Marvel shorties

Get Lucky

Characters: Captain America / Steve Rogers, The Winter Soldier / Bucky, Falcon / Sam Wilson, Black Widow / Natasha Romanoff.

***

Natasha Romanoff flew the quinjet through the night sky. Their destination was Prague, their target the former Hydra assassin The Winter Soldier. Or Steve's childhood friend from before he went into the ice, James Buchanan Barnes, a.k.a. Bucky. Which one of the two personalities embedded into one body they would encounter was like playing Russian Roulette: you needed a lot of luck, combined with the right skills to trick your partner. But Natasha was willing to take the chance. For Steve, but also for Bucky himself. Even when that meant taking the same chance over and over again, in different cities all over Europe.

"We're almost there. You ready?" she asked over her shoulder, knowing Sam Wilson was sitting close behind her.

He hit the keyboard of the computer one last time. "Video surveillance of that parking garage is down. They have a power black out, or so they think. You can land."

Their intel said Bucky was staying in an old housing project, pending demolition. Most of the occupants had already moved out, a perfect spot for an assassin on the run. Steve Rogers got up from his seat and leaned with his hand on the upper beam of the cockpit. He peered into the night sky, the lights of the city beneath them coming closer and closer.

"Don't run this time, Bucky," he mumbled. It was still incomprehensible to him that they had such different goals now. That used to be different, back in the day. They might not always have quite the same motives, but the end goal was always that they stuck together, no matter what. But now... Now, all Steve wanted to do was find Bucky and bring him home. And Bucky... well, he wanted the complete opposite of that.

"You think we can catch him this time?"

Steve looked back to Sam, who had turned in his chair to watch him. "I don't want to catch him," Steve answered. "I want to take him home."

"Yes, only in this case 'taking home' is something like getting a muzzle on a tiger." Sam arched his eyebrows. He wanted to help Steve find his friend, but that friend packed a mean kick.

The quinjet landed on the emtpy rooftop of the parking garage. Their jet was cloaked, obscuring it from view for any onlookers. Only those who knew what to look for could spot the small gusts of wind that indicated something landed on the tiled rooftop. Let's just hope Bucky Barnes wasn't one of the onlookers.

The complex where Bucky supposedly lived in, was one block away from the parking garage. Landing on top of the housing complex would have been more convenient for getting away, but if they did that, coming to Prague would surely have been a waste of time. This way there was still a small chance they would get a hold of Bucky. At first, even catching a glimpse of the Winter Soldier had been hard. Sometimes he was already long gone before they got there. But, Steve kept persisting and his stubborness started to pay off. Last time, he actually had exchanged a few words with Bucky. An angry Bucky, who barely acknowledged his name was Bucky, but still.

They had reached the building. Steve signalled for Sam and Natasha to get in position. He would go in through the front door, Sam would take the roof and Natasha the fire escape. Steve walked the empty halls, trying to keep the sounds to a minimum. It was the dead of the night, surely the Winter Soldier needed sleep too?

On his earpiece he could hear Sam humming a song. Something upbeat. Steve was grateful for his friend's support in this wild goose chase all over Europe, but right now that friend needed to shut up.

"Sam," Steve said in a warning tone.

"Sorry," came the immediate reply, followed by the intel Steve needed from the scanner in Sam's equipement. "There's a person in the bedroom. Asleep. We might as well get lucky tonight."

Although the small explosive made barely a sound, it was still an explosive. But there was no other way for Steve to get in. He opened the door slowly, fully aware of the possibility Bucky was on the other side, a gun trained on his head. But the living room was empty and Steve slowly made his way to the bedroom. The door was half way open, no way of knowing whether Bucky did that a second ago or if he had just left the door open when he went to sleep. Either way, his old friend knew he was here.

"Bucky? I don't want to fight you," Steve said, his shield raised in case his friend had other ideas about that.

Silence.

"Can we talk, Buck?"

The tip of an automatic rifle came in view. A second later the former Hydra assassin was standing in the doorway, rifle deceptively loose in his hands. He had been sleeping in his clothes and his hair was a little tousled, however, the look in his eyes was sharp and cunning. Never wake a sleeping tiger.

"You shouldn't have come here." His voice was measured, cold.

"This is no way to live, Buck. Let me take you home." Steve lowered his shield a little. If Bucky had wanted to kill him, he would have done so already.

"Then stop hunting me," Bucky said, showing a little emotion this time. It was anger.

"I'm not hunting you," Steve pleaded, lowering his shield a little more.

"Sure looks like it."

Steve sighed. "I just want to help you, Bucky."

"Stop calling me that." Bucky took a step back into the bedroom.

Although this conversation was no where near the talk Steve really wanted to have with his old friend, at least he was talking. They had exchanged more words than last time, this was what he would call progress. So he took a step forward.

Wrong.

Bucky slammed the door shut. Steve shot forward, but the door was locked. In the second it took him to take a step back before launching himself against the door, Bucky had scrambled out of the window.

"He's out of the window!" Steve called out.

"I've got eyes on him," Natasha replied in his earpiece.

"Don't shoot!"

"Copy that. But he's getting away, Cap."

Steve leaned out of the window, watching Bucky leaping down from a windowsill on the first floor. "I can see that."

He ran over to the window in the living room, to the fire escape. Natasha had already reached the ground, sprinting after Bucky. Steve leaped the stairs, jumping from landing to landing.

"Sam! You've got eyes on him?"

"Yes. But... Oh, shit, he's going to the subway." Steve could hear the wind blowing in the microphone as Sam made a sharp descend.

"I thought that subway was closed?" Natasha said, her breathing a little hitched from running.

"It's out of order. But they didn't close the entrance apparently." Sam landed with a small tud at the entrance. Natasha and Steve stopped next to him.

"Be careful," Steve said, before descending the stairs. Bucky had the advantage on them, they were walking into a dark hole.

Nothing happened.

The subway station was empty.

Natasha lit up the tunnels with a flashlight. "He could have gone either way," she said, turning the flashlight from left to right.

"Or through one of those doors," Sam replied, pointing to service doors on the other side of the track.

"Anything on the scanner?" Steve asked, hoping against all odds.

Sam checked the readings. "Nope. No body heat detected except for us three."

Natasha put a hand on Steve's shoulder. "Better luck next time. You got him to talk to you again, that's good. And he didn't shoot you."

"I know."

The three of them headed back up the stairs. Sam was humming that song again, this time softly singing the lyrics too.

"We're up all night 'til the sun / We're up all night to get some / We're up all night for good fun / We're up all night to get Bucky."