Red Star ✴️ Bucky Barnes X Reader

22: Four Days

--- 4 DAYS ---

Bucky threw a punch Bowman's way, hitting her in the shoulder. It barely moved her, but Bucky pursed his lips in disapproval.

"Arms up. You gotta keep your arms up." Bucky commented, holding his forearms at shoulder height to reference. Bowman copied his pose. "Perfect."

He threw a punch, and she blocked it.

"MUCH better!" He smiled, throwing another punch her way. She blocked it again.

She shot him a funny look. "You know, you can use both arms."

He glanced at his metal arm before shrugging. "You're not going to be fighting anyone with a metal arm."

"I won't be fighting anyone one-handed either," she snarked.

"You got a point there," he smirked, before throwing a punch with his metal arm.

She dodged the punch, bending down and pushing his chest. It knocked him off balance, pushing him back a few feet.

"Nice footwork!" He complimented. He put his arms up in a defensive fighting stance, but Bowman's eyes glanced over at the recreational section of the gym.

"Are we going to do any weapon's training?"

Bucky scrunched his eyebrows. "Like, sharpshooting? You're not going to need sniper practice, besides we're trying to go for no casualties."

Her eyes snapped back to Bucky's before wandering back over to the recreational section. "Well..."

She shook her head, turning her focus back to Bucky. "You're right. I don't need that."

He looked at her, confused. "What? Something on your mind?"

She smiled, eyes darting away before returning to his. "It's nothing. I've just had special training. Guess I'm curious. But you're right. It's not needed."

Trying to change the topic, she threw a punch Bucky's way. He caught her punch.

"Actually, having some varied exercise would be good for you. What training was it?"

Her eyes darted to the ground, almost embarrassed.

"... Archery..."

Bucky's mind immediately returned to what Steve told him just a few days ago. She knows Clint.. maybe this is why?

"Well, why don't we try it out?" He smiled, freeing her fist and exiting the ring. "It'd be good to vary your skills."

Bowman nodded, a nervous bounce in her step as they approached the recreational area.

The recreational area had a long stretch of mat that could be used for gymnastics, but Bowman repurposed it into a shooting range. She went over to the wall where a shelving unit held several containers, each marked with a different label. She went towards the front of the list, pulling out the "archery" bin.

In the bin were a series of bow sizes and types, as well as a few basic sets of arrows. All of them had curved tips designed to break through a foam target but couldn't break human skin. Bowman dropped her shoulders, relaxing at the sight of a harmless weapon.

As Bowman lightly tested different bows from the selection, Bucky picked up a bow.

"How long has it been since you've played with one of these things?" He asked, fiddling with the string.

"Too long." She chuckled, picking up a long recurve bow. She pulled the string back, which extended to just past her cheek. Perfect.

Bow in hand, Bowman grabbed one of the drawstring quivers and approached the long gymnastics mat. At the end was a foam wall where different types of equipment could be attached to the wall: perfect for absorbing arrows.

"Want me to find you a target?" Bucky asked.

"No," Bowman grinned, eyes focused ahead. "I'll make my own."

In one swift motion, Bowman lifted the bow, grabbed an arrow from her quiver, and set it in the sight of the bow. She took a few, slow breaths as her eyes trailed from the tip of the arrow to her imaginary target.

Kill.

Startled, Bowman released the arrow, which shot across the room and struck at chest level, right where a heart would be.

Bucky nodded approvingly. "Pretty good shot."

Bowman nodded in agreement. "...Maybe I should grab a target. Gives me something to center on."

Holding up his hand in a 'say no more' gesture, Bucky turned to the wall of recreation to grab a sheet with a target painted on it from the Archery bin.

"Getting some midnight practice?"

Bowman turned to see T'Challa approaching their practice area.

"Yeah... Wait, shouldn't you be asleep?"

T'Challa shrugged. "Should be? Yes. But sadly time zones are a thing. I just finished handling the plans for Zemo's shipment with the EU and INTERPOL."

"Things go well?"

"About as well as any diplomacy does, which is to say..." T'Challa held his hand out, stretching his fingers and tilting his hand back in forth. Bowman giggled.

"So, archery?"

Bowman nodded, looking down range to see Bucky attaching the sheet to the wall. "Yeah! It's something I was trained in a long time back. I was curious how good my skills held up."

T'Challa nodded, watching Bucky struggle to tack up the sheet before finally working it out and walking away. "Well, fire away."

With a smile, Bowman turned her attention down range. She repeated her swift motion, slowing her breath.

In.

Out.

Aim.

The arrow glided through the air with ease, moving like a ballet dancer on a pirouette. It's graceful movements cut the air like a knife before slicing through the foam.

Bullseye.

T'Challa nodded approvingly. "I would say your skills held up indeed."

Bowman smiled. "Thank you," she replied, but her eyes stayed transfixed on her perfect shot. I still got it. Bucky couldn't miss the pride glint in her eyes.

"Well, I will allow you to return to practice. Bucky, Bowman," T'Challa smiled, nodding to each person as he addressed them as a friendly goodbye.

"Oh, wait, T'Challa!" Bowman squeaked, quickly catching the king before he left.

"Uh, I had a question."

He raised an eyebrow, as if asking her to go on.

"Well, uh... Long story, but I... I kind of broke my shower. It was by accident, and I take full responsibility, I'd just... Really appreciate it if I can have the parts to fix it."

T'Challa held up his hand. "Say no more, I'll be sure to add it to the lead engineer's docket."

Bowman nodded. "Thank you," she smiled, before bouncing back to Bucky to continue practice.

Bucky shot her a sly smile. "Ready to make more bullseyes?"