Bucky hadn't realized he'd be flying over with Stark until, well, about an hour before it happened and he's still a little stunned. He still has four photos from a photo booth tucked in the pocket of his new uniform and he feels like if he looks at Natalia directly he's going to make a goddamn fool of himself.
Instead, he dutifully walks past where Agent Carter and Natalia are working in the first set of seats and plunks down in a window seat where he's joined by Steve a moment later. Steve, too, is avoiding the front of the plane and that's easier to talk about than his own problem.
"Figured you'd be up there looking over Agent Carter's shoulder," Bucky says mildly, watching as Steve rubs the back of his neck and looks down at his boots. After a moment, though, Steve strikes back.
"Could ask you why you're avoiding Stark's personal assistant. The redhead thing is known, Buck. No one is going to be shocked if you make a pass at her." Bucky falls quiet because he's made more than a pass at Natalia Rushman and he feels like everyone has to know it with how embarrassed he is. Steve picks up the track he's laying down.
"You have made a pass at her." Bucky exhales sharply and gives Steve a sharp look.
"Unless you want me to go tell Agent Carter about how much you stare at her when she's not looking, you'll keep your mouth shut, Rogers."
Steve lifts his hands, palms up, and tries to look innocent. "Secret's safe," he says. "But they're taking a break now and she's headed straight for you, Buck."
Once Howard had reached cruising speed, he'd called Natalia up to the cockpit for a brief word, and she'd returned to share the information with Agent Carter, then the two women had shuffled through papers for a moment, until Peggy handed over a folded pamphlet with a polite nod and a brief smile. Taking it, Natalia made her way through the slightly crowded airplane, approaching the Captain and the Sergeant with a sweet, professional smile.
"Captain Rogers, Agent Carter and Colonel Phillips need a word, if you wouldn't mind?" Ever observant, she didn't miss the slight flush that stained Rogers's cheeks at the mention of Peggy, nor the look of brief but sheer panic that assailed America's Cheekbones before he nodded, gulped, and stood up, squaring his shoulders. She politely moved aside to let him pass, afterward sliding into the vacant next to her lover.
"Sergeant Barnes," she greeted politely, mainly for the benefit of Dugan and Jacques, right across the aisle. "Comfortable? It's a long flight across the Atlantic."
"You did that on purpose," Bucky says, but it doesn't have any heat behind it. "I bet there's absolutely no reason Steve needs to go up there with Peggy and you just wanted to get him out of that seat." There's the added bonus of Steve looking as embarrassed as Bucky feels and he'll ride that train for a little while. He thinks that his feelings for Natalia must be written all over his face and he doesn't want Jacques and Dugan to know about it.
Still, she's in the aisle seat and he's in the window so at least his face is a little bit blocked. "Can I do anything for you, Ms. Rushman? Need me to sign anything or uh, I don't know. I don't know what all you handle for Stark. I figured it was all legal stuff." The joke doesn't work as well when he can't find the punchline and he hates how tongue-tied he gets around her. He lowers his voice to a whisper and says his next words very deliberately.
"Ya khochu tebya, Natalia. I say that right or did I mangle it all up with my accent?"
"There is, actually." She switched a few papers on her clipboard to show him. "An aerial illustration of where you're being deployed, and Phillips wanted to go over any possible interferences with the terrain, since it'll be new to all of you. He thought Captain Rogers might have some ideas as to how to maneuver."
But she hid an impish grin, saving it just for him as she tilted her head toward his to whisper, "But you're partially right - it is adorable to see him get all flustered and shy around Peggy. She adores him, but they're both too caught up in the work to admit it."
Then she cleared her throat, straightened in her seat, and picked up her clipboard again. "Actually, I handle most of Howard's written correspondence, write his schedule, make his equipment and supply orders, remind him to eat, and run interference on any 'untoward socializing' that might crop up every now and then." Natalia rolled her eyes with a mildly exasperated sigh. "He's a genius, true, but he's still a rich playboy who's about eleven years old."
Since she was sitting on the aisle seat, Natalia slowly lowered her clipboard to her lap, held her pen in her right hand, and eased her left between their seats, covertly seeking Bucky's to thread his fingers with hers when he leaned in enough to whisper at her ear. The rush of heat those words in that voice sent coursing through her was almost a tangible thing, enough to have her breath catching and a gentle flush staining her cheeks, hidden by a sudden fall of crimson.
She shook her head, red curls gently swinging, and gave his hand a covert squeeze. "No, it sounded...good enough." Thank God she was sitting with her knees pressed tightly together. "...better than last night, moya zvezda..."
"Got a dictionary. I don't know how good it'll be, considering there's no grammar, but I can try and learn it." There's a for you left unsaid and he hopes she can pick up on it. He squeezes her hand back and wishes she could sit in this seat the whole time. Steve's gonna come back, though, and he's going to be trading his girl for his best friend.
"You wouldn't happen to have anything in that clipboard that says where I'm going, do you? They've been keeping everything locked up as far as our assignments and frankly, I'd rather know where I'm getting shot at and by who."
He knows Europe since he's on this flight and not one over the Pacific but that's about it. "I was hoping I would get deployed over here, though, and not some island in the middle of the ocean. Get some sightseeing done, right?"
Unfortunately, she couldn't just lean over and kiss those soft, sweet lips, so she settled for licking her own, hoping for a stray taste of him somewhere in her mouth. "You'll pick it up quickly," she predicted, running the pad of her thumb over the back of his hand.
But she shook her head to his next question. "That's one of the things they're discussing, up there," she told him, nodding at the front of the plane. "I do know that all of you will be in close proximity, as Stark will be supplying your weapons and ammunition himself." She held up one page, skimmed it, then let it fall again. "And all of your supplies will be coming through his lab, so the Army has to stay in close contact." At least, for now.
"All of the weaponry you'll be learning and using are prototypes. Both Howard and the Army brass are interested to know how they'll perform in the field, and whether or not mass production will be feasible." And several of those design plans were already on her docket to retrieve, but that wasn't anyone's business but her own, now was it?
Then she lowered her voice, waiting until Dugan got up from his own seat and made his way towards the rear of the plane. "But I'm personally hoping you'll be assigned to the base right across the river, James. It's only about three miles from Howard's laboratory."
"Right across the river, huh? I guess that means I can come visit," Bucky says. The idea of it blooms in his chest a little and he hopes it's true. He hopes he'll somehow get assigned right there so he can ensure that Natalia is safe and that he'll be able to see her throughout the war. It's too good an assignment to be true, though, so he doesn't want to put too much stock in it. Steve might get assigned there, or Dugan, or Jacques.
"Would you let a soldier cross into your neutral borders, Ms. Rushman? I'm not supposed to be in Switzerland, you know. Constitutes an act of war. I'd have to sneak over."
And, he suspects, if he's stationed at that base across the river, he's going to cross over that border so many times that he might as well just live in Switzerland.
She started to answer, but before she could, the intercom dinged, and Stark's voice floated over the air. "Natalie, would you bring file box 125457.A.C up from the cargo hold, please? Thanks, dolly." Natalia rolled her eyes again, but a smile teased her lips; typical Howard. She unbuckled her seat belt, placed her clipboard aside, and inquired of her lover, "Give me a hand, Sergeant Barnes? I believe that particular box is buried under a few heavier ones, and I might need a bit of help getting it out."
The cargo hold was crammed to capacity, but she'd insisted to Howard that they'd need some room to walk about down below, so thankfully there was a small walkway between the rows of crated equipment, file boxes, and other odds and ends. Natalia descended the ladder first, switching on the light and trying to remember just where she'd stored all of the hard copies. But the latch of the cargo hold door had her turning around, biting at her lower lip as she just stared at her beautiful lover, and her heart began beating faster. And harder.
"You probably do actually need my help," Bucky says, looking at the state of the cargo hold. He'd figured it was just an excuse for Natalia to get him alone for a few minutes outside the eyes of anyone else but this cargo hold is jam packed and he can see why she might need some help getting out this box of Howard's. Still, it's not something he's really concerned with right this second. Not with Natalia in a blouse and skirt that looked painted on, anyway.
"You think we can steal a minute down here before we have to get back up there?" Because Bucky can think of a couple things he could down here even if they've got limited time. He draws closer to her, hooking his arm around her to pull her up flush against him. She feels good against his body and he grins at her.
"I wanna kiss you, Natalia. You gonna let me do that or do I need to make sure you're not mussed up?"
There was zero resistance when Bucky snagged her; the second he reached out for her, she was moving towards him, her arms lifting to coil around his neck and the rest of her automatically fitting against him, snug and perfect. "Kiss me," she breathed, two heartbeats before her mouth found his, and she whimpered into his mouth, lifting a smooth bare knee to hitch around his thigh.
Dimly, Natalia felt her back hit the edges of the packed crates, but she didn't care. James's mouth was on hers, hungry eager tongues sliding together, and his hands held her close, supple but almost reverent. Waking up beside him earlier this morning seemed a lifetime ago, even though she'd slept and slept well cradled in his strong arms. It had been agony, spending the morning with him knowing she'd have to let him go sooner rather than never.
But she silently thanked the American military economy, because she could steal him away for this private moment, sating her unyielding craving for him, at least for a day, maybe less. Running her nails down the lapels of his tactical uniform, Natalia had no idea how she was going to make through the rest of this tour, without him.
It's a while before he breaks the kiss to come up for air and once he does, he lifts one hand to brush his thumb against her full lower lip. Her mouth is pouty and red from kissing him and he likes knowing she looks like that because of him.
"You're gonna have to get me assigned to that base of yours," he murmurs. "Or I'm gonna go AWOL before the end of this war. I'll run right back to you and nobody will be happy."
He will, naturally, but he'd also be turning his back on his team.
She knew her eyes were glassy, gazing up at him. Her lips felt bruised, but throbbed deliciously. And there was the taste she'd been craving earlier, swiped from her lower lip as she licked it. Natalia carded a hand through Bucky's hair, drawing him back down for a series of slower, deeper kisses.
"I'll see what I can do," she promised. "But Phillips isn't going to care about my recommendations, or anyone else's, really." The man was notorious for "by the book". "I've thought about you all day, James," she confessed softly, "and I really need you to kiss me again." Because God only knew when she'd have another taste, regardless of how slight, of him.
Bucky doesn't really want to waste time talking when he could be kissing her instead so he tips her chin up so he can kiss her again and this time it's slower and more thorough than the first kiss. He doesn't dare unbutton her blouse or chance going under her skirt but he does cup her breast while he kisses her, imagining how good it feels when he touches her bare skin.
"I'll kiss you any time you want, Natalia. Ya lyublyu tebya tak sil'no, Natalia."
That dictionary is working out all right but he's really, really going to have to get his hands on something so he can actually speak Russian to her when they're alone and not just play at it.
No matter how much she wanted his hands on her bare skin, this wasn't nearly the time or the place for such endeavors. She couldn't have all of him, only a brief sample. Her breath hitched when he cupped her breast, the satin wrinkling beneath his hand, though Natalia could care less. But she moaned against his mouth when he spoke to her in her native tongue, and she had to stifle the wild urge to climb up and wrap her legs around his waist, to climb him like a tree.
Though she couldn't resist scattering kisses all over his face, his nose, his cheeks, his chin, the corners of his mouth. Breathing words she wasn't even aware of saying, only knowing that they were true. "...moy Dzheyms... moya sladkaya zvezda... moya sladkaya lyubov'..."
Then the intercom crackled again, Howard asking for a second set of files along with the first. Natalia groaned, dropping her forehead to Bucky's shoulder before regretfully beginning to pull away, her body already mourning his loss.
"Better get him what he wants," Bucky says, squeezing her shoulders lightly. "I'm going to catch a nap. If you want to leave Steve with Peggy, there's a seat open next to me."
He doesn't know if she'll take him up on it or not but he is tired. He tucks a pillow under his cheek and sleeps sitting up, heedless of how awful his neck is going to be after.
Maybe if he sleeps for the rest of the flight, Natalia won't be so goddamn tempting to him.
She brought the requested files to Howard and Phillips, checked in on Agent Carter and Captain Rogers, and fetched blankets and pillows for the other servicemen as they asked, somewhat shyly, she noted with amusement. But she still had her own work to do, so she resumed her former seat next to her snoozing lover, and went back at it, but a few hours over the Atlantic and her own eyes were becoming wearily heavy.
A glance around proved most everyone else already asleep; Peggy and Steve had presumably abandoned work and were talking together softly up near the cockpit, but the other commandos had all leaned over and were grabbing what shut-eye they could before the flight's end. So Natalia carefully smoothed her skirt, set aside her folders and her clipboard, and, making sure her seatbelt was securely fastened, gently listed over to lean against James's right arm, letting her eyes drift closed, safe by his side.
...only to be woken a few hours later when the plane gave a violent shudder and suddenly slewed to the side; alarms began sounding and she heard Howard yell even from the security of the front cabin. The plane rocked, bright bursts of gunfire and light exploding out of the dark windows, and everyone began yammering in a mix of surprise, fear, and panic; she spied Rogers bolt out of his seat - unwisely, as it turned out, for the plane heaved again and sent him sliding down the center aisle. Peggy started after him, but another bright explosion threw her back into her own seat.
Rather than leap to her feet - especially when the aircraft was rocking back and forth like a drunken giant - Natalia remained in her seat, but wound her arm beneath Bucky's, clasping him tight and immediately lacing her fingers with his. "We've been hit," she intoned woodenly, eyes large and a little frightened. "We must be over occupied airspace, or..." Or the Allies hadn't recognized them. But Howard was a good pilot, she trusted him to get them through it.
Bucky startles awake quick and the idea that he's in a plane getting shot down and there's nothing he can contribute to help it has him scared shitless. At least in a face to face fight, he can hold his own. How do you hold your own against bombs?
Natalia is clinging against him, though, so he focuses on keeping her protected with his body. He doesn't think it'll do any good if they are hit and are getting hit again but he can at least try.
"Hang on to me, doll. I've got you." He presses his lips against her ear and whispers as soft as he can manage. "S toboy nichego ne sluchitsya, Natalia."
The aircraft banked, slewed, shuddered, then suddenly dropped several thousand feet all in the space of five heartbeats. Men yelled, Phillips appeared demanding everyone just "sit the hell down, we've been hit but it's not serious, and just wait it out!" Natalia could hear Howard chattering rapidly into the radio, English, French, and even German, trying to cease the anti-air retaliation.
A white explosion went off right outside of the window where they sat, and she couldn't close her eyes fast enough as shattered her vision, and she gave an involuntary yelp, clinging to James in blind panic. The racking above them began to groan and give way; Dugan was suddenly there, holding up the duffels and other luggage that had been shaken loose. "Move it, Barnes!" the gruff soldier demanded. "Get her outta there before this entire bulkhead goes!"
Still blinded by the flash, Natalia put both arms around her soldier, trusting him to keep his whispered promise. "...James--?"
"C'mon, to the front, Nat," Bucky says. He has orders now and he can mobilize so he moves toward the front of the plane, Natalia in his arms, and shelters her there while the back end of the whole damn thing feels like it's coming off. He wishes he had a parachute in spite of Phillips saying they should just ride it out.
"Moy Natalia," he murmurs. "It's all right. I've got you right here. Just let me hold you and breathe me in and everything is gonna be just fine, okay?"
She let him guide her through the melee, still blinded by the flash of bright white light. Fingers clutching tactical straps, Natalia followed James up the aisle and all but collapsed next to Agent Carter, the other woman just as ashen as she.
"I can't see," Natalia whispered, a small note of fear creeping into her voice. She groped for him, finding his face and cupping his cheek. "James, I can't see." Her eyes roved back and forth; though she could feel and smell, and hear him, her vision was still nothing but black spots on a bright white background, stabbing pain into her head.
She heard Howard still yelling into the radio, felt the plane banking back and forth, but yelped again when they lost another thousand feet of altitude. "...James??" Then Howard's voice came crackling over the intercom.
"Hang on, folks! We've lost engine one but we're gonna land okay...as long as the gear holds but don't worry about that, I got it covered!" Phillips was swearing profusely in the background. "We're still...over France, so never fear! ...at least I think we are... Anyway! We're going down, so hang on to your hats, gents, we're gonna be fiiiinnnneee!"
It isn't Bucky's preferred method of traveling, especially since he's never been on a goddamn plane before now. He guesses he should have signed up for those parachuting stunts. When Howard says to hang on to his hat, he keeps Natalia tugged up against his broad chest.
"Nothing's going to happen to you, lisichka," Bucky says softly. "Nothing will happen when you're with me. I can protect you, I promise." It's idle promises and he doesn't know if he can make them.
Peggy was by now crouched on the floor next to the both of them, hanging on for dear life also. She stared to speak, but before she could, a looming shadow appeared and Captain Rogers staggered up the aisle, clutching the draped racking to keep his feet.
"Buck, I need you. We gotta get the cargo loose and drop it before we go down. Stark says if we don't, the weight'll unbalance the plane so we can't land clean. We gotta get it parachuted out the back hatch. The other guys are attaching the chutes now. We gotta hurry."
Natalia bit her lip, still clutching James's uniform strap. Her eyes were wide, but nothing focused. Agent Carter reached for her other hand, saying, "It's all right, Sergeant. I've got her. She'll be safe with me." She gave Bucky a firm nod, a glance at Steve, then back at Bucky. "Go, help the Captain."
It's not that Bucky doubts Peggy's skills or anything like that - it's more that he can't bear to leave Natalia when she's clearly so afraid and needed him close. Still, he has to be a soldier like anyone else and he steels his jaw and gets up to follow Steve, more than willing to take orders at this point.
"How long do you think we'll get to get everything off loaded?" he asks, looking around at the wreckage around them. This isn't the ideal way to land because it's more like bailing out, really, but what's there to do?
Bucky moves to start attaching chutes to boxes, moving as efficiently as he can.
The other Commandoes were hustling about to get the precious weaponry secured, and the addition of Steve and Bucky only expedited the chore. “Not sure,” Steve grunted as he clipped a buckle and gave a solid yank, tightening the straps. “But put your chute on, just in case.” Hurrying by, Dugan thrust a pair of personal life chutes at the both of them.
The plane suddenly listed wildly to the left, and the acrid stench of gasoline smoke filled the cargo bay. “Shit!” Dugan yelled, clambering back to his feet. “This whole fucker’s gonna go down in flames!” And sure enough, with beautiful ironic timing, a glare of pale yellow and orange began to lick its way up the side of the walls on the left side of the hull.
“Blow the cargo!” Steve yelled, and one of the others slammed the hatch lock, the ramp screeching and tearing away with an awful sound of ripping metal. The sheer weight of the cargo was enough to help gravity slide it towards the gaping hole at the rear of the plane, and with almost exquisite sow motion, it began to slide, then to fall.
Out of the choking smoke, Colonel Phillips appeared, dragging with him a disheveled Agent Carter. “Everyone got their chutes?” he demanded, thrusting one on the protesting Peggy. “Good. Rogers, get your men and evacuate. Now.” They all stared at him. “That’s a goddamn order, Captain!” he roared.
“Sir, what about the civilians!” Steve demanded, incredulous.
“Stark’s on his own, insisted he could land this heap despite the engine failure. I’m not going down with him and sacrificing all of our lives for his ego.” Phillips glowered, clearly not enjoying this decision, but he had damn little choice. “Now get your asses outta that hatch! Now!”
Bucky can't really take time to think about the fact that he's going to be parachuting out of this plane because all he can think about is getting back to Natalia and giving her this parachute so she can go instead. There's no time though so he decides he's just going to have to trust Howard Stark's not a complete idiot.
"We die, we die together," Bucky shouts, forcing his way back forward to cockpit to pull Natalia in his arms. If she's going to have to stay, so is he. Unfortunately, Phillips isn't in a giving mood and gives the order again before he bails out himself - Bucky has to follow orders whether he wants to or not. He glances back, worried, and then he jumps.
He's goddamn glad the chute works, at least, and he's little worse for the wear other than some shell-shock. It's Natalia he's worried about (and he guesses a little about Stark) so he looks back to see what he can do within orders.
"Sir? Permission to look for Stark and the civilians?"
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Instead, he dutifully walks past where Agent Carter and Natalia are working in the first set of seats and plunks down in a window seat where he's joined by Steve a moment later. Steve, too, is avoiding the front of the plane and that's easier to talk about than his own problem.
"Figured you'd be up there looking over Agent Carter's shoulder," Bucky says mildly, watching as Steve rubs the back of his neck and looks down at his boots. After a moment, though, Steve strikes back.
"Could ask you why you're avoiding Stark's personal assistant. The redhead thing is known, Buck. No one is going to be shocked if you make a pass at her." Bucky falls quiet because he's made more than a pass at Natalia Rushman and he feels like everyone has to know it with how embarrassed he is. Steve picks up the track he's laying down.
"You have made a pass at her." Bucky exhales sharply and gives Steve a sharp look.
"Unless you want me to go tell Agent Carter about how much you stare at her when she's not looking, you'll keep your mouth shut, Rogers."
Steve lifts his hands, palms up, and tries to look innocent. "Secret's safe," he says. "But they're taking a break now and she's headed straight for you, Buck."
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"Captain Rogers, Agent Carter and Colonel Phillips need a word, if you wouldn't mind?" Ever observant, she didn't miss the slight flush that stained Rogers's cheeks at the mention of Peggy, nor the look of brief but sheer panic that assailed America's Cheekbones before he nodded, gulped, and stood up, squaring his shoulders. She politely moved aside to let him pass, afterward sliding into the vacant next to her lover.
"Sergeant Barnes," she greeted politely, mainly for the benefit of Dugan and Jacques, right across the aisle. "Comfortable? It's a long flight across the Atlantic."
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Still, she's in the aisle seat and he's in the window so at least his face is a little bit blocked. "Can I do anything for you, Ms. Rushman? Need me to sign anything or uh, I don't know. I don't know what all you handle for Stark. I figured it was all legal stuff." The joke doesn't work as well when he can't find the punchline and he hates how tongue-tied he gets around her. He lowers his voice to a whisper and says his next words very deliberately.
"Ya khochu tebya, Natalia. I say that right or did I mangle it all up with my accent?"
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But she hid an impish grin, saving it just for him as she tilted her head toward his to whisper, "But you're partially right - it is adorable to see him get all flustered and shy around Peggy. She adores him, but they're both too caught up in the work to admit it."
Then she cleared her throat, straightened in her seat, and picked up her clipboard again. "Actually, I handle most of Howard's written correspondence, write his schedule, make his equipment and supply orders, remind him to eat, and run interference on any 'untoward socializing' that might crop up every now and then." Natalia rolled her eyes with a mildly exasperated sigh. "He's a genius, true, but he's still a rich playboy who's about eleven years old."
Since she was sitting on the aisle seat, Natalia slowly lowered her clipboard to her lap, held her pen in her right hand, and eased her left between their seats, covertly seeking Bucky's to thread his fingers with hers when he leaned in enough to whisper at her ear. The rush of heat those words in that voice sent coursing through her was almost a tangible thing, enough to have her breath catching and a gentle flush staining her cheeks, hidden by a sudden fall of crimson.
She shook her head, red curls gently swinging, and gave his hand a covert squeeze. "No, it sounded...good enough." Thank God she was sitting with her knees pressed tightly together. "...better than last night, moya zvezda..."
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"You wouldn't happen to have anything in that clipboard that says where I'm going, do you? They've been keeping everything locked up as far as our assignments and frankly, I'd rather know where I'm getting shot at and by who."
He knows Europe since he's on this flight and not one over the Pacific but that's about it. "I was hoping I would get deployed over here, though, and not some island in the middle of the ocean. Get some sightseeing done, right?"
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But she shook her head to his next question. "That's one of the things they're discussing, up there," she told him, nodding at the front of the plane. "I do know that all of you will be in close proximity, as Stark will be supplying your weapons and ammunition himself." She held up one page, skimmed it, then let it fall again. "And all of your supplies will be coming through his lab, so the Army has to stay in close contact." At least, for now.
"All of the weaponry you'll be learning and using are prototypes. Both Howard and the Army brass are interested to know how they'll perform in the field, and whether or not mass production will be feasible." And several of those design plans were already on her docket to retrieve, but that wasn't anyone's business but her own, now was it?
Then she lowered her voice, waiting until Dugan got up from his own seat and made his way towards the rear of the plane. "But I'm personally hoping you'll be assigned to the base right across the river, James. It's only about three miles from Howard's laboratory."
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"Would you let a soldier cross into your neutral borders, Ms. Rushman? I'm not supposed to be in Switzerland, you know. Constitutes an act of war. I'd have to sneak over."
And, he suspects, if he's stationed at that base across the river, he's going to cross over that border so many times that he might as well just live in Switzerland.
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The cargo hold was crammed to capacity, but she'd insisted to Howard that they'd need some room to walk about down below, so thankfully there was a small walkway between the rows of crated equipment, file boxes, and other odds and ends. Natalia descended the ladder first, switching on the light and trying to remember just where she'd stored all of the hard copies. But the latch of the cargo hold door had her turning around, biting at her lower lip as she just stared at her beautiful lover, and her heart began beating faster. And harder.
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"You think we can steal a minute down here before we have to get back up there?" Because Bucky can think of a couple things he could down here even if they've got limited time. He draws closer to her, hooking his arm around her to pull her up flush against him. She feels good against his body and he grins at her.
"I wanna kiss you, Natalia. You gonna let me do that or do I need to make sure you're not mussed up?"
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Dimly, Natalia felt her back hit the edges of the packed crates, but she didn't care. James's mouth was on hers, hungry eager tongues sliding together, and his hands held her close, supple but almost reverent. Waking up beside him earlier this morning seemed a lifetime ago, even though she'd slept and slept well cradled in his strong arms. It had been agony, spending the morning with him knowing she'd have to let him go sooner rather than never.
But she silently thanked the American military economy, because she could steal him away for this private moment, sating her unyielding craving for him, at least for a day, maybe less. Running her nails down the lapels of his tactical uniform, Natalia had no idea how she was going to make through the rest of this tour, without him.
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"You're gonna have to get me assigned to that base of yours," he murmurs. "Or I'm gonna go AWOL before the end of this war. I'll run right back to you and nobody will be happy."
He will, naturally, but he'd also be turning his back on his team.
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"I'll see what I can do," she promised. "But Phillips isn't going to care about my recommendations, or anyone else's, really." The man was notorious for "by the book". "I've thought about you all day, James," she confessed softly, "and I really need you to kiss me again." Because God only knew when she'd have another taste, regardless of how slight, of him.
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"I'll kiss you any time you want, Natalia. Ya lyublyu tebya tak sil'no, Natalia."
That dictionary is working out all right but he's really, really going to have to get his hands on something so he can actually speak Russian to her when they're alone and not just play at it.
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Though she couldn't resist scattering kisses all over his face, his nose, his cheeks, his chin, the corners of his mouth. Breathing words she wasn't even aware of saying, only knowing that they were true. "...moy Dzheyms... moya sladkaya zvezda... moya sladkaya lyubov'..."
Then the intercom crackled again, Howard asking for a second set of files along with the first. Natalia groaned, dropping her forehead to Bucky's shoulder before regretfully beginning to pull away, her body already mourning his loss.
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He doesn't know if she'll take him up on it or not but he is tired. He tucks a pillow under his cheek and sleeps sitting up, heedless of how awful his neck is going to be after.
Maybe if he sleeps for the rest of the flight, Natalia won't be so goddamn tempting to him.
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A glance around proved most everyone else already asleep; Peggy and Steve had presumably abandoned work and were talking together softly up near the cockpit, but the other commandos had all leaned over and were grabbing what shut-eye they could before the flight's end. So Natalia carefully smoothed her skirt, set aside her folders and her clipboard, and, making sure her seatbelt was securely fastened, gently listed over to lean against James's right arm, letting her eyes drift closed, safe by his side.
...only to be woken a few hours later when the plane gave a violent shudder and suddenly slewed to the side; alarms began sounding and she heard Howard yell even from the security of the front cabin. The plane rocked, bright bursts of gunfire and light exploding out of the dark windows, and everyone began yammering in a mix of surprise, fear, and panic; she spied Rogers bolt out of his seat - unwisely, as it turned out, for the plane heaved again and sent him sliding down the center aisle. Peggy started after him, but another bright explosion threw her back into her own seat.
Rather than leap to her feet - especially when the aircraft was rocking back and forth like a drunken giant - Natalia remained in her seat, but wound her arm beneath Bucky's, clasping him tight and immediately lacing her fingers with his. "We've been hit," she intoned woodenly, eyes large and a little frightened. "We must be over occupied airspace, or..." Or the Allies hadn't recognized them. But Howard was a good pilot, she trusted him to get them through it.
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Natalia is clinging against him, though, so he focuses on keeping her protected with his body. He doesn't think it'll do any good if they are hit and are getting hit again but he can at least try.
"Hang on to me, doll. I've got you." He presses his lips against her ear and whispers as soft as he can manage. "S toboy nichego ne sluchitsya, Natalia."
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A white explosion went off right outside of the window where they sat, and she couldn't close her eyes fast enough as shattered her vision, and she gave an involuntary yelp, clinging to James in blind panic. The racking above them began to groan and give way; Dugan was suddenly there, holding up the duffels and other luggage that had been shaken loose. "Move it, Barnes!" the gruff soldier demanded. "Get her outta there before this entire bulkhead goes!"
Still blinded by the flash, Natalia put both arms around her soldier, trusting him to keep his whispered promise. "...James--?"
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"Moy Natalia," he murmurs. "It's all right. I've got you right here. Just let me hold you and breathe me in and everything is gonna be just fine, okay?"
He hopes so, anyway.
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"I can't see," Natalia whispered, a small note of fear creeping into her voice. She groped for him, finding his face and cupping his cheek. "James, I can't see." Her eyes roved back and forth; though she could feel and smell, and hear him, her vision was still nothing but black spots on a bright white background, stabbing pain into her head.
She heard Howard still yelling into the radio, felt the plane banking back and forth, but yelped again when they lost another thousand feet of altitude. "...James??" Then Howard's voice came crackling over the intercom.
"Hang on, folks! We've lost engine one but we're gonna land okay...as long as the gear holds but don't worry about that, I got it covered!" Phillips was swearing profusely in the background. "We're still...over France, so never fear! ...at least I think we are... Anyway! We're going down, so hang on to your hats, gents, we're gonna be fiiiinnnneee!"
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"Nothing's going to happen to you, lisichka," Bucky says softly. "Nothing will happen when you're with me. I can protect you, I promise." It's idle promises and he doesn't know if he can make them.
"Deep breaths, all right?"
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"Buck, I need you. We gotta get the cargo loose and drop it before we go down. Stark says if we don't, the weight'll unbalance the plane so we can't land clean. We gotta get it parachuted out the back hatch. The other guys are attaching the chutes now. We gotta hurry."
Natalia bit her lip, still clutching James's uniform strap. Her eyes were wide, but nothing focused. Agent Carter reached for her other hand, saying, "It's all right, Sergeant. I've got her. She'll be safe with me." She gave Bucky a firm nod, a glance at Steve, then back at Bucky. "Go, help the Captain."
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"How long do you think we'll get to get everything off loaded?" he asks, looking around at the wreckage around them. This isn't the ideal way to land because it's more like bailing out, really, but what's there to do?
Bucky moves to start attaching chutes to boxes, moving as efficiently as he can.
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The plane suddenly listed wildly to the left, and the acrid stench of gasoline smoke filled the cargo bay. “Shit!” Dugan yelled, clambering back to his feet. “This whole fucker’s gonna go down in flames!” And sure enough, with beautiful ironic timing, a glare of pale yellow and orange began to lick its way up the side of the walls on the left side of the hull.
“Blow the cargo!” Steve yelled, and one of the others slammed the hatch lock, the ramp screeching and tearing away with an awful sound of ripping metal. The sheer weight of the cargo was enough to help gravity slide it towards the gaping hole at the rear of the plane, and with almost exquisite sow motion, it began to slide, then to fall.
Out of the choking smoke, Colonel Phillips appeared, dragging with him a disheveled Agent Carter. “Everyone got their chutes?” he demanded, thrusting one on the protesting Peggy. “Good. Rogers, get your men and evacuate. Now.” They all stared at him. “That’s a goddamn order, Captain!” he roared.
“Sir, what about the civilians!” Steve demanded, incredulous.
“Stark’s on his own, insisted he could land this heap despite the engine failure. I’m not going down with him and sacrificing all of our lives for his ego.” Phillips glowered, clearly not enjoying this decision, but he had damn little choice. “Now get your asses outta that hatch! Now!”
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"We die, we die together," Bucky shouts, forcing his way back forward to cockpit to pull Natalia in his arms. If she's going to have to stay, so is he. Unfortunately, Phillips isn't in a giving mood and gives the order again before he bails out himself - Bucky has to follow orders whether he wants to or not. He glances back, worried, and then he jumps.
He's goddamn glad the chute works, at least, and he's little worse for the wear other than some shell-shock. It's Natalia he's worried about (and he guesses a little about Stark) so he looks back to see what he can do within orders.
"Sir? Permission to look for Stark and the civilians?"
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