Saving Bucky (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Chapter 21 - Goosefeathers

In the past two days you've spent devouring files in silence, you've learned that James Buchanan Barnes is a lot of things. 

Patient isn't one of them. 

"Pass it over."

"Give me a minute."

"Just hand me the top sheet."

"I'm not done yet, James."

A frustrated sigh from two couch cushions over has you rolling your eyes as you focus back on the report in your hand. As Barnes waits for you to finish, he starts rolling that damn metal piece around his knuckles again. An annoying habit you find almost as aggravating as his silent staring and emphatic grunts. The first time you tried to get a look at it, he had blushed and hidden it in his palm. Now, every time you try to get a quick glimpse at the thing he slides it in his pocket. So you've given up, and try to ignore the faint click of his nail on the metal as he spins it around his thumb and sends it rolling back over his knuckles.

"If you don't stop playing with that thing, I'm going to flush it," you growl.

Barnes huffs, but shoves it in his pocket and crosses his arms firmly against his chest. You let out a relieved sigh and return to the top of your current paragraph. The one you've tried to read four times since he started pestering you about finishing.

"Are you done yet?"

"Oh for the love of God," you groan, handing over the stack. "Just...keep them separated when you're done. I haven't finished those yet."

Barnes takes the stack eagerly, his eyes flying as he reads at superhuman speed. After a few seconds he sets one of the pages aside and starts on another.

"Do you even absorb what you're reading?" you challenge, watching those icy-blue orbs fly across the page. "Or is it just ink on a page to you?"

Barnes looks up at you, annoyed. But doesn't say anything as he just stares. 

"Yeah, that's what I thought," you huff. "Slow down and pay attention Barnes. We're trying to actually learn something useful here."

Without a word he keeps his eyes locked on yours as he reaches over and grabs the page he had just set aside and hands it back to you.

"What?" you ask, taking the page. 

He nods towards it but you keep your eyes on him, expectantly.

"What, James?"

He rolls his eyes and nods once more to the paper.

"Use your words," you chide sarcastically.

"Look at it," he says.

Relenting, you look down at the page. "What am I looking at?" you ask.

"June 7th, 2013," Barnes states simply, leaning forward and tapping the top of the page with one finger as speaks. "I've confirmed with Agents Yavaris, Howard, and Minx that news of the illness in the village of Kalachi has spread beyond the borders into northern Kazakhstan. However the rumors of radon and carbon monoxide poisoning continue to hold."

Your eyes widen as you follow along as Barnes reads. He's repeating, word for word, the report in your hands. 

"We must watch the men from Seirra Gas," he continues, tone flat and even as he recites the words in the report. "We must continue to measure the quantity of uranium they are removing from the mines. Should the village discover these men's movements and uncover the true source of their illness, or should Hezbollah acquire a noteworthy amount of uranium, we may be called to even the playing field. Have our people in ranks in Al-Queda and the CIA standing at the ready. Signed, Director Gabriel Allen."