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Bucky’s eyes blink open and dart around the room in a pseudo-perimeter sweep. His right arm reaches out to the other side of the bed, but he finds nothing but sheets and pillows. A moment later he realizes the shower is running. He stares at the ceiling and breathes deeply, letting his eyes fall closed.
“Hey, Buck, you awake?” Steve calls from the bathroom, a minute after the water shuts off.
“Yeah,” Bucky groans, slowly working himself into a sitting position. He rubs his left shoulder absentmindedly. “What time is it?”
“It’s almost 10 AM,” Steve says. He walks into the bedroom clothed in nothing but a towel, combing his fingers through his still-damp hair. “I just got back from a run with Sam and figured I’d take a quick shower before you woke up.”
“Good idea,” Bucky says, grinning at the sight of the half-dressed supersoldier before him. “You’re always gross when you get back from one of those.”
“Thanks,” Steve says dryly. He goes over to his dresser and throws on a clean, too-tight t-shirt and some sweatpants.
Bucky finally finds the motivation to get out of bed and heads over to Steve, wrapping his arms around his waist. “How’s Sam doing, anyway? I haven’t talked to him in a while.”
“He’s doing ok. Though he mentioned something weird happened with Jarvis the other day.”
Bucky chews on his bottom lip. “Something weird?”
Steve nods. “Apparently a few days ago he asked Jarvis something and the response he got ended with ‘If that’s ok with you, birdman.’”
Bucky bursts out laughing, letting his head fall onto Steve’s shoulder. “Birdman??”
Steve chuckles at Bucky’s reaction. “Oh, it gets better.”
Bucky takes a minute to regain his composure, still giggling to himself. “Better?”
“This has been happening all week,” Steve replies. “Just this morning Jarvis referred to Sam as ‘consort to the King.”
Bucky frowns slightly. “The King?”
“T’Challa. King of Wakanda, remember?” Bucky nods in recognition. Steve continues. “Jarvis seems to think there’s more going on than meets the eye.”
Bucky starts laughing again. Once he calms down, Steve stares into his eyes, seemingly searching for something. “Now the real question is who’s behind this.”
“Is this abnormal for Jarvis?” Bucky asks. “I haven’t been living here long enough to know these things, you see.” He smirks and Steve rolls his eyes.
“The only way these things happen with Jarvis is if Tony reprograms the system or someone had a nice long talk with everyone’s favorite AI.”
“Who do you think did it?”
Steve thinks for a few seconds. “My vote is on Nat or Clint. They’re always doing crazy stuff like this.”
Bucky hums innocently, then steps away from Steve. “I gotta go take a shower now. I’ll meet you later, ok?”
Steve frowns at the abrupt lack of contact. “Yeah, sure. I’ll text you where I am.”
Bucky nods, then grabs his towel and makes his way to the bathroom. He closes the door behind him and turns on the water. He perches on the counter, waiting for the water to heat up.
“Hey, Jarvis?” Bucky asks the ceiling.
“Yes, sir?” Jarvis responds.
“Birdman?” Bucky says.
“It seemed like something you might say,” Jarvis answers. “Though I felt the need to get more creative with my nicknames after the first day.”
Bucky grins. “Good work.”
“Thank you.”
“Keep it up.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Oh, and can you extend the parameters to include Steve and Tony?”
Jarvis pauses for a moment. “Parameters added. Anything further?”
“No that’s it. Thanks.”
“Any time, sir.”
Bucky steps into the shower and immediately dissolves into giggles. “Nat or Clint, my ass.”
***
Bucky gets out of the shower 20 minutes later and quickly dresses. He checks his phone.
Party deck. With the As. Join us when you’re ready. Jarvis knows you’re coming.
Bucky smiles and checks himself out in the mirror. He takes a few deep breaths and heads to the floor’s elevator.
“Floor 81, please, Jarvis.”
“Yes, sir.”
The elevator bell dings twice then the doors slide open. Bucky steps out and makes his way to the common room. He sits down on one of the couches between Steve and Sam and leans into former.
“Glad you’re here,” Steve says, pressing a gentle kiss to Bucky’s temple.
“Me too.” Bucky looks around the room. He, Sam, and Steve are on one couch. Tony, Rhodey, and Bruce share the next couch. Vision and Wanda are on another. Clint is perched on the arm of the couch occupied by Natasha and Maria. Scott is lounging on the floor, practically sitting on Bucky’s feet.
A chorus of “Hi, Bucky!” fills the room, then the group goes back to their original conversations.
“T’Challa couldn’t come to the party?” Bucky asks Sam, gently elbowing him in the ribs.
The man flushes. “Steve told you, huh?”
“How true is the rumor, anyway?” Bucky says.
Sam lowers his eyes and scoots closer to Bucky. “Very. Just don’t tell anyone. This is still new.”
Bucky grins. “I’m great at keeping secrets.” He files the information away for safekeeping.
“Thanks,” Sam says, patting Bucky’s shoulder. He turns away and strikes up a conversation with Hawkeye and Scott.
Bucky appreciates the ability to listen in on the group without having to talk to anyone. It takes all the willpower he has to not burst out laughing for the third time that day when he overhears Steve talking about how half an hour prior the fridge called Steve an “adorable old-timer.”
He has to stifle another laugh when he hears Clint mention how his favorite arrows had gone missing for a few days until he found them in Natasha’s underwear drawer. Clint still hasn’t forgiven her, even though she said she had nothing to do with it.
“I swear to god, Clint, that wasn’t me!” Natasha sighs.
“Well you’re a lying liar who lies,” Clint retorts. “Who else would know which arrows are my favorite?”
“Who else here knows how snipers think?” Natasha says. “It could be any number of people.”
“But they were in your room,” Clint whines. “No one’s allowed in there!”
Natasha frowns, “Just me, you, and…” she trails off.
“I’ll be right back.” She gets up and walks over to Bucky. He braces himself for the inevitable slap across the face. But instead she grabs his right arm and drags him into the kitchen.
“I know you’re behind this,” Natasha whispers.
“Who, little ol’ me?” Bucky says, raising his eyebrows.
Natasha violently rolls her eyes. “I’ll let it go this time. But the next time Jarvis calls me by some stupid nickname or someone’s stuff goes missing I’m gonna tell everyone about this.”
Bucky smirks. “And everyone always says you’re the mean one.”
“You know me better than that,” Natasha says. “Besides, if I lose you as an ally then who else am I gonna talk Russian with?” She pauses. “Now are you planning on telling me why you’re doing this?”
Bucky takes a beat to think. “Because it’s fun. And… I guess… moving people’s stuff around is a fun way of training without hurting anyone.”
“Therapy through pranks,” Natasha muses. “I approve.”
Bucky smiles. “Thanks.”
Natasha returns the smile. “Though, next time maybe don’t make Clint think I stole his stuff. He’s still mad.”
Bucky winces. “Sorry.”
“Apology accepted. I’m sure it’ll work itself out in time.” Natasha’s smile broadens. “I do have a proposition for you, though.”
***
Bucky and Natasha go back to the common room and rejoin the party.
“So is anyone gonna call Thor?” Natasha asks, sitting back down on the couch she previously vacated.
“Do we have the technology for that?” Steve asks.
Tony grins. “Of course we do, Ice Age. I’ll be right back.” He all but runs to the elevator. Not ten minutes later, Thor shows up on the landing pad carrying excessive amounts of Asgardian mead. He walks into the common room and hands a bottle to Steve.
“Be careful,” Thor warns. “This drink is not meant for mortal men.”
“I think I can handle it,” Steve replies, pouring himself a few fingers of the liquid and sipping at it. “Ok, you’re right. I’ll go easy.”
Thor laughs loudly and goes to the kitchen to put the rest of the drinks he is carrying in the freezer. He carefully sets Mjolnir down on the table in the kitchen, handle standing up towards the ceiling.
Natasha motions to Bucky as soon as Thor returns to the common room. Bucky grins in response and heads to the kitchen. He takes it the hammer gently by the handle and picks it up with his right hand, marveling at how light it is. He moves it across the room, and sticks it on top of the fridge, laying it on its side, then gets a cup of water and goes back to the group.
Bucky sits back down next to Steve. “Can I try some of that?”
Steve hands him the cup. “It’s strong… be careful.”
Bucky takes a sip, coughs loudly, and downs the rest of his water. “I think I’ll stick to non-alcoholic beverages for now.”
Steve chuckles, taking the drink back. “I thought so.”
Bucky runs out of steam twenty minutes later. He lets everyone knows he’s leaving and goes back to his floor to take a nap.
He awakes to Steve and Natasha staring at him from the chairs across the living room.
“You did it.” Steve says.
“Did what?” Bucky asks, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and sitting up on the couch.
“The hammer,” Steve replies. “You’re the one who moved it.”
“Thor was so confused,” Natasha says, giggling. “You should have seen it.”
Steve frowns. “Answer the question. Did you move the hammer?”
Bucky hesitates. “If I’d known touching it was such a big deal, I wouldn’t have done it.” He looks down and away from his friends. “Tell him I’m sorry.”
Steve walks across the room to sit down on the couch beside Bucky. “That’s not why I’m asking.”
“It was a dare,” Bucky interrupts. “Natasha told me to do it.”
Steve glares at Natasha. “Why?”
“Curiosity,” she replies.
“What if you were wrong?” Steve asks.
“I wasn’t,” Natasha says coolly. “I know Bucky better than you think.”
“You never could turn down a dare, could you.” Steve shakes his head in defeat and looks back at Bucky. “So you just… moved it across the room.”
“From the table to the fridge, yeah,” Bucky says, looking worried. “But if you’re not saying that touching it is such a big deal, then what the hell is the problem?”
“I need to show you something,” Steve says. He pulls up a picture of Mjolnir from the Avengers files. “Look at the inscription on the handle. It translates to ‘Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor’. Bucky… you’re worthy.”
Bucky frowns. “That can’t possibly be true. Look at everything I’ve done…” He trails off, tears threatening to spill. “I’m… I was… I killed…” He stops talking and finally lets the tears fall.
“That wasn’t you, Buck,” Steve says, wrapping his arms tightly around Bucky. “Even Mjolnir thinks so. I could hardly move it, myself. You’re a better man than me.”
Bucky smiles, tears still rolling down his cheeks, “It’s no wonder - you’re a punk.”
Steve grins and leans in to kiss Bucky softly. “Jerk.”
Natasha smiles fondly at the men on the couch and stands up. “And I think that’s is my cue to leave.”
Steve lets go of Bucky and runs over to stop Natasha before she reaches the elevator. He gives her a warm hug and steps back after she lets go.
“Thank you,” he says, as she steps into the elevator.
“Anytime, Cap,” she says, jokingly saluting him.
The elevator doors swish closed and Steve quickly walks back to Bucky, enveloping him in another hug. He wipes the wetness from Bucky’s face and kisses him once more.
“I betcha Thor would have a conniption if he saw you swinging his hammer around,” Steve says as he pulls away.
“Next time…” Bucky says, smiling.
“Yeah, next time,” Steve says, “Whenever you’re ready.”