Bucky Barnes (
shapethecentury) wrote2025-01-01 02:06 pm
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Outside MCA #4, Wednesday
Bucky had taken off for Wakanda right after Thanksgiving, and then he'd... stayed. Doing the work, feeling uncertain whether the work was actually taking (whether he was becoming any less crazy), taking Ayo's hypocritical grousing about how he should be less grumpy, as well as Shuri's gentle jabs and sighs about being a persistently broken white boy.
Steve had popped in over the holidays, and they'd made their best attempt at recreating a Brooklyn Christmas, just between the two of them.
It had been terrible.
It had been perfect.
And now the year was over, and Steve was back out in the world doing his own thing, and Ayo had all but booted Bucky out of Wakanda. "Go, James," she'd said. "Rest." He'd complied, although not before --
Well, his hair was short, now. Trimmed at the sides, just slightly longer on top, but nowhere near hanging in his face anymore. He kept catching his own reflection, and being weirded out by it, like he didn't recognize himself, but he did recognize himself.
His hair hadn't been this short since the goddamn 1940s.
(It felt like a little bit of weight had lifted off him. He wasn't thinking about it too closely. Ayo had said rest, and there was nothing quite as exhausting as introspection.)
Anyway. The first stop upon arriving back on the island was obvious.
He stood outside MCA #4, backpack slung over his shoulder, and knocked.
[ooc: For her whose door this is! And yes we are debuting the TFAWS hair ahead of schedule.]
Steve had popped in over the holidays, and they'd made their best attempt at recreating a Brooklyn Christmas, just between the two of them.
It had been terrible.
It had been perfect.
And now the year was over, and Steve was back out in the world doing his own thing, and Ayo had all but booted Bucky out of Wakanda. "Go, James," she'd said. "Rest." He'd complied, although not before --
Well, his hair was short, now. Trimmed at the sides, just slightly longer on top, but nowhere near hanging in his face anymore. He kept catching his own reflection, and being weirded out by it, like he didn't recognize himself, but he did recognize himself.
His hair hadn't been this short since the goddamn 1940s.
(It felt like a little bit of weight had lifted off him. He wasn't thinking about it too closely. Ayo had said rest, and there was nothing quite as exhausting as introspection.)
Anyway. The first stop upon arriving back on the island was obvious.
He stood outside MCA #4, backpack slung over his shoulder, and knocked.
[ooc: For her whose door this is! And yes we are debuting the TFAWS hair ahead of schedule.]
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(Well. Nobody but one person.)
She rose from behind her desk, and looked at the door. "This better not be anyone else," she muttered to herself as she walked to the door, coffee in hand. Opened it. And--
"Holy crap."
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"... Okay?"
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"That bad, huh?" he... teased. Yes, let's go with that.
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And was that disappointment he felt, because she hadn't?
"Thanks," Bucky said, regardless. "It's a... return to form, I guess. For my hair."
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And stepped past her, into her apartment.
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"So what made you decide to do it now?"
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"Don't know," he said, taking a glance around, as if she was likely to have made major changes to her apartment in a month. "It just... felt like maybe it was time."
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"Well," she said. "That sounds like a good thing?"
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"It's just hair."
If that was true, he probably either wouldn't have cut it, or he would've done it sooner.
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She picked her words carefully. And she sounded like it.
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He gave in, finally. His hand came up, scratched at his head right above his ear.
A little wry, looking away.
"Maybe it... Wasn't."
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And muttered something.
"-- might like it," was all that was sort of audible.
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It wasn't the whole reason he'd done it. It wasn't even half.
But it was a factor.
A factor he was now feeling the urge to move on from. "Anyway," he said, clearing his throat. "Any, uh. Any chance of a coffee? Came straight here."
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Huh.
I've never had anyone get a haircut because they thought I might like it before. What does that mean?
"Uh, of course," Jesse said, and thanked the stars for her incredible poker
jawface. "Sit down, I'll go make us some."no subject
But he also finally got the backpack off his shoulder, so that he could go sit down.
(Gold star, Barnes, you definitely didn't still have it.)
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Ugh, why did she feel weirdly nervous? It was just James.
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And... sat. Quietly.
(Look, at least he hadn't told her even Ayo had mentioned her by name when she'd sent him out of Wakanda.)
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"So," Jesse said, pushing a smile back onto her face. "How's things?"
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A beat.
"Those aren't really related. Christmas was Steve's idea, for one."
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Cheery, Buck.
"It was pretty good."
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He shrugged a little.
"It was still Christmas with Steve."
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Bucky's little smile was a little on the wan side. "Well, the next one is a long time from now."
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"It's just 52 weeks," Jesse said. "That's not that long. Maybe I can come."
... shit.
"...for the broader holidays, I mean."
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"Nice save," he said, right before taking a sip.
What?
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Still kind of hidden behind his mug, for... reasons.
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Ugggh.
I am the Director of the FBC!
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He was... Going to sip his coffee, in the meantime.
And maybe think a little.
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She walked back out a few minutes later. "Should've gotten coffee in the first place."
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He watched her return, and gave her a little shrug. "Late's better than never?"
He was... maybe starting to believe that about stuff in general.
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She took another sip.
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Stellar conversation, Barnes. (Shut up, narrative, he was just taking another sip of his own.)
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"So do you feel like you made any progress this time?" she asked, trying to get the conversation back on track.
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"It's not like I'm able to tell the difference," he said, "so that might as well be it, right?"