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Pregnancy, it turns out, isn’t what you expected it to be.
For a few weeks it meant staying as close to the bathroom as you could in the mornings, and putting an all-out ban on seafood when even the sight of it made you sick. The first few weeks were rough, and then the bump started to show. You couldn’t see it through your loose-fitting shirts and you jackets, but it was there – a slight swell in your abdomen where you child was beginning to grow.
When the bump formed, two things happened to Bucky. The first was that he couldn’t keep his hand off of it. When you slept, he always stayed behind you with his face pressed to the back of your neck. You fell asleep and woke up every day to his hand being on your abdomen. It continues to happen throughout the day – when you would stand in the kitchen in the mornings he would trail his fingers over the bump as he passed. It was something that eventually Geneve started doing. When she would pad into the kitchen behind him, she would stop in front of you and wave blearily at your middle. “Good morning,” she would say through a yawn, and toddle off into the living room. It was something you and Bucky decided to leave. It was too adorable.
The second thing Bucky started doing – or at least, did more of – was not letting you out of his sight. He had always been an overprotective ass, but since getting pregnant the niceties were staring to wear off.
“Where are you going?”
You pause pulling on your jacket and turn to look at him. Standing at the door between your living room and your kitchen with his arms folded, he frowns at you.
You zip up your jacket. “Oh you know, off to stop an assassination attempt on a CEO of some company,” you say drily. You hold out your hand for Geneve as she walks out into the living room wrapped snuggly in a coat and scarf. “Then I have to be at a conference at 5 – as a bodyguard, of course. You know how much I hate diplomacy.”
Bucky doesn’t smile.
“I’m taking this one to the park,” you ruffle Geneve’s golden hair with your other hand. You look at him levelly. “Do you want to join us?”
Geneve looks up to you and tugs at your jacket. “I thought it was going to just be you and me, Mama?”
“Yes liebling,” you sigh, looking over to Bucky again, “but Papa is being silly and wants to make sure that Mama and the baby are safe.”
You lift up the end of your jacket a bit and Bucky’s eyes drift down to your holstered dagger.
“Even though Mama can take care of herself.”
Geneve hops on her feet. “I can do it Papa!” she smiles brightly. “They’ll be safe with me!”
You run your fingers through Geneve’s hair. “Then it’s settled then,” you say, “come on Mausi.”
Bucky still stares at you as you walk out of the apartment.
You pretend not to notice Sam keeping an eye on you when you reach the park. When Geneve runs off to play with some kids in the playground, you pull out your phone and dial Sam’s number.
Before he can say hello, you cut in.
“For an Avenger, you really have to work on where you’re hiding,” you turn on your heel and face a small row of benches overlooking the playground. You look to the man in the middle bench, sitting there on his phone, wearing a baseball hat and sunglasses, with the collar of his jacket up. You can see his jaw clench.
“Really Sam. Sunglasses in December,” you snort, “it’s not even sunny out.”
“It’s always worked before,” he replies.
“Then I would suggest changing wardrobe,” you smirk at him. “Where the people you normally hide from blind?”
“Cold, woman. That’s cold.”
You hang up and shove your phone back into your pocket. If Sam was going to be keeping an eye on you throughout the day, then you were going to give him the most drawn-out stake out of his life. Geneve looks over to you from the park. She waves.
“Stay as long as you like Mausi,” you smile at her.
You can practically hear Sam sigh.
Geneve eventually drags you to the Christmas market.
It’s nothing like the ones she would have back in Germany, but you still let her go. The entire market smells of Christmas – mulled wine is being sold in several stalls, nutmeg and other heavy spices linger in the air. You keep your hand tight around Geneve’s. There are a lot of people at the mark and it’s starting to get dark. The people here are mostly around to see the lights get turned on. New York is a city that has millions of lights, but there’s just something different about the ones that softly light the market.
Geneve pulls you along the stalls, never staying in front of one for too long. You watch her look at everything – crafted dolls, trinkets and baubles for people’s Christmas trees, the tonnes of food that are lined up. You stand outside one of the stalls and let her walk up to one of the vendors. He’s an elderly man, one you’ve seen work here before. Before Geneve came along, you and Bucky liked to come here when it was Christmas. It was nice being able to bring her. You would have to come again with Bucky, but Geneve wanted to see it now. He shows her some of the dolls he’s been making throughout the year.
You can’t help but look over your shoulder every so often. The narrow aisles between the stalls swell with people moving in both directions. Even now, a nice moment with your daughter, your training kicks in. You watch the people pass, some on the other side of the walkways, and others as the brush past you.
You spot Sam walking through the crowds, coming straight towards you.
There’s something different about him. He’s walking a bit faster.
You reach out for Geneve. “Come on Mausi, we’ll come again soon,” you promise her, taking her gloved hand in yours. You say goodbye to the vendor and lead her away from the stall. As much as you wanted to keep her out of your line of work, there were things that you and Bucky taught her just in case.
“Wir müssen zu gehen, Schatz,” you say to her simply, and she knows to stay close to you.
Sam eventually joins your side. “There’s a guy behind us, about ten feet away – black jacket, beanie hat, tall,” you look over your shoulder and you see the guy Sam’s talking about. He’s almost invisible through the sea of people, but every so often, the people part and you can see him walking your way.
“He’s been following you since the park,” Sam says under his breath. You’re still walking relatively smoothly. The last thing you need is a panic to be caused.
You keep an arm around Geneve’s shoulders. “Is he armed?”
“I don’t know,” Sam sighs, “I didn’t see anything on him, and he has reached for anything yet so I presume not.”
You eventually get out of the market and manage to lose the man in the crowd trying to get into it. “We’ll take the street home,” you say. It’s a street that wraps itself around the park. It’s well-lit, always has at least five or so people on it, and it leads straight back to your apartment. You don’t want to risk getting home any other way
“I’ve sent a text to Bucky.”
“Why?”
“Because you were being followed,” Sam hisses slightly, “what was I supposed to do?”
“Leave it alone and let me handle it,” you reply. The rest of the walk home is silent.
Sam offers to stay around, monitoring the outside of the street and your apartment. You know that he’s going to perch himself on the roof of the building opposite you and wait it out until morning.
Bucky is already waiting for you when you come in through the door. You help Geneve out of her coat and scarf. You ruffle her hair and press a kiss to her forehead. “Ich liebe dich, Schatz.”
Bucky stand sin the middle of the living room with his arms folded over his chest.
Geneve bounds over to him and crashes into his legs. “I kept them safe Papa, like you asked me to!” she smiles brightly up at him.
The frown he’s wearing softens slightly when he looks down at her. He runs his fingers through her hair. “Thank you Mausi,” he tucks some of her hair behind her ear, “go and get ready for bed.”
When she disappears down the hallway to the bedrooms, you hold up your hands. “Before you say anything-”
“-You could have gotten hurt-”
“-But I didn’t, and why did you have Sam follow me?-”
“-I want you to be safe!”
Silence settles between you two. You sigh through your nose and walk past him towards the kitchen. He follows you, but you grab a mug from the cabinets and start making tea for yourself.
“How are you feeling?” he asks quietly. Truthfully your stomach is starting to churn and twist again. When you tea is ready and poured, you sip it slowly. His question is left unanswered.
“You could move to the compound with the rest of us,” Sam says to Bucky the next day.
Seated at the kitchen table, Bucky keeps an eye on Geneve in the living room.
“Where is your lady anyway?” Sam says and sips at his coffee. “I miss her sarcastic wit when she’s not here.”
Bucky stares over to him. “Asleep,” he answers simply. It’s the first time in weeks that she’s managed to sleep through the morning without going to the bathroom to get sick.
Sam sits back in his chair. “So why don’t you just move in? We can be one big superhero family.”
Bucky sighs through his nose. “We both need to be away…I don’t know, from everyone I guess. With Geneve, and now the baby…”
“You’ll be safer in the compound.”
Bucky’s jaw clenches. Geneve bounds into the kitchen and runs over to his side. She tugs on the end fo his shirt.
“Papa, can we make breakfast?”
Sam claps his hands together. “I knew I made the right choice coming here.”
Geneve shakes her head. “No Uncle Sam, it’s for Mama,” she corrects him. Sam frowns and holds his hands up in surrender.
Bucky gets up from the table and helps Geneve put two slices of bread into the toaster.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, not only is he the best assassin there is,” Sam smirks, “but he’s a grade-A parent too.”
He hoists Geneve up into his arms. She reaches out and grabs a few eggs, cracking each of them against the edge of a bowl.
“No shells?” Bucky marvels quietly.
Geneve holds her head up a bit higher. “Auntie Wanda showed me.”
She puts the eggshells down onto the countertop and Bucky places her back down on the ground. “Grab a few plates for me Mausi?” he points to one of the wooden cabinets.
“This is too much,” Sam puts his hand over his heart as he watches Geneve wander back over to Bucky with plates balanced in her arms. “I think I could die of cuteness. Is that even possible?” Bucky glares at him over his shoulder.
“Either help or leave,” he warns.
Sam eventually leaves, promising Geneve that he’ll be back later to teach her how to make tacos. She reaches up and helps Bucky pour a glass of orange juice and place it on a small breakfast tray. “Es ist schön, Vati,” she smiles brightly up at him.
It’s the simplest thing he’s probably thrown together, but the fact that Geneve helped, and it had been her idea, he smiles brightly back down at her. “Es ist unheimlich schön, Mausi.”
You’re awake when the door to your bedroom creaks open. Reaching out blearily you find that the other side of the bed is empty and slightly cold. You rub at your face, willing the last bit of sleep to leave.
Who should be on the other side of the bed is standing at the doorway with a tray of food in his hands, and your daughter hiding behind him, giggling like a hyena.
“What’s all of this?” you shuffle back to sit against the headboard. Geneve jumps onto the bed.
“Be careful Mausi,” Bucky admonishes her. She slows down, crawling over to you as carefully as she can. She eventually flops down at your side. Bucky goes to the other side of the bed and places the tray across your lap. He sits down on the edge of the bed.
“Is this alright?” he asks, looking down at the food and then back up at you.
You know what he means – there are still foods that you can’t eat, or even in some cases look at. But what’s in front of you is perfect.
“Es ist wunderbar Süsser,” you reply and lean forward to kiss him. Bucky reaches up and cups your cheek in his warm palm.
Geneve whines to your side. “Mama.” You pull away from Bucky, nipping his bottom lip with your teeth as you pull away.
“Did you make this, liebling?” you turn to Geneve. She shakes her head and smiles from ear to ear.
“Papa and I made it!”
You turn back to Bucky and he nods. You rub your nose against his. “Wunderbar,” you repeat. You peck his lips again.
The breakfast is shared between the three of you. Your stomach isn’t as strong as it used to be.
“Is your morning sickness gone?” Bucky asks you quietly. You had over a piece of bacon to Geneve and you shrug a shoulder.
“Yes and no,” you reply, “I can eat food again, more than I could before, but my stomach is still queasy sometimes.”
Under the sheets, you feel his hand go to your bump. You have been able to feel the baby’s fluttering movements for a while. Now it was the waiting game until Bucky could be able to feel it too.
When the breakfast is finished, Bucky takes the tray and puts it on the floor beside the bed. Geneve cuddles into your side and you throw an arm around her. She’s soon asleep, one of her hands clutching your sleepshirt.
You’re combing your fingers through her hair. “Thank you for that,” you say softly, trying not to wake her up. Bucky hums and kisses your neck. You tilt your head to one side and gasp slightly when Buck starts trailing his lips up to your jaw.
He pauses just behind your ear. “I’m sorry about the other day,” he says quietly, “I just…I can’t lose you again.”
You bring up your hand to his face, trailing your fingers along his cheek. His eyelids flicker shut. “You’ll never lose me again,” you promise him, turning around just enough to kiss his nose.