Chapter Text
Bucky Barnes grew up knowing he had something to live up to.
"I want someone who can dance, not someone I can talk to," his soulmate would say. He didn't need to impress her with learning or money, he just needed to be able to move. Well, let it never be said Bucky wasn't up for a challenge. He learned every dance he possibly could, though he would admit to favoring the partner dances. Steve thought it was funny.
"What if she's bein' euphemistic?" he asked once, impish grin firmly in place as he sketched.
Bucky took to practicing that too, just in case.
The Winter Soldier didn't dance...or dance, as the case may be.
Steve seemed to understand that, because he didn't once bring up the scarred tissue on the inside of Bucky's right arm that marred the words to near illegibility. Bucky, in turn, didn't mention the scarring was self-inflicted during a moment of limited lucidity. They couldn't make him kill her if he never knew it was her to start with.
He really hoped they'd already met, even if he couldn't remember her.
Of course, it was probably too much to hope Steve would leave it alone forever.
"Come on, Buck," Steve cajoled, "you need to leave the apartment sooner or later. Plus, Dr. Foster's gonna be there, and if she can leave her den of science long enough to finally meet the rest of the team, you got no excuse."
Bucky grumbled menacingly, but apparently Steve had grown immune. Dammit.
The music in the common room was loud. There was already drunken singing. Bucky glared at Steve, who shrugged, smirking.
The song had a thumping beat and lyrics so fast, Buck almost didn't catch them. As the two approached, Bucky took in the mess before him. Tony was at the bar, serving himself and Natasha something wickedly red. Clint signed with Wanda, who was brokenly trying to keep up. Thor and a petite woman—probably Dr. Foster—cuddled on a couch, chatting with Bruce. Pietro danced across the room with a brunette, both singing along with the music.
As she spun away from her partner, the brunette caught Bucky's eye and sang his words to him.
Without thought, Bucky cut in, pulling her into a frenetic West Coast swing. Delighted, she followed his lead. The steps were too quick for her to sing and dance at the same time, but she didn't seem to mind, laughing and smiling at Bucky like she couldn't believe he was real.
When the song ended, they were met with catcalls and applause.
"Call me Bucky," he said softly, half remembering what he'd wanted to say to her a few lifetimes ago.
She blushed scarlet, smiling even as she turned to Steve and yelled, "You meddling prick!"
Bucky didn't see Steve's response, because Pietro appeared and clapped him on the shoulder. "You've got to teach me how to do that."
Bucky stared at him, uncertain. He hadn't actually planned on interacting with anyone tonight.
"Back off, Quickass, I saw him first," the brunette said playfully. "I'm Darcy, by the way."