Before The Last Grain

Chapter 8

Two weeks later, things have regained a sense of normalcy after James returned to Boston. But the shadow of his hanging above their lives and his name luring at the back of their throats are realities they refuse to acknowledge. With the hundreds of miles separating Bucky from them, the threat he represents wanes every new day.

Natasha is practicing some new symphonies at the piano of the philharmonic center. Eyes closed, earbuds like cotton, her fingers run across the keyboard daringly. It is one of those moments where nothing else other than the music counts. It is peaceful. Relieving even. Her spirit soars as high as the notes surging from the strings.

Her fingertips become as hard as a rock when she heavily presses the last keys. Then stillness. Her hands freeze, collapse in blissful surrender as the last note dies out in the air. She breathes in.

"It was marvelous," she hears.

Her eyes open wide and dart in the direction of the familiar voice. She feels her throat get a little tight.

"James," she almost calls in an interrogative tone. "I thought you were back in Boston."

Bucky comes to lean on the piano as his hand brushes over the wood.

"There is an important exhibition deal I'm trying to get for the gallery. I got a call this morning and hopped on the first plane."

She nods without a word but he can read the uneasiness that has carved on her face.

"You don't seem thrilled to see me," he remarks with a playful smirk.

She gets up and nervously runs a hand through her red hair.

"No, it's not that. It's just...I never have any other visitor than Ruth here. I know it may sound silly — but not even Steve has come here."

James nods comprehensively. "I get it. It's your space. I don't let anyone in my painting studio either."

She smiles.

He heads toward the exit. "I'll be in town for the next two days probably. Can I call you later? There's somewhere I'd like to take you."

His grin lets on his tamed excitement.

"Sure," she answers, clearing her throat, as it dawns on her that the lull from the last two weeks has just come to an end.

"Does Steve know you're in New York?" she asks.

He nonchalantly shakes the jacket he's holding in his hand. "I'll tell him," he answers, winks in her direction, and disappears.

She sits back on the bench, slightly dazed. She numbly stares down at her keyboard — they look hollow all of a sudden.

On the lower ground, Steve has just arrived to surprise Natasha with a lunch meal together after leaving a meeting with a new client in the block earlier than expected. He stands by the reception counter, left vacant for lunchtime, and waits patiently that she comes down.

He is almost panic-stricken when he sees his brother step out of the elevator. He furrows his brows deeply. Bucky halts in surprise upon seeing him but quickly regained composure.

"I didn't expect to see you here," he says casually.

"Neither did I," Steve answers more sternly. He can't push away the obsessive thought that James was upstairs where he has never been allowed. "What were you doing up there?"

James pauses, glances back at the elevator, crossed by the same thought. He glances back at Steve with a slightly mischievous smile. "Nat invited me. It was just for a quick chat."