Bucky and Natasha judging the others please
Title: Russian JudgesRating: GSummary: Bucky doesn’t participate in gym time the way others do.
It took only a single workout cycle for Natasha to realize where Bucky was, and only another two days before she showed up in the rafters of the gymnasium, in the dark corner Bucky was watching from. She brought a bag of mixed nuts and two Cokes.
Down below, Tony was stretching, preparing for his biweekly sparring with Steve. It was part machismo and part masochism, but Natasha at least thought he was improving. Across the gym, Clint was doing gymnastics routines on the pommel horse, Sam was doing pull-ups, and Thor was bench-pressing special, super-dense weights, with Bruce pretending like he could actually do anything as a spotter if Thor dropped them.
"So," she said, seating herself on the girder and resting her arms on the bracing above it, as Bucky was. "Are you looking for our weak spots, or do you just like to be a part of things without actually being a part of things?"
Bucky glanced sidelong at her, then took a macadamia nut from the bag and ate it.
"What’s that?" she asked.
"I watch ‘em like the Olympics," he said. "And then I rate ‘em."
"Ooh. The Russian Judge," she said, laughing. He frowned. "Sorry, probably after your time. Russian judges are notoriously mean."
"Oh, I am too, that’s okay."
"So what are you grading them on?"
"Ten outta ten. Stark gets points for artistry and smartmouthin’ ‘cause god knows he ain’t gonna get points for much else outta the suit."
"Steve starts with a handicap, he’s gotta earn three points just to break even."
"Hell no. The judges are biased."
She smiled at him. “You handicap him because you like him?”
"I suppose. Oooh," she said, as Clint tried to do a one-handed handstand and crashed to the mats.
"Nine point two," Bucky said.
"Fallin’ down. Clint gets points for that, ‘cause he always gets back up again."
Clint did get back up again, leapt for the horse, slightly misjudged, and crashed into it.
"Six point five," Natasha said.
"What about Thor and Sam?"
"I judge Thor for never doing anything interesting," Bucky said. "Sam doesn’t get judged on account of I like him too much and also still owe him for rippin’ his wings off that one time."
"Well, I can judge him. I give him an eight point five."
Bucky studied Sam’s butt. “Little low.”
"Well, if he wore tighter pants, I wouldn’t have to mark him down."
Over in the sparring ring, Steve blocked a kick by Tony, grabbed his ankle, and flipped him two full rotations in the air before he landed.
"You know my legs are attached to me, right?" Tony yelled.
"Six point three," Bucky said. Natasha glanced at him. "Smartmouthin’. He can do better."
"What do you judge me on?" she asked, sipping her Coke.
"Grace, core strength, and how often you can make Steve blush," he said. "Also good aim and pretty hair."
She patted his shoulder. “Right answer. Ooooooh,” she added, wincing as Tony managed to dodge Steve at the last minute, sending Steve headlong into the wall.
"Judges give Rogers a ten for concussions, a low three for cornering," Bucky announced, and clicked his Coke against hers when she offered it.
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