For owesadebt

[a_survivor]

From here.

There was absolutely no delay between the bike stopping and the rider leaping out of it and towards the door. No, he wasn't in a panic, nor in any way running harder than would enable him to do what was needed that she couldn't do herself...

But Bucky was still running pretty hard. He didn't burst through the door (because getting interrupted by worried neighbors was not on the plan), and yet somehow was looming over Natalia in no time at all.

Comments

[owesadebt]

"I think that was faster than seventeen minutes." Natalia, for her part, is completely calm. She's holding a cloth to her side with one hand, and holding a glass of water with the other. She's had worse. Much worse. Still, it was nice to see him.

[a_survivor]

"I lucked out with traffic." Meaning that he actually didn't cause any major road accidents.

He leans in to kiss her forehead and just goes on to get the actual first aid kit. The one that's equipped for after-field-work cleanup, not the one for show.

He gets the burner for sterilizing equipment, too. He's not going to give her infection via negligence.

And with all held in his left hand, he finally crouches beside her. "Stay here, or up on the table?" He can work with either. Up to her.

[owesadebt]

"Table's easier for you." She knows from experience that stitching someone up while kneeling is not the most fun thing in the world. Besides, it barely hurts. Anymore. "You'll have to help me up, though, so I don't make it bleed any more than it has to."

[a_survivor]

His eyes almost crinkle; he just places the baggage on the counter, only his arm moving, then reaches to caaarefully scoop her up, rising with her. "I can do zat." And yes, he can distract with imitating a bad imitation of a Russian accent. It'd only fly properly in this company, anyway.

Bucky's absolutely gentle as he lays her on the table, anyway. And then, quietly. "Let me see."

[owesadebt]

The bad Russian accent earns a smile. If it were anyone else, they’d get a smack, but, well. James is different.

Natalia might wince a little bit as she pulls up her shirt to show him a jagged slash that’s shallow, but deep enough to need stitches. Just one more scar to add to her collection. “Thank you, for fixing me up.” Sure, she knows he’d do it anyway, but thanking him is the nice thing to do.

[a_survivor]

The not-quite smile eases into an actual, relieved smile in Bucky's eyes at that sight. Yes they've both had worse. "Anytime." No bullets to dig out of her, this time. No nasty chemical burn that leaves the skin difficult and painful and still needs to be stitched up. No-- any of the other options he's been thinking of on the way over.

He reaches over for the alcohol, going for the fastest route - once the first wash numbs it, he'll be down to actually gentle. "This will sting." Like she doesn't know. And he pours some of it over the slash... holding out the bottle for her. To hold or to drink from, as she pleases.

Next up, there's the anesthetic spray. It's shallow, but it'll work well enough for this, and no, he's not going to stitch her up dry.

But he will do it carefully enough that the scar won't be too distracting.

[owesadebt]

She gratefully takes the bottle, and takes a drink for it before he starts stitching her up. It doesn’t matter how many times this happens, or how used to it she thinks she is, it still hurts. But it’s short, and it could be worse. Much worse. And she’s happy it isn’t.

She’s glad he’s being careful, though. Sure, it’s one more scar in a whole pile of them, but still, it’s nice to not have it as bad as it could be. Once he’s finished, she’ll slump back on the table, and let the endorphins kick in before she does anything else.

[a_survivor]

He was actually quiet while stitching her up, focusing carefully and trusting the precision of his bionic arm, far surpassing nerve and sinew, to get the job done.

And then there is clean-up, smooth and easy and gentle again. He'll put away the first aid kit later. For now, there is picking her up and carrying her to the bed. Or starting that way, before he looks down on her too-pale face. "Shower or bed?"

He is perfectly aware that, at this point, she can walk. But why waste the fine opportunity to hold her close?

"I also trust the person who gave you this won't be needing cleanup?"

[owesadebt]

If he had been anyone else, she wouldn't have let him carry her. She was an adult who had been through much worse, thank you very much. But, well. James was probably the exception to every rule. "Bed."

She smiles when he asks about the person who had caused the injury in question. "Do you even have to ask?"

[a_survivor]

And he is perfectly content to exploit his uniqueness, that way. Just on the occasions when nobody else could see. Because every bit of reputation she has, she's earned, and he wouldn't dream of undermining it.

But, home alone? He can at least try to take care of her. On occasion.

"I don't," he grins. "But it's polite anyway. I'm trying to get into the habit of being polite with people who can kick my ass... it's not working very well, but I sometimes remember to try." Now he can talk. And smile.

[owesadebt]

She raises her eyebrows and laughs, because James, being polite with her? She was pretty sure they were far past that point. Especially when it came to being polite about people who stabbed her.

"Well, trying is better than nothing."

[a_survivor]

And that gets him to chuckle. "Isn't it?" He doesn't give a second thought to those who caused the slash - the chance that she hasn't dealt with them is very slim, but if she needs his help with anything, she would be sending him after them... whenever it pleases her.

Now, he will gently lay her on the covers. And lean down to kiss her. Properly.

[owesadebt]

And she will kiss him back. Post-injury quality time together was some of the best quality time together. And hopefully, this time, it would go uninterrupted.

"I didn't tear you away from anything important, did I?"

[a_survivor]

"No, I was about to call it a night of stalking that particular idiot and find a new one anyway."

Read: I'm all yours. Which is even better without words, with the next kiss, fingers slipping up under her shirt to caress her stomach on the unhurt side and mouth moving slightly down to trail down her neck. "Were you? I mean, between the two of us, you're more likely to be doing something important..."

[owesadebt]

"You think I would have left if I wasn't finished there?" Stab wound or no stab wound, if there was a job to get done, she'd tape it up and keep on going until it was done. Which was, essentially, what had happened.

She can't really think about that right now, because he is being really distracting.

[a_survivor]

"You did ask first." And his lips are against the curve of her neck, and he doesn't pull away to speak. Quite on purpose.

... actually, then he does pull back. To shrug off the jacket. And the t-shirt, while he's at it. Didn't get a chance, earlier.