Soft Robotics ✧ Bucky Barnes

51. TACTICAL

"I swear Grace just has that effect on people."

It kept repeating in my head, what Sam had said in the car. It was driving me crazy.

He was right; Grace did have this look she'd give me. I didn't think she knew she was even doing it most of the time. But it was this wide eyed, adoring, trusting look that made my chest ache and gave me this sense of urgency, like I needed to take care of her somehow. I always felt like I needed to do something right then. Usually I'd kiss her forehead. That kept me busy enough to resist blurting out something dumb like "Marry me" or "How many kids do you want?" or "No, I mean it: I'm 104 and insane please marry me and have my fucking kids I love you so much."

The fact that she could use that look and make anybody fall in love with her, and she just chose to use it on me, would've made me miserable yesterday. But now that she was mine, that she couldn't just skip off and use it on anybody she met, it didn't make me miserable at all.

I hadn't felt like somebody really needed me in a long time. But when Grace would cling to me and thank me for protecting her and come to me for comfort, I felt like I was doing something good, something that nobody else could do. Like she needed me. And that felt really fucking good.

"I wanna shower," she said, lifting her head up to look at me. She was still on my lap, on the couch in my apartment. I moved my arms from around her so she could get up. "No, come with me."

She stood up and tugged at my hands. I followed her, letting her drag me into the bathroom.

"Are you just trying to make sure I'm not bleeding out?" I complained half-heartedly as she pulled my shirt off.

"You promised me I could look at it."

I'd forgotten about it. The stab wounds hurt if I thought about them, but I didn't really register pain anymore unless it came from an old scar or it could be enough to kill me.

"You can look at it, doll," I told her. I liked it when she doted on me anyway. She cared way more about me than I did. And there was something so innocent and warm about the way she worried even when I was going to be fine.

"Oh my god." She gasped at the sight. It really wasn't that bad.

"I'm fine, sweetheart, please don't worry."

I almost wished she hadn't seen it, since it was really bothering her. But she would've seen it eventually regardless. I didn't want to hide it bad enough to not fuck her later.

"You gotta get in the shower," she said. "You're covered in blood."

I couldn't help but smile as she started undressing me herself by pulling knives out of my pockets, starting a pile on the sink.

"Be careful; that's loaded," I told her as she crouched down to take my boots off and pulled out a holstered pistol.

"Yeah, I figured. Do you ever keep them unloaded?"

"No. Do you have a pistol permit?"

"All I did was move it!"

"No." I snorted. "I meant could you get one for yourself?"

"Guns freak me out."

She started undoing my belt and pants, and I held her hands still so I could focus. "Maybe think about one for your apartment. When you move back."

"I have a really big kitchen knife."

"...Baby, have you shot a gun before?"

"I used to test out lasers and stuff in the lab."

"No, I mean an actual gun."

"Have you met me?"

"I'll teach you," I said. I released her hands, and she busied herself with taking her own clothes off, purposely distracting me.

I'd done this a thousand times—limped injured into the shower and rinsed the blood from my body. But it was so much better with her doing it instead, pressing a washcloth against me gently, a soft hand running over my skin in comfort. She made me stoop down so she could wash my hair herself too.

I knew I was never going to be able to come home to any empty apartment after a mission again without missing her painfully, wishing she was around to touch me and fuss over me. Maybe she'd come over on those nights if I asked her.

"Are you gonna stay here with me again until it's safe?" I asked her. "Not at Romanoff's?"

"Mhm," she said, her little fingers against my scalp. "I'll bring the rest of my stuff back over today."

I wondered when the start date was for it not to be insane to ask her to move in with me permanently. How many months did I have to wait before I could I ask her? I didn't think Steve would know. Used to, you had to be married to live with a woman. Maybe I'd ask Sam.

I sent him a text when I was out of the shower and dressed again: How long do I have to wait before I can ask Grace to move in with me permanently? How long do we have to date first? Full disclosure: it has not been 24 hours yet.

He replied quickly: Don't ask me. You two don't operate by normal people rules.

"Who's that?" Grace asked concernedly, joining me in the living room. "Do they need you?"

She was giving me an alternate version of the Look, one with her head tilted and her brows furrowed with worry, but equally as trusting and adoring. It had the same effect.

"No," I said quickly, panicking, jamming my phone into my pocket. "Um, do you wanna move in with me? Forever, I mean."

A/N: The first chapter of the TFATWS spin off that I mentioned in the last chapter is up on my profile; it's called "CALL HER." I got the idea for it and then I couldn't wait to write it, so I'll be updating both of these stories simultaneously, with most of my attention and faster updates going to this one tho💖💖💖