The Boss [COMPLETED]

Outnumbered

TW: Gun death

Over the next week, you got into a stride with both of your jobs. At the office, you worked out a new dynamic with Bucky, still being your usual self but holding back on some of the jabs, some of the banter, where the meaning could be a little dubious. You didn't want to be thinking that way around him in the day.

At the Red Room, Bucky came three times a week. Every time, he chose something new, tested it, tested your reactions. You didn't refuse a single time. You found that you hadn't wanted to. He still hadn't touched you again, not with his hands, instead using all the toys, whips and ropes available to him. You also restarted your sub regiment of aftercare, ointments, electrolyte drinks, the works, anything that helped you recover faster, and help you to avoid anymore 'squirmy' moments at the office.

You no longer wore the wig, at his request. You'd opted to have your hair tied up in a ponytail, as you never wore your hair up at the office, and you had to glue your mask to your face using eyelash glue. It seemed to work though - he was satisfied that he could pull your hair now, and he never made a comment about how similar it was to his secretary's.

You felt like you could do this. How long for, you weren't entirely sure, but at the minute, both you and Bucky seemed refreshed, and relaxed. So for now, you felt like it was working fine.

You left the office a couple of hours ago, and tonight was one of your night offs from The Red Room, so you treated yourself to a smorgasbord of takeout while you went over the files for tomorrow. The initial Rumlow meeting was the big ticket item on tomorrow's schedule, so you had to make sure that the files were edited, organised, and ready to duplicate in the morning. After your belly was adequately stuffed, you reached down for your bag, grabbing all the paperwork out of it and dumping it onto your coffee table.

As you started to shuffle it around in a rough organisational manner, you froze when you read the header on one piece of paper.

Contractual Agreement: Roedale Industries

You groaned and smacked the paper to your forehead. It was the contract for the deal that idiot Alan had taken so long to get signed off, and you were supposed to get Bucky to countersign it today to post. Which now meant that he needed to do it first thing.

You had no choice but to go back to the office and put it on his desk ready for the morning. Bucky always got to the office before you, arriving about 7am when you got there at 8.15. He used to say that he enjoyed working for a couple of hours with no one bugging him, but you quickly realised that his mind was simply clearer then. Whenever you walked in at 8.15, he always had a list of things for you that needed fixing, or rectifying, that he had spotted in his early hour focus session. So, over the months, you always made sure to always put the more complex, important tasks that he needed to review on his desk before you left at the end of the day, so that he could do them when he first came in. This contract was one such task, and you were not going to be the one that caused any further delays.

So, you grabbed the rest of the papers for Roedale, grabbed your jacket, threw it on over your jumper and joggers, picked up your badge and phone, and headed out the door.

You wandered the halls of the office in a bit of a daydream. It wasn't your first time being at the office at 10pm, but you didn't make it a habit. The silent walls and dark lighting always creeped you out, so you always tried to think of something else. As had been usual lately, your daydreams wandered to your boss, and your evening activities.

Finally reaching Bucky's office, you rearranged the papers already on his desk, slotting the Roedale contract amongst them.

Then you heard voices. Your head snapped up to the door.

You could pick out Bucky's voice. Which meant he would be coming into his office.

He would not be happy that you were here this late, and in his office. He was always very clear on you finishing your work day at a reasonable hour, and the last time he caught you here, you could tell that he was angry you hadn't waited until the morning. Very angry.

You panicked. They were coming closer.

You decided to slip into the side door, which led to an ensuite bathroom, because of course, the CEO had their own private bathroom. You didn't shut the door all the way, because it wasn't shut to start with, and you didn't want him to risk noticing.

You stood behind the door, staring at the wall opposite, trying to slow your breathing down as you heard them walk in, but then you frowned when you heard a scuffle. Grunting, and something shifting, dragging, almost.
You slowly walked to the edge of the door, peering round cautiously to see what was happening.

Once the room came into view, you saw Bucky standing in front of his desk, facing it, reaching down for something on top of it. Behind him, in the 'guest chair', was a guy with a terrified look on his face. He looked familiar, but you couldn't think of his name. Around the guy were four other people - Bucky's own security guard, one of the guards from downstairs, and then two with their backs to you, so you couldn't see their faces.

You made sure that your face couldn't be fully seen, hiding in the shadows, and waited to see what would happen.

"Dean Carson." Bucky said, but his tone of voice was strange. Low, similar to the one he used with you in The Red Room, but there was an edge to it. An edge that made your blood run cold. "You were put in charge of the Bautic shipping depot. You came highly recommended to me, and I was assured that you were more than capable of thwarting any threats. So, Dean," Bucky said as he turned round to the guy. "Tell me why I'd be so surprised to hear that we got hit, hmm?"

"I..I, Mr Barnes, it was..we were outnumbered." Dean stuttered as he gripped the arms of the chair, and you heard Bucky kiss his tongue to his teeth.

"But see, I had a look into that." Bucky said arrogantly as he walked around the room. "And it turns out that there was some kind of...scheduling conflict? Was that it Steve?" He asked one of the guys with his back to you, and 'Steve' nodded. "It seems that there were only 4 other guys on shift with you that night, when there are usually 10."

10? That seemed like a lot for a shipping depot. You couldn't remember ever seeing any paperwork on a shipping depo either...

"I'm not sure what happened there, it-" Dean said, but he was cut off when Bucky put his hands on Dean's shoulders, and bent down to his ear. You saw Bucky lick his bottom lip, a habit of his you usually found so fucking attractive, but the way his eyes were staring at Dean, this time it was putting you on edge.

"Like I said, I looked into it Dean. What happened was you scheduled less guards that night, knowing that they would be coming to rob us of everything in those containers. Because you're a fucking rat."

"M-Mr Barnes I didn't-"

"Because you're working with them."

"No, I'm not, I-"

"Bag him." Bucky ordered, and immediately, the guards surrounding Dean moved forward, one putting a bag on his head, the others holding his hands down. Your stomach dropped. Your heart sped up as you watched Dean struggle in the bag.

It was just like...no...he wasn't going to...

Before you could finish that thought, Bucky lifted a gun to the back of Dean's head, and fired.

Your gasp was covered by the sound of the bullet exploding out of the chamber, shattering through Dean's skull.

You whipped round, behind the door, and covered your mouth with your hand as your body started shaking, and you tried to breathe. You stood as still as you could, the tears forming in your eyes, as you waited, listening for any sound, any indication that your gasp was louder than it had felt in your head.

It was a painful few seconds before anything else happened in Bucky's office.

"Take him out of my sight. And get someone to figure out who else was working with him." Came Bucky's voice.

You heard more shuffling, the sound of something heavy dragging back along the carpet, and you felt yourself crying. You bit your lip to keep the tears silent.

Bucky just killed someone in his office.