Chapter 8: Art of Distractions

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He drove her home later in the night after they'd help clear up some of the mess from earlier. She stared out the window, lost in thought over everything she'd learned and been told.

Don't trust Alexi.

Don't trust Madame.

Don't trust anyone.

She rubbed her forehead with a sigh, her mind unable to connect all the information she had. Where did they even start? Was it inevitable that something would happen? Could Alexi help? Was this all too coincidental and she was just too morally sound now to handle it?

"You're quite." James murmured, reaching to hold her hand as he kept his eyes on the road. She squeezed his hand softly as she looked at him.

"Too much to think about." She shrugged, "I think I need to press Alexi for more information." 

"Another date?" James sighed, and she rolled her eyes slightly.

"It was never a date. Just business." He frowned at that, giving a stiff nod. "James, C'mon. He knows things that could help."

"Then why is he dragging it out?"

"Because its a huge risk." She frowns. "It's understandable."

"You understand him? Right." He huffed and she turned in her seat to face him.

"If there's an issue, you can handle it."

"I would love to. But, he won't trust anyone but you." He grumbled stubbornly and Natasha quirked her brow.

"Then there's your answer."

They sat in silence most of the way home, and up to their apartment until they were getting changed. Maybe it was years of being used that left him with the irrational uncertainty that everyone would do it to him again, eventually. He often took a while to warm to ideas or new people because of this, even though he knew they would never, and she definitely wouldn't. He was frowning at his phone as she undid her necklace and wiped the makeup from her face, insecurities stirring.

"You know you're in the news right?" He asked, nodding to her phone as he left into the bathroom to clean up. She frowned opening a news app, tabloid gossip of her and Alexi sitting close, discussing delicate information with her hand comforting on his knee. Or it was her and another man, sitting intimately close, hand seductively on his leg how it had been portrayed an written up as such.

"Is tabloid gossip the news? You don't seriously believe any of that, do you?" She tried to make light of it, thinking he'd laugh it off with her like before. But from his face, he clearly wasn't in the mood after a stressful day leading to another dead end.

"Natasha, it's everywhere. I can't exactly ignore it."
Bucky sighed, washing the dirt from the fight off his face as she removed her earrings.

"No, you could easily ignore it. Because it's absolutely nothing!" She frowned, throwing the earrings into her jewellery box. "I can't believe I even have to explain myself." She cursed out the little dweeb that took the photo. 

"But you can see what it looks like, right?" He huffed a little, hating being told what he should feel about anything. "I know you've been warned about him and to 'remember your training' or whatever that old witch said, but I'd rather you didn't."

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