Fire and Ice

•48•

Bucky sighs. Everything they gave him is put away, organized, the hut nice and neat. The sun is setting, and he could really use a meal right now. He snacked on a bit of fruit, but he hasn't actually made dinner yet. He has the supplies, the food. He could easily make a fire right now — outside the hut.

He hasn't heard from Kate since he left her out there. He could hear her going into her hut, then a few bumps and crashes as she put things away, followed by some tame exclamation — "Crap!" or an irritated "Goodness gracious great balls of fire." It made him chuckle.

He feels bad about what happened before, how he acted. Especially knowing she's... a fan of his for some reason, he didn't want to make her upset by rejecting her like that or being mean about the situation. He was just afraid of hurting her. Being out here, alone, was putting her in danger, never mind the fact that she had fought him before. She had help, but... she wasn't bad. At the very least, he doesn't have his metal arm...

Maybe it'll be okay, just for a bit, as long as they don't talk about it. He can apologize, explain, and then they can keep their distance for the rest of the time they're here. It probably won't be long — a few days, maybe. In any case, he still isn't clear on the whole situation of her still being here. How long has it been since Steve left? He's assuming Steve left.

He sighs again, deciding to ask Kate to eat dinner together. Maybe she's already eaten, anyway. Maybe she won't want to — she's realized he was right and has decided to stay away from him. Fat chance, but maybe. They don't have to talk about anything that might lead into dangerous territory. They can talk about... normal things, not that they really know what normal is.

Outside her doorway, the curtains closed in front of it, he can hear her humming a tune he doesn't recognize. Should he knock on the wall? Clear his throat? He can't just open the curtains without warning-

"Are you going to stand out there and continue letting me be bored or are you going to come in?" she asks.

Her tone is still that nervous, excited one she's had with him during their science conversations. The one that reminds him of her... He doesn't know what to call it. Sam called it an obsession, but she seemed embarrassed by that. She knows about him. He's... her favorite Howling Commando. That's an insane thought.

At the very least, she's started being able to joke with him, to look at him more like a normal person than just with unabashed awe. Not that he's not flattered — he just can't help but be uncomfortable when she looks at him like that. She shouldn't.

He chuckles at her question, gently opening the curtain. She's sitting there, braiding her hair in tiny, haphazard sections. "I heard your footsteps."

"Should've thought of that."

"I know; you're more spy than I am."

He chuckles again, then takes a breath, half in and half out of the doorway. "Listen... do you want to... eat dinner outside? So we're not just...  alone in our huts?"

She smiles, untangling her braids. "I don't see why not."

"You will," he mumbles, turning to get a fire started. He starts by gathering wood, then putting it all in one spot. She brings out a large bowl and the ingredients for a stew, fresh but packaged together, then hands it to him, immediately taking over fire duty. He laughs. "Sorry, I forgot you could just... you know."

She laughs, too. "Yeah, I... guess it can be useful once in a while."

He goes to get some water — there's a spring not far from them, which unfortunately means there's people not far from them.

They soon begin cooking their meal as the sky gets darker. Words weigh on his chest while he looks at her, fire lighting up her face, her freckles, her scar, her concentrated brow. She's bouncing her knee, but he doesn't think it's from anxiousness. Or maybe it is. He feels anxious, at least a little. Apprehensive. He can't tell exactly if what he said when she first arrived really hurt her or not, but he doesn't really want to take that risk.