[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.]
[ Bucky waves his metal hand, the one that isn't still interlinked with hers; gesturing to her quarters, the massive plane around them. ]
You came back to the organisation. You guys must have been rebuilding.
[ He doesn't actually know very much of what had happened with SHIELD in the years in-between; it's one of the blank spots on the map that he hadn't gotten to pay attention to, while he'd had so much else going on. Living on the run or being sequestered away in Wakanda, off-grid. ]
[Daisy’s smile brightens a little when he points that out.]
Never stopped really, even when we weren’t official for a while.
[Maybe it was stupid. How much she just wanted that badge to mean something. She didn’t have many goals growing up other than to find her parents. So to want to work towards something, it just meant a lot to her.
This couldn’t be easy for him to hear or talk about, so she tries to give him an out.]
We don’t have to keep talking about it, if you don’t want to.
[ He hesitates, trying to figure out if he does want to keep going down this road. He'll have more questions down the line, probably. This is the organisation born from the SSR; the one that thawed Steve; employed Nat for a while; put together the Avengers. It feels like Bucky's been nipping at their heels for decades now, circling them, with all these unexpected, vague connections to his life. ]
I don't think I have any more questions right now, really, except—
[ His voice is faint, bemused and a little disbelieving: ] Is my name actually carved on a wall at headquarters?
[She does a decent job of hiding her concern when he makes it clear he's going to ask something else, but her eyes light up immediately when he asks her about the wall of valor.]
It is.
[Would the next part freak him out? Or would it brighten his day? She risks bringing it up anyway.]
You're in history books too. Non-SHIELD ones. Not that I paid much attention in school, but, I definitely recognized your name on that wall because of history class.
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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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[ Bucky waves his metal hand, the one that isn't still interlinked with hers; gesturing to her quarters, the massive plane around them. ]
You came back to the organisation. You guys must have been rebuilding.
[ He doesn't actually know very much of what had happened with SHIELD in the years in-between; it's one of the blank spots on the map that he hadn't gotten to pay attention to, while he'd had so much else going on. Living on the run or being sequestered away in Wakanda, off-grid. ]
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[Daisy’s smile brightens a little when he points that out.]
Never stopped really, even when we weren’t official for a while.
[Maybe it was stupid. How much she just wanted that badge to mean something. She didn’t have many goals growing up other than to find her parents. So to want to work towards something, it just meant a lot to her.
This couldn’t be easy for him to hear or talk about, so she tries to give him an out.]
We don’t have to keep talking about it, if you don’t want to.
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[ He hesitates, trying to figure out if he does want to keep going down this road. He'll have more questions down the line, probably. This is the organisation born from the SSR; the one that thawed Steve; employed Nat for a while; put together the Avengers. It feels like Bucky's been nipping at their heels for decades now, circling them, with all these unexpected, vague connections to his life. ]
I don't think I have any more questions right now, really, except—
[ His voice is faint, bemused and a little disbelieving: ] Is my name actually carved on a wall at headquarters?
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It is.
[Would the next part freak him out? Or would it brighten his day? She risks bringing it up anyway.]
You're in history books too. Non-SHIELD ones. Not that I paid much attention in school, but, I definitely recognized your name on that wall because of history class.
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poss a wrap? ❤️