(Y/N) (L/N) drove carefully down the icy roads leading into the city, one hand on the steering wheel and the other delicately balancing a cigarette between its index and middle fingers. 'Indicate dickhead!' He suddenly yelled at the BMW in front of him, accidentally waking up Bucky who had been sleeping soundly in the passenger seat beside him.
Violet had called him a couple weeks prior, inviting them both to stay with her for Christmas. Bucky hadn't been too keen on the idea, he didn't want to get either himself or (Y/N) in any sort of trouble. He'd even gone to see King T'Challa, in hopes he might be able to talk (Y/N) out of the idea, but all he did was make it possible. One of the king's pilots had landed them somewhere up in the north of England on Christmas Eve, away from any sort of civilisation, where an unassuming mini cooper was waiting for them, the keys resting under the passenger seat.
***
Bucky reached forward, fiddling with the dials on the centre console until the radio began to play. It played loudly at first, causing (Y/N) to wince until Bucky turned the volume down.
He wore a woolly hat, the one (Y/N) had made him as an early Christmas present, and a pair of clear clubmaster glasses. 'I still don't think this is a good idea,' he said, shifting back in his chair as he stared out of his window, watching the snow fall and land gently on the pavement. 'What if someone recognises us?'
'They won't,' (Y/N) told him, rolling his eyes; this was the hundredth time they'd had the conversation, and he knew that (Y/N) (L/N) was getting sick of it. 'I'm not letting Violet spend Christmas alone,' he said adamantly, 'not when she doesn't have to.'
'I thought you said she had foster kids,' Bucky argued, 'and what about your nephew?'
'She had foster kids,' (Y/N) huffed, 'they've all grown up and got their own families now. And Benjamin fucked off back to Rotterdam with his mam when Jack died, they haven't got in touch with her since.'
'I just think...'
'Can we not,' (Y/N) asked, turning to face him as he frowned, 'she's family, and I haven't been there for her. She deserves a Christmas with family, and so do we...' Bucky nodded reluctantly, he seriously doubted a pair of fake glasses and a hat would disguise him. 'Besides, she's also desperate to meet Sergeant Barnes,' (Y/N) grinned, taking his left hand off of the gearshift and resting it on Bucky's knee, squeezing it a couple times.
I ain't laughing
I didn't hear the joke anyway
I got my fingers on the windows
As the snow makes this a prison
Tomorrow will be Christmas Day.
The pair stood at the red door, waiting for someone to answer. (Y/N) had rested his kitbag on the floor, and water had begun to seep into it. 'Your clothes are going to get wet,' Bucky stated, picking it up and slinging it over his shoulder along with his duffle bag.
'Thanks,' (Y/N) mumbled. Bucky Barnes knew Dr (L/N) didn't like being helped, but he couldn't help himself; he wanted to help.
A middle aged, black-haired, woman answered the door wearing a bright purple pinny. She grinned at the two of them, her gaze lingering on (Y/N) for a moment. 'Well, hello,' she greeted cheerfully in an American accent, 'you must be Violet's nephew,' She shook (Y/N)'s hand, grinning, 'and you must be the boyfriend.' Bucky blushed slightly; he and (Y/N) had never gotten the chance to put a label on their relationship.
'Well, she's in the living room,' the woman said, inviting them in before picking up a suitcase, 'Mrs Hepples's given me the holidays off to go see the hubby up on the border,' she explained excitedly. Bucky dropped the bags and looked around the foyer. It looked different, there was new wallpaper between the panelling, and the whole room seemed a lot brighter.
YOU ARE READING
The Red Soldier: Rise of the Red Soldier
Fanfiction(Y/N) (L/N) had finally found peace, away from the horrors civilisation held. He'd found a solace when surrounded by his own grief, but a jet plane parked outside his front door changed all of that seventy years after the death of his two friends.
