James "Bucky" Barnes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cold_shoulder) wrote2012-03-02 11:51 pm
cold_shoulder) wrote2012-03-02 11:51 pm
Sample scene flavor one for ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
marvel_universe
Since they had given him the assignment to train operatives, the Winter Soldier had seen quite a few go through the Red Room - the training for which happened far from only in any particular room. Most of them were fast and precise and eager to do things right. Some of them were smart and could be taught to be quick-thinking.
But nobody had been using their mind to the objective at hand until she had appeared, gun in one hand and grenade in the other. Brave, determined, beautiful. Not allowing herself to be distracted from the tasks she had, and at the same time with a hint of a sense of humor which meshed inexplicably well with him, somewhere below the level of his usual thought processes.
He's been watching, yes.
Natalia Romanova.
He'd been watching others try to emulate her, too, and had been greatly amused at girls imitating her motions without fully realizing the ideas behind them. And then feel disappointed at failing.
But mostly, he'd been watching her. He wasn't allowed access to much information about her; that was classified and not a part of his assignment. So he'd been piecing things together. Little things betrayed by her motions, but her reactions to knowledge betrayed by others.
And he'd been watching the beauty of her. The dancer training was clear in everything from her flexibility to the graceful efficiency of her motions. It stirred something in him. Something warm and unknown and strange, separate from the definite physical desire. The latter he could define and control. The former... it confused him. And drew him closer to her, until the evening when, all exercises complete, he knocked on her window.
But nobody had been using their mind to the objective at hand until she had appeared, gun in one hand and grenade in the other. Brave, determined, beautiful. Not allowing herself to be distracted from the tasks she had, and at the same time with a hint of a sense of humor which meshed inexplicably well with him, somewhere below the level of his usual thought processes.
He's been watching, yes.
Natalia Romanova.
He'd been watching others try to emulate her, too, and had been greatly amused at girls imitating her motions without fully realizing the ideas behind them. And then feel disappointed at failing.
But mostly, he'd been watching her. He wasn't allowed access to much information about her; that was classified and not a part of his assignment. So he'd been piecing things together. Little things betrayed by her motions, but her reactions to knowledge betrayed by others.
And he'd been watching the beauty of her. The dancer training was clear in everything from her flexibility to the graceful efficiency of her motions. It stirred something in him. Something warm and unknown and strange, separate from the definite physical desire. The latter he could define and control. The former... it confused him. And drew him closer to her, until the evening when, all exercises complete, he knocked on her window.
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Then he let his eyes settle on her, meeting hers. And he smiled. "We have things we should talk through. And... I've been away."
Getting some steady sleep actually made a difference. It wasn't enough, but it helped. Also, he couldn't quite allow himself to recognize the sheer feeling of exhilaration in her presence. Now that... certain things had started happening. The Winter Soldier didn't grin goofily because a woman liked him, did he?
Well, he was pretty damn close.
He cleared his throat, forcing himself to focus. "Putting together what we know of the dangers ought to help coming up with the ways to avoid them. When we have that underway..." And then his right hand reached to run fingers over her knuckles. "More to talk of, too."
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She nodded to the suggestion to talk, she was sure there was much to discuss, especially recent developments that altered the dynamic of their personal interactions.
His smile seemed lighter somehow, there was something more, or maybe something less to it than before. He seemed lighter himself; he would have those moments when he seemed almost someone else entirely.
"The training." She nodded; then shivered, her jaw slacked slightly at the soft touch across her skin. "We...we will have to behave as normal trainer and trainee. No action, no matter how small can be allowed to compromise that. I cannot be seen to be treated differently." Nor could she afford to react any differently to him than any other trainer.
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"It won't be very much better when they're gone, either." They wouldn't be alone then, not completely.
Except that it would be better. He didn't know the words or the reasons, but he knew it would be.
He didn't know what he was doing, anymore. He was way too aware of himself to not realize that, but he didn't know why. And he didn't know if he should say so - a part of him wanted to lay open for her so she knew, too; another part - the long-standing instructor-trained part - was firmly against that idea.
In the end, he sighed, looking down at their hands - which was difficult with the after-image of that smile on her face, but he did.
"Natalia. This will be... difficult. And it won't ever stop being difficult. And the best we can hope for is that they'll put a stop on it, one way or another. The worst..." Eyes twitched up, but he didn't cringe. "They're unlikely to really want to waste either of us as a resource. And there are things worse than death.
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
Even if he knew that experience is on his side, and he should make the call. Break this off. That since he was here, since he wasn't letting go of her, that of itself would be urging her to not pull back - as instructor and... otherwise. (His lips tingled with the memory of her kiss...)
But he had to give her the option. It was only fair.
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AS she saw it that was the only choice she had, if she refused, if she failed she was as good as dismissed, and that was only a kind word for a undesirable fate. She nodded to the idea with a cold acceptance; but the thought of being away from this place, of testing her metal and seeing him daily, it was enough to bring a smile to her lips.
"I'm not afraid." Clearly the words of one who hasn't yet come to understand what she had to lose. She only knew the thrilled of her heart when she was with him like this, the way her body warmed and tensed when they kissed. He made her feel like no other ever had, to her it meant it was worth all the risk involved for each and every moment together.
"James," His name a prayer on her lips, whispered reverently and with so much longing. "I want you." With what innocence she still retained it was not a wantonly sexual statement. It meant exactly what it said, she wanted him. Natalia wanted him in her life; to be with her, to talk to her as they did now, to be her friend and mentor, her guide and teacher of things beyond battle. Most of all she wanted him; she wanted James. That was the name she addressed, not The Winter Soldier. Could he have any lingering doubt of her affections? Surely he had to see by now that the girl was completely and utterly smitten with him.
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"You're not afraid, no. But you will be." It wasn't a threat, but it was something she needed to hear. "You've drawn attention and you are getting moved to the fast track. The... advanced training. Anything you learn from now on will be dangerous if directed against us - they do not know just how much already," he would have smiled here, because that was his doing, except what he was saying was ... not a laughing matter. Nor a smirking one. "It means that if you fail, if they can not use you, there will be no parting of the ways. They will make sure you are eliminated.
"Too many secrets. Too many skills. You will need to focus on knowing how to pull through anything that they - that we - can throw at you. I shouldn't be a distraction."
It wasn't a command. It was a plea, the concern for her clear in his eyes. Clear and certain.
"And when they're done with the training..." It would get worse. Then she would see just how discardable even the most valued assets were, in the field. "Then it will get harder. The training is preparing you for what we'll be doing, but even the worst we do to you here won't compare to what you'll be facing out there. Natalia... Natasha. Please promise me you won't let me stop you still in your tracks. Whatever happens, keep moving. Forward, and on, and again. That is the only way to get through, and you need to remember this.
"Don't let me, this, us... don't let me weigh you down."
Because if she was gone, if he caused her to be taken down... what?
"Get down! Let go!"
"I can't!"
"Nooooo!"
He swallowed. "Promise me."
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“You are not a distraction, you are inspiration. That I have become what I am is in working to make you proud. I want to feel worthy of you.” That was…a mistake. She said something she should not as it placed him at a level of importance he would rather not be at. But she would at all times be honest with him; even as he trained her in deception to him she could not lie.
“Give me orders; direct me and I will be as they want me to be. I promise you James, I will not fall short, I will strive until my last breath for perfection.” There it was, not a vow to her party or her program, but one to him, so much deeper and more meaningful. She was making a promise that she would fulfill every goal and exceed it. Natalia would be the brightest star in the night, because that was what he asked, it was what was necessary.
“You cannot weigh me down,” Her head tipped to the side with a curious look to him; brows furrowed and her lips quirked before she spoke again. “You do not see it, do you?” Her deceitfully delicate hands took his face; she leaned in close to speak again. “You cannot weigh me down because you have given me wings to soar.”
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The realization hit him, hard. Almost like a physical blow in the solar plexus, and his eyes and mouth opened, his gaze fixed on her. The glow of her eyes, the cadence, certainty of her voice. The dedication. Yes. This was for him, and him alone - not for the Red Room, not fer the Party, not for the people. Not for the Comrade out there. Only for him. And something inside of him melted, something that he'd held onto since the first time he'd stepped inside her window, something that shouldn't have been possible, that he didn't know (and yet he also knew it well, it fit like it belonged, inside).
"Natalia... people are never meant to actually be perfect. We can, and we do, and we will strive for perfection. But it is... impossible. Unachievable. You are brilliant, and beautiful, and you have so, so much room to grow. You don't have to lose your ... your self trying to fulfill an impossible promise."
His thumb rubbed over her folded fingers. "Live. It's much harder than being flawless. But, please. Live. As yourself."
She already was the brightest star. His brightest, even through all that was starting to leak inside his head - not as memories, but impressions. Feelings. Moments. Things he wanted to give her and knew he couldn't, probably shouldn't - though that part mattered less and less.
"Soar for me, then. Don't let anyone shoot you down. And I'll be proud of you."
The Winter Solder, the perfect weapon of the Project X, was swept in a flood of words, in a torrent of feeling - the things he was supposed to have too little of, and not miss them. But that was all right. So long as he was holding on to her small, strong hands.
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"I will do both, I can Miliy moi."
It was the first time she used such address with him, and in her own tongue rather than the English he had her use so often. It was specific, the English was artifice, facade, this came from her heart and she wanted him to know and understand that. Natalia was in love with him, there was not question to her now. All that remained was for them to not suffer for it.
"Watch me soar, as graceful as the ballerina on the stage, I will be in battle. It will be a dance, a thing of beauty and skill." Prophetic declaration as her skills would so soon be tested.
She glanced out the window, the moon was higher than it should be, night was waning too quickly. "I should rest, for tomorrow." Though it was clear by her tone that she would far rather spend her time with him than sleeping. "We have much work ahead of us, as you said."
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And his eyes did warm up at the address, at the image she was describing.
"That, I know you will. You will dance your way into men's dreams and nightmares both, embraced by the night even in the light of day. Faultless. Almost invisible, definitely uncatchable, but unforgettable. And those who do see you will know the fire that you are, too, wrapped in the shadows. Not as I know your fire. But you'll still blaze through their lives and incinerate what you aim to destroy."
He swallowed. Where had all these words come from? He didn't know. But he could see it. Could see her, somehow, and all that it would cost her - and all the ways she just wasn't going to turn away from those costs.
"You are almost that good, already. And you will keep on getting better. And all the rewards you receive, you will have earned.
"My Natalia."
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Perfection, honing her skills until she could easily do them in her sleep. She could be the most formidable, each movement, action, step sure always the same, every time...Always the same! That was what he meant! If she preformed the same every time eventually that would be a determent, she could be anticipated. By being perfect she would allow someone to devise counter strategy and she would not know how to deal with it. So, she must be flexible, the light of the idea dawned in her eyes. That mind that he prized her for, above the abilities others saw, now proved him right.
"Like dance, I must remain fluid enough to compensate and ready to adapt. I understand." And she did, it was so very clear to her now, as was the reason so many others had failed. They had studied for perfection, which only made them a more perfect target. She would need to constantly reinvent herself to stay a step ahead. She would have to learn all she could, not just about fighting. Combat was a necessity, but there could be ways around it, there would be other skills she would need. She would know them, all.
He flattered her again and she demurred with a soft smile, but looked up sharply at his last address to her. It was so familiar, so warm, so sincere that she moved before she realized it. Her lips found his and everything she wanted to say poured into her kiss. A sweet desperation flavored with a promise, this was not a crush. She felt for him, and in this moment she could show it. She didn't know when the chance would come again, so she took it for all it was worth.
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And, this time, when she kissed him, he drew her closer, the metal hand behind her back to keep her near, the other one rising up to stroke her cheek, the edge of her ear, then cup the back of her head as he kissed back.
For a change, just now, the worry that this would destroy - her, he thought, and that was worse than the idea that it would destroy himself - was put to rest. It made him relax, a little. Made him bask in her warmth, in her affection, and it felt - he felt - all right. The sensation... it rippled through him, a release from the tension that had been building up in him for a while, now, keeping him awake, on edge.
It couldn't be good, a part of him knew, it couldn't end well. But oh, it felt so... so much better than anything he could remember.
So he leaned a little back, resting his shoulders against the headboard, and drew her in with him.
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She whispered things between kisses, terms of endearment, promises, words that had no meaning only feelings that poured from her. She was in love, she knew it to be true, she had been careful not to expose the secret to anyone, but she knew it as surely as she knew the feel, weight and balance of her training pistol. This was illicit and forbidden but that hardly stopped her, it was perhaps unlocking the doors of making her unstoppable in other ways as well.
She stretched with his recline and her body laid across his, a small and feverishly warm blanket of arms and legs enfolding him. Her heated lips taking his and offering themselves back while hands ran over his shoulders and chest in slow, easy exploration. She simply could not get enough of him. Reality would intrude sooner or later, but having had a taste of this she was brazen now to take all she could get of this intimacy.
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And then there was her. She was gorgeous, and he was not quite sure how to express the appreciation, the attraction, in ways that were neither gross nor - breaking. But she was. Fire of her hair, flame in her eyes, body slender and supple, yet curvy, in perfect shape... He ran his fingers down her side, then up, brushing the side of a breast, then settled with the tips resting against the pulse at her throat, and just... kissed her. Yes, his trousers were getting tight, but with her weight against him and the way they moved, with the scent and taste of her on him, it was good. So good.
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She wanted him.
She wanted him.
There might have been many others who would willingly and with enthusiasm shared a bed with her had she approached them, but she had one one object of her desire, her affection. Where before they had been cautious and careful, drawing strict boundaries between them; now they seemed to want to break every self imposed rule they'd created.
Every time his hand grazed her skin she made a sound, a tiny gasp of surprise or a mewl of pleasure or a low, throaty moan of need. The only frustrating part was not knowing what it was she needed, well in broad terms she knew, she understood what made her ache and feel empty. But specifically what did she want? Release? Pleasure? A lover? What would happen when and if they had their fill of each others bodies; assuming she ever could get her fill.
Her legs parted and slid to rest on the bedspread, knees drew up to allow her to straddle his hips. Ohhh that reaction of his, it made her bite her lower lip and pull back to look at him. If her green eyes had been aflame before they were an inferno now. She smoldered for him, and that heat was not lacking in their near connection below. Her hips rocked on him, even with cloth between them there was friction and that was delicious.
Natalia's lips moved from his and drew down along his jaw line. Rough stubble scraped against soft skin, each inch of the path traced in fiery marks of mouth, teeth and tongue. She moved further still, working her way along his throat and glorying in the way it made his Adam's apple jump when she nipped and licked her way back. Her teeth worried over the soft flesh of his ear lobe, tugging gently before sucking softly at it. She spoke the words, words women and men have said in a thousand languages since the dawn of time. She knew what she wanted, and she made it clear.
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He gave a low moan at the friction, the pressure, the warmth of her rubbing against him, a moan that was swallowed by the kiss, then he. Oh...
This felt so good it couldn't be right, and, yet, he knew it was. It only took him a moment of hesitation before he tilted his head back, exposing his throat in a gesture that he was keenly aware was an ultimate vulnerability... and turned him on even more.
Because this was her. Because his lips were already whispering her name almost noiselessly, before she whispered back. Those words. Those words that he both didn't understand and understood perfectly. Those words that nobody who did what he did should ever deserve, and yet - given freely. To him. By her. Eyes squeezed shut, he answered. All the demons help him, he answered in kind.
He shuddered, and held her closer. The flesh-and-blood fingers stroked the delicate nape of her neck (so little more than a child's, and yet - so much more). His other hand, oh so lightly, as much so as he could get feedback from the metal, moved down along her back - and then slid down between her legs, over the fabric of her underwear, sliding back and forth. She could get some of the pleasure of rubbing, too.
A deep breath. "Natalia... It - we are not prepared now to - come fully together, tonight. The next mission, I will get protection. But it is a bad idea without it. Do you... understand?" Words were difficult. But he was certain about this. The last thing they wanted, especially right now? Was her to get pregnant. (No child should be brought into this, and she was barely more than one, herself...)
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Her hips rocked now but with more purpose; her hands slid down his body to offer the same touch he did for her. It was new and it was fumbling but there was no hiding the quick pace of her breath or the heavy glaze of excitement in her eyes. She almost didn’t hear his words of caution, but eventually they made it through the swirling haze of her arousal. He wanted her, she could tell that much, but he was right. Evidence of their affair would be cause for punishment, if she were to actually fall pregnant it could mean death, perhaps for them both.
She groaned in frustration, wanting and being unable to have, it was such a tease. But... there were other ways were there not? “We cannot fully be together, you are right. But please, let me see you? Touch you. James, please.” The tone was almost a plea, so very nearly begging him. Natalia desperately wanted to share something, if not the act itself. She could be satisfied with that she thought.
She fell forward again, her lips and teeth at his throat as her hands worked to free him of his shirt. Buttons shed with careful efficiency, not one ripped or torn as he would need to be presentable at a moment’s notice. She bared his chest and ran hands along it, slender fingers tracing the lines of muscle and bone, carefully playing over scars and bruises with loving softness. And then her hands moved lower.
She moaned into his throat, lips vibrating against the skin as her hands moved down to feel him. The solid heat of his reaction to her; god it was exciting. Her hands fumbled on the belt, the button, the zip, all too loud and too slow for her taste. She had to feel him without the barriers, to know his passion for her was something she could stoke and more importantly something she could bring to climax.
Warm dainty hands dipped under his garments and found him. Thick and hard and smooth like the silk shawl she’d been given for being a good recruit. She stopped kissing his neck and now just panted against it; marveling at the maleness of him. “My god James, you’re perfect.”