This Is Stella's Reality

July 13, 2014

A steady rhythm of fists beating into a punching bag thundered through the hallways leading to the training room. By the continuous, unwavering punches, it had to be Steve or Bucky. Nobody else could pound into a punching bag that long without getting tired, no matter what Clint claimed.

It was nearing dusk, and the lights were off in the training room. Only the gentle blue light of the moon from the skylights trickled to the cold concrete floor. From down the hallway, I could see the large shadow of a super soldier swaying back and forth to swing into the bag.

I rounded the corner, and Bucky was standing alone, beating the stuffing from the punching bag. I stood and watched him for a moment. It always shocked me how large he was. He was so gentle, kind, a true boy scout, it was amazing how with the flip of a switch, he could become so rough and aggressive. His hair bounced wildly around his face in a frenzy of brown curls.

Suddenly, the bag flew off of its hook and thundered to the ground. Bucky sighed and turned to face where I was standing. He gave me a warm smile, "I heard you come in, doll."

I stepped closer to him, "Oh did you now?"

Bucky grabbed his bottle of water and squeezed it into his mouth. He smiled in response, "You can't sneak up on me."

We stared at each other for a while, dust floated in the space between us and danced in a swirling vortex. He was especially handsome tonight. His hair was damp with sweat, it stuck to his face, his chest heaved from effort, and the adrenalin had blown his pupils wide.

"Did you come to train?" He was staring at me, and his cold blue eyes studied my every move. Our game of chicken was turning into one of cat and mouse.

"Yeah. I felt a little restless."

Bucky nodded, "Me too. Do you want to train alone?"

I shrugged at him. We had never trained together before, and the thought of doing so sent shivers down my spine. I sucked my teeth, "It doesn't matter to me."

He grinned at me, "Come to the mat with me. This punching bag isn't cutting it for me."

Bucky leaped over the ropes surrounding the boxing ring and stood in the middle, waiting for me to join him. I ducked between two ropes, and I felt his eyes still watching me.

We had an unspoken, flirty relationship that often put butterflies in my stomach, but this was a different feeling. Bucky was so uncharacteristically quiet. The look in his eyes was dark, and in a way, it reminded me of the look he had given that blonde man at the bar a week prior. He looked dangerous.

I stepped closer to him, and he circled me like a wolf studying his dinner. He walked behind me and hovered his hand over my hip, "May I?" My heart skipped a beat, and I nodded wordlessly, not even thinking about what it is he was asking permission to do.

His hand pulled my right hip against his body, putting me in a stance at an angle. He kicked my feet further apart and moved to stand in front of me. He studied my posture for a moment, "You don't fight hand-to-hand much, do you?"

I rolled my eyes at him, "No, I have my magic, so I fight from a distance most of the time."

He nodded, "You need to at least learn to defend yourself."

"What should I do?"

Bucky flashed me a wicked grin and took a few steps back. He looked menacing in the fading blue light, and my whole body felt frozen in place; I was a deer in headlights.

He threw a few soft punches towards me, and I blocked them before he could touch me. "Good," he mumbled every time my forearm hit his. But his pace quickened, and he moved closer to me. Bucky had me pinned to the corner of the ring, and his lips pulled into a smile, "Oh, come on, doll. You can do better than this."