Recipe for Romance: A Bucky Barnes Story

19: Girls' Night Out

"This is a very weird feeling."

Bucky only laughs at my statement. He goes about making breakfast like he does it all the time, when in fact, I'm the one always doing it. But today is my day off according to Tony Stark so I've decided to not cook at all. Nothing—nada—zip cooking from me today. Pietro tried begging me for some brownies, but I told him to ask again tomorrow. He was rather put out by my response, but I'm sure I'll be getting a text at midnight asking for those brownies again.

"Uh, what do you think you're doing?" Bucky grunts at me. My eyes widen as I realize I've just picked up a stirring spoon. He comes up behind me and playfully smacks the back of my hand. "Get out of the kitchen. Sit over there and look pretty—that's all you've got to do."

"That doesn't sound too hard."

"It shouldn't be for you, gorgeous."

I smile cheekily in response. That's when he plants a kiss to my lips and makes me giggle.

"Oh gross you two—get a room!"

I roll my eyes at the addition of Sam's voice. I knew we should've picked one of our apartments to meet in for breakfast instead of the Common.

I plop down onto one of the barstool seats. Sam comes to sit beside me. "What are we eating this morning?"

"Nothing for you, jackass," is Bucky's reply.

"Seriously? You get yourself a girl and I become what? Chopped liver?"

"You weren't anything to begin with," Bucky retorts.

"Oh be nice, Bucky," I decide to play along. I pretend to soothingly pat Wilson on the shoulder. "You know poor ole Sammy here doesn't have any friends."

Bucky's laughter almost drowns out Sam's voice. "Oh now there's two of you? Y'all tag teaming me now? I call foul play on that shit."

Nat's voice joins the mix. She saunters into the room. "Foul play or foreplay?"

"You nasty, Romanoff," Sam scoffs.

The red haired woman only shrugs in response. She comes to take the seat on my other side—caging me between two superheroes.

"No work today, Sadie?"

"Nope. Not even the restaurant." I pick up my cup of coffee and sip.

"Good." Nat smirks. "Because we're going out."

"Out?" I mimic like a parakeet. I glance behind me at Bucky, almost as if to see if he's aware of something I'm not. He only shrugs his bare shoulders and flips another flapjack. "Umm, where are we going, Nat?"

"Don't know yet. But I'm taking you and Wanda out for drinks," she says. "We're the only girls in this damn place and we need a break if you ask me."

"Hey—we're not that bad to live with," Sam argues.

"Maybe not all of us, but you certainly are."

"Oh shut your trap, Barnes."

Nat ignores the men and smirks at me instead. "What do you say, Schatz? You in?"

Nights out on the town aren't really my thing. But I agree nonetheless because Nat seems so excited and I can't very well be known as the cat-lady wannabe who stays home to watch Netflix and drink Chardonnay every Friday night. So I let the assassin dress me up and drag me out of the house just prior to ten PM. My body is fitted in tight black jeans and a precariously sheer grey shirt on top. Wanda joins us downstairs in the lobby. She's wearing a cute red skirt and black sweater to match the thigh high boots.