The World Keeps Changing

Chapter 23

We ate, and by the time Luke was talking about the size of womprats, I was laying with my head on Steve's thigh. He had taken my hair wrap off and his fingers toyed with my slightly damp curls spread out over his lap while his other hand played along my cheek and neck. My feet were in Bucky's lap where he rubbed them gently and his fingers idled along my shins and calves. As the movie wrapped, Bucky's touch grew firmer, kneading into my arches and massaging my calves until I was closing my eyes in bliss. "Dammit, Bucky, how are you so good at that?"

I heard his voice, a little smug. "Just one of my many talents, sweetheart."

Then, I felt Steve's fingers burrow into my hair, calloused fingertips dragging and massaging along my scalp and I melted. "Steve, you don't have to..." then I had to stifle a moan because I didn't know which of them was doing a better job.

He chuckled. "I know, but I've wanted to do this for a while."

"Do what?"

"Take care of you." I went still under their hands, but he continued. "You're always in charge of whatever you can manage, Cookie. Handling things. I know what that's like, the need to feel like you have control over something." I knew the subtext he didn't say about wanting that because you feel weak, powerless. He used to be the little guy, after all. "I want to help you feel as relaxed as you make me feel."

"Both of us." I heard Bucky's voice. "You take care of every person around you. Even yesterday, you evacuated people instead of running like I told you. It was infuriating to see you over and over, when all I wanted was for you to get clear. Pulling that alarm, looking for people, pushing them out of hiding, rerouting the crowd. Like you didn't even care about your own safety."

"It was just practical, Bucky. I can't move fast enough to not get caught in the press. Everyone would pass me up or run me over anyway. If I can't get out of the way quickly, I might as well help others who can."

"I know it's not just that," he continued. "Last night, this morning," his hands stilled and his voice went soft. "You talked more than once about being useful. It's like you feel the need to make up for your disability. Like you aren't already the kindest and bravest person I know."

I knew he was right, but he was getting too close to something I still couldn't wrestle with. What I didn't want to address. "That's a big swing in present company, Bucky," I quipped.

Steve wouldn't let me deflect. "We all know that's how you got injured to start with. You've never been one to think of yourself first."

I laughed ruefully, rubbing my hands over my face. I sat up, away from their hands because I had to. "I wish that were true."

"What do you mean?" I felt Steve shifting closer on my left.

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, head down, thinking for a long minute. "Do you remember the night I went off on Tony?"

"Which time?" Steve chuckled.

My lips quirked. "The time when I quit. That night we all spent together."

"Of course." Steve answered, like it had more weight than I gave it.

"Do you remember what I said about why I took the job?"

"About taking Tony's money," Steve said.

"About JARVIS," Bucky said, "and there was something else. 'If you were really really lucky...' but you stopped yourself."

I looked at him. "I didn't think anyone noticed that. Even Natasha didn't ask." Damn super soldier memory.

His lips quirked. "I notice things about people."