Chapter Text
Darcy hasn’t ice skated since...god, high school? Early college? She wasn’t exactly doing jumps or spins, but she was able to at least not fall and sometimes even skate backwards. Since it’s been probably at least ten years since she was on the ice, she’s starting to think she may have made a bad suggestion when she brought up ice skating.
The rink in Rockefeller Center is going to be entirely too busy, both for Bucky’s nerves and for hers, so she finds a smaller local rink. It’ll probably still be busy, but it’ll be less of a messy tourist trap. It’s a cute rink, with a large tree decorated with green and red in the center.
Darcy had figured going during the day would mean that most people would be in school or at work so it’d be less busy. Well, egg on her face, because there are a lot of young kids here with their parents or babysitters. Some of them are on their own, shaky but skating solo, but some have the sliding walkers for kids just learning.
“Oh god,” she mutters as she looks at the rink.
“What’s that, doll?” Bucky asks, sitting down on the bench next to her. He hands her her skates and starts on the laces of his.
“Uh, nothing,” Darcy says. “Just a whole lot of kids.”
“I thought you like kids?” he asks.
“I do,” she says. “I don’t like the idea of slicing their fingers off with the knives strapped to my feet.”
Bucky snorts out a laugh. “I thought you said you know how to ice skate?” he says.
“I do! But it’s probably been ten years since I’ve actually done it,” she says.
“Well it’s been seventy years since I can remember skating,” he says, standing and offering her his hand. “So if we fall, we’ll aim for their parents.”
Darcy can’t help but laugh at that. She takes his hand, warm even through their gloves. He pulls her to her feet and they walk awkwardly on the rubber mats until they get to the rink entrance. Bucky waits until the two people clinging to the rink edges pass before stepping out onto the ice. He glides easily, not having the decency to fumble at all.
Darcy bites her lip and follows him, pleasantly surprised to not instantly fall on her ass. It may not be quite like remembering how to ride a bike, but after a few seconds, muscle memory kicks in. She remembers what angle her feet should be at, how to slide forward without tripping. Then a kid whose head only comes up to her thigh whizzes past and she grabs Bucky’s arm in alarm. He laughs softly, shifting until her hand is held tightly in his.
“I promise I won’t let you decapitate any children,” he says, striking out a bit faster, pulling her with him. It’s not faster than she’s capable of and after a minute of getting used to being on the ice again, it’s easy to match his pace. She knows he’s going slower than he’d probably go on his own, and her short legs appreciate it.
It’s...really, really nice. The slower kids with the sliding walkers tend to be on the edges of the rink, so if they stay toward the inside, they have less child obstacles and her anxiety drops. She still doesn’t let go of Bucky’s hand, though. Christmas music is playing in the background, the tree is sparkling in the center of the ice, and little snowflakes and snowmen are projected onto the ice.
She’s already been in the holiday spirit, but this adds something calming to it. She’s been in such a rush, making sure things are decorated and baked and that gifts are bought and events are planned...She enjoys doing that and she’s good at it, but being able to just slow down and enjoy this? Skating in a room full of twinkling lights with Bucky’s hand in hers is making her feel warm and content in a whole other way.
Bucky tugs her to the little carpet on the ice in front of the tree for people to stop and take pictures and pulls out his phone. “Take a picture with me, doll?” he asks.
Darcy grins, cheeks tingeing pink because she’s easy for things like this, okay? Ian would huff and put up with her taking pictures of everything, but made it very clear what he thought of it. But Bucky’s already got the camera open, settings perfect to make sure the glittering tree behind them doesn’t backlight their faces too much.
“I can’t believe you want to take a selfie with me,” Darcy says, grinning.
“Of course I do. Don’t tell Sam I know what that means, though,” he says, pulling her closer and tucking her under his arm. He takes a few different pictures from different angles, making sure that he gets both of their faces in the frame, which is kind of a pain with the height difference.
“Why can’t I tell Sam you know what a selfie is?” Darcy asks. He slides his phone back into his pocket, immediately taking her hand again and merging in with the other skaters.
“I keep calling it ‘photographing’ and watching that vein in his forehead pulse. I pretended I think that taking a selfie means touching yourself,” he says, making the older woman skating by look at them, scandalized. Darcy bursts out laughing, almost bumping into the judgey lady, Bucky tugging her out of the way at the last second.
“You did not!” she says.
“I did,” he says, grinning. “He keeps calling me ‘gramps’ and thinking I don’t know how technology works, like I never used the internet before.”
“What a monster,” Darcy says, cheeks actually starting to ache with how hard she’s grinning.
“I’m gonna start referencing memes soon, see if I can get him to cry,” Bucky says.
Darcy laughs, imagining Sam sobbing. “But the real question is, are you using up-to-date memes, so he knows you’re current, or are you using older ones so he thinks you’ve been paying attention to meme culture since like 2005?” she asks.
Bucky stares at her for a moment before a slow, devious grin spreads over his face. “Are you gonna help me fuck with Sam?” he asks.
“Are you inviting me into a prank war?” she asks, delighted.
“It’s not really a war considering he has no idea he’s being messed with,” Bucky says. “You’re invited to be second in command in my surprise prank incursion.”
“He’ll never know what hit him,” Darcy says with a grin.
They skate for a while longer, but eventually Darcy’s feet start getting sore, and when school gets out the rink is flooded with kids, so they decide it’s time to go. They turn in their skates and put on their regular shoes before making their way out of the rink, right as a busload of children pulls in.
“I know what you’ve been doing,” Bucky says as they walk toward where they’re meeting their driver.
“Huh?” Darcy says, looking around from where she’d been staring at a store’s window display of holiday candy.
Bucky jerks his head in the direction of the rink. “The skating. The baking, and decorating, and Christmas movies,” he says.
She knows Bucky isn’t stupid, he was bound to figure out she was holiday season-ifying his life, but she hadn’t been sure if he would actually call her on it.
“Oh,” she says. “Uh, I was just hoping you’d enjoy the holiday season?”
“I know,” he says, a slight smile on his lips. He leans in, pressing a kiss to her cheek, his stubble rough against her skin. “Thanks, doll.”
She can feel that she’s blushing but can’t seem to stop. She smiles back, threading her fingers with his when his hand bumps hers.
“You’re welcome,” she says. “I’m just glad you’re having fun.”
“I am. I also...I saw this thing in the paper today…” Bucky trails off, suddenly looking a lot more sheepish than she’s seen him. “The Bronx Zoo is having a holiday lights thing, and I was wondering if you’d want to come with me?”
“Oh my god. Yes. YES, how did I not know about this?” Darcy says. “Yes, absolutely. When are we going?”
Bucky grins. “I got tickets for tonight if you wanted?”
“Yes," Darct says, already thinking about which Christmas sweater to wear. "Is there any way I can talk you into wearing reindeer antlers?"
"Make it a Santa hat and you've got a deal."
There are a few hours before they leave for the zoo, so instead of sitting in their separate living rooms in the same building, Bucky comes back to Darcy’s. She has some wrapping to do still so she puts on the Christmas episodes of Bob’s Burgers and settles in with her pile of wrapping paper, bows, and ribbon.
“Where do you even store all this?” Bucky asks. He’s sitting on the couch, looking down at where she’s cross-legged on the rug, surrounded by her supplies.
“This is a two-bedroom unit,” Darcy says. “I only need one bedroom to sleep in, soooo…”
“So your second bedroom is Christmas storage?” Bucky asks incredulously.
“Of course not, that’d be ridiculous,” Darcy says, taping the glittering space paper she bought for Jane’s gift. “It’s also Halloween storage, yarn storage, and book storage.” Bucky stares for a second before looking over his shoulder at the closed door to the second bedroom. Then he stands quickly. “No!” Darcy shrieks, lunging.
She’s pretty sure the only reason she manages to get ahold of his ankle is that he’s shocked that she’s lunging at him over a pile of bows. She wraps her arms around his ankles, glaring up at him as best she can from lying on her belly in a pile of Christmas bows.
“Do not go in my second bedroom,” Darcy says.
“Well, now I gotta, don’t I?” Bucky says, trying to step back, but she just tightens her arms.
“Not if you don’t want me to push you into the tiger exhibit tonight, you don’t,” Darcy says. She can see Bucky weighing his options, knowing that he could easily break her grip but not without hurting her, which he isn’t willing to do. So, a stalemate. “I promise to name you the recipient of my next knitting project if you drop it.”
Bucky looks longingly at the bedroom door, like he wants nothing more than to see the sheer amount of stuff in her hobby room. But it’s not clean right now! Normally everything is in boxes and labeled but she’d kind of ripped everything apart looking for her gold and blue globe ornament, only to remember it’d broken the year before. So right now it’s literally just piles of yarn and Halloween decorations strewn over books and packing paper from all the Christmas stuff. And Bucky doesn’t need to see that side of her yet.
“You’re killing me, doll,” he says with a groan, sitting back down on the couch. She sits up, keeping one hand on his ankle and looking at him suspiciously. He laughs, leaning back into the couch, the picture of relaxation and ease. “Okay, I promise not to peek in the forbidden bedroom. Scout’s honor.”
“Were you even a Boy Scout?” Darcy asks. Bucky just grins. She groans.
She manages to get Bucky on the ground with her to wrap gifts, and it turns out he’s really into her wrapping paper. She has Santa riding a t-rex, a unicorn in a wreath, sparking space paper, so really, she gets it, but she loves how fascinated he looks studying it. This is part of what she loves about Christmas. Fun decorations, fun wrapping paper, fun lights. Just a fun break from the norm.
And she likes having him here with her for it.
Darcy is so stoked for the zoo. She’s been to zoo lights with her friends before, but not recently and never in New York. It’s past 5:00 p.m. so it’s plenty dark already and colder than earlier. Darcy has on her Christmas cat sweater complete with fluffy puff balls, though she has a coat over it because hey, Christmas season in New York. She also has on a headband with sparkly reindeer antlers on it that jingle when she walks. She’s feeling festive as fuck.
Bucky had gone to his own apartment to change because even super soldiers need layers, and when he comes back down, he’s wearing a Santa hat, much to Darcy’s delight. When she tells him she hadn’t expected him to actually have one, he confesses he stole it from Tony, which he says is half the fun.
Darcy hasn’t been to the Bronx Zoo before but she’s immediately impressed with what they’ve done. Lights and elaborate decorations are everywhere, with displays of giant, multicolored light animals, ice sculptures, a place to roast marshmallows, even a little train to take guests around the zoo. She’s been officially wooed and it’s by the Bronx Zoo.
“I don’t want to usurp the Sam Wilson prank offensive, but this is the best idea you’ve ever had,” Darcy says, looking around with wide eyes, sure that her grin is maniacal.
“Glad you think so,” Bucky says and when she glances over, he looks genuinely pleased.
They start at the little cart selling drinks, Darcy getting an eggnog hot chocolate and Bucky a tea. She’s wearing warm gloves but the hot cup still feels great in her hands. They start down the winding path, taking in the displays around them. The giant glowing turtle and dolphins in an underwater themed display is a particular favorite of hers, and of the kindergarteners shrieking with delight in front of her.
Bucky moves closer to her when the path gets narrower, avoiding shoulder-checking an old grandpa with his grandkids. He wraps his arm around her shoulder, smiling slightly when she leans into the contact. They watch the little train go by, a group of teenagers laughing delightedly on board. Darcy’s sure her dad would frown and disapprovingly say it’s for kids, but fuck it, let them have fun too.
Darcy is thrilled that the snow leopards are out playing when they get to their enclosure. She leans against the railing, watching as they leap around in the snow, snorting when one jumps on the other, pushing him into a pile of snow.
“You and Sam as leopards?” Darcy offers to Bucky, who’s leaning next to her, their shoulders pressed together.
Bucky snorts, bumping her shoulder with his. “Or you and Jane?” he asks.
“Probably,” Darcy says. “But it would be a pouncing out of love.”
Bucky huffs a little laugh. They stand there for a while, watching the snow leopards play, Darcy leaning into his side. They’re relatively alone, most people not having traveled this far yet other than the older couple on the other side of the enclosure. She looks up at him and sees he’s already looking down at her. He blushes faintly but doesn’t look away.
“Thank you for this,” Darcy says softly.
“You’re doing a lot for others. I wanted to do something for you,” he says. She can’t help the way her heart flutters at that. She doesn’t begrudge that others around her don’t always get into the season as much as she does, but still...it’s nice to be thought of.
Then, right in front of Howard the snow leopard, he’s leaning down, giving her plenty of time to pull away. She doesn’t. She goes up on her toes, meeting him halfway, then he’s kissing her softly, one hand on her waist, the other cupping her jaw. She’s pretty sure she hears the old couple coo at them and a snow leopard snort, but she’s not pulling away to check. It’s the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to her, being kissed under the soft glow of thousands of twinkling lights by one of her favorite people during one of her favorite times of year.
When he pulls back, his face splits into a grin and it’s so purely happy that she just has to kiss him again, throwing her arms around his neck. The older couple is definitely chuckling now, but Bucky just holds her close. He takes her hand when they part, threading his fingers through hers.
“Spend Christmas with me?” she asks, looking up at him. “Jane, Thor, and I are going to Skype Erik in England, open gifts, eat an appalling amount of food...If Steve isn’t back! I’m not trying to pull you away from your epic bromance.”
“Steve won’t be back until January, most likely,” Bucky says. “And even if he were, I’d still want to spend time with you.”
“You softy,” she says, grinning.
He just shrugs. “Sometimes,” he says, giving her hand a squeeze. “Want to take a ride on that little Christmas train?”
“God, yes.”
She knows it’s not quite Christmas yet, but she’s ready to call Operation Give Bucky Barnes a Good Christmas a success.