Chapter Text
“You’re absolutely certain?” the redhead asked, her green eyes bright with unshed tears.
Bucky let out a quiet sigh as he placed the photos of a tall, brown-haired man wrapped around a silver-blonde bombshell. There was no mistaking the nature of their relationship.
“I’m positive,” he replied, resisting the urge to toy with a ponytail that was no longer there. The haircut was a recent change, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about the new length of his brown locks, but so far they seemed to have a positive effect on business. His friends were probably right; Bucky had been getting a little too scruffy, keeping his hair that long.
The woman sniffed and picked up the photos with a trembling hand. Carefully, she flipped through them, a scowl marring her pretty features. “Ugh,” she scoffed, dabbing at her eyes with the back of her hand. “Felicia. Of course,” she tossed the photos down and adjusted the denim jacket she wore, staring levelly at Bucky, who felt a sudden chill go down his spine. In that moment, he felt a wave of pity for the man who dared to cross Mary Jane Watson.
“Miss Watson,” he began, organizing some of his papers. “I imagine you may need a decent family law attorney. I have a friend—”
Mary Jane shook her head. “No, that won’t be necessary,” she said, grabbing her purse and pulling out her checkbook. “All of my things are in my name, and I never gave up my apartment, no matter what he wanted.” She quickly and viciously scribbled Bucky’s name and the remainder of what she owed him. “All my accounts, all my possessions—he can’t touch them, and quite frankly, I don’t want anything he could possibly have to offer.” She tore the check away from the others with a flourish, before placing it on the desk in front of Bucky. In the same move, she swept the photos of her cheating paramour into her purse as she started to rise.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Watson, despite the circumstances,” Bucky said, rising and walking quickly around the desk to get to the door. Mary Jane gave him a soft smile, and part of Bucky wondered if she knew just how effective that little expression was. He got the feeling that she knew exactly how attractive she was; whether or not she used it for her own gain, well, who was he to say?
“Likewise, Mr. Barnes. Thank you for all you did. I can make a clean break with this,” she said, offering her hand. Bucky grasped it in a friendly handshake, offering her a smile.
“If you end up needing that attorney, I can refer you. I’ve got some pretty good contacts. They’d wipe the floor with him,” Bucky responded with a quirk of his brow. Mary Jane let out a real laugh, warming Bucky’s heart as he let go of her hand. He was glad he was able to give her a little smile, despite the terrible situation she found herself in. They said their farewells, and Mary Jane left the office in long, powerful strides; a woman on a mission. Bucky shook his head.
Harry Osborn wouldn’t even know what hit him.
Cheating on Mary Jane Watson? Two-time Golden Globe winner Mary Jane Watson? Tony winner Mary Jane Watson? Academy Award nominee Mary Jane Watson? What an idiot, Bucky thought as he put away his papers. She was way out of Osborn’s league. He wasn’t even a decent scientist; he couldn’t hold a candle to his father. So much for the fate of the company. Hell, the only reason Osborn was successful at all was that he had some business sense.
But with competition like Tony Stark, Bucky had a feeling that OsCorp wouldn’t last much longer.
Bucky’s phone rang, disturbing the quiet that had fallen over his office. He reached out and picked up the receiver on the third ring, watching the way the cord draped across the desk. Some people wondered about the presence of the old, corded phone in his office when everything could be done on a cell phone or at least a cordless handheld phone, but what could he say? He was old fashioned.
“Hello?”
“Hey there, One-Armed Wonder,” a jovial, smug voice cheered at the other end, “How’s the new prosthetic? You told me you’d call.”
I thought it was speak of the devil and he shall appear, not think of the devil, Bucky thought. “Tony,” he greeted. “I’ve been busy,” he said, looking at his metal and plastic hand. He smiled as he wiggled the fingers, adjusting the phone as he examined his new limb.
“Yeah? Cheating husbands or missing dogs this time?”
“Don’t belittle me,” Bucky said, pinching the bridge of his nose with his hand. “I do important work. Life changing work. Don’t forget, I’m the one the PD called to help to catch The Shocker,” he said gruffly, thinking of the terrorist with a scowl. A little beep chimed through the receiver, indicating someone else was trying to call him. Bucky ignored it, figuring if it was important, whoever was calling would leave a message.
“You’re right, you’re right. Sorry,” Tony said regretfully. Bucky’s eyes narrowed. He detected a hint of laughter in Tony’s voice. “But seriously, cheating husband or missing dog?”
Bucky rolled his eyes and stood up, grasping the phone with his prosthetic hand. “I’m hanging up now,” he threatened.
“Wait, wait, I’m actually sorry this time. Don’t hang up!” Tony laughed. Bucky shook his head, drumming his fingers against his desk.
“What do you want, Stark?”
“Sheesh, you make one joke,” Tony chuckled. “Is the arm working out alright?”
Bucky shook out the prosthetic a little, bending the joints. Why Tony hadn’t started developing medical technology sooner, Bucky had no idea. The man just understood how things needed to be built to get the job done. It worked more smoothly than any other he had before, and regaining the fine motor function—something thought he’d lost forever—was nothing short of a miracle. “It’s great. Working fine, no kinks so far. I mean, it looks a little clunky, but I make do,” Bucky said with a smirk.
“Whoa, what are you calling clunky? That is streamlined.”
“Uh-huh,” Bucky chuckled.
“I’m glad to hear it’s working out for you,” Tony said, a subtle hint of relief coloring his tone. “Uh, I’m not only calling about that, to be honest.” Bucky frowned, waiting for Tony to continue. It wasn’t like him to be at a loss for words. “There’s something else—did you know I’m getting married on Saturday?”
“Of course I know you’re getting married on Saturday,” Bucky scoffed. “Everyone knows you’re getting married on Saturday. The details for your upcoming nuptials are all over Starz, People, and the New York Times.”
“Right,” Tony laughed nervously. “So, uh,” he hesitated and Bucky had to work very hard not to let out a sigh of frustration at Tony’s hemming and hawing. “Do you want to come?”
Bucky almost dropped the phone.
“What?” he asked, flatly. The wedding was in three days. Bucky didn’t know if there was any chance of clearing up his schedule to make time for it.
“You and a friend? Mandatory plus one. Well, okay, not mandatory, but I know you don’t like to stand out and believe me the people who don’t bring dates to my wedding will stand out.”
“What?” Scratch that. There was definitely no way he’d be able to clear his schedule and find a date in three days.
“Open bar. Filet mignon. Pâté. Imported chocolate,” Tony rambled.
“Tony.”
“And the venue is fantastic. Have you ever been to the Plaza Hotel?”
“Tony!” Bucky said firmly, scowling a little. “I appreciate the invitation, but I can’t just—”
“I need your help, Barnes.”
Bucky paused, frowning at the seriousness in Tony’s voice. “What’s going on?”
“I can’t,” Tony sighed, cutting himself off. “Look, I need to talk to you. Come to the wedding. Bring a date. A trustworthy date.”
“Why can’t you just come down to my office?”
“When I have the chance to see you dressed up in a tux?” Bucky frowned as Tony’s joke was delivered in a flat tone, betraying the seriousness of the situation.
“Okay,” Bucky sighed, reluctantly.
“Really?”
“Don’t make me say it twice, Stark,” Bucky growled.
“I owe you, Barnes,” Tony said, gratefully. “See you then.” With a click, the billionaire was gone.
Bucky let out a slow exhale, wondering what the hell he just got himself into. Well, there was no changing it now. He may as well work with it. First things first: Bucky needed to find a date.
In three days.
He let out a small growl of frustration and opened his desk drawer, pulling out his address book. There had to be someone he could ask. Maybe Bobby was available. He was so icy, though. As he flipped through the little book, a blinking red light on his phone caught his attention. He had almost forgotten about the call he got while talking to Tony. He dropped his address book on his desk in favor of hitting the button on his phone to access his voicemail. He went through the prompts to enter his password and listen to his saved messages until finally the new message was playing, loud and clear in his office.
“You have one new message received today at 2:53 PM.” Bucky rolled his eyes at the automated voice. The ridiculous emphasis on the details of the message never ceased to annoy him. Maybe he could convince Tony to rig up an actual answering machine. With a tape recorder. Like back in the good old days. Sometimes, he really missed the 90s.
“Hey, Bucky,” a smooth, confident voice filled the investigator’s office. He sat up straight, staring at his phone. “It’s Steve. I’m hoping you can get back to me. I found a new lead for Sam’s case. Leila Taylor—she’s an old friend of his—well, she gave me a call and she said there’s a way to access footage from the office. She said the security system they use uploads the information online, and once something is on the internet, it never goes away, right? I wanted to see if you could look into it. Give me a call.”
Finally, something Bucky could actually work with. Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers’ case was a difficult one; the pair was accused of stealing from their former employer. Steve was lucky Bucky managed to find proof the man hadn’t been anywhere near the scene of the crime. The former star athlete had every reason to steal funds from the owner of the New York Jets, after everything that went down with his contract and treatment both on and off the field since he came out. Sam, though—well, Bucky was hired to protect Steve, not anyone else. Steve knew in his bones that his friend was innocent as well. They just had to prove it. Bucky had a bit of a soft spot for guys who stood up for what was right, despite all the obstacles in their way. The fact that he and Steve were old acquaintances didn’t hurt.
To try to dig up old security footage from a webserver though? That would be quite a task, and most likely out of Steve’s budget.
A lightbulb went off in Bucky’s head. He grabbed the receiver and dialed Steve Rogers immediately.
“Hello?”
“Hey, punk,” Bucky heard a scoff that turned into a chuckle on the other end. “Listen, digging up that kind of footage is incredibly difficult. It would take a lot of hours that, quite frankly, you can’t afford.”
Steve let out a rueful sigh. “I had a feeling you would say that.”
“Lucky for you, I’ll take a favor as part of the payment,” Bucky rushed on.
“Huh?”
“I have to go to a wedding on Saturday, and I need a date. What do you say?”
“Bucky,” Steve began, hesitantly, “it’s not that I don’t appreciate the invite, but I’m pretty well known. This could turn into a tabloid mess for you.”
“It won’t,” Bucky said firmly. “It’s Tony Stark’s wedding.”
“Tony Stark’s wedding?” Steve asked, disbelievingly.
“Yeah.”
“Tony Stark the billionaire? No offense, but how the hell did you get an invite to Tony Stark’s wedding?”
“Uh, some offense taken,” Bucky said gruffly. “We’re old friends and he needs to see me. Believe me, you’ll fit right in, and if you’re my date I won’t suddenly show up on one of New York’s most eligible secret bachelor lists. You do this for me, I’ll do the research you need for half my normal rate. Deal?”
Steve stuttered for a moment on the other line. “I—yes. Yeah, I can do that. Just a wedding date, right? Congratulate the couple and drink free champagne? I should warn you now, I can’t dance any better now than I could in high school,” he chuckled.
“Trust me, Steve, there will be no dancing.”
“Alright,” Steve said in agreement. “Should I pick you up at your office? Or do you want to come get me?”
They finished making plans for the impromptu date, and Bucky hung up the phone feeling a wave of relief. At least he had that sorted out. Steve would be a gentlemen, and he wasn’t bad to look at. The worst that would come of this would be some terrible football stories that Bucky would have to listen to on the drive over. Then he could meet with Tony and find out what the hell had the man so worked up.
Now, his only worry was clearing the rest of his God-forsaken schedule. He was going to have some very unhappy clients pretty soon. He frowned, shaking his head and letting out a little huff.
Where the hell am I gonna find a tux?
