Chapter Text
It was a little known fact around the Tower that Bucky Barnes had a major sweet tooth.
His little secret was that some days he’d sneak off into the city, baseball cap and sunglasses in tow as he poached a bistro table at a local bakery (one of many he kept on his shortlist) and enjoyed some time outside the Tower. Just him, a cup of coffee, and some sort of delicacy— usually sugary sweet.
Steve and maybe a couple of others had caught him on one of his runs, but never said anything, not wanting to turn what was probably one of his healthier habits into a sore spot.
Today was one of those days.
The snow outside was just starting to fall, the sun barely peeking through the cracks in the fluffy clouds, and it seemed like the perfect way to celebrate the first proper winter day of the season. Bundled up, only to fit in with the rest of the Manhattan regulars, the cold was also an easy excuse to pull his hood a little further down his face.
People-watching — surveillance, technically — used to be his bread and butter day-job, and some might have assumed he’d be sick of the instinct by now. But the former assassin was content to watch those as-to-close-to domestic moments could get, leisurely sipping his hot cocoa in the back corner of the cafe. Maybe it was the jingle bells hanging from the Christmas tree in the corner, the tinsel or maybe even the good old fashioned popcorn strung around the fir.
Whatever it was, Bucky Barnes was feeling a little warm and fuzzy himself.
Was this what people called nostalgia? He wondered, thoughts drifting to cold nights at his apartment with Brooklyn, huddled under blankets with Rebecca and a much smaller Steve.
The jingle of the bell and the little giggle and hop of tiny feet onto the fuzzy doormat cut into his train of thought.
Bucky watched as a young girl bolted straight to the pastry display, tiny hands and nose smooshed against the glass. She couldn’t have been older than six, but she was the perfect picture of carefree. Her brown hair was in two neat plaits on either side of her face, hot pink mittens held to her coat by strings trailing behind her on the floor. But it wasn’t her that caught Bucky’s attention.
Not exactly.
Because on further inspection, he realized it was Darcy Lewis who sidled up behind her. Darcy snaked her arms around the little girl’s waist, hoisting her up to ogle the treats a little closer. There was something familiar about the giggle that followed, something in his stomach dropping into the abyss as he watched.
Darcy’s wide grin broke into a whisper that Bucky could just make out over the noise of the rest of the bakery. “Do you know which one you want, Maisie?”
“Ummm, I want the chocolate one there,” Maisie replied, finger pointed to the front left of the display.
Darcy set her back down on the ground, as Maisie craned her neck to try to see over the counter that dwarfed her by a few inches. It was different, though, the way Darcy looked down at her; it was unlike any look he’d ever seen of hers. There was a sadness lingering just below the surface. One that drew him closer, leaning into his elbows as he took it in, feeling guilty.
Feeling like he was intruding on their moment.
It was none of his business, really. They weren’t even that close. Barely colleagues. But even he recognized that as the same lie he’d been telling himself the last few weeks, hearing it in the same rote tone he’d used to answer Steve when he stopped by to ‘check in on him’ three days ago.
Bucky absentmindedly rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to figure out how to make himself known before this whole thing got more awkward.
“Make that a dozen assorted and one chocolate fudge cupcakes,” Darcy offered to the server behind the counter. “We can drop them off at the Tower before I show you my place, munchkin.”
Before Bucky could find the right moment to announce himself and stop being the creeper in the corner, Darcy spotted him. Eyes wide and awkward smile pasted on his face, he gave a wave, watching as Maisie followed Darcy’s glance with a scrunched face.
“Still have that sweet tooth, I see.”
She didn’t greet him with a hug or a brush of her shoulder. There was no offering of coffee or baked goods in return for a little conversation. The roles had changed— a lot had changed. They were just two adults here. Two adults that happened to know and run into each other on the street.
“Always,” Bucky chuckled. “It’s been a while, Darce. How’ve you been?”
Darcy Lewis had quietly left town a month back, citing some family emergency, and hadn’t returned since— part of the reason Bucky wasn’t exactly expecting to run into her on the street. Foster had taken the opportunity to make her rounds on the conference circuit while she was away, still somewhere in Europe by his count.
Not that he made a habit to know where every person in the Tower was at all times. Darcy was a bit of a special case, if he was honest.
Not that he’d ever say it out loud.
But needless to say, she’d been missed. The Tower always seemed quieter without the giggles trailing down the halls and the flashes of white teeth and red lips that slipped past every floor to ceiling glass panel in the place. Quieter without the buzz of his phone, lighting up with some pop culture reference she wanted to school him on.
“Too polite to say I dropped off the face of the f—” her eyes snapped down to Maisie, seemingly rethinking her choice of words “—udging planet, huh?”
That was probably the first time someone had called Bucky polite (to his face and otherwise), which caught him a little off guard, scrambling to find some excuse to write it off.
“Wasn’t sure how much you wanted to say with little ears present.”
Maisie immediately pouted, feeling ignored by the two adults talking like she wasn’t there.
“My ears aren’t that little!”
“You’re absolutely right. They’re the perfect size,” Darcy chuckled, crouching down slightly to wrap an arm around her and pulling the girl into her side. “Maisie, I want you to meet someone. This is my friend Bucky from work.”
Friend. Was that what they were?
Maisie was a little shy, hip locked to Darcy’s side as her little hands latched onto her wool jacket.
“Is he an Avenger?”
Bucky honed in on the little red, white and blue shield pin on her wool jacket. Steve would have melted at the sight, and he’d be a liar if he said the sparkle in her eyes didn’t warm his insides.
“Yep,” Darcy said, eyes locked on his. “Bucky, this is my niece Maisie. She’s, uh, living with me now.”
Bucky crouched down to Maisie’s height, watching as her big green eyes snapped to him, “It’s nice to meet you, Maisie.”
She squeezed Darcy’s hand and looked up at her for permission before replying, “Nice to meet you, too.”
That little hesitation, the insistence of staying at Darcy’s side spoke volumes.
“Do you want to tell Bucky how old you are?”
She shrunk back a little, nervously smiling as she held up her open palm, “Five.”
“Wow, five whole years old?” Bucky breathed with the kind of smile he reserved for kids— and maybe kids at heart, he thought, looking back up to Darcy.
But in that brief silence after her reply, the one where Bucky tried to find the right words to say to Darcy that would lead to the least awkward conversation, Maisie was already distracted by the servers crossing the floor in their pink and brown aprons. Which was more comforting than Bucky would ever admit, half-expecting the kid to run screaming away from the tall, long-haired man before her.
“I bet the SI rumour mill was working in full force while I was away,” Darcy muttered, trying to sound casual as she shifted her weight from foot to foot.
“Tony was convinced you’d abandoned him, but you know me. I don’t put much stock in rumours,” Bucky replied. “I’m just glad you’re OK.”
A beat of silence and a flush across her face would have read different a few months back. Maybe led to something. They had danced around each other all year at this point, rushed moments in hallways and early mornings. Sweets anonymously slipped into his suite after hours. The occasional coffee run or escape from the Tower. The odd night sharing the same bed.
And from the look on Darcy’s face, Bucky could tell she was thinking the same.
But the pitter patter of tiny feet and a very impatient Maisie sobered the moment and Darcy was back to chewing at her lower lip. Another nervous habit. Another tell.
“You in town long?” Bucky offered, trying to cut the awkwardness.
The subconscious flicker in her expression told him she wasn’t about to give him a straight answer. Still, Darcy plastered a smile on her face, something akin to what she’d wear at the Tower behind every awful call with the press— something Bucky could see through like freshly-polished glass.
“I was actually just about to stop by Clint’s for a tour.”
The mood darkened slightly as Bucky put the rest of the pieces together, softening at Maisie’s saucer eyes at the array of colourful baked goods behind the counter. It almost seemed normal, them here as family, treating the kid to something sweet. Something you’d do to celebrate a milestone… Or cheer someone up.
Or distract them from the harsher parts of life, holding onto that last bit of childhood innocence.
It was hard to look at the two, knowing all the unsaid things that lurked beneath.
Bucky knew this must have been the family emergency she’d been pulled away for, that much he’d been able to connect. But a tour of her apartment at Clint’s didn’t sound like Darcy was staying long, and by her tone, he’d bet she didn’t have the words to tell him.
And suddenly he wanted to stretch the short time they did have.
“Need a chaperone? I’m off duty today.”
It wasn’t entirely true; he was still on call as far as the Avengers were concerned, but he doubted Stevie would want Darcy off her own for a bad news mission. At least, that’s what this felt like: a drawn out goodbye.
He managed to get a real smile out of her this time, “I’d love that.”
Bucky quickly tossed the rest of his cocoa, grabbing the stack of cupcake boxes off the counter before Darcy could protest and slipping a bill into the tip jar.
“First stop: Stark Tower.”