Searching for James

Ch. 3: House Guest

After walking a while longer, Scythe realized where they were headed. “Have you been staying at the homeless shelter?”

“Good place to blend in. No one asks or cares who anyone is.”

"Wait,” she protested and stopped in front of him.

“What?” he asked harshly.

“When was the last time you had a decent sleep?”

“That’s not your problem.”

She ignored that. “Listen, let’s go to my flat - my apartment. I have food, running water, and real beds to sleep on.”

“So you can stab me in my sleep?” he snapped. The acusation stung but didn’t surprise her.

“Is the proof I’ve given not enough?” she asked levelly.

“That necklace doesn’t mean anything.”

“Alright,” she answered and pulled her knife out of her waist band. “Here,” she handed it to him. She brought another out of her sleeve. “And here. You can search my apartment when we get there and you can use your weapons bag as a pillow if you’d like.”

Bucky had to admit, this girl was tenacious. “How do you know I won’t kill you?”

“I don’t” she replied, a slight smile on her lips. “But I trust anyone Natasha trusts. And so I trust Steve Rogers’ opinion of you.”

“I’m not how he remembers me.”

“Then I trust my own opinion of you. For one, I don’t think you would stab me in my sleep. You aren’t such a coward.” Her compliment was unexpected, and his next words came out less harsh than he intended.

“I’ve killed men that way before.”

“I’ve read the reports. You were in a different state of mind then.” The sureness of her response made him stop. He lost whatever he was going to say. “I know you have a vendetta with HYDRA," she continued, "but you should know I was chasing them before this. If we’re both against them, it only makes sense that we work together. My apartment would be a useful base of operations or a safe house. They don’t know we’re together; they think you’re working alone. They won’t even be looking for me, which will be to our advantage.”

Bucky was still hesitant to accept the offer. He still didn’t trust the easy way this girl spoke to him, or the way she subtly omitted details about herself.

She was still speaking. “And if you go to the homeless shelter, they will find you and the people there will get caught in the crossfire.”

She was right and he’d been planning to move on from the shelter but hadn’t found a place to go. He needed somewhere to lay low and to keep out of sight. Although he didn't want to accept it, this apartment would be useful. If he had to take her out later, then he would.

“Fine” he answered. She smile and turned to lead the way, hiding her total shock. As much as she’d worked to convince him, she never expected to succeed.

                                                        . . . .

“Sorry for the mess.”

Bucky had stepped into Scythe’s living room on the third floor of a dingy apartment. The building had a faded cement color and was surrounded by others that looked just as sad. It was out-of-the-way and easy to miss; a perfect place to keep out of sight.

Scythe suddenly felt unsure about this. There were unwashed dishes in the dishwasher and unopened boxes still sitting around from when she’d moved in. Unsuitable for guests.

She rushed around, tidying up as discreetly as possible. “It looks small from outside but it’s actually quite spacious,” she explained while gathering stray papers on the table. “Please give me one second…” She shoved some books into a closet and threw the papers in the trash. Content with the improvement, she turned to Bucky who hadn’t walked a foot past the door.

Being cautious was ingrained into him. Furthermore, he was unused to entering someone’s home, especially through the entrance. He usually came in through the window. On past missions, he usually left places like this covered in blood.

She could tell he was uneasy. “Come in,” she urged. “Set your bag anywhere.”

He treaded carefully, like he was walking into a minefield, scanning the room. Scythe let him proceed without commenting. After a moment he approached more easily, still keeping his bag close.

“So this is the living room,” she motioned to it. “The kitchen,” she pointed to the section attached to the room that contained a few cabinets, a fridge, sink, and table. She let Bucky follow her into the short hallway and pointed at different doors. “The two on the right are my room and the room I use as my office. On the left is the storage closet and the bathroom. You can sleep in my office. The couch in there is nicer than the living room one.  Folds out into a bed”

What she didn’t say: Bucky would appreciate an extra door between the two of them, in case she tried to kill him in his sleep. Plus the fact that she was letting him near the computer where she kept her files ought to demonstrate her trust. Besides, there was nothing on that computer she minded him seeing, if he chose to break into it.

Bucky didn’t argue with the room arrangements. He glanced around, trying to spot any cameras or hidden mics.

“You could use a shower,” Scythe said. “Why don’t you use mine and I’ll make us some food?”

She turned toward the kitchen but he muttered, “Can I have a bucket?”

“What?”

“A bucket. For water.”

“Oh. Of course.”

If he was going to bathe, he didn’t want the sound of the shower to obstruct his hearing in case she tried to contact someone. Like HYDRA.