ostavil | open post

By the time Bucky's mother got there, word had spread around that he'd proposed and suddenly the food, the dogs, Bucky and his guitar, and everything else was of no interest but Natasha's left hand commanded the whole crowd. Everyone was astonished that he'd used the family ring except Bucky's mother who looked just a bit smug.

"I gave it to him yesterday," she says, pleased to know that he'd gone on and asked and she hadn't had to keep the secret. Seeing Bucky's apron, she smacks a kiss on his left cheek and Becca leaves a perfect lipstick print on his right before giving Natasha a knowing look.

"C'mon, Natasha. You've got to Kiss the Cook too."

Turning into a marble statue got her through the "Barnes Air Raid", as Bucky had chucklingly coined it, but Natasha paled when Becca insisted that she, too, grant the Cook a Kiss. But it was expected, wasn't it; she was his fiancé now. Bought and bonded. That thought soured her entirely, but Natasha swallowed it, and nodded silently.

Then stepped over to her soon-to-be husband, put her arms around his neck, closed her eyes, and lightly pressed her lips to his, closed and innocent. If they were going to pull this off, they were going to have to make it look good. Believable. Sincere.

"Thanks, babe. Now let me go so I can feed all these people, huh?" Bucky's pretty damn good at smiling where Natasha's concerned so it's no trouble to flash her a brilliant one while she's still close to him. The excuse of the food keeps him away from her for a while and his sisters are all over her. Great.

Once everything is laid out, though, it's time to eat and he can draw Natasha away from the rest of the crowd. They can deal with it. Fiancees often talk by themselves, right?

"I told you they'd be awful," Bucky says, sighing a little. "So I'm really sorry for the uh...enthusiasm."

She smiled appropriately, laughed when necessary, and answered all questions as much as she could, which...wasn't, really, because she honestly had no idea about wedding colors, honeymoon destinations, bridesmaids, vows, reception dinners...any of that.

When the crowd broke up to help cart the food out to the patio, Natasha found herself briefly tugged away, leaving her and James alone in the kitchen for a short moment. He apologized, but she shook her head, shrugging lightly.

"It's all right. I more or less expected it, knowing how boisterous your relatives are. It's fine, James." She picked up the large bowl of Winnie's potato salad and smiled, again. It felt frozen on her lips. "Bring the dinner rolls, will you?"

Bucky gets the dinner rolls and draws up as close as he can, pressing his lips up against her ear so they're not overheard and that they look as natural as possible while talking. It kills two birds with one stone considering they look like a couple in love if they're whispering back and forth.

"I'm still sorry," he murmurs. "And I'll make it up to you later. I don't know how I'll do it, but I'll do it, and you'll be a lot happier than you are right now."

He has this entire afternoon to come up with something.

His proximity made her shiver, because she could smell him, clean and delicious in her nose. Natasha ducked her head and blushed, well used to this charade. "Don't worry about me, James," she told him sotto voce. "It's fine," again she said. "But...when do you want to tell them about...this?" She gestured to her abdomen with the bowl.

"Might as well get it all out in the open, right? Since everyone's already so happy, it can't hurt. Maybe, during dessert?" When there would be chocolate mouse and chocolate martinis, dry for her, alas. "Your sister will have the whales out off the shelf singing along."

"The sooner the better," he agrees. Food goes as planned, at least, and when the desserts and cocktails go out, Bucky taps at the edge of his martini glass with a plastic knife and it clinks just a little bit. Maybe it's not the classiest it could be but it is definitely better than just yelling it out.

"So, Natasha and I have some news. We're...well, I'm not but she's pregnant. There's gonna be a new Barnes in a couple months. She's having a touchy stomach right now, though, so don't go trampling her. Nice handshakes are fine, right Natasha?"

Becca squeals, a high-pitched noise that sets the dogs to howling and everyone else looks thrilled to death.

The news of her pregnancy had the predicted affect: everyone went berserk with glee and congratulations, and Natasha held up for as long as she could, but it wasn't too long after sunset that she pleaded exhaustion and headed upstairs for some much needed peace and quiet. Her stomach was again unsettled, and she placed a hand over her abdomen, glowering down at it before heading into the en suite bathroom for some Tums.

She'd taken residence in one of the guest rooms, as she desperately needed the space away from Bucky Barnes' good-sense jamming field, but she still felt like a visitor in a hotel. And, lying down atop the covers, her shoes still on, Natasha realized, fully for the first time, that she was right back in the same predicament she'd been with Alex. Only, this time, there was a third person who was going to be so important to that relationship, she couldn't even fathom how much.

But, she was resigned to it now; the baby was well on its way, all healthy and active, according to her obstetrician, even though Natasha simply couldn't muster the same enthusiasm as her medical professionals. Her belly was still mostly flat, though her hips had gotten a little wider, but it was her breasts that sometimes ached miserably. They were heavy, weighing her down no matter how tight she fastened her bra. She could definitely find a new respect for large-busted women, now.

Gingerly rolling over to her back, she winced as she cupped the heavy mounds, then ran one hand flat over her stomach, not at all surprised to feel the tiniest rise around her midriff. Yep. Right on schedule. Baby Barnes was nothing of not punctual.

Natasha had escaped back into the house long ago and once Bucky is able to get rid of everyone he heads back inside to do the clean up. It takes him a little while with all the things to go into the fridge and all the serving trays to wash but once he's done, he hangs the apron up and heads upstairs. He peeks into the guest room before going to his own.

"Hey, how you holdin' up? I'm not having another one of those for a while," he promises. "Too overwhelming to have that many people swarming over you anyway. You need anything? I can go get it so you don't have to get up."

This is half his child, after all, and he wants to take care of Natasha for more reasons than her being pregnant by him.

Her eyes opened when she heard Bucky's voice at the door, and Natasha blinked at him. She'd been dozing, and stifled a little yawn. "Is everyone gone? I was going to come down and help you clean up..." But she gave a little groan when she tried to sit up, and flopped back against the pillows.

"Urrg, I ache. God. I hurt all over, and I have no idea why. I haven't run a marathon, last I checked. But it feels like I did." One arm slung over her eyes, Natasha groaned again, feeling so heavy and disgusting.

"Is there any ibuprofen? Or some Tylenol?" Her doctor had told her to be sparse with the pain meds, but if she really needed something, to take it. She'd also recommended lots of hot baths for the aches, soaks in Epsom salts, and even a few massages here and there.

"...and my feet hurt too, weirdly enough."

"What about Tylenol and a foot rub? I've found myself with an abundance of time now that I've kicked everyone out of my house for the night," Bucky says, dangling it in front of her. Maybe Natasha doesn't love him and maybe she never will but he loves this baby and he loves her and part of taking care of the baby is taking care of her. So he'll offer it and see if she accepts it.

He goes to get a glass of water and the Tylenol and just in case she accepts the foot rub, a minty lotion he likes for himself whenever he's feeling his age.

"Tylenol and water for the lady," he says, putting them on the bedside table. "And foot massage offer still open."

Edited 2022-01-31 03:03 (UTC)

"That sounds...great, actually." What was the harm in letting him rub her feet? She wouldn't have to do it. She took the pills and water gratefully, swallowing them and half of the water in a few gulps. Then Natasha fell again to her back, kicking off her Keds and wiggling her toes in their thin socks.

"Feel free, Mr. Barnes. I might lie here and go right to sleep, but you just keep on, sir. I'll thank you for it...mmm, tomorrow, probably." Her comfy yoga pants had flared ends, so she pulled both legs upwards to bare her calves, too. Just to give him enough room, of course.

"You don't gotta be formal with me," Bucky says. He figures they're well past formal, considering they're gonna have a kid together and get married. Still, he tugs off her socks and lays them to the side before squeezing out a little lotion and warming it between his hands before touching her.

"Someone gave me this as a present and I hardly ever use it except after a long concert because my hands cramp up, you know? Never used it on anyone else so you've gotta tell me how it feels. Come to think - I've never given anyone a foot massage either."

The initial touch tickled a little, and Natasha's feet wiggled slightly, but it didn't take her long to exhale a long, deep sigh, relax into the pillows, and let him work. The lotion smelled wonderful; a little minty, a little tangy, and it was warm from the heat of Bucky's hands, but it tingled as it soaked into her skin. Truly wonderful.

"...feels good," Natasha murmured, head turned aside and long red curls splayed out on the covers beneath her. Bucky's hands were rough, but gentle, kneading her sore arches just the right way. A little low moan escaped, lashes closed over green eyes. "I'll give you three hours to stop, all right?"

"Three hours, huh? That's being generous, babe," Bucky says, pressing his thumbs against the arch of one small foot in a way that he thinks might feel nice to her. Every part of Natasha is beautiful, that's just a fact, but there's something intimate about doing something so far from sexual.

"What if my foot massages take three and a half hours, huh? You gonna kick me out of here if I go over? Because really, that extra half hour might be the part that's the best."

The press of his thumbs made her breath catch and her toes curl, but God, it felt so good! Both feet to her ankles tingled very pleasantly, and Natasha chuckled on the exhale, smiling softly. "I'd never do that," she gently admonished. "You can go as long as you want, James."

Too late did she realize the subtle innuendo in her response, but opted to just let it slide. This wasn't anything overly sexual, but it was nicely intimate, and the gentle camaraderie was what Natasha had actually been craving. Alex had never done anything like this for her. Not even at the end of her longest days, or her hardest days, had he taken the initiative to pamper her, not even a little.

She opened one eye and glanced down at him, at the foot of the bed, her feet in his hands. "...thank you, by the way, for doing this."

"You don't gotta thank me for stuff I wanna do anyway," Bucky says, waving that off. "Just because you don't wanna...be with me doesn't mean I don't care about you. I wanna take care of you as much as I can."

And, honestly, is the truth. It's not even a sexual thing, wanting to take care of her, and he's glad she's letting him do it.

"You deserve to feel good."

Her laugh this time was a little brittle, self-depreciating. "You may be the only person on the planet to think so," Natasha quipped back. "But...thank you anyway." For not throwing her aside now that she was carrying his child. For giving her a place to stay. For even wanting to be a part of this new person's life.

"Why haven't you gotten married and had kids before now?" The question just came out before she could bite it back, but honestly, she'd been curious from the start. He was good-looking, gorgeous really, rich as Croesus, and truly, she'd discovered, a very sweet guy. Bucky Barnes deserved the absolute best, and yet he'd settled on her.

"Never found the right girl," Bucky says, lifting his head and giving her a broad grin. The right fit had never been there before Natasha and he doesn't think he'll ever find it anywhere else, especially now that she's going to be the mother of his child. That's a bond no one can break.

"Tried, you know? Dated all these models and actresses because I thought anyone who wasn't famous would be too overwhelmed by all this shit but it didn't work because they were worried I was more famous than them or that I was jealous of them and I just wanted someone I could trust. Someone I could...someone to have kids with and bring to meet my family and just spend time with. You were the only one that fit right."

"Oh." Natasha supposed she hadn't really thought about it in such a context. For all of her mingling with the elite, she'd always tried to keep herself at arms length, to never get intimately involved with anyone in such a way. Mainly because high society had always seemed so...superficial to her, it hadn't really appealed as a lifestyle. And, in those rarefied circles, relationships never really lasted.

She reached for one of the smaller pillows, shifting to one side and holding it tight.

"It's...it's just so weird," she murmured, tucking her head to she could see him clearly, "that a celebrity like you, someone like you, that everyone knows, would even look twice at someone like me." A small shrug. "I've never considered myself all that great of a catch, honestly."

"I'm just a person, Natasha," Bucky says. He stops rubbing her feet for now and just sits on the edge of the bed so he can talk to her. She seems to like to beat herself up and that's not something Bucky believes in and especially not when she does it.

"Famous or not, I'm a person. I've got hopes and wishes and wants and dislikes and all of that shit too. And, well, you know. When I look at you right now, I see everything I've ever wanted. Saw it before you were pregnant with my kid and I see it now that you are. I fucked it up, sure, but maybe I'm getting another chance. Maybe we'll only ever be friends. But I don't regret being with you that night. It's what I wanted."

When Bucky let go of her feet, Natasha tucked her legs up beneath her, still holding onto the pillow. Every time he said things like this, she never had any idea of how to respond. Or even what to say in return. Thus, again, she settled for saying nothing, just pressing the top of the pillow beneath her nose and gazing at him over it, lashes dark around her light eyes.

Her stomach still churned, but somehow, Natasha didn't think it was because of the pregnancy. Well, maybe she could be honest, at least this time. With both Bucky and with herself.

"...neither do I," she managed to whisper, pulling the pillow back just enough to get the words out. "Regret it, I mean." She stared at Bucky solidly, not breaking their gaze. "...it was what I wanted, too."

"Then I'm very sorry I fucked it up afterward," Bucky says, petting her shin for want of anything else. Natasha has drawn in on herself and he figures it's time for him to stop talking because he's gone and ruined the damn mood (again) and he gives her a soft, vulnerable smile.

"But I'm happy you don't regret it. That would be...worse than anything, I think. I'd never be able to make up for that no matter what I did."

"James," Natasha sighed, putting the pillow aside, "you didn't. Fuck it up, I mean." She sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed to sit beside him. And very gently slide her fingers into his, resting on his thigh. "You didn't, so quit saying that you did." She pushed her hair back with her free hand.

"I just...I just wasn't ready. I'm still not, if I'm completely honest. But, not much choice now, is there." Her free hand rested briefly on her belly. "And you just want so much...it's like there'll be nothing left of myself for me." She gave his hand a squeeze to keep him from talking. "It's okay to want that; that's how it's supposed to be, right? i just need...I just need time."

A corner of her mouth turned up, wryly sardonic. "We can't both be pathetic at the same time, can we?"

There'll be nothing left of myself for me. Bucky hadn't realized it felt that way and now he thinks back over, well, everything and he realizes that he hadn't really considered that at all. Shit. He has fucked it up but in a different way, he guesses, and knowing how you fucked it is usually a good way to fix it.

"You don't have to marry me," Bucky says softly. "I'm taking all your choices away and you're stuck all over again only it's worse because you're pregnant. My family will just have to understand it and I'll tell the press to fuck off because it isn't their business. You're not ready and I can't...forcing you to marry me is pretty shitty. Especially when I'm the one who wants it so much."

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