Monster

I hated waiting tables. I said it all the time, but I felt it every time I was in that damn diner. When I took up work at a pancake house, I threw a party when I finally saved up enough money to quit. And okay, it wasn't a real party. I mostly just conned an adult into buying me beer and snuck out to get drunk in an empty field. It was a one-woman kind of party.

Of course, my parents thought quitting was a significant adolescent failure. And reminded me of my inability to commit to anything when I decided to join the army. They told me the military would be much more challenging than waiting tables, but their lack of faith in me fueled me enough to get through basic training. And I ended up proving them right anyway.

By the time the lunch shift started, I already had a raging headache, and my feet and back hurt. I wanted to go home and take a nap. The only good thing about the job was that it kept me busy enough to keep my mind off Bucky and the fact that Hydra had blown up my car.

When the lunch rush was over, I took a break and sat down in the storage room on a couple of old crates. I leaned on my knees and rubbed the ache from my forehead. I was glad I wasn't entirely unemployed anymore. But the thought of working for Stark in a nice comfortable office seemed more and more appealing with every shift.

The door swung open, and Marion poked her head in.

"Hey, I know you're on break," she said. "But some creepy guy just came in and asked for you. I seated him at the booth where you always sit with the hot one." I nodded and stood up.

"Yeah, alright. Okay," I replied.

She held the door open for me, and I followed her back out into the front. I stopped short when I realized who was sitting in the back booth. He had his back to the wall but appeared much less confident than Sam. He was slouched and trying to look inconspicuous beneath a hood and a baseball cap. Not to mention, he was wearing gloves.

"Is everything okay?" Marion asked. "Do you want me to call Margo to kick him out?"

"No, he's okay. He's a friend of mine. Get him a burger or something. And a Coke."

"Oh, okay. I'll put in the order for you."

"Thank you."

I headed around the bar, and his shaded eyes found mine. He had his hand blocking his face, just in case anyone recognized him. But he was drawing more attention to himself just by looking so suspicious. I sat down across from him.

"The hood is very conspicuous, Bucky. You might want to take it off," I whispered. He slid the hood back off.

"I didn't want you to know I haven't brushed my hair," he replied. I smiled and reached across the table to hold his hands.

"I've missed you." He looked surprised, probably because of both the words and the gesture.

"It hasn't been that long."

"Long enough. I was starting to think I'd never see you again."

"I had to come back. They tried to kill you." I squeezed his hands.

"They didn't try to kill me. They were sending me a warning. You probably shouldn't have come here. Someone might recognize you. I don't know if I'm being followed."

"I didn't know where else to go."

"You're not in any trouble, are you?"

"No, I'm…." He stopped.

"You're hungry," I finished for him. He kept his eyes on mine, and that was all I needed to answer the question. "It's okay. I'm having someone bring you something. And I'm sorry for interrupting you and Steve the other night. You needed to talk to him alone. I shouldn't have intervened."

"The conversation was already over. And you were pacing." I looked him over again. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his beard was growing back in. It looked like he hadn't showered in days.

"You should come back."

"I don't want to be a problem for you and him."

I thought about Steve's suspicions. If Bucky had mistakenly developed an attachment to me because I showed him kindness. I wondered if he thought he was going to cause relationship problems. I wanted him to know it wasn't real, just to put his mind at ease. But I didn't want him to consider it an invitation either. I was already getting in the way just by making him trust me.

"It hurts us more when we don't know where you are. There's nothing you need to be afraid of." I gave his hand another squeeze. He nodded slowly.

"I came back because I don't want them to hurt you," he told me.

"When was the last time you ate something? And I mean a real meal."

"When I was with you. I eat when I need to."

"I'm having them make you a burger. I thought you might like it. I don't really know what kind of food you like."

"I like pizza." I laughed.

"Everyone likes pizza. So are you going to come back?"

"I shouldn't be here. Someone might see me."

"Please, Bucky? We can finish your meal, and I'll clock out early. You won't be bothering us. Trust me. We both want you there." He shifted his glances from my eyes to the table. I took a deep breath and decided to give him at least a little reassurance. Even if I couldn't tell him the truth. "And—if you're worried about Steve and me—don't be. We're not—it's not…." He lifted his head again, not understanding what I was getting at. "It's not serious. If that's—something you're worried about."

"I…."

"A burger and fries for the bearded gentleman," Marion said, approaching the booth with her well-practiced smile. I released Bucky's hands so Marion could set the plate in front of him. I wanted to ask why she was so quick to get the plate out to him. It usually took at least 10 minutes on a good day. She was always in a rush to get Sam's food to him too, but I figured that had to do with her crush. "Enjoy your meal," she said, giving me a wink. She walked off to help a customer who'd been there longer than Bucky.

He gave the plate a once over before watching Marion.

"She's a spy. She works for someone else. She's here to watch you," he whispered. I blinked a few times before it registered.

"She what? How can you tell?" I asked.

"She only works on your shifts. Even when they're short-staffed. She's the only server on the floor who keeps her phone in her apron. She checks it regularly. She takes more orders from the phone than she does your manager. Plus, she spends more time watching you than doing her job." It was the most I'd heard him speak all at once. I turned to watch Marion.

I usually never gave her much thought. But Bucky was right. There was a shape of a phone in her apron pocket even though we weren't supposed to have them. She was wearing those chunky wedge sneakers that I always thought were murder on her feet. She was always there when I came in. Even when I was there to cover someone else's shift or when I came in early. I always just assumed Marion worked a lot. I turned back to Bucky. He hadn't touched his food or his drink.

"Steve said it's likely the government is keeping tabs on me. I guess I wasn't paying much attention," I admitted. "I don't think she'd poison you, though. I can try it first if you want." He cut his eyes to me, tense and uncomfortable. I reached over to take a fry from his plate. He said nothing as I chewed on it.

"See? No poison," I remarked.

"Some toxins take longer than others."

"Eat." I lifted another fry, but he didn't take it. So I sighed. "Do you want to go somewhere else?"

"They're all over the place."

"Do you want me to make you something at home? I know this great sandwich place that delivers to my house." He didn't answer again. So I climbed out of the booth. "I'll be right back. Just let me clock out."

I headed to the back to take off my apron and let the manager know I was leaving. I had a strict schedule to follow, but my boss never seemed to care. Sometimes I suspected Margo was afraid of me, but then I remembered that Hill set up the job, so it was more likely she was just scared of Hill. Marion hurried into the back to follow after. I untied the apron from around my waist and turned to face her.

"Hydra or Talbot?" I asked. Marion looked startled.

"What?"

"Answer the question. Do you work for Hydra or Talbot? Did you poison my friend?"

"Why would I poison your friend?" I rolled my eyes and tossed the apron into my bag.

"You're not a waitress. I should have figured it out sooner. You're good at this job, but it isn't your natural element. And you still haven't learned to dress for it. So you either work for the assholes who blew up my car yesterday, or you work for Talbot. So I want to know if you poisoned my friend because I'm the only person who ate off that plate, and I want to know if I should drive to the hospital after I leave." She crossed her arms defiantly.

"Talbot just wants to ensure you're not leaking messages to Hydra," she said. "Don't get your panties in a twist. I wouldn't poison you."

"Why would Talbot put a tail on me? I thought he trusted me."

"He does. Otherwise, they wouldn't have just sent me. I know you've spent a lot of time with Sam Wilson, and Captain Rogers sleeps at your house. But I didn't know about the Winter Soldier, but it might be a good idea for you to start talking." I rubbed my forehead and looked away at the boxes of fresh fruit stacked against the wall. This could be bad.

"He's not working with Hydra anymore," I admitted.

"Are you sure about that? He's dangerous, Jo." I nodded.

"He isn't. That's why we're trying to work with him. Tell Talbot to either stay out of it or do me a favor and don't tell him at all. Trust me on this. I can help a lot of people. He isn't dangerous. Hydra had him on a leash, but he's free now and wants to fix what they did to him. I can't help him if Talbot butts in." She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I won't tell him if that's what you think is best. You're one of his favorites. It was just a precaution. But if he hurts anyone, I'm serving your ass to Talbot on a gold platter."

"Thank you, Morgan," I said as I yanked my bag on my shoulder and moved to pass her.

"It's Marion, Jesus Christ," she whispered.