Jailbreak experience. Does this mean you should be my one phonecall if I ever wind up in lockup again?
[ Amused and warmed by that playful nudge, he glances over at her; for the moment, still a bit too entertained and absorbed by Daisy to kick off the movie just yet. ]
Although in the interests of full disclosure, I guess I gotta say that I have jailbreak experience, too.
I guess that means you'll be my one phonecall then, too.
[ She gives him a bright smile, amused and so glad for the way their conversations always seem to get back to even ground where they can both relax and enjoy themselves. Being with him is comfortable and comforting, two things she could stand to have a lot more of in her life, and she's pretty sure he could too. ]
[ It really has been the most pleasant, unexpected surprise: how easy it is to settle into this groove with her. The back-and-forth, the teasing patter and the jokes and the serious confessions and the careful peeling-back more details about each other. Getting to know each other better. It's a constant excavation, and Bucky's always startled at how much he isn't getting tired of it. There's always more and more to learn about her.
Right now, though, his energy's humming along at a low ebb, and so it's all he's got in him to press play and then become one with his pillows. The start of the movie is immediately engaging and despite his tiredness, he finds himself following along. After the alien crash-landing in upstate New York, he remarks aloud, ] Movies like this must've felt weird after the Chitauri.
[ No matter how enthralling it is, though, Bucky's already accepted the fact that they're definitely not going to get through the whole movie, so he doesn't mind talking throughout. Behind a yawn, he adds, ]
And I'm gonna need your official additions to my pop culture watchlist, by the way. Sometime.
[ Daisy's used to running on empty, pushing herself well past exhausted and burning fumes until she practically collapses. There are some days it's the only way she can make it through, the only way to escape the nightmares that torment her, the only way to survive the loneliness that tries to eat away at her. But sitting here with Bucky... She lets herself feel it. Lets herself sink into the warmth of the bone-deep weariness without fighting it.
She nods her agreement with his statement about things being different after the Chitauri. Everything had been different. Sometimes, it's hard to remember what life had been like Before. ]
That's easy: Terminator. [ She yawns as well, his prompting one of her own before she can add: ] One and two. We'll have a double-feature night. [ And there's a second yawn. ] But you don't have to write it down now, I can remind you later.
[ His notebook's in his non-combat leather jacket in the closet, so all the way across the apartment, so basically on another planet.
Bucky's trying to concentrate on the movie, but he finds himself hyper-aware of her presence beside him: the weight of another person on the mattress, the fact that she's the first person to be here, to sit here, to see where he lives. Thankfully, she took the side of the bed which means his right arm's against her: warm flesh and blood, a soft human cushion radiating heat, rather than cold jarring vibranium.
When the villainous alien eats the pest exterminator and takes up shapeshifting residence in his discarded skin like a sagging meat suit, he makes a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat, a sort of huh. ]
Okay so thank god Skrulls don't actually do it like that—
[ Back when the team was still together and whole, they'd have the occasional movie night, everyone crammed onto a couch together or spawled on the floor in front of the TV, personal space practically nonexistent as they all clung to the physical reminder that everyone was safe. Tonight with Bucky is kind of like that... but it's also very different. She can feel the warmth radiating from him, feel his heartbeat echoing through her body. It's nice. It's really, really nice. If they were closer emotionally, she'd love nothing more than to curl up against him and soak up that heat while using him as her own personal pillow.
The thought makes her smile, though Bucky's comment turns it into a comical grimace. ]
There's a species out there that does it like that. I don't remember what they're called, but we left that planet real fast.
You know, you're really taking the shine off the whole 'jaunting across the stars' thing. [ Bucky's nose wrinkles, amused and barely serious. ] In general— Was space full of wonder or full of nightmares or kinda both?
[ If this movie is anything to be believed, it's both. He still wonders what it's like out there, too. Never got the chance to leave the planet like some of the other superheroes had. ]
[ She grins at his comment, her heart feeling lighter for his presence and good humor. This evening would have been very different if she'd just gone straight back to her own apartment alone. ]
Kinda both, just like here. [ Glancing over at him, her smile softens. ] But the wonder is pretty damn great.
Are you asking me to arrange a field trip, Sergeant Barnes? [ Her eyebrows raise for full teasing effect, but then she laughs. He really is adorable. ] Because I could probably do that. We could go visit Fury's super-secret space station.
[ Bucky jolts, now fully distracted from the film as he props himself up on his elbow and swivels, the better to turn and stare at her. Half-laughing: ]
Wait, you— look, you can't just keep offhand dropping shit like "Fury's super-secret space station". Of course I want to go visit a super-secret space station, what the hell. This better not be a joke, because I am entirely down for a field trip.
[ A beat, a small ripple in his easy demeanour like an accidental skip in the record. ]
As long as he, uh. Doesn't hold any grudges about the whole "trying to assassinate him" thing.
[ Daisy had maintained that SHIELD didn't have anything against him despite all the ruin left in his wake, but Bucky still suspected some agents were more wary of him than she was — and then, Fury hadn't just been accidental collateral damage either. He'd been a specific target. The director may have faked his death, but the two sniper rounds through the wall and into his chest had been real. ]
[ Oh no, he's being adorable again. Her heart aches in that exquisitely painful way that makes her want to do something supremely stupid that neither of them is ready for, so she pushes those pesky feelings aside as best she can and focuses instead on reassuring him. It is a totally valid concern, and she can guess at how much these things bother him — a whole lot more than he ever shows. ]
I mean, he may not want to have brunch with you, but he's also just not much of a Brunch Guy in general. [ But this deserves more than just a flippant joke, so she lets the humor fade away for the next part. ] If Coulson and I vouch for you, it'll be fine.
[ But she can't just leave it at that, so her tone perks up again as she informs him: ] So before our field trip, you'll just have to meet my dad. Easy.
Oh, is that how it is? We're at the meeting-your-parents stage?
[ His voice is already warm, but before she can panic or think she overstepped, he adds, ]
I'd love to. Like I said, I've only heard good things.
[ Those bloodstained trading cards in Steve's hands. They'd left an impression. He'd told Bucky about it during those long months on the run, when he'd been filling his friend in on everything he'd missed, on the origins of the Avengers and that initial battle which had brought them all together. Phil Coulson died still believing in that idea, in heroes. Well, it's an old-fashioned notion. ]
[ Phil Coulson believes in people. Period. And if he believes in you, until you give him a reason not to, he will stand in your corner and cheer you on through every hardship. He's already made it clear to Daisy that Bucky is counted in that circle now. (He's made a few other things about Bucky pretty clear too, reading between the lines of how Daisy talks about the reluctant hero, though she's not about to share that part with Bucky himself.) ]
You know, you're racking up quite the social calendar, Sergeant Barnes. [ Oh yes, the teasing is back. ] Meeting my best friends, meeting my dad, movie nights and a field trip... I don't know how you'll fit in your weekly Saving of the World.
If by "racking up a social calendar", you mean "cribbing from yours". [ It was a thing he was faintly self-conscious about. It paled in comparison to all the far more visceral guilt he carried around, but it was still there like a small but annoying pebble in his shoe: the awareness that he'd been trailing along on Steve's coattails, then Sam's, and now Daisy's. The only friend he'd picked up on his own initiative and in his own time had been Yori — which meant a disaster, a ticking time bomb, before that inevitably imploded. ]
How do people even make friends these days? Like, genuine question. I can barely remember how I did it before the army, and the world's such a different place compared to the '30s anyway.
[ It's something she's thought about a lot over the last few years, whenever the loneliness set in and she just wanted someone to have a damn cup of coffee with who didn't expect her to be anything but herself. Someone who knew how much of a mess she was and didn't judge her for it.
She watches the TV without really seeing the movie, only vaguely paying attention to the comedic dialogue between the characters. ]
I think hobbies might be a thing people bond over? [ Not that she has a lot of those either... ]
I took art classes with Steve, once upon a time, but I mostly did it 'cause the models were pretty. He was the artist between us. I did used to box a lot at the YMCA, though— maybe I gotta find a local gym...
[ He's never really gotten the chance to ponder this question aloud with someone before, although it's been haunting him for a while, so it's oddly nice to have someone to brainstorm with. How to exist as a person outside of work, outside of duty? ]
[ Because the models were pretty. Oh, the shit she's going to give him for that later. What a typical guy reason for doing something. ]
A gym could be nice. There are a few in the city that are openly welcome to those of us on the enhanced spectrum. [ It's become a thing in the past decade, ever since heroes and vigilantes became known entities who were splashed across social media and news outlets. Some of the businesses wanted the publicity, others just wanted to support the people helping protect their city. ] I can get you some names, if you're interested.
Seriously? Yeah, that would be great. The main reason I've never really signed up anywhere— [ or at least one of the reasons, ] is 'cause I didn't want to, y'know, walk in and then commit grievous property damage. Steve broke more than a few punching bags. I didn't know businesses had branched out these days.
It sounds nicer than freaks of nature or abominations, which are some of the less clever names people use for us.
[ Especially Inhumans. Somehow, Captain America got a pass but the genetically different were despised and hunted. Those first few years after the world found out about them were pretty bad... and now there's hardly any of them left. But that's too heavy a subject for now. ]
And, you know, you're always welcome to use SHIELD's gym if you want to really let loose. We don't mind if you break something, it gives the science team a new problem to solve on how to keep our equipment durable and functional.
[ He shouldn't be surprised that people say such bigoted shit about people like Daisy with her powers, and yet it's a bitter pill anyway, learning that. Weirdly enough, he's actually managed to be pretty removed from that whole side, since he doesn't know that many people with ingrained abilities. Wanda, maybe. He opens his mouth, almost says something, but then bites down on it. Bucky's mouth purses, but he follows her usual tack and asks a question just out of curiosity instead. ]
I don't think I ever asked— are there any other 'enhanced' operatives in SHIELD? Or is it just you?
There are others. Mack's wife, Yo-Yo, is an Inhuman, and my sister is too. She joined up a few years ago. Some of the satellite offices have people with abilities, and we've got a few other LMDs like Coulson.
[ Another yawn overtakes her and she lifts a bruised hand to cover her mouth. She's starting to feel the effects of the medication, the pain in her arms beginning to lessen and everything feeling a little fuzzy around the edges. It's a good feeling, certainly a hell of a lot better than the constant throbbing ache from before. ]
When Bucky glances back at the screen, distracted, he realises he's completely lost track of what's happening in the movie. But that's fine; he'd already assumed that's where they would wind up, and that they can just restart it next time when they're not both hopped up on painkillers. ]
You can rest up if you need to. Don't worry about it.
[ Gentle permission to close her eyes, to doze off, to not have to fight for wakefulness any longer. ]
[ As soon as she has 'permission', her body begins to feel heavy and her eyes just don't want to stay open. She blinks a few times, trying to fight it, but then she remembers who is laying next to her. Bucky. A man she trusts and feels safe with, who won't judge her for this moment of physical weakness. So she gives in, closing her eyes and snuggling into the cushions a little more. ]
Jus' for a little while... [ The murmur is soft and slightly slurred; she's already drifting off into the blissful sleep of exhaustion. ]
[ A wan smile flickers across his face as he looks down at her. As she drifts off, he settles down even lower against the pillows and turns the volume lower on the TV: not fully silent, but enough that the music and voices drown into a low soporific hum. He usually falls asleep with it on, anyway.
His metabolism's still strong enough that it takes a while before the side-effects finally kick in. It comes on slowly: he's half-paying attention to the movie, still awake but drowsing, but that sleepiness keeps gnawing at the edges of his focus, nipping and dragging him down. In the end, it's a relief to just close his eyes and let go.
Normally Bucky is a terrible sleeper. He's only relatively recently gotten used to the softness of an actual mattress again, and he's usually awake and sweating in the middle of the night, tangled in his sheets. This time, though, the meds and the pain and the exhaustion just knocks him right out. At some point, the radiators come on with a noisy clang and he does wake up then — but just enough to blink blearily across the room, realise the woman beside him is still asleep, breathing deeply, and he reaches for the throw blanket from the bottom of the bed and drapes it over her. They've both just fallen asleep on top of the sheets, but his body runs hot enough that he's a human radiator himself, blazing with warmth.
And then that exhaustion comes in like a boulder and Bucky rolls over, buries his face in the pillow, and passes out again.
By morning — dawn light starting to spill through the windows, he doesn't even have curtains — they've somehow managed to burrow into the bed enough that he's wedged up against her, a leg entangled with hers, Daisy's head against the crook of his bare shoulder, close to the slow rise-and-fall of his breathing. ]
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[ Amused and warmed by that playful nudge, he glances over at her; for the moment, still a bit too entertained and absorbed by Daisy to kick off the movie just yet. ]
Although in the interests of full disclosure, I guess I gotta say that I have jailbreak experience, too.
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[ She gives him a bright smile, amused and so glad for the way their conversations always seem to get back to even ground where they can both relax and enjoy themselves. Being with him is comfortable and comforting, two things she could stand to have a lot more of in her life, and she's pretty sure he could too. ]
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Right now, though, his energy's humming along at a low ebb, and so it's all he's got in him to press play and then become one with his pillows. The start of the movie is immediately engaging and despite his tiredness, he finds himself following along. After the alien crash-landing in upstate New York, he remarks aloud, ] Movies like this must've felt weird after the Chitauri.
[ No matter how enthralling it is, though, Bucky's already accepted the fact that they're definitely not going to get through the whole movie, so he doesn't mind talking throughout. Behind a yawn, he adds, ]
And I'm gonna need your official additions to my pop culture watchlist, by the way. Sometime.
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She nods her agreement with his statement about things being different after the Chitauri. Everything had been different. Sometimes, it's hard to remember what life had been like Before. ]
That's easy: Terminator. [ She yawns as well, his prompting one of her own before she can add: ] One and two. We'll have a double-feature night. [ And there's a second yawn. ] But you don't have to write it down now, I can remind you later.
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[ His notebook's in his non-combat leather jacket in the closet, so all the way across the apartment, so basically on another planet.
Bucky's trying to concentrate on the movie, but he finds himself hyper-aware of her presence beside him: the weight of another person on the mattress, the fact that she's the first person to be here, to sit here, to see where he lives. Thankfully, she took the side of the bed which means his right arm's against her: warm flesh and blood, a soft human cushion radiating heat, rather than cold jarring vibranium.
When the villainous alien eats the pest exterminator and takes up shapeshifting residence in his discarded skin like a sagging meat suit, he makes a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat, a sort of huh. ]
Okay so thank god Skrulls don't actually do it like that—
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The thought makes her smile, though Bucky's comment turns it into a comical grimace. ]
There's a species out there that does it like that. I don't remember what they're called, but we left that planet real fast.
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[ If this movie is anything to be believed, it's both. He still wonders what it's like out there, too. Never got the chance to leave the planet like some of the other superheroes had. ]
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Kinda both, just like here. [ Glancing over at him, her smile softens. ] But the wonder is pretty damn great.
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Wait, you— look, you can't just keep offhand dropping shit like "Fury's super-secret space station". Of course I want to go visit a super-secret space station, what the hell. This better not be a joke, because I am entirely down for a field trip.
[ A beat, a small ripple in his easy demeanour like an accidental skip in the record. ]
As long as he, uh. Doesn't hold any grudges about the whole "trying to assassinate him" thing.
[ Daisy had maintained that SHIELD didn't have anything against him despite all the ruin left in his wake, but Bucky still suspected some agents were more wary of him than she was — and then, Fury hadn't just been accidental collateral damage either. He'd been a specific target. The director may have faked his death, but the two sniper rounds through the wall and into his chest had been real. ]
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I mean, he may not want to have brunch with you, but he's also just not much of a Brunch Guy in general. [ But this deserves more than just a flippant joke, so she lets the humor fade away for the next part. ] If Coulson and I vouch for you, it'll be fine.
[ But she can't just leave it at that, so her tone perks up again as she informs him: ] So before our field trip, you'll just have to meet my dad. Easy.
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[ His voice is already warm, but before she can panic or think she overstepped, he adds, ]
I'd love to. Like I said, I've only heard good things.
[ Those bloodstained trading cards in Steve's hands. They'd left an impression. He'd told Bucky about it during those long months on the run, when he'd been filling his friend in on everything he'd missed, on the origins of the Avengers and that initial battle which had brought them all together. Phil Coulson died still believing in that idea, in heroes. Well, it's an old-fashioned notion. ]
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[ Phil Coulson believes in people. Period. And if he believes in you, until you give him a reason not to, he will stand in your corner and cheer you on through every hardship. He's already made it clear to Daisy that Bucky is counted in that circle now. (He's made a few other things about Bucky pretty clear too, reading between the lines of how Daisy talks about the reluctant hero, though she's not about to share that part with Bucky himself.) ]
You know, you're racking up quite the social calendar, Sergeant Barnes. [ Oh yes, the teasing is back. ] Meeting my best friends, meeting my dad, movie nights and a field trip... I don't know how you'll fit in your weekly Saving of the World.
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How do people even make friends these days? Like, genuine question. I can barely remember how I did it before the army, and the world's such a different place compared to the '30s anyway.
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[ It's something she's thought about a lot over the last few years, whenever the loneliness set in and she just wanted someone to have a damn cup of coffee with who didn't expect her to be anything but herself. Someone who knew how much of a mess she was and didn't judge her for it.
She watches the TV without really seeing the movie, only vaguely paying attention to the comedic dialogue between the characters. ]
I think hobbies might be a thing people bond over? [ Not that she has a lot of those either... ]
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[ An accidental echo of her own thoughts. ]
I took art classes with Steve, once upon a time, but I mostly did it 'cause the models were pretty. He was the artist between us. I did used to box a lot at the YMCA, though— maybe I gotta find a local gym...
[ He's never really gotten the chance to ponder this question aloud with someone before, although it's been haunting him for a while, so it's oddly nice to have someone to brainstorm with. How to exist as a person outside of work, outside of duty? ]
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A gym could be nice. There are a few in the city that are openly welcome to those of us on the enhanced spectrum. [ It's become a thing in the past decade, ever since heroes and vigilantes became known entities who were splashed across social media and news outlets. Some of the businesses wanted the publicity, others just wanted to support the people helping protect their city. ] I can get you some names, if you're interested.
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[ Bucky snorts, though, at the phrasing. ]
'Enhanced spectrum'. Nice way of putting it.
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[ Especially Inhumans. Somehow, Captain America got a pass but the genetically different were despised and hunted. Those first few years after the world found out about them were pretty bad... and now there's hardly any of them left. But that's too heavy a subject for now. ]
And, you know, you're always welcome to use SHIELD's gym if you want to really let loose. We don't mind if you break something, it gives the science team a new problem to solve on how to keep our equipment durable and functional.
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I don't think I ever asked— are there any other 'enhanced' operatives in SHIELD? Or is it just you?
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[ Another yawn overtakes her and she lifts a bruised hand to cover her mouth. She's starting to feel the effects of the medication, the pain in her arms beginning to lessen and everything feeling a little fuzzy around the edges. It's a good feeling, certainly a hell of a lot better than the constant throbbing ache from before. ]
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When Bucky glances back at the screen, distracted, he realises he's completely lost track of what's happening in the movie. But that's fine; he'd already assumed that's where they would wind up, and that they can just restart it next time when they're not both hopped up on painkillers. ]
You can rest up if you need to. Don't worry about it.
[ Gentle permission to close her eyes, to doze off, to not have to fight for wakefulness any longer. ]
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Jus' for a little while... [ The murmur is soft and slightly slurred; she's already drifting off into the blissful sleep of exhaustion. ]
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His metabolism's still strong enough that it takes a while before the side-effects finally kick in. It comes on slowly: he's half-paying attention to the movie, still awake but drowsing, but that sleepiness keeps gnawing at the edges of his focus, nipping and dragging him down. In the end, it's a relief to just close his eyes and let go.
Normally Bucky is a terrible sleeper. He's only relatively recently gotten used to the softness of an actual mattress again, and he's usually awake and sweating in the middle of the night, tangled in his sheets. This time, though, the meds and the pain and the exhaustion just knocks him right out. At some point, the radiators come on with a noisy clang and he does wake up then — but just enough to blink blearily across the room, realise the woman beside him is still asleep, breathing deeply, and he reaches for the throw blanket from the bottom of the bed and drapes it over her. They've both just fallen asleep on top of the sheets, but his body runs hot enough that he's a human radiator himself, blazing with warmth.
And then that exhaustion comes in like a boulder and Bucky rolls over, buries his face in the pillow, and passes out again.
By morning — dawn light starting to spill through the windows, he doesn't even have curtains — they've somehow managed to burrow into the bed enough that he's wedged up against her, a leg entangled with hers, Daisy's head against the crook of his bare shoulder, close to the slow rise-and-fall of his breathing. ]
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yrs to wrap?
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