Chapter Text
"Are you sure you're willing to do this?" Tony pried, looking back and forth between Emilia and Bucky. "If it's too soon for you to go back into the field, Emilia, I get it—"
"No—I just... why me? I betrayed you guys. How is Natasha to be suspended for longer than I've been?" Emilia argued, hand firm against the table.
"Because Natasha doesn't know the hydra files like you do. Like both of you do." Tony explained. "We saw all the information given to you in your memories. All of it was practically engraved in your head by the agents in the Red Room."
"You two can recognise any and every person working for Hydra like the back of your hand." Tony flicked his wrist, and the holographic screen behind him lit up. Bucky's gaze stayed firmly on Tony, trying his best to avoid Emilia.
He's been trying to avoid her for days now. She didn't want a relationship and he had to respect that. He would respect it by moving on. And he couldn't do that by being around her.
Emilia noticed his distance. Any person with eyes could notice. She understood it though, hence why she never asked about it.
Images flashed on the projection, photos from inside a Hydra base being displayed in sharp quality. Tony suddenly paused on an image of a projection of a small glass vial glowing faintly blue. Emilia recoiled at the realisation of what was in that vial.
"This," he said, pointing at the vial, "is Hydra's half-baked attempt at reinventing the Winter Soldier." Bucky lay his fist onto the table, resisting the urge to punch it. "... A prototype of the super soldier serum. It's unstable, unpredictable, and if it ends up in the wrong hands, we're looking at a very ugly sequel to Captain America: The Winter Soldier. Only this time, no shield is gonna save us."
Emilia's breath hitched at the thought of yet another Winter Soldier, not even being able to imagine what was going through Bucky's head in this moment.
Almost subconsciously, her hand found his, holding it tightly, as though she was trying to tell him everything she couldn't say.
Bucky shifted in his seat. He tried everything in his power to pull his hand away from hers... but he couldn't. He felt paralysed under her touch. It made him want to scream.
"This vial will be sold off in an auction in two days. You two have to get the vial before it's up on display." Tony added. "How are we supposed to get by unrecognised, Anthony?" Emilia pushed, hand pressing onto Bucky's tighter.
"Simple. it's a masquerade. Say what you will about Hydra—they sure go all out for anonymity." Tony scoffed, pulling out two files. "Here's all the info you guys will need—" "Got it." Bucky practically jumped out of his chair, pulling has hand out from under hers.
He couldn't get out of that room fast enough. Emilia was taken aback, unsure of what happened. She could only assume his memories with Hydra came flooding back up.
"One moment—" Emilia muttered to Tony, pretty much sprinting after Bucky. When she finally caught up with him, he didn't stop walking.
"Bucky?" She asked, almost like a plea. He stopped mid step, sighing with a shiver. "Are you okay?" She asked softly. stepping closer to him. Bucky turned around abruptly, facing her with a look she hadn't seen in a while. The look he gave her on her birthday after she told him the truth.
Only this time, there was something more in his eyes. Something she couldn't place. He looked more hurt than betrayed. His lip quivered as he tried to answer, nose scrunching ever so slightly.
"No, Emilia. I'm not okay." He scoffed bitterly. Emilia stumbled back. "Just the other day, you thought about being with Aaron. You made me lose my mind for hours thinking of what you two could possibly be doing—just to tell me you don't even want to date! And now what—with the hand holding? Making it seem like you mean something.. something more?" His breath shuddered, chest heaving.
"You can't keep doing this to me, Mel!" He yelled, lowering his voice half way through the sentence.
Emilia felt as if the ground had been yanked from beneath her. His words struck deeper than any blade ever had. Raw and vulnerable. A storm of guilt twisted inside her chest. "I'm—I'm sorry..." She stepped closer. He stepped back. Hesitantly.
Emilia's composure crumbled. "That's not how I—" "I know that's not how you meant it, Emilia. It never is... I just—I need some time. Alone." He muttered, forcing his gaze off of her and walking away.
Emilia froze in place. What had she done? Was it worth it? Was it really?
Moments later, Tony walked out of the room they had just been in, walking up to Emilia.
"Mel..? You okay?" He asked, seemingly unaware of the dispute they just had. Emilia nodded, pushing away her feelings to talk to Tony.
"You forgot your file. Memorise it by tonight okay? before the auction, there's going to be a gala held tomorrow where the safe with the vial will be stored, so you're flying out in a few hours. You'll spend the night in a hotel assigned for your aliases."
Emilia flipped through the file, trying her best to focus on the words on the page rather than the words that left Bucky's lips just a moment ago.
You can't keep doing this to me, Mel.
She wanted to punch herself in the face.
It wasn't long till she noticed the aliases given to her and Bucky.
Eva Smirnova and Dimitri Smirnov.
Fuck.
"Tony—please tell me this isn't what I think it is..." Emilia groaned, looking up at him. "You can't expect to show up to a gala as friends, can you?" Tony quizzed, a little amused by the situation.
"Tony, please—we can't pretend to be married right now—he needs time away from me!" Emilia pleaded, holding her hands up in a prayer.
"No better therapy than quality time together, am I right?" Tony joked, receiving no laughter from Emilia.
"Stark, please. Don't make me hurt him more than I already have.. Why can't you send Nat—"
Emilia furrowed her brows, voice low. "I'm sorry, Mel. Natasha doesn't know Hydra like you do—and Yelena is still recovering from her injuries. You're the only person that fits the role."
"Then just send him alone!" Emilia regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth. She can't send him to go alone. What if he recognises someone? What if he loses his temper and blows his cover? What if they capture him again? Emilia couldn't let that happen. She wouldn't.
"A single, good looking man alone at a masquerade would put too much attention on him. Ladies would fawn over him and not let him out of their sights. A taken man is less interesting to most." Tony countered.
The thought of other women ogling at Bucky made Emilia's lips twitch into a snarl. "What if I go alone?" She deadpanned. Tony raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "Same reason, Emilia. Although perhaps even more eyes on you." Tony laughed, patting her on her shoulder. "Men are dicks. Get used to it."
Trust me, I know.
"I gotta go talk to Barnes about a haircut. Good luck." Tony strutted away, leaving Emilia alone again. She groaned at the realisation that she has to spend two days alone with a man that can't be near her.
She wanted to let him move on. Truly. She wanted nothing more than to lift that weight off his shoulders. To get rid of that constant wait and expectation.
But this wasn't up to her. More people can end up the same way Bucky did and she'd be damned if she let that happen. You could argue that she was more passionate about destroying it than he was.
So she had to put her personal feelings aside. All that matters is for history not to repeat itself.
˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚:*･゜ﾟ･*˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚
Emilia waited awkwardly in front of the jet as she waited for Bucky. Her packed bags beside her. She was given a strict wardrobe to wear to the gala. She has to look presentable.
Her heart was pounding in her ears at the anticipation of seeing Bucky again. She couldn't help but wonder how disappointed he'd look when he sees her. When he remembers he has to go on this mission with her.
She started fidgeting with the sleeve of her jacket when a dark figure holding a bag started walking up to her. It was almost midnight so she couldn't place who it was. It certainly couldn't have been Bucky—his hair wasn't that short—
Oh shit.
Tony's words just replayed in her mind from earlier. I gotta go talk to Barnes about a haircut.
Just then Bucky walked up to Emilia, his face and hair blatantly visible.
Aхуеть. (Holy shit.) He cut his hair. He cut his hair and he looks even better than he did before. Is this a joke? Surely I'm getting mocked. God is mocking me, surely. How does one look even more majestic than they did before? I can't get on that plane with him anymore. I can't—I might just jump him—
"You okay?" Bucky muttered, face turning a light shade of red at the way she was gawking at him. She either liked the hair or was trying not to laugh. He assumed it was the latter.
"I didn't have a say in this, okay? Tony made me do it." He rolled his eyes, grabbing her bags with his free hand and carrying them up the jet. He had worn gloves to hide his metal arm.
Emilia finally snapped out of it as soon as he left her eye frame. Pull yourself together, Emiliya. Grown woman acting like a middle schooler.
The flight itself was possibly the most awkward interaction they've had yet. It would've been less awkward if Emilia didn't take every chance she got to glance at his new appearance. Usually it was him doing all the staring. Not anymore though. That realisation cut deep through Emilia.
He won't look at her that way anymore. Isn't that a good thing? Isn't that what she wanted? For him to move on—be happy?
They were sitting parallel to each other, both of them studying their files in silence. It wasn't long until Emilia read something so diabolical in the file that she yelled it out loud.
"I'm pregnant?!"
Bucky chocked on air, almost dropping the file as he tried to collect himself. "What?" he spat. "Right here! It says we're expecting a baby! I'm supposed to tell people that?" The dismay on Emilia's face was not displayed lightly.
Apparently pregnant women seem to disinterest men. Who would’ve thought?
Bucky's breath hitched at the thought of them having a family together, his heart starting to ache again. "That's—that's crazy." He forced a chuckle, forcing his eyes back on the file.
Emilia put her folder on the empty seat beside her, now staring at her stomach with a frown. She stared for a while until Bucky finally asked with a bitter tone. "What are you doing?" "Could I pass for pregnant?" She asked with genuine concern.
Bucky's jaw practically fell off his skull. How does he answer that? Was this a trap? She's the fittest woman he's ever laid eyes on—but would saying she could pass for pregnant indicate he thinks she's fat? Or would it make her worry less? This should not be this hard—
"Bucky?" She called out, noticing how he's been staring at her stomach for a little too long now. "Sorry! Sorry—uh.. yeah, just say you're only a few weeks in or something.." Bucky muttered all too fast.
Emilia grinned at his answer, seemingly pleased.
Phew.
Bucky went back to his file, trying to focus on the information, but his mind just started cluttering itself with images of the family they could build one day. He wanted to jump out of the jet at the thought.
He needs to distance from her. She doesn't try making it easier for him either. That's what drives him insane. If he ends up in a psych ward one day, he blames Emilia. Never has he met someone as bipolar with their decisions as her.
It was the one thing keeping his feelings at bay. Pushed down. Hidden.
The rest of that flight went by with no interruptions and no outbursts. It wasn't long until they arrived at a pick up spot where a car drove them to their hotel.
As they entered the lobby, Emilia walked up to the reception with a forced wide smile on her face. "Hi! Room for the Smirnovs please," she said with fake excitement. Bucky's fists clenched at the reminder that they're married.
"Of course! The happy couple! Your father made sure to get you guys the most luxurious couples suite! You two must be so in love!"
Father? Stark, you little—
"That, we are!" Bucky faked, wrapping an arm around Emilia's waist. She flinched at the unexpected contact, quickly getting back into character at the worry that their cover might get blown.
She put on the most genuine smile she could, forcing out a bitter laugh. "Right this way." The woman smiled as she guided them to the elevator.
The silence was deafening as they waited to get to the sixth floor. Bucky's hand lingered on her hip, regret filling him with every passing second. Emilia could feel his fingers twitching.
Could he really learn to withstand me this fast? What if it was never that serious for him? I wonder how disgusted of me he must feel if he can't even stand to touch me.
"Here's your room. Enjoy." The woman handed Emilia the key, swiftly walking back to the elevator. Emilia quickly opened the door, leading the way inside with Bucky's arm still tightly on her waist.
As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Bucky's hand slid from Emilia's waist as though it was acid. Emilia did a good job hiding her disappointment with the change.
Bucky dropped all their bags on the floor, Emilia taking notice in how he carried them all with on hand.
Right—super soldier.
The room itself mocked them—a single king bed draped in white, rose-colored lamps casting soft light across a space clearly designed for warmth and intimacy. A pair of champagne glasses waited on the nightstand, and in the corner sat a loveseat that seemed almost too small for two people who weren't speaking.
Emilia swallowed back the instinct to fill the silence, instead grabbed her bag and went to change in the bathroom.
As she finished up—leaving the bathroom, she saw Bucky had already changed into his pyjamas. They came with a shirt this time. Emilia couldn't hide the slight bit of disappointment she felt this time.
He noticed the necklace he made her sitting on her collar. Like it belonged. She had always worn it, but has been hiding it recently under her shirts.
Bucky made his way towards the bathroom as soon as she left the doorframe. Their shoulders grazed as he passed her. She froze, the electricity she felt undeniable. Bucky however, seemed unfazed. He went inside the bathroom, locking the door immediately.
A sudden thud was heard from inside the bathroom. Did he just punch the wall?
Emilia thought it was best not to question him, so she carefully made her way towards the window, admiring the view until he finally came out of the bathroom.
She turned, her throat dry. The bed loomed between them. One bed, no couch. Пиздетс. (Fuck.)
"I'll take the floor," she said softly, already pulling one of the pillows loose.
That was the first thing that broke through his anger. He looked up, a flash of guilt tugging at his features. "You're not sleeping on the floor," he muttered, though the sharpness in his voice wasn't meant for her.
"I don't mind."
"Well, I do."
The room grew even smaller in that moment, his words weighing heavy in the air. He dragged a hand down his face, frustration written all over him. Finally, without meeting her eyes, he sank onto one side of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight.
Emilia hesitated, clutching the pillow against her chest like a shield. She slowly climbed onto the other side of the bed, leaving a gulf of sheets in between them.
Neither spoke. Their backs turned. And yet, both of them lay awake, listening to the other breathe.