Buried Knives (A Bucky Barnes enemies to lovers story)

Part 7: Taxi Cab

"This is ridiculous."

"What?" She called from behind him. "The time, or the fact that you aren't even tired?"

"The fact," he eyed her warily, "that there are no taxis."

She was leaning against an airport support beam and yawning, eyes flicking over the people and buses passing them by. Tilting her head into the golden morning light, casting shadows on her face. She looked like a sleepy cat, ready to pounce.

He felt like an underpaid babysitter.

The flight hadn't been too bad. She slept for most of it, curled into the window. Her head had fallen onto his shoulder at one point, giving him a full view of her sleep calmed face. She was pretty, obviously so. A timeless kind of face, her nose scrunching every so often in sleep.

He'd taught himself long ago not to be fooled by shiny exteriors.

Grumbling to himself he pulled out his phone and opened the map app. He was tired. He didn't trust her so refused to sleep during the flight. But they needed to get where they were going. Would it be possible for them to walk...

"Would you..., " he turned, beginning to ask her if she'd be OK with walking only to find her sauntering away.

Why did he even bother?

"Alexa get back here," he hissed

She waved him off with a pale hand. Stopping at the edge of the road and beginning to speak to a leather-skinned, old man.

She still had the tranquilliser patch on her neck but that didn't feel like much. She'd most likely rip it from her neck and attack him if needs be. That left everyone in this airport in danger.

For now, he would have to be the babysitter. The underpaid, at risk babysitter.

Sighing he picked up their luggage, yes she had left him to carry it all, and started towards her. Dodging disgruntled passengers who cursed at him in Italian. He wanted to yell at them all that it was for their own good.

She was already talking to the man when he dumped the bags down begin her.

"Quella è la tua auto?" She nodded to a small, white car pulled up onto the curb.

"Sì," the man nodded.

"Puoi portarci al nostro albergo?"

"ehm..." He scratted a tanned, stubbly jaw. Looking behind him.

"L'uomo scontroso può pagarti." She gestured to Bucky.

What the hell was she saying? If he got surprise attacked by some Hydra agents right now he would kill Sam.

"Va bene allora," the man sighed.

"Fantastico!" She nodded, turning to find him glaring at her. "Good, you caught up. Get in the car."

"I have a gun in my pocket and I will pull it on you right now."

"How the hell do you-" she questioned. He reached a hand to his pocket. She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Not like that dumbass. I found us a ride."

She gestured to the car. The old man was already climbing into the car and grumbling at them.

It looked like a tin can on wheels. He wouldn't have been surprised to find it in a junk yard.