The Hurt And The Healing: Bucky X OC

Chapter Thirty Three: Apparently Grown Men Don't Do Feelings

After two hours of fighting, Mara wanted nothing more than a cold shower. As she walked back to her room she mentally ran through the lessons, trying to remember every little tip and trick that Bucky had taught her. The floor pinning was fresh in her mind, so she started at the beginning. Punching, blocking, kicking, it took her the whole walk back to her room to run through those. Remembering the wall pin filled the time it took for her to undress and get in the shower. And then she was in her nice, cold, refreshing shower.

When Mara returned to her room, wrapped in a robe and carefully drying her hair, Nonna was sitting on the bed waiting for her.

"Hi," Mara said, stopping in the doorway. "Do come in."

"Bah!" Nonna huffed, waving away Mara's sarcastic greeting. "I just came to see how training went. You stayed with James for a while after I left," she said more like a question than a statement. "What did you two get up to while I was gone?"

"He taught me what to do if I'm pinned on the ground," Mara answered, frowning at Nonna's tone. "After your comment he was worried."

"James worries very much about you," Nonna said sagely.

"He worries about everyone," Mara replied, walking past the bed to get her clothes.

"Not like he worries about you," she practically sang. Mara looked up at her and scowled. "Ah, you two are even starting to look the same!" Nonna teased.

"Don't make it weird," Mara warned, wagging her finger at the gleeful old woman.

"Weird? What's so weird about two young people becoming close?" Nonna asked innocently.

"He's not a young person," Mara reminded her. "He's literally seventy five years older than me." Why did she care what Nonna thought about her friendship with Bucky? They knew that they were friends. The old woman was just imagining things or trying to add some interest to her life. It didn't change how Mara and Bucky felt about each other.

"Bah! Age is but a number," Nonna said dismissively.

"A rather large number," Mara grumbled. She looked at Nonna who was making herself comfortable on the bed. "Are you going to leave, or do I need to go to the bathroom to change?"

"Fine," Nonna said with a shrug. She got up and headed towards the door. "You are allowed to be happy, you know," she added, pausing with her hand on the knob. "You mourned for twelve years. You are allowed to move on."

"Thank you, Nonna," Mara replied firmly, not leaving room for discussion. Nonna sighed and exited, leaving Mara standing alone.

As she got dressed and fixed her hair Mara thought about what Nonna had said. Or rather, not said. Bucky was a dear friend. Not that either of them would readily admit it, but still. They relied on each other, were honest with each other, supported each other. It had been ten years since Mara trusted someone new, even longer for him. For Nonna to think that there was anything more under the surface was juvenile. If a formerly brainwashed assassin turned vigilante and a not-quite-widowed doctor with anger issues couldn't be friends, then what was the world coming to?

Mara headed downstairs to where Sam, Zemo, and Bucky were arguing loudly. When she entered the room they went silent, staring at her like she was a ghost. Or about to become one.

"What?" Mara demanded, stopping in the doorway and crossing her arms.

"James was just expressing his concern at our timeframe," Zemo replied coolly. "He would rather we wait for Movoniv to finish creating his weapons before we do anything about it."

Bucky shot Zemo a look but said nothing, opting to cross his arms and scowl at the floor.

Mara looked at the three grown men in front of her with a century of battle experience between them yet resorting to passive aggressive jibes and gestures. It would have been laughable if it wasn't so damn scary.