El Mañana - A Bucky Barnes FanFiction-

Siberia

You don't want to hurt me,

But see how deep the bullet lies.Unaware I'm tearing you asunder.Ooh, there is thunder in our hearts.

- Running up that Hill, Kate Bush

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Bianca stared down at her minuscule hands with disgust. They were such pudgy, pink, things. The creases on her palms were thin and small, but the skin around seemed plushy and soft to the touch.

She poked the center of the left hand, her grimace deepening.

Pathetic.

She groaned low and aggravated. She swung her legs and jumped down to the floor and began to pace the length of the bench. She saw Olivia and The Black Widow from the corner of her eye. They were seated at a large desk with a computer, staring intently down at the screen.

What are they looking at?

She wondered moving towards the glass walls of her prison. Her eyes narrowed intently at the Widow, taking note of the way her mouth pursued and moved and began to form words in her head.

They...are....there...see.

It was Olivia's turn to talk, she was using her hands animatedly, which was a little distracting.

We...have...to...tell...Steak—No Steve. They...are...in...the...school.

The school? Of course, the professor.

Mistress B knew exactly who was the they, the two women were referring to. Joanna and that Soldier. Her mind began to work in quick succession. Maybe this was her way of getting back, assuming that Lyuuba didn't know of Joanna's where about.

Then her plan will come together. She would have the twins and I can help her with it, with both of them. B knew she had to find a way to reach them, some way of getting close enough to send out a signal.

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Bucky sat uncomfortably in the Professor's chair. It felt small, constricting, and the leather was far too polished and he felt like he was about to slip off of it. He sat back, straightened his posture and tried to relax his arms on the adjacent rests.

He felt out of place.

"Now what?" He asked, looking to the bald gentleman, awaiting instructions or something similar.

"We talk." He said with a warm smile. He leaned in towards his table's edge and balanced his elbows on the wooden surface.

"Would you like a cup of tea, maybe coffee?" He asked as he folded his hands together in front of him, like an alert and gracious host. Bucky wasn't accustomed to such fine manners, even though he's had his share of experience back home.

These Brits, polite as school boys A familiar voice rang in his ears, the words were giddy and rough, like the voice of a man who smoked far too many cigars.

"No, I'm good." He resisted, realizing he was silent for a while. He knew he had to force himself to speak most times, forgetting that people do wait for a response if a question has been asked.

The professor nodded cordially and they fell back into a silence. Bucky began to chew on his inner cheek, habitually, a method of deliberation before offering a question in return.