Archive of Our Own

Saturday:

Another day, another commotion at the facility.

At least this time he wasn’t getting a grenade thrown at him. That could really ruin a weekend.

Bucky watched as men in matching polos unloaded boxes from trucks. Tony stood over to the side, jabbing at his tablet and looking up once in a while to answer questions or call out directions.

His footing with Stark was still shaky but he approached the other man anyways.

“What’s going on?”

“I finally got them to move in,” Tony answered, pride in his voice. “I like to have the team all under one roof. Like those little collectable dolls with the giant heads.”

Bucky stared at him for a beat.

“Do not tell Steve I said that,” Tony continued. “Anyways, the Avengers facility is now the official Earth residence of Thor and friends. And lady friend.”

“Lady friend?”

“Yeah. His dame, his main squeeze, his sweetiepie –”

“I know what it means, Stark. What’s she like?”

“You’ll meet her. Astrophysicist. Almost as brilliant as yours truly,” drawled Stark.

Bucky rolled his eyes. Sometimes Stark was so much like Howard, it made his head spin.

Tony continued, “Brown hair. Y’know, scientist-type. Anyways, she’s carrying the heir to Asgard so maybe don’t turn on that notorious old-timey charm, huh?”

The tablet beeped and flashed red, and Tony mumbled at it angrily.

“Tell the movers if they break any furniture, I can’t protect them from the wrath of an angry alien god!” he called out over his shoulder as he made his way back inside.

Bucky didn’t sign up for supervising duty, so he made to head in too when a black SUV pulled up beside a moving truck. Loud music bellowed out from the open windows then shut off abruptly as the vehicle parked. Thor hopped out the passenger side, wearing a very non-Asgardian getup of jeans and a t-shirt. He went over to the other side and pulled open the door.

Thor’s ‘lady friend’ did have brown hair, long wavy curls of it in fact, but ‘scientist-type’ was not the words he’d use to describe her. At least not the kind of scientist he ever had the misfortune to meet. She wore a sweet little floral dress that showed off a pair of shapely legs. She also wore a pair of dusty, black boots.

She raised her arms above her head to stretch and when the hem of her skirt rose, he had to tear his gaze away back to those ridiculous boots.

It’d been a while since he let himself really admire a pretty woman and he felt a bit off-kilter, if he was being honest.

Thor and his girl exchanged a few words then she laughed patting Thor’s bicep. The blond responded with a joyful grin before he popped open the trunk and began unloading their things from the vehicle.

When she sighted Bucky, her plush red lips curled into a friendly smile.

The back of his neck went hot.

“Hey, Sergeant Cutie, wanna use that sweet arm to help me carry this box?”

And with that, Bucky was ice cold.

Because those words, made up of loopy, round letters, were the ones scrawled on his hip.

Never in a million years did he ever expect to meet his soulmate. With the way everything in his life had gone he figured he’d be grateful to no longer be a mind-controlled attack dog. He’d lived for so long without meeting them he figured his poor soulmate was either already dead or in a rocking chair in a nursing home.

And he was alright with that. He’d made peace with it.

He was not alright with his soulmate apparently being the gorgeous, vivacious girl in front of him, hand shielding her face from the sun, smirking expectantly.

“Ah! Bucky Barnes! Good to see you again!” Thor exclaimed, his happy, booming voice snapping him out of his thoughts. The Asgardian had two enormous boxes balanced on his shoulders. “This is Darcy. Darcy, Bucky Barnes - a fine warrior!” Thor turned to give a look at his companion, who rolled her eyes amiably. Thor grinned back and began following the movers indoors.

Darcy. Her name was Darcy.

Darcy was his soulmate, he thought with a jittery, sick feeling that went down to his toes. And Darcy already with someone else. Was going to have a baby with someone else. A god, no less. They were going to be a family.

“So,” Darcy called over, hands on her hips. “Can you help me with these? Heard you’ve got that cool super serum and I don’t wanna make two trips.”

He nodded and when he was at the car, picked the nearest large item, a coffee table. He tucked it under his arm, heart racing all the while. He wanted nothing more than to run away like a coward.

Darcy let out a low whistle.

“Nice. Gotta get me some of that.” At his slightly startled look, she giggled. “I meant the serum. Can you imagine? Super Darcy. Fighting bad guys, defending Earth. Do you guys get an Avengers Discount at the Ben & Jerry’s in town?”

He shook his head. His soulmate sure did go a mile a minute.

“Can’t win ‘em all I guess,” she said, and signaled him to follow her.

“Not a talker, are ya?” Darcy prompted, once they were in the elevator.

Bucky shrugged. He concentrated on gripping the unwieldy table under his arm and keeping his head down. It didn’t help him not feel her presence next to him. She was standing close, seemingly uncaring that she was inches away from the metal arm that killed so many. He had the urge to steal glances of her, this woman who the fates had somehow decided was his perfect other. He grit his teeth. He was not going to reveal himself and ruin another person’s life, he promised himself.

“It’s cool,” she continued breezily, interrupting his dark thoughts. “I can talk enough for the both of us as anyone who knows me will tell you.”

He smiled a bit at that, unable to help himself. She grinned back, all big blue eyes and a little gap in her front teeth, and there he went, feeling all warm inside again.

When they got to her room (two floors below his, he noted), he set the table down where she directed and looked around. It wasn’t that different from his place, just smaller. From what he could see they had the same open kitchen and living room plan, though it looked like she only had one bedroom. He supposed the crib could go in her and Thor’s room at first. Then when the kid got bigger maybe Stark would move them to a two-room. He shot a surreptitious glance at Darcy’s stomach. She wasn’t even showing yet, so she had time.

The movers had already set boxes down and Darcy opened the one near the couch, peeling away the tape and crumpling it into a little ball.

“Well, hey, let me repay you for the assist,” Darcy began cheerfully. She turned from the sofa where she’d unboxed a teal pillow. “You wanna get a coffee with me sometime?”

He jerked his head up only to be met with a hopeful look on her face.

He liked her, he decided, this Darcy. In the small amount of time he’d known her she was sweet and funny. She was a looker, too. A woman who, back in the day, he would be asking to coffee. Or dinner. Or dancing. Or anything she wanted, really.

But he just couldn’t do it.

“We don’t have to! That’s okay, too,” she continued, when he kept his mouth shut. “Um, thanks anyways. I guess I’ll see you around?”

Bucky nodded and made a hasty retreat.

In the elevator, he jabbed the button to his floor, then sagged against the wall.

Sunday:

On Sunday, they were sent out to West Virginia, and some asshole from AIM threw a grenade at him.

It was really just in his generational direction because they’d had these guys on the ropes. Confronted with some Avengers, they were flinging everything at the team with desperation.

Next to him, Wilson was too busy returning fire to the guys in a Jeep to realize the potential for both of them to be blown to smithereens. Bucky yanked him down behind cover by the back of his wingsuit in time for the grenade to go off with a ‘boom’ that rattled his teeth.

He snarled out a curse.

“Easy on the wings!” Sam exclaimed.

“You’re welcome,” he drawled, as rubble and dirt rained around them.

When it was over, they began search and rescue. Steve and Tony lifted concrete pillars where it was safe to do so, and Sam helped to pry injured civilians from the wreckage.

One of them, a man in the tattered remains of a business suit was staring happily at the redheaded EMT holding up the foot of his stretcher.

“I just met my soulmate!!” came his merry shout. “He’s so handsome,” he added, even as his eyes unfocused. “Oh geez, I gotta call my parents…”

His soulmate, for his part, was blushing underneath a spray of freckles. “Let’s get you checked for concussions first, sir.”

“’Sir’,” business guy repeated, a wobbly grin still on his face. “We’re gonna get married and he’s calling me ‘sir’!” he laughed, and the EMT/soulmate rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Hey, Cap, you’re invited to our wedding! Avengers, you’re all invited!”

Frowning, Bucky scratched absently at the script on his hip.

Monday:

If he was to guess how his day was going to go, being under Darcy’s sink wasn’t even in the top 200 options.

One moment, he was headed up from the cafeteria with his newest soda concoction in hand (the neat machine at Stark’s place provided almost limitless combinations of syrups and soda. Today’s experiment was raspberry vanilla Fanta) and the next he nearly slammed into the little brunette scientist who was rounding the corner in a huff.

The angry crease in her brow dissipated when she sighted him.

“Oh, thank goodness! Please tell me you’re handy with a sink!”

It took a moment for his brain to catch up. He wasn’t even prepared to see her today. In fact, he’d been very determinedly avoiding the places he thought she’d be.

Still, he thought he was generally handy around the home. It wasn’t like they could afford repairmen or rely on their idiot super growing up, so it was generally up to him and Steve to figure it out. He nodded.

“My ring fell off while washing the dishes, and Tony won’t let me take the pipes apart to look for it. It’s actually in my contract that I can’t mess with the plumbing and electrical in my unit. Can you believe – Anyways, he’s like, weirdly possessive right?” She rolled her eyes. “But if you do it, I’m technically in the clear. Tony said he would, but I’ve been waiting for him all day and he’s still not finished in his workshop.”

He crooked his fingers and moved his wrist back and forth. A wrench? He mimed.

Darcy visibly deflated.

“No. Damn.”

It wasn’t a problem. He thew away the soda in the nearest trash can then motioned for Darcy to follow. They made their way down the hall to the door marked “Janitor’s Closet/Utilities”. The door was locked of course. He supposed Stark could check the security footage, but he figured he’d take the chance. In any case, the billionaire could bill him, he thought.

She asked excitedly, “Ooh, is this a shenanigan? I love shenanigans!”

He put his index finger to his lips. She zipped them, grinning back and pretending to throw away the key.

He gripped the doorknob and in one motion, crushed it and pulled it free from the door in a shower of little splinters. They found the toolbox next to a broom and a stack of paper towels.

“So… the no-talking thing,” Darcy started when they got back to her place. She rocked back on her heels. “That’s just gonna be a thing with you, huh?”

He shrugged. Then pointed at her kitchen sink.

Darcy let out a resigned sigh. “Yeah, okay,” she responded. “That’s the sink.”

It only took a moment for him to set a bucket underneath it, and turn the water supply off. When he upended the p-trap, a ring fell out of it. After putting everything together again, and turning the water back on, he gave it a quick rinse.

He thought he’d be fishing out some fancy Asgardian engagement ring, but it was a little silver band with a smooth round stone that felt like plastic, of all things.

“You rescued my moodring!” Darcy exclaimed, taking it from him and slipping it onto the pointer finger of her right hand.

His estimation of Thor was decreasing. The evening after he and Darcy moved in, the blond took off again. Sam mentioned that supposedly he had something important off-planet to tend to. What could be more important than his pregnant partner, Bucky didn’t know. And now there wasn’t even a ring on Darcy’s finger? 

Bucky wondered if perhaps Thor did ask and Darcy said ‘no’. He knew that these days marriage wasn’t automatically on the table if you got a girl in the family way – but what if she refused for another reason? A soulmate reason? That panicky feeling welled up in him again but it was also tinged with something that felt a lot like hope. He tamped that down, too, and fast.

His face must have been telegraphing quite the look because Darcy caught it.

“I know it’s not much to go through so much trouble for, but it was my mom’s.” She held out her hand to show him the violet color of the stone. “Right now it says I’m happy and relaxed. Supposedly. But it also looked like this when Thor tried to drive on I-95 during rush hour, so.”

He snorted at the image she conjured up, wiping his hands on the kitchen towel that she handed him.

“You laugh but have you ever seen an alien prince get flipped off by a soccer mom in a Honda Odyssey?”

He did laugh at that, and she joined him.

When she caught her breath she ventured, “Since I’ve got you doing chores around the house, now can I buy you a coffee?”

Bucky stood and handed her back the towel. He inclined his head in thanks but gave her a sloppy salute then made his way to the door.

“We’ll have that coffee one day, Barnes! You’ll see!” she called out after him, and he let her friendly voice wash over him. When he got back to his room, he realized that he’d been smiling the entire way.

Tuesday:

He was reading in the common room and sipping his cherry Mr. Pibb (not a winner, he’d try Vanilla Coke next time) when she casually slipped into the seat across from his.

He put down his copy of Lord of the Rings and raised his brows in greeting.

“Hey,” Darcy said, and placed a greasy paper bag and a near-overflowing cup on the table. She licked what looked like chocolate from the side of her pinky finger and he had to busy himself with the bookmark for a moment. The scent of fried food wafted from the bag as she opened it and placed an enormous container of French fries on the table.

“Ohhh, man, I’ve been looking forward to this all day,” she groaned, and stared at her food with an avidness that rivaled the look Dum Dum gave to a crate of wine they’d found hidden in a French farmhouse. Pink tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth, she took the plastic lid off the cup and immediately dipped a French fry into it. “Hey, man, I know that look! Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it!”

She ate her French fry/milkshake concoction with a satisfied hum.

“Want some?” she asked.

Vaguely, Bucky remembered his ma only wanting canned pears sprinkled with a pinch of salt when she was pregnant with Becca. He wasn’t about to get in the way of a pregnant lady and her strange food cravings, so he shook his head.

“It’s seriously so good, I promise,” Darcy insisted and waved couple fries at him in invitation.

He knew he wasn’t gonna win this one (does anyone ever against Darcy Lewis, he wondered) so he took the fries and dutifully dipped them in the dessert.

And it was good. The fries were still warm and salty and the sweet milkshake, ice cold. The contrast was weirdly delicious, and he gratefully took some more from the carton when she pushed it to the middle of the table.

“Told ya. I’m always right about junk food. So,” Darcy glanced at his worn-out paperback. “The best characters are Merry and Pippin, right? Blink if you agree.”

Wednesday:

Darcy somehow convinced him to go to IKEA with her. He had to look it up on his phone, but it was a furniture store and he figured he could help carry a changing table or something. Before they left, he even grabbed a measuring tape just in case.

Turned out she didn’t need a changing table, but his opinion on the Strandmon or the Ekolsund chair. They agreed the Ekolsund was best because it was cushier and reclined. And it was pink.

They wandered among the mock-ups of real living spaces, and browsed fake kitchens that were cleanly modern and cozy farmhouse, and everything in between.

He felt like he’d spent less time with HYDRA than in the Swedish labyrinth - which was what he was trying to convey to Darcy when she let out a gasp.

“Bucky. I’ve got to have this!” She picked up something fuzzy and round from a bin and hugged it. It was a giant plush shark.

“I can’t pronounce the name.” She examined the tag, turning it over. She stared into its beady plastic eyes. “What should we name you?”

We??? Bucky thought.

“How about…Gill-bert?”

He shook his head, smiling a little.

“Jaw-son?”

Awful. No, again.

“Tony Shark!”

He snorted.

“That’s the one,” Darcy said, with a decisive nod. She led the way to the checkout lines and tucked the plush shark under his arm.

And even though there was a café right near the exit, she didn’t ask to get coffee again.

(He tried not to think about it.)

Thursday:

He was lifting weights in the gym with Clint when Darcy swanned in wearing a workout outfit that had his jaw on the floor. Clint had to nudge his foot with his own so he could pull himself together. She looked a little startled at his presence too, and it was a couple seconds until she waved hello at him and started on one of the treadmills set across from them.

He was very aware that he was shirtless and silently agonized over whether to put his shirt back on. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable - hell, sometimes he didn’t want to look at the arm, new Wakandan tech or not. His skin prickled with unease.

He’d never been more interested in spotting Clint and properly racking weights in his life.

After a while, Darcy climbed off the machine breathless and pink-cheeked.

“Well, Sarge, I’m gonna tap out. Thanks for the view, though,” she said, winking. He nearly choked on his own spit.

Friday:

Everything was tangled up in his head (even more so than usual) and he mostly wanted to be left alone to sulk. Or break things.

He settled for making himself a ridiculously enormous sandwich from the contents of Steve’s fridge.

He had ham, bacon, deli chicken, two kinds of cheese, tomatoes, greens, and various sauces between two slices of thick sourdough. He hoped that the resulting food coma would help him forget that his soulmate was merely two floors below him and she was having a baby and she was seeing his teammate.

Of course, that’s when Sam walked in.

“That had better not be my Swiss Gruyère –” Sam spotted the pile of crumpled plastic on the kitchen island. “Damn it, Barnes!”

Sam had Steve’s ‘On your left’ inscribed on his bicep, and it peeked out from the sleeve of his t-shirt as he threw away the cheese wrapper. Bucky grunted out a noise of annoyance. He was not in the mood to be reminded of any more soulmate nonsense.

Sam rolled his eyes in response, used to Bucky’s moods by now, and dropped his keys on the counter. He rummaged around the (now depleted) fridge and came up with a container of yogurt.

“You gonna unhinge your jaw like a snake to eat that thing?” Sam pointed at Bucky’s concoction with his yogurt spoon.

Before Bucky could answer, there was a knock at the door.

Sam opened it to Darcy, and Bucky’s stomach sank a little even as his heart raced. The woman was hell on his vitals.

“Hey, Lewis, what’s up?”

“I’m here to take your – oh! Hi, Bucky,” Darcy greeted, when she sighted him behind Sam.

He waved.

“Gents, I’m here to take pizza toppings suggestions for Tony’s shindig on Saturday.”

“Tony wanted pizza?”

“No, way,” Darcy laughed. “Tony wanted to fly in the chef from Le Cirque. Nat and I wanted pizza.”

“Oh, okay.” Sam paused, thinking. “Pepperoni, sausage… Barnes, what do you think?” Sam turned to query at him.

Bucky gave a thumbs up.

“Guess we’re not using our words today,” Sam said.

“It’s fine,” she replied with a tight-lipped smile and a shrug. She typed into her phone, then slipped it into her jeans pocket. “Got it. Tomorrow at 8. Be there or square.”

“Hey, what’s with you and Lewis?” Sam asked once he shut the door.

Bucky had lost his appetite and now moved over to slump on Sam and Steve’s couch.

“What about Lewis?” Bucky replied, tersely.

“You didn’t talk to her at all,” Sam explained as he was zeroing on the abandoned sandwich. “What’s with the silent treatment, Robocop?”

Bucky watched as Sam assiduously picked out the wilted iceberg lettuce and scraped off the mustard with the back of a butter knife.

He lifted one shoulder casually, hoping that Sam would get the hint.

He didn’t.

“You don’t like her, or something?” 

“She’s nice,” Bucky muttered.

“So.”

“So.” Bucky let out a long breath. “She’s my soulmate.”

A slice of tomato fell out of the sandwich that was halfway to Sam’s mouth with a ‘plop’. “No shit, really?!”

“Yeah.”

Sam grinned. “That’s great, man. But why are you moping around here instead of, I don’t know, inviting her to a sock hop or something?”

Bucky said nothing.

“What’s the problem,” inquired Sam. “You can’t talk to her?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“She’s…with someone else.”

There was only shocked silence until Sam exhaled a soft, “Oh. Oh, shit. I’m sorry.”

Haltingly, Bucky continued, “I – I don’t wanna ruin it between them.”

“Does she even know you’re her – “

“No.”

“And you’ve never said her words…”

He shook his head.

“You’re not gonna say her words. Ever?”

“Nope.”

“Dude.”

“…I know.”

“Bucky –”

“Let it go, Sam,” Bucky warned, in a near growl.

The ex-assassin lay down fully on the couch, wondering just how long he could go without speaking to Darcy. Maybe he could move out. The thought of Steve’s reaction when he’d tell him gave him pause. And there was something to Tony’s desire that they all be under one roof.

Steve and Tony made this team, fashioned something of a family out of a ragtag group of misfits and held them together with bits of old string and sheer force of will. He’d nearly destroyed it once before, but he’ll be damned if he does it again.

But this woman. Even if she wasn’t his soulmate, he’d have a hard time getting her out of his head.

“You think there’s something wrong with me?” Bucky words were muffled by the couch cushions he pressed his face into.

Sam didn’t miss a beat. “You want that list alphabetical or chronological?”

Saturday:

The party was well under way on the recreation floor when Bucky finally made his way in, wheedled by numerous texts from Steve and Sam. There was lively music playing from a sound system somewhere but the laughter and chatter was so loud it nearly drowned it out. A lavish display of food was laid out along the wall along with several open pizza boxes as Darcy promised.  

Tony had situated himself behind the bar and was pouring something purple into the martini glass Pepper was holding.

Also standing at the bar was Darcy. Wearing a deep red dress and matching lipstick, she was hard to miss. She was laughing at something Pepper was saying, brushing a tumble of shiny hair over her shoulder.

And she was going for the bottle of beer set in front of her.

What was she doing?!

He strode over there, ignoring Steve and Sam’s greetings from across the room.

Darcy’s expression morphed from surprise to confusion at the sudden intrusion on her conversation.

“Uh, hello, how are you?” Darcy said sarcastically at his abrupt appearance.

He moved the bottle away from her reach.

“What the hell?” she demanded and snatched it back.

He shook his head and motioned significantly to the bottle.

“Dude, what is your deal right now?!”

The words bubbled out of him before he could stop them and in slow motion, he watched himself ruin everything.

“You’re pregnant!” he exclaimed, much, much louder than he expected from himself

Darcy’s eyes widened, and her mouth formed a perfect ‘o’.

She said nothing for what felt like ages, then, “Those are my – are you –” She slammed her bottle down on the table so hard that the liquid foamed and bubbled from the top. “Bucky, what the fuck?!”

“I’m – I’m sorry, I didn’t mean –” He scrubbed his hand roughly over his face, grimacing. How did everything get so messed up so quickly?

“Kid, are you -?” Tony’s confused voice drifted over to them.

Without tearing her glare away from Bucky, Darcy answered, “No, I’m not pregnant!”

“What? Tony said that you are!” Bucky said in a more accusatory tone than he’d intended.

“I did not!” Tony objected. “I said Foster was!”

“Who’s Foster?” Bucky eyes ping-ponged back and forth between a very pissed off Darcy and a very confused Stark.  What the hell was happening? He felt like he’d walked into the middle of a play and he didn’t know his lines.

“Jane Foster is my friend and she’s the one who’s pregnant!”

“You – you’re not pregnant?”

“Do I look pregnant?!” Darcy gestured at herself, eyes flashing.

Well, Bucky was over 100 years old and he’d spent most of it doing horrible things he barely knew about, but he did know to keep his damn mouth shut at that one.

The whole car crash of a conversation had brought the party to a halt. Steve was grimacing and Sam was hiding behind his hand, peeking out through his fingers. Even Natasha was pulling a face like she’d bit into a lemon.

Tony had come around to the other side of the bar, running a hand at the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Ah, shit. I think I know what happened. Hey, you know like in sitcoms when – ow! Don’t pinch, Lewis, who taught you manners?!”

Darcy scowled impatiently at Stark and he was relieved to out of the line of fire at least temporarily.

“So…” Stark started. “I sort of said that Thor was moving in with his pregnant, astrophysicist girlfriend…”

“And I’m an astrophysicist and a girl. But not the right girl,” Darcy finished for him. She threw her hands in the air. “Oh for the love of -!”

Bucky was beginning to get gist of it. And the gist of it, unfortunately, was that he was a mighty idiot.

Shoulders slumped, he said to Darcy, “Doll, I’m so sorry –”

“Oh no you don’t,” she interrupted. “We are not having this conversation in front of Superhero NSYNC!”

“The office down the hall is unlocked,” Pepper supplied, gently.

Darcy nodded her thanks, then wrapped her hand around his metal wrist and pulled him along.

He sent over panicked look at Steve and Sam who both made shooing motions at him.

God, they were so annoying when they teamed up.

Once in the office, Darcy slammed the door shut with such finality that Bucky tried not to wince.

Bucky thought his spitfire of a soulmate would (deservedly) start in on him again but there was only silence. The fluorescent bulbs hummed and there were the distorted sounds of the party as it started up again.

He struggled for something to say, fully prepared to start groveling, but Darcy beat him to it.

“Alright, let’s see it,” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest and giving him an irritated look.

He blinked.

“Your soulmark?” she clarified.

“Right, okay –” His fingers went to the metal clasp of his belt buckle.

“Shit! Wait, it’s not on your ass or something is it, ‘cause –”

“Darcy, it’s on my hip.”

“Oh. Alright then.” She waved at him to go on.

He took a readying breath then undid his belt and untucked his shirt. When he lifted it slightly, and pulled down the top of his jeans, she leaned down slightly to examine her swoopy handwriting on his hip.

She let out a huff.

“I can’t believe I said that you. I can’t believe that’s your soulmark, oh my god. I can’t believe my soulmark is ‘You’re pregnant!’” Darcy continued. “Holy shit, I thought you’d be my gynecologist or something! Do you know how awkward that made my yearly checkups?”

Bucky grimaced, pinching the bridge of his nose. “God, I am so sorry.”

“You suck.”

“I know.” He licked his lips nervously, then took a chance on something he’d been curious about for longer than he’d like to admit. “Can I see yours?”

Her cheeks pinked.

“It’s not on your ass, is it?” he asked.

“What?! No! It’s – well, I hope I don’t offend your delicate old-timey sensibilities but here goes.” Darcy drew up the hem of her dress and his couldn’t help but get a little wide-eyed. The maroon fabric of the skirt got shorter and shorter as she pulled it up and when he saw the dark lacy top of her thigh-high stockings against the pale skin of her thigh, his mouth became drier than the Sahara Desert.

Yeah, the soulmark was definitely not platonic.

There, under the black lace he could see his own scrawl of ‘You’re pregnant!’ He stared at it for a millisecond and an eon until Darcy flipped the hem of her skirt over again. He blinked a few times to get his brain back on track.

“Wow,” he remarked, sounding strangled.

“Yep,” she said. She narrowed her eyes at him. “So you can talk.”

Bucky nodded. Old habits died hard. He cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

“But not to me?”

“I thought – I couldn’t. I thought you were with Thor. And I didn’t want to mess up the team. Again.”

“So you thought that if you never spoke my words…”

Chagrined, he answered, “That was the plan, yeah.”

“Bucky, your plans are shit,” she declared, but with surprising gentleness. She let out an exasperated breath. “I mean, what were you going to do, not talk to me for the rest of your life?” Her voice quavered, and his chest tightened at it. “You can’t…make that decision for both of us!”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please believe me, Darcy, I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Darcy barreled on. “And to think I felt so guilty that – “

His heart in his throat, he rasped, “That what?”

“That I liked you. I liked spending time with you and I felt kinda bad, y’know? I was supposed to be waiting around for this supposed doctor soulmate who my mom was so excited about.” She shrugged and added, “Well, at least you’re not a doctor. I heard the hours are terrible.”

A corner of his mouth twisted up.

“I think the Avengers hours are worse, sadly.” Then he realized what he’d just implied. “I mean, that is, if you even want –” He ducked his head. This strange conversation was the most he’d ever spoken to Darcy and he was already messing things up.

“Just…don’t ever do something like that again, Bucky Barnes. I will steal all the laces from your shoes, I will open a portal and send you to Nilfheim –”

“Can you do that?” he asked, not even sure what Nilfheim was.

“No, but I can try! If we’re gonna do this thing and be soulmates –” she cut herself off. Her mouth opened then closed. “Oh. You’re my soulmate,” she said shakily, like the realization suddenly hit her in the gut, and yeah, he knew the feeling.

She crossed her arms, then put her hands on her hips like she wasn’t sure what to do with them. She gathered her hair in a ponytail and began fanning herself with her hand.

“It’s hot in here, right?”

Bucky’s quick scan of the room led him to what he was looking for. He wheeled over the nearest office chair, thankful to have something to do for her.

“Here, you’ll be alright,” he soothed. “Just sit down for a sec.”

“Whoa,” she said, once she sat down heavily. She took a couple breaths, closing her eyes for a moment. “No, I’m okay. Wow. Okay. You must think I’m nuts. Yelling at you then freaking out like this.”

“It was kinda like that for me, too,” he reassured her, with a weak smile and a shrug. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “The…‘freaking out’,” he clarified, trying out the phrase on his tongue.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ve just had a week to get used it.”

She gave a tight-lipped smile, nodding.

Darcy stood, and her movement rolled the chair back to the desk with a ‘thunk’. Then she looked up shyly at him, biting her lip.

“Um. Can I give you a hug?” She fiddled with an earring and looked at him with big, blue eyes. “I know this is totally weird right now. I just – It just hit me that I’ve finally met my soulmate and that’s really, really nice…”

He swooped in and gently wrapped his arms around her waist before she could finish, or frankly, change her mind. He was happy to have her too, despite how much he’d fouled things up. When her arms came around him, he couldn’t help but let out a happy breath. She was warm and solid a, and she was his soulmate after all.

“You’re not off the hook yet, you know,” Darcy murmured into the fabric of his shirt.

“Darcy, whatever you decide I’ll respect.”

She pulled back to look up at him, her eyes bright. “Bucky –”

“No, listen,” he pleaded, voice low, eyes searching hers. “I liked being with you too, this week. I’m happy I found you, okay? Anything else, that’s the cherry on top.”

In one swift motion, she leaned up and kissed him on the corner of his mouth. After she pulled back, he stared for a moment, unbelieving. The warmth of her lips felt like a brand even though it only lasted a second. Flushing, he drew her to him again and when she didn’t push him away, curled around her and tucked his nose against the pulse of her neck. The scent of her was all around him – the sweet florals of her hair and the clean, comforting scent of warm skin.

“Dammit, Bucky, I’m trying to be pissed at you here,” she laughed, as her fingers twitched against his back.

“I ain’t stoppin’ you, gorgeous,” he mumbled into her neck, before returning her favor by dotting one little kiss to the space below her ear.

He could feel her little shiver against his body, her breath puffing warm against his neck.

He pulled back, his eyes drawn to her lovely red lips.

“You should kiss me now,” she said, a soft smile on her face.

So, he did.

He pressed his lips to hers and held back a groan at the feeling of her nails scratching lightly at the nape of his neck. He cradled her face in his hands and felt her sigh as her mouth opened slightly under his. He kissed her slow and languorous, like they’d had all the time in the world. And he hoped they did, because if she let him, he intended to make up for saddling her with that ridiculous soulmark for the rest of his life.

She finally pulled away with a soft gasp. He’d kissed her lipstick away, so her lips were plump and pink, and her cheeks were rosy. He’d never seen a prettier sight. She pressed her cheek into the metal palm of his left hand.

His thumb traced idle patterns over the silky skin of her cheek. “Darcy.”

“Hmm?”

And something in him clenched pleasantly at her mussed hair, the dreamy haze in her eyes.

He grinned.

“Wanna get that coffee?”