"We make a pretty good team, don't we?" Bucky spoke, a small smile on his face as he glanced up at Rowan through his long dark hair.
"Even with Sam, hey?" Rowan questioned, returning his smile.
*going through major editing*
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Chapter Eleven
Bucky's eyebrows furrowed as he awoke, his gaze falling on Rowan flipping a pancake in the air with a look of satisfaction. She caught it effortlessly, mumbling a quiet "nice" to herself, clearly proud of her culinary prowess.
"How did you even know I was here?" Rowan spoke, meeting Bucky's eyes, pointing the spatula at him with a touch of exasperation.
"Your phone number."
"What?" Rowan's eyes widened in shock.
"Washington, you gave me your number and told me to call if I was in trouble. I've been tracking your phone since then, just in case," Bucky explained, his tone calm despite his obvious discomfort.
"You can't do that!" Rowan's frustration was palpable as she ran her hands through her hair and paced the kitchen.
"Actually, I can. I've learned how," Bucky said, a smirk playing on his lips.
"No! No! No!" Rowan protested, her pacing becoming more frantic. "I don't want you tracking me."
"Bring the noise down, please. I'm injured," Bucky said, trying to keep a smirk off his face as he relaxed back on the couch.
"Oh, shut up. You're a super soldier. You'll be healed by the end of the day," Rowan retorted, though her eyes softened slightly as she looked at him.
"You don't know that for sure," Bucky said, his gaze meeting hers with a vulnerability that made Rowan's heart ache.
"You aren't getting any pancakes with that attitude," Rowan said with a raised eyebrow. Bucky rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the small smile tugging at his lips. "Now, what happened? I want to know how you, James Buchanen Barnes—"
Bucky winced at the name, and Rowan's face softened with regret. "I mean James," she corrected, watching for his reaction. The name seemed to sit better with him. "How did you end up so banged up?"
"Does it really matter?" Bucky asked, his tone more resigned than defensive.
"Does it matter? Yes! I want to know why you've been: 1. Stalking me, 2. Why you went after Hydra, and 3. Why I can't call Steve?" Rowan's tone was firm, but there was a hint of concern underlying her frustration.
"Is that supposed to be a weapon?" Bucky asked, a playful glint in his eye as he gestured to the spatula.
"Yes, and I'd be scared if I were you," Rowan said, moving the spatula closer to him with a mock menacing look.
"If I recall, the last time we faced off, I kicked you off a helicarrier... 300 feet in the air," Bucky said with a smirk.
"I let you win," Rowan shot back with a teasing grin.
"Yeah, okay." Bucky reached for the spatula with his metal hand, but Rowan quickly pulled it away.
"It's still hot. You'll burn yourself, here have this. It's good." Rowan said, grabbing a pancake and tossing it to him. Bucky caught it, though his smile was slightly strained as he took a bite.
"Yeah, really good," Bucky said, trying to be polite despite the pancake being cold. Rowan noticed his effort and gave a soft chuckle.
"I know, I made it," Rowan said, turning to head back to her room. "You should check those wounds. There's ointment in the bathroom."
Bucky nodded, making his way to the bathroom. As he entered, he was greeted by the sound of modern music—loud drums and guitars that felt both unfamiliar and invigorating. He could hear Rowan's voice, singing off-key but with genuine enthusiasm. Bucky grabbed the ointment of the sink, applying it to the wounds that littered his body before making his way back to the living room.
Leaning against the hallway wall, Bucky watched as Rowan danced around the kitchen, using the spatula as a microphone and getting lost in the music. Her carefree energy was magnetic, and he felt a pang of warmth in his chest.
"Well, who is he, baby? Who is he? And tell me what he means to you!" Rowan sang passionately, pretending to play an imaginary guitar. "Now it cuts like a knife, but it feels so right!"
Rowan spun around, her eyes widening as she saw Bucky leaning against the wall with a raised eyebrow. "How long have you been there?" she exclaimed, dropping the spatula and looking flustered.
"Long enough to catch your performance," Bucky said with a teasing smile.
"You can't just sneak around! And you still haven't answered my three questions!" Rowan's frustration was tinged with a hint of embarrassment.
"Oh right, the questions," Bucky said, feigning deep thought. "What were they again?"
"Stalking me, Hydra, and Steve," Rowan said, her patience wearing thin.
"I've been tracking you because Hydra has been trying to find you," Bucky explained, sitting back on the couch. "Hydra is still out there, and I want to take them down. I'm better equipped to handle it myself."
"Steve mentioned someone else was getting to the bases first. They're looking for Loki's staff. Sam and I thought it was Asgardians. " Rowan said, concern evident in her voice. "Guess we were wrong."
"Who's Loki?" Bucky asked, his curiosity piqued.
"A guy who sent a bunch of aliens to New York. It was a weird situation," Rowan shrugged.
"and Steve... I'm not ready to see him," Bucky said softly, his gaze dropping. "He'd be disappointed in me."
"It's okay. Let's focus on Hydra," Rowan suggested, trying to keep the conversation on track.
Bucky nodded and retrieved the black backpack, spreading out the Hydra files on the coffee table. Rowan's eyes widened as she looked at the documents. They revealed disturbing information about Hydra's continued experiments on enhanced individuals. "Oh my god."
"We need to stop this. They're creating more subjects, just like they did with us," Bucky said quietly. He met Rowan's eyes, and for a moment, the shared weight of their past seemed to draw them closer.
"I think I should call Steve about this..." Rowan started, but Bucky shook his head.
"No. You said it yourself—they're already after Loki's staff. Adding more to their case could be detrimental," Bucky reasoned.
"What about Sam?" Rowan asked.
"No way. I don't like 'bird brain'," Bucky said with a hint of stubbornness.
"Don't call him that. He's my friend," Rowan said, rolling her eyes. "I can't lie to Steve,"
"Then avoid the truth," Bucky suggested. Rowan looked at him, her disbelief evident. "I used to do it all the time."
"You're an idiot," she said with a small smile.
"I need your help, Rowan. I've realized that I can't do this alone. And you're more powerful than I am," Bucky admitted.
Rowan smirked, her earlier confidence returning. "That's true."
"Okay, I'm in. When do we start?" Rowan asked, her voice filled with determination and a spark of excitement.
Bucky's smile broadened, and for a moment, the tension between them felt like something more. The warmth in his eyes and the softness in Rowan's gaze spoke of a burgeoning connection, even amidst the chaos surrounding them.
