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."
Her eyebrow went up. "I was under the impression my affection didn't bother you, James." She knew it didn't, but she couldn't help teasing him about it. Natasha gave Bucky's thumb a light, playful nip, but shook her head to his next question. "Don't want to talk about it." Not just yet. She dropped her gaze, lashes lowering over her eyes but she still held him close, arms latched around his waist.
"...it's still...it's still really blurry, most of it." And more and more things kept surfacing, little snippets of detail that she knew she'd eventually have to compartmentalize, try to put into some semblance of order. But not right now. "There's a lot..." She sighed, shook her head. "There's still a lot that doesn't make sense. And I can't - can't really deal with all of it right now."
Then she looked back up at him, dark eyes serious. "But I do remember what's important, though. I know that you loved me. And I loved you. That's all that really matters right now, isn't it?"
Hearing her say that she loved him is possibly the thing he's been waiting on this whole time. Hearing her say it makes him feel like he can breathe for the first time in a long time and he drifts his fingertips over the delicate lines of her face.
"You don't have to talk about it, Natasha. I just want you to know that I love you and that there's nothing you can't tell me, good or bad. Your secrets are always safe with me, no matter what they are. Two people can't go through what we have and not come out as close as we are. I'd do anything for you."
Bucky has already turned his life upside down for Natasha. He'd do it again in a heartbeat if it meant keeping her safe. He wants to make sure that nobody looking for them can get a bead on her and if they do, he's willing to throw his body in front of Natasha to keep her from being hurt. He can take the hits.
Hearing him say it - all but swearing fealty, good God - still made her a little uneasy, way down in her stomach. Almost as if...she was afraid of it. Of him getting hurt, or even killed, because of her. Because that was the last thing she wanted...
You are to bring him in alive; unspoiled if possible... Why did she still hear that command?
Natasha shook her head, forcing a tight smile, and rose on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss to Bucky's cheek. "I know," she told him softly. "But you don't have to. I'm a big girl," she assured him, although her smile didn't quite meet her eyes. "You don't have to worry about me." Even though she knew that he would.
"How long until dinner?" A new segue, anything to change the subject. "The peppers smell wonderful." She forced a little smirk, a small glint appearing in her eyes. "You seem to be quite the chef, Mr. Barnes."
"I learned a few things here and there. My Ma was the type of woman who thought a man ought to know his way around a kitchen as much as his wife. Maybe it'd been kind of progressive for the day but it's helped me survive more than once when I've been holed up in a safe house somewhere. It's less risky to cook for yourself and go in once in a while for supplies than to be constantly getting takeout. Less people to see your face.
"Would give anything for a nice slice, though. I've got to figure out how to make real New York pizza on my own. For some reason, the dough never tastes right when I make it. There's something special about it in the city."
Bucky busses a quick kiss against her temple. "Not much longer on the food, though, if you want to start getting the plates down for me."
She made appropriate noises as she moved about the small kitchen, fetching plates, glasses, and silverware to set the table. The odd feeling of domesticity wasn't entirely lost on the redheaded assassin - it felt weird as hell, engaging in something so...ordinary. Something she'd never had before.
Sitting down to a meal felt even weirder, but Natasha put on a smooth countenance and sat across from her companion in relatively easy silence, watching as Bucky bustled about. She'd poured them both water with ice, figuring that clear heads were needed for both of them. Herself, especially. ...particularly since the more she watched him putter about, the stronger the urge became to forego dinner entirely and drag him down the hall to the small bedroom.
Natasha mentally chastised herself. Enough of this foolishness. Enough. So she kept her small smile, pleasantly calm, as he sat down opposite her, and picked up her fork. Time to eat, clean up the kitchen, and ignore this churning want constantly plaguing her inside.
Bucky, too, is having to fight his own urges. Natasha had been the best relationship he ever had even if it'd come about in the absolute worst of circumstances and his feelings have never faded for her. On the contrary, they've only gotten worse since she's back with him and he wants to shield her from everything that comes at her in spite of the fact that he knows damned well she can take care of herself.
"How do you like the peppers? Better than my usual, hmm?" Bucky is a decent cook when he gets the time to do it but, unfortunately, he doesn't often get the chance. Right now, it's safer to eat out of sight of everyone and he is relishing the fact that he's actually getting to cook and settle for a little while.
It feels like home, even if they're as far from Brooklyn or upstate as they can possibly be. They're not in Moscow, either, and that had been a home for them for a little while. No, this is different. This is something that's simply theirs and they haven't had to share it with anyone else.
She nodded with a mouth full, swallowing before responding with, "They're very good. Tender and spicy, just as they should be." Natasha had still-hazy recollections of him cooking every now and again, when they either couldn't get to anything premade, or had just had enough of greasy fast food and market leftovers during their missions together. "But breakfast is still my favorite."
He'd always made bacon or sausage, eggs, and at least toast, and always coffee. She'd learned to appreciate "American" food thanks to the Soldier's fondness for it, something so ingrained within him that not even HYDRA's painful conditioning could erase.
Natasha took another bite, washing it down with a sip of cold water before remarking, "At least we can sleep in tomorrow, da?" There didn't seem to be much to actually do, other than rest and recuperate. Although the thought of actually remaining in one place made her a little antsy, still. "Just how safe is this place, James? Are we really that far off of the grid?"
"We're far enough to blend with people," Bucky explains. "It's easier to hide in plain sight and if we get compromised, we can quickly get to public transit and out of the country. If we're out in the wilderness and get caught, we have less resources to get away."
That's his logic, anyway, and he's been on the run before recently. He thinks Steve might find them but he also believes Steve's loyalty to him will override his loyalty to SHIELD. Bucky hopes so, anyway.
"I think we'll be all right here. We're both capable of making a quick escape and you're worth fighting for. I'm not going to let anyone get to you without doing some serious damage first, all right? I care too much and I'm invested in this."
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maskirovka) wrote2018-04-08 02:44 pm
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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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"...it's still...it's still really blurry, most of it." And more and more things kept surfacing, little snippets of detail that she knew she'd eventually have to compartmentalize, try to put into some semblance of order. But not right now. "There's a lot..." She sighed, shook her head. "There's still a lot that doesn't make sense. And I can't - can't really deal with all of it right now."
Then she looked back up at him, dark eyes serious. "But I do remember what's important, though. I know that you loved me. And I loved you. That's all that really matters right now, isn't it?"
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"You don't have to talk about it, Natasha. I just want you to know that I love you and that there's nothing you can't tell me, good or bad. Your secrets are always safe with me, no matter what they are. Two people can't go through what we have and not come out as close as we are. I'd do anything for you."
Bucky has already turned his life upside down for Natasha. He'd do it again in a heartbeat if it meant keeping her safe. He wants to make sure that nobody looking for them can get a bead on her and if they do, he's willing to throw his body in front of Natasha to keep her from being hurt. He can take the hits.
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You are to bring him in alive; unspoiled if possible... Why did she still hear that command?
Natasha shook her head, forcing a tight smile, and rose on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss to Bucky's cheek. "I know," she told him softly. "But you don't have to. I'm a big girl," she assured him, although her smile didn't quite meet her eyes. "You don't have to worry about me." Even though she knew that he would.
"How long until dinner?" A new segue, anything to change the subject. "The peppers smell wonderful." She forced a little smirk, a small glint appearing in her eyes. "You seem to be quite the chef, Mr. Barnes."
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"Would give anything for a nice slice, though. I've got to figure out how to make real New York pizza on my own. For some reason, the dough never tastes right when I make it. There's something special about it in the city."
Bucky busses a quick kiss against her temple. "Not much longer on the food, though, if you want to start getting the plates down for me."
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Sitting down to a meal felt even weirder, but Natasha put on a smooth countenance and sat across from her companion in relatively easy silence, watching as Bucky bustled about. She'd poured them both water with ice, figuring that clear heads were needed for both of them. Herself, especially. ...particularly since the more she watched him putter about, the stronger the urge became to forego dinner entirely and drag him down the hall to the small bedroom.
Natasha mentally chastised herself. Enough of this foolishness. Enough. So she kept her small smile, pleasantly calm, as he sat down opposite her, and picked up her fork. Time to eat, clean up the kitchen, and ignore this churning want constantly plaguing her inside.
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"How do you like the peppers? Better than my usual, hmm?" Bucky is a decent cook when he gets the time to do it but, unfortunately, he doesn't often get the chance. Right now, it's safer to eat out of sight of everyone and he is relishing the fact that he's actually getting to cook and settle for a little while.
It feels like home, even if they're as far from Brooklyn or upstate as they can possibly be. They're not in Moscow, either, and that had been a home for them for a little while. No, this is different. This is something that's simply theirs and they haven't had to share it with anyone else.
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He'd always made bacon or sausage, eggs, and at least toast, and always coffee. She'd learned to appreciate "American" food thanks to the Soldier's fondness for it, something so ingrained within him that not even HYDRA's painful conditioning could erase.
Natasha took another bite, washing it down with a sip of cold water before remarking, "At least we can sleep in tomorrow, da?" There didn't seem to be much to actually do, other than rest and recuperate. Although the thought of actually remaining in one place made her a little antsy, still. "Just how safe is this place, James? Are we really that far off of the grid?"
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That's his logic, anyway, and he's been on the run before recently. He thinks Steve might find them but he also believes Steve's loyalty to him will override his loyalty to SHIELD. Bucky hopes so, anyway.
"I think we'll be all right here. We're both capable of making a quick escape and you're worth fighting for. I'm not going to let anyone get to you without doing some serious damage first, all right? I care too much and I'm invested in this."
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