Drive. ~James Buchanan Barnes

Chapter 20

I stretch my still sore muscles before opening my eyes. Bucky sits at the small table across the room, tilting his head before speaking.

"I was getting worried." He says with a grin, "You slept for 18 hours."

I yawn, "You should have been there the first time I tried something like this. Kept it up for two days. Was out of commission for five."

"You need to be more careful. We could have figured something else out." He mutters.

"Which is why I didn't tell you." I counter, "Anything else would have taken more time.  More time for Hydra to catch up to us."

Bucky sighs, refusing to argue further, "I've already been looking at apartments.  There are plenty here in Barcelona, unless you'd prefer somewhere else."

I shake my head, "From what little I saw of the city yesterday, it looks great.  Plenty of open air markets, plenty of small sellers.  Lots of ways to blend in."

"Now you just need to learn the language."  He says with a smirk.

"Until we have to move again, and then I have to learn another language. Who knows, maybe we'll go to Romania next." I chuckle.

He thinks for a moment, "Well, Bucharest wouldn't actually be a bad idea..."

"We just got to Spain." I groan.

"You brought it up." He retorts.

We stay silent for a moment as Bucky leafs through pamphlets and news articles. He seems tired.

Then again, he always does. I know it takes a toll on him. What Hydra did...I wonder if I let his only chance to be rid of them slip through our fingers in Atlanta.

"...Do you think that was the only notebook?" I ask softly.

"I don't even think that was the original. They wouldn't have risked taking it on a mission. It was probably a copy." He explains.

I nod thoughtfully, "We should find it."

"Maybe someday." He murmurs, "but for now we just need to focus on avoiding the people who have it."

"What happened at the airport..." I trail off.

He stiffens slightly, saying nothing.

I roll my eyes, giving a slight smirk, "You know we should talk about it."

"Ah...yeah.  I guess." He grumbles, not meeting my eyes, "What about it?"

I grin, watching him, "I was just gonna say that, for a 95 year old, you're a pretty decent kisser."

"I'm 97.  Decent?" He turns to look at me then, one eyebrow raised.

I ease my way into a standing position, shrugging, "Well...I mean it's been a while.  It's understandable that you'd be a little...out of practice."

"Out of practice?" His mouth slowly turns up into a grin, "I'll show you out of practice."

Before I can respond, he is out of his chair, his hand on my face as he forces me back down into a sitting position on the bed.  The hand reaches up and entangles itself in my hair as his mouth moves on mine. 

I chuckle, but I'm not satisfied.

I search for his left hand with my right, and when I find it, I bring it up to rest it on my waist before reaching up to wrap my arms around his neck.

We could go further, and I think we might, but a knock is heard at the door and suddenly we are both in high alert.

"¿Quién es?" Bucky calls to the door.

"¡Servicio de habitaciones! ¿Hay algo que pueda conseguirte? ¿Debería volver más tarde?" We hear back.

Bucky sighs and relaxes slightly, "Sí, vuelve dentro de un rato.  Vamos a salir más tarde."

"...Room service?" I ask at length.

"Yeah.  I told her to come back in a bit." He replies casually, "Get changed, we should see the city."

I nod, turning to grab a change of clothes and making my way to the bathroom door. 

I pause, turning back to look at him, "You know, that wasn't exactly what I meant by talking."

"Disappointed?" He smirks.

I shake my head.

"Not in the slightest."

Translations:

"Who is it?"

"Room service! Is there anything I can get you? Should I come back later?"

"Yes, come back in a little while.  We're going out later."