Recipe for Romance: A Bucky Barnes Story

6: Good Intentions

Bucky's Turn

"...And it's just weird; don't you agree? Dating Sharon, I mean. I know Peggy and I weren't technically together, but still..."

I pause in my assault of the sandbag to wipe my forehead of sweat and nod. "Yeah. Yeah, it's pretty weird."

Steve shakes his blond head a bit. "Yeah, I'm afraid you're right."

"Hey—at least you two didn't fuck yet," I say. I pick up my water bottle and bring it to my parched lips. At Steve's silence I groan. "You're kidding."

"No, I mean—no, we didn't—we didn't do that," Steve rambles. He turns away from the sandbag and sighs. "But she wanted to."

"Man, you need to call this thing off before you get in over your head."

"I know, I know."

Over the loud stereo music the creaking noise of the gym door sounds. Hurried, light steps stomp closer. Steve and I both turn our heads to the direction of the noise. It's incredibly late at night—three A.M., actually—and we assume we'd have the gym alone. Not that we really care, but it's just that everyone else tends to be asleep at this point in the night.

But here comes another. Heading to the other side of the gym marches Sadie. She's dressed in a grease-splattered t-shirt and dark running pants. She's grumbling under her breath angrily on her trek to the back corner. She doesn't hesitate to tug her shirt over her head and toss it aside—leaving her in a tiny pink sports bra. My heart skips a beat. The muscles of my lower stomach contract.

"—fucking asshole thinks he owns me," some of her ramblings come out clearer than the rest. She punches some buttons on the treadmill and then hops straight on—worn out Nike trainers hardly gripping the surface. She hurriedly pulls her curls back into a tie as the machine begins to work.

Steve glances to me with a raised brow. Should we...? He seems to be asking.

I sigh, nodding softly. Yeah, we probably should.

Steve looks back towards the girl. He's unwrapping his knuckles as he moves closer to her side of the empty gym. "You doing alright, Sadie?"

"Just peachy, Cap."

Somehow I've come to stand on the side of the treadmill where she runs. She's pretty fast, I'll give her that. She's got amazingly toned calves and strong hips that sit steady at the base of her fit, flat torso...

I give my head a brisk shake. Moving my eyes back up to her face, I ask, "What are you doing here so late?"

"Working out. Same as you, Soldier."

I want to roll my eyes. She's so goddamn stubborn sometimes.

"If you don't need anything," Sadie begins with bated breath, "You're distracting me."

Okay, this time I totally roll my eyes. Sadie sees this and moves her head to snap some sort of sassy response. But her lack of attention to the moving floor beneath her feet has her tripping. She gasps lightly. Before she can fall off the back of the thing my instinctual reaction has propelled me into snatching her up in my metal arm. My hand around her waist drags her onto the steady floor. She leans into me—body slightly sweaty.

Her forehead gently collides with my collarbone as she catches her breath. Then she's turning her chin up to look at me with wide doe eyes. "Uh, thanks. Sorry, James."

I take this as my cue to release her. But why is it that I don't really want to? She's so warm and soft in my arms. She feels... nice.

"Are you gonna tell us why you're down here in the middle of the night?" Steve steps in. He's wearing a concerned expression.