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Steve sticks his hand deep into the pockets of his work pants and pulls out his keys. He finds the silver one and spins it around the keyring until it comes off. He hands it to Natasha, giving her a sharp look in the process. “This is one of only two copies. Please don’t lose it?” He knows Natasha well enough by now to know it’s not likely to be lost in her hands, but he also knows Natasha’s lazy boyfriend Clint and the last thing Steve needs is to change all the locks on the doors because of one lost key.
“Promise, Doc,” Natasha says easily and plucks the key from his hand.
“Remember everything I told you?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Natasha says waving him toward the door.
Steve sighs and looks at the front door of the clinic. This is the first time he’s put the wellbeing of his entire career in the hands of a girl in her early 20s. Okay, maybe he’s being dramatic. Still, it’s his veterinary clinic, under his name, with his insurance policy. So if they get broken into, he might just quit everything and move to Alaska.
“Boss,” Natasha says and Steve can feel her eyes on the back of his neck. “Closing time. If you don’t leave, I can’t close up. If you don’t trust me to close up, then everyone will know your deepseated trust issues are a lot more deepseated than you let on.”
Steve rolls his eyes, but she’s right. He has to do this. He’s gotta trust that someone else can be just as responsible as he is. And of all his vet techs, Natasha certainly fits that bill.
“Remember to check all the-“
“Latches on the kennels,” Natasha cuts in. “I know, I know. Jesus Christ, Doc. Would you scram?”
She gives him a push between the shoulders for good measure and he nods more to himself than her.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m going,” he mumbles and heads into the front lobby. The administrative assistant Thor has already headed home to be with his new fiancé (who he’s been showing pictures of every chance he can get despite the fact that they work with Jane and therefore know what she looks like just fine).
Steve is almost to the door when it’s thrown open, sending the welcome bell into a frenzy, and a man carrying a fishbowl bursts into the clinic. He’s out of breath and it takes him a moment to adjust to his surroundings. His eyes finally land on Steve and then Steve’s white jacket with his name, Dr. Steve Rogers, DVM, emblazoned on it.
“Can you help?” he asks desperately.
Steve, wide-eyed and stunned, looks at the fishbowl in the man’s hands. Inside is a single, sad little goldfish. It’s sitting at the bottom of the bowl, not dead and possibly traumatized.
“Uh,” Steve says and turns around to look through the door that leads to the back where he spots Natasha looking just as perturbed, if a little amused, leaning on the threshold of the door with her arms crossed. She shrugs at Steve when he catches her eye.
“We don’t actually treat… exotic pets,” Steve says slowly.
“Okay, I know,” the man huffs out. He looks down at the bowl and realizes his hands are shaking, so he walks up to the front counter and puts down the bowl. “I’ve been to literally every vet in town. And out of town. Look, I live an hour away, okay? But no one else would help and I just really need someone to help.”
Steve swears the guy’s about to cry and he unwittingly feels himself nodding. Is he really about to stay longer to help diagnose a goldfish?
“Please.”
Yes, he is.
Steve walks over to the bowl on the counter and bends over so he’s at eye-level with the little fish. His rotation in school regarding fish, reptiles, and amphibians was fairly rudimentary and he paid even less attention because he knew he wasn’t going to get certified in it, but he remembered enough to get by.
“What are his symptoms?” Steve asks, watching the fish filter water and do little else.
“Uh, um,” the guy stutters out before coming over to stand by Steve. “Lethargy? Sometimes when he swims, he’s all backwards or sideways or even once upside-down. Shit, I thought he died and I was- Well, can you do something?”
Steve stands up straight and scratches his chin. “Sounds like he’s got swim bladder disease. I hope this isn’t the tank you normally keep him in?”
“God, no,” the man replies. “No. I’ve got this 40-gallon monstrosity at home with a filtering system and… Well, the filter broke a few weeks ago and it took a few days to get a replacement. Is that why he’s sick, you think? And swim bladder disease. That’s not… is that… bad? How bad?”
How bad is it, Doc?
Steve is so used to hearing that from his real clients that hearing it from this guy in regard to his goldfish makes him laugh. “Sorry,” Steve says, covering his mouth because clearly this guy loves his goldfish and he shouldn’t laugh. “It’s not fatal. He’ll be fine. Just make sure you clean the entire tank. I mean everything. This usually happens with bad water, so it could be bacterial. Then try feeding him daphnia for a week. You can usually get it at pet stores. Other than that, I’m not sure there’s a whole lot I can-“
“No, no, that’s great!” the man says and grabs the fishbowl off the counter. “Thank you so much!” And just like that, he’s gone.
“That was so weird,” Natasha comments from the doorway behind Steve. Steve nods in agreement. Yeah, that was definitely weird.
Steve doesn’t think much about the man and his goldfish after that. He doesn’t get an angry letter in the business mail, so he assumes he’s not getting sued for malpractice and then after a few weeks pass, he forgets all about him.
Which is why it takes a good 30 seconds for him to realize the man in the front of the clinic is goldfish guy. He looks starkly different with his long hair pulled back and not out of breath or panicking because of a fish.
And really this guy is cute.
Okay, he’s hot.
Shit. Focus, Steve. Thor looks behind him at the door where Steve is standing and it puts Steve in motion. He comes around the counter and goldfish guy immediately perks up, a (really fucking cute holy shit where did this guy come from) smile lighting up his face.
“Doctor Rogers!” the man says and extends his hand.
Steve shakes it. “Hello again.”
“Bucky.” The guy – Bucky – lets go of his hand but never stops smiling. “Sorry, I realized it was a bit unorthodox the way I just kinda barged in and didn’t, like, sign anything and then left without paying.”
They have an audience now, a few of the waiting clients staring at the exchange, so Steve takes a step back and motions toward the back room. “Let’s go back to my office. Let Thor get on with his work.”
Steve leads the way into the back toward his office, which is more or less a glorified closet space with the smallest desk in the world covered in paperwork. All along the walls are pictures of favorite clients of his (the animals, not the people). Steve goes around and sits at the desk while Bucky takes a seat across from him in the battered chair on the other side.
“I’m hoping this is a happy visit?” Steve asks, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“Yes! Shit, I owe you, man. You saved my life.”
Steve laughs. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I would,” Bucky says seriously and at Steve’s curious look, Bucky adds, “The fish was sort of a test.”
“A test?”
“Yeah.” Bucky looks down at this hands in his lap and Steve notices the top of a tattoo just above the collar of his white t-shirt. “It’s, um, for AA,” Bucky continues and the words color his cheeks bright pink.
“Oh,” Steve says, taken aback.
“It’s, um, about responsibility. Y’know, first you gotta keep a plant alive for 6 months, then a fish, then you can get a dog or a cat. Shit. I thought I really fucked up with that fish. I knew it wasn’t me, but then I thought, what if this is like, divine intervention? What if I was never meant to get better? Which is a really shitty thing to think, but I-“ Bucky stops short and looks up at Steve as if just realizing he’s still talking. “Sorry.” He laughs awkwardly. “Didn’t mean to unload on you.” He runs a hand down his face and that charming smile is back on his face.
Steve smiles back. “It’s fine, really. I’m glad I could help. That is my job, after all.”
“Yeah,” Bucky says. He leans forward so Steve can see his blue eyes clearly in the fluorescent lights of his office. “Well, listen, I never got to pay you for what you did, and I am hopefully not going to be a regular client anytime soon, unless Winter Soldier gets sick again, God forbid.”
“Winter Soldier?”
“My goldfish.”
“Oh, right,” Steve says, and Bucky smiles wider at the look of bewilderment on Steve’s face.
“Long story,” Bucky says. “But listen, about the whole payment thing…”
“Oh,” Steve says and puts up a hand to stop him. “No need. My advice comes free. It’s the medicine you really gotta pay for. And you didn’t get any of that, so you’re scot-free.”
“Oh,” Bucky replies and looks relieved, his shoulders slumping slightly and he leans back into the chair. “See, I don’t actually have money to spare right now. Just started a new job – one I don’t hate, actually. Sorry, unloading again. Um, so I was gonna…” Once again, he blushes and Steve thinks it might be the cutest thing he’s ever seen.
“What is it?” Steve asks.
“Oh, um, well I was gonna offer to take you out. To dinner. Or something. Somewhere. Sorry, it was stupid.”
Steve feels his heart beat a tattoo against his chest and wonders just how red he is compared to Bucky who’s more akin to a beet than a human at this point.
“Like, on a date?” Steve asks, not quite sure if he’s understood right.
“Yeah. But I get it. Y’know, you’ve got your whole life together and I’m just some asshole with a fish who is so screwed up. Honestly, I’d be a nightmare to date and God, you’re not even gay, are you? Shit, I read this all wrong and I now I feel like a-“
“I’d love to,” Steve cuts in and Bucky is stunned into silence.
“You…?” Bucky starts.
Steve nods seriously. “Yeah, I’d like that. I mean, this way I can do home visits to make sure you’re taking real care of Winter Soldier.”
Bucky cracks a smile. “Home visits, huh?”
Steve shrugs, all nonchalance despite his thrumming anxiety. “Sure,” he says. “Anyway, I get off at 5 today if you wanna meet somewhere.”
Bucky sits up straighter in his chair and grins wide. “Yeah! Yeah, that’d be awesome.”
“Great,” Steve says cheerily.
“Y’know,” Bucky says, “I kinda always hated that fish? And now I feel like I owe him one.”
“How about we stop at the pet store on the way back. We could pick out some nice underwater foliage for him,” Steve suggests.
“Picking out underwater foliage for a goldfish named Winter Soldier,” Bucky replies. “I think that’s the most romantic first date idea I’ve ever heard.”