Chapter Text
“I need your help.”
You couldn’t resist lifting an eyebrow as you glanced up from your mountain of paperwork to see Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes standing beside your desk, a grave look on his handsome face. “What is so dire that the great Bucky Barnes requires my assistance?”
The Super Soldier let out a huge sigh and plopped into the second seat by yours. “I’m being dragged to a Halloween costume party Sam’s throwing. I have no choice in the matter.”
Your eyebrow rose even higher. “And you need me to watch Alpine while you’re gone?”
“No. I need a beard. If that’s the right term, anyway.”
“Huh?”
“Come with me,” he said with his best big blue begging eyes. “Please. I cannot stand parties and I’d have no one to talk to because I know Sam’s gonna be hittin’ on the ladies and I’ll be stuck there looking like an idiot.”
“Oho, you’re out of luck,” you chortled, going back to your paperwork. “I’d have said yes if it was cat-sitting. I am not going to a Sam Wilson Halloween party.”
“Oh, come on, babe, don’t do this to me,” Bucky moaned. “I’ll do anything you want. Clean your gutters, give your car an oil change, file your taxes—anything. Please don’t make me go to this thing by myself.”
“Bucky, you’re a grown man,” you said patiently. “Just tell him no.”
“Have you ever tried telling Samuel Thomas Wilson no? Because it doesn’t work. He threatened to throw a tear gas bomb through my window if I tried to stay home from the party. You know he’d do it.”
“Then go hide in a seedy bar somewhere, Barnes. I’m not bailing you out.”
Bucky gripped the arms of your rolling chair and pulled you closer to him, locking eyes with you from inches away. “Name your price, sweetheart. I’ll pay it. Anything. I mean it.”
You lowered the folder and gave him a wry look. “And why does it have to be me? I’m not a social butterfly in the least.”
“That’s exactly why I want you. We can hide in the corner making sarcastic comments until Sam is too turnt to notice when we slip out the back. You’re the only person I can stand to be around in a social setting. I am not a party animal. Besides, if you’re there, then the SHIELD girlies will leave me alone. They’re getting pretty ravenous.”
You laughed then. “Well, that much is true. You should hear the shit they say about you in the restroom. They’re hella thirsty.”
“Exactly, which is why I need you. Please. Save me.”
You eyed him, mulling it over. You didn’t want to go to the party either, but you did like Bucky. You’d run several missions with him and while he could be moody and difficult, he was a reliable asset in the field and he had a wicked sense of humor. There weren’t many men who had your back the way he did. So you set the folder aside and crossed your arms, clearing your throat. “Alright, fine. If I go to this party with you, then you take care of my paperwork for a week.”
“Done.”
“And,” you continued. “You’re buying my costume and makeup.”
Bucky scowled, but still nodded. “Done.”
“And you will clean out my garage and organize the attic.”
Bucky groaned. “Come on, that’s not fair. I’m just asking you to go to one costume party and you’re gonna make me do all that?”
“You said anything, Barnes. That was you, not me.”
“I said anything. Thing is singular.”
“And any is plural. Do we have a deal or not, Buck?”
He sighed again. “Fine.”
Bucky pulled out his wallet and offered you a couple of twenties. You lifted an eyebrow again. He rolled his eyes and pulled out a third twenty-dollar-bill. You grinned and snatched the bills victoriously. “Pleasure doing business with you, Barnes.”
“Business, ha! More like highway robbery.” He stood. “Party’s at ten. I’ll pick you up at nine-thirty.”
“I’ll be ready. What costume are you going to wear?”
Bucky winked. “That’s for me to know and you to find out, baby doll.”
You rolled your eyes. “Fine. Keep your secrets.”
He stooped enough to kiss your cheek. You blinked up at him, shocked, and he just grinned, pleased that he’d surprised you. “See you Saturday, girlie.”
With that, he left.
$60 was just enough for a decent costume from Spirit Halloween. You didn’t want to deal with a complicated, uncomfortable costume, so you went with something simple and classic: Batgirl. You found a variation on her costume from Batman: The Animated Series’ fourth season—the black and yellow one. It fit nicely and didn’t have too many pieces and you wouldn’t need heavy makeup either. The boots were nice and practical, too, so you wouldn’t have to teeter around in high heels all night. But you did believe what Bucky had said—you’d probably be there about two hours before Sam got into the drinks and wouldn’t notice your absence.
You did a little pirouette in the full-length mirror and grinned, pleased with the fit of the costume. Your phone chimed. Bucky was out front. You responded that you were on the way and tucked your phone, wallet, and keys in your handy-dandy utility belt before heading outside.
Bucky’s ’67 Impala idled in your driveway, slick and shiny in the moonlight. You popped open the passenger’s side door and slid into the car. “Well, well. Great minds think alike.”
After you snapped on the seatbelt, you turned to see that Bucky had dressed up as none other than Jason Todd aka The Red Hood. Instead of the red helmet, though, he had a domino mask. He had the iconic brown leather jacket and dark grey armor and boots with the red Bat symbol on the shirt. It actually worked quite well. He’d even given himself the little white streak in Jason’s hair at the temple.
“Wow,” you said. “I was fully expecting you to show up as John McClane or some other macho hero.”
Bucky chuckled. “It crossed my mind, but I liked this better.”
He took his time drinking you in. “Lookin’ good, Babs. You’re gonna have to stick close to me or the guys at the party are gonna swarm you.”
“Oh, please. I’m practically modest compared to what some of these girls are going to be wearing. Haven’t you seen Mean Girls?”
“Point taken, but don’t sell yourself short. You look great.”
You scowled. “Don’t try to butter me up, mister. You’re still on the hook for those things you promised me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Babs.” He switched gears and backed out of your driveway. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
You drove to a loft in NYC where you knew Sam stayed when he was working an assignment in the city or near it. You could hear the bumping music from the street and spotted flashing lights in the windows as you and Bucky took the elevator up to the sixth floor. The loft was enormous and open-concept, which was why it was a good place to host a party. As predicted, many of the girls were just in lingerie with some form of animal theme but you did spot plenty of regular costumes mixed in. The DJ’s turntable was to your left and the drinks were languishing on tables to the far right. The couches were on the outskirts of the room so people could dance in the open space in the center.
You spotted Sam in the kitchen mixing up something that went in a punch bowl. The man of the hour was dressed as Morpheus from The Matrix, sporting the round glasses as he chatted with a couple of giggly girls. You and Bucky weaved through the crowd until you reached the island counter and he spotted you, grinning. “Hey! Look who’s here and lookin’ mighty fine!”
“Evening, Sam,” you said, giving him a hug. “Nice costume.”
“You too. I’m loving the cape on you, girl. I’ll go commit a crime right now if you promise to arrest me.”
You laughed. “Please don’t. This night is crazy enough as it is.”
“I see Bucky took your lead,” Sam said, beaming. “You do know Jason and Barbara have dated in the comics before, right?”
“Wow, less than thirty seconds and I already wanna punch you,” Bucky said, glaring. “That’s a record for you, Wilson.”
“I’m just teasing, Buck. Make yourselves at home. I just finished my newest concoction: peach sangria.”
“Ooh.” You accepted the red solo cup he offered to you and then your partner. “Oh, Sam. This is dangerous.”
He laughed. “That’s my middle name, gorgeous. Let me get this out on the table and then I’ll swing back around to check on you two in a bit.”
Sam carefully headed towards the drink table with the punch bowl. You happily sipped at the sangria, which was to die for. Sam was a party animal so he could pretty much whip up any drink a person could want. If nothing else, you knew you’d enjoy the drinks.
You and Bucky headed for a spot by one of the windows looking out onto the NYC nightlife. You sat on the sill across from Bucky sipping your sangria and people-watching.
“Boy, you were right about Mean Girls,” Bucky said. “Lots of girls in lingerie.”
“It’s tradition.” You paused. “And I know I came with you, but you’re welcome to flirt and stuff if you see a cute girl you like.”
Bucky gave you an indignant look. “I brought you here so I wouldn’t have to make small talk and flirt with girls, remember?”
You shrugged. “Just saying. I don’t want you to feel cockblocked.”
“I’m not, trust me. I haven’t really been in the mood for dating lately.”
“Understandable. You’re still trying to find your footing after everything with Thanos, the Flag Smashers, and Hydra. Can’t blame you for wanting to be on your own until you get it figured out.”
“If only my therapist thought as much,” he grunted after another sip of sangria. “She wants me out in the world being social. She said I need to nurture friendships.”
“Well, you are kind of doing that by being here. Especially with me.”
“Yeah, well, you’re easy to talk to when you’re not armed.”
You snorted. “Big bad Bucky Barnes has watched Miss Congeniality. Be still my heart.”
“What? It’s a good movie.”
“Maybe I should’ve shown up as Gracie Hart,” you teased. “I could probably find a replica of one of her evening gowns.”
“You’d look good in anything, sweetheart, even the FBI jacket and slacks.”
You made a show of glancing into his cup. He arched an eyebrow. “What?”
“Trying to find out if Sam slipped truth serum into yours. You never compliment me unless you want something.”
Bucky rolled his eyes. “I do too.”
“Oh, please, when’s the last time you paid me a compliment, Barnes?”
“I congratulated you not two weeks ago on that arms deal bust, didn’t I?”
You pursed your lips. “You were impressed that I dropped a guy twice my size in one hit.”
“That still counts. You’re a total beast when it comes to combat. I’ve seen you clear a room of hostiles in less than ninety seconds, girlie. That’s nothing to sneeze at.”
Your cheeks flushed. You weren’t blushing, dammit. It was just the sangria warming you up. “Thank you. I didn’t think you noticed that sort of thing.”
“I’ve worked with a lot of agents, but you’re the best of the best. Y’know, when you’re not annoying me to death.”
You rolled your eyes. “Annnnd the moment’s ruined, thanks, Barnes.”
“Gotta keep you on your toes, baby doll.” He took another sip, then winced. “Shit. It’s that girl, whatsherface. The one with the beauty mark.”
“Francine,” you supplied.
“Yeah, her. I was hoping she wouldn’t be here tonight. She’s been after me for a month.” Bucky glanced up as a new song queued up and drained his cup, then patted your knee. “Come on, I need an alibi.”
You finished your drink as well and then tossed them both in a nearby trashcan. “Sure, where we headed?”
Bucky took your hand and led you to the dance floor, to your absolute surprise. He wrapped an arm around the small of your back and pulled you close, swaying to the beat as the singer’s warm, brassy voice began to sing.
“Just when I thought I’d seen it all
You came along to rescue me
You read my writing on the wall
You found my bottle in the sea
Just when I thought I’d seen it all
I see something beautiful
No greater love I can recall
I see something wonderful…”
“Wow,” you said, unable to resist a smile. “The cranky old man knows how to dance?”
“Excuse you,” Bucky sniffed. “I was dancing long before you were born, sweetness. Was one of my favorite things back in the day.”
“So many layers to the Bucky Barnes onion. How will I ever peel them all?”
Bucky smirked. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out one of these days.”
“You gave me love I could not find
My lonely days are far behind
I thought I’d never win
Now I’ve cashed my ticket in
It’s true!”
Bucky let you go enough to twirl you and pull you back into him, that easy, familiar smirk on his lips, the multicolored lights bouncing off his square chin and summery blue eyes. You had to admit you kind of liked seeing this part of him. You’d seen him undercover, of course, but never just being himself outside of work. You had to admit it made him even more appealing than usual, which was saying something. You could pretend he annoyed you all day long, but you also knew you were attracted to him regardless.
“Just when I thought I’d seen it all
I see a rainbow in the sky
The raindrops now no longer fall
Nor do the teardrops from my eyes
My world was sad and blue
Until the day I looked at you
Then the sun began to shine
And I’m happy all the time
It’s true!”
He spun you again during the instrumental portion of the song, but brought you back against the wall of muscle that was his chest. You swayed in time with him, feeling a rare girlishness taking over as you realized you were actually having fun dancing with him.
“You gave me love I could not find
My lonely days are far behind
Now the sun, it always shines
And I’m happy all the time
It’s true
Just when I thought I’d seen it all…”
As the last notes of the song played, Bucky dipped you slowly and then pulled you up, that same secretive smirk playing on his lips. He seemed to be enjoying himself too. You were irrationally happy about it and a little afraid too, thinking you could actually make him smile like that.
“Did she finally buzz off?” you asked a bit breathlessly, your arms around his neck, your faces closer than they’d been when you first started dancing.
Bucky scanned the loft. “Looks like, yeah. Thanks for helping me escape.”
“What else is a beard for?”
He chuckled, rubbing the small of your back. “Right. How ‘bout another drink, Batgirl?”
“Sounds good to me, Jason.” The two of you grabbed another couple of drinks and watched Sam playing beer pong with a few of the SHIELD agents. The next hour sidled on by. You visited the restroom once and as you exited, you noted that Francine had unfortunately used the brief time you were away to corner poor Bucky over by the pool table. Something irrationally angry filled your limbs as you observed her in her Playboy bunny outfit tossing her hair and fake-laughing at something he said.
So you resolved to do something about it.
“Oh, there you are!” you said in a sugary-sweet voice once you were within earshot of the two. Bucky gave you an utterly relieved look as you appeared, as if he’d been screaming internally the entire time. His mouth opened to say something, but he couldn’t.
Because you took the opportunity to place a big fat kiss directly onto his lips.
Right in front of Francine.
And…oh my. His lips were as soft as they looked. That was dangerous, alright.
You didn’t hold the kiss for too long, but you did pretend to be drunker than you were, so you counted to three before breaking the kiss and grinning at him like a perky girlfriend would. You then turned to acknowledge Francine, who looked like someone pissed right into her red solo cup. “Hi, Fran. How’s it going?”
“Fine,” she said frostily. “Good seeing you again, Bucky.”
She stalked off in another direction, her stilettos making sharp clicks on the hardwood floor. You let out a low chuckle of pure vengeance as you watched her go. “Serves you right.”
You then cleared your throat. “Ah, sorry about that. I was feeling petty.”
“Mm-hmm,” Bucky said dreamily, his gaze somewhat unfocused as he licked his lips. “You should be petty more often. It’s good for the soul.”
You hit him lightly in the arm. “Insufferable flirt.”
“Yeah, well, I get that way when pretty girls kiss me. It’s a character flaw.”
You shook your head. “Awful. Just awful. One little kiss and you’re ready to propose to me.”
He slipped an arm around you, his grin teasing. “I swear I’d be good to you, baby.”
You laughed. “Uh-huh. A likely story.”
Bucky widened his eyes to look innocent. “Would I lie to you?”
“If you thought you could get away with it.”
He squeezed your hip lightly before pulling away. “Gotta hit the bathroom. If any guy flirts with you while I’m gone, shoot ‘em.”
You laughed again. “Yes, Bucky.”
He left your side. You hung out by the pool table. Sam’s game finished up and he came over, bumping your shoulder with his. “How’s it going, Batgirl?”
“Fine, Morpheus. Great party.”
“I try.” Sam then grinned. “You and Bucky look pretty good together, you know.”
“Oh, don’t start that again,” you groaned. “I will dump this delicious sangria down your leather pants. Don’t play with me, Sam.”
“Just saying. Ole Francine looked like she was gonna turn into She Hulk when you walked over here and kissed him. You know, green with envy.”
“I’m his beard,” you sniffed. “He asked me to come here specifically to ward off the girls.”
“I know. And I also know the two of you seem way too natural to be ‘just friends’ like you keep insisting.”
You eyed him. “Are you being shady, Sam?”
“Who me? Nah. I mean, it’s not like I invited him to this party knowing he would bring you and have a good time and have an epiphany about your relationship—”
You reared your arm back as if to throw the sangria at him, but he chuckled and scurried away. Sam sure could meddle when he felt like it. You hoped he’d just been kidding. Life was messy enough without considering how you felt about Bucky.
Which was…complicated.
Bucky returned a moment later. “I miss anything?”
“Nope,” you lied. “Just Sam losing at pool.”
“Damn. Would’ve liked to have seen that.” He pushed up his sleeve and checked his watch. “How many drinks before you think he’ll forget about us?”
“Hmm…I’d say about three.”
“Got it. Let me go find one of his frat brothers and talk them into some shots.”
You smothered a laugh behind one hand as Bucky beelined for the group over by the DJ. Shortly after, one of them challenged Sam to shots and in less than half an hour, you were both home-free. You slipped out of the party and walked around the block to the Impala, reveling in your own cleverness.
“We made it out before midnight,” Bucky said happily. “Thank God. I’m so ready to hit the sack.”
“As am I. Need to sleep off that sangria. Sam’s really good at mixing drinks. I haven’t been this tipsy in a while.”
“You don’t go out a lot?” Bucky asked.
“I’m an introvert, same as you. I’m only out if one of my extroverted coworkers drags me kicking and screaming out of the house to a party.”
“Mm. S’funny. Just didn’t picture you that way.”
You blinked up at him. “Really?”
“Yeah. You’re funny and smart and easy to get along with. Thought you’d be out more.”
“Not really. My idea of a perfect Friday night is sitting in bed in my underwear watching Castlevania.”
Bucky chuckled. “Noted. Well, since I’m the one who dragged you kicking and screaming out with me, I think it’s only fair I get you to bed. You are pretty tipsy.”
“Just a little bit,” you giggled. “I’m lubricated.”
Bucky choked. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
“Wouldn’t know. I’m still using slang from 2016, for God’s sake.” You reached the car and both got in. The purring engine cranked up and Bucky pulled out of the parking lot to take you home. You relaxed and closed your eyes, nearly dozing off while Peggy Lee crooned in the background. Bucky gently roused you once you arrived home. You climbed out of the car and fished your keys out of your utility belt, unlocking the front door and holding it for Bucky.
By now, the sangria had definitely taken hold of you. You weren’t drunk, but you were circling the drain, as it were. You always felt like being tipsy meant your brain was buffering; you felt like there was a delay or disconnect from your brain to your mouth and limbs. Bucky had noticed, which was why he took off his jacket and went into the kitchen, pouring you a glass of cold water with ice. You drank half, then jabbed a thumb at the hallway. “Bedroom’s this way, Lurch.”
He let out an impressive low grunt that made you giggle as you led him that way, still sipping the water. You flopped on the edge of the bed with a sigh and then pulled off the gloves, the cowl, and the wig. “Hot in this thing.”
“No kidding,” you swore you heard him mutter as he knelt in front of you and unzipped your boots. He placed them just inside your closet and then turned to you, hands on his hips. “Can you get yourself out of that get up or do you need help?”
You debated. The costume zipped up in the back. It would be harder to do while tipsy. “Need help.”
“Alright.” Bucky set your mostly empty glass on the nightstand and then pulled you to your feet. You turned around. You could’ve sworn you heard him inhale sharply, but maybe it was your imagination. He unzipped the back of your costume and you peeled off the top half as you padded over to the dresser, digging out an oversized t-shirt.
“Hey,” Bucky said. “Isn’t that my workout shirt?”
You glanced at him over your shoulder, widening your eyes to look innocent. “Of course not, Bucky. Why would it be your workout shirt?”
He rolled his eyes. “Been looking all over for that thing. I thought only girlfriends were allowed to steal clothes from me.”
You pulled it over your head and then unsnapped the bra underneath, tossing it into the hamper. “You snooze, you lose, Barnes. You left it in the hotel room in Mumbai, remember?”
You pushed the tight material off your thighs and to your ankles, using one hand on the dresser so you wouldn’t topple over. The nicked shirt fell nearly to your knees, so you knew you weren’t flashing the Super Soldier behind you, though he would be getting an eyeful of your legs. You briefly wondered if he was a leg man, an ass man, or a breast man. Hard to tell with Barnes.
“Mm. It does look better on you than it does on me.”
You chuckled as you tossed the costume into the hamper as well. “Just because I have no pants on doesn’t mean you can get fresh with me, mister.”
“Right. I’ll be sure to wait for the pants before I hit on you.” The wry tone made you roll your eyes again as you shuffled towards him.
“My hero,” you said mockingly as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Waiting until I’m fully clothed before throwing yourself at me.”
Bucky smirked as he looped his arms around your waist and locked his fingers over the small of your back. “I am a gentleman, after all.”
His forehead came to rest on yours, gently. The smirk softened. “Thanks for doing this, girlie. I know I tease you a lot, but you’re pretty great. I can count on you. Doesn’t happen a lot in my profession.”
“What are friends for?” You kissed his cheek. “Night, Bucky.”
You waited for him to say it back, but he didn’t just yet. Your eyes locked. There was something in his gaze. Something that hadn’t been there before, but it wasn’t unwelcome. It was akin to admiration, maybe even adoration. Which was crazy. He was your friend. He didn’t think about you the way you thought about him sometimes when it was late and you were feeling lonely.
Or so you thought.
Because right then, he tilted his head and kissed you gently, softly, tenderly. Those plush lips nearly made your knees buckle. He smelled of leather and spicy cologne. It felt too good, too natural, being in his arms, like it had when you were dancing together.
He too seemed to count to three before breaking the kiss. Then he rubbed the small of your back and whispered, “Night, girlie.”
Then he untangled himself from your arms and left, shutting the door behind him.
You stumbled to the bed and drank the last of the ice water, staring at the closed door in stupor.
Oh boy. Complicated indeed.