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“Door breach in 3… 2…” When Captain America finished the count down, she led the team into the next room. Rifle spotlights illuminated the darkness and there was an ominous silence for a few moments before grenades started spewing gas almost directly up at her.
“Well, shit,” she muttered before yelling back to her team a couple yards behind her, “Masks on! Stage one!”
After ripping her gas mask from its place on her hip she stumbled to the side, out of the way of the team as she coughed out the order for them to continue.
Steve held her shoulder, “Are you sure?”
“I got her, go on,” The Winter Soldier took her arm to help steady her as the team left the room, “How much did you breathe?” he asked.
“Enough to know what it is,” her hands started to shake uncontrollably while she fumbled to get a pocket open on her cargo pants, “Neurological agent,” she explained.
“Let me help,” he opened her pocket before looking up at her, “Which one?”
“Red cap, stage one, inject left thigh,” she gasped, gripping his shoulder to keep herself upright when her legs started to spasm.
“Ready, Chels?” Bucky pulled the cap off the needle with his teeth before driving it into her thigh through her clothes and pressing the plunger of the syringe, injecting the antidote.
“Mother fuckin’ son of a bitch!” Chelsey hissed, “Forgot how much that shit burns,”
Bucky smirked, he got used to excessive cursing during the war and she was ex-military. He adored her complete loss of manners during missions. He helped her over to a table where she leaned back against it, still panting for breath.
“Go on ahead, it’s going to take a few minutes for this to wear off,”
He scoffed, leaning beside her and placing a hand on her back, rubbing softly, “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m leavin’ you here,”
Her long dirty blond hair was tied up in a tight bun, but a few wisps had escaped to fall around her face. She rolled her deep brown eyes at him before letting her gun hang from the shoulder strap. Slouching to the side, leaning into his shoulder, her body started to taper off from the muscle twitches. Each twitch of her ribcage forced the air out of her lungs in a shallow gasp. Chelsey started to gag slightly as her esophagus joined in the spasms.
“You sure you don’t need stage two?”
“I-I’m fine. Just g-give it a minute,” she stuttered through panting breaths.
Bucky sighed, shaking his head at her stubbornness as he unclipped a small oxygen tank from its place in one of his pockets. He hooked the nozzle up to the port in her gas mask, “Deep breath,” he ordered as he pulled the trigger, releasing oxygen like an inhaler as she eagerly choked it into her lungs. He detached the tank and shoved it back in place while her gasps started to sound less tense, “Better?”
She nodded, leaning against him again, “Thank you,”
He placed a quick gas mask-covered kiss on her forehead making her giggle before tilting his head to rest on hers, “Of course, darlin’,”
He loved her, had from the first time he saw her in the SHIELD café that Steve drug him into after a run.
It was inside the training building; a long wall of windows looked out over the field and gun range. Bucky still felt out of place in groups when he wasn’t undercover, so he normally trained in the private Avengers building. But that day he let Steve talk him into going for a run on the outdoor track. It was a beautiful day with clouds like cotton sliding in and out of the sunlight.
“Grab a table, I’ll get some food,” Steve said before heading toward the counter and leaving Bucky standing alone in the doorway.
There was a table along a solid wall that he quickly claimed, sitting with his back to the wall and scanning the mid-morning crowd of people. That was the first time he saw her.
She was sitting alone by the windows with a book in her hand and at least three more spread out in front of her. Her blond hair was in loose waves down her shoulders and the glasses perched on her nose framed her warm brown eyes. Bucky took a closer look at the books, reading the titles and subjects. Nuclear Chemistry, Advanced Biochemical Weaponry, and Biological Warfare were the ones he could read clearly. His eyes widened and his eyebrows raised; he decided to look her over more closely. She lounged in her chair with her feet up on the seat across from her. A faded band tee shirt stretched across her chest and her tight light blue jeans were tucked into combat boots. Without looking, she reached out and picked up her cup, bringing it to her lips and taking a long gulp. He got the feeling that it wasn’t some girly frozen coffee drink with the slight grimace she made after she swallowed; the kind of face you make after taking a gulp of good strong dark coffee. When she set the cup down, her eyes flicked up and immediately met his like she knew he was watching. The exact moment she looked at him, the clouds moved and a ray of sunlight landed on her… like a damn cheesy romance movie, he thought. But when her eyes locked on his, she smirked and he knew right then, she had him.
Steve sat, talking about something that Bucky wasn’t listening to.
“Who’s that,” Bucky mumbled, nodding to the girl who had gone back to her reading.
Steve turned to see who his friend was talking about, “Oh, she’s here almost every day. She was one of the only STRIKE members that wasn’t Hydra. Ex-military; Special Forces and weapons of mass destruction(*WMD) specialist,” well that explained the books, “She’s pretty, right?” Steve smirked, earning a sassy glance from his friend.
“A little intimidating,” Bucky admitted before taking a bite from the sandwich Steve ordered for him.
“The Winter Soldier is intimidated?” Steve got another unamused look.
“WMD’s are intimidating!”
“Fair enough,” Steve laughed and they moved conversation elsewhere.
Every few minutes Bucky would glance over at her, flipping through pages, sipping her drink, taking notes. Steve noticed his friend’s fixation.
“Go talk to her,”
Bucky’s eyes snapped back to Steve, “Are you insane?” he deadpanned, “The last person she wants hitting on her is the damn Winter Soldier,”
Steve shrugged, “Fine… I still think you should talk to her though,”
“Shut up, punk,” he sighed, picking at the leftover food on his tray.
The old him would have flirted and tried to pick her up in a heartbeat. But now, something in him had changed over the past 70 years, he had lost his nerve to initiate conversation. He didn’t feel worthy of such lovely company. She looked at him one last time before glancing up at the clock. She closed and organized her books with smooth methodical motions and slid them into her bag, gulped down the last of her drink, and stood up with a slip of paper in hand. With her bag slung over her shoulder, she made her way out of the café and as she passed Steve and Bucky, she covertly placed the slip of paper on their table without slowing down or looking. The shit-eating grin on Steve’s face only grew as she walked away.
“Don’t you dare say…”
“Told you,”
Bucky punched his friend in the shoulder before snatching the paper from the table and reading it. It only had her phone number and name, Chelsey, with a flower drawn next to it. He couldn’t help but smirk at the girly drawing in such stark contrast to her outward appearance.
That was almost a year ago. Her number was in his phone now and when Natasha convinced him to use emojis, he put a flower beside her name.
After a few minutes of shaking, she was ready to go on and follow the team.
“Package secure, heading to extraction,” One of her team informed them through the headset.
“We’ll meet you there,” She replied, pushing off from the table and wobbling for a moment.
“You good?” the concern in Bucky’s voice wasn’t hidden at all.
“Yeah, let’s just… let’s move slow for now,”
They made it outside and carefully started toward the meeting point before there was a loud gunshot. Bucky shot back before they could reload, but he already heard her grunt beside him and stumble back a step. He turned in time to see her pull a hand away from her stomach, covered in dark blood.
“Well, shit,” she grumbled, pulling a larger syringe than before from another pocket, “This is not my best day,” she hissed as she placed the nozzle in the wound and it filled with sterile foam to stop the external bleeding.
“You’re ridiculous,” he scoffed, pulling her arm over his shoulder, he started walking much quicker than they could have if she was walking unassisted. Bucky started talking into his earpiece, “Gunshot wound headed to extraction. We’re going to need a transfusion ready,”
“Who’s hit?” Steve asked.
“Smoke Screen. Lower abdomen with heavy blood loss,” Bucky explained using her code name.
“It’s just not her day, is it?” Steve commented.
“That’s what I said! And, I’m fine, don’t worry,” she wheezed. To which he looked down at her skeptically.
“She’s definitely not fine,” Bucky reported, “Arrival; one minute,” he looked down at her again with a small smirk, “How come our medic is the only one gettin’ hurt on this mission?”
They made it to the group just as the jet touched down in the field. Bucky was practically carrying her up the ramp and, with her stubborn attitude, almost had to force her to lay on the cot. The emergency team cut away her shirt, leaving her in a sports bra and her tactical pants.
“Awh man,” she grumbled, “That was my favorite uniform shirt,”
Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle as he shook his head, that woman would be sarcastic to her last breath. She muttered unhappily while the team stuck IV’s in her arms and sterilized the entry wound. The nurse informed Chelsey that the bullet hadn’t gone through, so they would have to go in and remove it.
“No, leave it,” she deadpanned, “We’re bonding. We have a connection,”
Bucky flopped into a seat beside her and ran a hand down his face while he laughed, “You can keep it in a jar if you’re so attached, just let them do their damn job,” he knew she was scared. He knew her voice and her facial expressions, so he held out his hand giving her the option to hold onto him. She took his hand tightly and he pulled his seat closer to her, near her head to stay out of the way.
Steve walked up, asking how she was doing, and she dramatically let her head lull to the side with her tongue hanging out.
“I don’t know, Cap,” Bucky laughed, “Doesn’t look good. We might have to call it,”
Playing dead didn’t last long because when a nurse pushed forceps into the wound Chelsey almost shot up off the cot, but Bucky saw it coming and was already there to keep her from moving too much.
“It’s a miracle!” he said theatrically, making her laugh a little before wincing.
Steve walked away rolling his eyes and shaking his head while muttering, “You’re both ridiculous,”
The longer the nurses dug around in her wound, the more she hissed in pain. Bucky sat with his elbows on his knees and her hand held to his lips, clasped between both of his. When she would whimper in agony he would shush softly against her knuckles. She was sweating with pain and pinched her eyes shut tightly, a tear slipped out the corner of her eye that she prayed Bucky didn’t see.
“Are you guys almost done?” Bucky asked.
“There’s a lot of fragments, Sargent Barnes,” a nurse explained warily, “And quite a bit of internal bleeding,”
“Well, yeah, that’s where blood’s s’pose to be… internal,” Chelsey grumbled.
After another few minutes watching her struggle to keep her composure, he stood up. Her eyes shot up to him in panic and her hand gripped tighter onto his.
He gave her a small smile and kissed her forehead, “Be right back, promise,”
She frowned, but released his hand with a nod. She watched as he walked far enough away to talk to the head nurse without her overhearing.
“I need you guys to dope her,” he said, with his tone it wasn’t a question.
“We already gave her a pain injection,” they explained.
“Well, it’s not workin’ anymore. You need to put her out so she doesn’t have to take more of this,”
“After the neuro-agent… we don’t know what will happen if we…” The nurse started to explain before looking at his frustration for a moment and nodding, “I’ll see what I can do,”
Before Bucky could walk back to sit with her, Tony came up to him, “How’s she doin’?”
“Pain meds wore off but I think the nurse is finally goin’ to put her under. If they were diggin’ in my side like that without meds I’d be throwing punches,”
“Girl’s tough. I tried to spar with her once and she kicked my ass in less than ten seconds. A beautiful little ball of rage,” Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at his incredibly accurate description of her, Tony put a hand on his friends back, “Go sit with her before they put her out or she’ll know something’s up,”
Bucky only nodded. If it was up to her she would suffer through the whole damn procedure, pain meds or not, determined to not appear weak. When he sat beside her again she gripped his hand hard in hers.
“Halfway done retrieving shrapnel,” she rasped with a forced tight smile. He only shushed her to keep her from talking and made eye contact with the anesthesiologist giving her an injection. Her eyes started to droop as he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. She let her head lull to the side, looking at him sleepily, “You’re always so good to me,” she whispered before closing her eyes with a tired smile.
Once Chelsey was asleep, they put and oxygen mask over her face before continuing their work. While she was unconscious, he still held her hand in his. He thought back and daydreamed about the first time he called her.
The team was lounging around in the common area, snacking on food, watching TV, and talking.
“Call her,” Steve prompted.
“I’m not calling her,”
“C’mon! You gotta call her!” Clint joined into Steve’s nagging.
“I’m not gunna call her,” Bucky repeated from his spot in a plush recliner with his arms crossed on his chest defiantly.
“She gave you her number without being asked,” Tony pointed out, “You should definitely call her,”
“The second she figures out who I am she’ll quit talking to me so what’s the point?”
“You really think she doesn’t know who you are?” Sam laughed, “The shiny arm kinda gives you away, bud,”
Bucky groaned, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, “Just… just shut up, guys,”
“Buck,” Steve sighed making Bucky look up at him, “I think you should give it a chance,”
With that, the conversation ended and the men went back to watching the basketball game on TV. Why couldn’t he muster up the courage to talk to her? He didn’t think she’d turn him down, and honestly, that was the problem. He knew she wouldn’t… but she should. He wasn’t good; not for someone like her. He had nothing to give to a girl like that; nothing to add to her life. She didn’t need a guy like him, and he knew if he got in too deep he would end up needing her.
Later that night he paced his living room with his cellphone in his hand. ‘Just call her, Barnes,’ he kept telling himself. In a sudden rush of irrational courage, he pressed the call button and held the phone to his ear. It rang four times before she answered and he panicked for a moment, but it was too late to hang up now.
“Hi, yeah, it’s – I’m – My name is James Barnes, er – uh, Bucky… you – you gave me your number this morning?” he stammered, no longer pacing but frozen in place.
“I was wondering when you’d call,” her voice was warm, like a slow breeze on a summer day, and he could practically hear the fond smile on her lips, “I’m Chelsey Morgan,”
“I – uh – I was wondering if you’d wanna get dinner with me sometime?” the words came out in a fast string of sounds and she giggled.
“How about you pick me up tomorrow night. Seven o’clock. Sound good?” god, her voice had to be the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.
“Absolutely – that sounds – that sounds perfect,” he let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
“I’ll text you my address. No need to get all dressed up, I’ve got an idea of a place to show you,” he could listen to her talk all day, “Have a good night, James, I’ll see you tomorrow,”
“Yeah, can’t wait. I’ll see you tomorrow, Chelsey,”
They hung up and he fell face first in the couch, groaning into the cushion and dropping his phone on the floor with a soft thump. He did it. He called her. And now, he was supposed to see her the next day. Oh, lord, if he’d been nervous about calling her then there was no way to describe the new anxiety of seeing her again. Oh, no… he’d have to talk to her in person. This was such a bad idea! He couldn’t back out, that’d be rude. He needed a pep talk, and fast.
He found himself knocking on Natasha’s apartment door at almost midnight. She answered the door in sweatpants and a tank top with a look of confusion. When she saw the frantic look on Bucky’s face, she sighed and stepped aside to let him in. He immediately started pacing in her living room.
“I did it. I called her,” he muttered. He figured Natasha had already heard about him and the girl from the café.
“And? How’d it go?”
“Terrible. I have a date with her tomorrow,”
She laughed and grabbed a bottle of vodka, pouring a drink for both of them, “Most people would call that a successful phone call,”
“I could barely speak on the phone! How the fuck am I going to talk to her in person?!” he took the glass and downed it all. Nat sighed, just handing him the bottle.
She flopped onto the couch, leaning over a laptop that laid open on the coffee table, “Give me a name,”
“You’re not stalking her,”
“Do you want my help?”
He relented with a sigh, flopping onto the couch beside her, “Chelsey Morgan,”
“She was with Steve and me on STRIKE,” Natasha pulled up her agent profile, “She’s clearance level 8! When? How’d she get level 8?! Why hasn’t she told me!?” she read faster and more intently.
“How? How is she a level above us?” he leaned forward now, curiosity getting the better of him.
“She kept hacking into their files so they bumped her up hoping it would kill some of her curiosity…” Natasha laughed.
“Like they bumped Steve up so he’d quit complaining about not knowing things,” Bucky smirked, “Then why aren’t you 8? You hack shit all the time… like right now,” he said, noticing the other open programs and windows on her computer.
“I’m sneaky about it… she didn’t care if they knew. And they need her too much to just fire her,”
“Wait, what do you mean ‘why hasn’t she told you’?”
“She’s my best friend!” Nat explained vaguely, “You’d be cute together,” she noted, giving Bucky a side glance, he only rolled his eyes, “Alright, so when is this date?”
“Tomorrow, I’m picking her up at 1900,” he buried his face in his hands with a groan, “What am I doing?”
“You’re going on a date with a beautiful woman,” Nat said sternly, “Now, gut up, soldier. You can do this,”
He scoffed, “No, I can’t!”
She stood, walking to the kitchen to get another bottle of alcohol, “Are you kidding me? Take down an entire militant base single handedly? Sure! Go out with a girl – who made the first move, by the way! – no? C’mon Barnes,”
“You really were not the one to come to for a pep talk,” he grumbled.
“Hey, if you wanted someone to coddle your little emotions you should’a gone to Steve!”
He sighed, “You’re right,”
“What’s that?” she smirked.
“I said you’re right, you pain in the ass!”
She laughed, “Good, now get your girl, Sargent,”
She heard him mumble something as he stood to leave, but he stopped in the door way and turned to her.
“Thanks,”
“Don’t mention it,” she patted his shoulder, “Now get outta my house so I can go to bed,”
Chelsey slowly started waking up only to be met with bright lights and the harsh rubbing alcohol tainted scent of a medical room. She laid in semi-conscious stillness while she listened to the whispering voices around her.
“She’s gunna be so pissed,” Steve whispered.
“You’re a dead man when she wakes up, Barnes,” Sam laughed in agreement.
She could hear Bucky sigh beside her and felt his thumb moving over the back of her hand soothingly, “Can’t fool me, sweetheart,” he murmured, “I can tell you’re awake,”
She opened one eye and closed it again, “I’m asleep for your sake… don’t wanna kick your ass in front of your friends,” her voice was rough and a paper cup was placed in her hand before she heard Bucky’s chair push out when he stood to help her drink.
“Glad you’re alright, Chels,” Steve said as he walked out with a wave.
“Yeah, we’re gunna get outta here so you can give him a proper ass-kicking,” Sam winked when she smiled and he followed Steve down the hall.
She kept looking at the door while she listened to Bucky sit down beside her again. Her head rolled to the side to look at him for a moment before turning away, staring off the other side of her bed at a ‘Proper hand washing’ flier above the sink. When his hand wrapped around hers again she sighed, but allowed it.
“Chels,”
“I had it. I had it under control. I was strong and it was almost done and I had it handled,” she grumbled, still looking away and pouting like a child.
“I know you did,” he sighed, “You’re so strong… but you don’t always gotta be,”
“Yes, I do,” she whispered, “You don’t get into Chemical Corps if you’re pissin’ you’re pants at a mosquito bite,” she was one of the only women in the chemical weapon program and she worked her ass off to be tougher than any man there.
“That was one hell of a mosquito,” he pointed out, “It’s ok to not be ok,”
“Tough is all I got goin’ for me,” she muttered.
She could feel his lips dancing along her knuckles, “Now, that’s gotta be the drugs talkin’. ‘Cause my Chels is so much more than that,”
Finally, she turned her head to look at him. Blue eyes shined up at her from where his elbows rested on the bed holding her hand in both of his. Loving lips left feather-light kisses along every scratch and scar.
“Well, if she’s so wonderful, why don’t you tell me ‘bout her?” she whispered with a small grin, to which he smiled brightly.
“I wouldn’t know where to start,” he smiled against the back of her hand, “I guess, for starters, this girl’s sexy as hell, I mean, one foxy dame. Even when she’s dirty and sweaty… especially when she’s dirty and sweaty layin in my bed,” he winked, “Sharp too. Christ, is she smart. Makes me feel like I don’t know my right from left. Could give Stark and Banner a run for their money… she doesn’t like people to know, though. Gotta keep that genius brain a secret for some reason. Oh! And her heart, god damn, her beautiful heart. Girl’s got more heart than an artichoke farm,” she scoffed and rolled her eyes at his joke, “And for some crazy reason she let me have her heart for a while… hope she lets me keep it a while more,” he kept her hand to his lips while he looked up at her with raised eyebrows and eyes full of hope. With his hands clasped around hers, he almost looked like he was praying and she was his altar; she was his everything… so if he’d ever pray, it’d be to her.
“As long as you still want it, it’s yours,” she whispered.
She carefully moved to one side of her bed before patting a spot for him. With the bed tilted up, not completely flat, he got comfortable with one arm behind her head and the other holding one of her hands on his chest while she cuddled into his side.
“You’re a sap, Barnes,” she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder.
“Don’t go tellin’ anybody,” he mumbled back, looking at her while she tilted her face up to his.
“Secret’s safe with me,” she smiled and kissed him softly.
She needed rest. She might have brushed it all off with sarcastic nonchalance, but she knew the toll a severe stomach wound could take. She was lucky to be alive. After she had been fidgeting for a while, Bucky sighed and ran his fingers through her hair softly, over and over.
“Follow me,” he whispered. Chelsey knew what he meant.
He held her hand flat above his heart while he took deep slow breaths for her to copy. Soon, she was drifting off with the beat of his heart under her fingertips. When he noticed she had fallen asleep he pressed a smiling kiss to her forehead, relieved that they were home safe.