ostavil | open post

Lying against him as she was, Natasha had fallen into a light, blissful doze during his impromptu acapella concert, waking every few minutes only to be lulled back to sleep by Bucky's low, melodic voice. She heard him speak again, no rhythm to those words, and blinked her eyes open, muzzily realizing a full hour had passed.

"Hmm? Oh." She had to chuckle, a low throaty sound. "Yes, you really are." She nestled her head on his shoulder, relishing his warmth. She hated the cold. "Sing the song about the ivy and the stone. I think that one is my favorite..."

"Kinda mine too," Bucky says, singing the song. It's different in this quiet, hushed place between the two of them than it was recording it and honestly, Bucky feels like no one will understand the true intimacy of that song but he and Natasha no matter how many teenage girls will squeal that it's "totally their song, oh my god."

He strokes her hair as he sings, just wanting to comfort her, and when he finishes the song he doesn't stop moving his hand in her hair.

"You're my favorite. Doesn't matter where you are in life compared to me."

His voice washed over her, soothing away the hurts of the previous day. Natasha slowly let herself relax again, cuddled against Bucky's solid chest. He was safe and warm, and a wonderful jukebox, indeed. Pure talent. She drifted back off again, dreaming of a tall, thick stone wall covered in tangled green ivy, broad leaves caressing the stone with each breath of the wind.

James was stroking her hair, petting her gently, and Natasha drifted right off to sleep yet again, lost in her dreams and the sound of her savior's low voice, lulling her like nothing else ever had. She didn't hear him speak again, nor feel it when Bucky shifted so they might rest better together. Exhaustion had caught up with her once more, and held her trapped in its clutches.

It's easy to fall asleep with Natasha in his arms and when he stirs again, she's still curled up against him. This is the thing he's dreamed of, honestly. He'd love a physical relationship that was reciprocated, sure, but if he could only have this forever, he thinks that's a pretty good deal.

He hates to wake her so he just murmurs lightly against her hair. "I'm going to have food ordered in. Is there something you want? I'll get it and we can eat something. I'll go get your stuff afterward. Do you want someone to come stay with you while I'm gone?"

Her warm bulwark stirred, and Natasha swam out from her slumber, a little nonplussed. She dimly heard James asking about food, but the thought of eating made her a little nauseous right now, so Natasha just shook her head; she was fine right now.

Lips dry and chapped, she licked them a little before saying, "...'m good, James. Just tired, still." And possibly concussed, but there was no way to know until she got into a doctor's office. "'m okay, though. 'm gonna stay right here and nap..." A yawn accentuated this.

"Okay. Well, when I go out, I'll get us something and when you wake up, you'll have your stuff and something to eat."

It doesn't take long to round up Sam and Steve (who'd taken a half day just to help out with this) and luckily Alexi isn't home when they come into the apartment to get Natasha's things. It would have been an issue except the building manager was more than happy to open an apartment for the Bucky Barnes.

They'd brought boxes and pack up Natasha's clothes and jewelry, shoes and personal items. He makes sure to get a laptop that looks like her work stuff and her keys and wallet. He doesn't see the cell phone she'd called him from and she hadn't brought it with her so while he stops for Thai, he just goes and gets her a new phone and pays cash for it. It won't help with her contacts list or anything but since it's an iPhone maybe she can get them from the cloud or some shit. He just puts it on his own plan, too, and decides that he won't mention it unless it comes up.

When he gets back to the house, he puts everything in the kitchen before going back to the bedroom.

"Hey Sleeping Beauty. Got food and a bunch of stuff for you. Got you a new phone too."

She was still asleep when the men returned, and didn't stir until Bucky appeared in the bedroom, calling to her gently. Natasha shifted, yawned, then blinked awake, single green eye slowly focusing on the dark-haired musician next to her. She smiled, truly happy to see him there, but winced when doing so twinged her lip.

"Owww...man, that still hurts." But she managed to sit up, at least, pushing tangled red hair out of her face. "Hey," she murmured shyly, still sleepy and tousled. Natasha couldn't help but reach for him, taking his hand with hers and lacing their fingers together.

"'m glad your back," she told him softly, lifting their joined hands to rub the back of his against her cheek. "...what time is it?"

"Around four," Bucky says. "And I'm glad to be back. I got your stuff down in the kitchen and I'll move it wherever you want it in a little while. I'd like it if you stayed up here in the main house while you're still healing up, though."

Maybe he's protective but it's warranted right now, he thinks.

"You don't gotta stay in my room or anything but uh, if you wanna stay in my room I don't mind. Kind of nice to have someone to share with."

Hearing that he'd brought her possessions back with him garnered a little bit of wary trepidation. Natasha sat up further, gaze widening as much as it could. "Did...was there any trouble?" Dear God, she hoped not. Alex would have snarled and refused anyone in the apartment, she knew that without question.

"I..." and she paused. Licked her lips, then tried again. "I'm grateful for the offer, James. And, all things considered," because she didn't want Alex to find her anywhere in the city, "I think I'll accept the invitation. To stay here, I mean. As long as you truly don't mind."

"Nah, he wasn't there. Your landlord let me in. I guess he was a fan or at least recognized me and didn't think I was there to steal shit. Anyway, I got everything that was yours and I didn't see your phone so I just got you a new one. You'll have to set it up and everything but don't worry about it. Don't worry about staying here, either. Stay as long as you want."

It's not like he doesn't like the space and, honestly, it's nice to have someone he cares about here. It makes the loneliness less.

"Nobody's gonna come up here without my security letting me know about it. You'll be safe."

Natasha sighed relief, hearing that. But her brows furrowed when he mentioned a new phone for her, but there wasn't much use in protesting. And in all honesty, she did need a phone. She still needed to call her office to let Anita know what was going on, or at least as much as she could.

And indeed, staying here would be the safest option by far; there was no way anyone would gain access to this place without permission. But for the moment, she thought she could do with some food. Natasha pushed back the covers, swinging bare legs out over the bed.

"You mentioned food. What did you bring back?"

"I brought back Thai. It's downstairs in the kitchen if you want to eat there or we can go out on the deck and eat. Whatever. I'm flexible."

Really, he's just trying to please her and Bucky's pretty sure he'd wrap himself up into a pretzel to do just that. He's got it bad for her, terribly bad, but he doesn't think he wants to be anywhere else.

"I figured you'd probably be hungry."

"Thai? That's perfect." She sighed satisfaction. Then smiled shyly again. "Thank you, James. For everything. I really appreciate all of your help." Reaching for her discarded sweats, Natasha slipped into them, saying, "Would you mind dishing us up while I find something a little more suitable to wear?"

It was a bit awkward, the thought of parading around this millionaire's home in his borrowed clothes. As if she were some pathetic groupie, greedy for his time and attention.

"Eating on the deck sounds fabulous. The view out there is amazing."

"Oh, sure. I'll get it together out there," Bucky says. He goes and puts it on actual plates instead of eating out of cartons and brings a pitcher of water along with a bottle of wine so Natasha has choices for what she wants to drink.

He finds himself with a little extra time and he hates it because he's just pacing around and fidgeting like this is an actual date and not just having takeout with a friend who needs his help.

"Get it together, Barnes," he mutters to himself.

Natasha rummaged through the boxes the men brought back, and ended up with another pair of yoga pants and a comfortable pale blue blouse, long sleeved to keep warm in the cool Pacific breeze. Thick woolen socks completed her ensemble, and she joined her host on the terrace with a shy little smile, nodding appreciating for the take-out.

"Thanks, James," the redhead told him, reaching out to squeeze his hand on the way to her chair. "It smells amazing. I love Thai food." Her brows rose, seeing the wine, but she opted for ice water, just because. "Hopefully there are dumplings, because those are my all time favorite."

"Two orders," Bucky says, grinning. "They're my favorite too and I don't like sharing but if you want 'em all, I won't fight you. You're a guest, after all."

And he's like a teenage boy around her and has been ever since he's met her. God, he has it bad, and he needs to remember she's coming out of a relationship so bad that Bucky has no reference for it in his personal life. He's never known anyone like Alexi before.

"We got a decent view out here, too. If you want, I can go light a fire in the firepit and we can watch the sun go down."

Natasha chuckled lightly, tucking one foot beneath her. "I'm okay with sharing, if you don't mind. Just this once, maybe." Because dumplings really were her favorite, especially slathered in peanut sauce. "And a fire would be nice," she agreed, settling back.

She and Alex had never spent time like this, just comfortable in each other's company. Being alone today, able to reflect, Natasha had thought back and realized just how sterile her relationship with the Air Force pilot had been. It was depressing, really.

And while she knew James Barnes had 'feelings' for her, spoken from his own mouth, Natasha simply didn't believe she was ready for that sort of relationship again. Her own heart was too battered, too weary, to try and navigate a man's expectations. But perhaps they could be friends, at least.

"Just wanna make sure you're comfy and happy," Bucky says. That's more important than anything romantic, honestly. He cares about Natasha even if it's never more than friends and right now, she needs a friend more than anything else. Bucky wants to be that friend.

"If you need anything, you tell me or Anita or Becca and we'll get it for you. Anita's the housekeeper. She's here during the week from 8-5. Otherwise, it's me, and I'll walk through fire to get you anything you want."

It was second nature for her to be wary. She'd not come from a stable, happy family, and her formative years had been sketchy, at best. She'd never made friends easily, and had always remained aloof; not out of any disdain or snobbery, but because she just couldn't see herself fitting in to any casual group of friends.

No, she'd dedicated her years to her job, believing her profession far more important. She'd amassed a small fortune, which would serve her well now, thank goodness, but it was still...nice, to have someone else offering to take care of her. Or so he said.

Time would tell. It always did.

"Thank you, James, I appreciate all of your help." Natasha thought she might be saying that over and over in the coming days. But she meant it. Then she tucked her feet in close, wrapping her arms around her knees and gazed out over the water. "...to be honest, I can't really remember the last time I've even been happy."

Realizing how that sounded, the redhead turned a smile on her host, soft. "But this is a good start, though."

It's a sad thing, thinking about Natasha not being happy in so long that she can't remember it. It's not normal, anyway, and Bucky just wants to wrap her up and never let her go. He can't do that, though, and it breaks his heart.

"Well, I'm gonna take care of you. Seems like you haven't had a lot of that lately."

Ducking her head slightly, Natasha gave a soft shrug. "Not really, no." Offhand, attempting to be casual. "It's always been just me, taking care of me." She tried a nonchalant smile, but it was marred by her split lip.

"It's rather a pathetic story, and please don't think I'm trying to garner any pity at all, but I was a foster kid until I was about seventeen. Graduated in the top five of my high class, though. Then it was grants and scholarships, but at least I made it to college."

Her mild humor sobered, a little. "Then I met Alex, and the world seemed wide open. He was a brash young lieutenant, I was just getting into business management. Seemed perfect, right?" Natasha gave a soft snort. "I guess I should have taken the hint, being together for seven years and still 'dating'."

"Marriage isn't for everyone," Bucky says, trying to comfort her. "But it doesn't seem like that relationship was good for you based on what I'm seeing right now. Was he always like that? Did he ever hit you before?"

Bucky's aware these are questions that might be prying and painful but he wants to know how long this has been going on and why no one has ever helped her before. He would have helped from the first if he'd just known.

Natasha's mouth twitched wryly. "It's certainly not for me, apparently." But she wasn't going to start a pity party for herself. "It wasn't all bad," she told him, shrugging lightly. "Not at the first. We did have a lot of fun, or we used to. And no, he's never hit me before." Then her expression fell further.

"He's always under stress. That's not an excuse, and I know that, but I guess...I guess I can understand. I don't know where his paranoia comes from, because I don't have time to have an affair with anyone, considering how much I work. We're both workaholics," she told Bucky, tucking her socked feet beneath her in the chair.

And she laughed, but the sound was dry and hollow. "And I barely have any friends. How could I go about having a lover?"

"To be fair, I kissed you in the apartment you shared with him," Bucky points out. "But you...that was an accident and it was probably very inappropriate of me to do. I shouldn't have been going after you to begin with. But stress isn't a reason to hurt you, Natasha."

Bucky has stress too, from time to time, and he's never wanted to be violent toward someone. He'd only gotten in the fight at the bar because he was drunk and it'd never happened before and won't happen again.

"Before this happened, though - did you want to be with him? Did you still like it?"

Natasha shook her head. "That...that shouldn't have happened, you're right, but that doesn't have anything to do with it." She sighed, rubbing her forehead. "I don't know. I...wish I did, James. I wish this all made sense."

She fell silent for a bit, mulling over the question.

"I guess...it's more a habit, now, than anything else. It's easy to fall into that well, just accept things rather than work to change them. And with Alex, at least I wasn't alone, I guess? But, I think...I think whatever was actually between us...it died a while ago, and I just missed it. Too busy, probably. The both of us."

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