let's go dancing → barneswald

v. let our hearts ignite

Clara would have liked to tell the story of the elaborate proposal to her grandchildren one day and be able to say that the plan went without a hitch, but truth be told it was almost a complete disaster.

On the night she was meant to set everything in motion, the Daleks attacked. With her help, Bruce and Thor finished them off fairly quickly, but they had to deal with civilian casualties and property damage and Tony Stark was elsewhere. (Between coughs, Clint claimed that Pepper was fucking him though a brick wall "somewhere exotic".) Also, there was the issue of Clara's concussion from being knocked out by flying debris, which nearly sent Bucky around the bend.

She'd rescheduled with Steve for the next week, but he got sent off on a mission at the last minute and there was absolutely no way she was going to do this without him. He was an important part of the plan and Clara needed a good old Captain America pep talk before proposing to anyone.

The third time she'd tried to do it, Clint was shot off a roof by someone hungry for revenge for a dead sibling and had to spend three weeks in the hospital. (It was supposed to be four weeks, but Natasha and Clara helped him escape.)

Clara was starting to think that maybe she shouldn't try to marry Bucky after all: the whole damn universe seemed to be against it. Admittedly, when she told Steve as much he shrugged and said,

"If you think the universe is against you, you gotta get up and give it one or two good reasons as to why it should be for you. Also," he added in exasperation, "give me one or two good reasons why everyone comes to me for advice."

Clara grinned at him, then put her head on his shoulder. "You're everyone's favorite grumpy wise grandpa. Or mine, at least."

"Jesus Christ," Steve sighed, but put his arm around Clara anyways. After a moment of silence he said, "You make him happy, you know. You make Bucky better."

"So do you, Steve."

"Not like you do."

"Well, but you're not dating him anymore." Clara shrugged against Steve. "You're still his other half, though."

"Mmh. Wait, what do you mean, 'not dating him anymore'?"

She shrugged again, fighting a smile. "You were together before, Rogers. During the war. Don't think I haven't done my research."

There was only silence from Steve, and Clara laughed.

It was time. It was finally, finally time. No one was going on any missions tonight, no one was almost dying, and there was not an alien in sight. It was perfect.

Steve had worked all morning to get everyone out of the tower, and by dinner time, it was just him and Clara, waiting for Bucky.

"Where is he?" Clara exclaimed, pacing the room.

"Relax, Clara. He's only five minutes late."

"But-"

"Wait another ten," Steve said firmly. "Then start freaking out. It'll be-"

"Mister Barnes is in the lobby, Miss Oswald," JARVIS cut in,

"See?" Steve murmured. "He squeezed her hand then retreated to the next room, ready in case of emergency.

Clara was rushing around the room gracelessly making sure everything was in place, when the elevator doors opened and Bucky walked through, clean-shaven, his hair pulled back into a neat ponytail.

"Clara!" A grin spread across his face and he hurried over to her and twirled her around. "You look wonderful."

Clara beamed up at him, his bubbly mood stamping out all the stress burning in her stomach. "So do you," she replied. "Let's sit."

She led him to a small table near the bar. Bucky took in the soft blue tablecloth and matching napkins, and all the food laid out on it.

"Baby," he murmured wondrously. "You did all this?"

"Well, except the food," Clara admitted. "That was Nat and Sam. We all know I can't make something decent without asking someone to do it for me."

Bucky snorted. "I wonder if we'll have to hire a cook when we move in together."

"Can we even afford one, though? I mean, you're an Avenger and I'm a teacher. Those really aren't the best paying jobs."

"We have Tony, though," Bucky countered.

"There is no way he's paying for our flat!" Clara exclaimed as they sat down. "He'd want to try out all of his inventions on us and there would be daily explosions."

"You're right, as always."

They were about halfway through the meal when Clara realized what Bucky'd said.

"You want us to live together?" she blurted around a bite of chicken.

"Don't you? We've been together for years."

"Of course I do!"

It was like someone had pushed the stop button on their conversation. The only noise in the room now was the rustle of clothing, the clink of forks against plates, the gulps of water.

He wants us to live together, Clara told herself. Ask him now.

She'd prepared an eloquent, flirty speech, worthy of Bucky Barnes, but when she opened up her mouth to start, all that came out was,

"Marry me?"

Bucky looked up from his plate and grinned broadly at her.

"Might as well!"

Clara pushed herself out of her chair, and walked around the table until she was standing in front of Bucky. He put his fork down and looked up at her.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you, too," he replied. He reached for her but she pulled away and started pacing.

"No," she protested. "Not like that. I love you, James. And last time I sprung this speech on someone, he got hit by a car and died, but there are no cars here. I can do this in peace.

"Bucky, the truth is I've never loved anyone like I loved Danny, and I've never loved anyone like I love you. I never will.

"I know you'll live longer than me. I'll grow old and whither away, but you'll still look like you're in your fifties. And you'll have Steve and Nat, provided none of you idiots get yourselves killed first, but the point is... The point is, I love you, James Buchanan Barnes, I love you and I'll never stop. So if you'll have me, I'd like to spend the rest of my life with you. Married."

Clara took a deep breath and looked at Bucky hesitantly. He was sitting there, shock clear on his face, his mouth slightly open.

Was this how Danny looked?

The thought hit Clara like a train running at full speed, but she did her best to push it away for now.

"Clara," Bucky said finally. "Clara, I love you so, so much. And yes, I will marry you. Of course I will. Come over here," he finished, holding out his arms again.

This time she didn't resist, and gladly curled up on his lap.

The Doctor had said that love is a promise, and Clara had lived by that for so long. But now she was starting to think that maybe he was wrong. Maybe everyone was wrong.

Love isn't a promise. It isn't a feeling or an emotion.

Love is an instinct. It's programmed into every living being in the universe; it's weird and it's magical and not even the Doctor can explain it.

Love filled up Clara Oswald until she felt like she was about to explode, and she was happy.

a/n
this is a birthday present for one of my friends but i'm also posting it on here because everyone needs to see marina writing fluff (literally what the hell)