Final one I promise, let's go ahead and kiss for the camera."

Mel stiffened despite herself.

A half-second later, so did Bucky.

But neither of them said anything. Because they couldn't. Because a real couple wouldn't flinch, wouldn't hesitate. A real couple wouldn't both be mentally short-circuiting at the thought of a kiss.

Mel forced her voice to work. "A kiss?"

"Nothing dramatic," the photographer said breezy and oblivious. "Just a sweet one, a peck. You can take a second if you need."

Bucky shifted behind her. Slowly, like he didn't want to startle her. He gave her a look as if to say, "it's up to you."

She nodded, but it felt like her heart had dropped to her heels.

He murmured low enough no one else could hear. "Just following your lead."

Her breath hitched.

The photographer had already turned to adjust the lighting. Mel looked up at Bucky and gave the smallest shrug she could manage. We're already here, it said.

She managed to look to the photographer who had already set up the shot. "Okay, we're ready."

"Perfect!" The lady chirped. "On your cue."

Mel shifted on the couch to face him fully as he shifted closer.

And for a second. Just a second, they just looked at each other.

His hand lifted, brushing over her cheek like it was nothing. Like it wasn't causing her brain to overheat and fry. His fingers lingered at her jaw, and she tilted toward him without meaning to.

Her voice barely worked. "Okay."

"Okay." he echoed, voice low.

Then he leaned in, and she met him halfway.

It was soft. Careful. Barely there.

But it lit something under her skin, slow and aching.

His lips brushed hers once, warm and steady, and then it was over.

Click.

Mel's pulse was in her throat.

She pulled back a beat too late, blinking like she'd just been underwater. Bucky didn't move either, eyes flicking over her face as if to gauge her reaction.

"Beautiful." The photographer said brightly, already checking the frame. "One more for safety?"

Oh Jesus Christ.

Mel nodded, because she had to, because a real girlfriend wouldn't be stunned silent.

They kissed again. Still soft, still gentle.

And maybe it was her imagination, but she swore he hesitated just slightly before pulling away.

"You two are perfect!" The photographer finally put away her camera, wearing the triumphant grin of a woman that was certain her pictures would be front page. "Thanks you guys, the interview will start soon."

Right.

———————
The interview ended up going smoothly to Mel's surprise.

The questions they'd prepared together actually payed off. She didn't stumble, Bucky didn't look like he wanted to bolt, and no one brought up the gala or the livestream. The set was cozy enough that it didn't feel like a trap, and every time Mel started to blank or panic, she'd catch a glance from Bucky. Steady, calm, always quietly watching and somehow, that helped her breathe again.

By the time they were finished, she almost felt normal. They'd actually pulled it off.

As they rode back to the tower, she finally broke the silence. "Good job in there." She smiled lightly.

He huffed a laugh. "Yeah you too."

They settled back into silence. The kind that felt full. Like there were too many words caught in the space between them and neither of them wanted to pick the first one.

Mel stared out the window, watching the blur of the city lights. Her coffee had gone cold in her hands, but she didn't let go of it as she quietly mulled over the events of the day.

Beside her, Bucky sat motionless, gaze fixed ahead.

She wondered what he was thinking about. Was he thinking about the kiss like she was? Was he thinking about her? Mel cringed to herself. She sounded like a lovesick teenager.

Still.

"Can I ask you something?"

Bucky glanced her way, one brow raised.

She met his eyes and before she could think better of it, smirked. "Was that your first kiss since the Winter Soldier?"

There was a beat of stunned silence.

And then—

He laughed, dragging a hand down his face. "Jesus Mel."

She bit back a laugh. "What? It's a valid question."

He was still chuckling when he nodded, "I think so."

"Yeah?"

He grinned despite himself as shook his head at her in disbelief. "Remind me to never confide in you."

She smiled a little too wide. Her heart fluttering a little too fast.

No feelings. Easy.

Right?

Chapter 11: Circles of Trust

Thunderbolts HQ
Bucky
———————
Mel had all but vanished into her room the second they'd got back. Probably to avoid Yelena and Ava's inevitable interrogation. Those three had been glued together lately. Bucky didn't know whether to be relieved they'd found each other or worried for the rest of the tower.

Alexi and John were in the midst of a card game at the kitchen table.

"Look who's home!" Alexi boomed happily, "How was it?"

"It was good." Bucky replied absently. He opened up the fridge and grabbed a plate of leftovers. He had no energy to be cooking anything after the day he'd had. But of course, when he shut the door—

Yelena was there, leaning casually against the wall like she'd spawned there.

Bucky didn't flinch. "Yelena."

"Bucky." Her grin was too pleased for his liking.

He narrowed his eyes.

"I've got some information you might be interested in." She said with mock sweetness.

He fought the urge to groan aloud. Why was it the minute he tried to relax, something always got in his way. In this case, that obstacle was Yelena.

She didn't say anything right away, just tilted her head, studying him like she was deciding where to begin.

Bucky sighed and set his plate on the counter. "Out with it."

Behind them, Walker groaned. Sounded like he was losing.

Yelena stepped closer, lowering her voice but her tone remained positively gleeful. "Mel might've had a dream about you."

Bucky blinked. "What?"

"A dream," she repeated as if he were hard of hearing. "About you."

"I told you I was the best secret keeper!" Alexi interjected from across the room, somehow picking up the quiet exchange.

Yelena shot him a look as Bucky looked between the two, utterly confused. "What? Who else knows about this?"

"I didn't." Walker added flatly, not looking up from his cards. "But thanks for dragging me into it as always."

"Alexi just overheard Mel telling me, and then I told Ava, and now you all know. Circle of trust." Yelena clapped her hands once, satisfied.

"Great." Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose. "What...kind of dream?"

Yelena's grin widened. "Do you even have to ask?"

He stared at her. "Why would she tell you this?"

"Because I'm her good friend."

He deadpanned. "You interrogated her."

"She could hardly function that morning! I didn't have to interrogate her."

Bucky dragging a hand down his face.

Yelena leaned back on the counter, arms crossed smugly. "So. Just saying. You've been haunting her dreams. What are you gonna do with that information?"

"Absolutely nothing."

"Lame." She said, picking a piece off his plate and popping it into her mouth. "If someone told me Mel had been having dreams about me, I'd be asking 'what are we?'."

Bucky shot her a look. "You should be respecting her privacy."

"I'm just looking out for her." Yelena responded innocently.

He shook his head. This was fine. Mel dreaming about him didn't mean anything. People have weird dreams all the time. It wasn't like she liked the dream...Right?

God, he needed air.

Or a mission.

"I'm going to bed."

"Sweet dreams!" Yelena laughed.

 

Later That Night
Bucky
———————
Sleep didn't come easy.

Of course it didn't. Why would it?

Bucky had tried everything. Laid down, closed his eyes, melatonin, counted backwards from one hundred, twice. But his brain refused to shut off.

Not only was there a constant loop of the days events, but now there was that question. The one Yelena had planted in his head like a landmine

What had Mel dreamt of?

Why had Yelena been so smug about it? Why was he even thinking about it?

He knew why. Of course he knew why.

The dream was about Mel and himself, which meant Mel had thought about him. Even if it was unconscious.

Even if it was just...a dream.

He couldn't help but wonder what she'd seen in her unconscious. Was it a simple kiss that had her so out of sorts that morning? Or was is something...more?

He sighed, pressing the heel of his palm to his forehead.

This is why she made the rules. This was exactly why they needed them.

He had to remember why he'd agreed to this in the first place. He was only helping her keep her job. That's all this was.

Still, he kept replaying the sound of her voice when she asked 'Was that your first kiss since the Winter Soldier?'

The teasing in her tone. The flush in her cheeks. The way she smiled at him like she actually gave a damn.

And yeah, that was his first kiss since Hydra. It wasn't as terrifying as he'd thought it would be. No memories came flashing back, he didn't freak out, it was just...Mel

Bucky leaned back into his pillow and stared at the ceiling.

Maybe he was losing it. Maybe the team was rubbing off on him. Maybe he'd hit his head too hard on the last mission.

Or maybe he was just tired. Physically and emotionally.

With a sigh he closed his eyes once again.

Thunderbolts HQ - Next Day
Mel
———————
Mel carefully placed the claw clip in her hair and looked over her makeup in the mirror. Yelena and Ava lounged on her bed behind her, probably waiting for potential gossip.

"C'mon the interview will come out soon enough, might as well tell us some details." Ava pleaded.

Mel had managed to escape them last night when Bucky and her had gotten back, but she knew it was only a matter of time until this happened.

"What does it matter? It's all an act anyway, it's not like this is real gossip." Mel said, wiping some eyeliner out from under her eye.

"Which means it should be extra easy to share." Yelena replied gleefully.

Mel sighed finally turning to look at the two of them. "And," Mel added, "it also means it's nothing to freak out about." She gave them both a warning glare.

"We promise, now tell us." Ava sat up.

Mel shrugged and turned back to the mirror. "We just answered some questions, took some photos, and maybe kissed a little—that's all."

"YOU KISSED?!" The two women exclaimed in unison.

"It was a part of the photoshoot for the promo." Mel replied a little too fast.

There was a beat of stunned silence.

And then.

Yelena quirked a brow. "Okay but, like...was it good?"

Mel froze for half a second before reaching for her lip gloss. "I'm not answering that."

"Oh my god it was good." Ava answered for her.

Mel shook her head. "You both are completely unprofessional."

They laughed, and she didn't stop them. It felt good to have this. The teasing made things feel almost normal, no matter how annoying it could be, it was sort of...nice. Sisterly almost.

Until Ava perked up as if remembering something. "Well, Bucky seemed pretty flustered after Yelena told him about your dream."

Silence.

Mel dropped the gloss. "Wait. What?!"

Yelena blinked at Ava, who immediately looked like she wished she could rewind time.

"Oh no," Ava chuckled. "I thought you knew."

Mel turned slowly, very slowly, toward Yelena. "You told him?"

"I—okay, in my defense," Yelena said, holding up both hands, "Alexi overheard it and it was only a matter of time until—"

"You told Bucky?!" Mel's voice hit a new octave.

Yelena winced but only shrugged in response.

"Oh my god." Mel stared at the floor in disbelief. Her chest tighter than ever.

Ava bit her lip. "At least he seemed to take it well."

"I—You—Why would you do that?!"

"I was being supportive!"

"By telling my co-worker I dreamt of him?!"

Yelena shrugged. "Just trying to get the ball rolling."

"There's no ball! No rolling!" Before Mel could shriek into her hands, her tablet lit up on the vanity, followed by the sharp ping of all their phones.

"Mission alert: Briefing room, now"

The text shone across the screen like it was mocking her.

Mel stared at it, and then at the two vigilantes on her bed.

Yelena gave a very unconvincing shrug. "New mission?"

"I'm going to kill you."

Ava stood and patted her shoulder. "You can kill us after the mission."

Mel groaned and grabbed her blazer off the chair. "You both suck."

"Sure, sure." Yelena waved off as they followed Mel out the door.

Thunderbolts Briefing Room
Mel
———————
Val was already there standing in front of the main screen with her tablet in hand, a smile that could only be described as professionally sinister tugging at her lips.

"You're late," she said without breaking her smile, "even for you."

"We're on time." Yelena said with finality, taking a seat and propping her boots up on the table.

Mel slid into a chair at the far end of the room, her tablet and stylus at the ready. Bucky was already seated across the room, arms crossed, expression unreadable. He didn't look at her.

Good.

She didn't want to see how he'd look at her now that he knew. God, what if she made him uncomfortable? Was she now the creepy co-worker?

"This one's easy," Val broke her out of her thoughts, tapping a few buttons. A map popped up on screen, highlighting a warehouse just outside the city. "Abandoned shipping facility, recently reactivated under a fake company. We've traced a signal that might be linked to smuggled tech—could be Stark tech, could be stolen Wakandan scrap. Either way it's not supposed to be moving through black-market ports."

"Who's going in?" Bucky asked, his voice cool and clipped.

"You, Yelena, Ava, Walker," Val said gesturing vaguely. "Alexi, you're backup on the outside. Mel—"

Mel sat up immediately. "I'm not feild approved."

"You're not going in. But I want you on comms. You'll have eyes on the security feeds, keep tabs from the van."

Mel's brow furrowed. "The van?"

"Yes." Val said with a killer smile.

Ava leaned over to her, whispering. "You're going to hate the van, it smells like Walker's protein powder and regret."

"I heard that." Walker muttered.

"You were meant to." Ava replied.

Mel set down her stylus to rub her temples. "Fine."

Val clapped her hands once. "Gear up gang! You roll out in twenty."

The team began to disperse, Walker already grumbling about the van AC, Yelena claiming she was driving, Ava trailing behind with a wicked smile.

Mel lingered gathering her tablet. She glanced across the room just once.

Bucky met her eyes.

Her stomach flipped.

He gave her the tiniest of nods then looked away.

Great. Awesome. Wonderful.

This was going to be fine.

Chapter 12: First Aid

Thunderbolts Team Van
Mel
———————
The van smelled exactly as Ava had described. Mel sat wedged between Yelena and Ava, Walker across from them, a sour look on his face thanks to a jab Ava made about his helmet, and Bob was awkwardly trying to fasten his seatbelt beside the sliding door.

He'd been added to the mission last minute under Val's breezy logic of "He needs more field experience."

Which meant he'd be staying by Yelena's side the entire time.

Alexi pumped his fists enthusiastically from the passenger seat like he was on the way to a sports game.

At least someone would be enjoying this mission.

Bob finally managed to click his seatbelt into place with a victorious "ha!" that no one acknowledged.

From the drivers seat, Bucky glanced at the rear view mirror. "We're about ten minutes out. Everyone gear up."

Yelena cracked her knuckles and every pop-able ligament in her body, Ava pulled on her mask, and Walker (now slightly self conscious) did the same. Mel—who'd specifically not been given any tactical gear—double checked the comms tablet on her lap and tried to look useful. The mission file had been vague in addition to what Val had already told them. She knew enough to track down the warehouse and highlight a few likely exit points, she just had to hope her limited knowledge on the subject could carry them through.

She could adapt, she always did.

The van rolled to a quiet stop behind a rusted chain-link fence. Bucky and the others slipped out wordlessly, practiced, and professional. Even Bob followed suit, though he tripped on the doorframe and had to steady himself on Mel's arm.

Once the team was out of sight Mel exhaled. She quickly set up her comms station which consisted of a case that unfolded into a slim control panel on her lap. The signal was strong, cameras were already picking up movement on the inside. She patched everyone through and settled into the rhythm of giving them updates and watching each feed like her life depended on it.

Ava's voice crackled through. "Two guards patrolling the north side. Yelena and I are approaching."

Mel tapped into the view. "Got it. Looks like they're heading west. Cut across now and you'll intercept without being seen."

"Copy." Yelena murmured. "Look at you go."

Mel allowed herself a small smile. Her chest loosening slightly as her fingers flew across the controls, toggling camera feeds, logging movement. Her heart pounded with adrenaline. She wasn't panicking, not yet.

That was until she heard the sharp pops of gunfire, and Walkers voice swearing through the comm.

"Son of a—"

The security feed scrambled for a moment, then snapped back just in time to pick up the scuffle. The guard had successfully fired off a shot as Walker took him down.

"Who was that?" Bucky's voice this time. "Mel? Talk to me."

She clicked into split screen. "One guard down, Walker's been shot, he's up— but he's limping."

There was a pause.

"Tell him to sit out, we've got it from here." Bucky ordered.

Mel was already patching him through. "On it."

A few moments later, there was a bang on the van door. Scrambling up to help him, she pulled the door open only to be faced with an unfamiliar face and the barrel of a gun.

Her eyes widened in shock.

The man standing in front of her wasn't Walker.

He was tall, his large frame looming over her, his eyes narrowed in determination.

"Out." He barked, motioning with the gun. "Now."

Mel froze. "I'm just tech." Her voice was steadier than she felt. She held up her hands slowly, careful not to look directly at the weapon. "I'm unarmed."

Her comm was still open. She didn't dare glance down at the panel, but she prayed someone was listening.

"Get the fuck out of the van." The man growled, motioning with the gun once again.

Her heart pounded in her ears, drowning out all thoughts of prior training or instincts she'd thought picked up from action movies. She nodded, her breath shallow, and stepped out onto the gravel.

The moment her foot hit the ground he moved closer, grabbing her roughly by the arm. The muzzle of the gun now pressed hard into her ribs.

"Didn't think I'd get lucky today," he muttered under his breath as he marched them further away from the van. Further from safety. His eyes flicked over her. "Thought I'd get a nobody. But you?" He gave a sharp humorless smile. "You're the one from the media."

Mel's blood ran cold. Her feet scraped against the gravel, barely catching up with his stride. "You're thinking of someone else." She tried.

"Barnes's girlfriend, right?" He continued, grip tightening. "Lucky me."

There it was. Her face, the viral interviews, the magazines, the rumors, the lies. This was the fallout. She wasn't just an employee anymore.

The sound of gravel crunching under her boots felt deafening. The sun was too bright and her thoughts weren't catching up fast enough.

Fuck— think Melissa

How could she spin this?

A beat passed. Her eyes widened slightly. She had it.

"You have no idea what you're doing." She raised her chin in a show of confidence she didn't have. "Have you heard of the Winter Soldier?"

The man scoffed and pushed her along. "He's a washed up veteran, now shut up."

She shook her head, attempting a wry smile. "You don't know who you're messing with."

When he didn't respond she pressed her luck further. "I mean...he already doesn't like when other men get close to me, but if he finds out you not only grabbed me but pointed a gun at me?" She blew out a breath. "He's not just gonna shoot you, he's gonna tear you apart."

He tightened his grip on her arm, yanking her along, causing her to stumble. He was clearly unsure whether to call her bluff or not.

She could see it in his eyes, he was hesitating. Good.

"He doesn't even need a gun," she shrugged as if it were an everyday conversation. "He's killed people with his hands, specifically the vibrainium one as you well know."

The man glanced down at her but kept moving as they reached the warehouse.

"And the worst part?" She added, her voice barely above a whisper like she was sharing a secret. "He's not even gonna kill you fast."

"Funny." A voice came from behind them, cool and cutting. "I was just thinking the same thing."

The man spun.

Mel didn't.

She moved, faster than she could think better of it.

Driven by pure adrenaline and the faint voice of Yelena's voice in her head yelling 'kick him in the balls!', she stomped down on his foot with all her weight and jabbed her elbow far into his ribs. She grabbed the muzzle of his gun and pushed it down.

Crack—

His grip faltered, but so did his trigger finger.

The shot fired before any of them could process it. A hot searing burn bloomed instantly across her hip. The sound was deafening. She gasped, more in shock than pain at first, stumbling backward with wide eyes.

The man barely had time to react before Bucky was on him.

There was no warning, no words, just a blur of movement and a sickening crunch as Bucky slammed him into the ground. Hard. His vibranium arm pinned the man down, one knee digging into his spine as he ripped the gun from his hand and flung it across the gravel.

The man whimpered, already half-conscious from the impact, before Bucky brought his fist down once more. He was out like a light.

Mel's knees buckled, and she braced herself against a concrete pillar. Her hand went to her hip. Wet. Warm. She looked down and saw red blossoming across her dress shirt.

"Shit." She mumbled, dazed.

Bucky turned to her in an instant, the fury in his expression giving way to panic.

"Mel."

"I'm okay." She said quickly, automatically as if she could will it to be true. "I think, it's just my hip."

He was already there, hands gentle as he guided her to sit on the ground. His eyes flicked to the wound. "It went clean through."

"Oh...nice," she whispered, a little breathless. "Very action movie of me."

He huffed something that might've been a laugh, except his jaw was clenched too tight. He tore a strip from his sleeve and pressed it firmly against the wound.

She winced, sucking in a breath. "Shit."

"Sorry." He mumbled, though he kept the pressure firm and steady. "We need to get you back to the van."

"Are you all finished? Do they need you out there?" Mel's eyebrows drew together in worry and now pain.

"They'll be fine, they're wrapping up now." He paused, blinking, then looked at her as if she'd said something truly offensive. "I wouldn't leave you here even if they did need me."

Her throat caught. She didn't know what to say to that.

He pressed the comm in his ear. "Mel and I are heading back to the van, meet us there when you're done."

"Why is she out of the van—?"

"Talk later." He switched off his comm.

Before she could try, Bucky was already helping her up, one arm looped under hers carefully, the other still pressed lightly to her side to support her weight. She tried not to lean into him too much, but the pain made her stumble, and he didn't let her fall.

"Okay," she breathed. "I'm okay."

"You keep saying that." He muttered.

They reached the van slowly, the gravel crunching beneath their steps. Her legs were trembling now, adrenaline leaving her system in a cruel wave. Bucky used one arm to open the back of the van and helped her climb in, guiding her to sit on one of the seats.

She exhaled sharply against the pain. "Thank you Bucky, seriously but you don't have to—"

He was already pulling out the first aid kit.

"Seriously, I can do it—"

"Mel." He gave her a look.

"Bucky." She challenged.

He huffed and kneeled before her, pulling on sterile gloves from the kit. "Just sit still."

Thank god for the pain in that moment keeping her from focusing on how attractive he looked in that position. She shut her mouth.

Gingerly, he peeled off the makeshift bandage and pulled up the hem of her shirt slightly. She flushed immediately.

"Oh um...let me." She took over holding her shirt out of the way.

He shook his head and reached for the antiseptic.

She hissed when it touched her skin. "Ow—god, okay. I changed my mind I don't want you helping."

"Too late." He dabbed gently, more careful now. His hands were steady and deliberate.

The silence stretched as he worked. She tried not to squirm. Her thoughts drifted back to that morning. He was being unusually silent, even for him.

Was he upset with her?

"You okay?" She asked as he worked on patching her up with a new bandage.

"You just got shot and you're asking me if I'm okay?" He raised a brow.

She looked anywhere but at him. "It's just—I don't know...you seem distant?"

He frowned. "Not trying to be."

God did she really have to say it?

She huffed a breath. "Look. I know Yelena said some weird shit to you and now i'm here taking you away from the mission, so if you're upset with me please just say it."

Bucky blinked clearly caught off guard. "What? No. Mel, you didn't—this isn't—" He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I'm not upset with you. I'm upset at what could've happened to you."

She stilled.

He looked up at her. His hands still pressed gently to her side. "All because Val got bored and made you come with, and all because Val doesn't give a shit about anyone but herself."

He wasn't just talking about the mission anymore. He was talking about all of it.

Mel didn't know what to do. She nodded slowly.

Bucky let out a low breath and glanced down, his expression still taut. "I'm not upset with you Mel, I was...scared for you."

"Oh..." She fought the rising blush in her cheeks. "Thank you?" She immediately wanted to face-palm. What kind of response was that?

Yet Bucky actually smiled, small, tired, kind.  "You don't have to thank me for that." He finished bandaging her up and sat down on the seat beside her.

There was a pause before he huffed a quiet laugh. "And for the record? I wouldn't be upset over a dream you had either."

Mel's head snapped up, her face beet red. "Jesus don't bring it up."

"You're the one that mentioned it." He huffed a laugh. "Besides, I was brainwashed for years, you think my dreams aren't weird too?"

Mel ducked her head, hiding a sheepish smile. "Okay yeah, fair enough." She glanced sideways. "Still, thanks for coming for me, and going along with my shtick."

Bucky smirked. "Oh that was a shtick? I thought you just felt like complimenting me."

She rolled her eyes, but his smile softened before she could respond.

"Of course I did, I'd be a bad fake-boyfriend if I didn't."

Her chest fluttered. Stupid adrenaline. Or blood loss, definitely blood loss.

Before either of them could say anything else, the crunch of gravel signaled someone approaching fast.

Yelena's voice cut through the air half-panicked, half-pissed. "Why is there blood outside the van?!"

Mel winced. Here we go.

"Mel?" Bob's voice was close behind. He was already climbing into the van, wide-eyed.

"What the hell?" Ava called, peering in next.

"I'm okay." Mel said quickly, forcing a smile even though she was pale. "I'm fine, just grazed."

"You got shot. It went clean through." Bucky  muttered beside her.

Mel gave him a look. "We're selling 'fine' right now. Go with it."

Yelena hauled herself into the doorway, eyes wild. "You were supposed to stay in the van."

"Yeah well trouble came to the van." Mel shrugged and immediately regretted it, her face twisting in pain.

"Someone came to the van?" Ava repeated, louder this time.

"Jesus." Walker muttered, appearing behind her, holding a gunshot wound of his own.

"You were supposed to be back at the van a long time ago!" Mel scolded.

Walker shrugged. "Got sidetracked, can someone pass me the first-aid?"

Alexi finally popped his head in and frowned at the crowd. "What'd I miss?"

Mel sighed. "Nothing, it's not a big deal."

Yelena passed Walker the first-aid kit and turned her fiery gaze to Bucky. "Is she at least taken care of?"

Bucky sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Yes. She's bandaged. We'll change it again once we get back to the tower."

Alexi clapped Mel on the back. "Strong work, now we go home, eat, and drink!"

"I could go for a drink." Mel winced.

Bob, still hovering by the door, frowned. "I should've never left the van."

"Bob you were shadowing me." Yelena cut in like it was obvious. "You did great."

"Still," he hesitated glancing away from Mel's bandage and Walker's now exposed wound. "Can I ride in the front? I think i'm gonna be carsick."

Yelena gave him a pat on the back. "Sure."

The rest of the team began settling into their seats. Bucky stayed in the back with Mel as Alexi took the drivers seat.

"Yet another victory for the Thunderbolts!" Alexi declared as the engine rumbled to life beneath them, gravel kicking up behind the tires as they pulled away from the scene.

Somewhere along the ride back, Mel leaned into Bucky's side. He didn't move a muscle—afraid that any movement might make her think twice about staying close.

Chapter 13: Something Real

Thunderbolts HQ
Mel
———————
She blinked awake, groggy and disoriented. The world tilted slightly as her brain struggled to catch up. Then, the throbbing at her side flared to life, sharp and insistent, dragging everything back into brutal focus.

Right.

She'd been shot.

Bucky had patched her up.

And—

Her body jolted upright on instinct, ignoring the protest of her wound, her heart thudding in sudden panic. Her gaze shot upward and met Bucky's. He was still there, still watching her, his expression creased with quiet worry.

Oh God. She must've fallen asleep. On his arm.

"Sorry!" she blurted, face flushing as she swiped hastily at the corner of her mouth, praying the drool wasn't noticeable.

Bucky's mouth twitched into the ghost of a chuckle. "It's fine. Don't move too fast, you'll mess with the bandage." His eyes flicked down to her bloody shirt. "Speaking of, we might need to change that soon."

The van jolted over a bump as it rolled into the Tower's garage, and Mel lost balance. His hand was there instantly, firm and steady at her back, keeping her upright.

"We're getting you straight to medical as soon as we park." Ava said from across them, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"What about me?" Walker grumbled, leaning back with a dramatic gesture towards his own wound.

Ava didn't even blink. "You can walk."

"Barely." He grumbled, crossing his arms in defeat.

Mel made a weak noise of agreement, something between a nod and a hum, but she was too exhausted to contribute anything useful. Her limbs felt heavy, her mind fogged. She'd never been so aware of every beat of her pulse, each one reverberating painfully against the wound at her side. God. She was spent. It felts like she'd run a marathon and back.

The van screeched softly to a stop, and the doors slid open with metallic clatter.

"Alright everyone clean up and then drinks!" Alexi announced from the driver's seat.

Bucky was on his feet first. He offered Mel a hand, not that she asked for it. She eyed it. She'd slept on him for the entire car ride after he'd taken care of her. She needed to reinforce her rules and fast.

Yet, when she tried to stand on her own, her knees nearly buckled. His hand closed around her elbow before she could argue.

"I've got it." She muttered.

"Yeah," he said, voice low. "I know you do. Humor me anyway."

Too tired to come up with an excuse, Mel let herself lean into the quiet strength of his arm as they stepped out of the van. The garage was bright, almost painfully so after the dim interior, and the stark smell of oil burned her nose.

"Med bay," Bucky said to no one in particular, already steering her toward the elevator.

Walker groaned behind them. "Glad somebody gets a VIP escort."

"Cry about it," Ava shot back, making Yelena snicker.

The elevator dinged open and the entire team crammed in. To say it was a tight fit would be an understatement. Bucky maneuvered himself behind her, his chest pressed lightly against her back as the doors slid shut.

Goddamn this day was testing her.

The others filed out on the dorm floor, leaving Bucky, Mel, and Walker leaning against the far wall for the final stretch.

"You gonna hold my hand too Barnes?" Walker smirked.

Both Mel and Bucky shot him identical withering looks.

"Tough crowd."

Thunderbolts HQ - Med Bay
Mel
———————
The med bay was too bright. The kind of sterile, white light that made everything look worse. The dark smudges under her eyes from her mascara, the hair falling out of her claw clip, and the dried streak of grime on her cheek she hadn't had the energy to wipe off.

Bucky guided her inside like it was second nature, it made her wonder how many times he'd found himself here. One of his hands held her elbow, firm but careful, while the other hovered near her back without quite touching her. She hated how much she noticed that, how aware she was of the space between them, or lack thereof.

"You don't have to stay," she said as they stopped near one of the exam tables. "I'm fine. You probably need to clean up too."

His brow furrowed. "You're not fine. And I'm not leaving you in here alone."

"Walker's here." She defended weakly, nodding to the other table where Walker was already sitting, dangling his feet off the edge.

Bucky quirked an unimpressed brow. "He doesn't count."

Before she could come up with a comeback, she was cut off by one of the med techs briskly approaching, hands gloved, clipboard at the ready.

"Let's get you checked out." The tech gave her a quick once-over. "You'll need to take that shirt off so I can assess the wound."

Mel froze. "Oh. Uh-right."

She glanced down at her blood-soaked blouse, suddenly hyper aware of the thin tank top she had underneath. At least she had something on underneath.

Bucky's gaze flicked away the instant she tugged at the buttons, his jaw tightening a fraction. He busied himself examining a clipboard on the wall like it was fascinating.

Mel rolled her eyes even as her face heated. The fabric clung stubbornly where the blood had dried, making the process awkward. She finally peeled the ruined fabric from her skin and balled it up beside her. Lifting the bottom of her tank top for better access. She watched nervously as the tech examined the damage.

"Who did these bandages?" The nurse asked as she carefully peeled them off.

Bucky said, voice low. "I did."

"Ah!" The nurse smiled turning back to Mel. "Your boyfriend did a good job."

Mel's mouth opened to correct her, but...something stopped her. Maybe it was the warmth of Bucky's presence at her side. Maybe is was exhaustion. Instead, she said softly. "Yeah...he did."

Bucky's eyes darted to hers, just for a heartbeat, something unreadable flickering there before he looked back at the wall.

The nurse smiled faintly and began working. "He even stopped the bleeding almost completely. You've got someone who knows what they're doing."

"Army training," Bucky muttered, his voice clipped, like he wasn't sure how to respond.

Mel winced as the antiseptic burned against her wound. Bucky immediately glanced her way, leaning closer like he couldn't stop himself.

"You okay?" He asked gently.

"I'm fine," she ground through her teeth. "Just—holy hell, that stings."

He continued to hover as the tech worked, swapping out bandaged with practiced hands. "You're lucky," she said casually. "Another inch and this could've been much worse."

"Yeah, tell me about it." Bucky muttered, and the way his jaw tightened at that made Mel's stomach flip.

A moment later the nurse stepped back. "All done. Take it easy tonight. No sudden movements. And you should change the bandages daily. Maybe have him help you with that." She nodded to Bucky who tried his best to look nonchalant about it.

Mel murmured a thank you and reached for her ruined shirt, wrinkling her nose at the blood stains. She didn't get far before Bucky was there, a steady hand offered as she slid off the table.

"Careful," he said, voice rougher than usual.

She managed a nod, clutching the balled-up blouse in one hand.

"Want me to grab you a new shirt?" His hand hovered again, almost but not quite touching the small of her back.

Mel shook her head, though the thought of trekking all the way back to her room alone made her stomach twist. "No, it's fine." She paused biting her lip. "But...could you help me get to my room?" Her voice quieted. God, she hated asking for help, but simply standing felt like an uphill climb.

"I was planning on it." He said gently, like there had never been another option. His hand slid to her elbow, warm and solid, grounding her as she leaned into him just enough to stay steady.

She fought back a wince with each step as they made their way to the elevator. Trying to walk without moving her abdomen proved to be a lot harder than she thought.

"Slow down." Bucky murmured, catching the slight hitch in her breathing.

"I am slow," she muttered back through gritted teeth.

He scoffed something that might've been a laugh and pressed the elevator button, giving her a small look.

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and he guided her inside, his hand never straying far. She tried to stand on her own, but every tiny shift sent a pulse of pain through her side. Finally, she let herself lean against the wall. Jaw tight.

"If you quit being so stubborn and let me actually help you, you wouldn't be in as much pain." Bucky said almost sternly but not unkind.

"That's rich coming from you." She shot back, though her voice lacked any real bite.

His mouth curved in the faintest smirk, but he didn't argue. Instead, his gaze lingered on her. Then, his smile faded and he looked away.

She was suddenly too aware of the close walls of the elevator and the way his hand hovered just inches from her waist, like he was fighting the urge to steady her again.

The silence between them stretched, mixed with the plain elevator music. Not uncomfortably so just...heavy.

Mel shifted her weight and tried to find something clever to say, but nothing came out. Her brain felt sluggish, like the pain and adrenaline had short circuited all her usual defenses.

The elevator gave a soft ding. Opening up on the common level. Loud banter could be heard from the kitchen and the clinking of glasses. Bucky stepped forward first, one hand on her waist, the other braced against the door so it wouldn't close. "C'mon," he said gently.

She tried to step out on her own but the moment her weight shifted, pain lanced through her side. She faltered, hissing under her breath.

Bucky's hand tightened at her waist before she could stumble. "Careful," he murmured, voice low and steady.

"I'm fine." She muttered automatically, though her face betrayed her.

"Sure you are," he said, a hint of dry humor threading through his words as he guided her forward.

The hallway felt endless. Her footsteps uneven as they made their way past the glass windows looking out over the city. The hum of voices from the kitchen faded behind them, leaving only the sound of their shuffling footsteps.

Thunderbolts HQ - Mel's Room
Mel
———————
By the time they reached her door, she was breathing harder and leaning into him more than she'd like to admit. Damn it was embarrassing getting winded in front of a super solider. Before she could try and reach for the handle, Bucky leaned in and opened the door with his free hand.

Wordlessly, he helped her inside the dark room as she vaguely guided him to her bed. He held her steady until she was lowered, comfortably sitting on the mattress, and clicked on her bedside lamp, casting a warm glow over his face.

Oh damnit he's hot. She thought miserably.

And here he was in her room, along with the clothes from an indecisive morning scattered around her floor. At least her bedside drawer was shut, the last thing she needed was to give a one hundred year old a heart attack.

"Can I get you a change of clothes? That doesn't look comfortable to sleep in."

She huffed a small laugh and grimaced at the pain that followed. "You've seen me fall asleep at my desk, I can sleep anywhere."

Bucky's lips twitched, the faintest hint of amusement softening his worried expression. "True, but what do you want?"

Something about the way he said it made her look away. After a moment."There's clothes in my top drawer could you grab me a shirt and shorts please?"

He nodded and moved towards her dresser hesitantly, like he was still trying to remain respectful of her space.

She watched, face flushed, as he pulled out the drawer and quickly picked up the first two items of clothing he saw. There was something so oddly intimate about him picking clothes for her, almost startlingly so.

He held up the shirt and shorts, brows raised. "These good?"

She fought back another chuckle. "Yes, those are fine."

He set them beside her, but didn't immediately leave. Instead, his gaze flicked briefly to her bandaged side then back to her face, like he was torn between staying and giving her privacy.

"Do you need anything else? Do you have water for your meds?" He asked putting his hands on his hips. She almost laughed, he looked so far away from the tough soldier when he was fussing over her.

"I'm okay I have my water bottle." She smiled softly.

"You'll need help changing the bandage tomorrow morning." He said quietly, almost like an apology for sticking around.

She shifted on the mattress, pulling the clothes into her lap. "Yeah...would you mind?"

"Of course not." He spoke, so sincerely there was no room for doubt. "Just uh-text me when you wake up."

She couldn't help but smirk at that. "Text? That's very modern of you."

"What?" He tried to look offended but a faint smirk played on his lips. "I'm not that outdated, I've picked up some things."

"Good to know, I'll text you then."

"Yeah...and you know you can call me if you need, I'll have my phone close by."

She smiled. "Thank you Bucky, for everything."

He nodded. "Don't mention it."

A silence stretched between them. Not the awkward kind just...charged. Mel stared down at the clothing in her lap, her fingers absentmindedly twisting the hem of the shirt he'd chosen. She needed to tell him he could go now, let him rest, but the words felt heavy in her throat.

Bucky cleared his throat first. "Alright, I'll...let you change." He gestured vaguely to the door but didn't move right away, like he was waiting for her to say something.

"Okay." She said softly. Then, because the quiet between them felt like it would swallow her, she added, "I'll be fine, you know. You can go get some rest."

His gaze flicked to hers, unreadable, then back toward the door. "Yeah, I'll check on you tomorrow."

Mel nodded, biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from saying something stupid.

Bucky seemed to hesitate a second longer, then turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him.

Thunderbolts HQ
Bucky
——————
The hallway felt too quiet once he'd shut her door.

Letting out a slow breath, Bucky scrubbed a hand over his face. He could still see her in his minds eye. The curve of her shoulders when she'd tried to sit up, the stubborn tilt of her chin even while bleeding, the soft way she'd said Thank you Bucky.

God, he needed to get it together.

She'd jokingly called him modern. He almost laughed at that now, standing in a hallway that felt like it belonged in another lifetime. The truth was, he didn't know what the hell he was doing. Patching her up in the feild had been instinct, muscle memory from too many missions...But the way his chest had painfully tightened at the sight of her blood? That was new.

It had been too close-too damn close. The second he'd seen the deep scarlet blooming across her blouse...he could only imagine the worst. That sharp fear was hard to shake even after they'd patched her up. It still clung to him now.

Bucky shook his head and started towards his own room, boots heavy on the tile. He needed a shower. He needed to clean off the mission, the smell of adrenaline and blood still clinging to his skin. He needed...

He needed to stop thinking about how casually she'd said 'yeah, he did' to that nurse. Not denying their fake partnership.

He'd almost made it past the common area when—

"How is she?" Ava asked.

He turned to find Ava, Yelena, Bob, and Walker lounging with drinks in hand. Alexi was passed out on the rug.

Bucky raised his brows at the unconscious man and pulled his gaze back to Ava. "She's fine. Med bay cleared her, she's resting now."

Ava tilted her head like she could read more from him than he wanted her to. "Resting huh?" Her gaze flicked toward the hallway he'd come from. "You sticking around to make sure she fell asleep?"

Bucky's jaw ticked, he shook his head. "I walked her back to her room. She got shot. Someone had to make sure she didn't collapse on the way."

"Right." Yelena drawled from her perch on the arm of the couch. "You're just being a gentleman."

Walker snorted. "Hardly. He didn't stay to walk me back to my room."

Bucky ignored them, mostly because if he opened his mouth something sharp would come out. His hands flexed at his sides before he muttered. "I'm heading to bed." Already moving past them. He wasn't in the mood for banter, not when his head was buzzing so loud.

Thunderbolts HQ - Bucky's Room
Bucky
———————
The door clicked shut behind him. Silence engulfed the space like a wave.

Shirt off, boots kicked aside, he made a beeline for the shower. The water hissed to life, steam filling the small space as he stepped under the spray. The heat stung just enough, washing away the grime of the day, but it didn't do a damn thing for the thoughts clawing at his skull.

Underneath the panic that still gripped him, there was something else...

He took a heavy sigh.

What is wrong with you Barnes?

He'd lived through the age of the pinup girl. The golden era of red lips, soft curls, silk dresses. He'd seen more than his share of beautiful women—Hell, he used to be smooth about it. He used to flirt like it was second nature. But lately...tonight...Seeing Mel in that simple tank top, tired and bloodied, yet still trying to laugh? It had knocked the air right out of him.

And God, he felt awful for even thinking it. She'd been in pain, and that was what he thought of?

He leaned both hands on the slick tile, head hanging as water beat down on his shoulders.

He didn't know when it had changed. When she stopped being someone just there around the Tower, or just Val's assistant. When her voice became something he listened for. When her smile became something he looked for, worked for even.

When the quiet moments with her started meaning more than they should.

This isn't real, he reminded himself, the words a harsh mantra. Just exhaustion. Just proximity. Just Valentina getting into his head. Fake boyfriend. That's it. Don't turn it into something it's not.

But then came a whisper he couldn't shake: What if it was...something?

What would it even look like? Mel and him? Would she smile at him because she wanted to and not because she was trying to play a part? Would he have stayed with her tonight without hesitation? Made sure she had gotten to sleep? After that interview, would they have kissed again? Really kissed? Would they have laughed about the ridiculousness of it all instead of letting the silence do the talking?

What would it feel like to have something that good? To have her?

The thought wedged itself deep in his chest like shrapnel, equal parts hope and agony.

He shut off the water and grabbed a towel, swiping it over his face before catching sight of himself in the mirror. His reflection stared back, warped by the fog. Scarred and shadowed. A face shaped by too much history and not enough peace. A reminder of just how far he was from the kind of man she deserved.

If only Steve were here. He'd know what to say, know what to do. He would know the right path. He always had.

But Steve wasn't here, not anymore, and Bucky was left dripping, raw, and spiraling.

Maybe he could call Sam?—No. Bad Idea.

He dragged his fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends in frustration.

One thing was clear, he couldn't let this mess of thoughts spill over onto Mel. She didn't deserve that. She'd done enough damage control for a lifetime. God knows how much she already cleaned up for the rest of them.

But still...there was a moment earlier. That flicker in her eyes. That something when she looked at him, sharp and quiet, that kept his chest tight with an awful hope.

God he could ram his head into a wall.

Instead, he climbed into bed. The mattress was soft. Comforting. Too much so. It didn't match the restless spin of his thoughts.

And for the first time in a while, he wished sleep wouldn't come. Not because of his usual nightmares but because dreaming of something he couldn't have was starting to hurt worse than reality.

And wanting more?

That could ruin everything.

Chapter 14: What are friends for?

Thunderbolts HQ - Mel's Room
Mel
———————
Mel awoke achy and sore.

Somehow, she'd managed to stumble into the shower last night without collapsing. Keeping the bandage dry, however, had been more trouble than it was worth. The second her head hit the pillow, she was out.

Now, sunlight leaked through her sheer curtains far too brightly, stinging her eyes. She tried to sit up, only to collapse back into her mattress as a sharp sting pulsed through her side.

"Damnit." She hissed, then gritted her teeth and tried again. This time slower, awkwardly maneuvering herself until she was sitting upright.

How did these hero's do it? They got shot constantly and still managed to do badass walk-aways. Oh right, enhanced healing. She could use a dose of that right about now.

Mel reached for her phone and scrolled past the flood of notifications from Valentina, a sweet goodnight text from Yelena and Ava, and buzzing social feed—which was still blowing up on the account of a rogue photographer snapping a photo of Bucky helping an injured Mel out of the van. How'd a paparazzi even get into their garage? Really? She made the mental note to yell at someone about that later.

Then her gaze landed on another message.

Bucky: Hey, let me know when you're up.

To her dismay, a smile tugged at her lips. Of course he remembered.

She chewed the inside of her cheek, then slowly typed out a reply.

Mel: Good morning! I'm awake, thanks again for last night.

She paused then added.

Mel: Are you still able to help me out with these bandages? I can always ask one of the others if you're busy. I just don't trust my ability enough to do it myself lol

Wait. Did he even know what "lol" meant?

She deleted the message. Rewrote it. Deleted it again. Then, before she could psych herself out further, hit send.

Tossing her phone aside, Mel caught sight of her own miserable reflection in the mirror across the room. Her hair had dried in a chaotic wave from sleeping on it wet, and the puffiness under her eyes was doing her no favors.

"Christ Melissa," she muttered, dragging herself toward the bathroom. Every step made her side throb with protest.

She managed her morning routine through gritted teeth, eyeing her makeup bag afterward. A little touch-up couldn't hurt. Just enough to look like she wasn't one wrong step away from falling apart.

By the time she was finished, a startling knock sounded at her door. She quickly wiped her clammy palms down her jeans, and hobbled out of the bathroom toward the bedroom. "Come in!"

Why was she nervous? She and Bucky had already weathered the post-wet-dream awkwardness and somehow come out fine. So why did this feel different?

"We've come bearing gifts!" Yelena's voice rang out cheerfully.

Mel rounded the corner just in time to see Yelena, Ava, and Bob stroll in, Bob carefully balancing a plate of eggs, hash browns, and a steaming mug of coffee.

"Oh! Hey guys." A suprised laugh escaped her. "I thought you were—"

"What are you doing up?" Yelena interrupted, already ushering her back to sit on the edge of her bed. Bob placed the plate down on her vanity like it was an offering to royalty.

"I need to get around somehow." Mel defended, giving Ava a half-hearted look as she helped her ease down gently.

"You don't need to get around, period," Ava said with a disapproving click of her tongue as Yelena handed Mel the coffee with grave importance.

Bob lingered nearby, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. "How's your wound doing?"

"It's alright." Mel lied, taking a sip from the mug. She shrugged as best she could without wincing. "Thank you, all of you, but you really don't need to—"

A second knock cut her off.

"I'll get it!" Bob chirped, striding over to the door before Mel could move.

There was a pause. "Hey Bucky! What are you doing here?"

From her place on the bed, Mel had just enough of a view to spot Bucky's brief flash of confusion.

"Uh, hey." He said, clearing his throat. "I'm here to check on Mel."

Three heads turned toward her in perfect unison.

Mel refused to look at Ava an Yelena, she could practically feel the smirks growing on their faces.

"Didn't realize we had a second wave of nurses coming." Ava smiled to Yelena.

Yelena leaned back on her heels, her expression far too innocent. "I didn't know you were taking patient appointments, Barnes."

Bucky scratching the back of his neck, his frown deepening. "I'm just here to help her change her bandage." His eyes flicked to Mel's briefly before moving back to the group. "But if you have that covered I'll just—"

"Nope."

"Nada"

Yelena and Ava shook their heads at once. Bob glanced between the group in confusion.

"You're here now, might as well stay." Ava shrugged.

"Yeah, we made breakfast anyways. It's your shift." Yelena added slyly.

Mel shot them both a death glare, silently pleading "Shut the fuck up"

She turned back to Bucky. "It's okay, you don't have to really."

"I mean," He eyed her abdomen as if her could see the bandage beneath her oversized sleep shirt. "You probably should change it soon."

Before she could answer, Yelena clapped her hands once. "You know what? We have to get going anyways." She gave Ava and Bob a pointed look.

"Yeah...we gotta do...stuff." Ava said with a nod, ushering Bob along.

"But we didn't even—"

Yelena gave Bob a firm pat on the back "We'll see them later."

The door shut behind them with suspicious swiftness.

Silence settled.

Bucky hovered near her dresser suddenly looking like he didn't quite know where to stand.

Mel cleared her throat. "You can uh...grab the first aid stuff under my sink."

He nodded, disappearing into other bathroom. She shifted awkwardly on the edge of the bed, resisting the urge to grab her laptop to fill the silence.

...Actually. That wasn't a bad idea.

She reached for it, wincing at the movement, and clicked it open on her lap. "I should probably check in on work while you're getting that."

Bucky's voice floated in from the bathroom. "You sure thats a good idea?"

She started typing. "I've already missed a dozen emails. If I can clear some of it now, I wont't fall too far behind—"

He emerged holding the first aid kit and a washcloth, giving her a pointed look. "Mel."

She glanced up.

"You were shot yesterday. Maybe give yourself a day."

"One day is all it takes for everything to pile up." Mel breathed out, eyes scanning the emails, taking a mental count on how many she could get through.

His gentle fingers on the top of her screen broke her from her focus. She looked up, face warming slightly.

"Let's get through this first before I loose you to the backlog." His gaze was steady. She could've sworn there was a little amusement in his tone.

"...Fine," she relented, setting the laptop aside with a dramatic sigh. "One hour and then I drown."

"I'll allow it." He pulled up the chair from her vanity, setting the supplies down.

He paused gesturing something with his hands.

Mel frowned. "What?"

He scratched the back of his neck. "Your shirt's kinda...in the way."

Mel blinked. "Oh, right." She carefully lifted her shirt enough to reveal the gauze, her thunderous heartbeat betraying her. Hopefully that super serum didn't give him enhanced hearing. She made a mental note to look into that later, preferably when she wasn't half-naked in front of him.

Bucky sat down slowly, the chair creaking beneath him as he opened the kit. Mel shifted her hips closer and tried not to think about how he was basically sitting between her legs. He didn't say anything right away, just unwrapped the gauze with the level of care that made her more nervous than if he'd been hurried or rough.

His hands were steady, warm.

He focused with the quiet intensity of someone trying not to think too hard. His brows furrowed slightly as he peeled back the last layer and revealed the angry, bruised skin beneath.

Mel winced as the fabric stuck for a moment.

"Sorry," he murmured, eyes flicking up to check her face. "Didn't mean to pull."

"You didn't." His fingers brushed over her ribs again. She hated how easy it was to imagine what it would feel like if he weren't trying to be so careful.

His hands lingered just a second longer. And then, like he remembered himself, drew back.

She watched him wet the washcloth with antiseptic. As he wrung it out, her eyes caught on his vibranium hand. There was something quietly hypnotic about the motion of the metal.

"Is your arm waterproof?" She blurted before she could think better of it, her face warming.

He let out a soft breath, close to a laugh. "Uh, yeah, it can be a pain to wash though."

She gave a soft smile. "I bet."

He huffed a breath and reached forward again, gently dabbing around the wound, careful not to touch raw skin. His fingers settled onto her side as he worked, accidental.

She felt her breath hitch anyway.

"S0..." she said quickly trying to fill the space with anything. "Thanks for, uh. This."

His hand paused briefly against her skin before continuing.

"I told you I would."

"Yeah, but still." She couldn't look at him. "You didn't have to."

He didn't reply for a moment, but his movements slowed.

"Mel."

Her name, low and unhurried, made her glance down at him.

His eyes were steady on hers now. Bandage almost forgotten. "I wanted to."

Something sparked through her ribs that had nothing to do with the injury. Her throat tightened.

Shit.

For a split second neither of them breathed. Then, as if nothing happened, his hand moved again. Gently, he pressed a new gauze into place.

She flinched.

"You okay?"

"Fine," she whispered. Definitely not okay. It felt like a million toothpicks were poking into her side—and to make matters worse, Bucky was looking up at her with that stupidly beautiful frown he wore when he was worried, and his hands were on her and—

"Almost done." He said softly. His voice had shifted, quieter. But there was something behind it Mel couldn't place. Annoyance? Frustration? Whatever it was, it was like tension pulled tight beneath the surface.

He started wrapping the fresh bandage, the backs of his fingers ghosting her waist as he circled it around her. His touch wasn't inappropriate, wasn't deliberate.

But it burned.

Her mind betrayed her, flashing back to the kiss. The rough scrape of his stubble, the surprising softness of his mouth, the steady warmth of his hand against her cheek. A thousand locked away thoughts stirred, rattling the lid of a box she wasn't ready to open.

Mel tipped her head back toward the ceiling, chasing air. "So you said you used to do this a lot?"

Sure Melissa, go ahead and bring up his trauma while you're at it.

Bucky shrugged, gaze still focused on his hands. "Yeah. Sort of."

He didn't elaborate right away. Just focused on securing the gauze, smoothing the last strip of tape down with a deliberate gentleness that made her heart race.

"Everyone had to learn how," he finally said. "We didn't always have medics, so it fell onto whoever was still standing."

Mel swallowed, unsure of what to say.

"I got good at it," he added, quieter now. "It's easier when it's not someone you..." He trailed off with the shake of his head. He wasn't looking at her anymore, just sat back and closed the kit with a muted click. "Sorry, I didn't mean to throw all of that at you."

"No!-No." Mel cleared her throat. "I want to know—I mean—isn't that what friends are for?" She cringed the second it left her mouth. Her chest tightening at that simple word.

Bucky's gaze flicked back to hers, steady and unreadable.

"Friends," he echoed, almost like he was testing the word on his tongue.

Mel cursed herself silently. Why did it sound like a question when she said it?

"Right," he said after a beat, nodding slowly.

He stood to his feet with a small sigh, wiping his hands on a clean rag he must've pulled from the kit.

She watched him, suddenly too aware of the way the word still lingered in the air between them, heavy.

Then, before she could spiral further, her laptop pinged with a familiar ringtone.

"Shit," she muttered, shifting to reach for it. Pain tugged hard at her side.

Bucky was hovering next to her in an instant. "Hey—careful."

Her heart sank at the contact call photo covering her screen. Her grandparents. She'd forgotten they knew how to FaceTime. She looked up to Bucky, dread pooling in her stomach.

"It's my grandparents." She said weakly.

"Yeah." He frowned. "What's the problem?"

She huffed a breath as the call continued to ring. "You know how they are, they'll probably interrogate the both of us, especially if they know I've been shot."

He gave her a look. "It'll be fine, they just care about you."

In an instant, her screen filled with Nana and Nani both sitting way too closes to the camera, peering into the lens.

"Meli!" Nani gasped. "You're awake! Are you okay? Why didn't you call us immediately?"

Mel gave a small smile. "I'm okay, I promise. It was just a graze." She said too quickly. Behind her, Bucky shook his head at her lie.

"Just a graze? You were shot," Nana cut in, scandalized. "We saw the photo! Bucky carrying you."

Mel winced. "I'm fine really, Bucky was here to help."

Nani squinted at the screen. "Wait—Is that him back there?"

Bucky still standing awkwardly with the first aid kit in his hands, gave a small smile.

"Oh!" Nana clapped. "Bucky! Come say hi!"

Mel tilted the screen reluctantly, revealing Bucky fully. He smiled politely, leaning in closer to the camera. "Hi." He gave a small wave.

"You look tired," Nani said, "you too Meli. Have you two been staying up too late?" Nani winked laughing at her own joke.

Mel dragged a hand down her face, hiding her flushed cheeks. "Nani please."

"Anyways, Meli. We wanted to invite you both to dinner."

Mel blinked. "Dinner?"

"Sunday night," Nani continued, like it was already agreed upon. "Your cousins, brothers are visiting, and we wanted a proper dinner with you two. You'll come, yes?"

"Oh, I'll have to check our schedule—"

"We'd love to." Bucky said.

Mel's eyes went wide and she gave him an icy look from the corner of her eye.

"I mean—if the schedule is open." Bucky added, a futile attempt at a save.

"Perfect! We'll make sure places are set out for you two." Her grandparents beamed. Nani pointed at Mel. "And wear something nice. We're taking a family photo this time."

Mel made a sound that could only be described as verbal malfunction.

"Seven PM Sunday night! Put it on your calendar beta!" They waved, their faces filling up the entire screen. "Goodbye Bucky! Bye Meli! We love you get better soon!" Nani shouted, and then the call ended with an abrupt beep.

Silence.

"They're nice" Bucky said, ignoring Mel's glare.

Mel stared at him. "We'd love to?" She quoted him incredulously.

Bucky shrugged. "Okay, I'd like to is that better?"

Mel fought the urge to fall back onto her mattress and scream. "I take back my thank you from earlier."

Gone was his pensive expression from earlier. An amused smirk played on his lips. She might've been happy to see it if he wasn't so infuriating.

"Oh come on," he said, bracing his forearm on her headboard. "they just want dinner. It's not like they proposed on our behalf."

"They might as well have!" Mel cried, gesturing wildly. "Do you understand what a Sunday night family dinner means to them? The last time I went, they ambushed my cousin with a slideshow of his baby photos and his girlfriend left early in emotional distress.

Bucky snorted. "She left because of some baby photos?"

"She left because of everything. I'm telling you Bucky, it's a trap. A loving, well-spiced, guilt-laden trap!"

Bucky shook his head with a smile.

"I'm serious!" Mel pointed a stern finger at him. "You just RSVP'd us to a meal with every auntie, uncle, second cousin, and person who knew me as a child. That's like dating final boss."

"Well, I'm great with family, trust me."

Mel rolled her eyes. "You do this often? Fake dating in front of a girl's family? Is this a hobby I don't know about?"

Bucky tilted his head, playing along. "What? like its hard?"

She hurled one of her decorative pillows at his chest. He caught it easily with a smirk, tossing it right back. She swatted it aside, scowling. "You're impossible."

"You're dramatic."

"I'm realistic," she shot back. "You didn't see the look on my Nana's face. That's was the look of a woman already picking out table runners for a wedding that doesn't exist!"

Bucky grinned, arms folded, smug as hell. "So what I'm hearing is...you're scared."

"I'm injured and behind on work is what I am." Mel corrected.

"Oh right. Gotta keep the patient calm," he said, mock concern lacing his voice. "Can't have you spiraling before the dinner."

Mel gave him her most unamused glare "You know, you're just as bad as Yelena and Ava."

He was still smiling. Worse, it was soft now. "Don't worry, we'll make it out alive. We've already rehearsed how we met and all the facts. It'll be a breeze."

Mel stared at him for a moment, exasperated and helpless and maybe just a little doomed.

"God, they're going to love you."

Bucky raised a brow. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

She looked up at him, her nerves flaring again as the frustration ebbed. It was a bad thing. Of course her family would fall in love with him, he's picture perfect. But what would they be left with once this whole charade was up? Once the performance ended?

What would she be left with?

She shook her head. Forcing a small smile, she pulled her laptop back into her lap, and ignored the tightening of her chest. "Let's just get through Sunday first."

Chapter 15: Enjoy it

Thunderbolts HQ
Mel
——————
The week dragged by in slow motion.

Stuck between her bedroom and the common room, Mel spent most of her days hunched over her laptop, working through painkillers and deadlines. Occasionally, she'd stop long enough to let Bucky change her bandages on her injury which was, thankfully, healing a little more each day.

He'd become part of her routine. Like clockwork, he'd knock on her door each morning, first aid kit in hand, sometimes a mug of coffee too. He'd ignore every time she insisted she could handle it herself (she couldn't).

Not once did he miss a day.

And while her thoughts still wandered, especially with him sitting there, close, careful, between her legs...it had somehow become easier. Less awkward, almost normal. Until he showed up fresh from a shower, hair damp and slicked back, and then she was back to square one.

They were talking more now, too. He'd lean over her shoulder as she worked, pointing things out on her screen, offering his half-sarcastic commentary, asking questions.

When the team came back from missions late at night and dispersed to their rooms, Bucky would usually find Mel curled up in the common room, face lit by the glow of her laptop, and stick around a while.

He'd always been her friend, but now he was something else. Something steadier. Closer. Comfort wrapped in routine.

The others noticed too, unfortunately. Yelena and Ava teased her constantly. Alexi, bless him, had started dishing out unsolicited "relationship advice" and Mel was half-certain he'd forgotten about the fake part of their fake dating.

They were unbearable. But, truthfully, Mel didn't hate it.

This new rhythm she'd slipped into. Bucky's quiet presence in the mornings, the teasing in the evenings, the stolen moments of peace between. It all felt nice...normal.

And a small, foolish part of her wished that even when all of this ended, maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't have to go back to how it was before. That childish part of her hadn't quieted by the time Sunday rolled around.

Late afternoon light spilled into her room as Mel sat at her vanity, carefully blotting on a swipe of tinted balm. Nothing too fancy. A sweater and jeans would do. Her hair fell loosely down her shoulders, as she chose to forgo her usual claw clip.

Beneath it all, her nerves itched like static in her skin.

She was adjusting a simple necklace around her neck when a knock sounded at the door.

"Come in!"

Bucky stepped inside, and Mel's breath caught before she could help it.

He looked...annoyingly good. Casual but clean. A fitted dark henley with the sleeves pushed up, worn jeans, his hair swept back just enough to show he'd tried, but not too hard. He looked like a lumberjack on the cover of one of those drugstore romance novels she always pretended not to consider buying.

It wasn't fair, really. The whole brooding look shouldn't be allowed to work in friendly-family lighting.

She could've sworn she saw his eyes dip, just a second, before finding her eyes again.

"You ready?"

Almost.

Mel cleared her throat and grabbed her phone from the bed. "Yeah. But first, Val's been breathing down my neck about content for the relationship." she shrugged not knowing what else to call it. "I was wondering if you'd humor me and take a photo. You know. For optics."

He raised an eyebrow, amused. "You got shot a week ago and she's already expecting more content? I thought that garage photo would've bought us some time."

Mel gave a half smile. "She said I'm not 'milking the narrative'." Mel made air quotes and rolled her eyes.

He gave a small smile, the kind that made her stomach do something deeply inconvenient.

"Alright, yeah" he said, stepping closer. "Get my good side though."

Mel snorted. "Sure, sure."

He leaned in without hesitation, close enough that she could smell the faint scent of cedar and something sharper, maybe his aftershave. She angled herself in front of him and raised her phone, then paused. "Wait— this looks way too robotic."

"Is that a dig at the arm?" He gestured with the vibranium one.

She laughed, shaking her head. "No! I mean, people on the internet analyze photos like it's their job. We gotta look like we actually like each other."

"I like you." He said with a shrug.

Mel knew how he meant it, but that didn't stop her heart from racing.

"You know what I mean." She deadpanned though a smile tugged at her mouth anyway.

"Yeah okay." He huffed stepping back into frame. "I could put my arm around your...waist?"

He said it like the concept of a waist had just been introduced to him.

For a super soldier, he was such a dork.

Mel laugh and nodded. "Sure."

Bucky hesitated only a beat before slipping his arm around her waist, hand resting lightly at her side, careful not to brush her wound. His touch was gentle, steady, like always. Mel tried not to tense at the contact, but it was a losing battle. Her brain was already filing it under save for later.

She adjusted the angle, holding the phone high enough to catch the best lighting.

"Okay," she murmured. "Smile."

He exhaled through his nose and put on faint smile.

Mel snapped one, then two more, just to be safe. One of them was slightly blurry, one was a little off-center, but the third?

The third looked real.

Bucky's chin was tucked slightly toward her, his eyes soft. Their smiles didn't look posed, they looked happy. Like they were genuinely enjoying standing there with his arm around her. Which was maybe the most dangerous photo of it all.

She stared at it a beat too long.

Bucky leaned in. "Did we pass?"

"With flying colors." Mel murmured, quickly sending it to Val as proof.

He gave a small snort, and then stepped back, running a hand through his hair. "Send me the good one, you know for the scrapbook Yelena and Ava are compiling."

She laughed. "I'll print it for the fridge."

He chuckled and smiled down at her, it almost made her forget what they were about to walk into. "Ready now?"

Mel gave a breathy laugh and nodded, slipping her phone into her purse. "Let's go. Just...brace yourself. Remember our facts."

Bucky opened the door for her, that same infuriating smirk playing on his lips. "It's gonna be fun, don't worry."

Mel's Grandparent's house
Mel
——————
Warm lighting spilled from the windows of the brick home. The familiar smell of fresh food, and a sweet aroma wafted out of the front door the moment it opened.

"Meliiii!" a chorus of voices cried out as Mel stepped inside, Bucky beside her.

She barely had time to take off her shoes before she was engulfed in hugs, kisses on the cheek, clucks of concern about her injury, and one aunt already dabbing her with essential oils.

Bucky lingered by the door, uncertain. That lasted all of five seconds.

"Bucky!" Nani said, sweeping in like a regal hurricane. "Come in, beta, come in! Don't be shy, we don't bite."

Her cousin Sarah perked up from the group. "Except maybe me." she added with a wink.

Mel shot her a mortified look and gave Bucky an apologetic one but she was cut off by Nana holding out a tray of samosas.

She watched helplessly as her grandparents ushered Bucky into the kitchen like he'd belonged there.

He gave her a sideways glance as he passed, eyes wide, but also a little entertained.

Mel mouthed, I warned you.

He just grinned.

——————
Despite having arrived together, Mel and Bucky were constantly swept into separate conversations. Every time she spotted him across the room, another relative would intercept her, asking how she'd been, how work was going, how tall she'd gotten as if she wasn't almost thirty and hadn't grown vertically in years.

Finally, after weaving her way through the chatter, overlapping auntie gossip, and dodging her brothers's teasing. The living room was mostly cleared out, older relatives migrating toward the desert.

That was when she heard it.

Giggling.

Tiny, unfiltered, gremlin laughter drifting from the back den.

Mel rounded the corner.

There he was.

Bucky sitting cross-legged on the floor. Her youngest nephew perched proudly on his shoulders, tiny hands patting his head like he was a jungle gym. Two more gathered at his feet, poking at his vibranium arm with wide eyes and absolutely zero boundaries.

"Does it shoot lasers?" Her nephew, Nate, asked seriously.

"No, but it can open stubborn pickle jars," Bucky replied solemnly.

Mel choked on a laugh.

Her niece, clung to his bicep with both arms. "Are you a real superhero?"

"I dunno," he said, glancing down at her little face. "Are you a real superhero?"

"Nooo!" She giggled, delighted.

Mel watched from the hallway, heart melting against her will.

He wasn't just being kind, he was being gentle. Patient in a way she'd only seen glimpses of. Like he'd done this before. Like he wanted to again.

Her stomach twisted.

This was temporary, fake. The kids would forget about him within the next year. But she couldn't help that watching him like this felt so devastatingly real.

"Aunty Mel!" Her nephew Roman spotted her before she could retreat.

He barreled toward her on tiny legs and latched onto her shin with a triumphant squeal.

Bucky glanced up, immediately spotting her in the doorway. A hint of pink crept up his neck. He looked almost sheepish, caught mid-toddler jungle gym like he'd been busted. "Hey," he said, waving slightly, careful not to dislodge the child still clinging to his shoulders.

Mel smiled, crossing the room as Roman kept a tight hold on her leg. "So this is where you disappeared to."

"Was ambushed." Bucky said, "didn't stand a chance."

Nate beamed, puffing his chest out. "We took down a superhero."

Mel sat carefully, cross-legged beside them with a soft laugh. She reached out to brush a lock of hair from her niece's face. "You've all got him surrounded, you're doing a great job."

"Aunt Mel?" Her niece Talia looked up at her, eyes wide with the gravity of discovery, "did you know his arm was made of metal?"

Mel gasped. "No way! It is?"

Talia nodded excitedly. "Yup it also opens pickle jars."

Bucky huffed a laugh, low and embarrassed, as Mel bit back her own grin. "Wow," she said, leaning in like it was classified intel. "Sounds like you've got a real tough one on your hands."

Talia and the others beamed proudly giggling amongst themselves.

"Alright troops." Mel ruffled Roman's hair. "Let's give Bucky back his personal space."

"But he's fun!" Nate protested hugging onto Bucky's other arm.

"Yeah, and I'd like him back in one piece thanks," Mel said, stepping to lift the little one down off of Bucky's shoulders and placing him onto her uninjured hip.

Once the last set of tiny hands let go of him, she straightened. "Okay Nana has desert ready in the kitchen. First come, first serve."

That was all it took. The herd of kids bolted from the den in a blur. The little one wiggling from Mel's arms to join them. She turned to Bucky who was slightly more rumpled than usual but smiled fondly as the last kid scrambled out of the room.

Mel shook her head at him. "I warned you didn't I?"

He smirked. "Nah, they're sweet. Reminds me of my sister when she was little." The words seemed to surprise him as much as they did her, his expression flickering, not sad exactly, but caught in some far off place.

Mel's smile softened. "I bet you were a good brother."

Bucky glanced at her, almost like he was about to say something more, then just gave a small shrug. "Tried to be."

Before she could respond, her Nana's voice rang out from the kitchen calling everyone in for dessert.

Mel held out her hand. "C'mon before they send a search party."

Bucky took it without hesitation, his palm warm and steady against hers. He didn't need help getting to his feet, but he let her all the same. For a brief strange moment, it felt like...they were just a couple leaving some cozy corner to rejoin the party.

The dining room was already buzzing again, the table crowded with platters of dessert. Plates clinked, spoons scraped, and the smell of cinnamon wrapped around them like a blanket.

Thankfully, Mel no longer had to sit at the kids table. They joined the big table sitting across from one another. She'd barely settled into her chair before her cousin Sarah slid into the chair beside Mel, eyes glittering with mischief.

"So..." She started conspiratorially. "I need to know, have you two...y'know." She wiggled her eyebrows in a way that made her question even less subtle.

Mel's face went nuclear. "Sarah!" She hissed, planting both hands on her cousin's shoulders as if physical constraint could shut her up.

Across the table Bucky was mid-conversation with Mel's older brothers, until his ears clearly caught that, because his head tilted ever so slightly in their direction, lips pressing together to fight a smile.

"What?" Sarah scoffed. "I'm curious! It's not everyday you bring home a ruggedly handsome superhero." She leaned in with a smirk on her lips. "Plus I wanna know what that arm can do—"

Across the table Bucky choked on his drink and Mel forced herself to believe that was just coincidence.

"Jesus Christ!" Mel hissed, her face a deep scarlet. "Keep your voice down!"

Before Sarah could push her luck any further, Nani's voice ran out from the living room. "Meli! Come here, look what we've found!"

Mel blew out a breath. That tone was never good.

Sure enough, by the time Mel walked in, the entire living room had gathered around the TV, on screen—her fourteen year-old self, braces and all, was in the middle of an over-enthusiastic solo from her high school chorus days.

Mel froze. "No. No no no—"

"Look at you!" Nana said proudly from his armchair. "Our little songbird!"

The room erupted with laughter and gentle teasing. Bucky had wandered in behind her just in time to catch the video, his lips twitching as he tried to smother a smile.

"I didn't know you could sing," he said, low enough that only she could hear.

"I don't sing." Mel muttered shaking her head.

"Mm," he countered, still watching the screen. "I don't believe that."

She gave him a sidelong glance. His eyes were locked on the TV. A fond, faraway look, and a soft smile on his lips.

Her heart stuttered in her chest.

——————
By the time the videos ended and coats were gathered, Mel's cheeks had finally cooled from the burn of humiliation. Bucky had insisted on helping with the dishes, rolling up his sleeves like there wasn't anywhere he'd rather be, while Mel busied herself cleaning the table. She as halfway back from the dining room when a soft hand curled around her wrist.

"Mel," her Nani said, her voice warm enough to melt stone, "I'm so happy for you beta."

Mel tilted her head, caught off guard. "Happy for me?"

Her grandmother's gaze drifted past her, toward the kitchen. Bucky stood at the sink, shoulders relaxed, head bent slightly as her Nana diverted him with a story from years before. He was listening, really listening, and there was that faint, crooked smile on his face like he was with an old friend.

"You two...well you remind me a lot of Nani and I when we were young."

"Oh?" Mel blinked, her breath catching in her throat.

Her Nani's smile deepened as she glanced back at her husband, still in deep conversation with Bucky. "There's a steadiness between you. Even in the little moments. That's rare beta."

Mel opened her mouth but Nani went on. "Life will give you noise, work, troubles, people who come and go. But the person who makes the noise fade the moment they walk in? That's the one worth holding on to." Her soft hand cupped Mel's cheek. "I'm so proud of you Meli, and you deserve something great."

Mel's throat tightened instantly The truth rose, bitter and unwelcome. It's not real Nani, this is all pretend. But the words caught in her chest. She could see how her grandmother's eyes shone when she looked at them, how the entire family had pulled him in like he'd always been a part of it.

Saying the truth would snap something fragile and beautiful in an instant. And Mel couldn't bear to be the one to do it.

So she gave her grandmother a soft smile, a nod, and tried to hide the unshed tears pricking at her vision. "Thank you, Nani."

Her grandmother's fingers gave her wrist a gentle squeeze before letting go. "I know that brain of yours is always working, but don't overthink it beta, enjoy it."

If only she could.

Mel lingered for half a second longer, eyes flicking toward the kitchen. Bucky was still there, sleeves rolled, moving without hesitation like he'd known this kitchen all his life. He looked up briefly and caught her watching. And the smile he gave her, small, unguarded...it was something she knew she'd dream of long after tonight was over, long after it was all over.

She looked away first.

——————
They said their goodbyes on the front porch, leftovers pressed into Mel's hands and her Nana clapping Bucky on the shoulder like they'd known each other for years. Laughter followed them down the walkway, warm light spilling from the doorway into the chilly night.

Bucky was still smiling as they slid into the car, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the faint hum of the radio. "Your family's great," he said as he backed out of the driveway.

Mel forced a small smile. "Yeah. Thanks again for coming with me tonight."

He glanced over at her warmly. "Thanks for letting me." He chuckled, clearly replaying the events of the night in his head, but the sound faded as the miles ticked by.

Bucky
——————
She was too quiet. Not the content, comfortable quiet he'd come to recognize with her. This was different. She was...closed off, festering. Like she was holding something back.

"You've been quiet," he said finally, keeping his tone light.

"I'm just tired," She said quickly.

Bullshit.

His hands curled tighter around the wheel. Had he said something? Done something? She would tell him if he'd screwed up...wouldn't she?

"Mel..." His voice softened, careful. "You can tell me if something's wrong. You know that, right?"

Her eyes stayed on the blur of streetlights beyond the passenger window. "I know."

And maybe he imagined it, but he thought he saw her swipe at her cheek.

"Thanks Bucky."

That was it. No explanation.

He glanced over again, searching for...something, then faced forward. His jaw flexed with building anxiety. The urge to push rose sharp in his chest, to pull over right there, to wait until she told him what was going through her head. But he stayed quiet. Maybe she just needed space. He frantically tried to recall every communication tactic his therapist had used with him, but it all flew out the window.

Still, the silence clawed at him, and within it, it was too easy to believe this was him. That she'd finally seen whatever it was other people saw before they pulled away. What Steve had seen, then Sam, and now...

It had been a mistake to attend the dinner. He'd foolishly let it slip, let the lines blur, let himself enjoy it a little too much.

When they finally pulled into the garage, he cut the engine but didn't move to get up right away. "You sure you're okay?"

She unbuckled her seatbelt, the smile she gave him thin and brittle, like it had been stretched over something breaking.  "I'm fine. Really."

He nodded like he believed her, but the knot in his chest told him otherwise.

Mel
——————
Mel slipped out of the car before the silence could swallow them whole. If she looked at him again, she might change her mind. She knew what she had to do, but did she have the strength to do it?

Notes:

let's just pretend that gun wounds can heal within a week😛 also sorry for the angst guys it will be worth it I promise🙏

Chapter 16: Sparks

Thunderbolts HQ
Bucky
——————
Bucky wasn't sure he'd actually fallen asleep the night before. Not because he'd decided to pull an all-nighter—that was the kind of thing he only did on missions—but because his brain simply refused to shut off.

He kept replaying the sound of her voice, the guarded look she'd worn before walking away. It was a look he knew all too well, just never from her, and he'd never thought she'd direct it at him.

The question that gnawed at him was simple and impossible all at once: what had changed? Between the start and the end of the night? What had she heard? What had he done? He couldn't even console himself with the thought of innocence. A cleaner man might've been able to. But the blood on his ledger, it was all too easy to believe the problem started with him.

When a reminder for his therapy session pinged on his phone, he didn't know whether to feel relieved or irritated. He knew that facing his feelings head on was the smartest way to go, learned that from years, different therapists, and countless sessions. But right now, the last thing he needed was someone calmly pointing out the obvious.

The first streaks of sunrise cut across the skyline outside his window, and he let out a groan. So much for getting any sleep

Dr. Raynor's Office
Bucky
——————
Bucky sat stiffly on the leather chair. Arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes fixed on the tissue box in front of him.

Dr.Raynor flipped open her notebook, clicked her pen once, and leveled him that pointed, unblinking stare.

"Rough night?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "Couldn't sleep."

"Nightmares?"

"Not exactly." He said gruffly.

Dr.Raynor clicked her pen. "Last time we spoke, you had just been thrust into this—PR relationship was it? How's that going?"

Bucky gave a short, flat laugh. "Depends on who you ask."

Raynor jotted something down. "I'm asking you."

He shifted on the cushion, metal fingers drumming on his bicep. "It was going fine."

Her brow lifted. "Was?"

He looked away, jaw tightening. "She...shut me out. It was all going fine, and then she just...went quiet."

Raynor stayed quiet for a moment letting that hang in the air. "Sounds like it bothers you."

"Of course it does." He bit out, harsher than he intended.

Raynor leaned back, eyes still on him. "Tell me more about what happened leading up to this...shut-off."

He shrugged one shoulder. "We went to her family's dinner. We were fine. Then, as soon as we get in the car, she's...distant. I asked if she was okay but her only response was fine."

Her lips twitched slightly. "Sounds familiar."

Bucky fought the urge to glare.

Raynor leaned forward, folding her hands in her lap. "So what did you do next?"

He fiddled with his metal hand, the rhythm nervous. "I didn't push. Didn't want to make it worse."

Raynor let out a breath. "Listen, you like the girl don't you?"

Bucky's gaze shot up, startled. "I mean—"

The doctor raised brow. "C'mon James."

He ran a hand through his hair and looked down again. "Yeah... Of course I do."

Raynor nodded, her hard gaze softening just slightly. "And we both know you don't let people in easily. So, when you do, and it matters—like this seems to—you can't just shut down because something feels off. That's the quickest way to lose them."

"Easier said than done." He grumbled, shifting in his seat.

"It can be as easy as you make it." She said, pen still in hand. "You either keep guessing at what she's thinking, or you give her the chance to tell you."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "If it's something I did..."

"If it's something you did, you can address it," she interrupted. "If it's not, you can stop torturing yourself. Either way, staying quiet gets you nowhere."

"What if she doesn't want to talk?"

Raynor tapped her pen against her notebook. "From what you've told me about her? I doubt she'd blatantly ignore you."

He gave her a look, she met it without flinching.

"Look," she said, exhaling slowly. "You've spent years trying to be a better man. So be better now. Be honest with her. If you can't own it, say it out loud...how can you expect her to?"

He swallowed hard. The truth settling like a stone in his stomach. "I don't even know if she feels the same way."

Raynor nodded slowly. "Well that's the risk isn't it?" She set down her notebook with a sigh. "I'm not going to give you false hope. She might not feel the same. But moving forward with that 'what if?' hanging over your head? That's no way to live."

Bucky let the words sink in, a flicker of something cautiously hopeful stirring under the weight of doubt.

Once the session had ended, he rose from the chair, stiff-legged, still feeling the weight of Dr.Raynor's words pressing in his chest. He didn't exactly feel lighter, but...less trapped. Less like he had to wait for the unknown to hit him first.

He ran a hand over his face, inhaling slowly, then exhaled. Be honest. Own it. Give her the chance to tell you.

The thought lingered, and for the first time in hours, maybe days, his chest didn't feel like a cage. The image of her in his mind wasn't a mocking presence of something he couldn't have. There was fear, sure—the constant knot in his stomach—but there was something else creeping in. Something fragile and dangerous. Hope.

By the time he slid into the driver's seat of the car outside the clinic, his hands were still trembling slightly. His phone screen lit up in the cup-holder beside him, a message from Val to their Thunderbolts group chat she'd insisted on having. Tonight, the team had another gala to attend. And of course, Mel would be there. Naturally, they'd be expected to attend together.

He told himself he was ready. That he could take Dr.Raynor's advice and see where this went. Maybe he'd chicken out and it would be just another night of PR smiles and staged interactions. Maybe it would be something else entirely.

He started the engine, letting the low hum vibrate under his hands. Maybe tonight, he didn't have to wait in the dark. Maybe tonight he could try.

And maybe, just maybe, she'd surprise him.

Thunderbolts HQ
Mel
——————
The moment she stepped out of Val's office she felt as though she could crumble to the floor. Although her head told her what she'd done was right, she couldn't shake the building guilt clawing its way through her chest. Why did she feel guilty? This made the most sense for everyone involved. This is what would keep things from descending into a mess even she couldn't pick up.

She could feel her stress induced eye-twitch revving back to life.

By the time she'd reached her room, her head was throbbing and her throat felt tight with tears that wouldn't come.

She shut the door behind her and leaned against it, staring at the ceiling like it might offer her an answer. Her heels pinched and her pony tail was tugging at her scalp. Her dress for tonight hung on the back of her chair, tags intact, a reminder of the role she still needed to play tonight.

Kicking off her heels, she pressed her palms to her eyes until stars danced in the darkness. It was the right call. Tonight she would just have to pretend as she'd been doing. Pretend nothing had shifted between them. Pretend her heart didn't stutter every time he softly said her name.

But pretending hurt.

With a sigh she crossed the room and unzipped the garment bag. The satin pooled like water in her hands—fiery red. It was a good color, had a flattering shape to it. Another gala and another night of smiling until her cheeks hurt and skillfully diverting from questions she couldn't answer. But this time, she'd have Bucky. The thought made her heart swell and her stomach hurt all at once.

She set the dress aside and sat on the edge of her bed. Her phone lit up with a message from Yelena and Ava's groupchat.

Y : hair and makeup in my room in 30

Another ping.

Y : also I stole champagne 🙏

Mel huffed a weak laugh. Maybe if she focused on Yelena and Ava's company, on keeping cameras happy—she could get through the night without thinking about the inevitable.

Yelena's Room
Mel
——————
By the time Mel knocked, she could already hear laughter spilling from the other side of the door.

Yelena yanked it open, barefoot, hair in little rollers, clutching an open bottle of champagne like a trophy. "You're late."

"I'm five minutes early."

Yelena rolled her eyes a smile playing on her lips. "Get in here." She grabbed her by the wrist and tugged her inside. Ava was perched on the bed in a silk robe, hair in matching curlers, scrolling through her phone with one hand, and holding a champagne flute with the other.

"Your stylist awaits," Ava deadpanned, raising her glass toward Yelena.

The blonde shoved a flute into Mel's hand before she could argue. "Sit. I'm doing your hair." Mel couldn't find it in herself to argue, and Yelena was surprisingly good with cosmetics. She set her garment bag on the bed before Yelena hastily pulled her towards her vanity.

Mel took a cautious sip from her glass. The champagne was bubbly and slightly warm, but she couldn't deny the fizz took the edge off her spiking nerves. She might even need a couple more just to get through the night.

Pop music thumped from the speaker on her nightstand as Yelena gathered her hair with practiced, quick motions.

Ava set down her phone, leaning back on the bed. "Okay, we need to know how the dinner went last night."

Mel's stomach flipped. "It was really nice actually."

She wished she was lying, maybe if it had been bad she wouldn't care as much.

Yelena's brows rose, shooting Ava a pointed look in the mirror. "Really?"

Mel shrugged slightly, trying not to move as Yelena continued with her handiwork. "Yeah, my family really likes him."

"Okay so why do you look like someone died?" Ava's eyes widened. "Wait—shit did someone die?"

"No! No." Mel quickly waved her hands. "It's just..."

She hesitated, fingers twisting in her lap. Who was she kidding? They could probably read her from a mile away.

Finally, she exhaled. "It felt too...real."

Ava and Yelena's jaws dropped in unison, and then—

"Oh my god," Yelena gasped, clutching the curling wand for dear life. "You're finally admitting it!"

Ava shot upright on the bed. "Holy shit, this is happening!"

Mel groaned, covering her face with one hand, forcing out her next words. "Which is why I asked Valentina to end the fake dating."

The room went dead silent.

"I'm sorry, you what?" Yelena froze, her voice a dangerous blend of confusion and outrage.

Mel's chest tightened under their stares. She shook her head, words tumbling out faster now. "The lines were blurring, and I can't—" She swallowed hard. "I couldn't go on like that."

Yelena set the curler down with a thud. "Mel, no. That's—no. You don't just...cut it off because it starts to feel real."

Ava shook her head in disbelief.

Mel shifted uncomfortably in the chair. "I was trying to protect us, keep him from bearing the responsibility. This was never supposed to—"

"Never supposed to what? Make you happy?" Yelena shot back, leaning down so she could meet Mel's eyes in the mirror. "Because newsflash, you looked happier these last few weeks than I've ever seen you. Gun wound and all."

Mel's throat felt too dry. "It's not that simple, it doesn't matter what I feel."

"It is that simple." Yelena insisted, crossing her arms. "You like him. He likes you. The end."

Mel looked up at her incredulously. "You don't know that."

At this, Ava chimed in. "Have you seen the way he looks at you?"

Mel's face flushed. "I mean—"

"He looks at you like he's memorizing you for the day you decide to disappear."  Yelena interjected, brow arched.

Mel pressed her lips together, staring down at her hands. The last thing she wanted was hope creeping in where it didn't belong.

Ava approached and topped off Mel's champagne flute to the point surface tension was the only thing keeping it from spilling into her lap. "Look, you don't have to figure it out tonight. But don't slam the door on him just because you're scared feeling something good."

"Doesn't feel too good." Mel muttered under her breath.

Ava didn't bite. "Just go to the gala, smile for the cameras, let him orbit you like he always does. Worst case? You both finish this PR stunt and nothing comes of it. Best case..." She smirked knowingly. "Maybe it wouldn't have to be fake anymore."

Mel nodded thoughtfully, taking a bigger swig than necessary. "Okay...yeah, you're right."

"Duh." Yelena shook her head, picking the curling wand back up. "Now chin up before I accidentally burn your ear off."

Mel obeyed, still gripping her champagne flute like it was a lifeline. It didn't take long until Yelena was twisting and neatly pining back the last section of hair and applying the last swipe of lipstick.

Mel hardly recognized herself in the mirror. Half of her hair was pinned back, joining the rest in cascading curls down her shoulders, her eyeliner sharp, and deep red lips to match the dress.

Yelena was a goddamn magician.

"Holy shit you're good." Mel breathed, sitting forward to further examine the artwork on her face.

Yelena shrugged a small smirk tugging at her lips. "Yeah I know. Now it's your turn." She swiveled, pointing an accusing finger at Ava.

When the last bit of makeup had been applied, and the last bobby pin set in place, they all looked magazine ready.

Mel just hoped the confidence boost was enough to pull her through. She took one last sip of champagne to steady the firework of nerves in her chest.

"Alright, let's do this." She squared her shoulders, set down the flute with a determined thud and followed her friends to the elevator.

Notes:

sorry for the shorter chapter but YAYY CONFESSION TIMEEE

Chapter 17: The Gala Pt.1

Thunderbolts HQ
Bucky
——————
Bucky only owned three decent suits and it still took him an hour to decide what to wear. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this nervous to be around a woman. If he weren't so focused on making sure his hair looked half-way decent, he might've laughed at himself.

He didn't give a shit how he looked for the cameras, never really had, but he took extra time tonight. Fussing with his tie until it was just right. Because if she noticed...it would be worth it.

He was the first to reach the lobby on time. Slowly the others trickled in. Bob arrived with a small wave and chipper attitude. It was good to see him coming along. Walker and Alexi trickled in. The older man hunched over at Walker's phone as the younger explained online dating.

Bucky grimaced. He didn't want to know what kind of advice Walker was giving, let alone what Alexi might decide to do with it.

That left them waiting for the women. Normally, he wouldn't have cared, but every passing minute chipped away at the shaky bit of confidence Dr.Raynor had helped him dig up.

"They always do this." Walker groaned, rolling his eyes.

"I can call Yelena." Bob offered helpfully, not the slightest bit bothered.

"No need!"

Yelena's voice cut cleanly across the lobby. Three sets of heels clicking against the marble floor.

"Hey! You made it!" Alexi's voice boomed a celebratory greeting, clapping his hands together.

Bucky caught a flicker of red behind Yelena and Ava. His breath snagged in his lungs.

Mel.

The sheer sight of her nearly stole the ground beneath him. Her long black hair spilled in curls down her back, half pinned with a few curls framing her face. Her dress, a deep red, sharp as firelight, looked like it had been made just for her.

Everything about her was glowing, at least to him.

"Let's get this show on the road." Walker shook his head already heading for the limo waiting out front.

As Yelena and Ava passed he could've sworn they exchanged a knowing glance with Mel before smoothing their expressions back into innocence. He hadn't realized he'd hung back, waiting, until Mel was suddenly beside him at the rear of the group.

"You look nice." She started, a small smile on her red lips.

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. She's saying that to me?

"You look..." Nice? Pretty? Good? Great? His mind scrambled until honesty pushed past the noise. "Beautiful."

Honesty. Honesty is good. Not terrifying. He reminded himself as Mel's eyes flicked up at him, startled but not displeased. There was something there, something he couldn't quite name before she huffed a small laugh and smoothed down the front of her dress.

"Thank you. I was worried Yelena had overdone it on the makeup."

"No, not at all." Ok. Cool it Romeo. He caught himself and held the door open as they followed the others out.

She seemed steadier than she had after their last encounter, though a littler shyer than usual. He held out hope that it wasn't because of him, but a small part of him worried despite Dr.Raynor's advice.

He'd talk to her tonight. get it straightened out. And maybe, if he was feeling brave, divulge his feelings as well.

Bucky moved to follow her into the limo and froze a half a second too long. As Mel moved before him to step inside, he caught sight of the dip in the fabric of her dress. Stopping just above her waist. His hand flexed involuntarily at his side, phantom memory telling him exactly where it would rest if he so much as guided her through a door.

Backless. Of course it had to be backless.

His jaw tightened, forcing his eyes elsewhere, but the image branded itself behind his eyelids anyway. The bare stretch of skin between Mel's shoulders and down her spine.

With a muttered prayer under his breath, he slid into the seat beside her. He kept his posture deliberately casual while the others popped open the complimentary champagne and passed flutes around. Yelena offered one to Mel with an unmistakable wink.

Mel flushed, taking the glass immediately and offering one to Bucky.

He shook his head. "I'm good, thanks."

"Oh! Right, sorry." Mel shook her head, quickly handing it off to Walker.

"It's alright." He gave her a faint smile, lowering his voice so that it was almost swallowed by the hum of conversation. "Really."

The team's chatter rose around them, champagne fizzing, music thumping low through hidden speakers. Bucky stayed quiet, listening, though every shift of Mel's shoulder brushing against his sleeve pulled at his focus. She smelled faintly of vanilla under the sharp perfume of the limo leather and Walker's cologne.

He caught himself holding his breath when Yelena leaned over Ava's lap just enough to mutter something to Mel that made her laugh, cheeks still pink. The sound curled hot in his chest, he found himself grinning before he even realized it.

Alexi, meanwhile, was fiddling with his phone, squinting at the screen. "How do you swipe again? Left for wife? Right for girlfriend?"

Walker nearly spit out his champagne, Bob choking on his drink.

"Dad!" Yelena yelled half-heartedly.

Bucky shook his head, but the tension in his limbs eased a little. The noise, the laughter, the teasing, it all blurred together. For a rare moment, this all felt right.

Still, when the car slowed and the glitter of camera flashes began to strobe through the tinted windows, his nerves coiled tight again.

He glanced at Mel. Her posture shifted, he could see her PR mask sliding into place as she smoothed her hands down her dress.

Without thinking, he leaned in closer, his voice pitched low for her alone. "Don't worry, we've got this."

Her gaze flicked up to his, lips parted in surprise, a slight smile tugging at the corners. She gave a determined nod.

Someone swung the door open. The world roared with screaming voices and camera shutters. Before he knew it, his hand was holding hers and he was stepping out of the limo.

He didn't think it could get any louder, but it did. The crowd surged at the sight of them, photographers shouting over one another, voices tangling into an indecipherable roar. With one hand braced on the door, the other firmly clasping hers, he watched in a daze as Mel stepped out onto the carpeted walkway.

The flashes illuminated her, catching every detail. The sparkle of her jewelry, the gloss on her lips, the delicate curl of her hair spilling over her shoulder. For a moment, he forgot he was the one holding her hand. Forgot he was the one that got to walk beside her.

She paused instinctively at the step, the hem of her dress pooling dangerously close to the car doorframe. Before she could even glance down, Bucky was there. Crouching slightly, gathering the fabric and spreading it neatly behind her like it was second nature.

The crowd loved it, the volume doubled.

"Barnes! Look this way!"
"Mel! Give us a spin!"
"Give us one together! Closer!"

Mel blinked under the strobe of lights, beneath her mask, she was clearly startled. Her gaze turned to him, eyes widening slightly. He gave her the faintest shrug, just roll with it, it said. He caught a smirk growing over her lips before she slipped her free hand onto his arm, the tiniest press of reassurance for the both of them.

The cameras ate it alive.

He swallowed. Hard.

They moved forward in step, the others following behind. The air around them felt electric, every flash felt as though they were looking right through him. Like they could see how natural it felt for him to hold her hand. How easy it was to angle his body closer to hers, how she'd look up at him with a laugh like she'd forgotten anyone was watching.

"Barnes, give her a kiss! One for the camera!" Someone shouted.

Mel's mouth fell open slightly in disbelief. She turned to him, a breathless little laugh slipping out, half-mortified, half-amused. "They're relentless."

He didn't trust his voice, so he bent instead, lifting her hand and brushing his lips across her knuckles. The movement so fluid, so instinctive it shocked even himself. He knew that wasn't exactly what the photographers meant, but it was what they were getting.

The press erupted.

Mel's laugh faltered into something softer, caught between nerves and disbelief, as her gaze locked with his. For a heartbeat too long it was just the two of them in the chaos.  Her wide brown eyes, his stomach in a constant state of flipping. He could've bowed there the whole night drinking in the sight of her.

But he forced himself to straighten.

"Okay lovebirds, inside before they break the barricade." Yelena breezed past them with smirk, sharp and teasing.

Mel flushed, tugging gently at his hand pulling him forward. He let her.

Gala Center
Mel
—————
It was easy. She'd been attending these things since Val first pulled her into this career. She'd coached people on how to survive them, what angles to favor, when to laugh, how to make a "no comment" sound charming. She'd just never expected she'd be the one walking the carpet, much less on the arm of Bucky Barnes.

His hand was still warm in hers, his solid presence anchoring her as the two of them stepped deeper into the gauntlet of flashing bulbs. Every shout from the crowd, every barked question, felt sharper. It felt as though they could see right through her careful armor.

"Over the shoulder sweetheart!" One photographer yelled.

"Hold him closer! Give us a smile!" Another barked.

Her face ached with the effort of keeping her expression bright and effortless. She tilted slightly toward Bucky, the way she'd coached others before. Her free hand brushed the edge of his jacket like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Almost there." She murmured, lips barely moving as she kept her smile fixed.

Bucky leaned down just enough for only her to hear, voice low and gravelly. "You're doing great."

Her stomach dipped slightly. "We're doing great." She corrected.

"Sure." He grinned, actually grinned, down at her as they walked through the doors. She hoped her blush tint could cover the heat rising to her cheeks.

The room ahead of them glittered like someone had cracked open a diamond and scattered the shards as decoration. Crystal chandeliers cast warm light over tuxedos and jewel-tones gowns, the soft hum of strings barely carrying over the murmur of donors and the clinking of glasses. Camera's still hovered near the corners, always hungry, but here the game was subtler.

Mel plastered back on her best PR smile, arm curled around Bucky's like a lifeline. She'd been to enough of these to know that survival meant circulation. Five minutes at a table, two minutes at a handshake, keep moving.

The first few minutes consisted of handshakes, careful pleasantries, and the occasional exchange of air kisses. Mel was surprised to find Bucky didn't need much guidance, just a quiet nudge or soft cue here and there. It was fluid, easy even. But when she spotted Mr.Blackhaven weaving toward them, she braced herself.

A longtime member of Val's group, and one of their top donors. Blackhaven was in his late seventies leaning on a polished cane with one hand cradling a glass of something in the other. His smile was sharp, the kind all Val's business partners seemed to wear.

"Well, well," he drawled as he reached them, eyes sweeping from Mel to Bucky and back again. "Ms.Gold, pleasure to see you again, and this must be the famous Sergeant Barnes. Always a shock to see you so domesticated." He laughed, Mel's smile strained. His gaze lingered a little too long on their joined hands before continuing. "Tell me Ms.Gold what's your secret? Taming the Winter Soldier."

Mel's stomach twisted, heat of embarrassment and frustration prickled up her neck. She could feel Bucky's arm tense under hers. She forced her best airy, diplomatic laugh. "Oh I wouldn't say tame, Mr.Blackhaven, we both have our chances to look out for the other. I just make sure he shows up to the right places on time."

Blackhaven chuckled, but his eyes remained shrewd, waiting for more. Mel opened her mouth, the beginnings of another polished quip ready—

"Actually," Bucky said smoothly, squeezing her arm just slightly, "her secret is putting up with me. And she's very good at it."

Mel blinked, startled at how effortlessly the words rolled off his tongue, how natural the warmth in his voice sounded. He had been a congressman for a while, she reminded herself. Blackhaven laughed, apparently satisfied, but before he could launch into another probing question, Bucky tilted his head toward the string quartet.

"Speaking of which..." he said turning back to Mel, "...I should probably make it up to her. Care to dance?"

Her heart gave a sharp, traitorous skip. "Dance?"

"Why not? Others are doing it." His smirk was soft but steady, and the look in his eyes was almost enough to make her forget the dozens of eyes still on them.

Blackhaven gave an approving nod, before walking off. "A true gentleman, take care."

Mel managed another diplomatic laugh, but her pulse hammered as Bucky led her toward the floor. Ahead of them Alexi had already roped Yelena into dancing with him, the sight would've been sweet if Mel wasn't so preoccupied with calming her nerves.

"Bucky." She mumbled tugging him down slightly so he could hear her. "Good save, but I...don't know how to dance."

He slowed as they reached the edge of the floor, the corners of his mouth twitching. "Lucky for you," he murmured, lowering his voice so it rumbled right against her ear, "I do."

Her eyes widened. "Since when?"

"Since the forties, probably earlier." He said as it it were obvious. "Back then, this was survival. You wanted a girl to like you, you had to know your way around the dance floor."

She almost laughed, almost, except his hand was already snaking around her waist, stopping just before the fabric dipped off. His touch seemed to hesitate there for a moment before carefully guiding her into position.

"Relax," he added softly his voice rough. He cleared his throat, meeting her eyes with a half-smile that made her stomach flip. "All you have to do is follow me."

The musicians in the corner started up a new song, the music swelling around them, bright and steady. Mel's pulse was a frantic staccato in her throat, but when he stepped forward, she found her hand caught easily in his.

The first few steps were awkward. She was stiff, her arm hooked tightly around his shoulder, hand gripping his as if he might vanish if she let go.

"Mel," he said lowly, like he was coaxing a skittish animal. "Breathe."

Her laugh came out strangled. "Easy for you to say."

"Not really." His smirked curved just enough to tease, but his eyes, focused, didn't waver. "You're stepping on my toes, you know."

She gasped, gaze shooting down. "I am not." She was.

"You are." His voice dropped closer to her ear, amusement threading through his words. "Fortunately, I've had worse."

Heat rose to her cheeks before she could stop it, and she forced her gaze up to meet his. Mistake. His expression was softer than she'd expected, like he wasn't just keeping her from tripping but actually enjoying this.

"See?" He said tugging her a little closer to keep her from bumping into another couple.  "You're already better."

She tried to scoff but the sound tangled with her laugh, shaky and warm. Somehow her body had stopped fighting the rhythm, letting him guide her. The noise of the gala faded low beneath the hum of the strings.

"Ready?" He whispered, eyes crinkled with amusement.

"Ready for wh—"

A startled laugh escaped her, swallowed by the music and chatter as he spun her. The hem of her dress flared in a red whirl, as she nearly tripped out of her heels.

Bucky caught her easily, one hand firm at her waist, grounding her as she stumbled a little back into him. His lips quirked, that maddening, knowing half-smile she so rarely saw.

God. She no longer had any doubts that he had been a heartbreaker back in his era.

"Not so bad right?" He asked as if she hadn't nearly landed flat on the marble.

She shot him a glare, cheeks hot but her pulse betrayed her, fluttering unevenly as his thumb brushed against the fabric at her waist. "A little warning next time wouldn't kill you."

"Nah." He said smoothly, guiding her into another turn, this one slower. "What's the fun in that?"

The music swelled, strings filling the room in bright waves. His gaze stayed firmly locked on hers, and suddenly, the rest of the gala blurred into static at the edges.

Don't get your hopes up, she reminded herself.

"You're a fast learner." His tone softened, his smirk easing into something gentler. Something almost proud.

She swallowed hard. Her job had always been about managing perception, keeping smiles polished and words calculated. But here, on the dance floor, with his hands steady at her back and his gaze holding hers, she felt stripped of every mask she'd ever worn.

It was terrifying.

"Bucky..." She started, not even sure what she meant to say.

Bucky
——————
He hadn't meant to, but when his hand lost purchase on waist, he went to put it back and...His hand splayed flat against her back, missing the fabric and laying right against her bare skin. He swore the heat of her burned through his palm.

He'd been careful the whole time, keeping his touches respectful and his gaze averted, but there was no ignoring it now. He could feel the delicate dip of her spine, smooth beneath his fingers, every subtle shift of her breath brushing through his hand like a current.

Her breath hitched, he felt it.

For a selfish moment, he was glad it was his flesh hand, he could feel her.

"Yeah?" He rasped, voice coming out lower than intended.

Her chest pressed into his as the crowd shifted, the music pulling them closer in time. He forced himself to breathe, to move them gently in rhythm instead of locking up like some kid at his first dance.

Mel
——————
It had to be illegal. This. Him. Looking down at her like that, hand burning against her skin. It was both grounding and maddening, her pulse skittered with every subtle shift of his thumb. His voice rumbled low, waiting for her response.

Her mouth went dry.

"Mel!"

Val's voice cut through the music with her too casual cheer.

Mel's head snapped around, stepping back as if she were about to be told to 'leave room for Jesus'. Her eyes went wide. "Yes?"

"Have you forgotten?" Val's smile strained threateningly. "I have to give a speech in ten minutes." Her gaze flicked down like a blade. "You do have my notes right?"

Mel's stomach lurched "Yes! Yes, I—Of course I do." She flashes Bucky an apologetic look, quick and breathless, before slipping about of his hold. The absence of his body leaving her colder than she'd like to admit.

"I'll be back." She called out before hurrying after Val into the crowd.

Left standing on the dance floor, Bucky watched her disappear, the warmth of her touch and press of her dress still lingering like a ghost he couldn't shake.

Notes:

AN: sorry for the wait and for splitting it up. I wanted to put something out so I wouldn't keep y'all waiting. I just started college this week so i'll try my best to get chapters out, thank you all for reading and commenting it makes my day!

also sorry if this reads weird I edited this hungover 😭

Chapter 18: The Gala Pt.2

Gala Center
Mel
——————
The applause swelled as Val finished her speech. Mel exhaled quietly, shoulders dropping momentarily. She'd mouthed the words along with Val, double-checking every pause, every inflection. Nothing had gone wrong, thank god

She spent the next twenty minutes collecting Val's discarded note cards, smoothing over two-impatient donors, and politely steering Val back into mingling mode.

When everything had been pushed back onto the tracks, she allowed herself a small breath of relief. Maybe she still had enough time to enjoy the evening before it ended.

She scanned the glittering room for a familiar face, when there was a tap at her shoulder.

"Oh hey B—"

No definitely not Bucky.

Whirling around to face him, her eyes landed on a familiar face, too familiar.

God fucking damnit

"Amir?" Her eyes went wide, heart clenched painfully in her chest.

He looked exactly as he had back in college, hair grown out more, slightly more stubble on his face but...it was him. The same piece of shit asshole from before.

Clutching a large camera in his hands and a press lanyard around his neck. He smiled like he was meeting an old friend, she fought the urge to turn on her heel and sprint in the other direction.

"Yeah, crazy seeing you here." He shook his head, that stupid smile still plastered to his face.

"This is a Thunderbolts event, I work for them." She deadpanned crossing her arms over her chest.

That seemed to make him falter slightly. "C'mon Meli don't be like that."

Anger flared in her gut.

"Don't call me that."

He sighed, stepping closer, she stepped back. "Fine, can we just be civil?"

There's no way he just said that. There's no way. Clenching her hands into fists at her sides she threw on her smile like she would for any member of the press. "Fine, let's be civil."

He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, but she knew better. This was his act. Act all cute and sweet until you felt bad for him and gave in, not this time.

"So, be real with me. Are you and Barnes actually a thing? There's rumors going around that it's just a PR stunt. I thought if anyone would know anything, it'd be you."

Her breath caught for a moment. She'd expected someone to question them at some point, but Amir?

"Of course it's real, why would I agree to a PR stunt? I am PR."

Amir's grin twitched, just enough to see the cruelty behind it. "I mean...I just don't get it. Barnes is—well, he's a hero, right? A guy like that could have anyone. Why you?"

Mel's stomach dropped. She blinked at him, holding that press-trained smile, but her chest ached like he'd ripped open an old scar she thought had healed.

"Why not me?" She asked evenly, though her voice came out quieter than she'd wanted.

He chuckled, low condescending, like he was humoring her. "I just remember college, Mel. You weren't really...the type to keep up. With me, with anyone." His gaze flicked down and back up again, assessing in a way that made her skin crawl. "I just can't picture you with someone like him. That's all."

That's all?

"Maybe someone was holding me back." She retorted, hating how much she was showing her hand.

He gave her an incredulous look. "Holding you back? Mel, c'mon. You're...average. You always were. Average grades, average looks, average everything. I mean, look at you—standing here playing assistant while he's basically an Avenger. Guys like him don't stay with girls like you. They get bored."

The words hit like glass shattering in her chest. Before she even thought about it, her hand stung as it cracked against his face. The sound cut through the music, sharp and clean.

Gala Center
Bucky
——————
Bucky had found a place to lay low with the others. One of the tables in the corner, far enough away from the rest of the attendees for a little peace.

That was until Ava leaned over the table, looking at something across the room. "Isn't that...Amir?"

Bucky's brows furrowed. Why did that name sound so familiar?

"Who's Amir?" Bob asked, glancing between Yelena and Ava's worried looks.

Yelena's eyes widened from beside him. "Like Mel's college ex-boyfriend Amir? Where?"

"What?" Bucky sat up attempting to look where Ava was pointing.

Now everyone was leaning over the table trying to see. "There!" Ava urgently whispered, frantically jabbing her finger in Mel's direction.

There she was. Mel. She looked...angry.

Bucky frowned, leaning forward to see better. They weren't far, just a couple tables over. Amir stood too close, his posture smug in a way that made Bucky's skin crawl even from across the room. Mel's jaw was tight, her shoulders squared like she was holding herself together by sheer force. Amir leaned in, saying something low Bucky couldn't make out.

Then it happened.

The crack of her hand against Amir's face echoed over the low music, sharp enough that their entire table froze. The collective intake of breath from the group was nearly as loud.

Ava's eyes went round. "Holy shit."

Even Walker was stunned into silence.

Alexi's jaw dropped, a gleeful look on his face like he was watching his nightly soap opera.

Bob blinked. "Did she just—"

"Slap him?" Yelena finished, smirking despite herself. "Good form too."

Bucky was on his feet before he even realized he'd moved, his chair scraping harshly against the floor. His chest tightened as he saw Amir stumbling back, one hand pressed to his cheek, eyes wide in disbelief.

Mel stood in front of him, hand still trembling at her side, but her chin lifted in defiance.

For a moment, Bucky imagined himself crossing the room, putting his fist through Amir's face. His metal hand curled instinctively, but he forced it to still. Then Mel spoke, her voice cutting clean through the silence.

"The only boring thing here is you."

Something hot and sharp surged in Bucky's chest—pride, relief, and a spreading ache. He ignored the smug looks Ava and Yelena were shooting him, practically daring him to move.

"So," Yelena said lightly, leaning back in her chair, "you gonna go check on her, or what?"

His gaze snapped down to hers, startled. For a beat too long, he froze. Then, the glare came, sharp enough to make her grin widen.

And then he was moving, across the floor, through the whispering crowd, every stepped honed in on Mel.

She was already striding away from the scene, heels clicking against marble as she disappeared down one of the candle-lit hallways.

Bucky followed, his pace slowed only when he passed Amir. Still standing dumbly stunned, hand pressed to his cheek. The glare Bucky leveled at him was cold and final.

The noise from the gala dulled the further he went, replaced by the echo of her heels and the rush of her breathing. He found her in one of the dim corridors, pressed against a wall like she'd needed to stop before she fell apart. Her chest rose and fell too quickly, her jaw tight, eyes glassy with the kind of frustration that left you reeling.

"Mel—" he started softly.

"I shouldn't have—God I can't believe I—" Her words tumbled out in a rush, hands fluttering uselessly before she crossed her arms. "In front of everyone—Val's gonna have my head. I just—he just—" She broke off, a bitter laugh escaping her. "What is wrong with me?"

"Nothing," Bucky said simply.

She huffed, pacing a few steps, then spinning back toward him. "No, everything. I'm supposed to be professional, not explode in the middle of a gala like some kind of—"

"Human being." He offered.

Her eyes darted to his, surprised. Glancing away, she shook her head.

He didn't push, just stood there, hoping his quiet was helping.

She exhaled hard, pressing her hands to her forehead. "He made me feel so..." She scoffed as if her own feelings were wrong. "So small. Like I was back in college again. Like nothing I've done since then matters. Like i'm still..." She shook her head, cutting herself off.

Bucky's jaw clenched as he tried to keep his voice even. "You don't believe that."

Her hands dropped, and for the first time since he'd followed her, she stilled. The silence stretched between them in the low light.

The shrug she gave him made his chest ache. God knows he'd been there before.

"I don't know what I believe anymore." The words came out a whisper, tired, defeated. Somehow he knew she wasn't just talking about Amir.

Silence.

"I get that."

Her eyes narrowed, like she was trying to pull the truth out of him. "You do?"

"I do."

Another set of heels clicked in a rapid procession from the way they came. Mel face palmed, her body language closing off once again.

"Melissa Gold."

Valentina's voice cut clean down the corridor like a blade. She emerged from the hall, heels striking the floor with every step, her expression sharp enough to draw blood.

Mel froze, arms falling stiffly to her sides.

Valentina didn't waste a second. "Slapping a member of the press? Really?" Her tone dripped with disdain. "Do you have any idea the circus that's about to unleash?"

Mel flinched, then squared her shoulders. "He was—He's not—"

"Doesn't matter." Val snapped "What matters is everyone saw. And what they saw was you losing control."

Bucky felt his jaw tighten, but Mel beat him to it. "He provoked me."

Val arched a brow, unimpressed. "So you hit him. Wonderful. That'll look fantastic on tomorrow's front page."

Bucky crossed him arms over his chest, frustration flaring. "She's not the one you should be coming down on."

For a moment, the only sound was Mel's shaky exhale and Val's huff of exasperation. Her eyes flicked between Mel and Bucky, calculating. Then, to Bucky's surprise, she let out a small, mirthless laugh.

"And here I was," Val said, planting her hands on her hips, "about to congratulate you both on the end of your little PR relationship."

Bucky's brows furrowed, his gaze shifting back to Mel. "End?"

"Val—" Mel's wide eyes made Bucky's stomach drop with dread.

"What?" Val drawled, waving a hand like it was all beneath her. "Mel came to me and asked me to cut the strings. Though, after tonight's incident we might need one more public appearance to smooth things out."

The words settled like stones in his chest. He didn't move, didn't breath, just stared at Mel. From the way her face crumpled, he knew, he wasn't supposed to find out like this.

Val smoothed her dress, already dismissing them with a sharp smile. "Clean yourselves up. We'll talk damage control tomorrow."

Right.

Val's heels clicked down the hall, leaving silence in her wake.

Mel didn't move, neither did Bucky. They just stood there in the dim corridor, eyes locked, everything unsaid stretching taut between them.

Finally, Bucky gave the smallest shake of his head, a humorless huff slipping out as he looked past her. "Well," he said, "I'm sorry she's dragging this on."

The words hit sharper than any glare. Before she could answer, he was already stepping back, putting space between them as if it was the only way to breathe.

Gala Center
Mel
——————
Mel's throat worked as she tried to form something—anything—that may undo the look on his face. "Bucky I—"

He shook his head once, cutting her off before she could find it. "It's getting late." His voice was low, steady, but frayed at the edges. He shifted back another step, eyes sliding away from hers. "I should head out."

No.

She wanted to scream, to shake him by the shoulders and make him listen. But her limbs remained rigid, her voice locked in her throat. All she managed was a mute shake of her head.

He was already turning, shoulders squared in that way that told her he wasn't giving her another inch. He didn't look back. "Goodnight Mel."

Mel stayed rooted to the spot long after his footsteps faded. The silence pressed in, suffocating, broken only by the faint thrum of the gala bleeding down the corridor. Her heart hammered in her ears. Her throat aching with the words she hadn't said.

Yelena and Ava's voices echoed sharp in her head: Tell him how you feel.

Her hands curled into fists at her sides, heat rising to her cheeks. How had it unraveled so fast? One stupid choice, a chain of unlucky moments, and suddenly everything was splintering. Of course it was. She fought the urge to scream. She wanted to rewind the night, to claw it back and force it into something better.

Fuck it.

The anger shoved her forward, her heels striking hard against the floor. She barely noticed the stares from partygoers as she stormed passed them and out the back doors.

Outside the street stretched, quiet and dim, as opposed to the front where she could still faintly hear the press yelling over one another. But here, lit by a flickering fluorescent lamp, it was empty...except for him.

Bucky stood at the curb, shoulders hunched, his phone clutched tight in one hand. He didnt look up, not right away, but then his head turned. Instinctive.

Mel's chest tightened. They were only a few feet apart but the space felt like a chasm. She couldn't quite bring herself to close it.

"Bucky, I-" Her breath wavered. "I'm sorry. I haven't been honest with you."

He shook his head, a quiet dismissal, his mouth parting with words she knew would end this before she even began. Panic surged, she cut him off.

"No, no don't do that please just—Just listen."

His car pulled up along the street. The glow of the headlights casting him in a glow. Her eyes darted between him and the stalling vehicle. Heartbeat picking up.

The driver rolled down his window, one arm bracing the sill. "Ride for Barnes?"

Begrudgingly Bucky sighed, the sounding dragging out of him like it cost something. He glanced at the car before looking back to her.

"You need a ride?" His voice was flat. To anyone else it would've sounded careless, but she caught the way his hand twitched at his side.

Her breath hitched as her speech dissolved on her tongue. The words she wanted, the words she needed jammed in her throat. "I..." She nodded, stepping closer, her pulse racing. "Yeah. I do."

He opened the door for her, jaw tight, gaze fixed anywhere but her face.

She slid into the back seat, the leather cold against her spine. She swallowed hard, her thoughts chasing each other in dizzying circles.

Bucky lowered himself into the seat beside her. The door shut with a sharp thunk, making her flinch. The silence that followed was louder than anything she could've said. They drove off towards the Tower, the distance between them somehow vaster than the city outside the window.

Notes:

AN: Hope y'all are excited for the next chapter...😛