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The metal detector buzzed loudly at the court entrance for the third time in two minutes, distracting Bucky from the introductory spiel being given by the jury wrangler clerk… person.
His nerves were already fraying from being back in a place like this at all and he'd misjudged the importance of being on time and arrived at 7:40 for a summons that said 8am even though apparently they didn't start anything until 8:45… he really could've used the extra time in bed this morning.
Although then he might have ended up just as late to this circus as the tall blond crashing in to the jury pool room right now. Given the timing and how agitated and frazzled the man looked, Bucky guessed he'd been the source of the metal detector going off.
"Please take a seat, sir, I'll get to you at the end."
The clerk had been nothing but amiable so far but the blond seemed to wilt under her disapproval, slinking quietly to the back row and squeezing in next to Bucky as though he could hide there unnoticed. Judging by his height and the size of his biceps, Bucky was pretty sure any attempt the guy made at not being noticed would be futile.
He was fidgety too, bouncing his leg up and down throughout the whole video about the seriousness of serving on a jury. It was almost annoying but Bucky felt a twinge of sympathy instead. Maybe he wasn't the only person nervous about being here.
Or maybe the guy thought he was too good for jury duty, considering the awkward argument he got into about whether or not he could leave.
"I really dont think I'm supposed to be here ma'am."
"Is your name on the summons?"
"Yes but -"
"Are you between 18 and 70 years old and a US citizen living in this state?"
"Well, yes -"
"Then you are supposed to be here. It's just one day, sir, everyone is required to serve in order to keep our judicial system fair. Just be patient, okay?”
“Okay.”
Bucky had to glance away to keep himself from smirking at the oddly adorable pout. He tried to focus on reading the book he’d brought, but it was a tough slog on the best of days, which this was very much not.
“So, uh, come here often?”
He looked up slowly, unable to control his absolutely incredulous look at this guy who used a pick up line during jury duty .
“Only once every three years,” he answered drolly.
“Sure, sure. That’s how often they can call you right?”
“Yep.” Bucky bit back a smile, before deciding to throw the guy a bone because really, first impressions notwithstanding, he was inexplicably charmed by this earnest, beautiful, and very chatty man.
“I’m Bucky, by the way.”
“Clint.”
They shook hands, holding on a little too long afterwards before awkwardly letting go. It might’ve been embarrassing, but however much of a flush Bucky could feel on his own cheeks, he could see more of one on Clint’s, so it evened out.
“I’ve never done this before,” Clint confessed.
“Jury duty?” It wasn’t necessarily uncommon, especially for someone who moved around a lot. This was only Bucky’s second time being called either. “It’s not that bad. Mostly boring, unless you end up getting seated.”
“Alright, don’t get seated, noted.” His eyes twinkled in amusement. “So what part of Brooklyn are you in?”
They fell quickly into conversation, with an undercurrent of flirting that Bucky was certain was mutual. A certainty that was confirmed two hours later when the clerk abruptly announced they’d be heading up to the courtroom now and Clint turned to him with a slightly panicked look on his face.
“Hey, can I give you my number? Kinda want to keep chatting after this is all over.”
“Yeah, here.”
He smiled as Clint stuck his tongue out in concentration, poking slowly at the phone to put his information in. He had just finished as Bucky’s juror number was called out, so he took the phone back quickly, figuring he’d just send Clint a text later to connect.
The rules were very explicit after all: no cellphones in the courtroom.
They filed in slowly and sat down on hard, unforgiving wooden benches. Bucky didn’t really want to get selected as a juror, but the chairs in the box looked a hell of a lot more comfortable than what he was currently sitting on.
The judge gave a brief welcome and told them the charges while Bucky barely held back a groan. Assault and battery. Brilliant. Couldn't have been a nice civil fraud case or anything, no, had to jump straight to the worst case scenario. Well, almost the worst case, he mused. It could've been a murder case instead.
Besides, it wouldn’t be too hard to not get picked for this jury with his history.
The judge led them through the usual oath to answer questions honestly. Bucky wondered idly how they would’ve handled it if he’d lost his right arm instead of the left. Could be awkward for the court, to be confronted by their own casual ableism. But then again, traditions being what they were, they might just automatically excuse someone without a right arm.
The group questions were mildly awkward, just as they had been last time. Although, this time no one objected to the idea of defendants being innocent until proven guilty, so that was a good start.
Bucky answered yes only to the question about being or knowing a victim of a violent crime, but Clint answered yes a lot. Victim of a violent crime, knowing people in the courts, knowing people in law enforcement, having some kind of biased opinion about police officers… and Bucky actually had to bite back a laugh at how emphatically Clint let the court know that he couldn’t serve on this jury for other, unspecified reasons.
He did not, however, answer yes to the ‘do you have a medical issue or hearing problems that would affect your ability to be a juror’ question. Which, given the bright purple hearing aids, felt like it might be very pointed. Bucky didn’t quite know him well enough yet to say either way.
They had just started calling people up to the sidebar when a loud jangling alarm went off, startling the hell out of absolutely everyone except for Clint, who was both the source of the noise and now the target of everyone’s irritation.
“Sir, you were explicitly told to silence your phone. You need to turn that off immediately or be held in contempt of court.”
“Yep, sorry, lemme just -” Clint shimmied his way down the row of seats with an impressive amount of speed given the lack of space.
“Sir please, you need to silence your phone -”
“It’s not a phone!” he interrupted, waving the shrieking phone-like object over his head. “It’s a pager, I need to go, I’m so sorry, excuse me.”
“You haven’t been dismissed, you need to sit back down and turn that off -”
“There’s a portal just opened up in Manhattan and giant demon rats are coming through it. I’m an Avenger and I need to be there now .”
Bucky blue-screened briefly.
When he came back to the present, the courtroom had erupted and Clint was using the chaos to slip quickly out of the back door. An Avenger, huh? Well, that certainly explained why he’d wanted so desperately to get out of jury duty.
While everyone was distracted, Bucky took the opportunity to discreetly open his own phone, still on the ‘new contact’ page, and hit the button to finally send a text.
“Hey, this is Bucky. Didn’t get the chance to give you my number, but I’d love to meet up once you’re done saving the world ;)”