It seems that Tony was excited to meet James. He said it was something to do with getting dirt on Steve from when he was just a skinny little dork, which would make me wonder if he understands how friendship works. Personally, I think Tony was trying to cover up the fact that he was glad that Steve has someone from his past and won't be so alone anymore. But don't tell Tony that I suspect he does have a heart under his little nightlight.

Things went so well that they talked about making James something like a part time member of the Avengers- kind of like probation. I'm not entirely sure if this is a good thing or not. It'll be good for James to be out and have some self-determination back in his life. But he'll be fighting again. I just hope it doesn't constantly remind him of what he was doing for Hydra or make him feel like fighting is all he's good for.

But I know that Steve and James will take care of each other. And we'll still have our movie night; which is nice. I'll see less of both of them though. It makes me glad that Carson is a better friend now than he was.

James has invited me to tag along for his workout session at the training room in the Avenger Tower tonight. I'm not really sure why though. He can't want me as a sparring partner, unless he needs a confidence boost or something. The others are out on missions, business, or personal matters, so he'll be there by himself, but he isn't the kind of guy who can't handle being alone once in a while. Nevertheless, my own plans for tonight consist of a tub of cookie dough ice cream and some of my favorite episodes of Star Trek: TNG– it might be my subconscious' way of telling me I need a pick-me-up –so I agree to "tag along".

The training room is not a room. It's stinking huge – multiple floors high and nearly the circumference of the building. There's a boxing cage, some machines similar to what you'd see in a normal gym but "Starkified", and there are several things that I have no idea what they do. I suppose they're specialized for the members of the team who have abilities beyond the average human.

James starts on something similar to a treadmill, but instead of just moving straight forward, it shifts directions abruptly, and even elevation, keeping the runner on their toes. Something like this would most likely kill me, but James uses it as a warm up. This is a stark reminder (ha, that was 'p-unintentional') that he is not, well, normal. Seeing him in action, even doing something so basic for him, is kind of amazing. I've seen news footage of the team fighting baddies, except for Nat and Clint who SHIELD keeps out of the public eye, but I guess I forget that James can kick evil tail with the rest of them.

He's been running for several minutes, chatting a bit as he does and his little pony tail bobbing with every step, when he tells me that I should hop on one of the regular treadmills to warm up.

"Why do I need to warm up?" I wore yoga pants and a tshirt, but that was because those are comfy, not because I was expecting to sweat.

James grins at my skepticism. "Because I want to see what you've got."

"Or I could just tell you – not much."

Still not even breathing hard, he says, "Now, I know that isn't true."

I absently put my hand over the scar on my arm. "Steve told you about the mugger?"

He increases his speed several notches and I see him clench his jaw. "Natasha did. Mentioned that she and Clint haven't worked with you in a while. Why didn't you work with Steve?"

I look away, a little embarrassed. "I didn't want to bug him- Nat and Clint had offered their help. But I don't need someone to 'work with me' anyway." I cross my arms. "I'm not training to be an agent, I'm a contented employee of the public library. I know enough self-defense to protect myself from the average bear- sorry, 'average Joe'."

James glances at my scar. "Maybe I need to show you how to not get in over your head."

I stop myself from grinding my teeth – my parents put a lot of money into my braces through high school. "Did Nat also mention the part where I kicked his butt? I wasn't in over my head, just...sloppy. But I don't plan on being a hero again, so no worries on that front."

"So, if you saw, someone get attacked again, you'd just walk away?" He asks, pausing for breath as the increased speed catches up to him.

Shifting uncomfortably, I look away. "Depends on if that someone is Tony."

James stumbles for a step or two as he tries to stop a snort. "Point is, you'll help people, if you can. So we should, make sure you, don't get hurt, in the process."

I huff. "I only intervened because I forgot my phone. I'll just get a lanyard or something so that doesn't happen again. Satisfied?"

He shuts the treadmill-like thing down and hops off. "No. I want to see, what you've got. If you want me to leave you alone, show me." It's disgusting how quickly he catches his breath again.

"Fine," I grumble, stalking towards the boxing cage. "But it isn't the same with someone like you, who's, you know, really good. It's defense against an average person since I most likely won't be in a situation to go against any other kind. It was pretty poor against Nat and Clint and they don't have serum-y power-ups."

"I'll keep that in mind." James opens the door to the ring and waits for me to step through.

I hesitate. "You could just come to one of my classes," I offer. This will be so embarrassing.

"Nah. I like this better." His smugness is palpable.

"If I do this, you'll drop it?" I ask as I put a foot on the first step.

"Sure." We step into the ring and he adds, "for today."

"Cheater!" I gasp as I turn around because there's a flash of metal flying towards my face. I deflect his punch, not trying to slow it, just changing its trajectory as I step to the side in the opposite direction.

"Nice reflexes," James says simply as he moves again this time with a kick to my stomach.

I again push his strike to the side as I turn out of the way, letting his foot drop to the ground beside me.

"Come on. Don't just deflect." He grabs my left wrist with his right hand. "Give me a reason to stop." He tugs me to him, turning me so my back is to his chest and his right arm is around me, still gripping my wrist in front of me.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't. I'm tougher than I look." He squeezes me tighter, not hurting me, but almost.

"Ugh. You might be a super, but you still smell after that treadmill."

I feel him bow head towards me in his light laughter. I take the opportunity to stomp on his foot while throwing my head back into his nose. His grip on my wrist loosens and I use my other hand to lever his thumb off. I step out and twist around to face him, trying to get him in an arm bar. But he's too fast and pulls himself away.

"Not bad," he condescends with a sniff, and I see a small trickle of blood drip from his nose.

"James!" I gasp and step towards him. "You're bleeding!"

He smacks my hands away from his face. "It happens. Well, not usually. That was pretty good, actually. You got me off guard and took advantage of it."

"Yeah, and made you bleed!" I put my hands up again. "Let me look."

"You're not going to look up my nose." He brushes me off again. "It was minor, already stopped bleeding." James swipes his hand under his nose to show me. There isn't any fresh blood dripping, so I take a step back.

"Well, good."

He nods. "But you'll only get the drop on me once. Come on, let's go again." He resumes his offensive stance.

This continues for maybe an hour, him attacking in different variations and me deflecting and occasionally striking back. He was obviously holding back a lot, even so, he had to pull several strikes from landing their mark because I couldn't block or evade them in time. I'm panting and disgusting by the end of it and he isn't even sweating. It's enough to make me spit. We're cooling down by walking a couple of laps around the room – okay I'm cooling down and he's keeping me company.

When I get my breath back enough to speak, I ask him, "Why did you really want me to come with you tonight?"

"What do you mean?"

"The 'see what you've got' thing was clearly not why you wanted me here. You didn't once comment on my form or demonstrate any alternatives."

He shrugs and faces forward. "You looked sad."

I falter slightly, stupidly surprised. "I-I wasn't...maybe a little."

"You wanna...talk, about it...?" he asks, unsure.

My heart warms at the fact that the guy more uncomfortable with talking about personal stuff than anyone I know (other than Natasha, perhaps), is asking about my feelings. Since I don't want him to think something dire is bothering me, I say as nonchalantly as I can, "I'm not being a good friend, to Steve at least, but I'm um, I'm working on it."

We continue in silence for a moment before James says, "I don't think it makes you a bad friend."

I shake my head. "It's just that he's finally found someone wh- wait," I catch myself. "W-What are you talking about, exactly?" Am I really so transparent? Does Steve see it too?

"You have...feelings, for him. More than just as a friend."

I sputter. "No, I-I..." I've been lying to myself for so long that this response is automatic. "Why does it seem that I, that I like him? In that way, I mean," I ask, curious about how to shore up my façade.

James takes a half-second to wet his lips. "The way you look at him, talk about him. But mostly it's whenever he mentions Kate or dating and you tend to freak out and run away in a very suspicious and eye-catching manner."

My face is about a bazillion degrees and my chest constricts around my lungs.

'Hello mild panic attack. So nice to see you again.'

"I-I uh, guess I've never been very good at stoicism." After swallowing thickly, I continue, "I've tried telling myself that it's just a stupid little crush on my best friend, that it's a thing that happens to lots of people; that it doesn't mean anything and it'll go away soon. That was a year and a half ago. I know I should feel happy that he's found someone that makes him happy...but, I can't. It just makes me feel sick whenever I think about it. And I know that's awful. I know I'm being horribly selfish...but I can't change how I feel...I've tried."

James rests his hand comfortingly on my upper back as we slow to a stop.

"Does Steve know?" I ask softly, not sure if I want an answer.

James nearly snorts. "No. He's not the best at reading this kind of thing." I nod, reassured for a moment before he continues, "You should tell him."

My eyes widen of their own accord. "Why on earth would I do that?"

"He's your best friend. Don't you think he deserves to know how you really feel about him? And he should know that he's hurting you, especially since it's unintentional."

I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut. "If you can see my feelings so easily, surely you would know as well as I, if not better, how Steve feels about me – I'm a convenient friend, nothing more. And that's okay- or it will be. He doesn't owe me something more than friendship; he doesn't even owe me that much. If Steve knew how I felt, it'd change things between us. I'm already being a stupid, piney Eponine; I won't put guilt or a burden on his shoulders that I know he can do nothing to change."

James sighs and while I can tell that he's annoyed with my response, he keeps his hand at my shoulder. "You really don't think it's better to tell your friend something this important?"

"Not when I know that telling him would only hurt him and do nothing to solve the problem. He's already in a relationship with someone else. And more than that he's, well, he's Steve and I'm just...me. He's so, so much more..." I lose my words and try again. "He deserves to be with someone who compliments who he is, who will help him grow and not hold him back. And, and I don't think that that person would be me."

"Shouldn't Steve be the one to decide who's good for him or not?" he asks, clearly frustrated and striving to keep his tone gentle.

I shake my head again and look to his icy blue eyes. "Please, James. I, I just can't. I'll tell him everything else – that he didn't notice while on a mission the My Little Pony magnets I'd left on his shield, or how I left you alone when you first came to the library, o-or even how I blame myself everyday for my parents' deaths – but please, don't make my stupid feelings be one more thing for him to worry about when he should be focused on his job and staying alive."

The muscles about James' jaw tighten and I know that what I said got to him. He sighs through his nose. "If this doesn't...go away, if you're still...feeling in a few months like you are now, you tell him. Or I will. Understand?"

I nod, relieved, and quickly wrap my arms around him. "Thank you, James," I murmur into his shoulder.

It takes him a moment, but he gently hugs me back.

"And thank you for distracting me and for talking with me. I know it isn't your favorite."

His chest hums against my ear as he gives a short laugh. "Not exactly, but it was in the fine print of the contract I signed when becoming a friend of Éowyn Anne Johnson."

"Call me by my first name again and I will give you a wet willy." I pull away to see him looking amused. "Get with the program, Barnes. You're supposed to look slightly put off by my threat, not amused!"

He grins. "On a scale of unpleasant things that ranges from wearing socks without elastic to being an unwilling assassin for Hydra, a wet willy ranks just below pouring yourself a bowl of cereal before finding out you don't have any milk."

"Well it's about as maniacal as I get. You should at least pretend to be perturbed. Wasn't that in the friendship contract?"

James shakes his head, still grinning.

"I'd like to go over our contract at the end of the season, maybe negotiate some adjustments before renewal?"

"Sorry. Once I've signed, that's it. No negotiating or getting out of it, friends for life."

≈o≈

After James leaves to get cleaned up, I ask JARVIS to please review our conversation to determine if he could discern any threat to Tony or the others.

"No, Miss Éowyn," he answers after a few seconds.

"Great. So you have no reason to show anyone any audio or video files of the last twenty minutes, right?"

"Not until it is directly requested by Mr. Stark or someone with similar clearance, Miss Éowyn."

"Right. If Tony or anyone else asks if anything interesting happened, please just show them me giving James a bloody nose. Our conversation was personal and unless very specifically requested, please don't play it for anyone."

"Yes, Miss Éowyn."

---------------------------------------------

A/N: Ta-dah? Do you like how I'm not even touching the Civil War storyline with 99 1/2 foot pole? Yeah, not interested in bawling whilst I write about some of my favorite characters, thank you very much. We're just going to pretend that everyone gets along well-enough to still be a team. Because this is fanfiction and we can do that.

So, I love writing Bucky. Like, a lot. He's too much fun, even when he's being a little burrito of emotions.

Also, the gif has literally nothing to do with the chapter. Again. It's just some majestic Winter Soldier goodness.

Anyway.

Tune in tomorrow for a sharp left turn in our story! Same bat-time, same bat-channel!

Whoa. Adam West, is that you?

But really, you may find the next chapter a little jarring. So, for the one or two people who bother to read the author's note: you've been warned.