so bad guys can't see me bleed

•tape forty-nine•

"Aw, thank you! You're beautiful too!"

"Sam's getting mad," Bucky whispers in my ear, going to kiss my cheek.

I push him away. "Don't talk to me, asshole."

"May, it wa—it was a joke! Come on!"

I laugh and shake my head, going over to Sam.

—

I use the sander on a pallet of wood while Bucky sands down a small pillar and Sam tries to use the crowbar to get some rusted metal off the side.

After a while, Sam goes down and tries to start the engine. Bucky takes a screwdriver and tries flipping it around. He tosses it to me to fuck with me while I sand down another pallet. I catch it without looking and toss it back to him.

Sam huffs and comes back up, going to try with the rusted metal again. After about twenty minutes of him trying, and me coming back from moving some pallets around and grabbing some tin boxes, Bucky walks over to him. He grabs the side of the metal and rips it off with ease, tossing it to the side.

Then Sam stands outside the window and Bucky takes me to where the wheel is. I pull my hair behind my ears and go through the toolbox, handing Bucky a few tools before grabbing some for myself.

Sam glances at us through the window every now and then as we try to fix it. We glance at each other every now and then. I work and feel eyes on me, so I look up at Bucky. He shakes his head and looks away.

"Hey," Sam says, knocking on the window to get our attention. We both turn to him. "Stop eye fucking in my boat."

"We aren't eye fucking," Bucky says, shaking his head at Sam.

"Well, I know what you two did."

Bucky turn to me. "Did you tell him?" I shake my head and go back to working.

"Y'all are nasty," Sam says walking away.

—

"Think Karli's gonna throw in the towel?" Bucky asks as he passes a bucket of water to me, I pass it to Sam, and Sam empties it.

"I think she's gonna double down," Sam says.

"Any idea how to stop her?" Bucky asks, handing me a bucket. I pass it to Sam.

"I got Joaquin working on something," Sam says.

"Better work," I mumble, handing another bucket.

"Well, Zemo says there's only one way," Bucky says.

—

"Well," Bucky says, standing up from his chair while Sam and I sit next to each other sipping whatever nasty beer Sam gave us, "gotta catch our flight tomorrow." He finishes his glass and sets it down. "We got a hotel room for the night. Crash, you know?" He grabs his jacket and starts to put it on.

"You're just gonna set me up like that, huh?" Sam says. He turns to me. "I thought at least you would stay a little longer."

I shrug and point to Bucky. "I tried talking him out of it. He was set in stone. Plus, there's the fact that we don't want to make it—"

"Weird for your family," Bucky finishes for me.

"Just stay here," Sam says. "The people in this town are the most welcoming people in the world. They don't care if you wear small T-shirts," he points to Bucky, then to me, "are always annoyingly sarcastic and bluntly rude, or if you have six toes, or if your mom's your aunt. If you—"

"Okay I get it," Bucky says, chuckling. "I mean, you know, the people are nice."

Sam laughs. "What about you, Cher?"