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Yelena was laughing. That was the first thing Bucky noticed when he walked into the kitchen that morning.
That raspy sound of joy that Bucky had only heard once before—at Walker’s expense when he tripped and fell over Bob’s pile of recently purchased books sitting on the living room floor. Yelena, who’d been cautiously hovering in the tower for a week, unsure whether she should be there (as an Avenger, no less.) had doubled over and wheezed over the kitchen counter as Walker made an incredibly undignified sound when he hit the polished floor.
Bucky had watched from the sidelines, leaning on the floor-to-ceiling windows that Valentina had sent to be fixed just a few days prior, unable to keep his expression neutral as Walker jumped up awkwardly and blustered at Yelena’s uncontrollable laughing fit.
A few moments later, Walker stormed out, blushing furiously and Yelena resumed unpacking the groceries they’d received, courtesy of Valentina. She’d giggled to herself a few more times as she moved around the kitchen. Bucky’s gaze followed her movements, Yelena’s raspy laugh echoing in his ears even after it was long gone.
Yelena turned to him, meeting his eyes. No doubt had she felt his stare. He knew firsthand how capable Red Room assassins were, yet he still felt a jolt when she met his unwavering gaze with one of her own. It’d been some time since he’d been in close quarters with someone with his same specific skill set and he hadn’t been sent to eliminate them. It remained to be seen how Bucky felt about that fact.
Her lips quirked into a smug smirk, grabbing a can of tomato concentrate out of the bag, she asked “Are you going to help or are you going to keep standing there and brood?”
Bucky felt tempted to laugh but he tamped it down, sighing, he pushed himself off the window and joined her. Yelena nodded in self-satisfaction as he rounded the corner, passed the counter and opened a tall shelf over his shorter teammate. He frowned at the word.
His time in the Howling Commandos was the only memory he had of being part of a team, a real one. He and Steve were never a team. He’d been Captain America’s best friend, not his teammate. Same for Sam. They weren’t a team. Partners maybe. Though his current situation with America’s new Captain seemed to undermine that statement.
Bucky was pulled back from his thoughts when Yelena’s hand waved in his face. He reared back and turned to her, blinking. She gave him a short, guilty smile. “Sorry, you spaced out. Could you put those up there?” Yelena gestured to the packets of spice in her hand.
Bucky nodded mutely, taking the packets from her outstretched hand, careful not to touch her fingers. Yelena’s gaze followed the calculated movement, then turned back to the grocery bags, she handed him more things to put away and moved to start filling the fridge.
Bucky noted with some surprise that she didn’t try to fill the silence like he’d expected her to. In the short time he knew Yelena Belova, Bucky learned she was very talkative for a Widow.
Even in the couple of days they’d worked together against Valentina, it was clear she was the glue that kept the edges of this fraying team together. As unnatural as it was for them, Walker and Ava were unconsciously turning to Yelena as the leader of this whole thing. Alexei followed her orders easily. Though it was obvious why. And Bob did whatever she told him to do, watching her a little like she hung the moon.
Bucky wondered if he should be concerned about that. Though he understood, Yelena Belova had a way of pulling people into her orbit, willingly or not. She spoke a lot though, making quips and throwing out orders that the others followed easily. Bucky frowned, a little affronted that the blonde was so good at reading the room and acting accordingly. Here she was, saying nothing, and yet Bucky felt more at ease now than he had in a week.
They worked fluidly to fill the cupboards with the endless supplies that Valentina had sent their way, moving around in the kitchen without so much as one accidental touch. As much as Bucky wanted to give the C.I.A director a good nose cracking, he had to admit she knew how to provide for a superhero team.
Eventually, when every cupboard and drawer threatened to spill open with food packagings and other, Yelena surveyed their work with her hands on her hips as Bucky stuffed the grocery bags in a drawer. She smiled fleetingly.
Bucky turned back to her, rolling his lips and nodding slowly. God, why was he so awkward? Yelena’s lips pulled into an amused smirk and she parted them, no doubt to make some comment on his inability to act like a normal human being, when Bob called her name from the corridor, asking something about guinea pig food.
Yelena kept her gaze on Bucky’s even as she yelled back to Bob, telling him she’d be right there.
She turned and walked towards the corridor, though not before she gave Bucky a cheeky smile, “This was fun, Buck.”
It had been on the tip of his tongue to tell her off, barring her from using the nickname again. And yet, all Bucky managed to do as he watched Yelena walk away, was blink.
Yeah, the team thing was going to be hard to get used to.
Now, Yelena was laughing. Though not as intensely as the first time. She slapped the counter, snickering at something Ava was saying. Even Walker was chuckling over the stovetop as he surveyed the pan, Bucky mused that the action made him look very domestic.
He approached, his hair was tousled from sleep, yet he was entirely alert as he made his way to the kitchen counter and sat down. His elbow bumped Yelena’s as she shoved eggs in her mouth. She gave him a quick eyebrow raise as a greeting and he returned the gesture. Walker slid him a plate piled with eggs, toast and avocado and he grunted out a ‘thanks’ before he began to dig in.
It’d been two months since the “New Avengers” had been announced to the world and they’d subsequently moved into the Watchtower. Bucky had done so begrudgingly. He had to cut the lease short on his D.C apartment. Though it wasn’t too much of a loss. D.C wasn’t his city. New York was.
Though he’d rather his move back wasn’t due to this disaster of a team, Bucky was still more than happy to come home. The Watchtower hadn’t been where he wanted to settle, but he wasn’t as unhappy with the move now, Bucky had still made sure to find an apartment in his old Brooklyn neighborhood. For emergencies, he told himself. Like if Walker’s loud chewing set off his nerves. Much had changed since the 40s, Brooklyn included, but Bucky wasn’t one to let go of a good thing, even if it wasn’t the same as it was.
Bob stepped into the room, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Morning.” He mumbled, nodding at Walker when he handed him a much smaller version of Bucky’s plate. Ava eyed the corridor that led to their room, only one teammate was missing now. She huffed, her English accent accentuated in the early morning. “If your father comes in screaming again, he’s getting tackled to the floor.”
Yelena snorted. The previous morning hadn’t been as peaceful as this one, with Alexei storming in the kitchen, brandishing his phone to them and yelling about the PR pictures they’d been forced to take the week before. In an effort to make them look like actual heroes with squeaky clean pasts and shiny teeth. Alexei, of course, had enjoyed it thoroughly. Every time Ava or Yelena would grumble throughout the photoshoot, Alexei would jump up and exclaim, “This is for the glory!”
That got old fast. Though not to the Russian super-soldier hopped up on misplaced optimism.
Now, when Alexei stomped into the room, Ava squinted at him, waiting.
“Good morning, team!” he boomed, Russian accent heavy in his energetic voice.
Bucky let out a heavy sigh and Yelena glanced at him from the corner of her vision, amused.