You've Got Me... Always || Bucky Barnes

Chapter One

"Turtle Dove, you good?" My friend's voice calls through the earpiece.

"I got my eyes on the prize, Robin Hood."

"I'm not Robin Hood."

"And I'm not capable of kicking your ass." I joke, earning a groan.

"Did you forget who arrested who?" He asks.

"Did you forget who received a bruise from a literal ass kicking? Here's a hint, my guy: it wasn't me."

"Ha ha, Shaggy. Funny."

"I know. It's a gift. From me to you, Pinky Lee."

"I know where, or rather who, you got that horrible sarcasm from."

I gasp. "Rude!" I stress in jest. "I'm so much funnier than him." I mumble.

"And stop watching Grease."

"Never! Be glad I can't throw a milkshake in your face, buddy." I laugh. "Loading into the truck now." I inform, standing guard as it is loaded into the back of a SHIELD military grade truck.

Now, what you may not know is, over the last year, Tony Stark almost died and built his own life support. This life support allowed him the ability to play superhero, and boy, did he lean into it. He is now Iron Man.

My actions to help must have warranted me onto SHEILD's watchlist as I was intervened one day by Director Nick Fury, who, alongside old friends, offered me a position. This allowed me to do what I do best, but for good. It still had its perks.

Those friends being Natasha and Clint. Natasha Romanoff had infiltrated her way onto Tony's team at Stark Industries under an alias and me being the good person and all did not say anything. In fact, Natasha and I go way back to when I was first sold from my boarding school. That's a different story for another time.

Clint Barton is who put me on SHIELD's watch list. He saved me one day, and they used the stupid legal system to do it. Remember me doing house arrest at Stark's house? That's when Barton arrested me. The rest, as they say, was history. Well, sort of. Anyway....

Recently, we discovered this supposedly powerful blue cube called the Tesseract. I was in charge of the team transporting it from point A, it's current resting place, to point B, an old military base where studies will be performed.

"Load up!" I shout to the team around me. "Let's ride." We gather into the trucks and head out. I use my finger over the earpiece before speaking. "Headed your way, brother."

"You really think this block is powerful?" The gentleman beside me asks. Brock Rumlow. He flirts with me all day everyday. I can't stand this arrogant man.

I shrug. "It glows, but then again, I'm not paid to think, Rumlow."

"Maybe not, but you sure look damn good doing it." I roll my eyes. "How about dinner? Friday?"

"I love dinner on Fridays."

"How about 8?"

"I like eating at 8. I like eating at all hours really."

"Great. I'll pick you up about 730."

My head turns to face him, my eyes clock his eyeing me with a grin. "Ooooh. You meant with you." He just looks at me, grin falling slightly. I look away with a laugh. "Then no. Suddenly, I'm not available. Actually," I pretend to open a book and gasp sarcastically. "Would you look at that? My whole life's calendar is full."

I feel him adjust in his seat. "One dinner. Then we could go back to my place for dessert. Or yours."

"I don't like dessert."