Pawn: Five
“You want me to call Tony?” Happy asked as he watched you size things up in the rearview.
“No. Bucky probably has guys nearby and I’d rather not start a turf war… Even if it would probably reduce my guest list nicely.”
Happy snorted in spite of himself and went to open your door, “That was dark, kid.”
“But true.”
“Good night, Happy,” you say, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek. You knew, without turning around that he’d melted, just a little. He always did. He was a softie where you and now Morgan were concerned.
“G’night, kid,” he said, getting back into the car, and hesitating for a moment before driving away.
_____________
“You got some nerve,” Bucky drawled, exhaling another cloud of smoke.
“About what, Barnes?” you sigh. Dealing with Jesse leaves you tired. And you can still hear the conversation echoing in your head. And you’d kill to blow your nose properly. Your head feels too full.
“About what?” he demanded incredulously, “The fuck do you mean about what?” He put out an arm to stop you, to make you face him as you go to walk past the doorman who’s holding the door for you.
Only to find himself held against the wall with a small caliber handgun under his chin. “Let’s get this straight now,” you his through your teeth, pressing your knee firmly against his crotch. Enough to hurt. “You talk to me like that again and Rumlow will be the least of your worries. You put hands on me like that again and I’ll make sure your mother finds your body with your dick in your mouth.”
Up close, now that he could see your face, he doesn’t miss that your eyes are red. Or that you sound like you’re getting a cold. It’s enough to make him put his hands up. “Easy,” he tried. “Let’s just talk.”
You snort bitterly but back off, straightening your blazer and nodding to the doorman who’d been about to call Tony.
“Talk. Sure,” you say, scooping up your hand bag and starting across the foyer, heels clacking on the marble.
“Nice place,” Bucky said, following and straightening his cuffs.
“It’s easier to coordinate security in a building Tony already owns,” you explain. Not bothering to add that you own your apartment. Because Tony decided that you earned it with a law degree.
“That’s fair,” Bucky said. He watched you discreetly and mentally adjusted his assessment of you. It was good to know you could handle yourself. And a firearm. Sure. He never heard the safety click off but. With as quick as you were, that was probably intentional. You didn’t want him dead. Yet. You just wanted him to understand, very clearly. And he did.
But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to test his luck.
He rested his hand lightly on the small of your back to guide you up the few steps to the elevator.
“Who’s the guy?” he asked as the doors shut.
“The driver or-”
“The bum,” Bucky said scowling.
“My biological father,” you say, stepping out into the hallway leading to your penthouse.
And Bucky stares after you for a second, having to hustle to keep from getting shut in the elevator.
“Why-”
“He’s going to jail,” you say, offering Bucky a drink with a broad gesture towards the bar along one wall.
“And?”
“And he would like to to make sure that doesn’t happen,” you sigh, throwing your handbag into a chair carelessly and sinking into a chair. One where Bucky can’t sit next to you.
“Are you going to help him?” Bucky asked, taking a sip of his drink.
“No.”
Bucky blinks at you for a second. He’d like to say something. But he can’t. Despite your straight back and calm voice. The indignities you threatened on his corpse. You look tired. And heartsore.
“Bad blood?” he asked.
“You could say that, I suppose.”
You don’t want to talk about Jesse. Or the wedding. Or to Bucky. All you want to do is sulk in a hot bath until you feel clean again. And maybe drink a bottle of wine. Or two. And then go spend an absurd amount of money on shoes. Couture shoes. The kind of shoes that would make that blonde, horse-faced bimbo absolutely green with envy. Because they were yours. And because you’d never have to fuck someone twice your age for a department store diamond and a Caribbean Cruise he was still paying for.
“Are we done here?” you ask, exhaling slowly.
“Y/n,” Bucky started, “I- I’m.”
“If you’re about to apologize, don’t,” you tell him. “And if you’re about to tell me to take his case, extra don’t.”
Bucky nodded and crossed the floor nearer to your chair, “Would you really make sure my mom finds my body with my cock in my mouth?”
“There’s only one way to find out,” you counter, eyes narrowing.
And Bucky smiled, taking your hand and kissing it, “Good night, Y/N.”
_______________
“She said what?”
Tony blinked at Rhodes who was grinning from ear to ear.
“And I quote,” Rhodes said chuckling, “You put your hands on me like that again, and I’ll make sure your mother finds your body with your dick in your mouth.”
“Jesus Christ,” Tony groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know if I should be proud of her or wash her mouth out with soap.”
“She’s 25,” Rhodey pointed out, “Washing her mouth out would probably be a bit of a trick.”
Tony sat back in his chair and looked over at Happy, “What’d that low life say?”
Happy shrugged eloquently, “She didn’t say. But she cried halfway home… Pretty sure he brought the wife and the crumb snatchers to try and make her feel bad for him.”
“I should have killed him when I had the chance,” Tony grumbled, carding his fingers through his hair.
“It’s not too late,” Rhodey pointed out. “Hell. The wife might be grateful.”
And all Tony could do was shake his head. He knew you. And he knew that even at your angriest. Even when you were so furious with Jesse you couldn’t breathe, you still had a space in your heart. One where the dad you wanted lived. The one you only got when hell got a little colder. One that you remembered from when you were too little to read his bad intentions.
And he knew better than to do anything. Because he knew that on some level, it would break your heart. And Tony would rather chew off his own arm than do that.
