Chapter Text
Natasha called and Bucky tapped the phone to answer it on speaker. “Hello?”
“Running late.”
“I prefer to say that I’m fashionably on time.”
“An hour and thirty minutes is not fashionably on time, James. You have me and the new teacher are literally sitting in the cold at the stop.”
“New teacher huh?” Bucky grinned. “Is she hot?”
“I’m not discussing this.”
“SHE IS HOT!”
“How far are you?”
“Ahh, two block away? I don’t know… where did you say the stop was?”
“You’re hopeless.”
“I know I am but what are you?”
Natasha hung up on him and Bucky laughed. After dealing with horrible parking, groups of the teachers had finally decided to carpool together. Tony and Sam would drive Bucky every Tuesday through Thursday, and Nat would drive with him every Monday and Friday. Sometimes, Wednesday depending on how the morning meeting went. (Currently with this new principal, the Wednesday morning meetings sucked harder than hooker. So it was starting to become a regular thing.)
This Monday, was the first Monday of the new semester at the Middle School. Bucky was totally not excited about seeing the little monsters. However, he was excited about teaching the little monsters his new chapter in American History. Just before the break, they had just finished covering World War I and were now moving on to World War II. World War II had to be the coolest thing to Bucky. Except for, you know… all the dying and the death and the horrible stuff that came along with the dying and the death. The movie Fury was on his list to show the kids, after all the cussing and the content, it was a pretty stand up movie. Now if Academic Dean Fury would allow it would be the coolest thing since he had allowed The Patriot.
Bucky pulled up to the stop to see Nat, wearing a pencil skirt and a sleeveless blouse. “No wonder you’re cold!” he hollered out to her as she opened the back door. “Jeeze…”
“Russian runs in my veins, just as much as you.” She snapped back and rubbed her hands together.
The passenger side door opened and Bucky's eyes met with strong shoulders, and baby blue eyes. “Hi, is this seat taken?” he asked with a nervous smile.
“Sure! I’m ah… James Barnes. Call me Bucky.”
“Call him James.” Nat said from the back seat texting.
“No, ignore her, call me Bucky.”
“I’m Steve. Steve Rogers.”
“Well, welcome to the neighborhood Mr. Rogers.” Bucky grinned.
“Yah… like I haven’t heard that one before.” Steve rolled his eyes and climbed in.
“So, Nat didn’t tell me you were a dude.” Bucky smiled.
“She didn’t tell me you were a dude either. I just assumed that you were a man because she told me your name was James. If you weren’t a man, I would’ve been cool with it.”
Bucky smiled. “So what do you teach?”
“English eighth grade and Art Class Two.” Steve nodded.
“Oh, so you’re replacing ah… what’s her name…”
“Mrs. Denny.” Nat said from the back without looking up from her phone.
“Mrs. D…”
“She had a nervous breakdown when she caught two of the boys making out in her art closet.” Nat chuckled and shook her head.
Bucky smiled at the memory. “They came out of the closet that day.”
“Poor kids, I’m sure they're traumatized.” Steve swallowed.
“Yeah, they were, but they have such nice examples of queer teachers to look up to. The one homophobic teacher, Mrs. D, didn’t bother them.” Bucky shrugged.
“Oh, there’s gay people on campus?”
“You have a problem with that?” Bucky asked his eyebrows raised.
“No! No, it’s just… it’s nice to be around friends.” Steve nodded and looked out the window, embarrassed.
“Oh!” Bucky chortled. “So… gay, bi, pan… queer gender? Asexual?”
“Did I hear something about Team Ace?” Nat piped up from the back.
Steve blushed. “I’m bisexual.”
“Same.” Bucky nodded and jammed a finger to the back. “Nat’s Ace.”
“Wow, I’ve never met an Ace.”
Nat gave him a half smile.
“So… but I got to ask… you’re an English teacher and an Art teacher right?”
“Yeah, I double majored in college.”
“How do you… doesn’t like English work the right side of your brain and Art the left? Something like that? I’m not saying it’s impossible, but why did you choose that?” Bucky asked.
“Oh, my mom had a thing for literature. She read me all the classics when I was a kid, and then I just love reading.”
“I can see by your specks. They make you look smart.” Bucky nodded and mimed Steve’s black plastic glasses.
Steve smiled. “Thanks, ah… then my dad was an amateur artist, but he was a horrible father, so I guess I inherited that trait from him. Whereas I gained my trait of literature from my mom.”
“Wow, that’s… amazing.” Bucky nodded.
“So… I feel bad about not knowing about you.”
“Oh, I’m the eighth grade American History teacher. I’m related to two of the presidents of the great ole’ US of A. Buchanan and Barnes. So when I figured that out, I kind of became obsessed with history. And there’s not much you can do with a history degree other than teach. I minored in P.E. though. I was in the Military, so Gym teacher with Nat here and history teacher.”
“Wow, so you served?”
Bucky nodded. “Yah, I did a tour in Iraq, got shot, then came back, then the US and its infinite wisdom decided to send me to Russia. Which is where I met Ms. Angry Red-head in my back seat.”
Nat flicked him off.
He smiled.
“Shot at?”
“Yah, arriving at a town we got bombarded by a team of not so great people. Shot me, and threw a bomb my way. I was able to get away just in time, but my whole left arm is numb.” He lifted his arm and wiggled his fingers. “I still have the motor skills, just can’t feel anything.”
“A fun game is to wait for him to take a nap, and put ice cubes on his arm. The highest anyone has gotten to is twelve.”
“I’m still mad at Tony for that.” Bucky shook his head.
“Tell him how you scare the kids every semester.”
“Oh, I grab a lighter and hold the flame under my palm and wait for them to notice.”
Steve’s jaw dropped to the ground.
“It’s hilarious.” Bucky assured him.
“Doesn’t that… well it doesn’t hurt for sure, but doesn’t that like… damage your hand?” Steve asked his eyebrows knitted with concern.
Bucky shrugged and parked at the campus. “C’mon I’ll show you to your room, if you’re the one taking over for Mrs. D, we should be right next to each other.” He beamed.
“Oh, cool!” Steve grinned and slid out of the car. He closed the door and admired the view of the old middle school. It was built during World War II as an elementary and middle school. This meant Bucky couldn’t wait to talk Steve’s ear off about the school and all the cool stuff that went with it.
“You’ve been flirting.” Nat muttered to him.
“Mm, you didn’t tell me he was cute.”
“I told you nothing.”
“Ten bucks says I can secure a dinner date by the end of the day.” Bucky looked over his shoulder to her.
“Twenty.”
“Twenty five.
Nat looked out at Steve who glanced at them nervously.
“Fifty, final offer.” She blinked up at him. Bucky remembered of how cold it was just by her glare.
“Deal.” Bucky smiled and stepped out of the car. “Steve, hey if you don’t find me being too bold, would you like to go to dinner tonight?”
Steve turned wide eyes on him. “Like a date?”
Bucky pulled an innocent look and shrugged. “If you want it to be, babe.”
Nat mouthed “Oh my God.”
Steve bit his lip and his cheeks windblown from the cold weather turned even redder. “Sure.”
In Bucky’s book, this was the best first day back ever.