Paper Dolls

|chapter ten|

a/n: something soft and sweet for this update, y'all. there's some implied smut and lots of teasing. I'll fulfill your horny wishes in the next part, I promise. Translations are at the end, but these are phases/words that have appeared in previous chapters as well. Please like and comment, it means a lot!

The next morning, the sky is a faded blue with the coming dawn when Bridget is awoken by movement. James walks around the room, gradually getting dressed with careful steps to keep from waking her. She can't help but peek over the blankets, watching quietly and appreciating the view. The muscles in his broad shoulders and back, toned from years of labor and a lack of luxury that his lifestyle might imply, flex and roll as he pulls on a dark button down shirt and jacket.

Turning around, he catches her eye and winks while he fastens a gold watch on his wrist, the face glinting in the early morning light. Bridget hides her face, a dumb smile on her face and heat in her cheeks. The sheets are cool on her bare skin and she makes herself more comfortable in James' absence, spreading her arms and legs across the bed.

James chuckles and shakes his head before walking over, the soles of his shoes making a pleasant clicking sound. He leans down to kiss her forehead and Bridget hums with contentment.

"Where are you going?" she asks with a husky voice, a cloud of red hair peeking from above the pillows.

"I have an emergency to take care of-"

She sits up in the bed, the sheet falling down to her waist. The last thing she wants to hear is that something happened to one of James' men, or the girls at the club. She's begun to see a lot of them like family.

"Is everything okay?"

His broad hand brushes the waves from her face as he kisses her nose, followed by her lips. It's soft and sweet, a reassuring gesture as he shakes his head.

"Everything is fine, doll," James says with a gentle smile. "Steve's downstairs with Stark. Don't worry about it and get some more sleep."

He squeezes her hand once before releasing it as Bridget burrows back down into the safety of the bed. Despite his tone, she can see stress lining his face and his eyes lack the spark that brightens her day.

"I'd sleep a lot easier if you'd just tell me," she sighs, avoiding meeting James' gaze as she fluffs up the pillows under her head. "Unless it's one of those situations where you'd have to kill me if I find out. Then I would rather not know."

James laughs to himself quietly before he lays back on the bed, eyes on the ceiling. He rests his hands on his stomach and takes a deep breath.

"A while back, Walker and some of his buddies came into the bar and busted some bottles up. I got that sorted out, but then an entire shipment of liquor went missing. Now someone's coming after our guns. Last week's delivery, they got a hold of Peter and a few other guys, beat 'em up a little, but got none of the shipment."

"And now?"

"They snatched an entire truckload, and it wasn't just our goods on board."

"Tony Stark's too? Holy shit," Bridget breathes as James nods.

"And now we gotta get it all back before some kid gets a hold of something they aren't big enough for."

The Sokovians are known for getting kids off the street, using them as mules and messengers throughout the city. Men like James will take care of them, paying for clothes and food that their family needs and keeping them out of harm's way the best they can. Zemo has lost four kids on "trips" in the past year. Bridget remembers the latest one. He was in Colin's class at school, just turned ten years old, and was stabbed in the dark when he tried to rip off one of Luke Cage's guys. The killer had no idea he was fighting a child until it was too late.