Not The Only One - A Winter Soldier Story

Chapter 24

June 29, 2016

     I flopped down onto my sleeping bag dramatically.

     "I'm bored," I groaned.

     Bucky was sitting on top of the bar with his legs folded together in a x-shape.

     He lifted his head up from the book he had been intently reading and suggested, "How about you keep reading the book Steve got you? What was it called? The Giving?"

     "The Giver and I already finished it," I complained.

     "What? How did you finish it already?" Bucky asked in astonishment.

     I shrugged. "I'm a quick reader."

     "Fine, then you can read my book," he offered me his copy of To Kill A Mockingbird.

     I chuckled. "But I read all of it last night."

     Bucky looked at me in disbelief.

     "Couldn't sleep," I explained.

     "Uhh, you could clean. If you want to," he suggested.

     I sighed in exasperation. "Bucky, there's nothing left to clean! This place is as spotless as it will ever get! Even all of our clothes are clean!"

     Bucky's confused shrug revealed that he was out of ideas.

     "I don't like being cooped up in here all day. Makes me feel like a caged animal. All I want is to be free."

     Bucky gently reminded me, "You know what Steve said, Doll. You're considered an infamous HYDRA agent, a terrorist, and an assassin no matter what you did or didn't do. It's not going to change how they see you, at least not right now."

     "Yeah, I know," I grumbled. "That's easy for Steve to say since he gets to stay out and about all damn day."

     Bucky closed his book and set it down next to him.

    "Okay then, since there's nothing for you to do here and you're dying of boredom, I guess I'm going to have to entertain you," he teased me.

     I scoffed, "Yeah, whatever."

     He got down off of the bar and walked over to me.

     "I'm serious!" he insisted as he sat down on his sleeping bag which was next to mine.

     "Okay, fine," I gave in. "How are you going to entertain me?"

     Bucky replied, "With an engaging conversation, of course."

     "What is there to talk about?" I asked. "I don't remember anything except the last four days."

     "There's other things to talk about."

      "Like what?"

      "Like how many languages do you speak?" Bucky asked.

      I whined, "You already know the answer to that question. Two. English and Russian."

     "Alright. Do you speak any others?"

     "No, not that I know of."

     "Well, just think about it," he encouraged.

      I thought for a few moments.

     "I know some halfway decent French."

      "See? That's cool! I don't know any French, but Steve is fluent in it."

      "Really?"

      "Yeah."

      "So I know you speak English and Russian, but do you speak any other languages?" I asked, turning Bucky's question back around towards him.

     "Yes, I do. I am fluent in Romanian, German, and Japanese."

     I rolled my eyes. "Showoff."

     "Hey, you're the one who asked," Bucky defended himself. "I bet language learning comes easy to you now."

     "You think so?"

     Bucky nodded. "What if I taught you German and you taught me French?"

      "Why do I need to know German?" I asked.

     "German is often spoken in Ukraine along with the native Ukrainian as well as Russian and English," he explained.

     "Okay," I conceded. "But why do you need to know French?"

      "So you and Steve can't have conversations without me, naturally," he joked. "Plus it would give you something to do."

     "It would be easier if we had some books in German and French though."

     "I'll call Steve and have him get us some."

      "Notebooks and pens would be nice too," I suggested.

      The rest of the afternoon flew by in a blur as we exchanged basic words with each other.

     "So I hear you two are starting a school now?" Steve teased as he gave us our desired items upon his return.

     I replied, "Something like that."

      "Anything from Natasha yet?" Bucky asked Steve.

      The blond shook his head.

     "Do you think that they caught her?" I suggested.

      "No," Steve replied. "Natasha would only be in their custody if it was where she wanted to be. And if they had caught her, Secretary Ross would have it all over the news."

      Bucky asked, "Then why do you think that she hasn't got back to you?"

     "I don't know, " Steve admitted. "She's never disappeared like this before. I could always get up with her in some way."

      "Do you think she's okay?" I asked.

     "Yeah, she's Natasha. I'm sure she's fine," Steve said, trying to sound casual about the whole affair.

     I could tell that Steve was worried about his dear friend and that he was only clinging to hope at this point.

     All night long two questions circled around in my head: Where in the world was Natasha Romanova? And what the hell was she doing?