4.4 | Trigger ✓

06 | грузовой вагон

"I'll make breakfast while you guys discuss," Dakota offered. Steve tried to protest, but she handed him his mug and waved him and Sam out of the kitchen. When they left, she turned to the redhead. "Do you drink coffee or tea, Natasha?"

Natasha crinkled her nose for a moment before shaking her head, her lips quirking up in a wry smile. "Neither. Do you have chocolate milk?"

Dakota pointed to the fridge. "Bottom shelf."

The redhead sidestepped Bucky and pulled open the fridge door, eyes brightening when she saw the carton of chocolate milk. She grabbed it, along with the cup that Dakota held out to her. "My day's been made," she drawled, nodding gratefully at Dakota before striding out of the kitchen, casually tossing over her shoulder, "Keep it PG-13, kids."

"Won't you be joining them?" Dakota asked Bucky, when it was just the two of them left.

He shook his head at her question, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he stepped closer to her. "Would rather spend all day in here with you, doll."

She felt a flutter in her chest but ignored it for awhile, opening a fresh box of croissants and sticking them in the toaster. She had, after all, promised the others breakfast. "So," She started lightly, when Bucky leaned against the counter to help her. "моя любовь." The words were unfamiliar on her tongue but she recalled it because he'd said it earlier. Bucky immediately stilled. "What does that mean?"

The tension dissipated from his shoulders within seconds, and then one corner of his lips was tilting up in a smirk. "Guess you'll have to figure that one out for yourself, милая."

"Now you're just mocking me."

He surprised her when he laughed; a throaty, low chuckle that made a shiver race down her spine at the sound of it. She didn't think she'd ever seen him that relaxed before, his eyes bright with barely-concealed mirth as he gazed down at her, and not in the stiff, rigid way he usually held himself as he leaned back against the counter now.

"You called me Dakota earlier," she observed at last, her curiosity surfacing as she thought back to the conversation earlier, when Natasha, Sam and Steve were in the kitchen with them. It hadn't hit her till now, but she suddenly realised that he'd never used the nickname that Sam and most people she knew usually gave her. "Does that mean you finally see a difference between me and that girl you knew called Dot?"

A little unconventional, she supposed, considering how straightforward she was being by asking him this. And her question had definitely taken him by surprise, if the way he suddenly froze was any indication at all. But she'd always been wondering. There was a thin line between liking her and latching onto her because she was familiar, and Dakota had always feared she was treading in the waters of the latter.

"There's always been a difference," Bucky shook his head, his hair falling into his face and he pushed it out of his eyes almost impatiently. His blue eyes met her gaze steadily, but there wasn't a trace of his playful smirk or glimmer of teasing. "She's in the past," he said quietly. "And you're – you're – "

He paused, swallowing as the words somehow seemed to fail him. But the sudden sound of footsteps made him glance up, his posture stiffening again.

Sam entered the kitchen, the expression on his face so ridiculously demure that Dakota couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Pardon me," he said smoothly, smirking when he saw the taut frustration on Bucky's face. "I know we're not supposed to disturb a ninety-year old man when he's trying to get some – "

Dakota bit her lip to keep from laughing when Bucky's glare deepened.

" – but Natasha needs chocolate and Steve wanted to wish you kids good luck," Sam continued innocently, lowering his head as he stared into the fridge, taking a deliberately long time to locate a bar of chocolate. "And I was just being insatiably curious."