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In Search Of One Man [Defiant x Temptationist]

Her words made him feel warm and good, her hand holding his enforcing her words. Punching them through so he knew just how much she wanted him to really understand how much she felt them to be true. And while he heard them, it was hard to comprehend there was more out there. Going from assassin to a recluse to all of a sudden being with her and on the run. It was a lot. And she believed in. Saw something he couldn't but it helped, to know she truly believed he could be better, that he already was better.

Her hand upon his face and then his neck, he watched her closely. He wanted to touch her. And not how he had been. He wanted to hold her and feel her flesh under his fingers. Her words coupled with the touches made that urge so much stronger. The way she spoke, the way her eyes looked into his eyes. Part of him thought she wanted the same thing but he didn't know. Emotions. Damn they were confusing...

Her hand fell away and the urge lingered.

Then his words triggered an unexpected reaction and he simply stared at her as he pushed at him then grabbed his jacket and allowed her to shout and shake him. Once she was finished he frowned and glanced down at himself. He'd never considered he could already be a good person. All he knew was right now, she was the only person he wanted to actually be around and he didn't want her to suffer. He never thought he deserved to be happy, it was just something he wanted. And he'd been trained to follow orders which was essentially making everyone else happy.

“I didn't mean to upset you,” he said, and he couldn't help but smile because he didn't remember the last time he had someone express so much of anything for him. He cupped her face, his thumb tracing her cheekbone. “This is all new to me. I don't remember caring about anyone. And you're sort of the only person I know right now. I just... I want you to be happy,” he offered and licked over his bottom lip slowly. “I don't see what you see in me, not yet anyway,” his thumb moved in slow circles just over her jaw line with his flesh hand.
 
As you smiled to me, I couldn't help but smile back. I wanted so much to hide that smile, but it overcame me like an uncontrollable wave of emotion. Watching you smile as I shook you, I almost wanted to laugh - but only because it was all so silly. It was the type of angry laughing where I wanted to punch that smile right off your face. This was supposed to be serious, but it was ridiculous, all at the same time. If anything, I wanted to guide you - but I was so worked up in my own confusion, that I was only making the situation more emotional, and more distorted. I wanted so bad to slap the Winter Soldier out of you; to make you realize that it could not define you. I was becoming lost in this process - realizing that perhaps, it was also me who needed to move on.

When your hand came to caress the side of my face, my smile only grew. My hand moved to cup yours. I held your flesh hand to my face, desperate for human touch just as much as you were. "I'm not upset with you..." My eyes were hesitant to look at you. I feared I would lose myself more if I stared long enough into your eyes. As much as I fought the urge not to look at you, I gave in. I gave in to you completely. Melting somewhat in the palm of your hand, my eyes peered deeply into yours.

"With kind eyes..." I said softly, delicately. I repeated those same words; those that I had breathed into your mind just moments ago. "Patient..." My soft voice had hushed into an intimate whisper, my face inches from yours. My hot breath beat against your lips, just a lean away from meeting my own. I looked down at your lips as you licked them. My eyes flickered from your mouth to your eyes as I slowly leaned forward. Interrupting any further attempt to speak, I planted a soft kiss upon your lips.
 
He met her lips as she leaned forward. His metal hand came up to cup the other side of her face. He had the urge to hold her, keep her grounded to him. Flesh fingers moved around her neck and his hand rested against the back of her neck while he drew the left back and then slid it around her waist and he pulled her closer to him. He moved his lips slowly against hers.

After only a few moments he pulled lips back, his face staying very close to hers, lips nearly brushing against hers as he spoke. “This is very new territory for me,” he said quietly, the thumb of the hand resting on the back of her neck moving in small circles just above her hairline and across the base of her skull as he looked into her eyes.

The hand resting against her back moved to her waist and rested on the curve of her hip. “I don't know what the protocol is for kissing the girl who broke into my apartment before two people come to try and do whatever they were trying to do,” he said, his face breaking into an easy smile. One that fit on the face of the man he was when he was trying to smooth talk a pretty girl in Brooklyn more than 70 years ago.

“I may not know the protocol, but I am really liking how your lips feel on mine,” he spoke softly and parted his lips just a little as he tilted his head, pressing his mouth to hers once more as his arm around her waist pulled her to the side so she was sitting on his lap sideways and his lips moved slow and easy against hers while his hand came to rest on her hip once more and the one which had been resting against the back of her neck moved and his arm rested across the front of her legs.
 
I hummed lightly after our lips parted. I was trying to look you in the eyes, but my eyes kept trailing to your lips. "Maybe not as new as you think," I joked, trying to charm you as you had done to me. My lips lay just centimeters from yours - my breath beating, hot and heavy. I looked back up at you and noticed a bright, luminous smile that stretched across your face. I couldn't help but think to myself, this is a long way from a cold-blooded killer. "There it is. Bucky." I said with a proud grin. I brought my index finger up to your face and gently tapped your cheek. "The smile. The same smile that could swoon a woman from a mile away." I chuckled lightly, falling into a deep stare as I thought about all of you that you had lost to HYDRA.

I pushed all of that to the back of my mind as you grabbed my body and re-positioned me onto your lap. As you moved me over, I began to blush slightly. "Oh," I said with soft surprise, "No protocol, huh?" I teased, "I think you know exactly... what... you're... doing." With every pause, I leaned my head closer and closer to you; whispering more and more seductively as I went in for another embrace.

But just as I went in to silence you with another kiss, the train began to suddenly brake and I was thrown from your lap. The train was braking hard, like someone had pulled the emergency brake. All at once, the travelling crate went from 50 miles an hour to 0 in bare seconds. My body, not expecting the rapid decline of speed, flew forward across the crate like a limp rag doll and slammed against the front wall.

Rolling over onto my side, I held my head with my hand. I had slammed it in the toss. My other hand gripped the side of my ribs - I had broken a few, but they were already fusing together. "J-James!" I whimpered, trying to find you amidst the darkness of the crate. The train, now at a stop, was dead silent. Something was wrong.
 
When the train braked Bucky had felt her slip from his lap and his metal fingers dug into the wood to keep himself steady. His body shifted with the force, but he'd been able to prevent himself from coming to harm. He sat still for a moment before he heard her voice and having heightened senses he could see the silhouette of her body in the darkness and moved quickly to kneel by her side. “What's sore?” he asked, letting his flesh fingers slip under hers on her skull to make sure she hadn't injured her head too badly. “You can handle bullets but brakes and a few boxes get you down?” He asked, trying to keep the situation light as the silence began to surround them. “Brakes are metal,” he mumbled more to himself then he leaned over and grabbed the heavy door.

He tugged it open just a bit and peeked out. There was a jet sitting on the tracks just in front of the train and a redheaded woman standing between it and the jet. “Okay. I think more of those two's friends showed up,” he sighed, noticing the way the woman's hands were held up and seemed as though she was keeping the train in place. If he listened hard, he could hear the gears grinding, trying to move forward. She'd stopped the train.

He saw movement on the top of the train and ducked his head back in. “Stay quiet,” he whispered and inched his way back to her. The man on the top of the train was too close to close the door, he'd hear it. But Bucky didn't know the man would be able to smell them better since he'd opened the door. He put a hand on her shoulder, his body tight and rigid, waiting for the need to defend themselves. His eyes were glued to the door... it was just above the sound of a whisper the sound of the lock clicking on the opposite side of the car. He turned quick and stepped over her. Just as the door opened he moved. Tackling the guy to the ground and when he went to punch his face, the man stopped his punch. Bucky frowned then reeled back when three blades extended from each hand. He'd have to use different tactics with this one.

Phoenix. We're not here to hurt you. We followed Erik. Charles Xavier was sat just outside the jet and saw the flurry of activity between the man who'd escaped with her when Erik and Mystique had gone into the apartment building. He's been recruiting for the Brotherhood. We've been watching his activities closely.

Bucky squared his body, turning so his bionic arm was between Wolverine and himself. “Unlucky for you, I don't take to being tackled very well. Pretty sure we're not supposed to hurt you,” he grunted, getting to his feet. Bucky just glared, his eyes focusing then he was moving and used the arm to deflect the first blow from the metal before his flesh hand grabbed Wolverine's left wrist as his left hand threw a quick punch to his head. The sound of metal hitting metal surprised him but Logan's skin split just above his eyebrow but he didn't seemed phased by it in the least. His bionic arm caught Logan's right hand just as he was about to slide his ribs. Bucky grit his teeth as they stared at each, Logan trying to force his arms out while Bucky tried to keep him there. Logan threw his head forward and the metal surrounding his skull made his head thicker and stronger than Bucky's and his grip loosened from the moment of dizziness from the headbutt.

Logan twisted his left free from Buck's right and his claw sliced through Bucky's bicep like it was butter. Buck gasped and his right hand tightened around Logan's and he yanked him forward so they were chest to chest then propelled himself forward, catching Logan off guard. He'd assumed he'd react to the deep cut more. Bucky used the opportunity to let his bionic arm get a few good licks into, the skin of Logan's face bruising and tearing under the force of the punches.

The whole fight lasted only a few minutes but Bucky was aware of others closing in on them. He looked over to gauge the threat but he couldn't. He didn't know what these people were capable of. He pushed himself to his feet and back into the car. “C'mon!” he urged, grabbing Penelope and pulled her to her feet then shoved the other door open enough to get them through and held her as he got them out of the train car then took off running in the opposite direction of the train and the jet.

Do not run. We can protect you from Erik. There is no way for you defend against him. Not with James' arm being made of metal. Erik will hurt him to get to you. Charles said, his eyes watching the two figures in the distance running away as he sat in his chair.

Bucky, unable to hear the voice filling her head, kept a firm grip on her hand as he pulled her to try and keep up wanting to get away from them since if they could control his arm the way Magneto had been able to then he was pretty much defenceless.
 
When you came over to me and cupped my head, I was in evident pain. Something I has previously told you I couldn't feel anymore. My eye brows crimped together as I held my head. Hearing your snide comment, I began to laugh weakly. “...Asshole.” I was just being cheeky, and playful – I wasn't serious. Though, that smile washed off my face almost instantly as the laughing turned to heavy coughing. I heaved out a mouthful of blood, spitting it onto the floor below me as you grasped my shoulder. I moved my hand to my side once more, digging my fingers into my ribs to feel the breaks. I squirmed – it hurt like hell. My rib had fractured and punctured my left lung.

As you immediately acted to find the culprit for the sudden stop, I could barely move. Friends? What friends? My first though was Magneto, that he had returned. But friends of his? We were in trouble. Ordering me to stay quiet, I had no choice. I followed your words, and didn't spout another word. Even if I wanted to make another snarky remark, I couldn't. I could feel my heart beginning to race, and my breaths shortening.

As Wolverine bust through the door and into the train cart, my eyes moved up. My mind was telling me to go. To get up. To move. What are you doing? I thought to myself. Get up. Go! Nothing. I could do nothing but try to focus on the moving image that was you and Logan. I felt short of breath and dizzy. The room was spinning around me, and I could barely see the two of you moving in full clarity. Everything was a dark blur; tossing around in slow motion as I lay still. “J-J-Ja-...” I couldn't even pronounce your name.

Something was very wrong.

There was a deafening ringing in my ears. Despite the grunts, screams, and clashing of steels, I could here none of it. The only thing I soon began to hear was a foreign male voice. A voice that I had never heard with my own ears, but only through the memories of Mystique. It was the voice of Charles Xavier. A look of confusion crossed my face as I curled up in a ball and began to shake. Ignoring the voice inside my head, my fluttering eyes barely looked up at you as you yelled for me to stand, and scooped me up onto my feet. “J-James...” I whimpered, “Some...something is w-wrong... W-wrong with m-me.” My legs felt like noodles below me, unable to properly support the lithe weight of my body. The voice came back into my head. “Get... to... m-me?” I stuttered, directly reacting to Charles explanation. Me? What would Magneto want with me? What has he done to me?

As you pulled my wobbling body in attempt to run and escape, I squeezed your hand tighter. “Stop!” I managed to holler out, despite my growing disability. I would have rather let go of your hand, but knew that if I did, I would fall. As you finally turned around to look at me, my eyes rolled back into my skull, and I collapsed forward. Falling limp right into your arms, I was unconscious.

- - -​

“Charles!” Jean screamed out, instantly releasing the train at the sight of my collapse, and darting towards the two of us. Charles instantly switched his telepathic focus from me, to you.

“Jean is doctor. Let her help you. Let her help Penelope.” His power over you was alarming. As the strongest telepath in the world, Professor X could full-body control people without their permission or their will.

Just moments after falling unconscious in your arms, I began to foam from the mouth, and my body began to convulse. “She's going into shock!” She huffed, pulling my small frame right from your arms and slowly laying me on the ground. The seizure stopped after a few seconds, but I was still unconscious. Jean began to frantically examine me. Her medical degree serving her well in this moment.

“I thought you said she could regenerate.” Wolverine frowned as he looked at my immobile body confused.

“Logan!” She yelled. “Get the jet.” Charles just watched the scene unfold, but slowly began to retreat to the ramp of the aircraft. “Severe concussion, three broken ribs...” She paused as she pushed into my left side. “Punctured lung. She's bleeding internally. She's lost too much blood.” Out of breath, Jean looked up at you in the utmost desperation. “Please,” She pleaded, “Come with us. I can stabilize her in the jet, but I'll need to treat her at our facility in New York." Her eyes filled with fear, completely serious of the danger of the situation. "I have to take her or she'll be dead in an hour.”
 
The second she yelled for him to stop he did and turned to face her and then she was in his arms. He knelt down, cradling her gently as he noticed, for the first time she was injured. The last five minutes played out and he remembered her saying she was hurt. He'd been worried about the head but then she coughed. It was wet and he could smell the blood but he ignored it. Assuming the other man was the threat.

The voice in his head made him feel far away for a moment. The convulsions caused him to focus his attention back on her and then the woman who was suddenly in front of them and talking. “She's bleeding,” he mumbled, staring at the foam. He knew what the pink foam around the mouth meant.

Bucky's gaze shifted to Wolverine for a moment before he looked to Jean as she spoke and moved her hands over Penelope's side. Bucky searched her eyes as the jet came to land closer to them. He gave a nod of his head. He couldn't make this decision for her, but he couldn't let her die either.

He slipped his arms under her body and lifted her easily from the ground and was mindful of her ribs, making sure to not move her torso much to reduce the risk of injuring the lung tissue further. He carried her onto the jet and followed Jean to lay her down where she indicated. He was tempted to leave, run away. But he couldn't leave her alone. Not with people he didn't know or trust.

Penelope was fast becoming the only person he felt he could trust and he wasn't going to abandon her. Just because going to New York, where Steve Rogers and the rest of the Avengers called home and it felt like he was being taken closer to something he didn't want to be near.

He stepped back when Jean gave his shoulder a gentle push and glanced around, looking at the new group of people. They made him uneasy. Too many people he didn't know in such a small space. He swallowed the feelings down and then looked over when Logan dropped his duffel on the ground. “You and I, we're gonna finish that later,” he stated then stepped around them and took his seat.

Bucky never bothered following him, he just focused his eyes back on Penelope as Jean worked to stabilize her. A tube was put down her throat to allow her to breath while she was given a coagulant to slow the bleeding in her lungs. She punctured between the first and third rib to allow for a drain, not allowing the rest of the lung to fill with blood. “Stabilized,” she called and strapped her down. “Come on,” she said and put a hand on Bucky's arm and made him sit then motioned for the belt. “Buckle up,” she stated as Storm lifted the jet and headed off towards New York.

The trip was fast, and Bucky's gaze never left Penelope's supine body.

As they left the jet Bucky tried to follow but was stopped by Logan. “Surgery buddy, don't think you're exactly sterilized or educated enough for the operating room,” he said and sighed then crossed his arms. “Alright. C'mon. You need a shower and a change of clothes. Maybe a shave and trim,” he said and nodded his head for Bucky to follow him.

Bucky hesitated but knew he couldn't do anything so he stepped away from the doors they'd taken her through and followed the other man. The elevator ride was awkward, to say the least. “You got a mean left hook,” Logan offered.

“And you have nice... knives?” He asked, glancing at the man's hands. “Claws?” He frowned, not sure what to call them.

“Claws... Claws works,” Logan replied and let out a sigh as they fell into an awkward silence again.

The doors opened and Logan lead Buck to a room he could stay in and Bucky looked around the room. It was a huge upgrade from his last apartment and this was just a room. With an very nice en suite. He dropped his bag onto the bed and walked into the bathroom to shower and shave. He couldn't do much for the hair trim right now so he settled for what he could.

He had some clothes in the bag and after he'd dried, he dressed then sat on the bed and waited. Time was irrelevant for so long he didn't bother to keep track of it. He just sort of... zoned out and then there was a knock at his door. He stood and walked over and opened the door.

Jean was standing there. “C'mon. She's resting. We gave her some blood, sealed the lung and fixed her ribs. She'll be down for a while but she'll be okay,” she smiled as he followed her.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, his hands shoved into his pockets as he walked with her to the elevator. “Why didn't she regenerate? She was shot three times point blank and pushed those out like they were nothing,” he said, looking to Jean for answers.

“It's hard to say. The medical world has not caught up with us yet. Us mutants that is,” she reasoned and cast a quick glance in his direction then to his bionic arm. “We don't know why or how some of us are the way we are. So there's no definitive answer,” she smiled. “But she will be okay. And her regeneration will reduce the risk of long term damage.”

“I'm not a mutant. Just a human who was experimented on with enhancing drugs,” he pointed out. “I was boring, then that changed,” he looked at her. “I'm an experiment, not evolution.”

Jean stared at him a moment. “We all evolve in our own ways James,” she said then stepped out when the doors opened and lead him to Penelope's room. He let out a sigh of relief finally able to see her and then walked over to her and went to take her hand in his then hesitated. He didn't know if it would hurt her, her power plus her being in a weakened state he didn't want to risk it.

“What happened to your arm?” Jean asked, noticing the shirt he'd tied around his bicep. “Nothing. Just a scratch,” he stated, not taking his eyes off of Penelope. Jean came forward and tugged the shirt free then frowned. “That is cut nearly to the bone,” she frowned. “C'mon. We'll get that stitched up. “Here. You can do that here. I'm not leaving her again,” he stated.

“You hairy men, I swear,” she rolled her eyes as she walked out and returned with a surgical tray. She stitched him up quickly then checked Penelope's vitals before slipping out of the room. She told him to hit a button which would page her if either needed anything.

Bucky sat by her bed for a while then shifted so he resting his head by her hip, it wasn't comfortable but the events plus lack of food for his high metabolism had left him feeling tired and he gradually nodded off with his arms folded under his head.
 
Hours go by before my eyes slowly began to open. I blinked several times, still in a haze as I felt weight on my legs. Turning my head to look at the source, I saw you, sleeping. A big smile stretched across my face. It had only been an hour or so since we hit the train, and yet here you were sprawled out on me like a baby in a warm crib. Warm. It was warm. How did the crate get so warm? ... And so soft?

Lifting my hand to gently stroke your head, my eyes began to clear. My focus suddenly zoomed in on my hand and arm, filled with tubes, IVs, and monitors. My body jolted, enough movement to wake any sleeping bear. As reality set in, I looked around the room. We weren't in a train. We were in a hospital... or clinic, or something medical. My heart rate began to escalate, the monitor I was hooked up lighting up like a god damn Christmas tree.

With barely any memories of the incident, I grabbed your arm. “Bucky!” I shouted in sheer fear. Evidently startled as I frantically looked around me in confusion, I had never expressed fear before – not in years. But in this moment, I was afraid. Not because I feared you, or the hospital, but because I feared myself in that moment. With no recollection of how I got here, I wondered what the hell happen between sharing an intimate kiss on the train, and now, this.

As you lifted your head, I ripped off the mask that was giving me fresh oxygen. I barreled off the other side of the bed, opposite to you. Not realizing that I was injured, I folded over as I felt pain blast through my side. “Bucky!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, panicking. I nearly fell to the floor again. The monitor was shrieking as my body separated from the monitors.

Jean burst through the doors. “Penelope!” She called out to me, trying to soothe my mind by talking to be both vocally and in my head. But I was so distraught, my mind was not susceptible to telepathy. “Don't panic. It's me. Look, it's Jean. And Bucky...” She exclaimed, “James is right here!” She held her hands out to calm me down, but when I turned around she smile dropped from her face.

My eyes were black as night. Turning to face you, I nearly tore my gown right off my body. Lifting it up over my belly, I felt my insides turn. The bruising and freshly sewn wound from the surgery began to disappear. The bruises faded to my skin color as the stitches fell from my body. As the wound healed, my eyes returned to their natural amber hazel. Holding my side in confusion, I remained wide-eyed and swallowed roughly. “Jean... Something is wrong with me...” My voice trembled. For the first time in a long time, I was not confident. I was afraid. “I feel like...” I tried to speak, but I lost my breath. “I fee like I'm losing control of my body.”

As she moved forward towards me, I put my hand out for her to stop. “Don't come near me. No one come near me.” I backed up, my body pressing against a counter running around the wall. I knocked over several vials and supplies in the panic. Jean listened, and didn't move any closer.

“Just breathe. I know.” She tried to soothe me. “I ran some tests and...” She swallowed roughly, “Your antibodies are off the charts. Whatever virus is in you, it's attacking your X-Gene.”

I threw my hands up in the air, shaking them in a state of refusal. Swallowing, I shook my head too. “Stop.” I was becoming clearly agitated and evidently overwhelmed. “Leave me alone.” I swallowed again. “Get out! I want to be alone.”

She nodded hesitantly, knowing any sort of approach would just end in more reaction. Turning to you, Jean motioned for you to come with her. “Let's go.”

“With him...!” I was trying to do just as she told me; breathe. As I took a deep breath in, I looked over to you. My eyes nervously fell upon you. "I want to be alone with him.”

Jean looked over to you with concern, and then over to me with that same confused look. Ignoring her medical instinct to evaluate me, she nodded again. The doors slid open and she was gone.
 
He stirred when he felt her fingers stroking his head, he huffed out a content sigh, shifted his arms and continued to doze until she jolted. It pulled him right out of his slumber and he was sitting up, his gaze on her face before his attention was pulled to the monitor. “Hey it's okay! We're safe. They're good people,” he said quickly, his hands moving to hold her hand.

“You were unconscious. You're okay though. I swear. You're going to be fine,” he said and cut off what he was going to say next when she barrelled herself off the other side of the bed. “Son of a bitch!” He yelled and moved around to go by her side and put a hand on her shoulder. “I'm here! I'm here Penelope!” He urged, not yelling but speaking loud enough he hoped to get her attention and get her to really hear him.

When Jean burst into the room he didn't move, he stayed by Penelope's side and hoped Jean would pull her out of this panic. But she looked away from him then she was looking at him and his hand slid down when he saw her eyes, not sure what was going on. He'd seen some crazy things in his life. He knew he did. He remembered some. Not all. But he remembered a man with red skin.

As Penelope nearly tore her gown form her body he stepped back and cast a look at Jean. “What did you do to her?!” he yelled, his hand motioning out towards Penelope. “I didn't do anything but the surgery, this is her X-gene,” she said in quick explanation to him, her own gaze staying on the other woman.

Bucky could hear the fear in Penelope's voice as she spoke to Jean and when she moved back towards the counter, Buck ignored his instincts to follow her as Jean moved forward. He didn't want to crowd Penelope when she was in a state of panic. Jean was a doctor... she knew better than he did. But he still felt the need to protect the woman who'd broken into his apartment.

He watched the interaction between the two women and when she said she wanted to be alone he frowned, he didn't like the idea of her being alone but he wasn't about to argue. He'd just wait outside the room. He'd be able to hear if she needed help or called for him. So when Jean began to leave and said for him to follow he took a few steps then stopped when she said she wanted to be alone with him.

Meeting Jean's gaze he gave her a light smile then watched her leave the room. He reached behind himself and then walked over to Penelope slowly. “I'm just gonna put the blanket over ya. It's chilly in here,” he said as he approached, not knowing where she was at mentally right now.

When he reached her he slid the blanket across her shoulders gently and kept his gaze on her face. “You're okay. You're going to be okay,” he said, the confidence in his voice steady because he believed his words.

With is arm still across her shoulders he gave her a gently bit of pressure with his arm. “C'mon, let's get you back on the bed. You shouldn't be exerting yourself too much,” he reasoned and continued to lead her towards the bed she'd thrown herself from when she woke.

As he helped her get back onto the bed he stood by her side and let out a sigh then lowered his gaze to her arms and put his hand over hers. “They took us to New York. I didn't know what else to do. You were dying,” he said quietly and lifted his gaze back to meet her eyes and held it steady. “I didn't... There wasn't another option,” he said, shaking his head. “You're lung was punctured. I don't have the training to fix that,” he explained and frowned. “I'm sorry. I should have caught you when that train braked,” he said and lifted his other hand and tucked some stray strands of her hair behind her ear.

“If they wanted to hurt us though, they would have by now,” he said and glanced towards the door then back to her. “But... we should stay. If you have a virus. She's a doctor and she saved your life. Maybe she can help with whatever just happened,” he suggested.

Life was so much simpler when he was by himself. But now she'd stepped into his life and he couldn't just abandon her. She may have broken into his apartment and maybe it was her who lead those people to him or maybe they were after her. He didn't know. But it was over and done and there was something about her which kept him there.

“You felt pain,” he pointed out after a few moments. “You said you couldn't feel anything,” he said quietly and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Not the best thing to feel but you did feel it,” he offered, hoping she could see the positive and being able to just feel something.
 
As you came near me with a blanket, my eyes began to water. I felt so overwhelmed, that all I wanted to do was cry in your arms. But I didn't. I didn't even shed a tear. I took a deep breath, pushed my emotions to the back of my mind, and swallowed the urge. Feeling the blanket over my shoulder, a smile began to appear. This was the Bucky Captain America was talking about.

Without a word, I followed your lead to the bed and slowly lay down again. The gesture was only short lived. When you said those dreadful words "New York", my body shot up again. "Bucky..." I said softly, my eyes wide as they gazed at you. "You're in New York." I didn't even care where I was. I was concerned for you. New York was where I had resided for many years - this was like a second home. But for you, this was a place you tried to get away from, and went to great efforts to escape.

I pulled my legs over the side of the bed, sitting in an upright position before you. My knees pushed against your legs, I moved forward as your hand met my face; pushing away those few strands of hair behind my ear. "Thank you." I whispered. That statement was heartfelt, and genuine. Allowing my head to drop, I closed my eyes. "You shouldn't have done that for me." Opening my eyes slowly, I pulled my head up to look at you once more. "I should have regenerated instantly..." I shook my head, "I shouldn't have even gotten so badly mangled from such an insignificant accident." I was still confused about what happened, but just looking at you made me feel a little more at peace. "But I did, I.... I felt the pain."

* * *​

More test results came in. Jean looked at them with a lowered brow. "...what?" She muttered to herself in confusion. Unsure of what it was, she went straight for Charles Xavier. Entering his office, she placed the file on his desk. He looked down at it. "Her X-Gene. It's being suppressed... like her body is rejecting itself."

Charles looked down at the document, his eyes going blank as it stared at it. There was silence. Not a word in reaction for several moments. Jean didn't know what to make of it. But Charles did. He turned his head towards her; "I need to see her."

* * *​

There was a knock on the door. I looked towards it to see Jean again with Professor X. Sighing, but now calm, I nodded them - giving them permission to enter. It had suddenly dawned on me where we were. We were at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. It had been so many years, I barely recognized the facility.

Replacing my hand on yours, I reverted my body to lay back down again. I could barely focus, let alone think. "Professor X." I said, acknowledging that I knew him.

He smiled lightly at me as the two of them approached the other side of my bed. "Penelope." He returned, "It's been a long time." Without a word, I gave a weak smile and nodded slightly. He chuckled, but continued, "I wanted to come speak with you... Jean showed me some of your test results." His smile soon left his expression. His eyes turned to Bucky, and with a confident smile, he asked, "Could I have a minute alone with her, please?" He wouldn't say another word. He would just look at you, and wait until you left. Looking over to you, I nodded lightly, giving you permission to leave me alone with them. I watched as you exiting the door, and the doors slid close behind you.

"Your X-Gene is being suppressed." Professor X continued. "It's why you're healing is sporadic and no longer consistent."

Without even reacting to his diagnosis, I oddly looked down at my stomach. Noticing a mark on my upper torso, my hands quickly moved to feel it. I lifted my head to get a better look at the mark. It was a small spherical scar. “Bullet.” I whispered, but then became louder, “This is one of Mystique's bullets. It... It didn't heal properly.” I looked confused, “Why didn't it heal like the other tw-” Stopping myself mid-sentence, I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came from my lips. It took me a few seconds to finally spit it out. “The bullet was poisoned.” Sinking my head into the pillow, I stared at the ceiling. “Bitch poisoned me.”

Jean hesitated, “Poison? What kind of poison would suppress your X-Gene?” Before I could even answered you, she immediately came to the realization. Holding her head she muttered, “Oh my god... The Hope Serum.”

“No.” I shook my head. “This is worse.”

Professor X chimed in. “A vaccine, actually.” He corrected. “Erik... He's been working on a mutant vaccine since the release of the Hope Serum.” Jean looked confused, too. She had never heard of a vaccine for mutants, and if Charles had known about this for a long time, he certainly hadn't told even his closest friends and allies. “Magneto is trying to push humans into evolution; he wants to force mutants to evolve to their full potential.” Xavier nodded his head slowly. “There's a vaccine... I thought only myth....” Professor X mumbled, “... Though very much a reality.”

“What does it do?” Jean asked, concerned.

“Forces the body to accept or reject the Hope Serum.” He explained, “If your body accepts the vaccine, you become entirely immune to any sort of X-Gene suppressor, like the Hope Serum. Your mutation solidifies permanently, and in most cases, even strengthens and accelerates.”

Jean looked over to me nervously. “And if her body rejects it?”

“She will die.” As he spouted those words, I slowly lifted myself out of a laying position, and pushed my body into a up-right sitting position, yet again. Without responding, Professor X added, “You will get very ill and your X-Gene will eventually mutate into cancer. This process could take a week, a month, maybe even a year.”

I grunted, “Oh, lovely. Heightened powers, or death. I'm not sure which one's worse.” I had a joking tone, but my sarcasm was riddled with truth. My abilities were so torturous to begin with, I couldn't imagine having them any stronger. Death? Death sounded almost more enjoyable.

"Have faith." Jean said.

"And what?" I growled, "Wait around while I get sicker and sicker? No." I shook my head. "I won't just watch my body slowly kill itself." My feet met the floor once more. "We're leaving." Jean moved forward to stop me, but Charles shook his head - initiating her to let me go. As the doors slid open, I zoomed past you. "Let's go."
 
“I know, it's okay. Can't run away forever,” he offered with a light smile and kept his hand resting at the side of her face when she sat up. “I wasn't just going to leave you with these people. Not gonna leave you alone till you tell me to at this point,” he grinned. And he meant it. There was something growing between them and he didn't want to be alone anymore. He didn't want to have to live his life in silence and with nobody to mean anything. Penelope meant something now. She was a friend. Steve Rogers called himself his friend, but Bucky didn't know him. He didn't know Penelope either, not really. But he knew enough to know he wouldn't let anyone hurt her if he could help it.

He bowed his head and let his lips brush over hers. It felt different without his beard in the way, the way her chin brushed against his, it was nice. He'd make a point to be a bit better at the shaving part. It had never seemed to matter before. “I blame you for starting this,” he said lightly, his blue eyes sparkling with humour as his metal hand rested on the table by her hip and the hand against her head applied just a light pressure and his thumb traced along her cheekbone.

He straightened when there was a knock and watched the two enter. He didn't show any surprise, didn't show much of anything when she acknowledged knowing the man whom she'd referred to as 'Professor X'. He simply watched them, they didn't hurt her. They helped her. And him. But he didn't know if he actually trusted them yet.

When he requested Bucky leave the room Buck stood stock still, making no motion to move at all but his gaze flicked from the Professor to Penelope. And when she gave a nod he stepped back, letting his fingers linger on her for a moment before dropping his hand and walked out of the room. He stood by the door, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall and his head resting. Eyes focused on the wall across from him. This place was way too white. And clean he decided.

The words began and he listened. It was just as clear as though he were in the room with them. His posture became less casual as the conversation carried on. The news was worse than he'd expected. It left a knot in his stomach. He'd kicked her. If he'd just... not and given up then she wouldn't have been poisoned. Unless that was why they were there. But then, maybe they'd have taken the both of them and could have made it so instead of dying she'd get heightened powers.

Bucky's gaze became grim as his brain raced with the possibilities of how his actions should have been altered and what sort of outcome they may have resulted in and all of them were better than this one. But if they had the poison, then they had to have an antidote...

His head snapped up when she announced she was leaving and felt a bit of dread billowing in his stomach. He didn't know what he was supposed to do to protect her from this. How was he supposed to stop it? He had no clue where to go from here with this information. He wasn't supposed to know but... he did. And he couldn't just let her die.

But he knew she hated her power. She saw it as a curse more than a gift. And if it was heightened... would she even want to live?

When she zoomed past him he pushed himself off the wall and followed her. “I have my bag upstairs,” he said, not thinking it wise to tell her to stop. “And we should get you clothes. You're in a hospital gown,” he pointed out and hit the button for the elevator.

“Are you... are you sure we should leave? Do you know somebody who could help you?” he asked once the elevator doors shut and they were alone. “Serum and all of that... heightened senses. I couldn't help but overhear,” he said with a shake of his head. “C'mon,” he said and lead the way to the room they'd put him in and shut the door behind them. He stepped up to the bed and looked through the bag and frowned. “I don't have any clothes that'll fit you, but...” he nudged the bag over towards her. “If you find something that'll work it's all yours. Or you could just stay here, relax and think things over before you make a very rash decision and I'll go out and buy you some clothes and whatever you need,” he said and reached out to turn her so she was facing him.

“I don't know what you're going through right now but both options they gave you are shit. And leaving right now, probably isn't the best idea. Let them run a few tests on the poison... maybe there's a way they can stop it from heightening and stop it from killing you,” he said and set his hands on her shoulders. “Just a day? Maybe? No matter what you decide I'll go with you... but you're life is more important than a four second decision. Just... take a few hours? Please?”
 
Quick. Very quick. I was moving quickly, and you were following closely behind. My mind was in such a state of frenzy, still, that I hadn't even processed any other option other than to leave the facility immediately. As I stormed down the chilling hall, I stopped at the elevator. Hearing your words, I tried not to make it obvious, but I had pretty much forgotten I was still in a hospital gown. Other than my black lace underwear, I was pretty much naked under this blue sheet. I was also barefoot, and the floor was cold beneath me.

Disregarding the fact that I was practically in the nude, the moment of realization was interrupted by a light ding and the elevator doors open. Stepping inside, I leaned my back against the wall and tried not to become completely and utterly claustrophobic in that moment. I remained totally silent throughout the entire elevator wall. Even as you spoke to me, asked me questions, I could not even look at you. My eyes were glazed over, and all I could think about was my impending future. Where would we go from here? That was one hell of a good question... and I didn't know the answer.

As you admit that you overheard the conversation, my eyes finally break free from the changing number lights on the screen. Looking up at you, concerned, I parted my lips to speak to you. No words. I had no words. I didn't want you to know. If you hadn't heard, I probably wouldn't have even told you. Looking to you, I could feel it. I could feel, without even having to touch you, that you were riddled with guilt. Although I had no skin-to-skin contact with you at the moment, the bond between the two of us was already established, and I could feed into your memories, and your mind. You were thinking about that moment you kicked me. The moment I was thrown forward and Mystique shot me three times. I became deeply saddened. Saddened that you felt that way, and that you were reliving those memories in your mind as I looked at you. I couldn't look at you any more. And even in this dire moment, I couldn't shed a single word.

The doors to the elevator opened, and I rushed out of it. I moved fast down the new floor's hallway. Passing a young boy - a student with his face buried in his iPhone as he texted – I plucked the device right from his clammy little fingers and tapped his forehead. Before the boy could react or fight me, the touch on his head sent him into a state of hypnosis; making him forget what he was doing. As I walked away with his phone, he looked around confused about his whereabouts. He continued down the hallways, phoneless, without even realizing what had just happened. Meanwhile, I used his phone to send a text out. After it successfully sent, I deleted the message and any trace of it. Turning to you as you opened the door to your room, I followed you in and insured the door closed behind me. “Can you crush this, please?” I placed the phone directly in your bionic hand. “Thank you.” I assured, without even waiting for a response. I just expected you to listen to me.

I listened to you as you continued to speak to me, and beg me to stay. I listened, but it didn't seem like I was listening. I wasn't looking at you; unable to look you in the eyes. All I did was snatch the bag from your grip, and shuffle through the belongings before becoming slightly frustrated. I pushed the bag away after grabbing a random t-shirt. As you pleaded with me for more tests, I just turned around from you. Not bothering to go to the washroom, I tore the gown right off my body. I was exposed in front of you, though my back was facing you. Nearly naked, but the one item, underwear, that barely covered my butt, my bare back was revealed to you. It was covered in big scar that ran all the way down my spine. The sight would only last a second, as I tossed the t-shirt over my head and let it fall on my like a dress.

“I don't need help, James... I need a miracle.” Defeated, I turned to you. “I don't need a doctor, I need a priest.” Despite the modern world of anti-religion, I was still close to my Christian faith. Looking deeply into your eyes, my voice reduced to a whisper. “This is not your fault.” Taking your hand in mine, I squeezed it gently. “I can see the guilt in your eyes. I can feel the regret... but this is not you...” I shook my head softly, to reassure my soft and trembling words. “If this was their plan, Mystique would have shot me anyways.” I wanted to kiss you again. My body leaned in as if to do so, but I stopped. Turning away, I let go of your hand. “There will be a car here in 5 minutes. It'll take you to the airport where you'll fly and escape to Romania...” I paused, my hand clutching onto the door handle as I waited to open it. “...Without me.”
 
The phone she handed him was crushed before she said thank you, he did it without thinking and tossed the broken metal into the garbage can as she looked through the bag. Bucky'd noticed the scar along her spine while they'd walked but now as she stood in the room in just her underwear he really couldn't help but let his eyes move across the pale flesh of her body. He swallowed and turned his gaze away as his t-shirt covered the sight and let out a sigh.

“Don't miracles and priests fall on faith?” he asked, his eyes moving from the random spot on the corner of the bed they'd rested on to go back to her. He let her take his hand and he let her speak. “And telling me not to feel regret is not going to get rid of that feeling,” he pointed out, shaking his head. “Whether they came to shoot you with that poison is not relevant. It happened and I was a pawn in the actions which led up to it,” he said, his voice softening as she leaned her body closer to his then blinked when she was suddenly turning away and let go of his hand.

He scoffed at her words, reaching out and putting his hand against the door so even if she wanted to open it he wouldn't let her. “I am not leaving you. I said I'd follow you whatever you want to do but I just think you should take the time to see what the professor guy can offer. There's not guarantee what they said is the final diagnosis. They did one test, there is no way they know what they're talking with one, single test. And the guy said he only thought it was a myth. Just... stay. And if you stay I'm staying,” he said and leaned against the door and gazed down at her.

“You're the only person I know in this whole world right now. The only human being I want to be around is you. Because I like you. And I'm not just going to turn around and abandon you. Not now. Even if you tell me too. I'm not very good at following orders anymore,” he stated and moved himself closer to her. “Plus, you've got my shirt on. And I really like that shirt,” he mumbled and reached down to touch the hem of the shirt, his fingers brushing against her thigh as he did.

“Even if it looks a lot better on you than it does on me,” he said and pressed his lips against hers. His body moved on pure instinct, his bionic hand pulling her hand from the handle and lifting it to his shoulder while both hands moved to the back of her thighs and he lifted her from the ground and manoeuvred himself between her legs as he pushed her against the wall with his body.

His hands slid up her thighs as he used his body to keep her there and let his fingers brush against her ass, he'd been resisting the urge to touch her since she walked passed him in nothing but her lace underwear and hospital gown. Even with the news of what was going on to her in the back of his mind, touching her was just... so intoxicating. His lips left her to move across her jaw then down her neck. “Still want me to go?” He asked with a smirk against her skin.
 
No matter how much you tried to pep talk me, convince me, and talk me out of abandon this whole arrangement, I was adamant on my departure. Ignoring virtually every word you said to plead with me, I went for the door anyways. My hand gripped the handle, and I moved to open the door and leave, but found I couldn't open it. My eyes moved to your bionic hand, holding the door shut and eliminating any possibility for me to run away. That's what this was all about after all. I was running away from reality. It was the only thing I knew how to do; it was a defense mechanism I used to protect myself and others around me.

Realizing I couldn't fight the force of your superhuman strength, I turned to finally face you. My once determined eyes turned to a light frown. You're the only person I know in this whole world right now. The only human being I want to be around is you. With those words, how could I try to fight you? You were completely attached to me by this point, and I would be lying to myself if I didn't admit I felt the same way, too. But this reality, these feelings, they frightened me. All those who had become attached to me in the past would die at my hands. “Bucky... I-” I tried to get a word in, but you just continued – determined to keep me from abandoning you.

Flipping the conversation to focus on your t-shirt, my frown quickly turned into a weak smile. The more you tried, the more you were succeeded in shutting me up and changing my mind. My weak smile becoming stronger, and brighter as the space between us closed in. I was trapped between your body and the door, with your hand firmly on the door by my head. Who was I kidding? I wasn't going anywhere.

By the time you brushed my thigh, and pushed your lips against mine, I was completely smitten. Moving my body with yours, my legs wrapped tightly around your waist, and my arms moved over your shoulders to cup the back of your head in my hands. I kept my mouth pressed firmly on yours, I parted my lips to deepen the kiss; twirling my tongue against yours.

When you broke the kiss to trail down my neck, I gave a trembling exhale. “Uhm...”. Quite frankly, I was too aroused to think clearly and respond. My heart beating and my breath short, I luckily didn't need to say anymore.

There was a loud knock on the door. Startling me into reality, "Uh-" I said as I snapped out of it. "...Yes?"

"There's some suped up piece of machinery outside of the front doors. Looks like a car." It was Wolverine, and he didn't sound impressed, no annoyed. "If you're planning on moving in, the car goes in the garage... You need to move it."

Clearing my throat, my legs unhinged from your waist and I dropped to my feet. I trailed my hands from your neck to your chest, and let them rest there. Smiling and looking at you as I responded to Logan, "Uhm, yeah of course. I'll move it, thanks." Logan looked at the door weirdly, waiting a moment for it to open, but then abandoning the idea and walking away. I started to chuckle lightly. Slipping my hands down your arms to your wrists, I lightly pulled your hands from my body. "Come."

I gave you a charming look; slithering my body from out of entrapment. Moving over to the bed, I closed your bag, and tossed it across the room over to you. "Let's go for a drive." With a charming smile, I moved past you and opened the door. Leading to the front of the mansion, I walked right past Professor X and Jean. Jean looked confused and looked over to Charles. Charles raised his hand slightly, signalling to her that it was OK, and to let us leave. Without a single word, I left the facility with you. The car waiting for us was unlike anything most had seen. It was a supercar, the Lambo Veneno, modified to be more than just a car, but an super computer, and a weapon. As I approached the car, I spoke in Romanian. The vehicle was even voice activated. The engine roared to life, and the doors unlocked. I walk over to the driver's side, but before getting in the car, I paused, leaning my front over the car to look at you. I had a puzzling look on my face. "How about..." I moved away from the driver's side, and made my way over to the passenger's seat. "You drive."
 
At the knock on the door Bucky dropped his head forward, his forehead resting against the wall he had Penelope pinned against as he listened to the exchange and for a moment, wished he'd killed the man with the metal claws. When she loosened her legs from around his waist he slid his hands to her waist and let his fingers linger there for a few moments until her hands took his wrists and pulled his fingers away from her skin. He resisted the urge to complain and instead just watched as she went to the bed and closed the bag then tossed it over to him.

“A drive sounds so much less appealing than kissing and touching you,” he sighed, a slight whine to his tone, and stepped aside as she opened the door and followed her out. When he saw the professor and Jean he glanced between the back of Penelope's head and the other two. When he was passing them he paused. “Thank you for all your help,” he offered quickly before following her down to the main floor and out of the front door.

He paused when he saw the car and tilted his head. Logan's words were right. It was a piece of suped up machinery which looked like a car. When she paused and leaned over the car Buck raised an eyebrow at the curious look on her face then gave a nod of his head. “Alright,” he agreed when she said he should drive and walked around the car and to the driver's side. He opened the door and climbed into the vehicle and slid onto the seat.

Bucky set his bag behind them and glanced over at her then put the car in gear. “Alright, so where are we going anyway?” He asked, as he drove away from the grounds of the school and came up to a gate, it opened automatically and he turned onto the road, heading towards the city. “If anything we can get you some clothes,” he said, glancing at her. “No matter how good you look in my shirt I don't exactly like the idea of everybody getting to see you in it,” he said with a bit of a smirk and continued to drive, going 20 over the speed limit.

“Besides clothes, I'm not sure about you but I could go for some food,” he said with a light smile as he moved them closer to the city. Getting closer to the city caused a sense of unease but he also had to get over it. It was a city, a city close to his past linking him to a multitude of memories just waiting to be unlocked.

And people from his past. People looking for him. Hydra. It was one of the most densely populated cities in the world, there'd be cameras and CCTV and eyes everywhere. But he had to face this sooner or later. He'd been on the run for so long, it was hard to finally stop.
 
Sitting in the car, the computer in the vehicle came to life. A screen from the front dash rose up and turned on. “Voice activation required.” A male voice announced to me. Without flinching, I kept a straight face. In a different language, I uttered an old Romani proverb. I wasn't even speaking Romanian, but a variant of the language from the Roma people. A language that had long died in America. The computer processed the sentence. “Welcome, Fee-Fee.”

Nodding lightly at the computer, I didn't blink an eye as I continued to speak to it like it was a person. As you asked me where we were going, I turned my head to look at you. “Ferka, we're going home.” I smiled lightly at you. My eyes quickly trailed back at the screen, which now lit up as a map of the city and surrounding area.

Suddenly, the map was filled with red dots, and Ferka blurted, “Located – 216 authorized police vehicles. Preparing route. Calculating.” A short second later, the map turned into a GPS system, mapping out the best route that would avoid virtually all police. It was a bit of a detour, but it would keep us out of sight.

“Thank you, Ferka.” Glancing over to you, “Engage auto-pilot.”

Your seat began to move back – too far for you to reach any controls. The wheel began to move with a mind of it's own. “Auto-pilot active.” The vehicle was driving itself. It was quite a complicated route, and it would be easier for the car to just maneuver its way through the busy city streets without being detected.

Not wanting to make you feel left out, I chuckled lightly. “You can relax.” I took your hand in mine, placing our entwined fingers on my lap. “He will do the work.” I gave a reassuring nod.” Just as I opened my mouth to speak again, the car began to ring. The screen diverted from a map-menu and to the symbol of a phone. Stark Industries was the name on the caller ID. Looking confused, I called out. “Accept call.” Turning to you, I put my index finger over my lips, to suggest that you needed to stay quiet, and keep your mouth shut.

A face appeared on the screen, it was the face of Tony Stark, the infamous Iron Man. Although we could see him, as he was in his computer-ridden lair, he however could not see us. This car was fully loaded, but not with a web-cam of any sort. “Phoenix!” Stark exclaimed, “Where in the fuck... have you been?” He laughed lightly, his voice filled with joy, not with anger. “You've been M.I.A. for like 4 weeks!”

In the background, a feminine voice could be heard. “Is that Penelope?” It was Pepper.

“Hi, Pepper!” I chuckled, “And you too, Stark.”

He grunted. “Ferka's been inactive for over 6 weeks. We were starting to worry?”

“You? Worried?” I smiled, stating sarcastically. “Pepper, he's taking credit for all your hard work, again.”

Pepper scoffed, laughing. “I know! Classic!”

“I've been working.” I said, keeping it extremely vague.

Stark bit into an apple obnoxiously. “Uh-huh.” He said, not buying any of it. “What happened to laying off missions for a while, huh?” He criticized, but it was all in a friendly manner. His direction to a quick turn when he took another bite in his apple and came to a realization. “You didn't go after that Bucky kid, did you?” Stark was suspiciously smart. Too smart. Either he had remarkably good intuition, or he had spoken to Natasha recently. Sinking into the seat, I shook my head slightly, wondering which answer would put you at the least risk. He took my silence as a yes, “It's a suicide mission. What compelled you to be so stupid?”

Rolling my eyes, I cleared my throat. “This wasn't a mission. This one was personal.” My eyes moved to you, briefly, before focusing back on the screen. “It doesn't matter, anyways.”

He crunched into the apple again, slurping as he did so. “Uh-huh.” He stated again, not buying any of my vague answers. “Well you're alive, which means you failed...” Ah, Stark. Always so utterly arrogant.

Pepper chimed in, “Tony...” You could hear it in her voice, she was reprimanding her husband. “I'm just relieved to hear your voice.” She was much, much sweeter and more sentimental than Stark was.

Turning to complete lies, I looked over to you again. I would protect you, and this was my own burden to bear. Until the day I died, I would shield you from the world until you told me otherwise. “Just hit a bunch of dead ends.” I confirmed his cocky theory. “By the time I made it to Estonia, he was already long gone. One step ahead of me.”

Crunching into the apple again, Tony went to talk but was intercepted by Pepper. “Well, you're back just in time for the Gala!”

“The what?” I cocked my head forward, my eyes widening as I remembered just what she was talking about. A wave of panic washed over me as I leaned my head back against the head rest. “Shit,” I whispered under my breath as my hand wiped over my face. Staring out the window, I swore silently under my breath. In the mess of things, I had completely forgotten about it. A part of me assumed it would have been canceled post aftermath of the fall of SHIELD, but that didn't seem to be the case. SHIELD was still very much alive, one way or the other, and the Avengers was one of them. I fell silent, not knowing what to do in that moment.

“... The Avengers Gala...” Tony piped up, “You know, the one you never attend.”

Pepper added, “Also the one you promised Natasha you'd come to this year!” She continued, "Plus, she's been trying to secretly set you up with Steve for months now."

My eyes widened at that fact. Dear God, I thought to myself. Smiling weakly at you, I couldn't help but begin to chuckle nervously. "Hahaha!" I laughed sarcastically, the sort of 'kill me' laugh at something that no one looks ever forward to. "Yeah... No."

Sloshing through the apple once again, Pepper lightly smacked Tony's chest. "Disgusting!" She looked at him like he was a child, and as if she was a mother trying to teach him some manners.

"What!? It's an apple, Pepper. How am I supposed to eat an apple? DRINK it?" Pepper walked away from him, and he followed her out of the room. Within a couple of seconds, the two were out of camera's reach.

Impatient, and in a bit of a panic, I reached over to the screen and declined the on-going call. The phone hung up, and the screen reverted back to the map of the road. Exhaling nervously, I looked over to you and bit my lip. "Fuck..."
 
“Fee-Fee?” he asked with a grin and turned his head to look at her. “Bu-” he got cut off as the seat began to move back. “I liked driving this thing. I like driving in general,” he said and laid his head back as he figured he didn't have anything else he really had to do. When she took his hand he visibly relaxed a little more and let his fingers brush over the skin of her thigh as she rested their hands on her lap.

During the call his face remained stoic, listening but not letting the words be thought of too much. He didn't know if what she was saying truth or if it was just to cover her ass from her friend. He was surprised she was such close friends with Tony Stark. He'd heard of the multibillionaire though his research on Steve.

When Pepper mentioned Penelope being set up with Steve he couldn't help but turn his head towards her and smirked playfully as she smiled weakly at him then the nervous laugh. Then the call was ended and he arched a brow, leaning back in his seat a bit and giving her hand a light squeeze. “You and Steve huh?” he asked, his smirk growing into a grin with a teasing twinkle in his eye.

He hadn't expected her to live here though, to have a place to call home. He hadn't known really what to expect and realized he knew pretty much nothing about her. And she wasn't like him in the sense he'd spend so long being nobody, just weapon. She'd created a life for herself. She'd been someone for a long time. He was just creating a life for himself and he hoped she did want him involved in hers.

“Maybe we should go to the gala,” he said after a few moments and gave her a smile. “I mean, if everyone will be there and it's a fairly controlled situation then nobody would be stupid enough to try and attack,” he reasoned, resting his head against the headrest, his gaze remaining locked on hers.

“And I have a feeling you'll be a total knockout in a dress,” he said with another grin then leaned over and pressed his lips against hers. “And they seem to miss you. You should get some time to see your friends without having to worry about all the other bullshit in the world.”
 
“Black Widow is in for a surprise,” I chuckled lightly, “The only conversation I've had with Steve has been about you.” I shrugged, “I've never been interested in Captain Fan-tabulous America. A knight in shining armor is a man who's never had his metal truly tested.” Looking over to you, I gave a charming smile. “Plus...” I ran my hand over your metal arm. “You're literally made of metal.” Trickling my fingers down, almost seductively, I couldn't resist a kiss.

When you suggested we go to the Gala, my eyes widened slightly and my head cocked back. “Go?” I asked surprised, gazing to you for further answers. “I'm not worried about an attack, I'm worried about you. You do realize Steve will be there, and so will many people who despise you... Who don't understand.” I seemed to be panicking more about this inside than you were.

Shaking my head, “I.. I think it's a bad idea.” Who was I really afraid for? Yourself? Or was this really just a subconscious fear for myself. “I've crossed a lot of people, as have you.” I said nervously, but then sighed. Turning my gaze back at you, I swallowed roughly. “Natasha - she's been trying to get my file cleared with SHIELD. And it almost worked but...” My eyes fell down to your metal arm. For a moment, I lost myself in my thoughts. I was an enemy of the State. “... but I fucked up. I've hurt too many people; things I can't take back, nor apologize for.”

Breaking out of those thoughts, I looked back to you. My light hazel eyes seemed to begin to water, but I quickly blinked out any emotion and concealed my feelings. Turning my focus back to you, I squeezed your hand gently. “I lost my chance; I don't want to jeopardize yours. ”
 
As much as Bucky wanted to just put her hand on his arm again and pretend the idea of going to the gala hadn't crossed his mind he couldn't. It would open up a whole new world for him to have to adjust too but why wait? He didn't know what was going to happen and he couldn't hide forever. There was no way he keep running and never have someone catch up.

“I don't think Tony or Pepper would invite you to that gala or want you to come if there was a chance of those people hurting you,” he reasoned, suddenly a lot less concerned about what this would entail for him. He reached over and brushed his thumb across her lower lip. “You were an enemy of the State. No anymore. Past tense,” he pointed out. Though he didn't know the specifics of what had happened nor how or even if she was completely cleared but she had used past tense. “People fuck up Penelope. We all hurt and get hurt and if those people can't get over then fuck them,” he said with a bit of a smirk. “It's their loss not getting to know you.”

“My chance is... I don't care about my chance. I'm not looking for redemption for what I've done. The things I've done, the people I've hurt are dead. I need to come to terms with that on my own. I need to learn to forgive myself before I can worry about anybody else,” he sighed and raked his fingers through his long hair quickly. “Maybe it'll be fun. And they really seem to want you there,” he pointed out. Because both Tony and Pepper did seem to be excited by her presence in New York and the possibility of her going to the gala.

He tilted his head, watching her closely for a moment, silent. “Don't do that. Don't hide your feelings. You say you couldn't feel anything but you hide it. Don't do that,” he said quietly, blue eyes searching hers. “You don't have to hide from me Fee-Fee,” he said, using the newly found nickname to lighten the heavy discussion.

“And if we don't go to the gala...” A somewhat playful smirk slipped onto his face. “I do hope I get to see you in a little black dress someday,” he said and gave her hand another squeeze.
 
“I'm not afraid of being hurt, Bucky...” My voice was soft; almost a whisper. “I'm afraid of seeing the hurt I caused in others.” Feeling rather sad of the circumstances, I kept my head down, looking at our hands entwined on my lap. As your hand met my face, and your thumb to my lips, I lifted my head to look at you. As your grazed my lower lip, I smiled. It was a weak smile, but it was nevertheless genuine. My mind was loaded with too many thoughts, and it momentarily hindered my ability to function. Your words were so kind; so considerate. After everything you had been through, you were still such a breath of fresh air.

Still, my mind was bombarded with memories – memories of those whom I had tortured in the past. I tried to snap out of it, but I was lost. In that moment, I was a ghost in the car seat. My eyes wandering my bare feet as I tried to sort through all the chaos in my conscious mind. I had always been a tortured soul, and I always would be. But I had grown to control it – to keep the hurt at bay, but with you... it was different. You reminded me so much of myself that I became vulnerable in your presence; unable to shuffle through the all the crap twirling in my head. But then I heard a familiar name- Fefe.

My head perked up and I looked at you with surprised eyes. You were much more perceptive then I ever gave you credit for. My frown grew into a warm smile. I normally would have yelled at anyone for calling me that, but out of your mouth, it sounded so soothing; like a lullaby. I never wanted you to call me anything else. “My mother used to call me that.” I smiled some more, spreading your hand open with my fingers and drawing on your palm softly. “Fefe the Fighter.” I laughed lightly, “Because I was stubborn as shit. And I never backed down from a challenge. I was determined, even as a young child.”

“Mmm.” I let out a soothed moan as I thought about my family. “Let's do it.” I changed conversations suddenly. “Let's do this. Let's show up at the Gala and shock the hell out of everybody.” I chuckled, becoming more and more enthusiastic about the idea as the seconds went on. Propping up in the seat, I turned to you. “We're doing this!” I grabbed you face and cupped your neck with one hand and forced an abrupt kiss on your lips. Parting my mouth from yours, my smile was beaming. Our faces just an inch apart, I kissed you again. "You're going to get more than a little black dress."
 
He truly had no idea what to say about not wanting to see the hurt she caused to others. He was sure she had. He had. He just tried to convince himself he didn't care because he couldn't care. Not yet. There was only so many things he could handle. There was only so many things she could handle. And while she had done things in her past, perhaps some things which were horrible and despicable but they were in her past. Same as his were in his past.

He wanted to tell her it would be okay. The past was the past and while it couldn't be changed there was no use in hanging onto it. But it was bullshit. It was just words. But when he slept he saw the faces of all the people he'd killed. And he woke hating himself just a little bit more. He was trying harder to get over it. Guilt was a fucked up emotion. He hadn't consciously hurt people. He was sure she hadn't enjoyed doing what she did and even if she did it wasn't who she was now. Everyone had a chance at redemption. It was something he had to believe.

Bucky dropped his head to the side, watching her as she drew along his palm. “That truly doesn't surprise me. You can't be as stubborn as you are and it started later in life,” he teased quietly, watching her with a fondness he'd never expressed before. Not like this. “You were stubborn enough to keep trying to find me and I know I didn't leave a trail. And even I did, the connections weren't there,” he smiled, knowing she'd had to have used her powers to one degree or another.

“Do what?” He asked at the sudden announcement and let himself grin at her decision to go to the Gala. “It will truly shock a lot of people,” he agreed, smiling brightly at her. It set off a new wave of nerves though, but it would result in a weight off of his shoulders. Steve was the one who pulled him from Hydra's grasp. He'd thought of him often on the run. Soon he'd face the man and be able to talk to him, figure out some things about himself from his past. Maybe it would be good in the end.

Bucky was pulled from his thoughts when her hand was cupping his neck and then her lips were on his. He was enjoying being able to touch and be touched the way her and him were able to be now. “I didn't think, when I was running, I'd ever end up with anyone like you. I mean, someone who I wanna be around and touch and who seems to feel the same.”

He returned the second kiss then bit his bottom lip at the mention of getting more than a little black dress. “Something more than a little black dress... I'm going to hold you to that,” he smirked and turned the hand on her lap so he could rest his palm against her thigh and moved his fingers lightly against her skin. “We're almost at you place,” he said and glanced at the GPS showing the moving blip nearing the final destination. “I'm going to need a suit for tonight. I have a feeling the Gala isn't a place to wear jeans and holey shirt.”
 
I smiled at your kind, romantic words. “Mm.” A hum was the only sound to escape my lips. I was at a loss for words. “Stanki nashti chi arakenpe manushen shai.” Speaking in a different language, my eyes gazed at you. It was the Romani language, nearly lost and forgotten in a modern system like America. I translated, “Mountains do not meet, but people do.” I grazed my fingers from your palm, up your arms lightly. “I never really understood it as a child, but I think now... it means fate. Mountains cannot move, they are static. But people; people are diverse, ever-moving. Life is unpredictable.”

Ferka came to life. “Arriving.” The building the vehicle turned into was, evidently in the heart of New York, a giant glass-based skyscraper. It was a building that hosted a number of high-end condominiums. Rather than pulling up at the front of the building, Ferka took us around to the side and down a tight alleyway between buildings. The alleyway lead to a hidden garage door. As the car approached, the garage door pulled open automatically. It lead to an private garage space; not the usual commonly shared underground parking lot. The space was big, almost the size of an apartment itself, and hosted a number of classic cars and a pair of motorcycles. One speed bike – the Honda CBR300RA, and the other a Harley Davidson Iron 833. The cars were not as extravagant as the Lamborghini, but they were respectable. A classic 1970 Boss 302 Ford Mustang, and beside it, it's modern counterpart – the 2013 Ford Mustand GT. Then off to the right, randomly, was a SUV – the Acura MDX.

“Oh, no. This is a high-end event. Hosted by the one and only, Tony Stark; multi-billionaire extravagant. Black-tie; the most formal you can get. Picture a celebrity movie premiere, but with billionaires.” Sighing slightly at the thought, I smiled as we entered the garage and the door closed behind us. Ferka parked himself beside the classic 1970 Mustang. "Welcome to my crib, yo!" I said in an awful, joking gangster accent. Realizing I should never attempt that sort of humor again, I gave an embarrassed smile and exited the vehicle.

Off by the side, where the Acura was stationed, was an elevator. Letting you gaze at the area I called my man cave, I chuckled lightly. "I have weird hobbies. Including a grave enthusiasm for cars." Going up to the elevator, I stood in front of a identification pad. Placing both my right hand on the pad, and my face in front of a camera, a blue laser opened up from the camera and made an dotted map on my face. It zoomed in on my pupil, then flashed. Access granted. The elevator door opened. "Common." I leaned forward to grab your bionic hand and pull you into the elevator. "I think I've got something that might fit you."
 
Bucky was happy. Sitting in the car with Penelope, his hand on the soft flesh of her thigh and with her eyes on him, the way she looked at him. He'd decided he was done running but he would be so content to just stay there with her. “Fate. Everything considered, I can get on that ride,” he chuckled quietly.

As the car announced they were arriving he tilted his head to look at the world Penelope was used to. He arched a brow and glanced at her then looked down the alleyway the car was taking them down. “I feel like I'm over-reaching in my attraction to you,” he commented, amazing at the style and location of her building. It was hard to imagine wanting to leave New York if she had an apartment in a building like this. It was probably breathtaking.

And then they were in the garage and his appreciation for her grew a little more. Everything that had happened today was sitting at the back of his mind but right now. He almost wanted to propose to her when he saw the motorcycles and the Mustangs. Despite everything he'd been through, Penelope was beautiful, inside and out, lived in an amazing looking building and had an amazing taste in cars. She was so far out of his league right now.

Her horrible gangster accent threw him for a loop and he just watched her climb out of the car for a moment before following her. He ran his fingers over the Harley as he walked past the bike and smiled at her words. “No. Not a weird hobby. It's amazing, they're amazing. You are,” he commented and looked at the bike then saw her at the elevator and wandered over before she could leave him behind.

A cheshire smirk spread onto his lips as she pulled him into the elevator and said she had something which may fit him. “Mmmm, that is very curious. Should I be jealous you have a suit up there?” he asked with a grin and turn so he was facing her and lifted his bionic hand to he could press a kiss to the back of her hand.

His eyes never left her face and he raised their hands, his flesh hand taking her other one and raised it over her head to rest beside the other. “You're so beautiful,” he said and looked over her face before dipping his head and capturing her lips in a slow, lazy kiss. He let go of her hands and trailed his fingers down her arms then slid his arms around her and smiled against her lips.

“I need to get some of this out before tonight,” he said and nuzzled his nose against hers. “Or else I won't be able to keep my hands off of you,” his lips were on hers again and he pushed her a little more firmly against the wall of the elevator.
 
When you called me amazing, I was taken off guard. After pulling my hand and face from the sensors, I looked over to you and gave a warm smile. I had no words to describe the way you made me feel, particularly how I felt in that moment. Watching you gaze in awe at a fraction of my collection of vehicles, I couldn't help to appreciate the moment. Boys and their toys. I found myself leaning against the wall, my eyes slightly crossed; just enjoying the moment. But as you looked over to me again, I acted as if I wasn't staring at you blissfully. I propped myself up, cleared my throat, and snatched oyu into the elevator.

“Mmmm.” I smirked charmingly, “Maybe you should be jealous.” I teased. When you pinned my arms above my head, I laughed lightly. “Oh...” My eyes gazed down at you. I blatantly checked you out – shifting my eyes up and down to take in your intimidating form. As you complimented me, my smirk melted off of my face. I looked surprised, as if I had never been told that before in my life. I was speechless, but my silence was quickly interrupted by the feeling of your lips.

A big smile boomed across my lips as I tried to resist the urge to just rip off your clothes right here and now. I deepened the kiss, pushing my mouth harder against yours as my back arched. Without even realizing, I pushed my hips forward against yours. Arms around your neck like a teenager at prom, I grinded my body lightly against yours and moaned against your lips.

Just as I nearly threw myself onto you... DING. The elevator doors opened. My body stopped. Halting all acting, I laughed against your lips. “I might just make you wait.” I whispered seductively in you ear. Nibbling on your lobe, I tore away from you suddenly – not even given you a chance to make a move. With your hand still in mine, I pulled you hard right out of the elevator and into my lavish, multi-floored penthouse.

"Don't laugh." I teased myself, "I have a very... uh... eclectic style." Taking a few steps forward, further into the living area. There was an arrangement of couches. In front of them was a white brick wall, with a fireplace and a flat-screen TV over it. To the sides were bookcases filled to the brim with both new and old books. Off to the corner, by the windows, was an antique grand piano, and next to it, was an antique 40s Indian military motorcycle. It was in poor, rusted condition. Rather than restoring, I turned it into decor. It was a classic statement of U.S. in Second World War.

As you were stationed behind me, I pulled your arm over my shoulder. "Let me give you a tour." I glanced at you over my shoulder and smiled. "Living room." I waved over to the area we were already in. Pulled you towards the stairs, but rather than taking you up them, I took you to the around them. The first floor was all open-concept and connected. As I lead you past the stairs, we walked automatically into the dinning room. I flicked the switch, and the chandelier lit up. "For all of my guests... Careful." I stopped you in your tracks, "You might get trampled by all the people flocking to my apartment." I was being completely sarcastic, joking about my lack of guests. "Just down the hall is the kitchen." Moving past the table, just a few meters away was the cooking area. The kitchen was much less eclectic, and more modern-chic. A glossy finish to all of the black granite counter-tops and sleek cabinets. The island was complete with modern bar stools, and a touch of greenery with the vase. "Not that I ever really cook in here..." I chuckled nervously, but frowned lightly. Clearing my throat, I tried to defend myself, "Well, I'm never really home, much, anyways." I gave you a half smile, but it was weak, and not genuine. I didn't step into the kitchen, as if I was afraid.

Quickly wanting to move on, I tugged you from the smaller kitchen space and lead you towards the stairs. Stepping up the stairs, my aura became slowly uplifted. I seemed proud of my establishment, though I was never really able to enjoy it. The second floor was less of a floor, and more of an in-between balcony. "On the left is the bathroom. The rest of the floor is just decoration." Smiling lightly, I tugged you towards the second set of curved stairs. The second set led to the final upstairs floor. It had a small seating area with a couple of couches, but no TV. There was big double-door, and down a narrow hallway, there was smaller, single door that was shut, and locked. Ignoring that it existed, I lead you straight for the double doors. "And here..." I let go of you. Using both my hands, one on each door handle, I pushed open the doors. "... Is the master bedroom." When the doors opened, it revealed first hand a big aquarium built into the wall, with a balcony over it. In front of the fish tank was a spinning pole. To the right of the entrance was the a king size bed and the best view of the city skyline.

Noticing the pole, which I had almost forgotten about, I gave a pompous, proud smile. "I, uh... I like to dance. It relaxes me." Walking towards the pole, I circled it, lightly grazing my index finger across it. "Would you..." I had a feral look in my eyes. "...like to see?"
 
When her hips came forward against his, he returned the motion. His body acting on instinct now. He remembered sex. Vaguely. The motions, the sounds, and the general emotions and desperation behind it. Up until this moment, he couldn't remember the actual feeling of being aroused. Even in the train car his body hadn't anticipated more, now though, now his pants grew tighter and the feeling of her hips against his sent odd tingles of pleasure he couldn't remember feeling before. Just as he was about to admit how much he didn't remember about the act of sex and or being with a woman on a more intimate level including second base, the elevator dinged and she was pulling back. “Good things come to those who wait,” he smirked in reply to her seductive whisper and nibble on his ear lobe. Though the nibble did cause his hardening cock to twitch.

He nearly stumbled when he saw the penthouse. “Wow,” he mumbled, his eyes shifted quickly around the lavish penthouse. Part of his psyche was looking for weak spots, places Hydra could attack to have them cornered. The best places to find impromptu weapons certain vantage points for hand to hand combat. Then his eyes landed on the motorcycle by the grand piano and his gaze locked on it. It... he remembered it. From before...

He could smell it. The exhaust from the engine, bullets and the engine being pushed to it's limit and then some. Her voice pulled him from falling into a memory and he turned his gaze back to her and gave a slight nod of his head. “Yes. I'd love a tour,” he returned her smile and held a hand out. “Living room,” he repeated before following her into the dinning room. “Perhaps you'll have to invite Tony and Pepper over. And Steve. You know, then he won't have to squirm his way around asking for coffee to get up here,” he smirked, teasing as he stepped closer to her and rested his hand on her back.

Once they reached the kitchen his hand slid to her hip, feeling the shift in her mood. He glanced back at the kitchen as she tugged him away but didn't push the issue. They had an evening of... something, hopefully fun, to look forward too. And he wasn't going to ruin it by pushing into her life. Not yet. He was curious. And he wanted to know what bothered her and hopefully help her move through it if he could. And if she was willing to accept his help.

Buck followed her, slipping his hand from her hip as they headed up the stairs and when they made it to the bedroom his eyes snapped the pole and his eyebrows shot up with curiosity but he kept his mouth shut about it as he followed her in. Then she was speaking his words literally choked out of him and he stared at her for a moment, his mouth slightly open then looked to the pole and gave a slow nod of his head. “Uh huh,” he said with a slow nod. He glanced around quickly and since the bed was the best seating option with the best view of the pole he slid across the room and took a seat.

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and his hands entwined in front him as his eyes remained glued to her. If this was a taste of what her home had to offer, then perhaps the Gala wouldn't be happening. He wouldn't mind just sitting in there alone with here, even if it was to only talk and be amongst each other's company. But right now she'd offered him a dance and he wasn't going to miss a split second of it.
 
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