A/N: Sorry about the wait on this one! I did some rewriting to make it a bit more interesting. I actually never had any thought to publish this story so it was written more for my own entertainment so I never worried about a lot of important things when I first got it down on paper. Hopefully this chapter is good: I didn't really proofread! Wanted to get it out to y'all sooner rather than later :)

Thanks so much for reading!

Lots of love,

Winnie

One quick internet search and you'll get thousands—no, millions—of articles, documentaries, and books about the lives of the Avengers. None of these results will quite accurately describe what it's like to live in the tower with the lot of them. And most certainly none of the NY Times posts or Washington Post pieces will provide the experience that I'm in now: squeezed on a bean bag chair in an overheated TV room and stuffed between Captain America's and Falcon's sweaty bodies while we wait for Iron Man to get the goddamn movie started.

"Come on, Stark!"

"Hey!" Tony yelps in response to Pietro's impatience. "You try unjamming a DVD player in the dark and see how easy it is."

"How can you manage to lead the world's most successful technology corporation but somehow still get flustered by an outdated Blu-Ray player?" I question around a mouthful of popcorn. Steve snorts happily beside me.

"Shut up, shorty. No one asked you." Tony points to me with the end of a remote.

I shrug.

The door at the back of the theater room can be heard creaking open. There's only three Avengers not present now—Thor and Peter being two of them, and they're both at their respective homes—so I know it's got to be my man who comes ambling in.

"Did I miss anything?"

Sam shakes his head at Bucky's voiced question. "Nah, just a bit of an Iron Man breakdown in response to a shoddy DVD player." He snatches a handful of my popcorn to reward himself for the clever comment.

Bucky easily maneuvers his way around everyone's bean bag chairs. Wanda and Vision sit near the back in theirs while Pietro and Clint take turns bothering each other from their neighboring spots. Nat and Bruce lounge on their stomachs near the center of the room. Pepper's even here, too. She's saving Tony's spot but looks as if she's planning to get up and help him before he starts a temper tantrum.

Bucky comes to stand over me. I smile up at him—the glare from the low lights nearly blinding me through my glasses, but I know he still looks good. Bucky chuckles firstly then huffs—not sounding very pleased.

"Will you two assholes move? You haven't left me any room."

Wilson shrugs but doesn't make an effort to scoot. Steve doesn't either. "Sorry, man. Maybe you should sit somewhere else."

Bucky's frown deepens. "She's my girlfriend, Wilson. And you're looking too damn cozy for my liking." Well, Bucky's not too far from the truth. Sam's gotten pretty close to me in the last few minutes. He's even got an arm strung up behind the back of my bean bag.

"Maybe we can share her?" Sam jokes with a chuckle. I laugh along—only finding it funnier as Bucky gets madder. His fists clench.

"Come on, babe," I giggle and reach up to grab Bucky's wrist. His metal fingers instantly relax at my touch. I coax him closer to the floor. "There's plenty of room." I nudge Sam away with my bare foot and shimmy around so that Steve's forced to wiggle aside. "See?" I smile at Bucky.

Bucky only huffs. His nostrils flare. Instead of taking the spot between me and Sam like I assume he'll do, he grabs me by the waist. Easily I'm lifted onto his awaiting lap. His strong arms lock me down into his embrace—my back flush to his washboard-ab chest. Even with the back of my head facing him I don't miss the short glare he shoots at Sam.

Cheers from the others force my attention elsewhere. Looks like Pepper has stepped in to get the DVD started. We've had this movie marathon going on for a few weeks now. Both Steve and Bucky have major gaps in their modern knowledge, so I suggested we start filling them in with the classics. It all began with the Star Wars series. Then there was Rocky, When Harry Met Sally, Pulp Fiction, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, and now: Grease. I of course am very excited for this pick. It's one of my favorites.

As the movie's starting up and people grow quieter, I hear Bucky whispering, "You sure do look pretty tonight, doll."

I close my eyes and drown in the feeling of his kiss to the warmed skin beneath my ear. I lace my fingers over his that are tightly holding onto my waist. His arms move to wrap around me—further tugging me into his lap.

Through the film I'm constantly deflecting the good-girl Sandy jokes that everyone keeps throwing my way. Then I'm blushing when Nat shuts them all down with, "Oh please—like we haven't all seen the hickey's she's left all over Barnes. Good girl Sandy my ass." I cover my face with both hands as my body rumbles with the deep chuckles Bucky's radiating. Where I'm embarrassed, he's just happy that there's another reminder that I belong to him and no one else.

Grease has always been one of my favorite films. I've seen it so many times it should really come as no surprise when I fall asleep near the end. Bucky's just so comfortable... I feel so warm and safe in his arms. At the end of a long week with dress fittings for the wedding, work, and family drama—all it takes is another slow song and Bucky's steady heartbeat against my back to fall asleep against his chest.

I'm not even fully aware that this is what's happened until the next morning when I wake up in bed. I look down to myself to see that I've been shimmied out of my jeans and placed delicately under the covers. I rub my face, still full of makeup, and groan at the sunlight that's managed to slip through the curtains. I sit up straight to see that there's a note written for me on the bedside table.

Good morning, doll. Hope you don't mind I brought you up to bed after you feel asleep during the movie.

You're damn cute when you sleep, by the way.

I'll pick you up for our lunch date at noon. I'll be thinking of ya till then.

James

With a stifled yawn I roll out of bed. Thank god it's only eight—I've still got time to shower before I'm supposed to be downstairs cooking. I send a quick good-morning text to Bucky before readying myself for the day. I know I won't see him until he picks me up for our date later. He's got some appointments and meetings in the morning to keep him from eating breakfast with Tony and the others in the Common per routine. I'm just grateful that lunchtime isn't in my daily list of duties. Of course sometimes I break and find myself cooking to order for my friends, but other than that it's usually just breakfast, dinner, and dessert that I'm expected to prepare.

The first person I see is Pietro. He's never patient enough to wait for the announcement that meals are ready. He usually hangs around to be the very first to get a plate. He actually beats me to the kitchen today, which shouldn't really surprise me since he's got that whole super speed thing going for him.

"Good morning, Piet. How's it going?" I quickly fix myself a cup of coffee before digging around the fridge.

Pietro's sitting on the counter watching the TV from the next room. "Pretty good, Sadie. You?"

"Doing good, kid. Thanks." I hesitate before grabbing the carton of eggs. "Should we have bacon or sausage with our fried eggs today?"

"Bacon! For sure."

I laugh softly at his enthusiasm. "Sounds good."

It only takes another thirty minutes for the others to arrive. Steve and Sam show up together, of course. Then Tony comes by with Bruce and Nat's only thirty seconds behind them. Wanda's decided to oversleep today and Vision is nowhere to be seen. If anyone else finds this suspicious, nothing is said on the matter. I make a mental note to question the girl about it later.

The TV plays clips from breaking news all around the world. Everyone pays some amount of attention to it as they serve up and eat; some more than others. I'm hardly paying the droning reporters' voices any mind while I clean up.

I feel someone's hand on my back. It's been softly put there to gain my attention without startling me, so I turn around to smile at whoever has come. It's Tony. He's there in his expensive jeans and dark blue t-shirt. Steam from his hot espresso drink has fogged up his glasses. "Can we talk?"

A lump forms in my throat. I nod. Then I let him lead me to a slightly quieter corner of the kitchen—just outside of it in the hallway. I lean against the wall with anxiety coursing through my rapidly pumping heart. Is he going to fire me? What have I done wrong? Is this about the soufflé I ruined yesterday? I hadn't thought it was that big of a deal when I had to do a quick menu change...

"Relax, kid. You don't have to look so scared."

I nod, but still don't feel totally convinced.

Tony smirks at me but there doesn't seem to be a lot of depth behind the gesture. Then the smile disappears and he's back to business. "I heard about your dad."

I frown. "Oh." Honestly I'm not surprised. Word travels fast in this damn tower. If Bucky told Steve, then Steve could've told Tony. Or Nat could've said something to Banner and then Banner to Tony. Or maybe Wanda got farther in my head and felt the need to tell someone, probably picking Vision, who cannot keep a secret from Tony to save his life. Whatever the course, the story ends up at the same place: Tony Stark standing in front of me in the halls of his tower telling me he knows my deepest, darkest secret.

"Don't be embarrassed. We all have shitty backstories." Tony's smirk makes another quick cameo. "I'm not here to hash out feelings with you—I'll leave that part to Barnes. But I've got a lawyer and you've got a damn good case for a restraining order if that's something you want to do."

"It's a complicated process..."

"Sure, but you wouldn't have to worry about a thing," Tony interrupts. "My people could get it all figured out. After they're done, he'll be too scared to contact you or your family. And if he does, well, there'll be consequences that I'm sure any of our agents would be happy to fulfill."

I can't keep myself from smiling. "Would you really do that for me?"

Tony looks at me as if I'm the daftest creature he's ever seen. "Why not? You're a good kid, Sadie. And I know Steve's kinda annoying about the whole "Family Bond" thing, but he's right—and you're part of it." I want to coo at how huge my heart has swelled at Tony's sweetness. He must sense this, because then he's coming back at it with his signature sass. "Besides, I expect a cake or something in return. I've been craving red velvet."

I smile. "Cream cheese frosting?"

"Duh."

Tony huffs in slight surprise as I've come to hug him. "Thanks, Tony."

It takes him a few moments to respond, but then he's patting my shoulder and laughing softly. "Sure, sport. Don't mention it." He pauses before adding, "We've all got your back."

Then Tony and I head back into the kitchen where breakfast can be finished up and I can clean in time to watch the last few minutes of the morning news back in my room. Noon rolls around a few hours later. It sounds ridiculous since we practically live together (meaning we see each other almost all the time) but I'm just dying to see Bucky again. I'm absolutely smitten for that man, let me tell you: a totally smitten kitten.

He doesn't even knock at my door when he shows up a few minutes after 12: just waltzing right on in because I told Friday not to keep it locked when it comes to Bucky.

"Hey doll," Bucky hums as he breaks the threshold. He lets out a rumbling chuckle when he sees the mess I've got going on in my apartment kitchen. "What the hell are ya cooking up now?"

"Red velvet," I explain. I hold up a spoon with the back covered in cream cheese frosting. "For Stark."

Bucky takes the sample spoon from me, sucking on it quietly, as I turn to set another stack of dishes into the sink. His blue eyes follow my movements closely. When I catch him staring he only smirks.

"He, uh, made me a really nice offer today, actually." I glance upwards at Bucky while I start cleaning up. The smell of warm chocolate floats around the air. Seeing that I'm on to the cleaning stage, Bucky jumps up to help.

"Oh yeah? And what was that, sweetie?" Bucky goes to the sink to start with the dishes. It's funny that he wears the dishwashing gloves with the pink flowers: even on his metal hand. I think he only does this because he knows I secretly find it entertaining.

"He's gonna help me get a restraining order against my dad, I think."

"Good; that's real good." Bucky nods while scrubbing dishes. "We have to do something." He glances back at me over his broad shoulder. "You know, my offer still stands..." A sideways, easy smile tugs at his lip that's slightly shadowy with beard hair.

"Your offer to shoot him?" I chuckle. "Very romantic, Buck, but I think it's a bit too messy of a solution to my already messy problem."

Bucky chuckles, "Just kidding," even though we both know that he really wasn't. If I asked him to go out tonight and shoot my dad dead he'd have already grabbed his gun and been on his way. Hell, there's not really anything in this world Bucky wouldn't do for me at the drop of hat. I could ask him to jump and he'd ask how high: I'd ask him to kill someone for me and his only question would be who.

For a fleeting moment I actually consider what would happen if I asked Bucky to do it. Kill my dad, I mean. Could I? Would I, is the question?

No, I can't... I can't. What my father did to me-- his abusive nature and cruel tendencies-- were evil, but I won't stoop to his level.

"Let's talk about something different." I shake my head of the thoughts of my dad.

"Okay, babe. How about lunch: where do you wanna eat?" Bucky finishes with the last dish. He sets the cup on the drying rack before slipping off the soggy gloves and walking closer. I'm at the oven, readying to take out the cake rounds, when Bucky softly lays a hand on my shoulder and reaches past with his metal hand to help me out.

"There's this killer sandwich place next to Laurie's place. I was thinking maybe I could take you there. I think you'll like it. They have good roast beef, and I know how you are about your roast beef."

Bucky laughs because he knows it's true. He's ridiculously picky when it comes to beef, for some quirky reason. "You know me too well, Schatz."

My phone starts chiming from the corner of the counter. I lean over to grab it, seeing Laurie's name, and say, "Speak of the she-devil and she shall appear." Then I answer her call. "Hey girly."

"Sadie, I'm freaking the fuck out." The anxiety in her voice is palpable. I can picture her pacing circles in her room while Nate watches nervously.

"What? Why?" I stop to lean against the fridge. The coolness seeps through the back of my t-shirt and relaxes me only slightly. I have a feeling whatever it is she's going to say won't be good, but you never know with her: she has a tendency to be dramatic. "Is this something about the wedding?"

"No, no!"

"Okay, okay. Calm down and tell me." I make eyes at Bucky and he gets the hint combined with my words and tone. He comes over to lean his ear closer: curious.

"I was at work, right? Okay so Nate has the day off because he's been feeling kinda sick lately, and he was just sitting around on his ass all day watching jeopardy and..."

"The point, Laurie," I interject patiently. While also dramatic, my best friend has a bad habit of rambling.

"Right! Okay, so I got a weird call from Nate from home, 'cause I'm at work now you know, and he said some random guy was trying to get up to our floor. He told the front desk he knew you and was trying to get up. He got angry and eventually they called Nate and so Nate told him you didn't live here anymore and the guy got pissed and started cussing and yelling. Nate described him to me and I just know that it's your dad. Your dad is in New York and he's fucking looking for you, Sadie."

I don't even know what to say. And if I did, I'm not sure if I could get the words to come stumbling out of my gaping mouth. Bucky's still listening to the conversation with wide eyes set strictly on me. He waits for a reaction but I have absolutely none. I've gone numb.

"Sade? Sadie? What's going on? Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah," I finally manage to stutter. "I-- I'm just in shock, I guess. I didn't... I don't... He's here? Nate's sure?"

"He doesn't know your dad but I do. And that guy he was describing was one hundred percent your father. I told Nate to tell the lobby people that if he comes back to call the police."

"He won't go back," Bucky chimes. There's a deep gnarl in his brow as he pushes away from the fridge and leans against the sink. "He knows you're not there. He'll try to contact you again, then maybe show up here." He turns to face me. "I don't know how dedicated he is, but if he's desperate he'll come. Only a crazy man would."

"Is that Barnes talking?" Laurie asks.

"Yeah," I reply. "And he's both crazy and dedicated."

"More like dedicated to being a fucking crazy lunatic," Laurie rewords.

"True." I pinch the bridge of my nose as my head is spinning and I just want to get off of this damn merry go round ride. "Thanks for telling me, Laurie."

"What are you going to do?"

"I... I don't know." I sigh. "There's nothing I can do. It's the same thing he did with my brother a few years back. If he wants to find me he will. He's going to..."

"He's not doing anything," Bucky pipes up. He shakes his head and comes closer once more. "That's for damn sure."

"I don't know what your boyfriend just said, but I could hear the tone of his voice and I like it. So whatever he said, I agree."

I almost want to laugh. "Laurie can I call you back?"

"Call me whenever. I'm here for you."

I smile. "I know you are. Love you."

"Back at you," Laurie replies before hanging up the line.

Before I can say anything at all, or even set down my phone, Bucky's wrapped his arms around me. He pulls me into his chest so hard that my nose gets pressed into his neck and all I can do is breathe in the smell of his cologne.

"He's not getting to you," Bucky mumbles into my hair. I feel him press a soft kiss there before he pulls away.

"Don't you see?" I wiggle out of Bucky's arms. "He already has. This was his point. Even if he never sees me in person, he only came to wedge himself back in my head. He finds one of us happy and he just wants to destroy it. That's what he did with Jeremy when he got engaged. It's what he did to Bekah when she graduated college. It's what he does. And now it's my turn: I'm happy and he's going to make me so self conscious and scared that I'll ruin it myself. He won't even have to lift a damn finger."

It's only after I've finished my rant that I notice the prickling tears in the corners of my eyes. I rub at them with the back of my hand until they're gone and not spilling out onto my cheeks. I don't want Bucky to see me cry: I don't want to look weak.

"He's not going to destroy anything because you're too strong to let that happen: with or without me," Bucky speaks slowly at first to help rein in my attention. I'm pretty deep in my own thoughts. Once he's sure he has it he goes on at regular speed. "There's nothing he can do to hurt you now. Not in your life: you're too strong. And if he ever makes a move to get even a fraction of an inch closer to you," Bucky steps over to grab my wrists, "I'm gonna put him in the goddamn ground."

Stiffly I swallow. A nod takes over my head very slowly as his words sink in. Maybe he's right: maybe I have nothing to be afraid of anymore. But I'd spent my whole life being scared of this man, so the thought that I no longer have to is startling.

"Okay, sweetheart?" the intensity that was just in his blue eyes has reverted to something soft and sweet again: like blue raspberry cotton candy on a sunny summer day. His hands, both the skin and metal, run soothingly up and down my arms. The look of dedication in his eyes is overwhelming. I've never had anyone look at me like this: not ever. There's anger there with sadness, but mainly love. Love for me.

"O-okay." I manage a small smile up at him while he nods.

"Good," he sighs. He leans over to kiss the top of my head before I tilt my chin up. He gets the hint. Our lips brush lightly before I stand on my toes to press into him harder. His hands grip my biceps while I keep my fingers tangled in the fabric of his loose shirt. There's nothing better in this world than the taste of Bucky Barnes, I've long since decided. It's such a sweet flavor that nothing sour could ever survive through it.

"Can we get lunch now?" I mumble against his mouth.

Bucky chuckles. "Alright, doll. How about we order takeout instead? Stay home." He doesn't have to elaborate on the idea for me to already know that going to the place right next to the apartments where my dad was last seen is a bad idea. Bad for many reasons: one of them being if Bucky was to see him, we'd have a dead man on our hands. And it wouldn't be pretty, not to mention it'd be public.

"Okay, you gotta call it in though."

Bucky smiles. "Anything for you." He presses another quick kiss to my mouth before stepping back. Out of his back pocket he fishes out his cell. I catch a quick glimpse of his lock screen, smiling stupidly. It's a picture of me of all things. "What do you want?"

"Chinese. Our usual, please." I start for my bedroom, saying, "I'm gonna change into some comfy clothes and be right back."

"Okay," Bucky's looking down at his contacts trying to find our favorite Chinese restaurant's name.

I don't bother to shut my door as I go rifling around for some sweatpants. It's so dark though that I can hardly see anything.

"Friday, open the blinds please."

Let there be light! The room floods with warmth and immediately makes me feel better. That's when I spot my favorite pair of sweats on my laundry pile in the corner. I smile, going closer, when I take a glance out the window.

My heart stops cold. For outside, beneath my bedroom window all those floors down, is a sight against the sidewalk. Written out in messy red chalk is a phrase that makes my stomach weak:

You can't hide from me, Sadie.