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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."

"You deserve to be with someone who cherishes you," Bucky says. He doesn't rush to add that he wants to be that person and could be that person because he doesn't know that it would be helpful right now but he wishes that he could be. He knows that he'd take better care of her than Alex, clearly - he's already doing that.

"You deserve better and you have for a long time. I'm sorry it came to all of this for the break to happen."

Her return smile was a bit polite, a little indulgent. Mainly because she thought he was just being overly flattering. It seemed to be in keeping with what she'd learned of him, however.

"That's sweet to say, James," she told him then, single gaze warm. "I appreciate it, really." But clearly it was time to change the subject; and she really was hungry.

"Would you mind dishing us up?" She held out a hand, level with the floor. "My nerves are still a little shaky, yet."

"Oh, yeah, sure."

Bucky thinks he should have done this well before now, actually, so he's a little guilty when he starts spooning things out on plates. He makes sure to give Natasha more dumplings than himself and gives her a little grin.

"Yeah? Did I give you the correct dumpling ratio?"

Natasha watched quietly as her host served them both, smiling at his quip about the dumplings. "I think that'll be fine," she told him with a soft smile, immediately spearing one with her fork and taking a generous bite. "Mmm, delicious," she purred after swallowing the mouthful. Then aimed another soft smile in his direction. "Thank you, James."

The rest of the food was wonderful, too, or else she really was hungry. But Natasha managed to eat most of what was on her plate, settling back with a warm drink after pushing away her plate. The sun was setting over the Pacific, and the horizon was beautiful.

"Is there anything else you need? My sister's going to come over tomorrow and take you out for some stuff so you're not using my shampoo and shit. I know I'm into hair products but I don't think you want to smell like my soap."

Bucky kind of likes the idea of it, honestly, but he keeps that little bit to himself. He doesn't need to burden Natasha with that.

"I'm going to write tomorrow down in the studio anyway. Carol's coming over to work on a new song with me but she'll be down to shop afterward."

The shopping spree, in actuality, spanned the next several days, culminating in Becca Barnes and Carol Danvers ushering a continuously-protesting Natasha Romanoff into every single shop in Beverly Hills. They also took the petite redhead to the Ingelwood precinct and provided moral and sisterly support while she quietly filed charges against her former boyfriend for assault and battery. There would be a court date, and pictures of Natasha's bruised face were entered into evidence, as well as her testimony, which Bucky Barnes was good enough to corroborate, thankfully as a veiled but reliable witness.

After that, the ladies all but vanished, disappearing into Los Angeles with Bucky's credit card and no limits. Every day that week, Natasha returned with oodles of new bags, boxes, parcels, gifts, shoes, dresses, jewelry, and other accessories guaranteed to satisfy a lady's feminine heart. She'd opted to reside at the guest house, and her closet was already full to overflowing, requiring the second bedroom to host clothing racks, shoe trollys, and jewelry boxes.

She did take half of a day to check in with her secretary; Alice reported that yes, Mr. Shostakov had been urgently trying to get in touch, but she hadn't known Natasha's whereabouts nor had Natasha answered any of her messages. Filling her in on the happenings, Natasha advised Alice that she would be taking an extended, much needed, sabbatical, and gave the secretary a generous bonus, as well as two-weeks fully paid vacation, and closed up her business for the time being.

Friday evening, after Becca and Carol had deposited her and their haul back in Malibu and bid her farewell, Natasha headed up to the main house, shared kisses and hugs with Brooklyn, who happily escorted her into the bright, spacious kitchen, where she spied a familiar dark head just closing the refrigerator, his arms full of what seemed to be leftovers.

"Hi," Natasha said with a soft smile, sliding atop a barstool and resting her elbows on the island's marble top. "Leftovers for supper?" A wry eyebrow rose. "Sounds like a perfect idea."

"Well, I could cook or order in but I didn't prepare for the former and we've got leftovers so..."

Yes, he has the means to have people cook for him. Yes, he likes doing it himself instead. When it's just him, there's no point in having someone cook for him all the time so he usually will do for himself a night or two a week especially if he's by himself and has no guests.

"You wanna just eat in here? We could go to the dining room but that table's kind of huge and the room echoes."

"Sure." Natasha didn't mind eating in the kitchen in the slightest. Before, she'd actually taken most meals either in her home study, or on the couch with her laptop, or standing in her own kitchen, eating while she scrolled through emails on her phone. Eating with someone was a brand new novelty.

"Before we eat, though," she began, hesitating slightly, then deciding to just go with it, "...I...have something for you."

She placed a small black box on the island, wrapped in a bright blue ribbon, and slowly slid it towards the opposite side. "It's a 'thank you', of sorts." A shrug. "...for being so kind to me. When you didn't have to."

"I don't need presents," Bucky says, lifting a hand. Still, she's given him something and when he opens it, he's quiet for a moment. It's a pendant and it looks like ivy over stone, weirdly enough, and he's touched that she would look for such a thing and buy it for him.

"Oh...I don't think anyone has ever given me anything like this before. Let me put it on."

It takes him a moment to get it out of the box and get it on but once he does, he realizes it's long enough not to get tangled up on him so he can wear it all the time.

"Thank you, Natasha. It's perfect."

"I'd hoped you'd like it," she told him, more than a little shyly. "And contrary to your sister's shenanigans, this came out of my savings, so it's legitimately from me, to you." The pendant looked nice against his dark-colored t-shirt, gleaming its silver in the fading sunlight. "It looks good on you, James."

She hadn't really known how to repay his kindness, the clothes, the shoes, all of it. And shopping for others had never really been her strong suit. She simply didn't have many to shop for.

"You're welcome," Natasha said quietly, a true smile lighting her face. Her lip had almost healed, the rest of her face no longer bruised or discolored. "I wanted...to give you something that was just between us."

"I'll keep it like a promise," Bucky says, leaning in and brushing his mouth against hers lightly before pulling away. He'd done it automatically, like it was something they did all the time, and now he wonders if he ought to have done it. It seems like it might not have been appropriate.

"I know this is going to sound like a stupid question but is there anything else you need? You want a car? I've got like twenty down there you can pick from if you wanna go get yourself a new ride. It's not like I can drive them all at once anyway."

The soft kiss made her blush, but Natasha didn't refuse it. It was sweet, and she was so very hungry for affection, almost starved for it. Gently braiding her fingers together as they rested on the island's counter, trying to get her heartbeat back under control.

Then Bucky offered her a car, and Natasha just blinked at him. Before automatically shaking her head, and demurring the offer. "Oh, James, I couldn't do that. Thank you, of course, but that's just too much. Considering everything else you've done for me."

An idea occurred to her just then, and she offered it before thinking it through. "Instead of eating in here, how about making a picnic in front of the fireplace? It's chilly enough, especially if we leave the bay doors open." She couldn't stop a giggle from escaping at that thought.

"You know what? That sounds like a great idea," Bucky says, laughing softly. He's never done that with anyone in this house but Natasha makes it sound fun in the way a picnic on the beach would have been fun when he was in high school or some shit. It's sweet. He likes it.

Bucky busies himself with picking up the dishes and nods at Natasha. "Go ahead and get comfortable in there and I'll haul all this stuff in. We'll have a good time. There's a throw blanket on the chair in there."

Natasha didn't stop to analyze her odd offer as she headed to the living room and began to arrange the blankets and pillows on the plush carpet in front of the large marble fireplace. She was...simply tired of being alone all of the time; even if her relationship with Alex hadn't been the most stellar, at least someone else had been there.

And Bucky Barnes was sweet, sincere, and kind; there was no way to even begin to deny that. He'd proven himself to be a good friend, one of the best, considering, and she was willing to ignore this ill-timed attraction that had only grown since she'd 'moved in' just over a week ago. It wasn't important, but their friendship was.

By the time her host appeared in the living room, she had the soft blanket spread neatly in a perfect rectangle, and the comfortable couch pillows strategically arranged so that they might lounge in comfort, and had done so herself, although she did uncoil to take a few burdens out of his hand, chuckling at his effort to keep everything from collapsing completely.

"Goodness," the redhead remarked, placing the chips, salsa, and leftover dumpling carton on the floor before taking more, "I think you've emptied the fridge entirely, Barnes."

"Well, I didn't know what we'd want," Bucky says, grinning at her. "So I just brought a little of everything in case we needed it."

No one needs this much food but Bucky wants to make sure that Natasha always has everything she wants whether it's food or love or clothes - she deserves it.

"Is there anything else you want?"

"Champagne," she replied without thinking, automatically placing the containers and cartons in an informal buffet array on the blanket. Then glanced up, blowing a lock of red hair out of her face. "If there's a bottle already cold in the refrigerator."

Brooklyn arrived just then, enticed by the scents of half-warmed leftovers, and Natasha laughed as she shared a thick slice of ham with the pup, ruffling his ears and pulling the dog into her lap while he munched. "And a few utensils, unless we want to eat with our fingers."

"Forks and champagne, got it." Luckily, there is a bottle of champagne in the fridge and Bucky is more glad about that than he's been about anything lately. He brings the utensils out with champagne glasses and the bottle and pours them both a glass before settling down. He passes one to Natasha.

"You better not be feeding him people food. He'll never leave you alone if you do," he says, laughing softly. "You'll be his new best friend and he'll move out and leave me."

Bucky takes a sip from his champagne and he's glad it's the good stuff and not what he buys in bulk for parties. Natasha deserves the best.

By the time Bucky returned, Natasha had stripped all of the remaining ham off of the small bone and given that to Brooklyn, who was parked in front of Bucky's recliner, gnawing away happily, tail thumping. The redhead laughed lightly, taking the offered glass with a smile.

"He deserves to be spoiled," she told the musician, sipping from her glass. "A little spoiling never hurt anyone." She could testify to that, after all.

She made small sandwiches from crackers, meat, and sliced cheese, scooting back against the pillows as they ate. "This is nice. I can't remember the last time I had a picnic." A chuckle. "Even if it is inside."

"I don't think I've had a picnic since I was a kid. My parents used to let us pop a tent in the backyard and stay outside like we were camping. It was pretty great for the suburbs."

Bucky had gone to camp, of course, but that was a lot different than getting to hang out with just his sisters and friends. This feels a little more like that except it's a beautiful woman and not someone he's related to. He sees Natasha making little sandwiches of her crackers and starts doing the same thing.

"Is it bad I want you to stay forever? Not just in the guest house either. In my house."

She knew he'd grown up in the city, like her, the older brother to several younger sisters. Mind-boggling, sisters. As far as she knew, Natasha had been an only child, or at least no one had ever told her she had a sibling anywhere. No siblings, no parents. They'd grown up in such different ways.

"That sounds like fun," Natasha remarked, polishing off the last bite of her second small sandwich. After a pause, mainly to collect her thoughts after his last comment, she took another fortifying sip of champagne, and shook her head.

"...not really, I don't think. No, James, it's not bad." She had to concede, "...a little weird, maybe, but not bad." A small laugh. "Aside from the last month or so, we really don't know each other, do we."

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