[IN FANDOM A: SAD ABOUT LACK OF LONG FIC (Fanfic Flamingo) IN FANDOM B: MY FANDOM FOR A STORY UNDER 50K]
Inspired by this post
When the Winter Soldier is captured secretly by the newly rebuilt S.H.I.E.L.D., they are surprised when all attempts to question him fail spectacularly. Unhappy with the situation he’s in, Bucky has taken to toying with the interrogating agents. Every attempt at conversation with him has left someone fleeing, often in tears. Threats of any kind are met with an unnervingly blank stare. No one enters his cell, ever. As a last resort, Director Coulson sends Darcy Lewis, reluctant recruit brought in, ostensibly, for her own safety. Young, pretty, and obviously untrained, the agency hopes her presence will tempt their prisoner to share the information locked away in his head. They never anticipated it would turn out like this.
“Why do you keep calling me that?”
“That’s who you are? Were?” Darcy resists the urge to shift in discomfort under his stare. She takes a breath to settle before continuing. “That’s what I know to call you, Sergeant Barnes. If you prefer something else, just tell me and I can call you that.”
He looks startled for a moment, so brief she would have missed it if she hadn’t been watching his face, before his blank mask locks back into place. But there is definitely something different now. Darcy feels his eyes moving over her, almost like a physical touch, suddenly everywhere, and unexpectedly heated. It’s all she can do to stay on her feet as her knees seem to turn to water. She was not warned about this.
“Pretty girls, like you, who wanted to get to know me better? They used to call me Bucky,” his voice has gone low, teasing and oddly intimate.
She knows he’s just saying it to get a reaction out of her, -she can feel the warmth of the blood rushing to her cheeks already- so Darcy turns to where she noted the chair against the wall when she arrived. A few steps away from the cell and a few seconds to drag the chair over and unfold it is all she needs to get a handle on herself. She’s completely calm as she sits, crossing her legs and settling in with the most unimpressed expression she can manage— which is pretty damn unimpressed, something she mentally thanks Jane for.
“Sergeant it is then,” Darcy watches as his lips curve up slightly at the corners, a sinful little smirk with just a hint of amusement. Her pulse jumps. It’s the first real expression he’s shown anyone.
“The Winter Soldier isn’t empty. His mind is all over the place.”