viuva | ⧗ 𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫-𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝

[ she pours the alcohol into the mug of her gracious host until it's about halfway — the man can drink, anyway. ]

You'll get sick of me.

[ yelena shoots him a toothy grin, despite her threat. she is much less shy on that front; she's not afraid to show her contentment, however she does appreciate that bucky is stingy when it comes to giving those smirks of his away.

his smile is the kind that could break a heart, and she wonders if he's broken many in his lifetime. or before his time as the winter soldier. not exactly something she wants to bring up right now, as she saunters over to him with her drink in hand and his in the other. she holds it up for him to take, totally not because she's hoping for their fingers to brush or anything!! ]

What happens after I take the apron then? [ she's pushing him a little further, she knows. ] Will I have to start leaving random jewelry and mismatched socks?

Random jewelry. Mismatched socks. Really tacky combat knives. Spare ammunition.

[ bucky is bemused, his voice warm as he takes his glass back — and, yes, his knuckles brush against hers as he retrieves the drink, and takes another deep swig. it never really does anything for him, doesn't make a dent in that supersoldier metabolism, but he keeps drinking anyway in the hopes of loosening himself up further, unraveling that tight knot of tension in his chest. the one that makes it feel like he's walking on a tightrope, never really knowing what to expect from her — being self-aware of his words and actions, and caring about how what someone thinks of him, for the first time in ages.

attraction has been such a foreign concept for so long, a long-dead and unfamiliar idea. experiencing it again is both good and horrible; a peculiar anxiety so different from the strain of combat in the field. ]

[ that was nice, yelena thinks. but then she thinks that she really needs to touch some grass if that was all it took for the hair on the back of her neck to stand.

it's all fun and games — them dancing around the fact that they both want to see more of one another without actually having to say it. that's what flirting is anyway, right??

it's all fun and games until he calls her ka-bar tacky. then there's fire in her eyes, her eyes wide like he just said the most fucking ridiculous thing Ever and it's true. he has. and this is where she draws the line! yelena downs her entire glass of whiskey to process the insult. ]

You are just jealous. It's okay, I would be too. Though I should gut you for that comment, I have decided that you will live to see another day, Barnes.

[ infuriatingly, her anger just seems to bounce right off his bemusement. because it's all too familiar: it's similar to the way sam needles at him, stokes bucky's irritation until he's fuming and complaining for so little reason at all. so he just smirks back. ]

Hey, it can be tacky and well-made and murderously efficient. Both of these things can be true at once.

[ yelena should know better than to even reply, but she doesn't know how to shut up.

she's calmed down some, but she's still agitated enough to pinch her nose bridge and wave a hand at him. melina will hear about this!! or wait. no — if she tells melina, melina will ask a bunch of questions and then alexei will get involved, then her sister and that's just too much for her to handle right now. ]

You call it tacky one more time and it will trigger my fight or fight response.

[ yes bucky you heard that right ]

[ his mouth opens — he really can't resist the siren call of a challenge like that, like a kid being told not to touch the wet paint — but, with frankly herculean effort, bucky lets his mouth snap shut instead. and he just shoots her a sardonic look, the tilt of an eyebrow, as he takes another sip of his drink. okay. look? he can stay quiet too! sometimes! ]

[ yelena pulls a bucky and stares. she stares and stares and stares until he's convinced her that he's really not going to say anything.

honestly? she's a little impressed. just a little bit. ]

Really? Nothing to say? [ so she taunts him, cocks her head to the side and inches closer. ] I could take you. Tacky combat knife and all.

[ an incredulous blink. she isn't alexei's daughter, but man, she also really is alexei's daughter. ]

Is that you challenging me to a fight?

[ not that he hasn't fought widows before; the winter soldier had, in fact, trained some of them, and so he remains intimately familiar with their particular fighting style. bucky can even still remember his most recent tussle with the avengers: the way nat threw herself at him, climbed his back, tried to choke him out. a desperate hardscrabble battle on the streets and in the government facility when he escaped, zemo's codewords acting as a lever to pry him out.

he hasn't exactly been accustomed to these sorts of scraps when it wasn't life-or-death, though. ]

No offense, but I'd rather not.

[ it's a simple answer. there's a sure, solemn nod to his question.

she was trained by the best, and can hold her own against her sister. she's also put alexei into a headlock recently, but she's pretty he let her get away with that. no need for bucky to know any of that, though.

yelena's lips jut out in something that resembles a pout. ]

Why not?

[ "i don't want to hurt you" is the truth, but he can already guess how that would be received: not well. it would sound patronising, condescending, implying she can't actually hold her own in a fight, when that's not really the point.

i don't fight for fun is closer to it. compared to alexei's boisterousness, armwrestles and wrestling in general and cheerful tackles in any sport, bucky tends to hold himself apart. in the end, he settles for: ]

I just got off a redeye flight, coming back from a mission. Had enough fighting today. I'm tired.

[ there's something thoughtful behind his eyes, though, and it's easy to suspect that that isn't the whole truth — not exactly — but it is at least part of it. ]

[ yelena doesn't buy it — not totally anyway, but. she knows the feeling all too well. bucky does look tired (doesn't he always?) so she concedes. ]

Fine.

[ she moves over to the sink, turning the faucet on to wash her glass because she is a respectable guest and she also doesn't want to overstay her welcome. ]

Rain check on that dance, then?

Rain check.

[ but he doesn't want them to part on this off-kilter, semi-tense note — he already finds himself missing their more amiable back-and-forth — and so after a moment bucky adds, like a parting gift, or an olive branch: ]

I'll practice my footwork for you before then, Belova. Gotta make sure I don't step on your toes.

[ there's that small half-smile; apologetic, almost. ]

It's okay if you step on my toes. I know you're a little rusty, grandpa.

[ while his smile is apologetic, the one she offers is hopeful. yelena rather enjoys this inconsistent dynamic they've got going on. it's exhilarating in a way she can't quite explain, and it makes her heart race heaps quicker than it usually does on missions.

she's wiping down her glass with a washcloth she picked off from the refrigerator door (how long it's been there, she has no idea and she doesn't care).

she wishes she was the type to kiss people she liked goodbye, but she isn't. instead she runs her fingers along the fabric of the apron in a fleeting manner as she walks past it and past bucky, until she is at his balcony door — yes, she will keep avoiding the front door for as long as she can — and slipping back into her boots. ]

Thank you for the drink and for not shooting your friendly neighbourhood apron thief— Good night, James.

[ bucky trails her to the exit, eventually propped against the doorway, shoulder and hip leaning against the doorframe as she steps out into the clamour on the balcony, the noise of the city swallowing them both back up. he's a hugger when he's finally comfortable with someone — pulling sam into it, arms clapping against shoulders — but they're not quite there yet, so he just watches her movements as she laces up her boots. the graceful turn of her shoulder, trained like a dancer; her laissez-faire ease with everything. ]

Good night, Yelena.

[ using her first name for the first time in a while, and contemplative as he watches her go, smoothly clambering over the railing and disappearing back into the night. ]

⧗ 𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫-𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝

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