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The Congressman rarely ever smiled. Always wore that resting face Sam constantly reminded him of. Didn't converse much outside of politics talk, and even that was very little because he didn't understand half of it. Or more he didn't care. The goal was and always will be to take down whatever shady shit Valentina was involved with. Sooner or later, her down fall will come. He'd rather sooner.
The press, God, he hated the press. Less than half a term and he's already ready to quit. Turn in his resignation letter now as we speak. The Congressman never had a reason to trust the system, yet the title he wore gave him no choice. So, as he walked into where the impeachment proceedings were being held, his eyes didn't fall to the suspect on trial. They landed on the woman sitting next to Congressman Gary. You.
He sat down, watching and listening intently to the hearing. Valentina's undeniable charisma and charm didn't go unnoticed, which couldn't have bothered him more. He's played these games before.
Your eyes only met his one time when he walked in and took his seat. His chest might've tightened a bit. A little warm under the collar. You were composed; poised. Professional. Damn good at your job. Dressed prim and polished. Not "out there" but it's not like you didn't draw eyes to you every once in a while.
Luckily, she didn't have the entire committee under her thumb. Gary, you, and many others on the board weren't hearing her bullshit. He spoke, you added on, making it clear that the investigation was due to continuation. No matter how confident Valentina seemed in her innocence plea.
The meeting ended. The Congressman's eyes lingered as Valentina passed by him. At first off in space, then to you. He stood up when you did. Keep it subtle. He walked out, a little more pep in his step. He watched people file out with nods and an attempted smile of acknowledgment like he wasn't waiting on one person to round that corner.
You were speaking with someone when you rounded the corner. Passing by Bucky without even glancing his way. He felt stuck. He wanted to reach out and get your attention but the words died in the back of his throat. He let his metal hand dangle at his side as he watched you descend the corridor. Even your walk was perfect. Effortless. Wore that pantsuit like it was nobody's business.
He tore his eyes from you and he sighed. Bucky couldn't help but feel stuck in time when he was around you. Hell, merely seeing you teleports him back to '43. He feels like that solider in his late twenties who wants to impress the young lady he spotted at a diner. The girl he'd write letters to. Some tear stained. Some playful. Some just plain sincere. You just reminded him so much of that time, he started to picture all types of scenarios. You'd be someone he never got to give a proper farewell to. Someone The sergeant would be too shy and too lovestruck to actually say something to.
Bucky swore he'd forgotten all about that time. He didn't have a choice. It was foggy. Fragments of, ironically, the happiest he had been. Despite being drafted. He hadn't smiled like that in a long time. Last time was when he spent time with the Wilsons. The few conversations you've shared, though, had him cheesing. Almost like everything up to this point was worth it.
The cryo, the torture, the deafening screams. Forgetting any and everything that tied him back to James Buchanan Barnes. How ice cold and fiery hot his veins felt during and after every brain wipe. One snicker at a stupid joke he made about how frustrating the system was worth it all. Every moment with you was better than the last.
"Barnes." he was startled out of his daydreaming upon hearing a voice to his right. Bucky looked over and saw you standing there with an apologetic expression on your face. "My apologies if I scared you there." you continued with a sheepish laugh.
Bucky almost lost his train of thought there, but now with you actually standing here he couldn't just blink you away.
"No, no, all good. You're good." he said as he returned your energy as best he could. "I was just thinking about all this." he added while gesturing around to their surroundings. The implications were hopefully there. He couldn't help but cringe at his own self whenever he talked to people. Especially you.
"Ah, yes. This investigation, this case is no joke. They're doing the best they can to uncover the truth on Valentina. But, enough with that. I couldn't help but notice I walked straight past you earlier. My assistant told me it looked like you had something to say but I was too in the zone to tell. Unless she read that wrong...?"
Bucky nodded along as you finished talking, "I did, yeah. I, uh, I was wondering if you were going to, err..." he trailed off, trying to cover up his nerves with a dry chuckle. "Are you going to the gala tonight?" he finally spit out. A part of him holding on strong enough to not let his eyes trail any further than your eyes.
Your laugh matched his as you thought about it, checking your watch. "I'm not entirely sure." you said. He hoped you didn't hear him gulp. "I'm kind of behind on some paperwork I should've signed and gotten done a few days ago. There's a chance, but it's small."
Bucky gave a look of understanding even if he was a little disappointed. That was really the only thing he was looking forward to since he was only going to keep an eye out. Maybe get Mel on board.
"Understandable. Well, I hope that small chance trumps all. Don't think I've ever seen you without pants." he replied. After about two seconds his face went pale. You narrowed your eyes and his collar suddenly felt tighter than before.
"Oh?"
"I am so sorry, that is not how I meant that to come out-"
"-I think I got what you meant." you cut him off and turned halfway to leave but couldn't hide the smile growing on your face. "I'll see you around."
Bucky waved weakly as you walked away. Didn't even have the energy to say goodbye. Of all words that could be put together in an English sentence, really? He tried to shake it off and not overthink and/or panic. Just go on about his day.
To nobody's surprise, the gala felt stuffy and snobby. Not a single sincere conversation within an earshot of him as he traversed the floors. He couldn't bear anymore fake smiles and short lived laughs at dry, corny jokes that he definitely didn't understand. So, he took to brooding on the second floor. Standing at the banister and watching over people like there was something brewing.
The Congressman couldn't help but let his mind drift off again as he leaned forward on his elbows. Seeing these people dressed up, champagne in hand and conversing gave parlor vibes. Back in his day when socializing at least seemed desired. And without missing a beat, he'd have a dame on his arm for the night. Then he thought of you. Again.
If only you actually had time to be here. So hard working and caring or whatever. Imagine. He could only sigh and smile to himself, wondering what it'd be like to hold you close and drown out the noise.
The banister shifted forward very slightly from the extra weight, but not from him. He blinked with furrowed brows thinking he accidentally put too much pressure using his metal arm.
"Congressman."
Bucky jolted again, like earlier. You stood there, leaning on your hip. He turned his attention to you. He caught himself before he started gawking.
Eyes up here!
"Congresswoman." he replied but he made it so obvious he was completely caught off guard. Not necessarily by your sudden presence but surely how you were not wearing pants. A gorgeous gown in your favorite color--he remembered--paired with that necklace you always wore under your collar.
"Someone's feeling social today."
Bucky scoffed, but not at you. He briefly glanced at the crowd below and rolled his eyes.
"Would you want to talk to these people about 'diplomacy' and 'the climate of D.C. politics' right now?"
You immediately shook your head with a halfhearted smirk. "Hell no." you said. "That was apart of the paperwork I was just finishing up."
Bucky listened to you talk about what your last three to four hours looked like. Paperwork stacked to your knees but luckily most of it was just putting your signature on it and mailing it out. Then it started up again. Young James Barnes by happen chance meeting a girl that he was genuinely interested in what she had to say.
"Wow, that's...a lot." he commented. Your gaze met his for a moment before he smiled at you in attempts to make sure he didn't look inevitably threatening due to his resting face.
"Yeah." was all you could say back because you really were stressed. And Valentina's case didn't make it any easier.
Bucky noticed immediately.
He held out his flesh hand towards you before saying anything, watching your eyes fall to his palm.
"May I have this dance?" he asked. He figured, fuck it. There was no better time than to ask. He'd been bumbling most of the time you two talked. Words weren't really his strong suit...but he could've told you that.
You took his warm hand in yours without second thought. He didn't even really move far from the banister either. The second floor wasn't as crowded so he was going to take advantage of it.
"This isn't really 'dancing music'." you pointed out the soft jazz idly playing in the background. Bucky shrugged and held your hand anyway, the other around your waist.
"Any music is 'dancing music'." he said. So quiet you were surprised you heard him. "My mom used to say that all the time."
You both swayed back and forth in each other's arms. Eye contact never breaking and the rhythm never faltering.
"Sounds like a great woman of great taste." you said, matching his volume. His lips curled up in admiration. Oh, his mother would adore you. His father would tell him to not be stupid. To keep you close because you were different. Made Bucky act different. More like a man than ever.
"Why're you looking at me like that?" you asked in a teasing manner. Bucky's breath caught and his metal hand instinctively held you tighter, pulling you closer. You didn't mind. You found it...oddly comforting.
Wholesome.
"Your face, it's just..." he said in a low, softened tone. Studying every centimeter so he could never forget what you looked like. Should he, for some reason, lose his mind again. Experience that bimonthly random short term memory loss, this is a sure fire thing he can bury deep into his memory. If not your laugh, your lopsided grin, the way your face contorts without you realizing, your confident stride, it's the way you look up and into his eyes. Giving him your full attention. There's no way he'll forget it.
"It's...?" you prompted him to go on. Heart beating loudly in your chest in anticipation. Bucky looked at you like you were the only woman in the world. Like everything was okay. Like it was worth it. He slowed his movements and inched you closer. Your faces a few inches away before he spoke again. Probably the softest most sincere way he's ever spoken to anybody in his entire life.
"It's timeless."