Chapter Text
Bucky leans on the metal bars. “You know, I had plans for today.”
“Join the club,” you sigh.
“I would,” says Bucky. “Except apparently you… set it on fire?”
“Not on purpose,” you groan, sitting up.
“You were under strict orders not to use your flames,” Bucky scolds you. “That was part of the deal: the New Avengers sign you on, you learn to control your powers, and you don’t flame anyone.”
“It was just a little flame, Bucky, I was only going to scare the guy a little bit. He’s the one who freaked out and tried to use a kitchen towel to put it out.”
“A kitchen towel.”
You nod. “It caught on fire. 100% organic cotton.”
Bucky rubs his forehead. “You’re shitting me.”
“He threw it behind the bar. You know, when a hundred bottles of alcohol catch on fire and explode? It’s kinda pretty. If you can dodge the glass.”
Bucky sighs. Heavily.
Your shoulders slump. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to go dancing.”
“What makes you think you can’t go dancing anymore?”
“Uh…” You shrug. “I kinda blew up the dance club? I’m fired, aren’t I?”
“You’re not fired,” says Bucky, pulling the keys out of his pocket. “But you’re not staying in this jail cell, either.”
You sit up, hopeful. “I’m not? I can still be an Avenger?”
“All I was told was to bring you in, sweetheart,” says Bucky, unlocking the cell block door and sliding it open. “Whether or not you’re Avengers material isn’t my—oof.”
You almost knock him over in your enthusiastic hug. He doesn’t hug back, but that’s okay—you took him by surprise, after all. He doesn’t push you away though, which is nice because honestly? Hugging him is nice.
“You’re warm,” you say, surprised.
“Uh, yeah?” Bucky sounds intensely awkward. “I run hot?”
“Everyone’s always so much colder than me,” you say, happily snuggling in. “What’s your base temperature? A hundred? One-oh-one?”
“Uh… ninety-nine point eight?”
“I’m hundred point three,” you say, and shove your nose into his neck. He yelps. “Well. Except for my nose. Sorry.”
“Can you… uh… let go?” He sounds like he’s being strangled. “They’re probably watching over a camera or something…”
“Oh, right.” You let go and pat his shirt back down. It doesn’t seem to help Bucky’s nerves much, given that he grabs you by the wrists and holds you a few inches away from his chest.
“We have six hours in L.A. before Belova comes to pick us up,” Bucky tells you. “I need you to not get into any more trouble. Do you think you can handle that, sweetheart?”
“Mm-hmm.” You nod eagerly. “Six hours, Belova, no more trouble. Can do. Absolutely.”
Bucky’s eyes narrow, as if he doesn’t trust you one tiny bit.
“Promise,” you add, giving him a winning smile. “I won’t let you down, boss.”
“I’m not your boss,” says Bucky automatically, but he lets go of your wrists. “Let’s go.”
“Sure.” You fall into step next to him. “I really am sorry. I told them I’d pay for the damages. You know. Once I have money.”
Bucky huffs a small laugh. “Who was the guy, anyway?”
“I don’t know, some idiot who wouldn’t take no for an answer.” Bucky leads you out of the cell block and down the hall, clearly heading for an exit. “So I decided to give him a better reason to listen.”
Bucky pushed open the door; sunlight poured into the hall, making you blink. Which is probably why it looked like there was a smirk on Bucky’s face. “So, he deserved it.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” you say diplomatically, stepping out into the sunlight. “I should only use my powers for the benefit of the masses, and not any single person’s gain. Including mine.”
“Who told you that, some Saturday morning kid’s cartoon?” asks Bucky. He almost sounds amused.
“No,” you say softly. “My grandmother. The first time I accidentally set her eggplant crumble surprise on fire.”
Bucky glances at you as the door slams behind you. “First time?”
“And… maybe the second. And the fourth.” You sigh. “I was ten, okay? I’m way better at controlling it now.”
“If you say so.” Bucky doesn’t say another word until he reaches the police cruiser, and then he stops and stares at you across the hood of the car. “Eggplant crumble surprise?”
You nod and lean in. “The surprise was pistachios.”
Bucky grimaces; you just grin wider and get into the car.
“So boss—“
“Not your boss.”
“—What are we going to do for the next six hours?”
“Well,” says Bucky, pulling the car out of the parking spot, “we can go back to the hotel and stare at the walls until it’s time for pick-up.”
You sigh. “Okay.”
“Or.”
You sit up hopefully.
“I don’t know if you’re aware, but there’s a couple of assholes on the team and it’s probably not a good idea to flame them at first sight,” says Bucky dryly. “So maybe a little bit of flame practice is in order.”
You grin.
“Unless you have a better idea?” Bucky adds.
As it happens… you kinda do. You've got friends in L.A., and if you're not going to see them for a while? Well. You can't leave without saying goodbye. But you’re pretty sure Bucky’s not going to to like it.
WELL?
Practice your flames?
Drag Bucky to your “better” idea?