ostavil | open post

She was in the process of pinning back her hair when the question caught her completely off guard. Had she said that? Dimly, she recalled that yes, yes, she had. Her expression went oddly blank for a split second, before she flushed, ducking her head a little girlishly. A contrived blush, something that had taken her ages to conquer.

"It means...it means 'my star', in English." Her mask was slowly slipping back into place; she was once more becoming the smooth, exotic creature from the night previous. "Just a little pet name we used to call each other, when we were younger." Out of all the lies she'd given him, that one had to be the largest.

As if it were nothing more, she turned on her toes and finished pinning her curls, gracefully slipping into her heels and picking up her discarded clutch. "I had a good time," she told him, honest this time, stepping back over and bending down to take a last long kiss for herself. "A very good time, James." And another.

But she made herself step back, smile appropriately, and nod towards his bedroom door. "Wanna walk me out?"

Bucky wonders how many stars she's had over the course of her life it's just a little pet name from her younger days because he's pretty damn sure it wasn't what she called her grandmother. It sounds more like something you'd call a lover and a serious one at that.

He doesn't have time to chew on it, though, because she wants to get walked out and he wants to do it. He dresses quickly in a pair of jeans that have seen better days and tugs a thick cable knit sweater over his head. It's blue, like his eyes, and is probably one of the few things he's let himself splurge on since getting made sergeant.

"I can still get you that cab, moya zveda, he says, trying the words out. He likes it, actually, but he'd only ever use it with her.

It was a little startling, hearing her own words in his mouth. It made her stomach lurch, just enough to be disturbing, and, for the first time, Natalia was actually glad she'd decided to get up and get out. This Bucky Barnes was just too damned tempting for his own good.

She paused at the door, gave him a glance over her shoulder, but had to smile because really, those words sounded beautiful on those lovely lips.

"...I'd like that, James. Spasibo." She chuckled, letting him open the door. "'Thank you', I meant." She took his arm with casual familiarity, covertly admiring that blue sweater, mostly because she knew exactly what lay beneath it. And those soft, faded jeans.

When they reached the sidewalk, however, she gave him a little tug and reached up to take his face in her hands. "You will be careful," she told him. "And come back, you hear? Promise me, James." She more than likely wouldn't be here when he did return, but he still deserved to live his life free of war, pain and death.

"Cross my heart," he says, drawing the little cross over his chest for good measure. "I'd...I'd like to write to you from the front, if you'd think that'd be all right. I don't have a girl and other than my sisters and Steve, I don't know who I would even write to. I'd like to know at least someone was thinking of me back home. Do you think I could do that?"

It's a very personal thing to ask, especially after only one night together, but he doesn't want to let Natalie go. Not like this. Not put in a cab in the early morning where she's nothing but a dream speeding down Franklin instead of something he can carry with him and hold on to. Is this just because he's getting shipped out? Bucky doesn't think so.

He hails the cab and rolls off a few bills before opening her door and bussing a kiss against her cheek. "You wanna give me your address, just call. If not...I'll be thinking about you regardless."

The request, such a simple thing, really, had her absolutely speechless, because never, in all of her training, all of her brutal, razor-sharp training, had anyone educated her on what to do with simple, perfect sincerity. Her tongue, usually so glib and quick to prevaricate, froze to the roof of her mouth, and all Natalia could do was nod, close her eyes when he smooched her cheek, squeeze his hand tightly, pull him back for a single swift kiss, then escape into the waiting taxi before she did something irrevocably unwise.

Such as stay.

But she couldn't, it simply wasn't possible. She was likely in a world of trouble over the past night's transgressions, although she hadn't technically jeopardized her mission in any way. Howard Stark was still her priority one, regardless of a certain pair of lovely blue eyes that kept intruding in her mind's eye, coupled with a smooth Brooklyn baritone that still had the power to make her knees dangerously weak.

She could never see him again. It was the wiser course. For both of their sakes.

Bucky hadn't expected to see her again, honestly, but when he gets his orders he gets another shock in a long string of them over the course of the last month. Steve's gotten recruited for some super soldier program which clearly had worked and he's supposed to be captain over an elite strike team. There's a demo expert, a stealth expert - honestly, Bucky has no idea why he's there since he's not exactly anything special in spite of being a decently ranked officer.

Steve had insisted though and had played up Bucky's scores in marksmanship back in basic so he'd been tasked to learn a couple new sniper rifles and an RPG that was so secret that he had to keep it in pieces inside a trombone case so nobody would get the bright idea to try and steal the damn thing.

One person he hadn't expected with Stark was Natalie, his Natalie, and she was running around like business as usual. Stark's a flirt and Bucky wants to break his fingers every time he touches Natalie but he's got to remember that Natalie is not, in fact, his girl. He manages to catch her during one of his rare breaks and they're semi alone.

"I didn't know you worked for him," Bucky says softly.

She'd thrown herself back into her assignment after that fateful morning. Stark's laboratory and armory had never run smoother. The busier she kept herself, the less she was able to remember. Save for when she collapsed into bed in the early morning hours, and let herself get lost in blue eyes, sweet kisses, and gentle hands. But in truth, Stark's work for the military had all of his staff working long hours, irregular and secretive.

But the biggest shock she'd never expected to have occurred some eight days after she left James Barnes standing on the sidewalk; Stark had agreed to outfit one of the Army's new elite units with some of his prototype weaponry and defensive arrays, and she was more than a little stunned to nearly run right into a pair of baby-blue eyes she'd recognize blindfolded.

Thank God Howard didn't give her much time to dwell, however; they had to outfit several commandos in less than forty-eight hours. Which required precise measurements for each soldier. She worked close at Howard's elbow, taking down his rambling notes and making sense of his scatter-brained babblings for explanation later.

And naturally, she found herself in a small alcove with a certain Sergeant while the others drifted here and there, Howard and the Major having gone off to tend to some small but important issue in his office. She was hyper-aware of those eyes on her, felt the weight of their touch, even. But she was determined to keep her demeanor politely professional, even when the opening salvo came.

She glanced up from her clipboard, gave him a slight smile, and shrugged lightly. "You didn't ask."

"But you had to have known I was being recruited," Bucky presses on, not really sure where they stand. He'd thought he'd get orders to the front, not something special like this, and he has no idea how or why he's ended up with Stark's elite unit other than being friends with Steve and possibly through Natalie. He thinks it's much more likely it's the former; Steve could sell him as an ice supplier to eskimos and be successful.

"I'm supposed to get fitted for some new kind of armor. I'm not going to be wearing fatigues," Bucky says, shrugging a little. "They're making me a sniper because I've got a good eye and steady hands." It's sort of a strange thing to think about, being out of the way of hand to hand combat while Steve's in the thick of it, but he's got his orders.

"Anyway, I don't mean to keep you. I was just surprised to see you again because I figured...well, as much as I wanted, I figured you didn't want to bother considering my number'd be coming up soon.

"I know. I need your measurements. Turn around." She unwrapped a measuring tape from her wrist and began taking measurements, across the shoulders, down each arm, torso, waist, hips, and length of leg. She kept her movements precise and professional, never mind how her hands wanted to linger, perhaps wander, reacquaint themselves with the body beneath that dress uniform.

"Howard didn't get the updated roster until late last night. He's been running himself ragged, trying to fill all these requisition orders." She made a few notes on her clipboard. "I knew about Erskine's experiment with Captain Rogers, Howard had to assist on that one, since it was his machine that they used..." and here she paused, pen in hand. "...but I didn't know Rogers was your friend, James."

And she hadn't.

A brief glance across the room revealed the other soldiers kibitzing among themselves; Stark and the Major were still in his office, now with Captain Rogers with them, too.

She crossed her arms over the clipboard, holding it against her chest. "...it wasn't like that. That I didn't want to bother, James." She kept her voice low, hushed. "I just...didn't think it was the best decision. You were leaving, and..."

"Natalie! Natalie, come here a minute, would ya?"

Howard's voice jolted her out of her thoughts, and she immediately stiffened, whirled around in a flare of red curls and hurried over, holding out her notes for Stark to take and all but usher her into the office with the others.

No, it's for the better, Bucky thinks, watching as Natalie strolls off toward Stark. He's famous for skirt chasing, Howard Stark, and whatever charms Bucky might have offered in bed probably weren't anything near what Natalie was getting from Howard Stark - personal relationship or not. Natalie seems smart enough to be on her own merit and not just a pretty piece for Howard to look at so it's probably the job that's keeping her busy and nothing else. Still.

He ends up going to dinner with Steve who, predictably, figured out something was wrong and when Bucky had pointed out it was girl trouble, Steve made the wise decision to politely bow out. Neither of them were good with girls, it seemed. Still, Bucky has a few ideas and when he gets a moment to sneak away in a day or two, he gets Natalie a box of chocolate and a dozen roses. She's got a little temporary office set up just outside Stark's so he makes his way there, glad to see her head bent over paperwork.

"Do you have a minute, Natalie?"

She'd been buried in Stark's transcripts for the past three hours. Her eyes hurt, her wrist cramped, but she had to get these notes transposed before close of business, because Howard and his entire staff would be headed for Nazi Germany in just thirty-six short hours. So she soldiered on, pausing only for the occasional swallow of lukewarm coffee here and there.

A knock on the door facing brought her blinking out of Howard's scrawling script, and she blinked in surprised to see James Barnes just outside, flowers and a predictable box in his hands. One of her eyebrows went up, and she leaned back in her chair slightly, letting her cramped wrist rest on the desk for a moment.

"Sergeant Barnes. How can I help you?"

Howard was puttering about somewhere, working on adjustments for the Commandos' final designs, and Jarvis was lurking as usual, to say nothing of the military brass constantly coming and going. Sometimes it seemed like a Moscow train station, rather than a highly-classified scientific laboratory.

It's perfectly professional, the nice and crisp Sergeant Barnes, but Bucky feels like it shouldn't be. He's been with her, tangled up in her for a whole night and he feels like he ought to at least be Bucky if he's not the James that she'd favored that night. Still, he's here with flowers and candy and there's no way to pretend they aren't hers. It'd be stupid to even attempt a lie,

"Just thought maybe I should bring you something to perk you up," Bucky says finally. "Probably too forward of me and I know it but I couldn't - I just wanted to get you something. Spoil you a little bit."

As far as he's seen at Stark's compound so far, he's the only one interested in Natalie. "I wanted to get you something to tell you I enjoyed our night out, moya zveda. Did I say it right?"

She knew she should stop this. Shut him down cold and never, ever see him again. Because he was dangerous. Not physically or professionally, but dangerous all the same. It was his goodness, his sincerity. She couldn't afford it. No matter how much she might yearn for it.

So it took her completely by surprise when she found herself rising from her chair, coming around the desk to invite him into her small closet-sized office, taking the presents from him and placing both on her desk, though she did pause to sniff at the lovely flowers. Then she gently closed the door, flipped its tiny lock, and pulled closed the blinds on both the outward facing windows and the window in the hallway.

Then she was in his arms, shoving the cap off of his head to sink her fingers into his dark hair, pulling him down to meet her lips in a desperate, messy kiss. "Moya zvezda," she corrected breathlessly. "I've missed you, James. What took you so long?"

"Zvezda, he corrects himself, trying to remember the pronunciation. He thinks he might ought to get a Russian dictionary at this point if he's going to date Natalie. And oh, is he going to date her. In his mind, there's no reason not to date while he's training here with Stark.

"I was... I didn't think you were still interested," Bucky says. He realizes it's stupid almost as soon as he says it, though, and draws her into another long kiss to mask his embarrassment.

"Didn't know how to make it clear I was."

“It was clear enough,” she whispered, kissing him again. God, but she’d missed the taste of his mouth, those sweet lips that were so soft to kiss. “I just...had to be careful,” she tried to explain. And that was true in more than just the obvious. Her handlers had warned her over and over again about the danger of lingering relationships; take what you need from the mark and move on. It is the only way. But she was a woman still, and a young one, at that, no matter how polished or perfectly-trained to be a consummate chameleon.

“And this really isn’t a good idea, James,” she told him, feathering her fingertips over his face. “Howard and the entire staff will be leaving tomorrow night for Germany.” She wasn’t sure if the Commandos were in the know about their upcoming assignment, but if their superiors had any brains in their heads... well. “So our time is really short, unfortunately.”

Natalia forced herself to step back, out of his arms, though her hands lingered in his. “I just...didn’t want us to get too attached, then have nothing at all.” And that, at least, was the absolute truth.

Bucky smiles a little, soft and more than a bit sad. If they ship out to Germany tomorrow, there's a chance he won't ever see her again. He's going to Germany too but from what he understands he'll be at the front while Stark is going to be just inside Switzerland where neither Allied nor Axis troops can set foot in due to the neutrality pact. They'll be safe, which means Natalie will be safe. The trick now is keeping himself in one piece so he can come back to her and oh, he's coming back to her.

Bucky takes her and lifts them to his lips, kissing them softly and spending way too much time doing it. They're in New York tonight, which means he can ask her out the way she ought to be asked out.

"Come to dinner with me, Natalie. Let me bring you out on an actual, proper date before we have to say goodbye. Please? We might never see each other again."

Natalia knew she ought to refuse. Let him down gently, close all of this off before he inevitably got hurt. Even if Stark was going to be working in close quarters with the Army's new elite crack unit, there still wasn't room for this sort of relationship. It would get him killed, and her compromised. As if she wasn't compromised enough already. But thankfully she'd spotted no observers nearby - her handlers were unaware of just how well she knew their silent faces in the crowds - so she presumed her cover was still intact.

And besides, her traitorous mind supplied, wouldn't this sort of thing just sell her position even further? A pretty, young secretary and a handsome soldier; why, it was practically the rage around town just now.

Bucky kissed and nuzzled at her fingers, not realizing just how weak he was making her knees. She turned them over in his light grasp, the better to brush her fingertips against his face and mouth, covetously wanting more of his tender touches. They both might die tomorrow. Their future was anything but certain. And she still, against her better judgement, wanted him.

Natalia bit her lower lip.

"...all right." A door slammed down the hallway, making her startle slightly. "But I have to get this paperwork done first, Howard's waiting on the transcripts."

"That's fine. I'll swing by later to come get you and if you're not done, I'll wait until you are," Bucky says. He leers at her a moment, which isn't his style, and he captures her wrist in his hand so she can't take hers away. Her fingers are up against his lips and he parts them to draw her fingers in lightly and suck a bit.

"See you tonight, then? I won't wear my uniform," Bucky says. "I'll wear another suit and maybe we won't attract too much attention from being off base less than twenty four hours before getting deployed. Pretty sure they don't look kindly on that."

His ogling gaze had an eyebrow going up, but she didn't chastise for him for it; if anything, she took it as a challenge, and didn't hesitate to stroke his tongue with her index finger, a tantalizing tease. He should know better than to toss a gauntlet, the silly boy.

"Won't that get you in trouble?" She'd thought enlisted personnel were required to wear their uniforms when out and about if they were on active duty. "But if you think you can sneak past your upper brass, then by all means." Natalia took a step closer, pulling her fingers from his mouth and sliding a wet digit across his lovely lips, her own gaze going a little dark and sultry in turn.

"I know what you look like without it, after all."

"Baby girl, if you don't want me getting into trouble with you, that's long since past. I'll wear my uniform, though. I don't want to get slapped the night before I have to go to Germany. I know a nice Italian place I want to take you to anyway. Need to dress up a little and I haven't worn my suit since basic. Might be a little snug now."

He gives her another longing look and when he returns, much later, he's dressed in his dress uniform and not the fatigues he'd been in during the day. He's freshly shaved and worn a little of his carefully-hoarded Old Spice because he feels like he ought to really make it special for the last time he's likely to see Natalia.

"Stark still piling paperwork on you, doll? Or can we get out of here?"

She'd just come out of Stark's office after handing off the transcripts, adjusting Howard's schedule, making a list of things he'd need to pack and going over it with Jarvis, and running the armory chief through the inventory of what to take and what to leave when they departed tomorrow night. White-tired around the eyes, her skirt wrinkled and her blouse a little haphazard, Natalia rounded the corner back to her own closet-cum-office, and nearly collided with her "date", grinning and looking like a million bucks.

Her weary eye nevertheless took in the small details; his slanted grin, brilliant smile, uniform pressed and creased to inspection-perfection, the shine on his gleaming shoes, the absolutely clean edge of his jaw where he'd no doubt shaved probably ten minutes ago. No doubt about it, James Barnes cleaned up pretty damn good.

And he smelled absolutely edible, she realized, stepping a little closer to let one of the construction teams pass in the narrow hallway. One of the workers leered at her as they trooped by, clicking his tongue and giving her a salacious wink, both of which she ignored, albeit she did roll her eyes, exasperated, but nodded at James as she opened the door and stepped into her workspace.

"Just delivered the last. He'll be packing tonight and all day tomorrow, and gave me the night off to do my own, so I'm officially done for the day." Shouldering her purse, she started for the door, then hesitated, glancing aside, suddenly nervous. "Um...is it okay if...I mean, would you mind if we went by my place first?" She gestured at her overall rumpled appearance. "I'm a mess, and you look...wonderful. I need to change clothes, at least, maybe redo my hair, fix my face...something."

She ran out of words and stood there covertly wringing her hands, a little nonplussed.

"I'm not seeing anything to complain about," Bucky says, giving her a leisurely once-over. "But I don't mind swinging by your place if you want to powder your nose. Don't worry about a wallet, either - I'm taking care of everything."

He gets paid damn well, as an officer, and he should be paying for anything she wants on this date. He opens the door for her and guides her out onto the street before hailing a cab.

"Tell 'im the address, baby girl, and we can get going."

She locked her office door and fled with Bucky in tow, before anything else could intrude. Sliding into the cab without hesitation, Natalia gave the driver an address in uptown Manhattan, not too far from their current location. Jarvis usually drove her to and from the laboratory, but she'd assured him that she didn't need a chauffeur tonight and tomorrow morning; she'd be perfectly capable of finding her own way. He'd disapproved, but hadn't argued.

Once they'd arrived at her building, she climbed out of the cab, thankful for James's strong arm. The doorman greeted Miss Rushman respectfully, doffing his cap and politely inquiring as to her guest. She gave him a dollar from her purse, thanking him, and informing the old man that she and her companion would be going out to dinner then returning quite late, so if he'd please keep an eye out, she'd be grateful.

Stark had appropriated a modest dwelling for her on the tenth floor, a corner apartment that was sparsely furnished despite its renovated elegance; there were few keepsakes, and just enough furniture to be functional. The place did sport a beautiful view of the city skyline, however, and Natalia invited her soldier inside, immediately kicking off her work shoes as she turned on the lights.

"So...I don't really live with a roommate," she confessed, placing her purse on the small table and slowly turning to face Bucky. "I don't...I've never...really brought anyone else here, James." Just to have something to do, she rested her fingers on the back of the upholstered chair. "Working for Howard Stark is its own brand of paranoia, and security measures are...well...strict." One way of putting it.

"Does it--," and God how she hated having to portray this image; the shy, earnest schoolgirl, "--are you mad?"

Bucky frowns for a moment, trying to work out why he would potentially be angry that Natalia hadn't ever brought a guy back to her place before. He usually brings girls back to his unless he's invited up and it's not such a strange thing.

"Why would I be mad about it? You're just telling me that Stark wants to keep track of his people, which - it doesn't shock me. He's an inventor. He'd never want anyone to see what he's working on and anyone who potentially had access, he'd keep them close so they couldn't sneak off with his plans."

It doesn't make sense to him, at all, and he feels his brow furrowing a little. He steps forward, more into Natalia's space, and lays his hand over hers on the chair.

Natalia turned her hand over when his came to rest over hers, interlacing their fingers together. "Most guys would be put out that their girl wasn't entirely truthful, James." Or so she'd thought. It seemed she learned something new about these "Americans" every single day.

She had to bite the inside of her lip tightly, however, because she was currently deeply involved in doing exactly what he'd just said. Unbeknownst to Stark, of course, as well as the entire American military. It had never occurred to them that a pretty face could be more dangerous than a thousand dropped bombs. Well, they would learn.

But for now, she simply lifted her face, parting her lips as she rose on her toes for a soft, lingering kiss, giving a slight moan at his sweet, sweet taste. "I'm glad you understand," she whispered, then slipped away, stepping around him to head further into her apartment.

"Give me fifteen minutes," she called from the hallway. "Make yourself...comfortable, I guess. Be right back."

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