Chapter Text
Back in the field, Bucky thinks to himself nervously. I don’t know how to feel, am I ready for this? He fidgets with the buttons on the pockets of the new utility pants Stark had had made for him that are tucked into heavy combat boots that lace part-way up his calves. They fit closer to his body than the ones from Hydra, and are much more lightweight which makes them much easier to move around in. His vest, though still bullet-proof, was a light, flexible material similar to what made up Steve’s suits. Stark had reinforced his with extra padding around the ribs, and added some leather belts and straps for firearms and various other weapons in the future. For now the only weapon on his belt is a glock holstered on his right hip, and he’s nowhere near the walking armoury he’d been with Hydra. He was permitted no live steel and was under explicit orders to use the pistol only in a life-or-death emergency. This was a trial run, Bucky reminds himself as he flexes the black, fingerless leather glove on his steel hand; but if he does well here, he’s sure that Tony and the others would have to let him back in the field.
A mask that echoes that of The Winter Soldier covers his mouth and nose, strapping around the back of his head. At Natalia’s urging, Bucky had tied his hair back, and blacked out his eyes with grease-paint to obscure his all too well knows features. He’d startled himself when he’d seen his full appearance back at Stark Tower; it was almost as if The Soldier had come back from the dead. His eyes stood out from the rings of black like two glowing blue pits. It’s hard to deny the fact he’s an intimidating sight to lay eyes on, decked out in all black like something out of a nightmare.
The only issue he has with the mission is his team, but it can’t be helped and he’s determined to make the most of what he’s been given. As it is, he has only been given the chance to go on this mission because of Natalia Romanov, better known as the Black Widow, a name Bucky feels is entirely too apt given her propensity for emotionally destroying the men she’s been with. Tony chose her as team captain when no one could locate Steve for the job and Bucky was in no position to argue by the time he got the okay to go. His activation to trial status came when Nat said she needed Bucky on account of his stealth; that Bucky could understand. What Bucky didn’t understand was when she had insisted on Hawkeye going along too. For the life of him Bucky can’t see the point of having an archer to deal with an armed hostage crisis in a bank. Especially one she intended on approaching with stealth over brute force. There was no room for Bucky to argue with Tony or Natalia on the matter, it was roll with it or stay home and Bucky didn’t want to lose the chance to prove that he was fit for the field.
They roll out at twenty-two hundred hours and twenty seven minutes, Bucky commits the time to memory as everything is crucial to him in such missions, even the time of day. Clint Barton is driving a black van with a mobile command centre in the back and Bucky riding shotgun; with no experience on modern roads, Bucky has little other choice. It aggravates Bucky when Clint talks and the archer picks up on as much after two attempts at conversation, letting them lapse into an uncomfortable silence. It’s a silence Bucky is relishing though, feeling it a great deal more bearable than actually speaking to the man he has a good idea is sleeping with Natalia while she toys with Steve. A female voice is heard over the CV radio. “We’ve entered the zero mile guys. Police have a perimeter set up that encompasses the entire street in front of the bank and the rear alleys, so we’ll have to park at the end of the street and Clint can set himself up there.”
“Copy that Nat.” Clint answers in a monotone voice, trying to be all business with her over the radio. A task that involves a great deal of effort, Bucky thinks as Clint turns to him. “Nat’s right behind us on her bike, we’ll park here, then get you two fitted for chip radios and sensors and then you’ll follow her to the scene, any questions?”
“No, you’ve explained everything ten times over, including telling me what a chip radio is like I’m some child learning his ABC’s. I might be from the ‘30’s but I’m not some rustic throwback, I’m familiar with new technology.” Bucky all but snaps at Clint, his patience worn thin with the man already.
“Understood.” Clint stares ahead at the road, ignoring the bile in Bucky’s reply as he watches the traffic. “Here we are, I can see the bank, the police won’t let us usurp their crime scene so this is as close as I can get. Okay, hop into the back and I’ll get your mic attached.”
The van is put into park and Bucky takes a glance through the windshield to take in the scene before him. There’s police crawling everywhere, some in standard uniform, others in black and dark blue SWAT suits with MP5 rifles to hand, ready to charge into the bank at a moment’s notice. Civilians have formed a so far peaceful crowd of spectators and are staying behind the wooden barriers. The sound of the rear doors of the opening draws his attention back to the command centre in the rear of the van, and he joins Clint and now Natalia in the small space full of buzzing computers and glowing screens. “Alright, stick this in your ear, it hides inside like my hearing aids and it’ll let you hear Nat and I.” Clint says, passing a tiny little black bud to Bucky before grabbing a little flesh coloured wire on a clear piece of tape. Bucky pulls his mask off for a minute, wondering why in the hell they couldn’t have just done this before leaving the tower. “And this I’ll stick to your face —hold still — it’s your microphone to let you talk to us.” Hawkeye sticks it in place just beside the mouth with a quick flick of the wrist as he leans his face in close to see what he’s doing. If Bucky didn’t think so low of him, he might think Clint to be handsome. Bucky sets his mask back over his face and tightens it’s straps at the back of his head, huffing impatiently.
To Bucky’s left is Natalia, applying her own headset and double checking a pair or tech nines she decided to use for this mission. She reaches into a box beneath the bench she’s seated on and brings forth two pairs of night vision goggles. She and Bucky share a glance for a split second as she passes one pair wordlessly to him and Bucky reads the tension very plainly. We’re professionals; mission first, emotions last. He thinks to himself while watching her slip the eyewear on over her red locks. It hardly seems to even phase on the woman that she’s left his best friend a broken, shattered soul who’s nowhere to be found right now.
“Okay, gather around and we’ll see what we’re dealing with.” Clint instructs the two as he starts typing frantically at the keyboard before the impressive computer system. “Alright, both of your headsets are working fine... Let’s hack those cameras and see where everyone in the bank is holed up to… Bingo, we’re in…”
Natalia’s eyes starting looking from screen to screen as the building’s security cameras start sending them images of the inside of the bank. Bucky follows Nat’s line of sight, ensuring he sees everything she does. “I count sixteen hostages, nine adult females, six adult males and one male child.” Bucky starts, going on when no one interrupts. “There are five hostiles, four men, all wearing grey camouflage pants, black turtlenecks and ski masks. And a woman in blue jeans, a brown leather coat, with long dark hair, a bandanna over her face, dark sunglasses.” The former Winter Soldier says aloud for his own benefit as much as it is his allies.
Nat cuts in with her own observations. “The woman is armed with a Bushmaster semi-automatic and a male with a handgun, Desert Eagle with an extended clip by the look of it. They’re holding all the hostages in the main area in plain view of the police officers outside. She’s clearly calling the shots, judging from her body language. There’s no audio but from what I can read from her lips it seems to be Spanish she’s speaking, or possibly Portuguese. The man with her is fluent in this same language as he’s responding to her, but he’s a subordinate; note his submissive reactions to her when she speaks.”
“Very good,” Bucky says of his former student before picking up where she left off. “Over here,” he points to the man he’s referring to. “We have a lone male guarding the rear exit, also armed with a Bushmaster and two more in the vault. Another Bushmaster and a holstered Mauser for one guy and a holstered Desert Eagle for the other, standard magazines for all.”
“Okay, you both know your stuff and have scoped the scene perfectly; now, back to our building schematics.” Clint comments while tapping a screen directly behind the keyboard, causing a blueprint of the building to show up on the largest screen in the centre of the computer system. “It’s after dark and these guys are in for the long haul, they’ve been here since thirteen hundred hours. They’re not giving in to police so easily, and they’re incredibly hostile, forcing the cops to hold off on storming the place for the safety of the hostages. So they could be here all night, which is why we’re here, to put an end to this standoff. Police won’t let us near it, so we’ll have to sneak in. Can’t go by foot, the place is securely surrounded, so you two are going in via the rooftops.” Clint brings up a map of the area on another screen, indicating with the mouse cursor where he wanted their attention. “Start here, at the apartment complex next door; it’ll put you above the bank by a full storey. There’s enough of a lip on the roofs of both buildings to support a grapnel line, you can zip across to the bank from there. The entry shaft is ten paces off from that, bound to be a shit-ton of screws to deal with but you’ve both got motorized screwdrivers to help with that. Speed is of the essence here people, I can’t stress that enough. Overhead there is a police chopper making passes with a big friggin’ spotlight and if they see you they’ll compromise the mission, so, get in before you’re sighted.”
Bucky can’t fend off a small shudder at the mention of the grapnel lines, as the memory of his last conversation with Steve rushes back to him…The wind blows cold between the mountains as Bucky stands at the edge of a cliff, looking down the path the zipline Steve had them set up made. It’s a long, long way down. He doesn’t need to look over his shoulder to know that Steve is standing next to him. “Remember that time at Coney Island when I made you ride the cyclone?” He asks.
“Yeah, I threw up.” Steve says, over the wind.
“This wouldn’t be payback, would it?” Bucky says, looking down the line, feeling the bottom drop out of his stomach again.
Steve looks up at him from his crouched position, where he’s been checking for the train. He smirks. “Now why would I do that?”
Clint clears his throat, drawing Bucky from his memory before going on. “Your exit point from the shaft will be in the rear passage, just above the lone hostile guarding the rear door.”
Nat jumps in. “We’ll take him out first, no room for any noise here as the vault is only a dozen paces away.” She points at the location on the blueprint “We make noise and the two hostiles counting cash within will hear and come running with guns a-blazing and jeopardize the whole operation.”
“Nothing we haven’t encountered before, Natalia.” Bucky reminds her.
“Indeed. Once we’re in, we stay together. We’ll start with the two in the vault and move on to the two in the lobby. It will be two on two in both cases, depending on whether or not we can catch the first pair with the element of surprise. Worst case scenario here is that we’ll bring at least one more of them down on us in the vault. I do mean worst case as that woman strikes me as a loose cannon and I think she could open fire on the hostages if she thinks things are going south.”
With one last check of their gear, which also includes a grapnel and several pairs of plastic, zip tie handcuffs apiece, the two depart into the night. Walking the long way around the crowd; their masks down to avoid suspicion as they make for the apartment building. The police have their collective vision on the bank and pay the complex beside it little mind, allowing for easy entry as Nat makes quick work of the lock on the front door. A second picked lock later and they’re through the access door to the roof. They stay beneath the cover of the doorway until the police chopper passes above, taking the brief pause to put their masks over their faces before sprinting into the waiting darkness. Bucky tosses the grapnel hook, feels it bring tight and secures it to the apartment building. “Okay, you ready?” Bucky asks all too late as Nat goes over the side to grab the line and zip across.
Following behind quickly, Bucky covers the gap between the roofs and joins Natalia in a dash for the entry shaft, screwdrivers already to hand to go to work on the vent cover. The chopper whirrs in the distance, growing louder as it makes the turn for a return pass. The last screw tumbles to the ground and Natalia slips inside first, Bucky once again brings up the rear, grabbing the vent cover as he crouches in and pulling it into place as best he can, hoping the chopper pilots don’t notice it. It’s a slow crawl on their stomachs, Natalia leading the way and Bucky keeping up. With a quick flick of a finger he switches on his goggles, casting the vent in hues of green before his eyes. Natalia slinks forward silently and from where Bucky lies all he can see is her firm behind enveloped in leather that leaves little to the imagination. Her gluteus muscles go tight whenever she puts a knee forward to move along, making her ass look just divine. Most men would give their left testicle for this view. Bucky realizes, wondering why it doesn’t entice him as much as it should.
“You’re in position Nat,” Bucky hears from Clint over the headset.
“Copy that,” she whispers back “What’s the status on the hostiles?”
“All in the same position, the man below you has his rifle slung over his back and is pacing lazily.” Clint calls back.
“I copy, okay, I’m lifting the vent cover, tell me when his back is to me Clint.”
“Copy that…” Clint says in a cool tone. “Wait for it… Go, Nat.”
Without a view around her, it’s impossible for Bucky to see what Nat’s doing, “Okay, I got it Clint. What’s the hostile status?”
“He hasn’t seen a thing… Wait… He’s approaching your position, gun drawn.” Clint calls back nervously.
“Fuck,” Nat whispers angrily. “Bucky, back up, I have to get out of sight.” The pair slowly crawls backwards until Natalia feels safely out of view from the hostile.
“Okay, you’re clear, he doesn’t appear alarmed.” Clint calls back. “Back is to you momentarily, gun slung over it, tuck and roll and take him quickly Nat.”
“Copy that, I’m going in.” She calls back, grabbing the lip of the vent and diving through. After waiting a few beats, Bucky flips his night goggles off, crawls to the cover, passes over the hole and opts to go in legs first, tucking into a roll of his own. When he comes to a stop it brings him up beside a now unconscious gunman lying on his stomach with his hands being secured in zip tie handcuffs by the Black Widow.
She holds up the gauntlet on her right wrist to show a syringe point protruding beneath the palm of her hand. “Nothing to it, he should be out for a while.” She whispers while retracting the sharp object. “I’ve got one more where that came from.”
“Great work.” Bucky compliments her as she ties the hostiles boot laces together and reverses his ski mask to serve as a blindfold.
Without prompt Bucky grabs the rifle on the ground, watching Natalia’s eyes go temporarily wide until she figures out that Bucky is unloading the weapon to render it useless. “Just in case the dose isn’t strong enough, no point leaving him a weapon, no matter how bound up he is.”
“It’s the Widow’s Kiss in liquid form.” Nat replies, seemingly insulted by what Bucky said. “He’s good for about twenty hours.”
The voice of the female would-be robber travels all around the bank as she shouts at the top of her lungs in Spanish. “Nicaraguan by the sounds of her,” Natalia deduces “She’s doing enough yelling to give us plenty of noise cover. Still though, stay quiet. Let’s split up and get this job done.”
“Hold it.” Bucky whispers sternly. “Clint, what’s the status of the four remaining hostiles?”
Clint came in over the ear bud. “The two in the vault both got their backs to the door; one is counting cash, the other has decided to start prying at safety deposit boxes. The two in the lobby would have their backs to Natasha when she enters from behind the tellers booths. Do you have a plan we should hear about?”
“Something like that.” Bucky replied back, giving Natalia a sideways glance.
It is all Bucky can do not to congratulate himself as he stands to the side of the vault door. He can see Natalia crouched low on the corner of the corridor leading to the lobby area and he can plainly read the annoyance on her face. She was left to take down the two in the lobby on her own, waiting on Bucky’s cue to spring into action with him simultaneously. Bucky had formulated the plan when he first saw the bank interior back in the van. Sitting on it until they were well into the mission and beyond a point where Natalia could feasibly refuse. For the first time since before his death Bucky felt he had a little bit of power, he had usurped Natalia’s plan and now she was following his. It was more than that though, Bucky realized. How do YOU like having the rug pulled from under your feet Natalia? He thought to himself smugly. That was for Steve more than anything else. Though Bucky knows he is going to enjoy what comes next regardless.
With a last nod to Natalia, Bucky slips beyond the thick, steel door left barely ajar. The two men within are speaking to one another in Spanish with a casual tone, entirely unaware of who is standing behind them. The man armed with the bushmaster and pistol is stacking money in a cash counter machine, the whirring of the device making great noise cover for Bucky. The bushmaster’s cohort armed with only a pistol is crouching on the other side of the table, working feverishly on a safety deposit box. Bucky notices it’s not the fellow’s first, by the state of multitude of little slots on the wall hanging open. Silent footfalls bring Bucky within arm’s reach of the man counting money on the table in the centre of the vault and the mechanical arm grips the back of the man’s skull. Without a second to realize what is befalling him, the man’s face is sent crashing into the steel surface of the table. The sound of his buddy’s face smashing down on stainless steel makes the second man jump, only to come face to face with the pistol Bucky seized with his flesh arm from the cash counter’s holster.
“You speak English?” Bucky asks the man who has instinctively reached for the ceiling.
“Ye-Yes” The would-be criminal replies in a thick accent over the audible moans of his cohort who is writhing beneath Bucky’s steel arm. Despite the feeble struggle of the robber in his grasp, he’s held firmly to the table, with a pool of blood slowly spreading from his shattered nose.“Take your gun from your holster and slide it under the table to me and perhaps I won’t turn the wall red.” Bucky demands of the man who had been damaging deposit boxes.
“Okay man, take it easy.” He fishes the handgun out and does as ordered.
“Good job.” Bucky compliments while lifting the toe of his boot to stop the pistol from sliding further. His steel arm releases its grip on the first man’s head, going for the strap on the rifle slung across his back. Bucky collects the pistol on the ground and unloads all three weapons in quick order, tossing the empty guns to one corner of the room and the magazines to the opposite side. The quizzical look on the robber without his face smashed in is noticeable through the ski mask and Bucky stares him down menacingly. “This is your chance.” Bucky says in a put on, deep voice while the other robber slides to the floor clutching his destroyed nose, moaning all the while.
The robber with his hands up answers Bucky. “My chance for what, man?”
“I’m going to give you a shot to walk out of here; all you have to do is beat me hand to hand.” Bucky cracks the knuckles on his flesh hand while staring down the thug. “Think you can do that? I’ll even let your friend help you out if he’s not too busy soaking that mask with blood.”
“That’s it? I beat you, I go? How do I know I can believe you?” The robber asks the questions rapidly and warily.
“What other option do you have?” Bucky shrugs, taking a step back from the table and crouching into a fighting stance. The adrenaline begins rushing through his veins immediately as the thug with a functioning nose puts his fists up in a boxer style, approaching Bucky cautiously.
The thug throws a sloppy right cross, swinging for the fences off the start. Bucky parries it almost lazily with his left, pushing back with his metal hand. “Oh come on, you can do better than that.” He taunts the Hispanic man.
Responding to the taunt the man lunges for Bucky’s legs, tumbling to a pile when Bucky sidesteps him like a matador avoiding the bull. “You’re not even trying, are you?” Bucky says to coax the man on. The fellow with the busted nose has crawled beneath the table and seems in no hurry to join the fight; despite his friend shouting at him in Spanish in what Bucky assumes is a plea for assistance. The able thug curses on his friend and grabs a handful of currency to throw in Bucky’s face, taking a swing at the opponent he thinks is thrown off by the paper smokescreen. It’s a feeble attempt at best as Bucky isn’t fazed by the barrage of twenty dollar bills and sees the punch coming through it aimed for his face. The lunging left cross is stopped dead with Bucky’s steel hand and Bucky clamps down pressure on the captured fist. “You know, I don’t blame you for fighting dirty, I’m just disappointed is all.” Bucky leans in close and whispers at the whimpering man in incredible pain as the bones in his hand are pressed together in the vice-like grip of the steel arm.
Before the thug can open his mouth Bucky releases the man’s fist and grabs him by the turtleneck with both hands and tossing him into the steel table. The impact sends it, the stacks of cash and the man rolling over one another and into the wall of safety deposit boxes at the back of the room with a loud crash. That should be more than enough noise to get the attention of the crooks in the front of the bank. Bucky thinks as he rolls his shoulders and dusts himself off to give the broken-nose robber the impression that his guard was lowered. The shrieks of the gun toting Hispanic woman from the lobby reach the ears of both conscious men and the remaining robber knows the jig is up. “Oh fuck, the pigs got Yolanda! But they ain’t takin’ me alive, man! There ain’t no way I’m going back to Ryker’s Island with all those super freaks like you!” The robber swings wildly at Bucky with lefts and rights as he springs forward and the blows rain down ineffectively on Bucky’s forearms. Bucky breaks through the barrage and wraps his steel fingers around the man’s throat. With a smash he drives his skin and bone forearm into the face of the man while shoving him into the wall beside the vault door.
Without hesitation Bucky yanks the emergency pistol free from the holster on his thigh and presses the muzzle into the robber’s temple. “Jesus Christ man!” The robber groans through the shattered remains of his teeth. “What the fuck are you, man?! What the fuck are you?!”
Bucky is breathing heavy, his face a mere few inches from the other mans, his own intense stare meeting the frantic, terrified eyes of the robber. “I ask myself that question every. Fucking. Day. Am I the killer I was programmed to be all those years ago or am I still the man I once was, before the war?”
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, man, just fucking kill me if you’re going to do it, you son of a bitch!” The robber spits bloodily. Bucky grinds the muzzle of the glock into the temple of the man in his grasp, feeling himself trembling as he struggles with the decision before him.
“You are James Buchanan Barnes.” Bucky hears in his ear. “Do you hear me? You are James Buchanan Barnes, you always have been and you always will be. Hydra couldn’t kill the man within the shell, he lives and he’s the only thing keeping that guy in your grasp alive.”
Steve. Bucky realizes, picking up the voice. He’s on the frequency the headset is tuned to, overriding Clint still sitting in his van. That’s why I haven’t heard a word out of Clint since I stepped into the vault. “How long have you been listening in, punk?” Bucky asks while not breaking his stare with the crook, befuddling him entirely.
“From the second Clint put them earpieces and mics on you and Natasha.” Steve says calmly. “Tony, Bruce, Sam and I are here at Stark Tower monitoring the whole operation, cameras and all. What, you didn’t think Clint was the chief operator on all of this did you? I got Clint to patch me through after you launched your little surprise plan. I didn’t know if you were going to lose yourself and we both know I’m the only one who could have talked you back from that edge.”
Bucky groans as Steve talks and jumps in when he finishes. “Can you? You weren’t there today Steve, it should be you here right now. Look at me, I’m not ready to be back in the field, where were you?”
The man in Bucky’s grasp is growing more terrified by the second at what he thinks is Bucky talking to himself. “What the fuck are you talking about, man? Who are you talking to?”
"Shut the fuck up.” Bucky snarls back at him, granting him the silence from the criminal he sought.
“Yes you are Buck, I know you are.” Steve replies confidently once Bucky goes silent.
“How do you know that?!” Bucky tries to keep his voice low and all but shouts back.
“The perp is still alive, Buck.” There’s a calm, coolness in Steve’s voice as he says as much. “If you were still a Hydra drone, he’d be dead on the ground. Both of them would, and the guy in the hallway. They’re all alive because they weren’t the targets of a Hydra soldier; they were taken down by James Buchanan Barnes, to be brought to justice. Now subdue him, meet Natasha and prepare for extraction.”
“You didn’t answer me Steve. Where the hell were you today when Tony was looking for you?” Bucky is adamant about getting that information.
“I… I had some things I needed to sort out on my own.” Steve’s tone is entirely melancholic and Bucky can hear it just about breaking. “I just… I really needed to be alone, out of Stark Towers where everyone knows where you are at all times and can follow your every move. I needed some true alone time.” A measure of familiar strength returns to Steve’s tone. “But I’m here now. Once I got back Tony told me what was happening and I came to the command centre right away. You’re right, I should have been there today, it should be me in there right now, but it’s not, it’s you and I take responsibility for that. This is nothing you can’t handle though; you know that and so do I, that’s why you offered to go when Tony came looking for me.” Bucky feels as though he’s talking to Captain America now, the inspiring hero to millions who always knows the right thing to say. Not fragile little Stevie Rogers from Brooklyn who just had his heart broken by a red haired dame in tight pants.
You wear your mask but I know the man beneath it, Steve. Bucky finds himself almost saying aloud, but he holds the thought inside and turns his attention back to the man squirming uselessly in the grasp of his steel arm. “You asked me what the fuck I am? Well, I think I have your answer and you’re not going to like it.”
“Don’t do it Bucky! He’s not worth it!” Steve shouts in his ear. “Think about everything you have right now, all of that will vanish if you pull that trigger. Fury’s going to come down hard on us, and even harder on you if we have a fatality here. You’re not a heartless killer Bucky, you never were that person! You’re James Buchanan Barnes, the greatest friend I’ve ever had and the best person I’ve ever known. I don’t want to live this life without you in it anymore Bucky, I just got you back, don’t let what we just got back end over some idiot bank robber.”
His flesh arm is quaking visibly as Bucky holds the pistol to the man’s head while Steve talks directly into Bucky’s ear. When Steve is done saying his piece Bucky leans in close to the thug’s face. “Do me a favour, you little shit.” He says in a deep, guttural growl like the singer of those death metal bands Tony likes so much. “When you get to the hell I’m sending you to-“
“BUCKY NO!” Steve screams. “Tony, work this fucking contraption and tell Natasha to get in that vault!”
“-Tell the ‘super freaks’ you love so much and any other delinquents there that the Winter Soldier is back.” Bucky takes a step back and lunges a knee into the midsection of the robber, driving all the wind from his lungs. He holsters the glock with his flesh arm and drives the man down to the ground face first with his steel one. With a knee placed firmly on the back of the perp Bucky slips the zip cuffs over the guy’s wrists without resistance.
“It’s okay Steve; I said HE wasn’t going to like it. He wanted to die over going back behind bars and I wasn’t about to give him such a luxury.” Bucky calls into the microphone on his face, trying to calm his friend’s nerves.
“You did well.” Bucky hears back, but it’s not from the earpiece and it’s not Steve. His eyes go to the vault door to see Natalia leaning on the doorframe as cool and composed as if she was a neighbour dropping by his house for a visit. “Let’s get that guy under the upturned table handcuffed and get out of here before the cops are finished evacuating the hostages.”
“You gave me a good scare for a second there, jerk.” Bucky hears in his ear from relieved voice that sounds like music to his ears.
“I’ll see you back at the tower, punk.” He calls back. “Over and out.”
The pair finishes restraining the last of the perps and hastily makes their exit once Clint confirms that the police have abandoned the rear door to enter through the front. The sounds of the police officers barking orders to one another from the front of the bank reach Bucky’s ears as he and Nat slip out into the night. “I heard the woman shout, did she give you much of a fight?” Bucky asks Natalia when they’re on the other side of the apartment building they had entered through earlier and out of sight.
Nat stifles a laugh. “What, that crazy thing and her little bitch of a man? I’m almost insulted that you think they could have given me any trouble. You trained me better than that.”
“I had to ask.” Bucky shrugs as the reach the van, pulling the night vision goggles off his head while saying so.
The door of the van pops open and Bucky sees Clint waiting in his chair with a big smile from ear to ear. “Great job, both of you, really, that couldn’t have went better.” He says, beaming with pride.
“We had a good operator.” Nat laughs lightly as she steps into the van, ripping off her own goggles and tossing them aside as she falls into Clint’s lap to embrace. Finding their impromptu make-out session a little unsettling, Bucky plucks the earbud and mic from his face and walks around the van to the front seat. Opting to just hear their lips smacking rather than see it.
“Oh shit, where’d Bucky go?” Clint asks suddenly, the noises of the chair squeaking as the two finally get off one another’s face reaching Bucky.
“I’m right here.” Bucky answers back in a monotone voice. “We should be getting back.” “Ah yeah, that’s a good idea,” Clint clears his throat “We’ll debrief back at Stark Tower. Everyone’s waiting for us, and I’m sure Steve can’t wait to see you.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right.” Bucky answers in the same tone.
Bucky glances over his shoulder just as Natalia slides out of the van and lifts a leg over her motorcycle. “Love you honey, see you back at the tower.” Clint calls to her while she reaches for her helmet.
“Love you too.” She calls back before Clint can close the van doors.
Yeah Clint, they’re all waiting for us…Especially Steve. Bucky thinks to himself as Clint slips quietly into the driver’s seat.