Owner	Pose
Peggy Carter	There is very little 'special' about this evening. It's a Thursday night. It's not really cold out yet but it's not summer hot any more, just a vaguely pleasant fall breeze down the streets. Nothing's tried to blow up the world recently. There is utterly no reason someone should be knocking upon his door, but perhaps that's exactly why Peggy Carter came. She never needed a reason -- except for him. It's been a few months since they properly talked. At least, since someone tried to assassinate her and the fix was rather transformative. No longer does she look like the pushing-40 something matron of a Director she did when he returned to himself, the image she'd been frozen in since they used a serum to save her after he tried to kill her in the late 60s. She looks like someone turned backed the clock. A fresh faced 29, far closer to the woman he met on the back of a truck with the Howling Commandos. A woman he's shared at least a few nicked, precious war-time cigarettes with and even some training brawls. That's the face and body she's carrying now. It's almost strange. She's also holding a paper bag of food that conceals the upper half of her elegant fall jacket. It smells heavily of Italian spices and fresh garlic. A quiet, respectful, if slightly worried smile lingers on her ever-red lips as she waits for him to open the door. "Barnes. I know you're home."
James Barnes	A few months, a few weeks, a few days... It's all the same to Bucky. He was keeping them all safe. He had to believe that. He was dangerous in every sense of the word. How could he live with himself if he killed a trusted friend? How could he live with himself if the right word was spoken or the right sound was heard? Bucky does not want to turn back into the Winter Soldier, the Wolf of HYDRA. He didn't want to become the monster. So here he's been, living on Brighton Beach and indulging in his isolation. Trying to delve through memories, some old ones that were coming back...and the nightmares he attempted to dig through. The amnesia was still hitting pretty hard. He was currently watching the news. Sitting on the floor with Lily, a german shepherd, laying there next to him as he watched the nice television. It was a simple home that he managed to attain with no small help. He takes a few sniffs of the air. Garlic. The voice of Peggy Carter is heard at the door and a gun is instictively drawn and trained on the entrance to his home. Approaching the door, he looks through the eye before opening the door just a slight crack, gun pressed to the door at the perfect angle to immediately shoot down anyone who was behind it just in case. It's Peggy. His expression slightly softens, even if his eyes look just as saddened. "You look younger." Bucky remembers that much at least, but he doesn't ask why she's here. He has a feeling she'll explain that part in due time.
Peggy Carter	"You know, when most people tell me that, it's generally meant as a compliment. Somehow, I'm not getting that impression here." Peggy deadpans to him with just enough warmth to her voice that he should know she is joking. Both her neat dark brows lift, looking what bit of him she can see up and down as she waits on his doorstep patiently. "...Now, are you going to put that gun down and let me in, or will I be eating lasagna alone on your front door step. If the dog is about, I'm sure at least *she* would like some." No pity in her voice, no pouting or immediate, shoving hugs. Just a firm praticality underlined by the quietest concern she is trying not to show too much, lest she scare him away.
James Barnes	Bucky doesn't reply. Not immediately. Eyes scan Peggy like she was a foreign anomaly. He doesn't seem to grow upset or hostile at any of her words, nor does he look like he's about to break into a sprint at any moment. He watches Peggy like a hawk watches prey...or maybe that's just the way his eyes look, like he's always ready for the worst scenario. She can hear the cocking of a pistol, of a hammer being reset - not about to be fired - and he opens the door a little wider. She sees he's wearing jeans and a t-shirt, his metal arm fully seen and noticeable. "Come in." He steps aside so she can enter. Lily runs up to Peggy's feet, but not in front of her feet to avoid knocking her over or causing her to trip. At least Bucky remembered hospitality...with a little bit of prodding.
Peggy Carter	"Thank you. I never thought you'd ask." It's absolutely Peggy. Younger or not, she still has that deadpan, slightly biting British sense of humor always followed by a smile that seemed to soften even her sharpest barbs. When she steps past him to come in the door she even smells like her old self - vanilla and a hint of rose. Her favorite soap from the war that she begged Phillips for extra ratio cards *just* for that. Once inside, she politely slides out of her high heels, stockinged feet carrying her over to the kitchen counter before she puts the bag down and kneels neatly, knees tucked together, to ruffle her red fingernails lovingly into Lily's scruff, "Hullo, darling. I know. He's keeping us all from being friends because he's pouting, isn't he?" She asks the dog as if she were talking to a human.
James Barnes	Even her barbs are met with a steeled silence. She may remember that during the war, Barnes was a bit of a chatterbox and no small amount of a flirt. He consistently asked Peggy out, probably to complete and repeated denials (especially since the majority was in jest to mess with her) and lamented Steve's ability to somehow be more successful romantically outclassed his own. He was a chatterbox. He had personality and would meet Peggy's barbs with some of his own, typically turning into an America vs. England debate at some point in the conversation. This guy though? He's a shell of his former self. A shadow of a shadow, whose mind has been so far damaged that its as if he's cautious to even speak. He walks past Peggy even as she stops at the dog to pet and lovingly brush Lily's scruff, who barks approvingly at the attention that Bucky totally (probably) doesn't give her. He doesn't reply to her barbs, but he is examining the bag. What Peggy may also notice is that his home is...horrifically underfurnished. He has a couch at the far wall, and a blanket and pillow in the middle of the room, even though he has a bedroom that looks like it has been untouched since he got the place. There is no alcohol, nor a fully stocked fridge. He's not taking care of himself. Classic signs of deep PTSD.
Peggy Carter	Aa there is not even a single response to her words, Peggy lets out a slightly slower breath through her nose. She scritches down Lily's side one more time, gives her forehead a little kiss, and then neatly unfolds from her crouch on the floor so she can look at him. Inside the bags is a stack of Italian food from one of the places that (now handed down through three generations) was around when he and Steve were young. Steve had to have told Peggy about it at some point. There's a silver square take out dish of lasagna, one of spaghetti, and one of gnocchi. Three massive pieces of garlic bread have been wrapped up in foil, as well as a bunch of garlic knots to dip in their good sauce. There's even salad with their homemade dressing, to give a small nod towards vegetables. It's all hot enough she probably just picked it up. "Leave at least one of those pieces of garlic bread for Lily. It's not *all* for you." Peggy offers quietly, but most of the teasing is out of her voice. Now she's just worried.
James Barnes	Silence speaks louder than words ever could. Bucky looks through the food, he sees the Italian food of a place that feels familiar but lost to the void of memory. He smells the scent of the food, like one would a priceless artifact. "I know the smell. Old...new. I don't know where from." Bucky finally speaks, his voice soft but audible. He takes out some of the dishes and gently places it on the counter. If Peggy notices. he pulls out a necklace. Dog tags. They were his and kept on record since the war....now they are back where it belongs. "I'll try." To leave some for the dog. A moment of silence passes, and Bucky finally addresses the elephant in the room. "Why are you here, Peggy?" He asks, cold eyes finally turning towards her. "You know I'm dangerous. Better alone."
Peggy Carter	As he even dares to start taking the food out of the bags, something in Peggy relaxes just a little bit. She is patient as can be, letting him pick through all of the boxes and enjoy the scents. A bittersweet, quiet smile pulls at her lips as he finally speaks about the scent. "Lucchesi's. It's a restaurant down in... well, they call it Bushwick now. I don't know if that's just something the hipsters say, though. Steve said you liked it." The tone of her voice is still quiet, clearly caring. She's not as close as he and Steve, no one could be, but the care is deep and goes back far longer than many of their other friends and colleagues have even been alive. She lets one hip rest against the counter a few feet down from, a deep smirk pulling at her mouth a heartbeat later. "Considering you nearly killed me three times, yes. I have rather figured that out. Also considering none of those times *entirely* succeeded, even deep in your worst brain washing..." Peggy gives a little shrug, no fear in her eyes. "And they've thrown a lot at me lately. One got almost as close as you did, yet I'm still standing. I think your company is worth the risk." Her smile softens a bit more, dark eyes searching for his blues. "Besides... haven't I always loved a little danger in my life?"
James Barnes	"Luck. Coincidence. Refrain." Three words to meet Peggy's survival of the Winter Soldier three times. "You won't like it. I don't know what you remember, or what you think you can do about my memories, but you're safer by staying away." Bucky tells her then. Her stating that she liked danger in her life makes Bucky sigh. "All SHIELD agents do." He doesn't know if she's flirting or just being kind and he doesn't approach it. Instead, he focuses on the food. "Lucchesi's...." Bucky repeats. "Italian food is my favorite. It was one of the first things I tried." Silence. "...thank you, Peggy."
Peggy Carter	"Recognition. Even if for a moment. Something... something in you knew it was me. I know you'll never believe it, but I also know what I saw with my own two eyes. And I know that the man you...were... doesn't fail. Except with me. A few slim others. It's not just concidence." Peggy shrugs and then pulls the last bag open, grabbing out a bottle of red wine and two glass bottles of coke -- the kind with the real sugar in it. She had to go hunting for that. She busies herself pulling down plates (if he has any) and some silver ware. Two settings. She's determined to share dinner with him. "And it's not because you're *dangerous* that I'm here. Nor am I flirting, whatever is going through your head. I'm quite the married woman now and have been since '51. It's because you are my friend. So. You're welcome. If you really want to thank me... let me have dinner with you."
James Barnes	"You're right, I don't." Believe that somehow, he had the chance to finish it and just didn't. "It doesn't happen. Never happened. Only with Steve." His best and closest friend. She's married? Good for her! Bucky doesn't know why he grins at that. "You seem the type to never settle down." Maybe he's just genuinely happy that Peggy found a guy. "Won't your husband be upset if you're having dinner with a murderer?" Bucky tries to pull out the stops...then he sighs. "Sure. I don't have much of a dining table though."
Peggy Carter	A roll comes to her eyes at the commentary about him not missing, but she doesn't push on it. He's talking to her and there is no reason for them to rehash old, bad times. This is better, as she helps him dish out the delicious, still slightly scalding food with cheese that pulls half way across the kitchen counter. It wasn't going to be a clean meal. She steals out a meatball, ripping it in half with her fingernails and dropping both sides into Lily's dish. She's not scared to get messy. "James. *You* might not remember it, but I definitely remember you and I eating on a mud covered blanket we both were pretending wasn't soaked through and insisting those ration biscuits tasted just like home. We were delerious. I think I can manage a floor meal with you again. And Daniel won't mind. He fought in the war too. He's used to having meals with murderers. You'll have to properly meet him sometime..." There is a softness behind her eyes that betrays her -- Peg is absolutely besotted with this guy, even this many years latter.
James Barnes	The eye-roll is not lost on him. He won't do much more to damage her pride or his own. The scalding food is well prepared and delicious to the scent, the smell alone causing Bucky to take a deep breath and just enjoy the very scent of it. She hits him with memories he doesn't remember, feelings he's forgotten, time spent in the mud with the howling commandos. Nothing. Just haze in the winter cold. "Guess I'll have to." Bucky takes out the little silverware he possesses and offers a fork and knife to Peggy. "Here." Bucky tells her. Straightforward. Blunt. Casual. "I don't remember the war...never really. Never fully. It's like a dream of a dream. Within reach, but always too far away."
Peggy Carter	The dark haired woman takes the fork, a bittersweet smile across her lips. "It's... alright, Buck. You don't *have* to remember, especially not now. You just have to be... here. With us. To live. Maybe let us make some new memories. But hiding away in this cave isn't helping anyone, yourself included." Peggy balances the fork in her hand that's holding her plate, so her free palm can reach up and give a gentle squeeze to his bicep. "I don't need the Bucky from the war. Frankly, he was a bit of an arse. I... could use a friend now. I suspect you could too. But we'll start with dinner." She gives his arm one more squeeze and then lets go to unceremoniously plop down on the floor, legs stretched out to make a tray of her lap so she can rest her plate there and dig in.