𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 - 𝓑𝓾𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓑𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓼 [1]

26. {The Bartender}

A couple of hours have passed. Now, you're back in the main carriage, the bar area where the ambiance is subdued. Soft jazz music plays in the background, blending with the low murmur of conversation and the clinking of glasses. You both ate separately, maintaining the guise of strangers, understanding the importance of keeping up appearances aboard this train.

You sit alone in one booth, eyes scanning the far end of the carriage with calculated indifference. The weight of the vibranium drive in Bucky's pocket is a constant reminder of the danger you're in. Behind you, Bucky sits in the adjacent booth, his back against yours. This way, you can cover the entire area without appearing suspicious. His posture is relaxed, but you know he's as alert as you are, watching the other side of the carriage.

The bar's patrons are a small mix of travellers—some weary from long journeys, others animatedly enjoying their drinks, most slipping away to call it a night. You sip from your glass, eyes subtly scanning the faces that pass by, searching for any sign of your new targets. Each face now fills you with a sense of unease, as if every traveller on this train is as suspicious as the two men back at Bucky's cabin. The revelation that you are the target on this train, thanks to that key, fuels your anxiety. You understand why you feel this way, but you can't shake the pit in your stomach telling you that you to do all you can to get off this train. Was Bucky right? Did SHIELD set up this mission to ensure your failure, just to retrieve this drive? Did they craft this scenario so meticulously that your untimely demise would appear accidental, a mere lapse in your luck and skill? This would explain why you were chosen for this task—but why Barnes? Naturally, SHIELD removed Steve from the equation; he would have asked too many questions, being the golden boy of the organization. But perhaps Bucky had angered the board more than either of you realized. Maybe pairing you together, only to be ambushed by hired men, was their way of eliminating problems they found too troublesome to handle.

You take a slow sip of your drink, letting the cool liquid soothe your nerves as you contemplate the unsettling possibilities swirling in your mind. The soft jazz music provides a semblance of calm amidst the underlying tension, but it does little to ease the knot of apprehension coiled in your stomach.

"How's your drink?" Bucky's voice suddenly drifts to your ear, causing you to momentarily pause in your façade of nonchalance as a solitary traveller, savouring your beverage. A fleeting smirk dances across your lips as you take another sip, suppressing the urge to roll your eyes at Barnes' persistent need to engage in conversation during this last hour or so.

Though you know his back remains turned to you, his movements likely mirroring your own, you maintain your smile as you reply, "Not strong enough." Setting the glass down with a delicate clink, you scan the room once more before adding, "Yours?"

"Better if I were sharing this drink with you," his words murmur softly into your ear once more.

You resist the urge to scoff at Bucky's flirtatious remark, instead opting to maintain your composed demeanour as you play along with his banter. "Smooth as ever, Barnes," you quip, a playful lilt in your voice as you offer a small chuckle. "I'm starting to wonder if missions with you were easier when we were both hating each other."

You can detect the faint hint of a smile in his response, "Well, as long as this mission concludes with the same outcome as most of the others, I won't have any complaints, Y/N."

This time, you can't help but roll your eyes, though you angle your head slightly towards the window to conceal the gesture as you settle back into your seat. You sense the warmth emanating from him as you speak in a near-whisper, "Are you forgetting what occurred back at your cabin just two hours ago?" You feel him lean back in response.

"Oh, when I had you writhing on my fingers, begging out for more just before I lowered you onto my—"

"Barnes."