Friends with Fire // Bucky x Oc (Discontinued For Now)

• 14 •

“I can’t go with you to bring it to Stark,” I say, placing down my teacup.

“Why?” Parker asks, his expression dropping slightly.

I sigh quietly and pinch the bridge of my nose momentarily. “Reasons,” I mutter. “Also, it’s information he could have figured out on his own.”

“I doubt that. He’d probably think the gas was naturally occurring and wouldn’t even realize it was flammable until he did something by accident, setting it off,” Parker says in a rush.

I drop my hand and look at him for a few seconds. “I need you to understand that Stark and I are not on the best of terms. To be quite honest we’re on terrible terms at the moment.”

Parker blinks a few times. “Okay,” he says slowly.

I check my watch before picking up my cup and downing the contents. “Are we going right now?” I ask.

Parker’s expression lights up again. “Yes!” he exclaims, hurrying to pull his coat on.

I grab a taxi and Parker gives the driver an intersection of two streets for our destination. The driver gives him a weird look but doesn’t comment. It’s late afternoon, almost rush hour but just quiet enough that there aren’t as many cars on the streets as usual.

We reach the two streets and I hand the driver a few bills before getting out. “Are we going in there?” I ask, pointing at the fancy-looking office building across the street.

“Yep,” Parker says, glancing down both sides of the street. I do as well and we jog across. Parker doesn’t even hesitate and walks right inside but I pause at the doors, feeling unsure about whether I should be doing this. “What are you waiting for?” Parker asks, poking his head through the door, a confused look on his face.

“Nothing,” I say, shaking my head quickly. I pull the door the rest of the way open and enter the brightly lit waiting area. The smell of cleaning products, air fresheners, and polished floors fills the pristine space.

I nearly bump into Parker, having been distracted by all the people hurrying around. “I don’t know where to go from here,” he whispers tensely, glancing around.

“Where exactly are we?” I mutter, absently reaching for my wristlet before remembering, a little late, that it’s not there anymore.

“Tony Stark’s office building. He’s working with the government to create safer technology,” Parker responds, shifting his weight from side to side.

“What kind of safer technology?” I ask, my interest sparking.

“All kinds,” Parker responds, taking a few steps toward the reception desk. “Is Mr. Stark here?” he asks the young man.

The man glances up and scans Parker up and down before his gaze shifts to me. His expression changes slightly and the up-and-down look he gives me is very different from the one he had given Parker. “You can’t just walk in here without an appointment,” he says, returning his gaze to Parker.

“Oh… Uhm. My name’s Peter Parker. I’m on an internship,” Parker murmurs, fiddling around with his hands.

The man frowns and turns to his computer but before he can start typing the phone beside him rings. He swiftly picks it up, placing it to his ear. I find it strange that he doesn’t say anything and watch as he purses his lips glancing at me and Parker. “Yes sir. Of course,” he says after a minute. He places the phone back down. “Do you know how to get to his office?” he asks Parker, giving me another look.

“Yes. Thank you,” Parker says, turning. I walk beside him as he makes his way over to the elevator, which opens as soon as he presses the button. When the elevator doors open again I’m shocked at the silence that greets us, as well as the absence of anyone.

I immediately start tensing up and almost pull Parker back into the elevator before stopping myself and cautiously stepping out after him. I can’t help it as heat starts building in my palms, the sensation starting in my chest and flowing down my arms. “Is it usually this empty up here?” I ask, flinching slightly when my voice echoes gently, disturbing the dust particles in the air.

“No… There are usually more people up here,” Parker murmurs, looking around carefully. I stay close by his side as he walks down the hallway in front of us. At the end of it is a set of double doors with doors on either side of the hall leading down to it.

Upon reaching the door Parker knocks quietly and we both jump when someone says, “Enter.” My eyes narrow at the familiarity of the voice and I push one of the doors open, revealing an expansive office with a cluster of boxes to my right. Sitting behind the wide desk, his chair turned to face the window making up most of that wall, is none other than Tony Stark himself.

“Uh… Mr. Stark, where is everyone?” Parker asks, stepping up next to me.

“We’re moving buildings,” Stark says, turning his chair slowly. His eyes lock onto me and a small smirk appears on his face. “Reese Brantley. I thought I’d never see you again,” he says, an inferno of fury burning behind his eyes. He lifts a small file sitting in front of him and for some unbeknownst reason my stomach drops and my breathing picks up.

“Your mother was Italian, correct?” he says, glancing up at me. Not giving me a chance to say anything he continues. “Your father, American. But, oddly enough, you were born in Sweden… in 1949. How does that make sense?” he asks, setting the file down.

I clench my jaw and press my lips into a flat line, refusing to answer him. “1949?” Parker mutters under his breath, his confusion obvious in his tone.

“You’re probably wondering how I managed to get this information,” Stark says, sounding smug. I take a shaky inhale and hold my breath for a second before letting it out, refusing to show how scared I currently am. “I had to dig pretty deep to get all this.”

“I hope you lost some sleep doing it,” I say, trying to regain my composure, but a small tremor sneaks into my voice, taking away the effect.

“Let’s finish this chat in a moment,” he says, turning to Parker. “What did you find?” he asks.

“Oh,” Parker says, seeming to have been shaken out of a trance. He flips his backpack to his front and opens it, extracting the metal sphere. “This started that fire in the news,” he says, placing it on Stark’s desk.

“It looks like it was holding something,” Stark comments, rotating it.

“A gas of some sort which we figured out was flammable.”

“We? You were working with her?” Stark asks sharply, looking up.