The Collection- Bucky Barnes

Just Friends vii: January

"I'm not going."

"Jules."

They stare off at each other through his bathroom mirror. Bucky's already all dressed in a dapper slick black tuxedo. Shoes on and everything. He's currently leaned about as close into his mirror as he can get in the effort of combing his hair perfectly and making it stay.

She huffs out a breath, crossing her arms over her chest. The sleeves of the robe she'd stolen from the Brattleboro bed and breakfast are a bit long and give her little paws over her hands. Her folded arms now rest comfortably atop her bump, which seems to grow a little every day now.

Which is precisely the problem. She's huge. Growing like a weed doesn't even begin to cover the baby's growth spurt as of late. She's growing out and it's just...growing. They've still got eight weeks left until her due date but at this point that's looking a bit too far away. Honestly, can her body even get any bigger?

She's always tired. Sleep seems like a figment of her imagination now more than ever. She pretty much lives in the bathroom. The stairs are impossible without Bucky's- actually, most things she can't do without him. Getting up the stairs, shaving her legs, painting her toes, sometimes getting dressed, putting her shoes on. She'd really be up the creek without him.

He puts down his comb and spins around to face her. Eyebrows arched defiantly and hands braced against the counter.

"Buck, I'm not going." She's determined. Frankly, she doesn't care how many people she promised her attendance to. She's super pregnant and super tired. That, in her opinion, trumps any Stark New Years Gala. "I look like a beached whale!"

She'd bought the dress big weeks ago in the hope it would fit perfect when the time came around for the gala. And true to her instinct, the time came and the dress fit wonderfully. She just doesn't feel wonderful in it. She'd taken one look in the mirror and immediately thrown her robe on.

"Jules-."

"No." She snaps at him. What the hell does he know anyway? He's always been attractive. He's never been pregnant! "I'm not going to that party where there are gonna bee a hundred beautiful women and I'm there looking like freaking Tilikum the whale. I'm humongous and I feel gross and hideous and I just wanna stay home."

Bucky pushes off the bathroom counter. His hands curve around her shoulders and he leans down to be at eye level with her. "Honey," he says real slow in that damn sugared voice, "you're pregnant. S'all baby that you're packing, yeah? Means our girl is gettin' good and strong so we can meet her soon, right?" She mumbles out a sure, whatever. Why does he always have to be so...right? "You've never been hideous a day in your life; you're gorgeous, Juliette."

Any other time, any other words, she would've cursed him for full-naming her. But with that voice...and how he says the word gorgeous and calls her honey, she feels like a billion bucks.

"Shut up." She mutters, looking away from him.

He lets her go and then motions to her robe. "Can I?" Slowly, she nods. She has to look anywhere else, she can't look at the precocious way his fingers untie the belt of her robe. And when his hands move to brush it down off her shoulders and onto the floor, she keeps her gaze locked on herself in the reflection of his mirror.

As she focuses on the image of his back in the mirror, he steps back from her. Her skin burns as he scours over her appearance, head to toe. Finely managed blond curls pulled back into an elegant ponytail all the way to the dress (a knee length green velvet number with chiffon straps that tie at the shoulders and a balconette neckline) to the comfy, short-heeled pumps. The dress is a bit more risqué than she had originally thought it would be. But her boobs have grown a lot (thanks, breast milk).