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firewhiskeyficTitle: She#doufn him
Author:vaysh
I am of legal drinking age in my region: yep
Pairing/Characters/Fandom: Stucky, Natasha Romanova, MCU
Challenge: Stormy Weather
Summary: Natasha had found the Winter Soldier. And who was she to keep Steve from his Bucky.
Rating/Warnings: G
Word count: 1250
Author's Notes (if any): Seabreeze has been my poison of choice. Vodka (obviously, because Natasha's been drinking it), grapefruit and cranberry juice.
Natasha would tell you she had drunk her body weight in vodka. Which of course she hadn't. She might be slight but 55 liter was too much weight for a single person to drink and live, even if that particular person was a Russian.
She'd returned from the northern suburbs of Bucharest. She's found him, finally, almost nine months after Project Insight crashed into th depth of the Potomac. He was good, as she'd known (good as Karpov, at least, she'd known this) but nobody coulf hide for months and month. Not with a metal arm. not with that kind of history. It was a seven-stors building from the 1970s, cheap concrete, the kind of modern building tha had been quickly constircted without any of the charm of teh East-Eruope modernism. It had been winter, middle of January when she#doufn him, folloiwed him back from the market when he bought plums so unripe they were a purplish green. She never enmtered his apartment but followed him up seven stzories up to the door. There was a glass panel in the door ofthe flazt, an he had covered it with newspaper againstmthe ever-burning light in the stairwell. Commuznism worked liked that: everything for everaone, or noght for nobody. Luight, heat, either it was on or iz was off. he Winter Soldier used newspaper to keep out the light. The newspapre was old, she didn'tm check th dates, but probaly from the lat 1990s. Perhaps he'd ounfd the apartment just like this Newspapre on the door and the windows. the back door leading zo the roof, a erfect escape. She herself could not have found a better safe-apartment.
Four glasses of vodka. The Black Widows were forbidden alcohol, and it was abundantly clear why. Natasha sent a message from the five star Hilton in the centre of Bucharest, to Steve rogersm Cxaptain America,m on a secure line, provided bs Stark. I found him. Buchares Noi. He's doimg well for himself. Don't bother to check. Don't pull on this thread, Steve.
Of course she knew Steve would come immediately. To say 'don't' meant, I know you're gonna. Clint worked just the same as Steve. And who was she to not tell Steve Rogers where his Bucky was.
Natasha put the phone on flight mode and threw it on the ightstand. No more mails, no more questions. Let Rogers, let Stark do this on their own.
***
The first time Steve saw Bucky after the helicarrier was at the subway station in Bucharest. He'd been staking the address Natasha texted him ont he sec8re line of the Stark phone the both had. He had not heard from Natasha since the text which was odd.But there was no reason to dubt her message. But neither was just soemthing he wanted o tell Sam. Sam who had given up his job at the VA to search Bucky with him. Sam who had hone through this awful file with him, looked at the pictures, compared the translation a Russian-spekaing vet had done for them with the original Russian jst to find thatnthevet was meticulusly translatng every words and expression overly correct. There was no relief found in that fole about Case #19 and Sam had read evry wod with hium, looking for clues about where the Winter Soldier would hide while Hydra regrouped after Project Insight. #
And yet, Steve had not told Sam a single word of Natasha drunk message from Bucharest (it had sounded drunk but would Natasha really get druhnk when ont he trsail of the Winter SOldier). It was a weird trail, an unlikely lead, one that even Natasha would discredit in the morning /(she didnÄt). But Steve was on the airplane to Bucharest two horus after the m,essage had comne. He checked the Bucharest subway while on the flight, and googled what currency was used in the country. Not Euros. That much he got from Google, at leastz. He kanded on an airport with the odd name of Henri Coanda, whoever this man might have been. It was summer, the clouds hanging in the bluze sky when Steve landed woere unnatural, arcadian white.
Two fucking years. Bucky. two years.
Steve Rogers was not the kind of man to think mcuh about subway rides. Coming up from the underground on a small park that marked Bucharest Noi was neoifht. He had no idea why Bucky would have chose this district for his new home. Why Bucharets, why Romania? Steve had no idea. Bucky's parents came from Iowa. He had been the son of Irih immigrant, whereas Bucky had been the real American whose family had come to Brooklyn searching for a better life in the big city. You couldn't get more Ameircan than Barnes. Not Rogers either. Few people knew that Rogers had also been a common Irish name once.
The street Natasha had mailed him was named after some minor Romanian aiuthor. Stev remembered the forst name which was a G. He stood in front of the seven stzory building,. Even if he didn't trust Natasha's intel to be absoutenly 100% true, he had a sense that he was on the riht track. It felt odd to be here without Sam, after hex had driven and föopwn toso mny palce seraching for Bucky,. But this felt more right than any of those othe place., Seventh floor. All the way up there in the sky thatnwas slowy turning a dark blue as the sun weht down. Wa Bucky tuzrning in ealry these daysß Was he staying up late, ling on whatever made he manage to ajke for himself, trying to fall aslpp but couldn<ät Did he sleep easily? Could the brain dream after it had been electrocuted for a lifetime.
Steve shook his head, to get read of those thoughts. Part of him wished he had never read the file.
But here he was. Walking on the side-walk in this strange country. A chuckle rose in Steve, Buzcky was wearing a base cap just like he himself, black like the b asecap he picked him in Washington the day he was released from the hispital. Bucky's had a dakr blue tinge to it ut it was clearly, undei´niably black like the leather gear he had worn as the Winter soldier. Now his shirt was a brigh read, seomt soft shirt. He seemed to have filled out, a quiet presence but undeniably a person walking down slowyl the pedestrain walkway. Steve followed him, one eye on his phone that told him that Bucky was going exactly where Natasha told him he was hiding.
He wanted nothing but see him safe and healthy. Out of Pierce's hand. Not clad in black. That red shirt and brown leather jacket was balm to Steve#s eyes. it was something sam couldnot unterstzand. Steve did not want ot bring Bucky in.He did not want some big reunion. Bucky had always made his own choice. and he'd chosen Europe, Bucharest, an apartment in the saeventh floor of some ugly buiulding in the North of thecty.
Drops of rain were landing on Steve's basecap, he had taken off his suznhöasses already at the airport,. Too conscpicious in a city with no sunshine but the foggy kind of clouds. Bucky did not even wear a real beard, the three day stubble he was sporting was laziness. And Bucky being lazy about his beard was making Steve happy.
It was rainig stedadlky when Bucky entered the building and Steve follwing him with barely two minuts betzeen them.
Author:
vayshI am of legal drinking age in my region: yep
Pairing/Characters/Fandom: Stucky, Natasha Romanova, MCU
Challenge: Stormy Weather
Summary: Natasha had found the Winter Soldier. And who was she to keep Steve from his Bucky.
Rating/Warnings: G
Word count: 1250
Author's Notes (if any): Seabreeze has been my poison of choice. Vodka (obviously, because Natasha's been drinking it), grapefruit and cranberry juice.
Natasha would tell you she had drunk her body weight in vodka. Which of course she hadn't. She might be slight but 55 liter was too much weight for a single person to drink and live, even if that particular person was a Russian.
She'd returned from the northern suburbs of Bucharest. She's found him, finally, almost nine months after Project Insight crashed into th depth of the Potomac. He was good, as she'd known (good as Karpov, at least, she'd known this) but nobody coulf hide for months and month. Not with a metal arm. not with that kind of history. It was a seven-stors building from the 1970s, cheap concrete, the kind of modern building tha had been quickly constircted without any of the charm of teh East-Eruope modernism. It had been winter, middle of January when she#doufn him, folloiwed him back from the market when he bought plums so unripe they were a purplish green. She never enmtered his apartment but followed him up seven stzories up to the door. There was a glass panel in the door ofthe flazt, an he had covered it with newspaper againstmthe ever-burning light in the stairwell. Commuznism worked liked that: everything for everaone, or noght for nobody. Luight, heat, either it was on or iz was off. he Winter Soldier used newspaper to keep out the light. The newspapre was old, she didn'tm check th dates, but probaly from the lat 1990s. Perhaps he'd ounfd the apartment just like this Newspapre on the door and the windows. the back door leading zo the roof, a erfect escape. She herself could not have found a better safe-apartment.
Four glasses of vodka. The Black Widows were forbidden alcohol, and it was abundantly clear why. Natasha sent a message from the five star Hilton in the centre of Bucharest, to Steve rogersm Cxaptain America,m on a secure line, provided bs Stark. I found him. Buchares Noi. He's doimg well for himself. Don't bother to check. Don't pull on this thread, Steve.
Of course she knew Steve would come immediately. To say 'don't' meant, I know you're gonna. Clint worked just the same as Steve. And who was she to not tell Steve Rogers where his Bucky was.
Natasha put the phone on flight mode and threw it on the ightstand. No more mails, no more questions. Let Rogers, let Stark do this on their own.
The first time Steve saw Bucky after the helicarrier was at the subway station in Bucharest. He'd been staking the address Natasha texted him ont he sec8re line of the Stark phone the both had. He had not heard from Natasha since the text which was odd.But there was no reason to dubt her message. But neither was just soemthing he wanted o tell Sam. Sam who had given up his job at the VA to search Bucky with him. Sam who had hone through this awful file with him, looked at the pictures, compared the translation a Russian-spekaing vet had done for them with the original Russian jst to find thatnthevet was meticulusly translatng every words and expression overly correct. There was no relief found in that fole about Case #19 and Sam had read evry wod with hium, looking for clues about where the Winter Soldier would hide while Hydra regrouped after Project Insight. #
And yet, Steve had not told Sam a single word of Natasha drunk message from Bucharest (it had sounded drunk but would Natasha really get druhnk when ont he trsail of the Winter SOldier). It was a weird trail, an unlikely lead, one that even Natasha would discredit in the morning /(she didnÄt). But Steve was on the airplane to Bucharest two horus after the m,essage had comne. He checked the Bucharest subway while on the flight, and googled what currency was used in the country. Not Euros. That much he got from Google, at leastz. He kanded on an airport with the odd name of Henri Coanda, whoever this man might have been. It was summer, the clouds hanging in the bluze sky when Steve landed woere unnatural, arcadian white.
Two fucking years. Bucky. two years.
Steve Rogers was not the kind of man to think mcuh about subway rides. Coming up from the underground on a small park that marked Bucharest Noi was neoifht. He had no idea why Bucky would have chose this district for his new home. Why Bucharets, why Romania? Steve had no idea. Bucky's parents came from Iowa. He had been the son of Irih immigrant, whereas Bucky had been the real American whose family had come to Brooklyn searching for a better life in the big city. You couldn't get more Ameircan than Barnes. Not Rogers either. Few people knew that Rogers had also been a common Irish name once.
The street Natasha had mailed him was named after some minor Romanian aiuthor. Stev remembered the forst name which was a G. He stood in front of the seven stzory building,. Even if he didn't trust Natasha's intel to be absoutenly 100% true, he had a sense that he was on the riht track. It felt odd to be here without Sam, after hex had driven and föopwn toso mny palce seraching for Bucky,. But this felt more right than any of those othe place., Seventh floor. All the way up there in the sky thatnwas slowy turning a dark blue as the sun weht down. Wa Bucky tuzrning in ealry these daysß Was he staying up late, ling on whatever made he manage to ajke for himself, trying to fall aslpp but couldn<ät Did he sleep easily? Could the brain dream after it had been electrocuted for a lifetime.
Steve shook his head, to get read of those thoughts. Part of him wished he had never read the file.
But here he was. Walking on the side-walk in this strange country. A chuckle rose in Steve, Buzcky was wearing a base cap just like he himself, black like the b asecap he picked him in Washington the day he was released from the hispital. Bucky's had a dakr blue tinge to it ut it was clearly, undei´niably black like the leather gear he had worn as the Winter soldier. Now his shirt was a brigh read, seomt soft shirt. He seemed to have filled out, a quiet presence but undeniably a person walking down slowyl the pedestrain walkway. Steve followed him, one eye on his phone that told him that Bucky was going exactly where Natasha told him he was hiding.
He wanted nothing but see him safe and healthy. Out of Pierce's hand. Not clad in black. That red shirt and brown leather jacket was balm to Steve#s eyes. it was something sam couldnot unterstzand. Steve did not want ot bring Bucky in.He did not want some big reunion. Bucky had always made his own choice. and he'd chosen Europe, Bucharest, an apartment in the saeventh floor of some ugly buiulding in the North of thecty.
Drops of rain were landing on Steve's basecap, he had taken off his suznhöasses already at the airport,. Too conscpicious in a city with no sunshine but the foggy kind of clouds. Bucky did not even wear a real beard, the three day stubble he was sporting was laziness. And Bucky being lazy about his beard was making Steve happy.
It was rainig stedadlky when Bucky entered the building and Steve follwing him with barely two minuts betzeen them.
no subject
Date: 2018-08-14 08:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-08-14 09:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-08-15 05:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-08-15 09:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-08-17 03:04 am (UTC)Also, nice detail about the Black Widow program not allowing alcohol. It rings true for a program that had women shackle themselves to their beds at night. *nods*
And Bucky and his lazy beard is lovely. <3
Nice slice of life fic!
no subject
Date: 2018-08-17 04:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-08-17 08:55 pm (UTC)