Unexpected Arrivals for @musicdied

[worthallthis]

Bucky isn't expecting the face that shows up at his door. He's back in the stupid apartment after visiting Sam, mostly to collect his things while he looks for a new one that isn't being tracked by the government or gifted by Steve, and if he's expecting anyone, it's one of his neighbors-slash-spies (he may be being paranoid there, but he might not) seeing what he's doing since he hasn't been back here recently.

But instead there's a vaguely familiar heart-shaped face and button nose, with blonde hair and a stance that says she knows her way around a variety of weapons. He'd bet everything he owns that she's armed to the teeth beneath her slightly punkish outfit.

Does he know her? Where does he know her from? Or is he imagining things and she just looks like someone from his fucked up, jumbled memories?

"Uh, hi," he says, and runs a hand over his short and currently messy hair.

Comments

[musicdied]

He looks different. That's Yelena's first thought, though she knows it's not entirely right - he looks much the same as he had on the news after the incident with the ridiculously-named Flag Smashers, if perhaps less put together. He just doesn't look like B, because he isn't.

She knows that, and she's steeled herself for it, and the puzzled lack of recognition still hurts, a short, sharp pain in her chest. None of that shows in her expression. Her smile is quick and sunny, all girl-next-door ease for the benefit of anyone who might be watching.

"Hi," she says. "I have a problem, and I am hoping you can help. Can I come in?"

[worthallthis]

Bucky searches her face for a moment, but he can't really turn down people asking for help. He steps back, holding the door open for her. Either she knows exactly who he is, and she needs a particular kind of help he doesn't do anymore, or she knows exactly who he is and she's here to kill him.

There's a slight chance one of the non-agents in the neighborhood thought he could help with some other kind of problem, but it's not likely.

Either way, he'd rather deal with whatever it is inside rather than in the hallway, so: "Come on in."

[musicdied]

"Thanks." She lifts her hands as she steps inside. It isn't a promise that she's unarmed, but it is still the universal sign for 'I come in peace'. Her gaze sweeps what she can see of the apartment from the entryway, analyzing the layout, the exits, where any hidden weapons might be, all still habit.

"My name is Yelena. You probably don't remember me, but we have met before, when I was much smaller."

Does this version of B have any lingering affection for the Widows he'd trained? Does he remember that part of his life at all?

[worthallthis]

Honestly, the place looks pretty bare. He's already moved some of his few things out, including almost all the weapons. Everything left is on his person or packed in the duffel bag, hidden amidst the last of his clothes and linens. The TV is gone, the counch and piano remain.

The only other exits are windows, one of which leads to a fire escape. That one shows signs of heavy duty locks as a protective measure. So does the front door, for that matter.

He closes the door behind her, frowning as the name pings in his brain. Paired with the clue that she'd been "much smaller", it clicks and his eyes go wide. "'Lena?" Well, he remembers the nickname, so it's a fair bet there's some affection still. "I thought-- I didn't think you were still alive. Jesus."

[musicdied]

"I am full of surprises," she says, with a bittersweet little smile. "I survived the training, and I survived the missions, and I survived the fall of the Red Room. I will even tell you about some of it sometime, if you want. But I really do need your help."

[worthallthis]

"Yeah, yeah, of course. Whatever I can do." He might be reeling a little from the idea that some of them, some more of them, might be alive. But he's not going to turn away someone who wants help, and not to murder him. "Please. Sit down. I, uh, don't have anything in the place to offer you, I already packed up the cups and stuff...."

It's probably lucky there's still somewhere to sit.

[musicdied]

She pads over to glance briefly out the window before circling back to sit on one end of the couch, posture deceptively casual. "I am just glad I caught you before you moved out completely, and I had to track down a new address."

[worthallthis]

"Me, too," Bucky agrees, taking the other end of the couch. He sits more heavily, because he's still digesting and trying to get his feelings into an order that isn't just a wash of guilt for not looking for the girls. "There aren't any bugs in here," he adds, more practically. "I cleaned them all out again this morning. So you can speak freely if you're worried about that."

[musicdied]

Something like anger flickers across her face, quick enough that most people wouldn't have the chance to catch it. The former Winter Soldier might, even if this version doesn't know her at all. Keeping him under surveillance does make sense, in objective terms. It still makes her want to punch someone, all misdirected protective impulse.

But she nods, and asks, "How much do you know about O.X.E. Group?"