Chapter Text
“They keep their files on hard drives, now. No paper trail. No digital fingerprint.”
Fury paced in front of Steve, reciting the facts without looking at him. Steve fidgeted in his seat, balancing his shield between his knees and trying to look contrite and respectful.
Fury was still a little pissed with how poorly Steve and Tony had handled the Accords and he wasn’t shy about showing his censure. One way of getting the “you fucked up” message across was to address Steve like he was a misbehaving kid and Fury was the elementary school principal or a really stern father. It really worked a number on Steve and he was very eager for the day Fury moved on to being disappointed in another one of the kids.
“They’ve got maybe a hundred of these hard drives with different agents,” Fury continued. “I’ve tracked down a handful of them, stopped some wheels in motion. What you’re going find at this base in Utah will only be a piece of Hydra’s puzzle toward reemergence. But if we can put enough of these hard drives to bed, we’ve got a good chance of dismantling them once and for all. They’re weak right now. We need to nuke them.”
Steve nodded, trying to give off I’ve learned my lesson and won’t get into any more public fights with Tony vibes.
“We don’t want a lot of noise on this, but there’s firepower at this site, which leads me to believe that this is one wheel we absolutely want to stop from rolling. So, I’ve pulled together a team. You.”
Don’t say Bucky. Don’t say Bucky.
“Rhodey.”
Don’t say Bucky. Don’t say Bucky.
“Sam.”
Don’t say Bucky. Don’t say Bucky.
“And Bucky.”
Fuck.
“That good with you, Cap.”
Steve slouched down in his chair. “Yes, sir.”
Steve and Bucky had been having some…issues the last couple months. And Steve wished it were over something a little more noble than they’d both fallen in love with the same guy. Friendships were supposed to be stronger than that. Especially their friendship. Which had withstood both of their apparent deaths, two brainwashed assassination attempts, and their two shockingly irregular cases of PTSD. They’d made it through all of that intact. Brothers in all but blood.
But everything had fallen to pieces two months ago when Bucky had come to Steve and said, “I think I might be falling for Sam.”
A mechanical, clattering voice had shouted MAYDAY! MAYDAY! MAYDAY! over and over again in Steve’s head while blinky red lights went off behind his eyes and Steve had forgotten every ounce of good feeling toward his best friend in that moment.
Because Bucky might think he was falling for Sam, but Steve knew how he felt about his partner, had known for the better part of four years, since the infamous Search for Bucky had turned into long strings of nights spent in lumpy hotel rooms together and firefights up in North Dakota and hurried retreats down by the border of Mexico.
And Steve had told Sam about three years ago. They’d even kissed and it had been like actually coming off the ice for the first time, the world warm and bright and good. But Sam had said that Steve’s head wasn’t on straight yet and that getting into a relationship would probably be a disaster and Sam had finally moved on from Riley, and he didn’t want complicated right now and all these reasonable things that drove a wedge deeper and deeper into Steve’s soft, beating heart. And Steve had no idea how to say, how to prove that he was better now, god dammit. And so, he’d spent the last three years trying to put his crush on Sam away in a box and drop it into the ocean Titanic-style, but it kept being washed up on the shore with a little note, Ha! You tried. You still love him! in big, bold calligraphy.
And for Bucky to show up and get in the way of Steve’s admittedly timid plans to one day strike up a conversation with Sam about maybe seeing if the relationship thing was worth it? The audacity! The unfairness of it all!
Steve had been forced to watch Misty Knight and Sam grow close two years ago with the trepidation of someone watching their spouse ship off to war. Sam and Misty had kept up a casual dalliance, until Misty ended it because she wanted something serious and Sam didn’t. (Didn’t want anything serious with Misty? Or didn’t want anything serious, period? That sort of question kept Steve up at night.) If Misty and Sam were hard to watch, Bucky and Sam would be unbearable. Might as well shoot Steve in the gut and throw him back in the Potomac. That would be it.
“Do you think he’d be interested?” Bucky asked -- the follow-up question to the bold declaration that had just rocked Steve’s world. “Steve?”
Steve’s tongue felt thick and clumsy. “You like Sam?” he repeated. But it came out “You lie Tham?”
“What’s not to like?” Bucky said, his eyes twinkling like a fricking cartoon. “I’m thinking of asking him out.”
“I wouldn’t do that.” I wouthn’t thoo that.
“Steve, you sound really weird. And why not? Is Sam dating someone? Do you think he wouldn’t be interested?”
Steve took a gulp of water. “I just think it might ruin the dynamic. You know, the trio? It’d be weird, right?”
Bucky shrugged. “We’d figure it out.”
Steve winced.
“Why don’t you talk to him, first?” Bucky suggested. “You guys are pretty close. Check the temperature. If you say he’s not interested, I’ll back off. No harm, no foul.”
Bucky had given Steve an easy way out with that and Steve jumped on it. “Yeah, I’ll talk to him.”
But every time Bucky asked if Steve had gotten around to it, Steve had a really good excuse why he hadn’t. Sam’s sister just had the baby. Sam had a lot going on at the VA. Some egomaniac had got a hold of a Chitauri blaster and was wiping out downtown Newark.
“You know, I’m starting to think I should just talk to him myself,” Bucky said a few days ago. “Because obviously you don’t want to.”
“Um.”
“What’s the problem, Steve? Do you like him or something?”
And Steve’s stupid, traitorous Irish blood raced to the surface of his skin and Bucky’s eyes widened.
“You like him!” he accused. “How did I not see it before? You fucking like Sam.”
“Say it louder,” Steve hissed. “I don’t think Natasha and Clint in Moscow heard you.”
“So you’ve been blocking me because you like him?” Bucky asked, his face a mixture of perplexity and outrage.
Steve winced, incapable of denying it, but trying very hard to wiggle out of having to admit he’d done something wrong.
Bucky shook his head, his hair flopping into his face. “That’s pretty dirty,” he said.
Steve grimaced. “It wasn’t dir—”
Bucky snorted e. “How do you justify it to yourself, then? ‘We’re better as a trio?’ ‘It wouldn’t be fair to have a duo and the odd-man-out?’ Or did you not even get around to justifying it. Too scared that Sam would want to date me.”
“I should have told him when I said I would,” Steve admitted.
“You’re goddamn right,” Bucky muttered.
Steve had been living in a state of dread the last few days, expecting at any moment for Sam to knock on his bedroom door and say, eyes alight, “Bucky and I are going on a date tomorrow night.” It hadn’t happened yet and Steve couldn’t figure out why Bucky was even waiting at this point, except to torture him. Bucky hadn’t spoken to Steve since he found out Steve was carrying a torch for Sam, but he’d thrown enough nasty glares to get his point across.
And Steve was quickly moving from Sorry, I stood in the way to Fuck you, I love Sam and you couldn’t begin to appreciate the perfection that is that man.
Which wasn’t the attitude to have when Bucky came into the kitchen that night where Steve was sitting going over Fury’s notes and said, “I’m talking to Sam tonight. Thought I’d give you a heads up.”
“Hmm,” Steve said, closing the folders and meeting Bucky’s truculent gaze. “I thought you’d come to your senses.”
Bucky laughed humorlessly and dropped into a chair. “Are we doing this, Steve? Because I don’t think I ate enough protein today to bench-press all the shit you’re about to spew.”
“So you’ve already decided that none of my points are valid.”
“You’ve already decided that you know what’s best for the three of us.”
“You’re not in love with Sam, Bucky. You just haven't met that many people since we came out of hiding.”
“Oh, so now you’re an expert on who I love?”
“Well, for starters, you’ve always been into girls!”
“Did my brainwashed eyes deceive me? Did I not see you make it with Sharon in front of Sam? And if I recall, you wanted to make it with her aunt 75 years ago!”
“That’s different. I’m—”
“Captain Thinks-He-Knows-Everything? Captain Doesn’t-Want-Sam-until-Bucky-Does? Captain Big Head Asshole?”
“Is this how you plan on wooing Sam? Calling him names? Because you’re off to a great start with all the attempted murders under your belt.”
“Oh, screw you!” Bucky said, springing out of his seat and startling Steve into a defensive posture. Bucky scoffed. “I’m not gonna hit you, you idiot.”
“I know that,” Steve said, feeling very much like an idiot.
“Let’s just give each other some space, alright?”
Steve shook his head. “Gonna be kinda hard. Fury put us on assignment with Sam and Rhodey.” He tapped the files on the table between them.
Bucky clenched his metal fist. “Perfect.”
“You could always ask to be reassigned,” Steve pointed out.
“And leave you alone with Sam? No thank you.”
“I was alone with Sam for two years before we found you,” Steve pointed out.
Bucky smirked. “Oh yeah, and in that whole time, he never fell for you. I guess I don’t really have anything to worry about.”
Steve scowled. That hit a little too close to the truth for comfort. “I’m going to bed,” he said jerkily.
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
“Great.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”
He gathered up the mission intel files on the table and slouched to his room. He couldn’t believe he’d just had a fight with his best friend about another guy. And not just any guy. About Sam. Who had had two years to fall for Steve’s awkward, bumbling charm and hadn’t. Bucky was right. Steve tossed the folders on to his bed and sat on the edge of his mattress, his head in his hands. His stomach hurt like he was going to throw up. One of the great (read: annoying) things about the serum was Steve never got sick, so any nausea and headaches had to be chalked up to internal turmoil. He glanced at the glowing alarm clock on his nightstand. It was definitely too late to go out running, but being the leader of the Avengers gave him an all-access pass to the SHIELD facilities. Maybe he’d kill a couple punching bags.
***
There was definitely some weird juju on the quinjet. Some unexplained tension between Steve and Bucky that Sam wasn’t touching with a ten-foot pole. One time those two got in an argument about Star Wars vs. Star Trek that had rivalled the fight on the helicarrier for intensity. Sam preferred not to even ask and just let whatever this was roll over.
Luckily, Rhodey wanted to fly the jet and Sam had agreed to copilot, so the SHIELD pilots who were going to fly the quinjet offsite after the drop were in the back with Steve and Bucky. Sam, for one, did not envy them. Being around squabbling Steve and Bucky was like being stuck in a married couple’s fight in a small room where you wanted to pretend you couldn’t hear every sordid detail and they’d sort of forgotten you were there anyway. Unpleasant.
“How’s it feel to be flying again?” Sam asked Rhodey once they were airborne.
“It’s not like being in War Machine,” Rhodey admitted, patting his leg braces, “but it’s better than nothing.”
Sam nodded, feeling that familiar niggle of guilt at the exact variables of Rhodey’s long, hard fall two years ago.
“Seeing anyone? Doing anything?”
Rhodey shook his head. “Been a little busy with SHIELD being back on the radar. Haven’t had time.”
“Didn’t you have something with that colonel? Danvers? I saw something on Twitter, but it wasn’t confirmed.”
“Carol’s a good friend,” Rhodey admitted.
“You certainly have a type,” Sam laughed.
Rhodey grinned. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“Agent Hill. Lieutenant Rambeau. Colonel Danvers.”
“Maria and I were never an item,” Rhodey objected.
“But you’re the only one of us to call her Maria.”
“Well, it’s her name.”
“And you guys have been spotted out and about.”
“We’re friends.”
“Well, you can’t deny that you and Monica were something.”
Sam grinned as Rhodey rolled his eyes and focused a little too much on the blinky dials in front of him. Sam had walked in on Monica and Rhodey in a Stark Tower men’s bathroom of all places.
“I should have let her blast you like she wanted,” Rhodey muttered.
“I’ll lay off,” Sam promised. “It’s just hard not to be a little interested. You’re getting up there in age. Wouldn’t want you to die alone because you spent the last thirty years making sure Tony didn’t get himself killed.”
Rhodey shrugged. “I can’t say I don’t miss those days a little.”
“How is he?” Sam asked.
“I think this retirement is going to stick. He’s tinkering, but it’s just to keep busy. Pepper says he’s still not going to therapy, which I can certainly believe. But at least he’s not drinking or building fifty suits a day.”
“I’m sorry,” Sam said. He patted Rhodey’s shoulder. “He’ll pull through.”
Rhodey nodded, stared out at the bright blue sky for a while. He lightened the mood when he turned to Sam and said “Did I sense some tension between your soldiers? Romantic or otherwise?” a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Sam snorted. “I don’t know what’s up with them, but it definitely wasn’t romantic tension. Just your good old-fashioned tension tension, I think.” He shrugged. “Steve’s been hella weird the last coupla months. Maybe Bucky told him to snap out of it.”
“By punching him in the dick?” Rhodey asked.
“I wouldn’t put it past him. Buck has 0 finesse.”
Rhodey laughed. “We’re close. Let’s prep for touchdown.”
The ride in the SUV from the drop site to the base house – an empty two-story number in a new housing development that looked out on the Sheeprock Mountains – was just this side of brutal. Steve and Bucky were practically bristling, which was only somewhat mitigated by the fact that Steve was driving and Buck was riding in the back behind Sam.
“Maybe you should drive in the left lane,” Bucky snarked at one point. “I think there’s some potholes over there you missed.”
Steve’s fingers flexed on the steering wheel and his jaw tightened.
“This is uncomfortable,” Rhodey pointed out about thirty minutes into the drive, and Sam laughed, but he was the only one.
He started fiddling with the radio just to have something to do. Through the scraping static, he finally caught a familiar song, Journey’s Don’t Stop Believing.
“Oh, I like this song,” Steve said exactly as Bucky kicked the back of Sam’s chair and said, “Ugh, Sam, no.”
“I’m cool with it,” Rhodey said, “in case my opinion matters.”
Sam turned and smiled apologetically at Bucky. “Sorry, man. You’re outnumbered on this one.”
Bucky, for some reason, glared at the back of Steve’s head like every single problem in the universe were directly Steve’s fault.
It was a relief to get out of the car at the base house and busy himself helping Rhodey into his wheelchair. Steve and Bucky went ahead.
“Did I mention that was uncomfortable?” Rhodey asked. “Because it was. Really uncomfortable.”
Sam smiled. “You might have mentioned it. I think my tolerance for ‘uncomfortable’ has been permanently damaged by walking in on you and Monica. I think you guys might have invented that position, by the way. Did you ever give it a name?”
Rhodey scowled. “I brought the War Machine suit, I can control it with a remote, and it has a lot of guns. Are you sure you want to mess with me?”
“I want to mess with you a little,” Sam said.
Rhodey folded his leg braces and put them in the pockets on either side of his chair.
“Has Tony started mass producing those yet?” Sam asked, walking alongside Rhodey in his wheelchair up the gravel driveway. “They’re probably way ahead of what anyone else is doing.”
“Yeah, the braces are one of the things he’s tinkering with. Keeps sending me new ones with fancy, unnecessary upgrades and capabilities.”
Sam shook his head. Tony was a whole other issue these days, holed up in Malibu, not taking anyone’s calls. By all accounts, he seemed to be perfectly mentally sound, but he was nothing like his old self, the Tony Stark they’d all known (and loathed or loved, as it went). It was a mess, one of the fallouts of the Accords and Siberia that hadn’t been tidily resolved one way or another.
When Rhodey and Sam came into the house, Bucky had already spirited upstairs to one of the bedrooms and Steve had thrown the mission files on the coffee table and also disappeared.
“Bucky and Steve and I aren’t friends,” Rhodey said, “so it falls to you to figure out what the fuck is going on with those two.”
“Or we could ignore it and pretend it’s not happening,” Sam suggested.
Rhodey snorted. “Yeah, that has a way of working out perfectly fine.”
Sam sighed and threw his bag on the couch. “Fine.”
He went upstairs in search of Steve, but ran into Bucky first, who had somehow changed out of his op gear and into basketball shorts faster than seemed humanly possible.
“Hey, Sam,” he said, smiling for the first time all day.
Bucky only had about four smiles in his rolodex. There was the sad smile, the tragic smile, the that-was-funny-but-life-is-still-a-mess smile, and the sunshine smile, which was the rarest of all. Sam had been the recipient of that last smile a lot more often recently and it was nice. Very, very nice. This current smile was of the sunshine variety and it caught Sam off guard considering Bucky’s foul mood all day.
“Hey, Buck, where’s Steve?”
Bucky frowned. “I don’t know. Not tracking him.”
“You guys okay? You seem a little tense.”
Bucky shrugged. “We’re fine.”
Sam raised a brow. “You don’t seem fine.”
“Do you know if the fridge is stocked?” Bucky asked.
“Should be.”
“Do you think they got beer I keep asking for? They’re always putting in Budweiser, when I specifically ask for—”
“The most impossible-to-find brands imaginable.”
“They’re not impossible to find. They’re in Switzerland.”
“You are such a beer snob, Buck.”
Bucky grinned. “I like what I like,” he said, his voice dropping a few octaves and going velvet soft.
Sam blinked in surprise. If he didn’t know any better, he would have said that was flirty. Especially by Bucky’s standards. He laughed to hide his confusion. “Well, you’re stuck with Budweiser this time around.”
Bucky huffed. “Stuck with a lot of things.” He pulled the t-shirt he’d been holding in his hand over his head, covering up his broad chest.
Sam patted Bucky’s shoulder as he stepped past him. “Gonna go find Steve.”
Steve was in the last bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing a very intense expression that was completely indecipherable to Sam. Which was impressive considering Sam had been learning to read Steve for four years and was pretty damn good at it, besides.
“Knock, knock,” he said, leaning in the doorway.
Steve looked up and smiled. “Sam.”
“Hey, man.”
“Hey.” He patted the bed beside him. “What’s up?”
Sam came to sit. “I was gonna ask you that. What are you and Bucky fighting about?”
“We’re not fighting,” Steve said, but he blushed bright red as he said it.
“You’re such a bad liar, Steve.”
Steve shook his head. “It’s nothing.”
“Is this about Star Wars again?”
Steve laughed. “How have you been? We live together and I think this is the first time we’ve hung out in, like, two weeks?”
“I’m good,” Sam said, noticing but not commenting on the very unsubtle subject change.
“Tell me what’s been happening at the VA,” Steve said.
Sam humored Steve and eventually sort of forgot why he’d come up in the first place. He and Steve swapped stories until their sides hurt from laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of their lives. When Sam finally decided to head out, he grabbed Steve’s shoulder and said, “But seriously, Steve—”
Steve’s eyes widened.
“Why did you unilaterally decide you could have the biggest bed? This is the only king in the house.”
Steve grinned. “We could always share,” he said, all smug and silly.
Sam’s mind snagged on memories of motel nights two years ago that had almost been something, but hadn’t. He smiled like it didn’t matter. “Oh no, you’re probably a cuddler. They’d have to bring the Jaws of Life to get me out of this bed tomorrow morning.”
“Like you’d want to get out,” Steve said. His smile was so wide and dazzling, it made Sam feel a little achey. His hair was sticking up like a baby chick’s feathers and he was still in his op gear, standard black thermals, but he’d taken off the vest. Steve looked really good in black; Sam had always thought so. It took Sam a couple seconds to realize he was just sort of gazing at Steve (but then, Steve was gazing back, so…).
Sam rapped his knuckles on the door frame. “Gonna go over those files again,” he said.
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
Sam rushed down the stairs two at a time, as if hurrying would help him escape that cloud of inconvenient feelings chasing him. Sam had decided that dating Steve was too complicated three years ago and it had been the right decision. No need going over old ground expecting something new.
The next morning, Steve stopped by Sam’s room to say he was going to do some recon at the Hydra base. When Sam sat up to go with, Steve told him it was cool, that he wanted some alone time and it might as well be productive alone time.
“Is this about whatever the hell is going on with you and your bestie?” Sam asked.
Steve’s face hardened. “What’d Bucky say?”
Sam shook his head. “Nothing. And I’m assuming you’re no longer under the impression that I’m an idiot so you’re not going to lie and say everything’s fine. Again.”
Steve looked heavenward with his hands on his hips. “You’re right. I’m not gonna lie to you. I’m gonna go do recon by myself, so I can come up with a way to not have to lie to you.”
Sam grimaced. “It’s too early for me to try to figure what that meant, but I’m pretty sure I should be stopping you.” He pulled his pillow over his face. “I’m not gonna, though. So be safe.”
An hour or so later, Sam went into the kitchen to find Bucky drinking coffee and glaring at the clock. Or maybe just looking at it. Bucky’s face did glaring even when he didn’t mean for it to.
“Morning, Buck.”
“Hey, Sam, how’d you sleep?”
“It’s like no one has ever heard of a firm mattress,” he complained.
“You should probably just sleep on the ground. You have never approved of a single mattress you’ve slept on since I’ve known you.”
“I’m sure there’s a mattress I wouldn’t mind sleeping on,” Sam said distractedly, looking in the fridge for some kind of breakfast materials.
When he glanced back, Bucky had the oddest look on his face. Like he was immensely uncomfortable even just sitting at the dining room table in his tank and sweats.
“What?” Sam asked.
Bucky shook his head. “Nothing. Where’s your bestie?”
Sam smiled. This was the running joke between the three of them, a competition about who was whose best bestie. It was dumb and silly, but they’d been doing it so long it was calcified habit.
“He went to scout everything out.”
Bucky rolled his eyes. “Typical. Mr. I Don’t Need Backup Because I’m Captain America.”
“Kettle and pot, Bucky. You stormed several Hydra bases before we got the all clear.”
“Yeah, well—” Bucky shrugged, like a roll of his shoulders could brush away his hypocrisy.
Sam grinned. “I like your hair, by the way. The haystack really works on you. Some people would call that sex hair.”
Bucky’s look went from relaxed to…something…in half a second. On any other person, Sam would have interpreted it as attraction. But it was Bucky, so it could have been any number of things. Constipation. Homicidal urges. A cramp.
Sam busied himself putting bread in the toaster and comparing the softness of two avocadoes.
“Do you want anything or are you taking a page of Clint’s book and subsisting on coffee?”
“There are worse things to subsist on,” Bucky said.
“Yeah,” Sam granted. “But if you’re going to have super soldier metabolism, might as well go all out. Chocolate mousse cake for breakfast. Steak for your morning snack. You know, get decadent.”
Bucky smiled and Sam knew he wasn’t imagining it this time. There was definite heat. “Sam, I—”
Rhodey wheeled into the kitchen. “I know you guys put me on the couch so I wouldn’t have to deal with the stairs, but I would absolutely rather drag myself up 1000 stairs than sleep one more night on that thing. Who designs a sofa with spikes in the cushions? Who?”
Sam laughed. “We can trade if you want. One of these super soldiers could carry you up those stairs, easy-peasy.”
Rhodey snorted. “Yeah, what’s my dignity anyway? Morning, Sam. Barnes.”
“Rhodes.”
Sam winced. He kept forgetting that Bucky and Rhodey weren’t exactly best buds. It was sort of a mystery to Sam. If Rhodey was going to be mad at anyone about his injury, it was going to be Sam, Steve, or Vision, not Bucky. Which suggested a fundamental incompatibility of personalities was the real problem.
Sam thought they were both pretty great. Rhodey and he had been friends since Sokovia and were well within range of being best friends. And things between Sam and Bucky had been…turbulent but they were getting better, especially since the U.N. granted all the Avengers pardons about the Accords and let them come out of hiding. Fury had come back from the dead over the Civil War (that’s what the media had dubbed that short fight in an airport parking lot, because journalists had to make their money somehow) and negotiated to make the Accords less fascist. The UN had sunk that awful ocean jail as a prerequisite of Sam and Wanda signing. Since that whole mess had died down, Bucky had been downright tolerable--of late, friendly bordering on flirty. But as it stood, there was some weird tension between Steve and Bucky, between Bucky and Rhodey, and between Steve and Rhodey (Steve hadn’t quite forgiven Rhodey for calling him arrogant that one time and Rhodey was pissed that Steve had hurt Tony and was, in his words, “a self-righteous, handsome bag of insubordination”). Was Sam the only one not beefing with every other person in this house?
“Steve went ahead to do some recon,” Sam told Rhodey, trying not to poke anyone’s sensibilities this early in the morning.
“No back up?”
Sam shrugged. “I offered to go, but he seemed pretty insistent that he could do it alone.”
Rhodey shrugged. “I know Fury only assigned me to this because none of you are good with authority. And I don’t want to sound like a babysitter, but that’s essentially what I am. And I’m trying to be a good one. You know, do my part and all. So, as a general rule, let’s not spy on Hydra cells in the middle of Utah by ourselves, capisce?”
Bucky crossed his arms across his chest. “I think if Stevie thinks he can handle it, he can.”
“Yeah, Steve isn’t exactly the best judge of what Steve can handle,” Rhodey said.
Sam laughed. “That is…surprisingly accurate, Rhodey. And I hear you, man. When Steve comes back, I’m sticking to him like glue.”
Bucky snorted and stalked out of the room.
“What’s his problem?” Rhodey asked.
“Everyone’s been a little cranky. I think it’s all the fresh mountain air.”
Rhodey nodded. “I guess there’s not much to do until Steve gets back. Do you mind if I finish some reading? This liaising between the Avengers and the UN is a fucking tedious, never-ending book report.”
“No problem, man. I’m gonna go see what’s wrong with Buck.”
“Good luck with that. Your soldiers are a piece of work.”
“They’re not mine,” Sam muttered, but Rhodey was already busy perusing the inside of the fridge for breakfast.
Sam found Bucky sitting in the backyard on one of the decorative boulders strewn across the dry lawn. He was staring at a fixed point of the fence with particularly murderous intent. Sam shielded his eyes from the harsh glare of the sun on Bucky’s metal arm.
“Are you wearing sunscreen?” he called, pointing up at the hot, relentless sky. “Your pasty skin wasn’t really made for Utah.”
Bucky tilted his head and his hair swung forward into his face. “You know, I think I’m good. I survived a fall off a moving train into a mountain. I don’t think melanoma is going to take me out.”
Sam nodded. He was still taken by surprise when Bucky mentioned his trauma so casually. “Any particular reason you’re pissed at Rhodey?” he asked.
Bucky shrugged. “I’m not mad at him.”
“Mad at Steve then?”
Bucky wiped the sweat from his forehead and didn’t answer. So he was mad at Steve.
“Isn’t your arm going to overheat?” Sam teased. “Fuse together or some shit? You should come back inside.”
Bucky smiled. “Are you trying to get me back in the house for something special?” he asked, his eyes bright and happy.
“Rhodey’s playing politician and I didn’t bring any VA paperwork with me. You’re my only hope against boredom.”
“Bet you say that to all the girls,” Bucky said, getting up and walking into the shade.
“Only the ones I really like,” Sam said. He tousled Bucky hair as he went past and Bucky smiled one of his pure-sunshine smiles.
When Steve got home six or seven hours later, he had a plan to extract the drive with minimal fuss. He went over the strategy with the team while they ate dinner.
Bucky and Steve were still having their fight, apparently, and there was a lot of sniping back and forth that was really awkward to be a witness to, especially without context.
Sam fidgeted in his seat uncomfortably but was saved by a text from Natasha with a picture of her and Clint holding a hard drive in matching “I <3 Russia” shirts. The message read #SWAG. Sam texted back: You’re both much too white to say swag. Ever.
He showed the text to Rhodey, who concurred.
Dinner dissolved after that, Rhodey needing to be on a video call with some Vietnamese ambassadors, Fury, and Ross (who unfortunately, still had a job).
Sam went up to his room and changed into a T-shirt and sweats. He got into bed and went over the plan Steve had outlined for tomorrow’s op. Really visualized his roles.
A knock at the door took him out of that sweet spot right before sleep. “’Sup, Bucky?”
“Thought Rhodey was sleeping in here.”
“Did you offer to carry him up?”
Bucky turned to show a small scratch on his metal arm. “The guy can’t walk anymore, but his aim is pretty impeccable.”
“What’d he throw?”
“Vase.”
“It’s not that he minds the help,” Sam had to point out. “It’s that he doesn’t want your help.”
“Yeah,” Bucky said, leaning against the door frame. “I sort of picked that up.”
Sam swung his legs over the edge of the bed so he could face Bucky head on. “You gonna tell me what’s going on with you and Steve?”
Bucky’s face shuttered momentarily, all emotion retreating behind vault doors before he sighed and let himself be open. Or as open as Bucky every really got. “It can wait. The mission first.”
“Okay,” Sam said, watching Bucky carefully. “Mission first. But you’ll tell me after.”
Bucky pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Yeah, Sam. Promise.”
****
In retrospect, everyone could have behaved a little better. Well, Rhodes was at the home base, throwing static on all of Hydra’s systems with his suit, and Sam and Redwing were in Sector 12 disabling the alarms. So, really, Steve and Bucky could have behaved better.
Still, Steve was 100% sure that even the most biased of people – even one of Bucky’s woobifying fans who were always sending him letters about how tender and precious and “smol” (people kept making up new words and Steve was tired of trying to figure them all out) he was – would agree that Bucky was more at fault.
Because Steve had been minding his business, creeping down the hallway just behind every alarm and lock that Sam and Rhodes were dismantling remotely. Steve and Bucky’s job was to take out any human guards in their way quickly and quietly, grab the hard drive, and leave as stealthily as they had come. Key word: stealth.
So when Bucky turned and asked if Steve was wearing the stealth suit because it was practically painted on and he wanted an advantage with Sam, Steve had pressed his finger to his lips and continued down the hallway. Here, crept being the operative word.
Because Bucky was doing a runway walk of murder, his combat boots a-clomping, sending handwritten, embossed invitations to every guard within a mile radius.
“Buck, could you walk any louder?” Steve hissed
Bucky glowered. “Probably.”
Steve had to grit his teeth against a childish remark in turn, because Captain America wasn’t allowed to be petty. “Can we save all the animosity until post-op?” he asked.
Bucky laughed sarcastically. “You’re all about bottling up your feelings until it’s least convenient. I’m just following your lead, oh great Captain.”
Steve sighed. Bucky could be so…Bucky sometimes. How had Steve forgotten?
“Fine,” he said. “My timing was shit. Happy now?”
“Not even close.”
They turned into one of the smaller hallways. Steve came up behind the first of the guards and held his hand over the guard’s nose and mouth until he went limp. Bucky was a little less gentle with the next guard and when Steve made a “be easy” face, Bucky said, “Actual Nazis, Steve. Nazis.”
“I know, but—”
“But what? You got some unrequited feelings for Hydra now?”
“You’re being an asshole,” Steve said.
“You started it.”
“I already said sorry about that, and last I checked, I haven’t tried to stop you talking to him yourself. So maybe stop blaming me that you’re just scared to ask him out.”
“You just took some staggering levels in hypocrisy, bud.”
“Whatever.”
“Nice comeback. Did someone write it for you or was that one of your own creation?”
“Fuck you, Bucky. There’s no way you haven’t known that I love Sam. You’d have to be willfully ignorant.”
Bucky gaped. “Are you telling me you have a secret crush on every person you’re friends with? Because from where I’ve been sitting, you guys look like a coupla pals being pals. Should I not ask out Natasha either? Because you guys have a coupla inside jokes. Could be you’re in love with her, too.”
“You know what? Maybe you should ask Sam out. Here’s how you’ll start: From the moment I ripped the steering wheel out of your moving car on a freeway, I knew it was meant to be. When I snatched your wings off and threw you out of the sky, who would’ve guessed I was the one falling?”
“Oh, Stevie. Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve got a pretty solid opener. Hi, Sam. I’ve creepily pined for you since the moment I stalked you around the National Mall like a fucking predator. I write your name in my dream journal and have sadness walks to think about how tragic my unrequited love is. What do you think of that, Cap?”
“I think you’re a piece of—”
It wasn’t until Steve and Bucky heard the march of boots that they realized they’d been shouting.
“Look what you did!” they said at the same time.
Their comms crackled to life and Sam said, “None of the alarms were tripped, but these guys are on the move. And I think they’re going to pin you. Should I intercept?”
“No!” Bucky and Steve both shouted.
“Send the drone,” Rhodey suggested.
“He has a name,” Sam said. “And he’s coming in. Steve, Bucky, when I say drop, hit the deck, okay.”
“Yeah, Sam,” Steve said. He squared his shield in front of him and stared down the hallway, waiting for the enemy.
“In case anyone’s interested,” Bucky said in a sour tone, “Steve’s big mouth brought these guys. So, you know, if we die, I’d like a ‘All Steve’s Fault’ sort of thing on my grave.”
Steve gritted his teeth and didn’t respond.
Rhodey broke the awkward silence by saying, “So we’re back to all being uncomfortable. Just what this fire fight needed.”
“Sam,” Steve said, “do you know how many are coming?”
“Redwing’s showing ten or fifteen. Nothing we haven’t handled a thousand times.”
“This is a little like Vegas,” Steve said.
He could hear the smile in Sam’s voice when he said, “What happens in Vegas, Steve.”
A small whirring noise accompanied Redwing’s entrance and then the Hydra soldiers were upon them. “Down,” Sam called. Steve and Bucky threw themselves to the ground as Redwing let out a 360 degree volley of lasers. Hydra agents dropped to the ground instantly and it was short work for Steve and Buck to take out the two or three who hadn’t been hit.
“Thanks, Sam,” Bucky said.
“Thank me when you get out of there. More are on the way and Redwing’s kinda blown his wad.”
Rhodey laughed. “That is the grossest thing you’ve ever said, Sam.”
And then Bucky and Steve had to fight their way out of the hallway toward the control room and for the ten minutes it took to reach the hard drive, they were a well-oiled machine. But being good on the battlefield was second-nature to them. The moment the last Hydra asshole fell, Bucky dropped Steve’s shield on the ground with a clank and stepped over the body to enter the control room.
Steve had to chase after his shield a little awkwardly as Bucky had managed to set it on a roll. “Couldn’t have just handed it to me?” Steve asked.
“Fuck you.”
“Uh, the comms are still on,” Sam said.
“What are you guys even fighting about?” Rhodey demanded.
“None of your damn business,” Bucky growled.
“Not cool,” Sam said and Steve only relished Bucky’s chagrinned face a little.
They both turned their comms off and strode into the control room. The hard drive was hooked up to a computer in the center of the room. Bucky snatched it out of the tower and tucked it in his pocket.
“I’m pretty sure that can corrupt the data,” Steve said.
“I’m pretty sure I said fuck you. And I meant it.”
Steve sighed. “Are we really just going to be pissed about this?”
Bucky shook his head. “I’m going to ask Sam out and we’re going to date and be plenty happy. You’re going to be pissed about this, but I’ll be fine.”
“I’m really glad this op was such a stunning success. Maybe Fury will think twice about teaming us up again since clearly you can’t put aside personal shit for what was supposed to be a quiet mission.”
“We got the hard drive, didn’t we?”
Steve didn’t say anything. He turned on his comms. “Sam, meet us at the rendezvous point. Rhodes, call in SHIELD for clean-up. Nice work, everybody.”
“Yeah,” Bucky said. “Nice work. Hey, Sam, let’s go find some of my snobby beer when we’re back on the east coast to celebrate.”
Steve’s stomach clenched into a tight knot as Sam said, “Sounds good, man. You’re buying.”
“We should also start doing our morning runs again,” Steve said, glaring at Bucky as he spoke. “Got a little winded today. Need you to keep me in shape, Sam.”
Sam laughed. “I know you’re just fucking with me, Steve, but one of these days, I’m gonna surprise you out there.”
Steve opened his mouth to rib him some more, but Rhodey interrupted: “Nobody’s gonna ask me on a date? I’m starting to feel like the only one not invited to prom”
Steve could feel the blood rush to his face, embarrassed at being called out so blatantly, but Sam just laughed.
“I gotcha, Rhodey. We’ll do karaoke next weekend. There’s enough Sam to go around.”
As he said this, Sam and Redwing came into the rendezvous spot where Bucky and Steve were waiting. Sam came up to Steve and they did their little handshake, the one all the Avengers said was corny, but that Sam and Steve did all the damn time.
Sam grinned. “Thought this wasn’t going to be a firefight,” he said, touching the sleeve of Steve’s suit where a bullet had grazed the fabric.
“You know me,” Steve said. “Can’t back down from a fight.”
Bucky harrumphed. “That’s why he’s always got me around,” he growled. “To save his dumb ass.” Bucky had said this particular sentiment a dozen times a day in the past, but today the venom was unmistakable.
“That’s why we’ve got each other,” Sam said. He mussed Bucky’s hair, which had been pulled back into a bun.
“Trying to give me more sex hair,” Bucky asked.
“Maybe a little,” Sam said, laughing.
Steve felt sick to his stomach, but he smiled through the nausea. Before Bucky had told him he liked Sam, this sort of exchange would have never bothered Steve. They were all friends, all playful and silly. But now, the stakes were different and most certainly higher. Steve didn’t know what to do. Every option seemed like he was going to lose Sam or Bucky or both of them.
“Let’s see what’s on the hard drive and go from there,” he said, his voice gruffer than he’d meant. Sam gave him a questioning look that Steve chose to ignore. “Let’s get back to SHIELD.”
***
Misty, Sharon, Nat, and Maria were sitting at a table, talking to one another and laughing when Sam came into the conference room. “Hey, look, it’s my favorite SHIELD squad,” he said.
“Not SHIELD,” Misty said, interlocking her hands behind her head and giving Sam a cheeky smile.
“CIA.” Sharon added.
“Private sector,” Maria said, tugging at the security tag on her blouse.
Sam looked at Natasha. “You’re gonna correct me, too?”
Nat shrugged. “I am SHIELD. Where Fury goes, so go I.”
“Poor Hill,” Sam said. “Do you have to say that about Tony now?”
Maria smiled. “Where Pepper goes, so go I.”
“Where the money goes,” Misty added with a wink.
Everyone turned to Sharon. “Come on, guys, I didn’t know we had to write out loyalty pledges. I’m just trying to do the right thing.”
Misty snorted. “I still don’t get how it didn’t work out with you and Captain Do-The-Right-Thing then. You’re both so…noble.”
“Being on the run can really mess with your love life,” Natasha said. “Or so I’m told.”
Sharon’s cheeks turned pink. “Sam, I assume you’re here to talk about something other than my almost-relationship with your current boyfriend.”
Sam laughed in surprise. “Steve’s not my boyfriend.”
“I got money on Bucky,” Misty said. “Sam’s always had a thing for brunettes.”
“Oooh, are we placing bets,” Rhodey asked, rolling to a stop at the head of the table. “Because I just spent a weekend with those assholes and I’m hoping they all die alone.”
“That bad?” Maria asked.
“When you compromise a stealth op because you’re fighting about who loves Sam more, it’s that bad.”
“Rhodey is really over-exaggerating what happened,” Sam interrupted. “Buck and Steve got in a fight about something unrelated to me. And wherever you guys are getting your information about any potential relationships between me and Steve or me and Bucky is well beyond me, because there is nothing between any of us. And I didn’t come here to talk about that!”
Misty raised her eyebrows. “The lady doth protest.”
“The lady doth not! Or does not. Whatever.”
Sharon hid a smile behind her hand.
“Hydra is trying to get a foothold in American politics again and they think conservative states like Utah are ripe for it,” Sam said all in a rush, trying to get the conversation on track. “I wanted to talk about that. The hard drive we recovered shows how they’re trying to take the state politically. The senate is vulnerable and so are two of the House seats. And it’s not strictly Avengers business to deal with elections—”
“So we do have a line we won’t cross,” Steve said, strolling into the conference room with Fury and Bucky. Bucky looked very harassed and upset, so Sam had to guess he and Steve were still having whatever dumb fight had started on the op.
Fury glared at Steve. “I never quite like your tone, Cap. SHIELD isn’t the Big Bad you think it is.”
Steve looked nonplussed as he came to stand next to Sam. Sam looked up at him, expecting him to take over the briefing, but he seemed fine just standing there, waiting as expectantly as the others.
“Um, right,” Sam continued. “So, Avengers aren’t going to get involved in elections, because that’s kinda skeevy, but we were thinking that if you four could find some hard facts about the Hydra candidates and expose them, that would at least make the public aware.”
“A good deal of the public voted for Trump,” Misty pointed out. “And they were plenty aware he was an orange pleather bag of hot garbage juice, so…”
“Too bad we could never link him to anything more nefarious than his completely legal bigotry.” This from Rhodey.
“Yeah, well, like I said,” Sam continued. “It’s not for the Avengers and SHIELD to elect or not elect lawmakers. But we can certainly try to make sure the public isn’t voting blind.”
“Rhodey, Sam, and I picked you four for your unique talents,” Steve said to the four women. “Misty for your detective work and a willingness to strong-arm the right people.”
Misty grinned and flexed her bionic arm. A ghost of a smile flickered across Bucky’s face, but Sam was the only one who noticed.
“Fury’s not going to micromanage you guys on this one, so Hill, you’re taking point. We trust your instincts.”
Maria nodded, all business.
“Natasha is for things that require a lighter touch.”
“Lighter Than Misty’s bruising technique,” Sam interjected teasingly.
“Uncalled for,” Misty said. “But I get it. While Natasha’s doing pirouettes and playing coy, I’m busting heads. It’s a good system.”
“And Sharon, you’re the one who’s going to keep all of this aboveboard,” Rhodey said. “You and I are the only one who thinks the Constitution has any real value anymore.”
Sharon glanced at Misty, Nat, and Maria and nodded. “That’s probably accurate.”
“And maybe, if you’re comfortable with it, you can use some of your CIA contacts,” Steve added.
“Sounds good,” Sharon said.
Sam passed around identical manila folders to the women. “This is all the intel we collected. Things got a little out of hand at the site, so Hydra’s probably torched the place, but we at least know their general plan.”
“Out of hand?” Natasha asked.
“We made contact before we wanted to,” Sam said diplomatically, hurrying to answer before Steve, Bucky, or Rhodey could give their version of events.
“This feels like you’re giving us your homework,” Misty pointed out.
“Or sloppy seconds,” Natasha added.
Steve crossed his arms. “We decided to take ourselves off the case because we don’t have the skills.”
“Well, I have the skills,” Rhodey interjected. “Liaison between the UN and Avengers.”
“How could we forget?” Bucky muttered, loud enough to carry but not so loud that Rhodey couldn’t pretend he hadn’t heard him.
“Me, Steve, and Bucky are fighters,” Sam said. “We’re not cut off for this ‘speak softly’ shit. And Rhodey – diplomat extraordinaire though he is – would look kinda suspicious in Utah.”
“Do they even have black people out there?” Misty asked.
Sam and Rhodey laughed and Fury cracked a rare smile. The tension that had been creeping up in the room dissipated.
“Well, we have our orders,” Sharon said.
“I’ll pull together our op supplies,” Maria said. “We can be wheels up at 07:00 tomorrow.”
Misty wrinkled her nose. “Seven in the morning?”
The group broke up pretty soon after that. Sam had a quick catch-up with Misty. She and her girlfriend Colleen were thinking about moving in together. Luke and Jessica had broken up – again. Danny had gone to India to visit his grandparents. “Everything good with you?” Misty asked.
Sam glanced over at Steve who was deep in conversation with Sharon and Fury. “Yeah, everything’s good with me.”
“No weight to those Bucky vs. Steve rumors?”
Sam rolled his eyes. “I’ll let you know when I do.”
Misty hugged him extra tight before scooping her cell phone off the conference room table and sweeping out the door.
Bucky was at his side almost immediately. “Do you know what they’re going to have us doing now? Since we’re just the fighters.”
Sam looked over at Bucky’s face to see if he detected a little bitterness.
“That’s just what I told Misty and Nat so they’d chill. We’re way more than a bunch of muscles, trust me.”
Bucky smiled. “So, what’s next for us? And please tell me Fury’s not going to put Steve and Rhodey with us again. That was a disaster.”
“Can I now ask what’s going on with you and Steve?” Sam said, wanting to hit this head on. “You’re best friends. The guy has literally gone to war for you—twice.”
Bucky sighed and ran his metal hand through his long, floppish hair. “The guy doesn’t know when to stand down is all.”
Sam nodded. “Yeah, that’s been his eternal problem. But of any of us, you should be used to it.”
“Oh, I’m used to it. Doesn’t mean I like it.”
Sam patted Bucky’s shoulder. “I don’t know what’s going on, man, but I can pretty much guarantee it’s not worth all this weird tension.”
Bucky peered at Sam, studied him without speaking until Sam had to say, “I’m feeling like a bacteria under a microscope, man.”
“Sorry,” Bucky said. “I think some things might be worth going to war with Steve over.” He pushed his hands through his hair again. “Do you wanna get some food? I’m starving.”
“Sure,” Sam said. “Off campus or—”
“Definitely off campus. I don’t want to look at anyone associated with SHIELD for a couple hours, present company excluded.”
“Cool. Steve has my keys. Let me just—”
“We’ll take my bike,” Bucky interrupted.
“Buck, you don’t have a bike. Remember, you threw it at a helicopter on our last op.”
“Fine, we’ll take Steve’s. He won’t mind.”
Sam got the distinct impression Steve was absolutely, definitely going to mind, but he also sensed that leaving SHIELD for a little while was going to be nothing but good for Bucky’s mental health. And there was the old saying, Better to ask forgiveness than permission.
“Sure, Buck. And this time, buy me something that’s not on the Dollar Menu. Make me feel special.”
Bucky slung his arm around Sam’s shoulder and pulled him into a one-armed hug. “Sam, you’re special, but I don’t know if you’re quite at ‘off the Dollar Menu’ special.” He thumped Sam’s chest right over his heart and they strolled out to the garage.