Sweet and Sour

Chapter 17 - We're going on a little ride

You saw the engine start up to leave and you broke into a sprint as you shot across the street before they could pull away (but made sure to check for traffic this time).

You whipped yourself in front of it, banging on the hood and yelling at the tinted windshield.

"Hey!! Hey! Come out right NOW" you practically screamed. "Get your chicken shit asses out here and talk to me".

You knew you shouldn't speak to the terrifying mob goons like that but any worries you had were drowned by your anger, and fear for Peter's safety. Besides, you knew most of them by now.

The door zipped open and you were surprised to see Bucky of all people step out, flanked by Steve.

He watched you carefully as he emerged. He was in one of his suits but the jacket was gone, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His vibranium arm glinted under the light of the street lamp.

"Don't hit the car like that, Doll. The paintwork is very delicate".

"Doing your own dirty work for a change, huh?" you spat.

Bucky chuckled as he stepped towards you. "You have a good night, Doll?" he asked, condescension dripping from him.

"Don't fucking touch him" you spat as you pointed a warning finger at him and then to Steve. "He's a good man. Don't drag him into this".

Bucky shrugged casually, shaking his head as if he had no idea what you were talking about.

"We wouldn't hurt Mr. Quill, would we Steve?" Bucky said dubiously.

"Of course. Not our good friend, Peter" Steve replied in a monotone.

Your stomach lurched. Of course they had his full name. They probably already had his driving license and tax records on file.

"Bucky, please..." you pleaded.

He watched you attentively as you took a step towards him.

"We both just agreed to be just friends as neither of us felt a connection. Don't hurt him. There's nothing there" you explained calmly, trying to sound tougher than you felt.

Bucky smiled thinly. "I'm not a monster, Doll. I don't just go around hurting people, despite what you may think. But I have to say, this is quite an impassioned defence of someone you're 'just friends' with" he said sardonically, using finger quotes for your words.

Your panic gives way to anger again, his smug smirk a catalyst for your rage. The wine in your bloodstream certainly not helping your rational brain or negotiation skills in the moment.

"Well he is just my friend, alright? Not that I need to justify myself to you of all people...I don't want him to get hurt because of me. I don't know what sort of fucked up show you're running here. I certainly can't seem to get away from it, but I'll be damned if I stand by and let innocent people get caught up in it too" you shout, practically spitting with rage.

Bucky sighs. "Doll..."

You raise a hand to silence him.

"No. You wanted to talk? Let's talk. Steve, you can listen too if you want as James can't seem to go ten feet without his guard dog. The fact is, I have no idea what your game is. I liked you a lot. Alright? I used to enjoy our little back and forth. Whatever it was. It was fun. And then we fucked and you treated me like a leper, cancelling our date and parading ANOTHER WOMAN in front of me days later at my own fucking workplace. Laughing at me. Watching me get upset and revelling in it. And then you send me eight million balloons and have your goons follow me. And I nearly get hit by a car trying to chase them off. And I meet a new guy. A nice guy who actually liked me who doesn't treat me like a toy, or a cat playing with a mouse. And I can't even enjoy that because I'm followed everywhere I go. And I tell you to leave me alone but you ignore me, just dig up information on my date and wait for me outside my house and have the gall to smirk at me like I'm crazy..."