Hello Sergeant (Bucky Barnes)

Watcher

August 2012
Sarah's POV

It was a beautiful late summer day outside and I was going to have to spend it on a plane. I'm Agent Sarah Evans of Shield, and my partner on this mission was none other than the Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff. We were going to France first and then Kiev for another deep cover mission as ballet dancers from the Kiev Ballet Troupe that routinely performed for the Siberian heads of the Ten Rings. We needed to identify those men and tag them for cleanup after we'd exited stage left, covers intact preferably.

As the days went on, August giving way to September, we fell into the routine of the dance company, solidifying our covers. During our second to last week in Kiev, Natasha and I noticed a man watching us whenever we were out in the streets. He had long, shaggy, chestnut brown hair and at least a week's beard growth. He was solidly built, but not bulky.

We weren't sure who he was watching, but we assumed it was Natasha, since she had a history here. I was a relative newcomer, so there wasn't really any reason for me to draw his attention. I'd sometimes get a good look at him in the reflection from a window or a polished metal surface, but he seemed to always know when I tried to look at him directly and maneuvered so I couldn't see him well enough to identify him.

The strangest thing about our shadow was that he seemed familiar to me somehow - I just couldn't put my finger on it. I didn't get the feeling he meant us harm; he came to watch us dance almost every day, observing us from the dark rafters of the playhouse. I wouldn't have even noticed him right away if a stray glint of light off something metallic hadn't caught my eye during practice one day. After that, it was easier to pick him out of the shadows. 

*                  *

I decided to engineer a meeting with him, curious about his intentions. To my frustration, it took two more days of me pretending to not notice my watcher before luck was on my side. Today after rehearsal I changed up my routine and walked a different way back to our flat. I changed course rapidly in the crowd so that instead of following, he'd pass me on the street. As we met, I reached out and put my arms around his neck, leaning up to give him a kiss on both stubbled cheeks before kissing him lightly on the lips.

"Jace, what are you doing here? I thought you wouldn't be back for another week!" I said in rapid French. 

The man froze, clearly not expecting me to touch him in that way. He didn't back away or strike out, both responses I'd anticipated. As he stared at me, I realized that his eyes were a familiar shade of cerulean that I knew as well as my own. The color of the shaggy chestnut hair that fell across his face, partially hiding his features from my view was also familiar. I'd said Jace's name because it was the first one to came to mind, but perhaps my mind had really been telling me something.