Amends (Sambucky)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Sam patted his face dry with his towel, the door slightly propped open so that he could hear Bucky should he decide to talk. They had gotten back to their room about half an hour ago, and Bucky had been messaging on his phone nonstop.

"What is it?" Sam questioned, making his way over to Bucky and leaning over his shoulder, "Is it the garden girl?"

"No, uh," Bucky continued typing, "It's Sharon. We have another job, actually."

Sam sat up a little straighter, pulling away from Bucky, "Oh. What is it?"

"A party," Bucky tried to hide his dread, "We're imitating Jack Spitz and Milo Levin, one with a body count in the thousands from Belgium, and the other is a bartender from Georgia."

"A bartender?"

"Yup."

"Why would they be at a party together?" Sam couldn't hide his curiosity, looking over Bucky's shoulder at his phone.

"Beats me," Bucky admitted, before showing Sam a picture of a red haired woman, "She's the target. Apparently, she has a direct connection with the powerbroker."

"I feel like we're always finding people with a direct connection, and we're not any closer," Sam crawled to Bucky's pillow, throwing himself back and staring at the ceiling, "Like we should focus more on the mission."

Bucky immediately stopped typing, turning to face Sam with an annoyed glance, "What do you mean?"

Sam raised his shoulders, "I don't know."

"Are you sure? Because it seems like you do."

"I don't," Sam stood his ground, watching as Bucky shook his head with a scoff.

"Bullshit," Bucky flopped back on the bed, making every inch of Sam more aware of how close they were, "You think I don't care about the mission as much, because I'm not stressed about it 24/7 like you, don't you?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "What? No."

"Yes, you do," Bucky pressed, making Sam sit up.

"No, I don't," he lied, though he was growing annoyed.

"Bullshit!"

"Fine. Maybe I think you don't focus as much. Maybe I don't think it's a good idea to try to screw every person I meet!" Sam's previous anger presented itself full course, making Bucky sit up as well.

"I knew it! I knew you were still mad that I got Anna flowers!" Bucky concluded.

"You got her flowers?!" Sam's heart dropped, before he stood up with more vengeance than before, "I knew you were lying when you said it wasn't a date, you asshole! We're in the middle of a life and death situation, and you leave to go get fucking laid!"

Bucky's eyes narrowed, but Sam didn't budge. He pushed himself up, taking note of how Sam's breathing was heavy, fist balled, and teeth ground together— he was seething.

"And what if I did?" Bucky lowered his voice, his standing causing Sam to take a step back, "If I had left to go get in someone's pants, what would you do about it?"

Sam pushed Bucky's chest as hard as he could, "You're such a douchebag!"

Bucky didn't move, "No, because even if we weren't in the middle of a mission, you would still be livid if I went out and had sex."

Sam balled his fist even tighter, "No, if we weren't on a mission, I'd want nothing to do with you!"

"That's a lie," Bucky stepped closer to him, "That's a lie straight from hell. You want to know why?"