Chapter Text
Everything was going…okay. Bucky was almost afraid to think things were going well, for fear of jinxing it somehow, but okay covered it, just with less emphasis. Thanks to a combination of Wanda and her abilities and Stark’s BARF; Bucky agreed with Howard’s son that the acronym needed work; all of the programming implanted by HYDRA was nothing more than a memory, and with extensive therapy he felt more like a person and less of an asset for the first time in years. He was glad the stigma of speaking to shrinks that there was back before he became the Winter Soldier had gone and that it was a normal thing now as he had found the sessions helpful with his guilt, his grief, even his PTSD. Once a month he was sent home with a survey which he would complete and return to the office within The Avengers Tower, which was what he was doing now, riding the elevator up to drop off his latest paperwork.
Amelia Richards was just closing down her computer for the day. Her new assignment as secretary to the team of psychiatrists was well below what she was trained for, but ever since the Triskelion incident what good remained of SHEILD didn't seem to know what to do with her. Instead of taking the settlement and leaving the service, as a lot of her fellow injured colleagues had, she stayed on, but field operations were no longer an option. Some days the pain was worse than others, and it made her tired and frustrated in so many ways, but she went where The Avengers and SHIELD needed her, doing small, thankless jobs that were a far cry from her former life.
She heard the elevator down the corridor from her office ping, and she hoped it wasn’t someone coming here. With the computer shut down and everyone else gone for the weekend there would be little she could do for anyone. Actually, she knew that wasn’t true. If she had to she would turn the machine back on and help any way she could, she just wasn’t the sort to turn someone away if they needed her, no matter how small the matter.
She sensed rather than heard someone approaching, her senses still finely tuned to subtle changes, and she turned on her brightest smile as someone crossed through the open doorway.
Bucky stopped and looked at the woman smiling at him before checking the number on the door. Either he had the wrong office or she was new, and he would have remembered her. She was beautiful. Thick chestnut hair fell down her back and her smile lit up her features from her pink lips to her wide, hazel eyes. She had spoken, he was sure she had, but he completely missed what she said.
Amelia had stumbled over her greeting when she realised who had just walked in. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, legendary Howling Commando and reformed HYDRA assassin, stood in the doorway, his piercing blue eyes staring at her so intently that instead of asking if she could help him she asked; ‘Can you help me?’ He didn’t seem to know how to respond, he just kept staring at her with his well defined lips slightly parted.
His hair was tied back in a small man bun and he wore a grey zip up, black sweats and sneakers, as though he were on his way to or from the gym. A plain black glove covered his prosthetic hand but, damn, if he wasn’t the most attractive man she had ever seen in her life.
‘Sorry.’ They both said at once and Bucky was finally able to move again, his feet leading him to stand in front of her at the desk.
‘How can I help you?’ Amelia made herself say carefully so this time she didn’t mess it up.
‘I have my monthly survey.’ He held up the envelope in his hand.
‘Oh, I know what to do with that!’ She grinned, glad it didn’t require the computer to be turned on again. She took one of the secure envelopes from the desk drawer and held it open for him to slip his smaller document envelope into before she sealed it and offered him a pen. ‘If you’ll just sign along the seal, then I’ll drop it in the safe.’
Bucky had done this before, the explanation was unnecessary, he preferred to drop his paperwork off late as he ran into less people, most still regarded him cautiously, despite all the reassurances he was no longer a danger.
‘Sure thing.’ He took the pen and bent over the desk, scrawling his signature across the seal then passing them both back to her.
She thanked him quietly and signed her name beside his.
‘You’re new, right?’ Bucky asked quickly before he lost his nerve.
‘Just this week.’ She pushed herself up heavily on the desk before taking the few steps to the drop safe where she deposited the envelope. He noticed she had a slight limp, as though her muscles were stiff, but he also admired how her grey pinstripe suit fit her frame, standing perhaps as tall as Natasha and equally proportioned.
‘How are you finding it?’ He asked as she turned back and came to lean on the desk, a little heavier than just to be casual.
‘Another learning curve.’ She shrugged. ‘But I pick things up fast enough.’
‘Good. You’re from England?’ He asked, recognising her accent although it wasn’t quite the clipped upper crust Peggy’s or Falsworth’s had been, but held a side of something else.
‘Originally.’ She replied, her smile still bright.
He nodded, not sure what to say next. ‘Well, you look like you’re finishing for the day, so I’ll leave you to it.’ He indicated to the darkened monitor.
‘I was, thank you. Have a good weekend.’
‘You too.’ He backed up two paces so he could still see her before turning and leaving.
Amelia enjoyed the view and sighed. Maybe this assignment wouldn’t be so boring, with eye candy like that occasionally visiting.