Pushing Daisies [BUCKY BARNES]

25

"You know," she started when the door opened, "I genuinely think you would have a more complex Starbucks order then me."

It was quiet as he just stood, staring at her.

She was sitting up, moving around, talking. She was awake, and she was eating applesauce through a straw. "You seem like the kind of person who likes so many things that you just get them all at once. I need to take you to Starbucks sometime, you would really like it."

He could barely move, barely function properly. It felt like his brain was going into hyperdrive, thoughts moving so fast that he couldn't even process them. He just stood in the doorway, staring at the tiny girl propped up in the hospital bed. He wanted to say something, anything, but he couldn't move a muscle.

When she got no response from him, she kept talking. "I cry over the ASPCA commercials, the girl who sings in them is always so sad, and the puppies all need families." She sighed, rubbed her hands together, then looked back up at him. "So it's been a while, huh?"

Before he knew what was going on, his body was moving. He crossed the room in seconds, took her cup of applesauce and placed it on the bedside table, then leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

She jumped at the contact, not expecting it after his momentary freeze-out, but quickly melted into it. Her lips moved in synchronization with his, and her only hand reached up to grab at his long brown hair, deepening everything about the moment.

He was gentle, more gentle then he had ever been with anything before, and he placed his hands on her cheeks as though she were made of glass. He had a momentary spike of fear that this was all just a dream, something inside his head, but she bit at his lip gently and he knew that this was her. That she was awake again.

They separated, both breathing heavily, their foreheads bumping together gently.

She smiled, then, her white teeth sparkling for the first time in three months. "You know, for a first kiss, I'd like to say I'm very impressed, Sergeant Barnes."

He smiled back, pressing their lips back together quickly. "That was your first kiss?"

She kissed him again, "and my second, and my third too. Seems to be a very spectacular day for me."

He let the thumb on his flesh hand rub against her cheek lovingly, "well, I'm glad to be the one to take them."

"I'm glad too." She bumped her forehead to his again, pressed a quick kiss to his nose, then adjusted to she was sitting up a bit straighter. "Now, good sir, gimme back my applesauce."

He laughed now. A good, heavy laugh that hadn't left his throat since their apartment in Europe. Picking up the white paper cup with a green straw, he handed it back to her and she took it gratefully.

"Now," she scolded, tapping her index finger in the rim of the cup, "I wasn't finished with you."

"Did you just yell at your applesauce?"

She flushed a bright pink, "n-no." She paused, then jokingly glared at him. "You didn't see anything, got it?"

He laughed and pressed his lips to her forehead. "Sure thing, doll."

The door opened again, and the doctor stood there smiling. "Ah, Mr. Barnes, I see you've received the good news."

He nodded to the doctor, "sure have, sir."

"Good," the doctor smiled at the two of them. He was overjoyed to see the smile on Bucky's face, something that the super soldier had been sorely lacking in his daily visits to the bedside. "Well, the news may have travelled by now. Miss Jacobs, would you be against seeing others at this time if they so choose to come down?"

She shook her head, slurping from her cup of applesauce. "No problem, I dunno how long I was out for but I'm sure if someone shows up I'll be glad to see them."

The doctor nodded, then shut the door again and meandered down the hall.

James picked up one of the plastic chairs and brought it to her bedside, taking a seat. "Why are you drinking applesauce from a straw again?"

She slurped once more, before making incoherent whining noises about how she had run out of applesauce. "It's more fun to drink it."

He chose not to question it, just simply rolled his eyes and took up her hand, squeezing it gently.

She squeezed back, looking over at him and smiling brightly. "Did they say when I would be able to get up and move again?"

He shook his head, "nah, not yet. Probably soon though." It fell silent for a few seconds, "Lill, you know about your..."

She took a deep breath. "Yeah. That. It's all gonna be good though. The doctor said that Tony was working on a prosthesis for me to use."

"A prosthesis? Like mine?"

"I'm not sure..." she mused, her lips pursing as she thought about it. "Maybe?"

He sighed, not exactly happy about the fact that she would end up like him. Bionic and all, stuck with something that you don't want.

"Hey," she started, seeing the distant look in his eyes, "even if it does look like yours, even if it is some hunk of metal, it's my right arm. Yours is your left. That way no matter how we hold hands we'll always be matching!"

He couldn't help but laugh at her realization and her optimism. She had a point, though. If she got a metal prosthesis like his then he would never have to worry about accidentally crushing her flesh hand. "You're right. We'll always be matching."

"Also!" She quipped, taking her hand out of his and leaning to reach for something on the other side of the bed. When she sat up, she slapped something to his metal arm and grinned wolfishly. "A little gift from me to you, Metallica."

He looked down, and sitting across the red star on his arm was a fridge magnet with the words 'I Love My Girlfriend' written across it in big letters. "Really," he deadpanned, looking up at her, "a fridge magnet?"

"I thought it was cute," she pouted, crossing her arm across her chest indignantly. "It is cute!"

"Sure, we'll go with that."

It got quiet again, the only noise was the beeping of the heart monitor and the whirr of the ceiling fan overhead.

She stuck out her arm, beckoning to him. "Get in with me?"

He wanted to be hesitant. He knew that it wasn't right to sleep with a girl unless you were married, one of the traits that had stuck over since his time in the forties, but nevertheless he stood and crawled into the squeaky hospital bed next to her, taking up her hand again in his own.

"This is comfy," she mused, pressing a kiss to his nose, "we should do this more often."

"What, you waking up from a coma? I'd like to disagree on that one."

"No no no, silly." She laughed, "this. Just laying together. It's nice."

He sighed gently and ran a hand through her  long blonde hair, almost getting the feeling that it was more alive then it had been yesterday. "I'd like that."

"Good," she muttered, shifting closer and burying her head into the space between his neck and his shoulder. "You're so warm."

He just smiled a little bigger and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. "Only for you, doll."

"Good." She whispered now, and he thought she was asleep again when her body lost some of the tension it had been holding.

He kissed her forehead, then the white forelock of hair at the front of her head, then the knuckles of her hand. "Love ya, doll."

She shifted gently, "love you too, James."