[oom] I'm right here beside you

[from_the_outside]

 Sleep is a joke.

It's not just the intel that she stays up sifting through, blue light straining her eyes; it's not just the coffee she drinks, trying to keep her brain sharp and her thoughts on track. 

It's time.

Minutes that slip away, that she can't get back. Hours that tick ponderously past. She lies alone in her bed and can't close her eyes because if she does, if she sleeps, it's another night gone, another night closer to the day Bucky goes back under and –

So she stays up and works. 

It means that when she waits for him in the morning to come find her before they meet with T'Challa and the others, her skin is pale and translucent and she has that sick feeling of an all-nighter, fatigue poisons running rampant through her bloodstream – but she has a list of observations from her analysis, and two mugs of coffee kept warm on the credenza: one pale with milk and sugar, the other black and as strong as her little coffee maker could handle.

Comments

[nerves_of_ice]

He finishes the piece of bread he's been working on and nods to her cup. "Do you want more?"

[from_the_outside]

"Sure."

She nudges it towards him, her mouth quirking. "Not as good as the pinot gris in Leipzig, but it's not bad, huh?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"Like I said then, I'll trust your judgment when it comes to wine," he tells her. "But yes, it's good."

He gives a thoughtful look around at the picnic spread out on the green throw as he picks up the bottle and refills both their cups, then looks back at her, just as thoughtfully.

[from_the_outside]

She gives him a mock-thoughtful look in return as she sips at her wine, before digging back into the vegetables and rice.

Evenings like this, it's hard to imagine that by this time next week he'll be back under and she'll be...

Here, maybe. Or somewhere out on the op.

Neither of which she wants to think about just now.

[nerves_of_ice]

As he remembers that night in Leipzig -- well, sometimes he still thinks she would have been happier with Steve, but Steve had been very clear about it. And she'd been stubborn, too.

The corner of his mouth quirks up again as he takes another sip of wine, then leans on his elbow, watching her.

"Pretty evening," he observes.

[from_the_outside]

"Seems like it always is, here," she says, watching him relax. It's not quite to the level of how he'd lain in the sun like a rug someone had thrown there, but she's satisfied for now.

"Hardly ever rains? Beautiful sunsets? The best company? Perfect for a picnic."

[nerves_of_ice]

"I'm not sure if I'm the best company," he drawls, "but otherwise I'll agree with that."

"And you're really good at putting together picnics."

[from_the_outside]

"I told you, it's one of my many winning qualities."

She sips at her wine and settles to sit on her hip, mouth twitching. "And that's okay. It only matters if I think you are. You're not keeping yourself company."

[nerves_of_ice]

He raises his eyebrows at that.

"Oh, so what I think doesn't matter?"

[from_the_outside]

She laughs and shakes her head.

"You can't honestly think I'm going to fall for that."

[nerves_of_ice]

He grins, quick and bright.

"Had to check."

[from_the_outside]

She grins back and pops a piece of fruit into her mouth.

"And I know I'm good company, so..."

She can't even finish the sentence without laughing.

[nerves_of_ice]

"Can't argue with that," Bucky says. "Even when you're giving me grief."

[from_the_outside]

"I better hope so," she says, and leans over to give him a kiss, smiling against his mouth.

"Seeing as that's most of the time."

[nerves_of_ice]

"I don't mind," he murmurs, after the kiss breaks. "In a way, it's kind of nice."

[from_the_outside]

"Nice? Really?"

She's teasing, fond and bright as she bites her lip at him and sits back. "Seems kind of awful of me."

[nerves_of_ice]

He huffs out a soft, amused breath.

"You don't tease people you don't like. Not like that, you don't."

[from_the_outside]

"Hmm."

She sips at her wine and sets the cup down, giving him a considering look. "I guess I like you, then."

Maybe a little.

[nerves_of_ice]

He stays where he is, easy and relaxed, leaning on his elbow with the cup of wine held loosely in his hand, and smiles at her.

"I'm glad to hear it. Especially since I like you too."

[from_the_outside]

"Well, that's a relief. You play it very cool."

Which is a straight lie, but she can't care, because it is a beautiful evening and the sun is just starting to edge along the horizon, and it's been too long since she's gotten a chance to sit and sip wine with him over a good meal.

[nerves_of_ice]

Without missing a beat, he says, "Maybe I'm ... just out of practice."

His tone, his inflection, is as near a match as he can make it to the one he was using in a cottage in France, some time ago.

[from_the_outside]

There's a curve to her mouth that says she hears it. "Maybe you are a little rusty," she says, and leans back over to him. "So let's try this again."

This time, though, she ends it with a kiss instead of a question that's nearly an accusation.

[nerves_of_ice]

He kisses her back, slow and gentle, as color begins to streak across the sky above them, here together in this moment of calm.

[from_the_outside]

When this kiss breaks, she leans her forehead against his and smiles, her hand still at his jaw. "Better."

How has it only been a week?

(How do they only have a week?)

She runs her fingers through his hair and sits up, nodding to the food. "Eat up, you handsome devil, before you distract me right out of dinner."

[nerves_of_ice]

"We can't have that," he concedes. "Not when you went to so much trouble."

He sits up as well, sets the cup aside carefully so that it won't spill, and reaches for another helping.