Guns and Ammunition [] TFATWS

Four

Chapter Four:

At one am Bucky knocked on her door, three loud rasps against the wood. Josephine rose from her couch, soundlessly making her way to the door. She held an umbrella in one hand as she peaked into the little peep hole, sighing with relief when Bucky's face popped up on the other side. She unlocked her door, opening it all the way with a confused look on her face.

"I thought you'd be out all night." She told him, motioning him inside. He obeyed, getting to the living room before pausing. It occurred to her that he had never been inside her apartment, "Did it go alright?"

"I left early."

Josephine frowned, padding over to the couch where she fell back onto the cushions. Re-runs of The Office played on the TV, she grabbed the remote and clicked mute. Bucky looked upset, more so than usual. "Why?"

He shrugged, "I guess I'm not good at the whole dating thing."

"Did she not like you?" Her brows furrowed, "If so, she was never good enough for you in the first place."

"No, no." He couldn't help but chuckle, even in the state he found himself in. "It was me, I ran out."

"Are you alright?"

He nodded, "I think so. Yes."

Josephine watched as he met her concerned gaze, "Are you still up for ice cream brownies?"

"Always." She told him, a smile on her face as he lead her out of her apartment. She grabbed her keys from the small entry table and locked the door behind her before racing to catch up with him. He had his door already open as she slipped in behind him, clicking the lock in place. It was cold in his apartment, the window open in the living room causing the curtains to dance in the breeze. She was in sweatpants and a tank top, her normal pyjama attire.

"Have you always lived in Brooklyn?" Bucky questioned, puttering to the kitchen. She followed him, pausing at the small island. She stood on the other side, tapping at the granite.

"No. I was born in Greece, but we moved to Canada when I was five and then moved here when I was fifteen."

He nodded, digging through the freezer. He pulled out a large tub of vanilla ice cream, placing it on the counter with a dull thud.

"How about you?"

"Born and raised." He said, grabbing ahold of the box of brownies on the other side of the kitchen. "I've been here a long, long time."

Josephine pursed her lips, watching as he popped open the box. "How old are you?"

The stories he told, he always made it sound like he'd been alive forever. He was looking at her, face serious as he answered.

"106."

She snorted, "Well, you look really good for 106."

"Thank you."

She couldn't tell if he was joking, he seemed completely serious. "I'm 28." She added, "So, just a tad bit younger than you."

She watched as he pried open the tub, finding a spoon and jabbing it into the frozen ice cream. Josephine snorted, "It's probably easier without gloves."

Bucky paused, pursing his lips as he hesitantly peeled off the leather gloves and placed them folded on the counter. He gripped the spoon easier, scooping a ball onto the large square of brownie. She assumed they would cut pieces, but he was going for all of it as he added a few more dollops. "Do you want any syrups? They make so many kinds now, last time I was out I bought one of each."