Work Text:
“Happy anniversary, babe,” Bucky said, sliding a wrapped box onto the table.
Tony looked up in surprise. “No gifts,” he said. “I distinctly remember you telling me that dating anniversaries shouldn’t count and that there’s nothing special about a second anniversary anyway, and that we shouldn’t exchange gifts this year.”
“Oh, Tony,” Natasha sighed from around her coffee. “No gifts is always code for gifts please. How could you not know that?”
“I’ve never been in a relationship where someone tried to tell me not to buy them things before,” Tony protested. “How was I supposed to know?”
Bucky shot Natasha a glare. “I meant it,” he said. “This is just a little thing I picked up on that last mission. I was going to give it to Tony anyway, and I figured, since our ‘anniversary’--” Tony could practically see the finger-quotes, even though Bucky didn’t so much as twitch. “--was so close, I might as well save it for a few days.”
“Which is very sweet, but I don’t have anything to give you,” Tony said, feeling guilty.
“I know,” Bucky said. He leaned over to kiss Tony’s cheek. “Tell you what, you wear that little black number to bed tonight and I’m a happy man.”
“Little black-- You mean the--”
“Yeah.”
“With the--”
“Uh-huh.”
“Kinky,” Tony said, smirking. “I like it. Done deal.” He pulled the present closer, turning it this way and that. Something inside made a soft clattering sound, like plastic or wood parts. “Should I open this now, or...?”
“Go ahead,” Bucky said. “I want to watch.”
“That’s what she said,” Natasha said. She tossed back the rest of her coffee and left the mug in the sink. “I’ll see you guys later.”
Carefully, Tony untied the shiny golden ribbons and unwrapped the heavy red paper. Inside was a wooden box, a gorgeous thing of inlaid wood in multiple shades and colors, sanded smooth and lacquered to a high polish. Tony lifted the lid -- or at least, he tried. The lid did not budge.
Tony tipped it one way and then the other, listening to the sound inside. There was no other lid that he could see. He looked up at Bucky with a raised eyebrow.
Bucky was grinning. “Ran into this shop that makes puzzle boxes,” he said. “I told them I wanted their most diabolical one; figured that way you might make it last five minutes or so.”
Tony laughed. “Yeah, okay.” He started examining the box more closely, testing for shifting panels and listening for the movement of internal weights, which was made harder by the clattering of whatever was inside.
All told, it took him a solid eight and a half minutes to slide the last piece into position and hear the soft click! of the box unlocking. “Okay, that was fun,” he said. “My compliments to the artists.”
“I’ll be sure to tell ‘em,” Bucky said. “I kept their card.”
With a sense of anticipation, Tony lifted the lid. Inside was... a jumble of jigsaw puzzle pieces.
He shot Bucky a look, and Bucky just smiled back. Tony dumped the pieces out and started sorting.
Most of the pieces were plain white, but a bunch of them had scattered dots and lines on them. “Is this... Morse code?” Tony asked, squinting at one piece that looked like a W, or maybe a G, depending on which way it was turned.
“Yep,” said Bucky, popping the word with relish.
Tony got all the pieces spread out and then sighed. “This is going to take a little longer.” He got up and refreshed his coffee before setting to work.
“Don’t help him, Friday,” Bucky warned.
It took half an hour for Tony to assemble the middle of the puzzle, ignoring the plain white pieces around the edges.
- . -. / - .-- . -. - -.-- - .-- --- / - .-- . -. - -.-- ..-. .. ...- . / - .-- . -. - -.-- ..-. .. ...- . / - .-- . .-.. ...- . / - .-- --- / . .. --. .... - / - .-- . -. - -.-- ... .. -..- / ..-. --- ..- .-. - . . -. / ..-. .. ...- . / ..-. .. ...- . / - .-- . .-.. ...- . / - .-- . -. - -.-- ... .. -..- / . .. --. .... - . . -.
“Cheater,” Bucky said fondly.
“Innovative thinker,” Tony countered, already reading it. “Ten, twenty-two, twenty-five, twenty-five, twelve, two, eight, twenty-six, fourteen, five, five, twelve, twenty-six, eighteen. You know, they do have Morse codes for actual numerals; you don’t have to spell them out like this.”
“Yeah, but this way is more fun.”
Tony flicked up a holographic screen from his phone and wrote in the numbers. 10 22 25 25 12 2 8 26 14 5 5 12 26 18. “Do I need to break out my cipherkey for this?” Tony wondered.
“Nah, it’s a simple substitution code,” Bucky said. “You can handle it.”
“Okay, smart money says either the 5s or the 25s are E,” Tony muttered, and started assigning letters to the various numbers, seemingly at random. “Short codes are the hardest to break,” he groused. “Okay, what if...”
Ten minutes later, he narrowed his eyes. “It’s the simplest substitution code,” he growled. “A is 1, B is 2... and the message is still encoded.” He swiped a hand across the screen, and the numbers flickered and reformed: J V Y Y L B H N E E L Z R
That one, he only looked at for a minute or two before huffing. “You ROT-13’ed it. W-I-L-L-Y-O-U-M-A--”
He broke off, eyes wide and breath suddenly short. “Bucky...”
“Go on, babydoll. Finish it off.”
Tony wasn’t looking at the holograph hovering over the table, the letters flickering as he translated them. His eyes met Bucky’s as he finished, “R-R-Y-M-E.”
Bucky smiled sheepishly. “I didn’t get you a ring,” he admitted. “Thought maybe we could go pick something out together. That is, if...?”
Tony looked at the unfinished jigsaw still laid out on the table, the pretty puzzle box. “You know, sometimes it seems my whole life is a series of puzzles, and most of them not anywhere as enjoyable as these. But when I look at you, it feels like finding the perfect solution.”
“That a yes?” Bucky wondered, half-smiling.
Tony launched out of his chair and into Bucky’s arms, tucking his face up against Bucky’s neck. “Yes.”