Logs:Barnes and Pryde

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Barnes and Pryde
Dramatis Personae

Barnes, Pryde

2015-Present


'

Location

somewhere else


Congregation Beth Elohim; Brooklyn, NYC - August 2015

The oneg room is no different than any other Saturday morning, save for one new face awkwardly following one of the oldest congregation members around the room. Abigail Barnes has to rely on a walker as she makes her way from person to person to talk, but her steps are steady. They even pick up a little once she starts for a certain table. Not far behind her, dressed and styled in a way that might now be called *vintage*, Bucky Barnes looks ready to catch her if she falls with vaguely pained expression on his face.

"Katherine!" Abigail says cheerfully. "I have someone I'd like to introduce you to. Do you mind if we sit?"

The young woman sitting at this round table, dressed in her Shabbos finest, looks up with furrowed brows. Her face brightens at the sight of Abby, moves her tallis bag and bentscher off of the seat next to her. “Nu, of course! Sit.” Her eyes roll over the young man next to her, sticks her hand out. Brows furrow again, a glint of recognition in her eyes.“Gut Shabbos, Mr…?”

"Barnes," he answers, his smile polite and grip careful when he shakes her hand. "Call me Bucky." He glances to Abigail, who is in the process of taking a seat and making herself comfortable. "Abby tells me you're the gal to ask about phones."

Central Library; Brooklyn, NYC - August 2015

“Okay, now drag the mouse over to here-” Kate points at the little paper airplane icon, “-and click on the left mouse button.” Her pupil obliges, and almost immediately there is a soft buzzing noise. Smiling, Kate pulls out her phone, waggles it in front of Bucky’s face with the email open. “Boom. Electronic letter delivered.”

"Huh." Bucky looks between the phone screen and the screen of the laptop in front of him. "That's... quite a bit faster than the letters I used to send." A soft smile begins to spread across his face, holding some pride. "So if I wanna send something to Abby..."

Evolve Cafe; Manhattan, NYC - March 2016

Kate picks at the remnants of her breakfast, potatoes swirling up the remnants of some hollandaise on the corner of the plate. “So. Yeah. Too long, didn’t read, I walk through walls, and Evolve has the best coffee.” She looks up, catching Bucky’s look, and her own face melts with concern. “You okay, Buck?”

"I'm fine. We're fine," Bucky reassures Kate through a contemplative frown, hands wrapped around his mug. He glances around the cafe and grins wryly when his gaze returns to her. "Just seems like everytime I get used to the future, something else surprises me."

Kate's Apartment; Brooklyn, NYC - May 2016

"I want to pick the other fighters next time," Bucky grumbles.

“The game chooses the other fighters, you nudnik,” Kate says goodnaturedly, setting the Gamecube controller down next to an empty pizza box. She slumps back into the couch, rolls her head sideways to look at Bucky with a little grin. “Chin up, soldier, you’ll win eventually.” Her eyes flit to his chin, then his lips, with a slight furrow of the brow.

"Something tells me it won't be while I'm going against you," he answers with a little grin of his own. It fades some with surprise at Kate's sudden regard, a slight lift of eyebrows and spark of attraction replacing it. A pregnant pause before he leans forward, gently hooking a finger under Kate's chin before pressing his lips to hers.

Kate’s cheeks flush bright red, eyes fluttering closed then wide open again. It’s a moment before she pulls away, a moment where she does return the kiss, lightly and closed mouthed. “Um.” Pulls at a curl. “Sorry, I’m not- that was-“ she trails off, looks at Bucky with a curious look. “Was that your first kiss since ‘41?”

Bucky's small disappointed frown breaks apart with a laugh, bright and sudden. "Ha ha," he says, knocking his hand against her shoulder. "For your information, it was '44. Let's put in the party game, I actually win that one sometimes."

Washington Cemetery; Brooklyn, NYC - October 2017

The sun has nearly set, leaving Washington Cemetery covered in long shadows and a chill. Two lone figures remain by the cemetery's latest headstone, a number of stones already placed atop it. Bucky has long stopped glancing around in search of any late mourners. Hands in the pocket of his pea coat, he instead stares down at the name of his youngest sister and the name of their parents beside her.

Kate fidgets with her necklace as she leans against Bucky’s arm, shivering faintly despite her big puffy coat. “We can give him another ten minutes,” she says, less reassuringly than she had hoped to sound.

Bucky shakes his head and leans back into her. After a quiet moment, he kneels down and comes back up with two stones in his hands. One is given to Kate, while the other is placed on top of Abigail's headstone. "No, you're getting cold. And we've waited long enough."

Kate presses her lips together. She doesn’t reply - instead just places the stone next to the others with a resigned sigh.

Commodore Barry Park; Brooklyn, NYC - June 2018

“Buck, I need to know you aren’t abandoning us. Mutants. Because of this shit. Everyone else is.”

"Don't call me that!" Bucky snaps, looking surprised by his own reaction for only a second before he shakes his head. "I don't care if Holland did it on purpose or not, I care that Steve is dead!" He scrubs a hand over his face, fingers pressing into his eyes. "I don't know what I'm doing with myself in the next five minutes, Kate. Don't ask me what I'm doing about 'this.' I don't have an answer for you right now."

Now Kate actually steps back, shock in her eyes. “Jesus.” Her face is set into a hard, indecipherable line. “I’m sorry for your loss, Bu- James.” Her fists tighten. “But I can’t -- I can’t do this. We’re at -- fuck, this is war now.”

When James' hand drops back down to his side, he hasn't exactly gained his composure. His anger has only drained to leave him looking more exhausted than before. "What do you know about war, Kate?"

Upstate New York - November 2018

Kate stares into the truck stop bathroom mirror, sighing as she double checks her setup. Pulls some dirt off her black sweater, pulls the belt tighter around her waist. Pats down the pockets on these black military pants, making sure everything is where it should be. “Right,” she whispers to her reflection, grabbing and clutching onto some stolen car keys. Holds her hand to its image, steps through it, and she’s gone.

--

In a motel room not too far away, Barnes checks his weapons one last time. Knives slide into holsters in his boot, on his belt, on his arm. Two pistols go into holsters on his side, before he pulls on a dark jacket and adjusts the leg of his pants to hide it all. A repurposed pair of motorcycle gloves are the final thing he puts on, the steel plating over the knuckles exposed to air. The room gets one last check for anything out of place, before he grabs a bag by the door and walks out.

DHS Service Processing Center; Upstate New York - November 2018

Barnes curses vehemently as he rounds the corner, skidding to a halt at the sight of the sentinels already swivelling to face him. The metallic skittering footsteps of more of the robot guards follow at his six. He's able to raise his pistol and take out two of the cameras on the sentinels, before answering fire forces him to duck back behind the corner.

“The hell are you doing, dumbass?” Kate says, breathing heavily behind the same corner. “You ruined my whole operation!” There are sentinels scurrying from the other side too - these shooting suppressor darts. Kate grabs Barnes by the wrist. “Deep breath. Don’t let go.” And they are sinking into darkness, Kate swimming through solid earthy black and dragging Barnes behind her. When they emerge, they are on the other side of the fence, out of range. She lets go and sucks in a deep, desperate breath.

On his hands and knees in the dirt, Barnes' gasping breaths have devolved into a short coughing fit. "Running into you wasn't exactly in my plan either," he wheezes when able, kneeling back on his knees. "What the fuck did you just do?"

“Walked through a wall. Well. The ground. It’s a very thick wall.” Kate’s breathing is returning to normal quickly. “I don’t like doing that, but someone had to set off the alarms, didn’t he?” A glare, but it quickly softens into concern. “I didn’t expect -- to see you out here.”

"Tech was more advanced than I was prepared for," Barnes admits, meeting her gaze with some chagrin. Tries for a roguish grin a moment after. "I didn't know you'd be here. But I'm glad you were."

Green Mountain National Forest; Vermont - April 2019

"Remember, squeeze the trigger, don't pull it." Barnes reaches out to move one of Kate's elbows slightly up, taps at her heel with his toe. "Lean forward a bit more, it'll help with recoil when you fire for real." He sounds naturally bossy, almost at ease in instruction.

“Lean forward a bit more and I’ll kick you in the nose,” Kate grumbles, but moves the errant heel quickly into a better position. She sucks in a deep breath, gun steady in her hand. One, two, three- she squeezes the trigger.

"Good. Better." Barnes nods approvingly, giving the closest thing he can give to a smile. "Now, keep doing that until you can breath naturally at the same time. Or you hate me, whichever comes first."

Service Canada Centre; Châteauguay, Quebec - July 2019

Rubbing at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, Barnes is scowling when he walks out of the office. Once his hand drops and he sees Kate, his expression eases, hand quickly lifting again in a thumbs up. "They're through," he says once he reaches her, before tossing an annoyed look back at the station. "The people inside have their heads up their asses, but they're through."

“Baruch HaShem.” A breath Kate did not realize she was holding is released in a rush, her face lighting up with joy. “Holy shit. Holy shit!“ She throws her arms around James’ neck, pulling herself up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek. A moment after she freezes, looking up into James’ eyes before tilting her head up towards him, one hand pulling his head toward her lips.

"If that's the reaction I'll always get, I can go back in and--" Barnes' eyes widen when Kitty pulls him down but close quickly enough when he kisses her back. One arm wraps around her waist to pull her up and closer with careful strength, his other hand sliding into her hair to cradle the back of her head.

This time when Kate pulls away there is only a little awkwardness on her face, only a faint flush of embarrassment in her otherwise pleased expression. She lands back on her heels, relaxes into James’ arms. “Wait, what were you saying?”

"Just that I can go back and argue some more," Barnes answers, grinning. He brushes a thumb over the color in her cheek. "But you sure make it hard to leave, kitten.”

Kate makes a face, laughs. “I’m not a cat, you weirdo,” but she’s already leaning forward to kiss him again.

Green Mountain National Forest; Vermont - September 2020

The truck is quiet now, filled just with the sound of soft breathing and rain on the top of the vehicle. In the truck bed, underneath a worse-for-wear camper shell, Kate rests her head on James’ chest. The sleeping mats and bags they keep for asylum seekers have been unfurled and spread around for insulation back here, one bag unzipped and pulled up like a blanket over Kate’s bare body.

Kate sighs. “Maybe we should retire,” she says quietly, drawing light circles on James’ chest. “After the next run. Start a maple syrup farm in Quebec.” Her voice is low and wistful. “I could learn French.”

With one arm around Kate's shoulders and the other behind his head, James stares up at the camper shell like he can see the cloudy sky beyond it. He doesn't immediately answer, but she can feel the thoughtful hum in his chest. "Pain in the ass language to learn. I'm not even sure I could teach you the right French," he does say, after a moment. "Do you think you could? Stop?"

Kate curls up closer, pulls the sleeping bag further up to cover her shoulders. “Of course not,” she answers eventually, cold lips brushing against his skin. “But it’s a nice dream.”

"It is." Sliding a hand down her back, James wraps both arms around her. "Maybe we can dream about somewhere a little warmer. I had enough of the cold when I was in actual France."

Safe House; Manhattan, NYC - November 2020

"That's it, I'm calling rank." Barnes snatches up the truck keys before Kate can grab them. "You need to stop. Just for today. Sleep. Eat something. Shower, if you can find one." He moves to place himself between Kate and the door with a gentle smile. "Sergeant's orders."

“There is no rank.” Kate scowls, waves her hand for the keys that Barnes is holding out of reach. She looks pale, dried blood caking her shirt, and winces as she reaches up. She gives up. “Fine, but it’s still working. Technically. If I go ask them for supplies.” Her arm drops. “Pick me up by dawn. With a bus. Not a van.”

"Sir, yes sir." After a short salute, Bucky tosses the keys back onto the wooden spool passing for a table. "Be safe, alright? I'll see you tomorrow. With a bus, not a van." Stepping forward, he places a hand on her waist, drops a kiss on her forehead and then mouth.

The press of her lips on his is light and soft. She breaks away, grabbing her pack and turning to head for the Tessiers. “I’ll try but,” she says as she starts to walk away. “That’s what you’re here for. To watch our backs.”