"Probably need to keep her in the incubator. It seems like she got some of my healing factor," Bucky says, pondering it for a moment, "But I would rather be safe than sorry. She's our child and we have to take the best care of her we can. I'm not taking any chances with that when we've got the most advanced medicine in the world at our disposal."
Bucky thanks god again that this baby had been born in Wakanda under Shuri's care and not somewhere else where Natasha and Rebecca might have died. Most places he's hidden over the years haven't had the luxuries that Wakanda does and it's a little crazy to him that T'Challa and his family managed to keep it hidden away for so long.
"When we get home, though, all the family bonding we can stand. I don't ever want to be away from her for a second because I'm afraid I'll miss something."
The nurse came in not long after to take Baby Barnes back to her incubator, but not before goodnight kisses from both her mother and her father. Another smiling Wakandan nurse came in to take Natasha's vitals, inquire as to any pain, and report that all looked well, and her recovery was progressing right on schedule.
The redhead sighed, and once more relaxed in her husband's arms, gently slipping hers around his thick torso. "You're going to be a wonderful father," she predicted, kissing his cheek softly. Then she smirked, eyes crinkling lightly. "But you'll have to let her learn to walk before she's twenty, moya zvezda."
"She doesn't need to walk. I'm strong enough to carry her in one arm and you in the other," Bucky scoffs. Being curled up against Natasha makes it feel like something falling back into place that had been broken for a little while. He drifts his hand through her hair and since it's his left, he tries to be careful so the joints in his prosthetic don't pull.
"You gave me the most precious gift I could ever receive," he murmurs. "And I don't know if I can ever repay you for that or even if I have to but I want to spend the rest of my life trying to. I want to be the best husband and the best father I can possibly be."
She had to laugh at that one, but some deep part of her actually worried that he might serious. Well, once they were home together, Natasha knew things would get easier. Eventually. They were both Soviet-trained assassins, surely they could handle parenthood. Her eyes closed as Bucky stroked her hair, and she settled more comfortably into his grasp, relishing his warmth and familiar scent. It always comforted her.
"James, you will be." She touched his cheek and kissed his lips. "Try not to worry so much, malyutka, okay? We're going to be fine. Rebecca's going to be fine." Natasha tucked her head beneath Bucky's chin and sighed softly. "We got this, you and me." Her arms wound gently around his torso and she held him tight. "Get some sleep, baby." A soft nuzzle. "I wanna wake up in your arms tomorrow morning."
"Telling me not to worry is practically useless, you know," Bucky admits, laughing hollowly. Sure, they're both trained assassins but how can he protect Natasha if her health fails? How can he protect an innocent child? He'd been designed to kill, not protect, and it still feels foreign to flip that orientation.
"My whole world is the two of you. I couldn't be me without you," he murmurs against her hair. "And if I lose you, I'm afraid I'll regress back into what I was before they deprogrammed me. As many times as they wiped me, you were always in there, though. I always wanted redheads. When I saw you in Odessa, I was so stunned by you that I almost fucked the mission. I almost broke out of programming and that's how I shot you. I never would have - I would have gotten a clean shot - but you jarred me. I'm sorry."
Natasha placed a hand over Bucky's mouth. "Enough," she told him quietly, but firmly. "That's enough. All of that is in the past. This is our future, you, me, and that little girl in there." She slipped her fingers from his lips to his cheek, making him look down at her.
"That's all that really matters, James. Hear me?" She pulled him close again, hand at the back of his head to soothe his worry and his fears. "I'm okay, Rebecca's okay. In a few days we'll be home, and all of this will be just another memory. Now, get some sleep, da?" She pulled away to smirk at him, lips tilting. "Or do I need to get Shuri to give you something to knock you out?"
Bucky did go to sleep that night, curled around his wife, and true to all the assurances he'd gotten from Shuri, from medical staff and from Natasha herself, the entire family was back home in a few days.
Seeing Natasha with the baby is something that pulls at his heartstrings every time he sees it. There's nothing more beautiful than his daughter resting in Natasha's arms or seeing those big blue eyes looking up at green ones. He knows he spoils the baby too and right now he's rocking her, shushing her little cries.
"C'mon pretty girl. It's gonna be all right. You know it is."
Despite all the reading and research she'd done on the subject, no one had bothered to tell her how exhausting motherhood was going to be. But despite her postpartum fatigue, Natasha diligently endeavored to be up and around as soon as she could, a plan that was, of course, thwarted by her doting, overly concerned husband. Not only did Bucky handle all of the household chores, the animals and their care, and everything else, he also insisted that she rest, and made sure that both she and little Rebecca were waited upon at all hours, hand and foot.
It was endearing, but Natasha didn't want him to wear himself out, and it was only grudgingly that Bucky allowed himself any respite, regardless of how brief. She woke up from a nap one afternoon not long after they'd returned home to hear Rebecca fussing and spied Bucky walking up and down their bedroom with the little girl cradled in his arms, cooing at her in his low, soothing voice.
Rather than intervene, Natasha simply reclined on her pillow and watched, as always touched by the sight. Rebecca whimpered and pouted, irritable for some reason, and her little hands waved back and forth, but she eventually grew quiet, though she sniffled a few times before settling. Natasha propped her head on one hand, smiling softly.
"Well, little myshka is a good motivator to learn quickly. How are you feeling? Need anything?" Rebecca is calming down a little so he thinks he might be able to soothe her back to sleep and let her finish her nap. He barely sleeps these days but the serum doesn't require it and, granted, it's by choice. He can think of much worse reasons to be up all hours of the day and night than taking care of his infant daughter and his wife.
"I just can't stop holding her or looking at her. I still can't believe I even have her," he goes on to say. "And it's a little crazy that I have this little girl that I never thought I was going to be able to have. Maybe I'm just walking on sunshine or something, I don't know." He flashes Natasha a grin and it's such a stupid one that he can even feel how stupid it is on his face.
Natasha laughed quietly, shaking her head in soft amusement. "A little bit, yeah. I sort of believe she's very real, thanks to the aches and pains I'm still getting over." A gentle tease; she'd have gone through a thousand more years of the same to be able to hold the little girl whimpering in Bucky's arms just now. "But you're definitely walking on sunshine," she agreed, "and it's a good thing, believe me."
She'd been exactly right when she'd predicted that James Barnes was going to be a wonderful husband and father. Neither she nor her daughter wanted for anything; the slightest inkling that something was needed, and he was hurrying off to retrieve it. She admittedly felt a bit guilty for relying on him so much, and she knew he'd never voice a word of complaint, but she'd never been one to simply rest about on her laurels.
Speaking of...
"Well, if you're getting her back to sleep, I think I'll get up and do a few stretches while she naps." Natasha slowly pushed back the sheets, grimacing slightly at the stretch and pull of her still-sore lower body. But she was determined to regain all of her former strength; she had a feeling she was going to need it, trying to keep up with this precious miracle they'd both been given.
"I'll get her back down and then I can help you," Bucky says, shushing Rebecca a little more until he's sure he can get her back in the bassinet without her fussing and waking herself up. She's mostly good right now but it's early days and he knows from the parenting books he's read that infants sleep a lot at first. The real test is going to be in a few weeks when Rebecca doesn't want to sleep through the night. Maybe they'll be those lucky parents.
Rebecca laid gently back in the cradle, Bucky comes back into the bedroom to see where Natasha's gotten on the stretching front. He loves to see her body, limber and graceful like a dancer, and he can't help the gleam of want in his eyes in spite of the fact that he's not going to be able to have for a while.
"You want a counterweight to stretch a little more? I'm offering."
There was a small shaded spot behind the house that was perfect for her to do her workouts. It took her a little longer to navigate to it, but she had all the time in the world, at least. Or so she kept telling herself. Natasha gingerly placed her mat on the grass and began with a few knee bends and arm stretches, feeling the pull of her muscles, delicious from so long without any real exertion.
She smiled when Bucky emerged through the back door, and she held out her hands in response. "Sure. Just hold my hands steady so I don't topple over on my nose." Unworried about gripping both of her husband's hands in an equal clasp, the redhead used his arms to lean against as she bent over between them, grunting softly when her back pulled and flexed. She held it for as long as she could, then straightened, face flushed but eyes soft and bright.
"And now," she directed, letting go of his hands and taking a step back to lean against the wall of their house, "here, grab my ankle and slowly pull my leg up, like that." Her abdomen was still a good amount of sore, but she wanted to make sure all the muscles she could use were supple and flexible. "Bring it up to about waist-level...not too fast."
Bucky knows how to do stretches properly, having worked out with both Natasha and Steve before. He grabs her ankle when she asks and slowly pulls her leg up so he can help stretch her legs and lower back. He wants to be careful not to pull anything, yeah, but he trusts Natasha to let him know what's too much.
"I could rub you down if you wanted," Bucky says, dutifully keeping his grip on her so she doesn't fall. "After stretching everything, it might feel nice to get a rubdown and make sure all those muscles get worked out and back into shape. As long as you don't mind both hands, anyway."
He's still self conscious about the left, even if he has the prosthetic and Shuri's work is the best he could get. He can't imagine the metal feels good against skin, at all, and he wants Natasha to feel loved and pampered. Maybe he ought to just get a masseuse out here.
She switched one leg for the other, then went back around again. The burn was nice, meant she was doing things right. Even though it'd be a while before she felt ready to tackle another "world-saving problem", but Natasha honestly thought her days of that sort of thing were behind the both of them now. They had another, more important obligation to look after, after all.
"Ooh, I know it would," she agreed, gently taking her ankle out of his grip and lowering it to stand on both feet. Then immediately winding her arms around her husband's neck and pulling him down for a long, slow kiss. "You know I don't mind, James." She never had. But she understood his paranoia about the prosthetic, which was why she always made sure to treat it just like the other arm; no different.
Natasha leaned back enough to rub his nose with hers. "I don't want any other hands on me but yours, papa. Both of them."
The kiss is warm and sensual and all the things he really shouldn't be thinking about when he can't have sex with his wife and there's a sleeping baby inside the house. He's going to have to deal with this problem later, alone, and when the kiss ends he feels a little bereft.
When Natasha says she wants his hands on her, though, and doesn't care about the vibranium one, he tries to allow himself to think about touching her without always guarding his left away from her, always worrying it'll bruise pale, soft skin.
"You haven't," she shushed him. "And you won't." Natasha ran fingertips of her right hand down the smooth ridges of his left arm, it as familiar to her as his own flesh and blood limb. "I like it when you touch me with it," she assured him with a soft low giggle. "You know I do."
She took his left wrist and pulled that arm around her waist, fitting herself snugly in the crook of that elbow. "You hold Rebecca with it," Natasha pointed out. "You have more control over it than you believe you do, James." He was always second-guessing himself, but she understood why. And she'd always reassure him that he didn't have to live inside his own head, he didn't have to overthink every decision he made.
"C'mon. Let's go take a bath, and then you can rub me all over, da?"
"You drive a hard bargain," Bucky says. With the baby asleep for the time being, though, he wants the chance to get in the bath with Natasha and just spend some time alone with his wife. It's not going to be sex, obviously, but there were ways to be physically affectionate that didn't involve sex at all and Bucky was just as interested in those as anything else.
When he gets inside, he runs the water for them and tips in a little of a floral-scented bath oil that he's seen Natasha use before. He's going to smell like he rolled in a meadow or something but he guesses she will probably appreciate the touch. He strips off his t-shirt and shucks his jeans before walking back out into the bedroom to call her in.
"Come on, kotyonok. Nice and hot, like you asked."
Natasha let Bucky go on into the bathroom and prepare the bathwater; she took her time easing out of her top and bottoms. It still twinged, this nice new scar on her lower belly. But the baby sleeping peacefully not too far away was worth it and more, so she gave her daughter a loving glance before gathering up her clothes and padding into the welcoming steam, holding on to her husband as he lowered the both of them into the sweetly-fragranted water.
"...this is nice," she remarked, leaning back against Bucky's broad chest comfortably. Natasha reached out and pulled both of his arms around her, soaking up his warmth and affection as they lounged in the tub. She rested her head against his jaw, holding his wrists to keep his embrace. "Spasibo, malyutka." Natasha reached up to press a kiss to his cheek. "...I love you so much, y'know."
It feels good to lay like this, Natasha in his arms, and the warm water seems to be lulling him into a calm he hadn't felt since before Natasha had even gotten pregnant. He's been on the precipice of change for so long that now that he's gone through it, his body doesn't know how to relax. Now he's finally getting that chance.
"Gonna miss you while you're off-limits, you know," Bucky says, a hint of a tease in his voice. "I'm used to getting you whenever I want you and now I've got to wait. It's gonna be interesting. Wouldn't trade the experience for anything else, though. Glad you gave me the chance to be a dad - the chance for us to be a family. I miss having a family."
She picked up a bath sponge, held it beneath the water, then brought it up to smooth over their entwined arms, the hot water soothing and comforting. But Natasha had to chuckle to his gentle teasing, flicking a bit of water back at him. "Believe me, I know." Her hormones were even more of a scramble now than they were when she'd first been pregnant. "The only thing keeping me from jumping your gorgeous bones right now is the fact that my stomach still hurts."
But she sighed sweet contentment and cuddled closer, still sponging hot water over them both. "But neither would I, honestly. I'm really glad that we are a family. It's...well, I've never really had one, not just for myself." Wet, warm fingertips ghosted over his cheek. "So, thank you for that."
"We're a family. We were before Rebecca," Bucky says, wanting to assure Natasha that he didn't think family just meant having children, "But now our family's grown in a way that we never thought we could have. We got back what was stolen from us against our will and it's the best revenge we could have ever gotten on them."
Bucky tries not to mention HYDRA these days or the KGB. He tries not to bring those ghosts back into their lives and he doesn't think about them nearly as much as he used to. The nightmares are less now that he has safety and security with Natasha and he hopes that someday, they'll go away entirely.
"Good thing you still think I'm gorgeous. It was me who made you go through all that pain," Bucky teases gently. "I had the easy part. We both got the fun part, though."
She laughed softly again and splashed him a little more seriously this time, but she didn't disagree any at all. Neither of them had had the chance to actually be people, and it was a miraculous chance they'd been given, this second and even third time. Natasha thanked a God she didn't entirely believe in any more for that, each and every day.
"And it'll be fun still, raising her together. I bet she ends up just like you, all ringlets and blue eyes and that amazingly charming smile, Sergeant Barnes. What do you think about that?" Because it was damned uncanny, just how much their daughter resembled her father. Even at this young age, there was so much of Bucky Barnes in that little girl that sometimes, looking at her, it took Natasha's breath away.
"I think I'm not letting her out of my sight until she's at least thirty," Bucky says. Right now, he means it. Rebecca is the absolute apple of his eye right now and if anyone or anything tried to take her from him, he'd rend heaven and earth to get her back.
"Then again, I only let you out of my sight because you know twelve ways to kill me with your thumbs," he says, reaching down and stroking the curve of her breast with his right hand.
This time, she laughed right out loud, water splashing where she dropped her hands in her amusement. Honestly. "I don't think you'll be able to keep her under lock and key for that long, Sarge," Natasha mused, picking up her husband's left hand in hers and bringing his knuckles to her lips for soft kisses. "But it'll be fun, watching you at least try."
She sighed a soft moan, however, when he stroked her breast; they still ached and yearned for his calloused touch. Damn that they couldn't do what they both wanted, and that was to devour each other, but waiting was necessary, and a slow burn could be well and good, she supposed.
"Thirteen," she corrected with a light, sweet sigh, shifting a little between Bucky's thighs. "Maybe fourteen if I'm wearing heels."
"Mm, yes, I forgot about the heels," Bucky says, thinking about Natasha in one of her glam little dresses, heels and stockings and the whole nine. They don't have a lot of reason to dress up these days and if they do, it's tac gear and not anything fancy. Maybe he needs to get an invitation to some state dinner with T'Challa so they have a chance to show off.
He keeps his fingertips light along the curve of her breast and prepares himself to pull them away if it's too much for her. He wants to be close but he doesn't want to drive her insane.
"Muscles loosening up any for you? Or do you still want me to rub you down when we get out of here?"
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Bucky thanks god again that this baby had been born in Wakanda under Shuri's care and not somewhere else where Natasha and Rebecca might have died. Most places he's hidden over the years haven't had the luxuries that Wakanda does and it's a little crazy to him that T'Challa and his family managed to keep it hidden away for so long.
"When we get home, though, all the family bonding we can stand. I don't ever want to be away from her for a second because I'm afraid I'll miss something."
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The redhead sighed, and once more relaxed in her husband's arms, gently slipping hers around his thick torso. "You're going to be a wonderful father," she predicted, kissing his cheek softly. Then she smirked, eyes crinkling lightly. "But you'll have to let her learn to walk before she's twenty, moya zvezda."
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"You gave me the most precious gift I could ever receive," he murmurs. "And I don't know if I can ever repay you for that or even if I have to but I want to spend the rest of my life trying to. I want to be the best husband and the best father I can possibly be."
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"James, you will be." She touched his cheek and kissed his lips. "Try not to worry so much, malyutka, okay? We're going to be fine. Rebecca's going to be fine." Natasha tucked her head beneath Bucky's chin and sighed softly. "We got this, you and me." Her arms wound gently around his torso and she held him tight. "Get some sleep, baby." A soft nuzzle. "I wanna wake up in your arms tomorrow morning."
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"My whole world is the two of you. I couldn't be me without you," he murmurs against her hair. "And if I lose you, I'm afraid I'll regress back into what I was before they deprogrammed me. As many times as they wiped me, you were always in there, though. I always wanted redheads. When I saw you in Odessa, I was so stunned by you that I almost fucked the mission. I almost broke out of programming and that's how I shot you. I never would have - I would have gotten a clean shot - but you jarred me. I'm sorry."
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"That's all that really matters, James. Hear me?" She pulled him close again, hand at the back of his head to soothe his worry and his fears. "I'm okay, Rebecca's okay. In a few days we'll be home, and all of this will be just another memory. Now, get some sleep, da?" She pulled away to smirk at him, lips tilting. "Or do I need to get Shuri to give you something to knock you out?"
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Bucky did go to sleep that night, curled around his wife, and true to all the assurances he'd gotten from Shuri, from medical staff and from Natasha herself, the entire family was back home in a few days.
Seeing Natasha with the baby is something that pulls at his heartstrings every time he sees it. There's nothing more beautiful than his daughter resting in Natasha's arms or seeing those big blue eyes looking up at green ones. He knows he spoils the baby too and right now he's rocking her, shushing her little cries.
"C'mon pretty girl. It's gonna be all right. You know it is."
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It was endearing, but Natasha didn't want him to wear himself out, and it was only grudgingly that Bucky allowed himself any respite, regardless of how brief. She woke up from a nap one afternoon not long after they'd returned home to hear Rebecca fussing and spied Bucky walking up and down their bedroom with the little girl cradled in his arms, cooing at her in his low, soothing voice.
Rather than intervene, Natasha simply reclined on her pillow and watched, as always touched by the sight. Rebecca whimpered and pouted, irritable for some reason, and her little hands waved back and forth, but she eventually grew quiet, though she sniffled a few times before settling. Natasha propped her head on one hand, smiling softly.
"You're getting pretty good at that, malyutka."
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"I just can't stop holding her or looking at her. I still can't believe I even have her," he goes on to say. "And it's a little crazy that I have this little girl that I never thought I was going to be able to have. Maybe I'm just walking on sunshine or something, I don't know." He flashes Natasha a grin and it's such a stupid one that he can even feel how stupid it is on his face.
"Is it the same for you?"
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She'd been exactly right when she'd predicted that James Barnes was going to be a wonderful husband and father. Neither she nor her daughter wanted for anything; the slightest inkling that something was needed, and he was hurrying off to retrieve it. She admittedly felt a bit guilty for relying on him so much, and she knew he'd never voice a word of complaint, but she'd never been one to simply rest about on her laurels.
Speaking of...
"Well, if you're getting her back to sleep, I think I'll get up and do a few stretches while she naps." Natasha slowly pushed back the sheets, grimacing slightly at the stretch and pull of her still-sore lower body. But she was determined to regain all of her former strength; she had a feeling she was going to need it, trying to keep up with this precious miracle they'd both been given.
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Rebecca laid gently back in the cradle, Bucky comes back into the bedroom to see where Natasha's gotten on the stretching front. He loves to see her body, limber and graceful like a dancer, and he can't help the gleam of want in his eyes in spite of the fact that he's not going to be able to have for a while.
"You want a counterweight to stretch a little more? I'm offering."
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She smiled when Bucky emerged through the back door, and she held out her hands in response. "Sure. Just hold my hands steady so I don't topple over on my nose." Unworried about gripping both of her husband's hands in an equal clasp, the redhead used his arms to lean against as she bent over between them, grunting softly when her back pulled and flexed. She held it for as long as she could, then straightened, face flushed but eyes soft and bright.
"And now," she directed, letting go of his hands and taking a step back to lean against the wall of their house, "here, grab my ankle and slowly pull my leg up, like that." Her abdomen was still a good amount of sore, but she wanted to make sure all the muscles she could use were supple and flexible. "Bring it up to about waist-level...not too fast."
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"I could rub you down if you wanted," Bucky says, dutifully keeping his grip on her so she doesn't fall. "After stretching everything, it might feel nice to get a rubdown and make sure all those muscles get worked out and back into shape. As long as you don't mind both hands, anyway."
He's still self conscious about the left, even if he has the prosthetic and Shuri's work is the best he could get. He can't imagine the metal feels good against skin, at all, and he wants Natasha to feel loved and pampered. Maybe he ought to just get a masseuse out here.
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"Ooh, I know it would," she agreed, gently taking her ankle out of his grip and lowering it to stand on both feet. Then immediately winding her arms around her husband's neck and pulling him down for a long, slow kiss. "You know I don't mind, James." She never had. But she understood his paranoia about the prosthetic, which was why she always made sure to treat it just like the other arm; no different.
Natasha leaned back enough to rub his nose with hers. "I don't want any other hands on me but yours, papa. Both of them."
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When Natasha says she wants his hands on her, though, and doesn't care about the vibranium one, he tries to allow himself to think about touching her without always guarding his left away from her, always worrying it'll bruise pale, soft skin.
"I don't want to hurt you with it, is all."
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She took his left wrist and pulled that arm around her waist, fitting herself snugly in the crook of that elbow. "You hold Rebecca with it," Natasha pointed out. "You have more control over it than you believe you do, James." He was always second-guessing himself, but she understood why. And she'd always reassure him that he didn't have to live inside his own head, he didn't have to overthink every decision he made.
"C'mon. Let's go take a bath, and then you can rub me all over, da?"
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When he gets inside, he runs the water for them and tips in a little of a floral-scented bath oil that he's seen Natasha use before. He's going to smell like he rolled in a meadow or something but he guesses she will probably appreciate the touch. He strips off his t-shirt and shucks his jeans before walking back out into the bedroom to call her in.
"Come on, kotyonok. Nice and hot, like you asked."
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"...this is nice," she remarked, leaning back against Bucky's broad chest comfortably. Natasha reached out and pulled both of his arms around her, soaking up his warmth and affection as they lounged in the tub. She rested her head against his jaw, holding his wrists to keep his embrace. "Spasibo, malyutka." Natasha reached up to press a kiss to his cheek. "...I love you so much, y'know."
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"Gonna miss you while you're off-limits, you know," Bucky says, a hint of a tease in his voice. "I'm used to getting you whenever I want you and now I've got to wait. It's gonna be interesting. Wouldn't trade the experience for anything else, though. Glad you gave me the chance to be a dad - the chance for us to be a family. I miss having a family."
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But she sighed sweet contentment and cuddled closer, still sponging hot water over them both. "But neither would I, honestly. I'm really glad that we are a family. It's...well, I've never really had one, not just for myself." Wet, warm fingertips ghosted over his cheek. "So, thank you for that."
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Bucky tries not to mention HYDRA these days or the KGB. He tries not to bring those ghosts back into their lives and he doesn't think about them nearly as much as he used to. The nightmares are less now that he has safety and security with Natasha and he hopes that someday, they'll go away entirely.
"Good thing you still think I'm gorgeous. It was me who made you go through all that pain," Bucky teases gently. "I had the easy part. We both got the fun part, though."
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"And it'll be fun still, raising her together. I bet she ends up just like you, all ringlets and blue eyes and that amazingly charming smile, Sergeant Barnes. What do you think about that?" Because it was damned uncanny, just how much their daughter resembled her father. Even at this young age, there was so much of Bucky Barnes in that little girl that sometimes, looking at her, it took Natasha's breath away.
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"Then again, I only let you out of my sight because you know twelve ways to kill me with your thumbs," he says, reaching down and stroking the curve of her breast with his right hand.
"Or are you up to fifteen now?"
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She sighed a soft moan, however, when he stroked her breast; they still ached and yearned for his calloused touch. Damn that they couldn't do what they both wanted, and that was to devour each other, but waiting was necessary, and a slow burn could be well and good, she supposed.
"Thirteen," she corrected with a light, sweet sigh, shifting a little between Bucky's thighs. "Maybe fourteen if I'm wearing heels."
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He keeps his fingertips light along the curve of her breast and prepares himself to pull them away if it's too much for her. He wants to be close but he doesn't want to drive her insane.
"Muscles loosening up any for you? Or do you still want me to rub you down when we get out of here?"
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