Paper Dolls

|chapter three|

a/n: making out, dirty talk, a bit of an innocence kink if you squint, talk of virginity (why would I warn against that, I don't even know), light fingering

Bridget climbs back through her window, tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration. She wasn't kidding when she complained to Wanda. They are getting too big for sneaking out.

As Wanda slips by to her apartment, she pulls on Bridget's skirt. Bridget yelps quietly. Wanda creeps off with a giggle. Wanda doesn't even need to sneak out. Her brother doesn't care what she does. She just does it because it's fun.

When Bridget was ten, Wanda and her brother moved in next door with a foster family. Their parents were killed during the revolution in Sokovia after World War I. She saw Wanda playing on the fire escape alone one morning and the rest is history.

The redhead pauses, listening for any creaks and groans of the hallway floor. All is quiet. Bridget sighs in relief, slipping off her heels. Next is her skirt and shirt, slightly sweaty and smelling of smoke. Bridget stretches her ankles and flexes her toes. Heels aren't her favorite. She wishes she could wear loafers like the younger girls do.

Bridget continues to get ready for bed by washing her face in the small hall bathroom. Wanda let her borrow a special cream to rid her skin of the last flecks of mascara and lipstick. She always imagines she's washing away a layer of skin, ridding her body of a long day. It's her way of getting ready for a new start, each morning she opens her eyes.

The only thing Bridget doesn't want to wash away is the faint scent of whiskey and cedar that still clings to her hair and lips. She feels a tingle run down her spine thinking about James. She shakes her head to rid herself of the thought of his lips on her neck, broad shoulders flexing under her hands.

Bridget throws on a nightgown, deciding not to pin up her hair for the night. The sheets are cool on her bare skin as she sinks into the bed. She takes a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart.

It's in a state between awake and asleep that there's a noise on her window. The noise happens again, this time a little harder. Bridget sits straight up in bed, trying to make sense of what she's hearing. It's another beat before she slides to the end of the bed, leaning to look out the fire escape to the alley 50 feet below.

Unbelievable.

James Barnes' smiling face is turned up towards her, leaning on the side of a black car. He's rolling a rock in his hand while Steve stands to his left smoking. Their black suits blend in with the dark recesses of the alley. Bridget wouldn't even know he was there if she didn't know where to look. She throws on her robe and quietly slides the window open.

"Are you crazy?!" Bridget whispers into the night.

"Yes!" James yells at full volume, making Bridget jump.

"Shut up, I'm going to get caught! Go away!" Bridget whisper-yells, making a shoo-ing motion at James like he's an alley cat. Her resolve is wavering the longer she looks at his handsome face.

In a split second James is bounding up the rails two at a time. Bridget hears a whining "Bucky" come from Steve. She has to cover her mouth to hide the grin as James makes his way up to her. He's only slightly out of breath, a curl of dark hair flopping over his forehead.

"You know, if you didn't smoke you probably wouldn't be breathin' as heavy" Bridget deadpans.

She cuts her eyes to the window behind her, checking to see if anyone has gotten up.

James sends her a stern look, hands on his hips. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes are the only sign to Bridget that he's teasing.

"I didn't come all this way just to be bullied, doll."