The November air in the Pacific-Northwest is crisp, smells like sugar and butter and punctuated by carnival music and the delighted shrieks of children.
Sharon pulls her coat tighter and checks her phone again. Bucky is running late.
Sharon and Bucky had shared a toe-curling kiss on the quinjet, following the resounding success of a mission hunting down some HYDRA lackeys.
And ever since, she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it.
(Friends kiss friends, right?” she asks Wanda later. “When it happens, in the heat of the moment?”
Wanda just shakes her head in pity. “You’re the one with the advanced degree in psychology. Figure it out.”
She hopes Natasha has better advice.)
So it’s comes as a shock when one day, Bucky had cornered her in the hallway between Hill’s office and the training deck. At first, he didn’t say anything at all, just stepped into her path, walking backwards as she slowed to a stop. Grinning, he pulled out a red velvet cupcake. “Go out on a date with me.”
“Wow, we’re skipping roses and heading straight to the cupcakes are we?” she’d asked, taking it into her hands. It was warm, fresh from the cafeteria oven.
“Noticed you skipped lunch. You work yourself to the bone Carter,” he’d said. Leaning in, he pointed to the cupcake and whispered, “Consider this a preview.”
Sharon snorted. “Am I to assume that our first date is at a bakery?”
Bucky’s grin turned wolfish. “Is that a yes, then?”
“I’ll text you the details soon Carter,” he promised, walking backwards again albeit in a different direction. Sharon’s not sure where he was headed.
It’s when she began to wonder how long she’s had feelings for this little shit. Was it before the kiss or after? Did the kiss trigger something that was always there or or did it just set off a need to be close to someone? The kiss had already changed things. They were going on a date now? Was this date going to change things?
Sharon put a stop to her questioning thoughts before she could bum herself out. Hopefully, the date would go pretty low key and they could still be friends. Friends that make out and probably do adult things on occasion.
Of course that’s when he suggested they go to the carnival in Portland for their first date.
Just then, her phone chimes in with a text from Sam.
Sorry, my boy’s running a bit late. Got held up a while in Ohio. ETA: 2 minutes, I hope.
She looks up to see Bucky jogging towards her, an apologetic grin on his face and two sticks of cotton candy in his hands. “I brought apology snacks,” he says, barely out of breath. “Sorry.”
“It was only ten minutes anyway,” she shrugs, biting into the sugary confection. “I’ve been stood up worse.”
“They’re assholes,” he declares as the two of them weave between the crowd. Sharon is painfully aware of the way their hands brush when they walk close together.
“Do you want to go on that ride?” he asks, pointing at a rickety looking rollercoaster, she’s sure is not up to code.
With a skeptic glance she hedges, “We’ll try some of the safer ones first before getting on that death trap. Yeah?”
Bucky lets out a full-bellied laugh. “What? Scared you’ll hurl?”
“How’s it going to look when I survive crumbling bridges and explosions only to die on that?” Her lip curls at the thought.
“Pretty unlucky Thirteen,” he teases, chuckling. A sly grin sneaks it’s way onto her face and Bucky notices.
“We’ll see who’s unlucky when you’ll lose half the games to me,” she challenges. “I’m going to kick your ass.” His jaw drops in mock offense.
“Maybe,” he argues. “But I won’t go easy on you.”
Laughing, she grabs his metal hand and leads him to the nearest stall. She's glad he can't feel how clammy her hand is.
(Sharon beats Bucky, seven to five.
She’s an absolute beast at the shooting games but she doesn’t mind losing to Bucky at the High-Striker because she gets to see him roll up his sleeves and watch his sinewy muscles tense as he strikes the hammer.
She’s a pretty shameless ogler.)
As it turns out, they do go on the rollercoaster. Thrice. Bucky whoops through the whole thing while Sharon, master spy, dissociates all three times.
They have their second kiss atop the Ferris Wheel. They’ve both got smears of hot sauce on their faces from the turkey legs. And yet, it’s weirdly romantic and Sharon would like to do it again and again.
By the end of the night, Bucky’s got his girlfriend hoisted on his back.
(They strike a compromise. Sharon carries all of the prizes they’ve won each other, Bucky carries her. He’s not sure he’s got the fair end of that deal.)
“Ready to go home sweetheart?” he asks, smiling up at her. She smiles back, cuddling him tighter.
This is slightly different, she thinks giddily. Good different. She kind of likes that he’s her boyfriend now. Not that she’ll ever admit that to him.
She spots a funhouse in her periphery and steers him towards that direction, pressing a chaste kiss to the shell of his ear.
She wants more of this, for as how long she can get it.