Work Text:
“So we all go fondue,” Stark says with a broad smile.
The bastard is wearing a white suit, a white suit like there's no war around them.
“You ain't fondueing the captain,” Bucky snaps.
“Language, you two,” Stevie's demand is fulminant.
Bucky is the first to leave. Leaving them, he feels like he leaves his world behind, too.
Bucky walks in the tail of the column. The heat is going to be the death of him.
“C'mon, Buck!” The motor of Stevie's bike goes ron don don. She has a new leather jacket with a star on it.
“I'm fine,” Bucky says, looking forward, his jaws firm like a nutcracker. He may not a have a bike or a star, but he is a sergeant.
He needs no sympathy.
“Bucky, I need you in the headquarters. Don't act like a jerk. Let's go.”
He tells her as official as he can, "I'm fine, captain. Pick up those who really needs it."
“What's this?”
He remembers how Stevie had found his notebook.
“That's personal.”
He was desperate: she had already opened it.
“Buck,” she started slowly. “It's a poem and it is... it is... It is very bad."
"What?"
"You've got the rhythm wrong. And there are all the commas? I can't believe I helped you out with the literature at school.”
“Nice. Sure. Whatever.”
There was her name on page six. Bucky didn't even want to think what would happen if she opened it.
“Hey, Stew. Just wanted to say: you can fondue whoever you want.” Bucky swallows the words, he tries to get rid of them quicker.
“Bucky, do you know what 'fondue' means?” Stevie raises her eyes.
Shit. They really went fondue with Stark. He knows the look, she looks just like him when he does something wrong.
“Sure I do. I am twenty-four and I...”
“Fondue is melted cheese, Buck. Peggy told me yesterday. It's melted cheese.”
“I... Well... Erm... Ugh.”