[Daisy had woken up once in the middle of the night to take some advil for her pounding headache, which apparently had done much because she had woken up feeling just as shitty. Inhaling deeply, Daisy whined when the sun hit her eyes, having forgotten to close the blind last night. For a moment, she completely forgot Bucky was even there until her arm hit something hard. Pulling her hand back she opened her eyes only to relax when she saw Bucky only inches from her face.]
Hey.
[She croaked out, running a hand over her face before reaching over to pull down the blind. Flopping back down on the bed, she closed her eyes for what felt like minutes but in reality was maybe a minute before it fully sunk in that Bucky had actually spent the night, in her bed.
Act. Natural.
It's not like anything happened.
Eyes still closed, Daisy shifted so she was on her back, arm resting across her eyes.]
How're you feeling?
[She's not a person before she has coffee, but she's trying.]
[ And he does feel fine, in fact. Bucky actually looks fresher than she does: the cuts and nicks on his skin have healed, and the conspicuous beginning to a bruise that should've worsened today has faded instead. That accelerated healing putting in the work overnight, his body already starting to laboriously piece itself back together while he rested. He won't be regrowing limbs anytime soon, but like how his metabolism is annoyingly sped-up, so is his recovery time.
He's half-burrowed into her spare pillow. Facing her, Bucky finds one last surviving piece of popcorn between them, and he smirks and tosses it out of the bed. There's something so oddly domestic about this whole scene, so there should probably be a riotous panic behind his ribcage at the fact that he'd spent the night with someone for the first time in— ages— but he just feels a kind of queasy happiness instead. Nerves fluttering in his chest, where they haven't taken root in so long. ]
How about you? Sorry if I kicked you in the night or anything.
[She can feel him staring at her, even with her eyes closed and a tiny smile tugs at her lips in spite of herself. She can't remember the last time she spent the night in the same bed with something where nothing happened, but Daisy is honestly glad they hadn't taken it too far last night. As much as she wanted to at the time, it wouldn't have been the best time to do anything else.]
Like I got punched in the head, and that I need coffee.
[Smile growing, Daisy finally moves her arm to look at him tiredly. Squinting in the dimness she can see that scrapes on his face are gone and the confusion sets in on her face.]
You--?
I knew you could heal faster but that's just unfair.
[ That smirk grows into a proper shit-eating grin — his favourite kind, honestly — as Daisy points that out. For a moment, she can see a glimmer of the mouthy soldier he'd once been, all the playful attitude he'd once wielded in comfort around Steve. ]
Told you so.
[ And she's mentioned coffee, and at the thought of it, Bucky realises he could also really do with a cup. He could lie here for a while with her, but that nervous energy needs somewhere to go, and he's usually so sleep-deprived that he needs that kick of caffeine in the morning too.
With a preemptive apology, he reaches an arm across her, and for a moment it looks like he's just going to sprawl his body over hers— but then he keeps going, a hand and a foot pressed into the covers on Daisy's other side, and he uses it to vault himself and roll neatly over her, almost falling out of the bed, but he thankfully catches himself at the last moment. They'd walked past the kitchen on this floor last night, so he remembers where it is, assumes he can probably figure out the coffee machine. He rises to his feet, instinctively rolls his shoulder again, checking the limberness of the arm after the damage it took yesterday. It's fine. ]
[Suppressing a bigger smile when he gets that shit-eating grin on his face, Daisy weakly shoves at her shoulder before looking up at the ceiling. She really should get up, but staying here also seemed like a great idea. At the very least she should grab some more pain reliever if she wanted to get through the day without her head pounding.
She’s about to get up when Bucky is suddenly on top of her, and just as quickly is he off of her before she even has time to fully process it. Daisy wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted to bail now that they were awake, after how last night went...
A smile breaks out on her face this time when he offers to get her coffee. She almost tells him not to, but, it would give her a few minutes alone with her thoughts.]
Black, and there should be sugar packets next to the machine if you could bring me three?
[While he’s gone she quickly looks at her phone before tossing it to the end of the bed. Pulling her knees up, Daisy replays what happened last night in there head. Trying to think of anything she might’ve done wrong but coming up blank. Maybe it should feel awkward, but she can’t find any reason for it to be.]
[ It's not the simple glass carafe he's used to, but he finds a complicated-looking coffee machine bolted into place in the kitchen — smart, when it's a plane that might wind up dipping and turning or jolting around during turbulence — and he eventually puzzles through the buttons enough to get some piping hot black coffee out of it and into two SHIELD-branded mugs. Bucky pours in the sugar, stirs the coffee, and then makes his way back, eventually slipping into Daisy's quarters and nudging the door shut again behind him. There was a bottle of painkillers sitting on a shelf right outside (a gift from the doctor, maybe), and so he brings that with him, too.
The man settles down on the edge of Daisy's bed, his weight sinking the mattress beside her, and he gently lobs the painkillers at her, then holds out the hot mug, his metal fingers gripping the edges so he can offer her the handle without minding the burning heat. Bemused: ]
Exactly three sugar packets?
[ He's restless this morning, but there's also a fondness in his gaze when he looks at Daisy, sitting back down on that cramped bed next to her. ]
[He's not gone long, but Daisy is quickly brushing out her unruly hair with her fingers and cleaning up the bed as much as she can. When she hears him approaching she moves to sit back down on the bed, wishing she had her clothes in here so she could switch into something less ridiculous of doughnut printed PJ pants. Her other pajamas were dirty, okay?!
Smiling when he opens the door, Daisy manages to catch the pill bottle from him.]
Thanks.
[Taking out two, she grabs the coffee cup from him and drinks some so she can down the pills. Rolling her eyes fondly when he calls her out for the amount of sugar packets she uses.]
You're telling me you don't get specific with your coffee?
[Despite it being hot, Daisy is so used to burning her tongue that she takes another sip before scooting back on the bed so her back is against the wall. Whether he decides to sit on the edge of the bed, or scoot back with her is up to him. She takes a look at him from over the rim of his coffee mug, now that the window is open she can really see the lack of scrapes bruising on his body.]
So that's it? Overnight your body just repairs itself?
Nope. You saw me down at Coney Island. Black coffee, no frills. [ He blows on said coffee, cooling his down, hands wrapped contemplatively around the mug before he takes a sip. He's still perched on the edge, but after a moment it feels too much like it means he's ready to bolt — one metaphorical foot in, one foot out the door — so he slides back into the bed, his back to the wall and right shoulder against Daisy's. There's no particular script for this kind of sleepover, so he's just. Winging it.
Her question thankfully gives him something to focus on that isn't the warmth of her shoulder and her knee so close to his, though. Ugh. He really isn't used to this. ]
Not everything. It's not like I can, I dunno, regrow missing fingers. It's not a superpowered healing factor or anything.
[ If there were mutants like that out there, they'd successfully stayed off the general public's radar. So far. ]
So it's just the same thing your body does, just... quicker. Like how my metabolism's quicker. Immune system's stronger, cells repair faster, I guess. I haven't caught a cold in... Well, ever since.
[Daisy teases, trying to hide her delight when he moves to sit next to her on the bed by taking another sip of her coffee. Passing a glance at his metal arm again, Daisy looks up at him with an almost guilty expression if he caught her staring at his arm.
There’s still so many questions she has, and she’s sure Fitz-Simmons have even more. Honestly she’s surprised neither of them have come busting in. Maybe Jemma learned her lesson.]
So you’re not a lizard, got it.
[Leaning over the bed to put her mug on the floor for now, Daisy ignores the head rush she gets as she moves up again. Jemma has gotten on her before about drinking more water, but coffee is mostly water anyway.]
Now you’re just bragging.
[Clearly she doesn’t mind with that affection smile on her face.]
Maybe I am, [ Bucky says, with a flash of a grin at her pointing out his bragging. Some more of that pain-in-the-ass humour he mostly tends to wield around people like Sam. But her next comment gives him pause, thinking it over. ]
And nope. I mean, it makes sense that maybe HYDRA wouldn't have gotten the serum mixture right, but it seems like they recreated it fine.
[ Not everybody knew the real circumstances of what had happened to him — his pardon had been vague, trying not to publicly announce the sergeant's HYDRA-conditioned vulnerabilities to the world — but Daisy was SHIELD, so he figured she was already privy to some of the declassified information. He'd worked closely with the organisation's precursor in the form of the SSR, and SHIELD held most of the details on him. ]
Guess I'll never say never, but— it's lasted this long. So it seems pretty permanent.
[Daisy's smile fades when he brings up HYDRA. She can only imagine how awful that must've been for him, hell, it still has to be for him at times. Last night was a prime example of that. Having had her own personal experiences with HYDRA, she wishes they'd just disappear for good, but she just doesn't see that happening.]
I'm sorry.
[For bringing up bad memories, for him having to go through all of that.
Quickly she changes subjects, not wanting to make this conversation depressing as hell.]
I gotta ask. What's with the flip phone? You know it's the 21st century, right?
[And Daisy is a tech nerd, so it pains her to see him with such dated technology.]
[ He leans over, fishes for his phone on the bedside table and then turns it end-over-end in the palm of his hand, bemused. ]
It does what I need it to. I can make calls and text. I can play Snake. The smartphones just seem kinda overwhelming. Like, why do phones have to be smarter than I am?
[ Something warms unexpectedly in his chest at that. Just that small reassurance of someone actually wanting to see him, to be around him. It's something so easy to take for granted until you've been without it. Trying to pick through his words and decide what to say in return (while, meanwhile, that mountain grinds in his ribcage), he settles on: ]
I could make an exception for you.
[ a beat, then: ] And, I mean. You've got a pretty nice face I wouldn't mind looking at, either.
[ Uggghhhhh, Buck, why you gotta be such a dork— ]
[ Phones were expensive these days. Smartphones were ludicrously expensive compared to what he was used to. That was the other thing holding him back, but he'd get there eventually. He takes another sip from his coffee, head tipping back against the wall of the plane, feeling that faint vibrating hum all around them. ]
So do you guys just... stay up in the sky? All the time? Where do you land?
[ The logistics of all these agents living on the Bus was starting to pique Bucky's curiosity. How in the hell did it work? ]
[It takes a minute for it to hit her, he was willing to spend money on a phone just so they can talk. Her stomach does another flip, but she tries to keep her expression neutral.]
We land when we need to, where we need to. Sometimes we’re grounded for a day, but usually it’s only when we need to refuel or get called in.
[ There's a small teasing lilt to his voice, but then Bucky turns serious again, his words careful as he doesn't meet her eye for a moment. ]
You sure that'd be okay? I can't imagine I'm... your employer's most favourite person.
[ He'd never exactly planned on crossing this particular bridge, and still doesn't plan on going into it in detail, but it felt necessary to at least address. Accepting SHIELD's charity feels strange, ill-fitting. (There's a few names tucked away in his notebook. Relatives of agents he'd killed.) His debt to this agency, to what the SSR became, is hazy and still undefined. ]
[ There's a flicker that crosses his face, a faint wince, although he lets her take his hand. Bucky's still slumped against the wall and he glances down at her hand; his thumb hooks around one of her fingers, just the slightest anchoring contact. Bare skin-to-skin touch, even something as small as fingers grazing, still feels new to him. ]
It still happened, though. Doesn't change that fact.
[ The Winter Soldier had torn through the SHIELD pilots like a wrecking ball, leaving devastation in his wake on that helicarrier. If Daisy had been there at the time—
God. He doesn't want to ask this. Still doesn't want to cross this bridge, especially on the heels of such a nice evening and morning, but if not now, he's not sure they'll ever trip into it again. And something something, facing the past. That's what he's supposed to be doing. Isn't it? ]
[Daisy breaks eye contact with Bucky when he brings up a question she feared he might ask. Not because she at all saw this as his fault, but because she hasn’t thought about all of that in a while. It brings up a lot of bad memories for her. Ward’s betrayal, Fitz’s brain damage. All of it comes to the forefront of Daisy’s mind.]
Ironically? Just becoming an official field agent for SHIELD. Then SHIELD fell, so—
[Daisy smiles sadly, eyes lifting to meet his, she shrugs.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Hey.
[She croaked out, running a hand over her face before reaching over to pull down the blind. Flopping back down on the bed, she closed her eyes for what felt like minutes but in reality was maybe a minute before it fully sunk in that Bucky had actually spent the night, in her bed.
Act. Natural.
It's not like anything happened.
Eyes still closed, Daisy shifted so she was on her back, arm resting across her eyes.]
How're you feeling?
[She's not a person before she has coffee, but she's trying.]
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[ And he does feel fine, in fact. Bucky actually looks fresher than she does: the cuts and nicks on his skin have healed, and the conspicuous beginning to a bruise that should've worsened today has faded instead. That accelerated healing putting in the work overnight, his body already starting to laboriously piece itself back together while he rested. He won't be regrowing limbs anytime soon, but like how his metabolism is annoyingly sped-up, so is his recovery time.
He's half-burrowed into her spare pillow. Facing her, Bucky finds one last surviving piece of popcorn between them, and he smirks and tosses it out of the bed. There's something so oddly domestic about this whole scene, so there should probably be a riotous panic behind his ribcage at the fact that he'd spent the night with someone for the first time in— ages— but he just feels a kind of queasy happiness instead. Nerves fluttering in his chest, where they haven't taken root in so long. ]
How about you? Sorry if I kicked you in the night or anything.
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Like I got punched in the head, and that I need coffee.
[Smile growing, Daisy finally moves her arm to look at him tiredly. Squinting in the dimness she can see that scrapes on his face are gone and the confusion sets in on her face.]
You--?
I knew you could heal faster but that's just unfair.
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Told you so.
[ And she's mentioned coffee, and at the thought of it, Bucky realises he could also really do with a cup. He could lie here for a while with her, but that nervous energy needs somewhere to go, and he's usually so sleep-deprived that he needs that kick of caffeine in the morning too.
With a preemptive apology, he reaches an arm across her, and for a moment it looks like he's just going to sprawl his body over hers— but then he keeps going, a hand and a foot pressed into the covers on Daisy's other side, and he uses it to vault himself and roll neatly over her, almost falling out of the bed, but he thankfully catches himself at the last moment. They'd walked past the kitchen on this floor last night, so he remembers where it is, assumes he can probably figure out the coffee machine. He rises to his feet, instinctively rolls his shoulder again, checking the limberness of the arm after the damage it took yesterday. It's fine. ]
How do you take your coffee?
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She’s about to get up when Bucky is suddenly on top of her, and just as quickly is he off of her before she even has time to fully process it. Daisy wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted to bail now that they were awake, after how last night went...
A smile breaks out on her face this time when he offers to get her coffee. She almost tells him not to, but, it would give her a few minutes alone with her thoughts.]
Black, and there should be sugar packets next to the machine if you could bring me three?
[While he’s gone she quickly looks at her phone before tossing it to the end of the bed. Pulling her knees up, Daisy replays what happened last night in there head. Trying to think of anything she might’ve done wrong but coming up blank. Maybe it should feel awkward, but she can’t find any reason for it to be.]
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The man settles down on the edge of Daisy's bed, his weight sinking the mattress beside her, and he gently lobs the painkillers at her, then holds out the hot mug, his metal fingers gripping the edges so he can offer her the handle without minding the burning heat. Bemused: ]
Exactly three sugar packets?
[ He's restless this morning, but there's also a fondness in his gaze when he looks at Daisy, sitting back down on that cramped bed next to her. ]
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Smiling when he opens the door, Daisy manages to catch the pill bottle from him.]
Thanks.
[Taking out two, she grabs the coffee cup from him and drinks some so she can down the pills. Rolling her eyes fondly when he calls her out for the amount of sugar packets she uses.]
You're telling me you don't get specific with your coffee?
[Despite it being hot, Daisy is so used to burning her tongue that she takes another sip before scooting back on the bed so her back is against the wall. Whether he decides to sit on the edge of the bed, or scoot back with her is up to him. She takes a look at him from over the rim of his coffee mug, now that the window is open she can really see the lack of scrapes bruising on his body.]
So that's it? Overnight your body just repairs itself?
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Her question thankfully gives him something to focus on that isn't the warmth of her shoulder and her knee so close to his, though. Ugh. He really isn't used to this. ]
Not everything. It's not like I can, I dunno, regrow missing fingers. It's not a superpowered healing factor or anything.
[ If there were mutants like that out there, they'd successfully stayed off the general public's radar.
So far.]So it's just the same thing your body does, just... quicker. Like how my metabolism's quicker. Immune system's stronger, cells repair faster, I guess. I haven't caught a cold in... Well, ever since.
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[Daisy teases, trying to hide her delight when he moves to sit next to her on the bed by taking another sip of her coffee. Passing a glance at his metal arm again, Daisy looks up at him with an almost guilty expression if he caught her staring at his arm.
There’s still so many questions she has, and she’s sure Fitz-Simmons have even more. Honestly she’s surprised neither of them have come busting in. Maybe Jemma learned her lesson.]
So you’re not a lizard, got it.
[Leaning over the bed to put her mug on the floor for now, Daisy ignores the head rush she gets as she moves up again. Jemma has gotten on her before about drinking more water, but coffee is mostly water anyway.]
Now you’re just bragging.
[Clearly she doesn’t mind with that affection smile on her face.]
So it just never goes away? The serum.
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And nope. I mean, it makes sense that maybe HYDRA wouldn't have gotten the serum mixture right, but it seems like they recreated it fine.
[ Not everybody knew the real circumstances of what had happened to him — his pardon had been vague, trying not to publicly announce the sergeant's HYDRA-conditioned vulnerabilities to the world — but Daisy was SHIELD, so he figured she was already privy to some of the declassified information. He'd worked closely with the organisation's precursor in the form of the SSR, and SHIELD held most of the details on him. ]
Guess I'll never say never, but— it's lasted this long. So it seems pretty permanent.
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I'm sorry.
[For bringing up bad memories, for him having to go through all of that.
Quickly she changes subjects, not wanting to make this conversation depressing as hell.]
I gotta ask. What's with the flip phone? You know it's the 21st century, right?
[And Daisy is a tech nerd, so it pains her to see him with such dated technology.]
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[ He leans over, fishes for his phone on the bedside table and then turns it end-over-end in the palm of his hand, bemused. ]
It does what I need it to. I can make calls and text. I can play Snake. The smartphones just seem kinda overwhelming. Like, why do phones have to be smarter than I am?
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[Of course she smiles as she says it, because any chance to dig at his age is fun for her.]
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And what if that's exactly what I am?
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I don’t know, are you? Or are you willing to get with the 21st century and get a phone where we can video chat?
[She won’t admit it but she would love to see his face when they’re not together.]
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You wanna video chat?
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I wouldn’t mind seeing you even when we’re physically apart.
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I could make an exception for you.
[ a beat, then: ] And, I mean. You've got a pretty nice face I wouldn't mind looking at, either.
[ Uggghhhhh, Buck, why you gotta be such a dork— ]
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Wouldn’t want you making an exception just for me, but I wouldn’t mind looking at your face either.
[Of course she’s going to tease him, even if she means what she says.]
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[ Phones were expensive these days. Smartphones were ludicrously expensive compared to what he was used to. That was the other thing holding him back, but he'd get there eventually. He takes another sip from his coffee, head tipping back against the wall of the plane, feeling that faint vibrating hum all around them. ]
So do you guys just... stay up in the sky? All the time? Where do you land?
[ The logistics of all these agents living on the Bus was starting to pique Bucky's curiosity. How in the hell did it work? ]
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[It takes a minute for it to hit her, he was willing to spend money on a phone just so they can talk. Her stomach does another flip, but she tries to keep her expression neutral.]
We land when we need to, where we need to. Sometimes we’re grounded for a day, but usually it’s only when we need to refuel or get called in.
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[ There's a small teasing lilt to his voice, but then Bucky turns serious again, his words careful as he doesn't meet her eye for a moment. ]
You sure that'd be okay? I can't imagine I'm... your employer's most favourite person.
[ He'd never exactly planned on crossing this particular bridge, and still doesn't plan on going into it in detail, but it felt necessary to at least address. Accepting SHIELD's charity feels strange, ill-fitting. (There's a few names tucked away in his notebook. Relatives of agents he'd killed.) His debt to this agency, to what the SSR became, is hazy and still undefined. ]
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You're a hero, Bucky, and not just to SHIELD.
[Daisy reaches out to place her hand on top of his if he lets her.]
What happened to you wasn't your fault and everyone here knows it.
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It still happened, though. Doesn't change that fact.
[ The Winter Soldier had torn through the SHIELD pilots like a wrecking ball, leaving devastation in his wake on that helicarrier. If Daisy had been there at the time—
God. He doesn't want to ask this. Still doesn't want to cross this bridge, especially on the heels of such a nice evening and morning, but if not now, he's not sure they'll ever trip into it again. And something something, facing the past. That's what he's supposed to be doing. Isn't it? ]
Where were you? That day? Can I ask?
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Ironically? Just becoming an official field agent for SHIELD. Then SHIELD fell, so—
[Daisy smiles sadly, eyes lifting to meet his, she shrugs.]
I was used to being disappointed by that point.
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poss a wrap? ❤️