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“Fuck,” Shuri groaned, shoving away from the table. She’d wanted nothing more than to flip the board, send pieces flying. She just couldn’t seem to wrap her head around why she – the genius that she was – couldn’t seem to gain the upper hand against Bucky in even one round of Camelot.
When he’d first mentioned it, Shuri had been intrigued. A game of strategy from the early 30s, she'd imagined, may have helped with his recovery effort. It would have been a memory from the past, something positive from a time when there wasn’t much positive for Bucky to cling to, while also giving him a way to exercise his mind.
What she hadn’t expected was to be utterly blown out of the water on every round that afternoon. If she was honest, she’d intended to let him win, at least once, so he could feel as though he’d given her a fair fight. But here she was, nearly an hour in and not one win under her belt – and it wasn’t as though she hadn’t been trying; she really had.
“You wanna call it a night, Sugar? We don’t have to keep doing this if you’re gettin’ sick of it,” Bucky reasoned, watching with amusement as she paced the length of his hut.
“No, you’re enjoying yourself,” she snapped in a way that made it seem as though perhaps she didn't appreciate that fact, “We’ll play another round.”
“You know, there’s no shame in losing,” he continued, even as they set the board up once again. “Not against me, anyway. This was the only board game we had in the house growing up; we got a lot of mileage out of it. I mean it; I’ve got a lot of practice.”
“Keep bragging,” she murmured as she leaned over the board once again, taking her seat, “This is the last round. Winner takes all.”
“All of what? We weren’t playin' for anything.”
Shuri rolled her eyes, her face growing hot, “I don’t know. All the bragging rights.”
“All right, Sugar. Bragging rights,” he murmured with a shake of his head and a little chuckle.
It wasn’t even five minutes later that he’d been declared victor. Shuri fumed as she returned the pieces to their box, muttering this and that about next time and a rematch.
“You know something, Sugar?” Bucky asked, scooping her into his arms once she’d collapsed next to him on the bed.
“Hm.”
“I’ll give you as many rematches as you want,” he said pointedly, “You’re so hot when you’re angry.”
She sat up then, gasping out a laugh as she smacked playfully at his chest. “You don’t think I can beat you?”
“Oh, I know you can’t.”
“I’m going to prove you wrong. Tomorrow.”
He shrugged, rolling toward her then with humor in his eyes, “Bragging rights and the opportunity to see you all angry and flustered for a second time?”
“Yes or no, Barnes?” she asked, her eyebrow quirked with an amused half-smile.
“You’re on.”
