For some reason, knowing that they must be quiet makes it even more pleasurable for him. Bucky hasn't ever been the kind of guy to want to hide the girl he's with but he feels like hiding because he's doing something he shouldn't be doing in a public place is definitely not the same.
Natasha's body clamps down on his cock and it feels like the entire world has centered on just the feel of her around him, their hands sliding across sweat-slicked skin, her soft little cries as she tries to muffle the sound of her pleasure against his neck. He wishes she could be loud about it, really, but the fact she can't stokes him hotter than anything he remembers before.
It doesn't take him long to follow, not with her changing the angle and keeping hold of him like she never intends to let him go. It's been a while since he's come and even longer since he's been with a woman (and the last one was her) so it feels so good for having been such a long time. He comes, white-hot, and then he tips his head back against the headrest and pants a bit, trying to catch his breath.
"I don't know how we're going to get away with this more than once, you know. We will, of course, but I don't know how."
Natasha felt him unravel beneath her, and finally slumped boneless against him, trying to slow her breathing and her galloping heart. She knew that this was by far the most insane thing they could have done, but she'd wanted it, damnit. And she was tired of denying those wants for the "greater good". Especially when danger and death lurked around every conceivable corner.
Hearing his quip had her chuckling, though, and she shifted just enough to murmur beneath his ear, "...does it matter?" She didn't think so. But sitting here basking in post-coital bliss was for amateurs, so she forced herself to move, take a moment to clean up and rearrange clothing to more acceptable standards, then reach up to turn off their small cabin light.
"We should...get some sleep," she said, as if they hadn't just been fucking each other with a mutual desperation. "Still a long flight across the Atlantic." Natasha wiggled around to the inside of the small cot, holding out her arms again. "Lie down with me, James," she invited. Then bit her lip and admitted, "...I want to hold you. As long as I can."
It doesn't really matter. Bucky's sure that this and worse has happened on a plane before, especially in these roomy First Class suites, but he does take the time to rearrange his clothes and get a little more comfortable. He wants to hold Natasha in his arms and when she suggests the same, he's more than happy to comply.
He arranges himself so he can stretch his legs out as much as possible and tugs Natasha to lay against his chest. It's probably the most comfortable they can be, considering he's a solid six foot, but it's still not ideal. Ideal would be another Romanian beach house and hours and hours of time to themselves. If they could just disappear permanently, that would be ideal. He knows it won't be long before SHIELD finds them and that's only if Hydra doesn't find them first. Natasha is their asset and they'll want her back - and capturing a lost asset in Bucky is bound to be on their list as well.
Bucky remembers what it was like to be theirs, to be a prisoner in his own body while he committed atrocity after atrocity. It still haunts him even now and plagues his dreams but he has the assurance that he knows each and everything he did and he can at least atone for them individually. Natasha doesn't even have that. She's got swaths of her memory missing, long periods she cannot account for, and Bucky isn't sure how he'd handle that. He's not sure he'd be able to handle it at all.
She woke up a few hours later, feeling the plane bank a small bit to the right. Apparently they were still out over the ocean, or so her glance out of the small cabin window proved. But that was fine; at least nothing wicked had come bursting through the small door with machine guns in hand, so Natasha gave a brief yawn, untangled her arms and legs from a certain soldier-turned-octopus, and crawled free of their warm, comfortable nest. A visit to the washroom was first, so she replaced her brunette wig and pulled on the rest of her clothes, placing a gentle kiss to Bucky's rough cheek before she left.
Ablutions took about ten minutes, with a word to the stewardess about coffee and perhaps a snack, and discovered that they still had about three hours left in the air, but should be arriving right on time, give or take ten minutes. Returning to their cabin, Natasha pulled the partisan closed again and had to smile lightly at the sight of her exhausted companion, still dozing where she'd left him. She considered crawling right back where she'd been, but coffee would be arriving soon. Caffeine definitely took precedence, at the moment.
Bucky had slept well in spite of being cramped up on a plane (no matter how nice the seats, he was just too tall and too broad to fit into them comfortably). Having Natasha in his arms while he slept soothed him in a way little else had in the past several years so when she stirs to get up, he fights it for a little while.
By the time she'd come back from the washroom, though, he decided he'd go ahead and get up and he casts her a bleary eye. "How far out are we? I'd love to get off this plane and into an actual bed."
Finding a place that would take cash and no questions was first priority, then everything else could follow. Bucky knows it's easier to hole up when you're alone but he doesn't think it will help in this case;, leaving Natasha isn't an option - not since he's gotten her back.
"Three hours or so," was her quiet response, shifting a little more comfortably in the opposite seat. Her lips quirked, amused, as she gave him the proverbial once-over; mussed hair, rumpled clothes, and the air of sleepiness that still clung to his eyes and face. Adorable as hell, James Barnes. It was all she could manage not to slide right into his lap again.
After coffee, perhaps.
And right on cue, the stewardess arrived with the promised provisions, leaving the carafe, two cups, and a small assortment of breakfast pastries, as well. Natasha doled out the coffee, guzzling the hot brew almost immediately and feeling a bit more "awake" afterwards. Biting into a cream puff, relishing the flood of calories, she sipped at her coffee again, inquiring between mouthfuls, "Where are you wanting to go after we land? Anywhere specific in mind?"
"Vama Veche. It's smaller and there's mostly hippies there. It'll be easier to blend in with them because they're not likely to ask as many questions. I would say Costinești but the crowd is younger and neither of us are passing for co-eds."
Bucky likes to think they've aged well, especially Natasha, but no one with as many scars as they've collected between the two of them is going to convince anyone that they're a carefree student on holiday. Their chances are much better in the smaller, more out of the way town.
"If we're sniffed out, there's a chance we can try Tønsberg in Norway. According to rumors, there's Asgardian ex-pats who want to experience Midgard there. If we can convince them that we're allies, they might hide us from the people we're trying to outrun."
Bucky thinks the muscle of Asgard would be enough to deter most average agents of SHIELD and Hydra. He's willing to trust them before he'd trust Steve. Steve himself would protect him, sure, but Steve comes with attachments.
Her lip ticked in amusement. "Hippies." The thought of wearing flowing flower-patterned skirts, sandals and Bohemian tunics pranced across her mind and Natasha laughed briefly, shaking her head. "All right." She wasn't too familiar with Romania - at least, she thought she wasn't, anyway - but she was willing to follow his head, in any case.
The news of Asgardian refugees was a little surprising, however. "In Norway?" Which made sense, considering. But HYDRA didn't seem to have any knowledge of that, and otherworldly, god-like people settling on this planet was definitely something her superiors would be interested in. Hmm. "That would definitely be worth it, if we can sway them. I doubt even HYDRA would willing take any of them on."
She went for another cup of coffee and another danish, licking her fingers clean of the sticky syrup after it was gone. Then she fell to simply sipping at her coffee, curled up in the chair and just watching Bucky across the cabin, eyes soft and expression a little greedy, but oddly feminine.
There's something strangely intimate about how they just share space now. Before, Natasha had been hissing and spitting like a frightened cat but now she seems relaxed enough to let some guard down in his presence. It's sort of like the life he'd wanted for them when they ran from HYDRA the first time and he only hates they got caught and ended up worse off than before. He knows he'll never forgive himself for the terrible things that have happened to Natasha on his account.
His eyes soften a bit as he looks at her and he has to shake his head a bit to clear it and remember what he actually wanted to say. Is he turning into Steve, being all doe-eyed in front of a pretty girl? He hopes not. That's not a good way to stay alive unless you want to go All-American about it.
"Norway, yes. I only found out about them because I've been snooping in SHIELD intelligence. I'm not as good at it as you are but I'm not bad. I'm better than they are at keeping me out, at least."
Thankfully, the rest of the flight passed without incident, and the two fugitives deplaned with the rest of the passengers, calmly following along with scarcely a ripple. Natasha kept her arm lightly linked with Bucky's, letting him steer them along through the concourse, presumably to rent a car and disappear into metropolitan Romania, although the idea of being completely at his mercy still made her a tad uneasy. But she was willing, for now at least, to follow along without complaint; he knew the country, at any rate.
Their passports cleared without a hitch, and once they were through the Customs gates, they'd made the backstretch. As a matter of course, Natasha kept her gaze sharp for any suspicious activity; watching the passing crowds like a hawk, or an overly curious tourist, say. But she didn't miss much, although she itched to be away from such milling sheep and somewhere where they both could finally take a deep breath.
"Better if we take a car," Bucky says, mulling over their options. "Pick one in long term parking and it's less likely they'll report it stolen before we can dump it and get another. If we rent, we get our faces and ID captured and that's just going to lead people to us. Come on, let's go shopping."
The long term parking was a deck on top of the others in the airport, the cars under the bright sun. There were a few people milling about but otherwise it was empty. Bucky wishes he had tools to do this but when you're flying by the seat of your pants, you have to improvise.
She'd pointed out a rather plain SUV parked away from the security camera angle, and snorted a soft laugh to her companion's question. "About as good as you, actually. But I wouldn't want to put your 'hundred and twenty second' record to shame, malyutka. So go right ahead." Natasha smirked and took Bucky's bag, adding it to her shoulder. "Be my guest."
Moseying a few yards away, she deliberately made a good bit of random noise to draw any attention towards herself, and away from the dark haired bloke and the SUV in the corner. With any luck, they'd be out of here and on to the next presumably "safe house", and from there, who knew. Then she spied a lone security vehicle lazily climbing the spiraling ramp towards the top floor, and hissed through her teeth.
"Hurry it up, gorgeous," she called over her shoulder in Russian. "Rent-a-cop's on the way."
Bucky narrows his eyes at the teasing, pretending to be offended, but he goes ahead and gets a start on the SUV. Luckily it's a model that has a regular key and not one of the fancy ones; hotwiring it proves no problem. Also, the owner elected simply to lock it and not actually set the alarm. It wouldn't have been a problem if he had considering most people are immune to the sound of alarms now, but it does make it easier.
He does a low, soft bird call to signal to Natasha that he's in and swings around to pick her up. If they can go ahead and get out of here with minimal exposure to CCTV, the less likely they're going to be caught.
Climbing in the backseat, Natasha went to work as Bucky drove them out of the airport parking garage, digging out her laptop and a few other supplies from her backpack. When she advised her companion to pull off the main thoroughfare into a small shopping center, she was once more a brunette, wearing a completely different set of clothes, and had perfected and printed a brand new driver's license and two money cards she could transcribe for cash as soon as she found a machine.
It took her perhaps half an hour to finish her chores, emerging from the market with food and supplies, enough to last them at least a few days. Back in the car, she slipped into the front seat, handing over a wrapped sandwich and a bottle of green tea. "Lunch," she smirked, opening her own bag of ranch-flavored potato chips. "And you're cooking supper, whenever we get where we're going."
"Thanks for volunteering me," Bucky quips, giving her a grin. He thinks he'd rather be conscripted by Natasha than the US Army, though, and he laughs a little under his breath. Is it strange to feel a thrill go down his spine at running away from everyone with a woman he loves? Maybe it is. Maybe it's ludicrous to be happy about this wild goose chase they're leading HYDRA and SHIELD on but Bucky is happy.
This Natasha seems more herself, too, and that's only contributing to his good mood. He has one hand on the wheel while he navigates the sandwich with the other. There's miles of road stretched out before them and nothing but time to talk so Bucky decides he's going to take advantage of it for the time being.
"Are your memories coming back a little? Or is it...that you can trust me because of what I've done so far?"
The question had her pausing, hand stilling in the chip bag. She suddenly wished he hadn't asked it. Because now that she thought about it, the memories fled away, disappearing back into the recesses of her mind once more. Only to taunt her with their nearness, her ever-increasing want to know.
"...a little," she finally replied, slowly pulling another chip from the bag. "I can...well, I think I can see a little clearer, now." But she sensed his good mood and, not wanting to spoil it, she added in a lighter tone, "But you've been a magnificent asset so far, too, so."
All right, maybe that wasn't the best thing to say, but she couldn't take it back now. Natasha forced a small smile, put aside her snack, and wiped her fingers clean. "I don't want to think about the past right now, though. Not when we have the future stretched out ahead of us, da?"
"Magnificent asset? I don't think anyone's ever used that as a pet name before," Bucky teases. It's more lighthearted than he feels. If he hadn't been focused on driving, he thinks he might have done something rash that he'd regret later and that's just going to make the tentative bond between them fraught when they need to be a unit more than ever. Once they get to safety, maybe he can let his guard down a little but for now, it's important that he keep his wits about him.
"I like the sound of it, though. You'll have to keep that one in your pocket for later." It's just glib enough to be played off as a tease and if she wants to pursue it, she can. It's the most Bucky can give right now when he's afraid of getting hurt; he's more afraid of losing Natasha somehow than his own skin and that's a dangerous place to be. He's afraid that when they're alone, he won't be able to hold back.
"I happen to think you're a magnificent asset too, since we're tossing compliments."
Natasha simply shrugged, willing to let the moment pass, and occupied herself by gazing at the scenery out of the passenger side window. "Appreciated," was all she said, coupled with a brief but dazzling smile she tossed his way. She was more than willing to let the rest of the trip pass in relative silence, only asking a question here and there, typically about the country and culture. A good asset always knew more than enough going in, after all.
Her eyebrows went up, however, when Bucky pulled onto a small driveway some miles away from the last town they drove through, and couldn't help the curve of her lips when she spied their "new home": a small cottage overlooking a small sandy bluff that led down to the edge of the sea, the waves gentle and calm against the shore.
"Nice," she remarked, getting out of the vehicle, left hand already resting on her weapon. Professional habit, that. "And very secluded, we'll be able to see anyone approaching, regardless of direction." But the place tugged at some distant memory deep inside - the salt tinged breeze, the rush of waves on the sand, and the absolute perfection of being together...
She abruptly opened the back passenger door and hefted out a few of the grocery bags. "Was finding this place a stroke of luck, or are you just that good?" The lilt in her voice and the glint in her eye proved it a gentle tease.
"Intentional," Bucky says, smiling back. His smile is a little too sincere to be a tease, though. This isn't quite the same place they'd gone when they'd run away the last time, that would have been stupid, but the little house is incredibly similar. He'd hoped staying in a place so similar would jog some of Natasha's memory and she could remember just how much they'd loved one another here. They were two souls clinging together on an island the last time and shut out the world; Bucky hopes they'll be able to do the same thing here while they're hiding from HYDRA and SHIELD.
Bucky gets most of the bags since he has the strength to do it and while Natasha has some, he's carrying the bulk in. He wants to make this place as comfortable as possible for her, to make it safe, so that they have time to be together and plan their next move. He hopes they won't have to make that move for a while but if they do, he wants it planned to the last degree.
"We can stay here for a while and hopefully have the heat off our backs. It's small but there's enough room for the two of us, I think, and you'll have a chance to just relax and be yourself. We've had too much going on these last few weeks - especially you. You need the chance to recover."
Well, she couldn't really argue with that; not being chased around the world would be such a welcome relief, and give her time. Time to figure out just what the hell was real and what had been implemented into her mind. Time to sort through her memories, to try and put them into some semblance of order.
Time to figure out just what the hell do to next.
It didn't take long to put all of their supplies away, and Natasha closed the last cabinet door with a small sigh of satisfaction. This wasn't a home, not really - it was simply a place to lie low while they recuperated and 'figured things out - but damned if it didn't feel as if she'd lived this before. It was almost eerie.
"It's a nice place," she heard herself say, pausing near the open back door to watch the waves rolling in. "Feels...peaceful here, somehow." Natasha absently rubbed her arms, feeling the distant chord of memory strumming in the back of her mind. Before she even realized it, she held out a hand, snagging Bucky's wrist.
"...James...?" She worried her lower lip with her teeth, tugging at him lightly. "We've done this before, haven't we." It wasn't a question. "In a place like this. We were together - like this." She frowned a little, trying to articulate what was in the back of her mind. "You've...you've kissed me...in a doorway like this one..."
Bucky knows he's been found out now. He'd lucked into this place and how much it looked like that seaside retreat they'd stolen time in so long ago and he'd hope it would jog Natasha's memory and she'd recall how good they'd been together and how much they'd loved one another. He just didn't realize how quickly that would happen.
Bucky draws closer to her, sets his hands on her shoulders. "We were in a place like this once, yeah. We stayed here for a while and hid away from everyone. I wanted...we wanted to stay forever but we got found out. We ended up having to...well, I ended up with SHIELD and HYDRA punished you for losing me. We were happy in a place like this once, though, and I just wanted you to be happy again. It's a little selfish of me and you have every right to be angry."
It's more than a little selfish, really, but he hopes that Natasha doesn't hold it against him this time.
She rested her hands on his arms as he drew closer, listening quietly as she searched his face. But her brows furrowed at his latter words, and she gazed at him somewhat quizzically. "...why would I be angry?" Natasha gestured to their surroundings. "This is a great place to hide." She wrinkled her nose and chuckled up at him. "So you're selfish. So what?"
Natasha gave him a quick grin, lightly chucked his ribs with her knuckles, then twisted out from under his grasp. "You're up on food duty, malyutka. I'm going for a shower, and to get out of these wrinkled clothes."
For some reason, Bucky hadn't expected that reaction from her. It's such an easy return to how they used to be with one another and he wonders if he can let his guard down and show Natasha how vulnerable he is. She makes him more vulnerable than anyone because she's the only one who understands what it's like to be used against your own will and he and Natasha have something together that Bucky's never had with anyone - not even Steve.
He decides to focus on cooking for now, though, putting his hands to work cooking ardei umpluți. There's no time to make bread tonight but he'll bake some later so they'll have it for the rest of the week. The one good thing about this particular house is that it's already stocked with food in preparation for the couple who was supposed to be here; it's a pity they don't get to take advantage of this grocery delivery.
When he hears Natasha come back from the shower, he lifts his voice a bit so she can hear him. "I'm going traditional tonight, I hope you don't mind. When in Romania, yeah?"
She took her time in the shower, letting the warm water wash over her skin, hoping to find a little peace of mind in the therapeutic steam. There was still so much she had to sort through, both in her head and outside of it, and she honestly didn't know where to begin. But at least she wasn't alone; by the time she stepped out of the shower and wrapped up in a soft, fluffy towel, the scents of cooking peppers was delicious, and Natasha inhaled greedily, suddenly realizing that she was, indeed, hungry.
After dressing and toweling her hair from wet to damp, she padded back into the kitchen just in time to hear her housemate call out, and had to shake her head with a fond smile. Rather than answer back just then, she instead crossed the room to stand just behind him, slide her arms around his waist, place her palms flat to his chest, and rest her cheek against Bucky's broad back, relishing his inherent warmth and clean, masculine scent.
Covertly indulging herself in this simple affection - was it even so simple, really? - Natasha closed her eyes and just held him close, unconsciously submerging herself in his quiet strength. "I don't mind," she murmured against his shirt, involuntarily rubbing her cheek gently along the ridge of his left shoulder. "Smells good." And if he took her to mean the food on the stove, well, that was all right, too.
To be honest, Bucky hadn't expected this kind of affection and he didn't know how starved he was for it until Natasha had come right behind him and wrapped around him the way she used to in the old days. He remembers when they used to be comfortable in one another's arms like this and couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. He wants it to be like that again.
He finishes on the stove and puts the lid on the pan so the peppers can simmer without his direct involvement and turns around so he can look at Natasha and give her his full attention. She looks vulnerable like this with damp hair and pale skin and he brushes his thumb over her full bottom lip.
"You're awfully affectionate. We probably need to have a talk about what you remember and what you don't so I can fill in any blank spots for you. Does that sound good or would you rather put it off? I've never...done this so I'm going to go at your speed."
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maskirovka) wrote2018-04-08 02:44 pm
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Natasha's body clamps down on his cock and it feels like the entire world has centered on just the feel of her around him, their hands sliding across sweat-slicked skin, her soft little cries as she tries to muffle the sound of her pleasure against his neck. He wishes she could be loud about it, really, but the fact she can't stokes him hotter than anything he remembers before.
It doesn't take him long to follow, not with her changing the angle and keeping hold of him like she never intends to let him go. It's been a while since he's come and even longer since he's been with a woman (and the last one was her) so it feels so good for having been such a long time. He comes, white-hot, and then he tips his head back against the headrest and pants a bit, trying to catch his breath.
"I don't know how we're going to get away with this more than once, you know. We will, of course, but I don't know how."
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Hearing his quip had her chuckling, though, and she shifted just enough to murmur beneath his ear, "...does it matter?" She didn't think so. But sitting here basking in post-coital bliss was for amateurs, so she forced herself to move, take a moment to clean up and rearrange clothing to more acceptable standards, then reach up to turn off their small cabin light.
"We should...get some sleep," she said, as if they hadn't just been fucking each other with a mutual desperation. "Still a long flight across the Atlantic." Natasha wiggled around to the inside of the small cot, holding out her arms again. "Lie down with me, James," she invited. Then bit her lip and admitted, "...I want to hold you. As long as I can."
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He arranges himself so he can stretch his legs out as much as possible and tugs Natasha to lay against his chest. It's probably the most comfortable they can be, considering he's a solid six foot, but it's still not ideal. Ideal would be another Romanian beach house and hours and hours of time to themselves. If they could just disappear permanently, that would be ideal. He knows it won't be long before SHIELD finds them and that's only if Hydra doesn't find them first. Natasha is their asset and they'll want her back - and capturing a lost asset in Bucky is bound to be on their list as well.
Bucky remembers what it was like to be theirs, to be a prisoner in his own body while he committed atrocity after atrocity. It still haunts him even now and plagues his dreams but he has the assurance that he knows each and everything he did and he can at least atone for them individually. Natasha doesn't even have that. She's got swaths of her memory missing, long periods she cannot account for, and Bucky isn't sure how he'd handle that. He's not sure he'd be able to handle it at all.
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Ablutions took about ten minutes, with a word to the stewardess about coffee and perhaps a snack, and discovered that they still had about three hours left in the air, but should be arriving right on time, give or take ten minutes. Returning to their cabin, Natasha pulled the partisan closed again and had to smile lightly at the sight of her exhausted companion, still dozing where she'd left him. She considered crawling right back where she'd been, but coffee would be arriving soon. Caffeine definitely took precedence, at the moment.
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By the time she'd come back from the washroom, though, he decided he'd go ahead and get up and he casts her a bleary eye. "How far out are we? I'd love to get off this plane and into an actual bed."
Finding a place that would take cash and no questions was first priority, then everything else could follow. Bucky knows it's easier to hole up when you're alone but he doesn't think it will help in this case;, leaving Natasha isn't an option - not since he's gotten her back.
"I'll settle for caffeine and breakfast, though."
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After coffee, perhaps.
And right on cue, the stewardess arrived with the promised provisions, leaving the carafe, two cups, and a small assortment of breakfast pastries, as well. Natasha doled out the coffee, guzzling the hot brew almost immediately and feeling a bit more "awake" afterwards. Biting into a cream puff, relishing the flood of calories, she sipped at her coffee again, inquiring between mouthfuls, "Where are you wanting to go after we land? Anywhere specific in mind?"
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Bucky likes to think they've aged well, especially Natasha, but no one with as many scars as they've collected between the two of them is going to convince anyone that they're a carefree student on holiday. Their chances are much better in the smaller, more out of the way town.
"If we're sniffed out, there's a chance we can try Tønsberg in Norway. According to rumors, there's Asgardian ex-pats who want to experience Midgard there. If we can convince them that we're allies, they might hide us from the people we're trying to outrun."
Bucky thinks the muscle of Asgard would be enough to deter most average agents of SHIELD and Hydra. He's willing to trust them before he'd trust Steve. Steve himself would protect him, sure, but Steve comes with attachments.
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The news of Asgardian refugees was a little surprising, however. "In Norway?" Which made sense, considering. But HYDRA didn't seem to have any knowledge of that, and otherworldly, god-like people settling on this planet was definitely something her superiors would be interested in. Hmm. "That would definitely be worth it, if we can sway them. I doubt even HYDRA would willing take any of them on."
She went for another cup of coffee and another danish, licking her fingers clean of the sticky syrup after it was gone. Then she fell to simply sipping at her coffee, curled up in the chair and just watching Bucky across the cabin, eyes soft and expression a little greedy, but oddly feminine.
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His eyes soften a bit as he looks at her and he has to shake his head a bit to clear it and remember what he actually wanted to say. Is he turning into Steve, being all doe-eyed in front of a pretty girl? He hopes not. That's not a good way to stay alive unless you want to go All-American about it.
"Norway, yes. I only found out about them because I've been snooping in SHIELD intelligence. I'm not as good at it as you are but I'm not bad. I'm better than they are at keeping me out, at least."
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Their passports cleared without a hitch, and once they were through the Customs gates, they'd made the backstretch. As a matter of course, Natasha kept her gaze sharp for any suspicious activity; watching the passing crowds like a hawk, or an overly curious tourist, say. But she didn't miss much, although she itched to be away from such milling sheep and somewhere where they both could finally take a deep breath.
"How far?"
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The long term parking was a deck on top of the others in the airport, the cars under the bright sun. There were a few people milling about but otherwise it was empty. Bucky wishes he had tools to do this but when you're flying by the seat of your pants, you have to improvise.
"How good are you with unlocking cars?"
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Moseying a few yards away, she deliberately made a good bit of random noise to draw any attention towards herself, and away from the dark haired bloke and the SUV in the corner. With any luck, they'd be out of here and on to the next presumably "safe house", and from there, who knew. Then she spied a lone security vehicle lazily climbing the spiraling ramp towards the top floor, and hissed through her teeth.
"Hurry it up, gorgeous," she called over her shoulder in Russian. "Rent-a-cop's on the way."
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He does a low, soft bird call to signal to Natasha that he's in and swings around to pick her up. If they can go ahead and get out of here with minimal exposure to CCTV, the less likely they're going to be caught.
"Get in here, Red. We've got a drive."
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It took her perhaps half an hour to finish her chores, emerging from the market with food and supplies, enough to last them at least a few days. Back in the car, she slipped into the front seat, handing over a wrapped sandwich and a bottle of green tea. "Lunch," she smirked, opening her own bag of ranch-flavored potato chips. "And you're cooking supper, whenever we get where we're going."
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This Natasha seems more herself, too, and that's only contributing to his good mood. He has one hand on the wheel while he navigates the sandwich with the other. There's miles of road stretched out before them and nothing but time to talk so Bucky decides he's going to take advantage of it for the time being.
"Are your memories coming back a little? Or is it...that you can trust me because of what I've done so far?"
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"...a little," she finally replied, slowly pulling another chip from the bag. "I can...well, I think I can see a little clearer, now." But she sensed his good mood and, not wanting to spoil it, she added in a lighter tone, "But you've been a magnificent asset so far, too, so."
All right, maybe that wasn't the best thing to say, but she couldn't take it back now. Natasha forced a small smile, put aside her snack, and wiped her fingers clean. "I don't want to think about the past right now, though. Not when we have the future stretched out ahead of us, da?"
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"I like the sound of it, though. You'll have to keep that one in your pocket for later." It's just glib enough to be played off as a tease and if she wants to pursue it, she can. It's the most Bucky can give right now when he's afraid of getting hurt; he's more afraid of losing Natasha somehow than his own skin and that's a dangerous place to be. He's afraid that when they're alone, he won't be able to hold back.
"I happen to think you're a magnificent asset too, since we're tossing compliments."
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Her eyebrows went up, however, when Bucky pulled onto a small driveway some miles away from the last town they drove through, and couldn't help the curve of her lips when she spied their "new home": a small cottage overlooking a small sandy bluff that led down to the edge of the sea, the waves gentle and calm against the shore.
"Nice," she remarked, getting out of the vehicle, left hand already resting on her weapon. Professional habit, that. "And very secluded, we'll be able to see anyone approaching, regardless of direction." But the place tugged at some distant memory deep inside - the salt tinged breeze, the rush of waves on the sand, and the absolute perfection of being together...
She abruptly opened the back passenger door and hefted out a few of the grocery bags. "Was finding this place a stroke of luck, or are you just that good?" The lilt in her voice and the glint in her eye proved it a gentle tease.
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Bucky gets most of the bags since he has the strength to do it and while Natasha has some, he's carrying the bulk in. He wants to make this place as comfortable as possible for her, to make it safe, so that they have time to be together and plan their next move. He hopes they won't have to make that move for a while but if they do, he wants it planned to the last degree.
"We can stay here for a while and hopefully have the heat off our backs. It's small but there's enough room for the two of us, I think, and you'll have a chance to just relax and be yourself. We've had too much going on these last few weeks - especially you. You need the chance to recover."
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Time to figure out just what the hell do to next.
It didn't take long to put all of their supplies away, and Natasha closed the last cabinet door with a small sigh of satisfaction. This wasn't a home, not really - it was simply a place to lie low while they recuperated and 'figured things out - but damned if it didn't feel as if she'd lived this before. It was almost eerie.
"It's a nice place," she heard herself say, pausing near the open back door to watch the waves rolling in. "Feels...peaceful here, somehow." Natasha absently rubbed her arms, feeling the distant chord of memory strumming in the back of her mind. Before she even realized it, she held out a hand, snagging Bucky's wrist.
"...James...?" She worried her lower lip with her teeth, tugging at him lightly. "We've done this before, haven't we." It wasn't a question. "In a place like this. We were together - like this." She frowned a little, trying to articulate what was in the back of her mind. "You've...you've kissed me...in a doorway like this one..."
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Bucky draws closer to her, sets his hands on her shoulders. "We were in a place like this once, yeah. We stayed here for a while and hid away from everyone. I wanted...we wanted to stay forever but we got found out. We ended up having to...well, I ended up with SHIELD and HYDRA punished you for losing me. We were happy in a place like this once, though, and I just wanted you to be happy again. It's a little selfish of me and you have every right to be angry."
It's more than a little selfish, really, but he hopes that Natasha doesn't hold it against him this time.
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Natasha gave him a quick grin, lightly chucked his ribs with her knuckles, then twisted out from under his grasp. "You're up on food duty, malyutka. I'm going for a shower, and to get out of these wrinkled clothes."
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He decides to focus on cooking for now, though, putting his hands to work cooking ardei umpluți. There's no time to make bread tonight but he'll bake some later so they'll have it for the rest of the week. The one good thing about this particular house is that it's already stocked with food in preparation for the couple who was supposed to be here; it's a pity they don't get to take advantage of this grocery delivery.
When he hears Natasha come back from the shower, he lifts his voice a bit so she can hear him. "I'm going traditional tonight, I hope you don't mind. When in Romania, yeah?"
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After dressing and toweling her hair from wet to damp, she padded back into the kitchen just in time to hear her housemate call out, and had to shake her head with a fond smile. Rather than answer back just then, she instead crossed the room to stand just behind him, slide her arms around his waist, place her palms flat to his chest, and rest her cheek against Bucky's broad back, relishing his inherent warmth and clean, masculine scent.
Covertly indulging herself in this simple affection - was it even so simple, really? - Natasha closed her eyes and just held him close, unconsciously submerging herself in his quiet strength. "I don't mind," she murmured against his shirt, involuntarily rubbing her cheek gently along the ridge of his left shoulder. "Smells good." And if he took her to mean the food on the stove, well, that was all right, too.
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He finishes on the stove and puts the lid on the pan so the peppers can simmer without his direct involvement and turns around so he can look at Natasha and give her his full attention. She looks vulnerable like this with damp hair and pale skin and he brushes his thumb over her full bottom lip.
"You're awfully affectionate. We probably need to have a talk about what you remember and what you don't so I can fill in any blank spots for you. Does that sound good or would you rather put it off? I've never...done this so I'm going to go at your speed."
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