The Collection- Bucky Barnes

Off the Clock- i

In the grand scheme of things, Y/N really does not have the time to be a babysitter. She barely has time to sleep with her schedule the way it is. But, alas, she needs money. Apartments aren't cheap, even when splitting rent with two other people.

It isn't as if babysitting little Will Barnes is a lot of work, because it's not. He's a good kid, as good as a seven year old can be. He does have his meltdown days and he's a nightmare when sick. But most of the time, Will is a sweetheart.

She's been babysitting him long enough that she can work her school schedule around him. He has school from nine to three Monday through Friday, so she makes sure her classes are always between those hours. There have been a few occasions where she's had to miss a class to pick him up early if he got sick at school, but when you're the babysitter for an Avenger, the professors tend to be pretty lenient with the absences.

Will's dad is a superhero, one of Earth's Mightiest. James Buchanan Barnes, Bucky to friends. The Winter Soldier.

She admits that the first time they met, she was scared shitless. Granted, she was nervous anyway because she really needed the money and wasn't the best interviewee. And Mr. Barnes was- still is- intimidating as hell. Observant, all-seeing blue eyes that melt for and only for his son. When not focused on Will, his gaze is stern and upsetting. Tall, thick all over in a muscular way that lets you know he can easily snap you in half. Smiles aren't rare, necessarily, but they don't come easily. A mess of dark hair that's more often than not, tied back at the nape of his neck. When it isn't, it dusts just under his ears.

"Y/N, can we have dinosaur nuggets for dinner?"

It's one of those nights when Mr. Barnes sends a text saying he'll be home late. Paperwork is a bad guy in its own right.

She hums, genuinely considering the suggestion. She hasn't cooked anything and the fridge is looking pretty sparse. There is, though, almost a whole bag of dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets in the freezer.

Y/N tries to make actual dinner when she has to stay that late. Mr. Barnes doesn't usually have the energy to cook and so the two boys don't often get good home-cooked meals.

But it's a Thursday and Mr. Barnes always grocery shops on Sunday mornings. The pickings are slim.

"Please?" Will tugs on the loose sleeve of her sweatshirt. "I promise not to spill ketchup this time." The reason there's now a no-eating-in-the-living-room rule.

"Ah, you win." She says dramatically. He pumps his fist in the air as she opens the freezer and pulls out the bag. "Here, you put them on the sheet and I'll start the oven."

Will is precise and careful as he pours at least twenty of the nuggets onto the cooking sheet. She turns the oven so it will preheat to 425 degrees.

"Whoa there, dude. You think we're gonna chow down on..." she mentally counts the nuggets (there are 34) "34 dino nuggets?"

"Some for Daddy." In that duh tone of voice.

She clicks her tongue. Obviously he expects his father to be home in time to eat with them. "Smart thinking, big guy. Why don't you go pick up your toys so your room is clean when your dad gets back?"

She's pretty lenient with Will when it comes to his toys. In a way his dad isn't. Mr. Barnes has a big thing about toys always being put away right after being used. Y/N simply makes sure they're away before Mr. Barnes comes home or before Will goes to sleep. Whatever comes first.

Mostly, it's when Will goes to bed.

On the counter by the sink, her phone is ringing. Probably Mara asking if she can use her notes to study for the quiz tomorrow. Except, it's Mr. Barnes.