Lost and Found - Bucky Barnes x OC

It's him, it's him

Bucky found himself glancing at his cell phone more than he would care to admit. He'd run a few errands since he dropped the bike off and was considering whether to have a TV dinner meal or risk those takeout leftovers. There was a depressing mixer thing in the neighbourhood for former soldiers Sam had encouraged to attend. He'd done a few things with that group - but he wasn't getting out of it what the others seemed to. Sharing war and trauma stories may be cathartic for the individual in question, but not really those hearing it – already weighed down by their own baggage and guilt, no room to take on more.

Besides, they were nice enough guys but funnily enough his stories were quite different to theirs. He had shared only some of the milder stuff, but he could easily read the horror and disgust on their faces as he barely scratched the surface. Nothing like seeing the pain of your past reflected back at you on the faces of those who are meant to understand. No thanks.

He could try the online dating apps again, but he didn't really understand them. He didn't know the lingo, or how to present himself. He didn't want to hide himself but then there wasn't an emoji for explaining you're a secret centenarian.

He checked his phone again. Nothing from Francesca yet. Probably drawing it out for as long as she could to punish him. She'd most likely fixed it already and was busy enacting her revenge - maybe online signing his phone number up for cell phone scams. Yes, admitted he had been a bit of a jerk to her. Yes, he should've acknowledged she was right about the bike. That was pretty impressive. But where was the fun in that? Something about her aggravated him, but he couldn't resist.

He thought about her frown when he'd first come into the garage, scrunching up her cute nose and visibly exhaling. Dan had called her fiery and he was certainly right. Bucky liked the way she had looked at him, despite how infuriated she was. He got the impression she would've really let rip had she not been surrounded by her work colleagues which he would've loved to seen. She irritated him like nothing else, but she had certainly got under his skin somehow.

As if he'd summoned her, his suddenly phone rang.

'James Barnes speaking'.

'Mr Barnes, Frankie here. Hello' she replied, already exasperated but trying to retain an air of professionalism.

'Frankie! There you are. It's getting pretty late, I thought you'd forgotten about me. How's my girl?'

'Excuse me...?' she asked, incredulous.

'My girl. My bike? What else what I mean?' he asked, voice dripping with faux innocence.

He heard a sharp intake of breath from her which tickled him, suppressing a snigger.

'Yes, your bike. We close late on Thursdays, apologies to keep you waiting. It's a relatively straight forward fix but I need a new part to complete it. Slight delay I'm afraid but it should be here Saturday.'

She went on to explain the issue, and what she'd done to fix it. Bucky wasn't particularly concerned about the details but he liked hearing her talk.

'...so Mr Barnes, that's where we are at. The part will be here Saturday morning if that's alright?'.

'Hmm. Well I suppose it'll have to be, won't it?' he mock sighed.

'Yes. I suppose so.' Her voice was monotone.

'OK Frankie, I trust you. I can pick her up Saturday. When's good?'

'I'll call you when she's good to go. Should be early afternoon at the latest, we close early on Saturdays. Once the part arrives it won't take me long to finish off.'