Lost and Found - Bucky Barnes x OC

Quelle Surprise

Frankie lay flat on her back working under a beautiful, vintage maroon Mustang when Freddie came calling.

'Hey Frank, uh- guy out front with a bike to book in. Dan asked for you.'

Frankie slid out using her car creeper, wrench in hand, splattered in a bit of engine oil. Exactly where she wanted to be, of course. Her happy place.

'OK thanks Fred, be right there'.

She jumped to her feet and wiped her hands, humming to herself as she made her way over to the front desk. Freddie stopped her after a few feet and quietly clutched her arm. 'Frankie' he whispered. 'Be careful. He's dangerous'. He sounded panicked, stressed - a far cry from his usual happy go lucky self.

Frankie frowned. 'What do you mean Fred? You know this guy?' She asked, worriedly. Freddie was only nineteen and she felt very protective over him. They'd taken him on as an apprentice a few months back and he was doing great learning the ropes. She already felt like an big sister to him.

Freddie shook his head 'No. But he's not who you think, Frankie. He's -' but before he could finish another word, Dan appeared telling Freddie he had a phone call, handing him the shop's portable handset.

Frankie made a mental note to ask him what he meant later. That was odd, was it a weird prank maybe? He seemed so panicked and -

Her train of thought cut off as she approached the front of the shop and got a first look at her new customer. Quelle surprise.

It was the motorcycle asshole guy who nearly killed her, of course. Who else would it be?

'Hello again' said Bucky gruffly.

Frankie sighed. She didn't need this today. 'Thanks Dan, I'll take it from here.' She turned to Bucky. 'Good afternoon, sir. Are we having an issue with the bike? Goodness, who could've foreseen this?' she deadpanned.

Bucky shrugged. 'Something wrong with my engine apparently. Weird huh?'

Frankie nodded and waited for him to apologise, or tell her she was right, or anything. But he stayed silent, just like she did. They stared at each other. Stalemate. She felt the familiar annoyance rising up within her once again. Why did he always have that smug look on his face, exactly? What was his problem?

After a moment or two Frankie put on her metaphorical business cap. She knew Big Frankie always taught her to treat every customer kindly - no matter how big an asshole they were.

'OK let's take a look' she muttered, taking a look at the bike. She played around with the ignition and put her ear to the engine. 'It could be the carburettor, or the gasket'.

'I could've told you that' he replied, his tone solemn.

Frankie sighed. 'Do you want me to look at it, or not? Because you're very welcome to go elsewhere if you'd feel more comfortable.' She gestured towards the door.

Dan shuffled his feet uncomfortably. This wasn't like Frankie, who normally bent over backwards to welcome new customers. There seemed to be a strange feeling between her and this new client, he almost felt like he was interrupting them somehow.

'What?' replied Bucky. 'And miss this top drawer customer service from Frankie of Frankie's Garage? I'd be crazy. Please have at it, Francesca'.

His lips curled into a smirk. The truth is he had wanted to get out of there the second he realised who Frankie was. He didn't really want to be yelled at by this obnoxious woman again, or trust her with his bike. But he felt weirdly compelled to stay. Was he...enjoying this? He couldn't stop staring at the grease mark she had on her cheek. The overalls. It was all strangely appealing. He found her so very annoying, and yet he was reluctant to leave. 

Frankie felt the heat rising to her face again at the mention of her full name. Dan must've been doing one of his impromptu story times. She managed a small smile. 'OK. Well in that case how about you leave it with me, and I'll give you a call once we've established the problem. It should cost you a few hundred bucks all in, give or take depending on if I need a new part.' She mirrored his smirk straight back at him.

He nodded, watching her through narrowed eyes.

'Also please don't call me Francesca. My name is Frankie. And what you are?'

'James Barnes. Friends call me Bucky'.

'Alright James' she replied curtly, refusing to acknowledge his name as he'd refused hers. 'Well please leave your number with Dan, and I'll give you a call later today to let you know what I've found. Have a great afternoon, and hopefully the roads will be a little safer for the time being'. She shot him a forced smile.

'Dan – please take Mr. Barnes' phone number and get him booked in. If it's not too taxing for him.' She pulled another fake smile then abruptly returned to her post at the back of the shop.

Bucky waved. 'Can't wait to hear from you doll.'

Dan chuckled uncomfortably, exchanging a confused glance with Freddie who had returned from his call.

Frankie stormed back to the Mustang muttering under her breath. What was his problem exactly? She should just turn around right now and tell him to remove his shitheap bike because why should she put up with this? Business was doing OK, they didn't need his money. He didn't even thank her for telling him the engine was on the fritz.

OK, it was actually a very nice bike, not a shitheap. But her point still stood.

**

Later the day while servicing a Honda Civic, Frankie had calmed down. Mostly. She had established the issue with James' engine pretty quickly. It wouldn't take long to fix, she needed to order a replacement part in so it may be a day or two. Shouldn't be too expensive either. She hadn't called him yet though. Why should she? She's in no rush. She'd call him when she was ready.

So why was she still thinking about him all this time later? The near miss had rattled her, yes. It was more that he didn't apologise that bothered her, though. And he didn't recognise she was right about the bike. Frankie had no tolerance for arrogance. She was no-nonsense, valuing fairness and transparency. And she wasn't afraid to speak up when those values were challenged. Big Frankie's daughter had spent a lifetime standing up for herself and those she cared about. Particularly since she'd taken over the business, you'd be amazed by how many full grown men become babies when they find out who Frankie was. A WOMAN daring to know about cars?! Outrageous. She never hesitated to put them in their place, and the company's healthy bank accounts spoke for themselves.

But she couldn't stop thinking about him. She kept trying to throw herself into her work to keep herself distracted. Images of him ran through her mind – his sarcastic little smile, his pouty scowl, an edge to his blue eyes. The man was blue steel-ing all over the joint. He was pretty handsome in a conventional kinda way she supposed. He had quite broad shoulders. Probably a nice body under there...strong arms most likely...

...Frankie suddenly realised, in those few seconds, she had spilled brake fluid all over the floor.

Whoops.

She'll call him shortly. But she could never call a grown man "Bucky".