Stop, Breathe, Count to Three

Bo managed to find some clothes for James in the guestroom closet. She was thankful that Remy had left them behind for whenever he stayed over. When she returned to her guest, James cast a confused glance at the men’s clothing. Questions bubbled in his mind: Who did they belong to? Bo’s boyfriend perhaps? Did she even have a boyfriend? He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of this possible boyfriend.

He found the sweat pants to fit perfectly well, but the shirt was another issue. It was a bit tight around the chest and armpits and was slightly short, constantly threatening to ride up his belly. He felt as if he was yanking the damn thing down every two seconds. Bo wasn’t surprised, knowing Remy was taller and leaner than James, though not by much.

It was after that he had gotten dressed that he apologized to Bo, something he found foreign. He was not guilty for his attraction to her, but was quite open about it. It was the fact that he had made her uncomfortable and hadn’t been able to control himself.

“It’s alright, I understand,” she said with a wave of her hand as if to bat the whole thing away. “The bond is probably responsible. And thank you for apologizing, I can tell it isn’t easy for you.”

He stared at her from his position on the bed, wondering how she so easily managed to reject him without offending him in the slightest. They both had a mutual understanding that he was attracted to her, but she wasn’t interested in pursuing anything sexual or romantic with him. He found himself starting to respect her, liking the way she dealt with his emotions. She didn’t dismiss his affections, she acknowledged them but didn’t indulge.

She had been sitting by him on the edge of the bed, running a comb through his hair. That rebellious streak of fighting her as she babied him was fading. Even though her care was platonic and motherly, he ate up whatever he could from her. She was gentle with the comb and would smooth his hair with her hand after every stroke. He took in her scent as she sat so close. She smelled like fresh strawberries. With his eyes lingering on her lips, he wondered if she tasted like them too.

Bo paused her movements and snapped her eyes down to him. She lifted an eyebrow as she practically inhaled the orange attraction that burned around him. His eyes moved from her lips to her eyes when she stopped. Meeting her knowing gaze, he smirked brightly at her. She realized that it was the first smile she had ever seen on his face. It was a curling smirk, one that had potential to be a panty dropper. She wondered if this was the old Bucky Barnes coming out, a deadly flirt.

She rolled her eyes and smoothed his hair once more before determining his locks to be properly brushed. Placing the comb on the nightstand, she rose to her feet and turned to look back at him. “You need to get some sleep to fight off that fever. Are you sure that you don’t want some Tylenol?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “It wouldn’t work. I have a high metabolism.”

“Okay. If you need anything just give me a shout. Actually,” she said, frowning slightly, “you might be able to wake me up through the bond.” A smile came back to her face. “Goodnight, James.”

“Goodnight, Bo,” he replied back.

He was surprised by her next action. She leaned down and kissed him on the forehead, despite the clammy feeling from the fever. The touch of her lips and the feel of her breath coasting skin made his heart flutter.

He knew he was screwed.

***

Terror squeezed her chest and jolted her awake before the screams came. Her body was frozen, stuck in the crippling fear that was consuming her. Despite the horrible sound of the scream ripping from his throat, she was thankful for it as it spurred her into action. She jumped from her bed and dashed into the guest room, knowing that something was wrong with James.

She opened the door with the hall light spilling in and saw him tangled in the bedsheet. Beads of sweat coated his skin. He wriggled around, screaming and fighting an enemy his mind had made. The plating from his metal hand had snagged the fabric and his struggles tore the sheet away,
Though it was logically stupid to approach him as he was a deadly assassin caught in a nightmare, Bo did just that. When she grabbed his flesh wrist in her hand, she half expected him to try to kill her. So when he did grab her and pull her into him, her breath caught in her throat. She could imagine it staying there forever when he wrapped his metal hand around her neck, crushing her jugular and straggling her to death.

That didn’t happen.

As soon as they made skin contact, his body reacted to hers. His nightmare dissipated even though sleep still claimed him. He pulled her body flush against his, her back pressed against his bare chest, hot to the touch from his fever. When she moved, his hold on her tightened, obviously not planning on letting her go. She didn’t know what to do. She was locked in his grip and he was already fading into a peaceful sleep.

Fucking bond, she thought. With no other choice, she closed her eyes and evened her breathing, matching it to James’s. His face was hidden in her hair and she could feel his breath. The red flames of his fear had settled into pink cherry blossoms brushing her consciousness as they fell. They drifted downward, some slowly gyrating in the air. Her mind, which had been buzzing with James’s nightmare, slipped into sleep.

***

Bo felt overheated with his warm breath hitting the back of her neck and his flesh burning hot from the fever. It was his metal arm that provided her a cold relief. She curled into it in her half asleep state. She failed to notice the movement in the air from his mouth had traveled.

“Good morning.”

As soon as the words hit her ear, her entire body froze. “Well, this is awkward,” she commented lamely.

“Is it?” he breathed. His arm that had been wrapped around her began to move. His palm left her belly and trailed over her ribs, clearly on a mission. She grabbed the back of his hand before it could reach the rendezvous point.

“Nice try, but no.” Bo had put her walls back up to stop his interest to getting to her. She could feel him poking at the barrier, testing it. She was a bit surprised at how he had already gotten such a handle on it.

He let out a disappointed hum and released her, rolling over. “Then why are we sharing a bed if not for that?” he asked smugly, watching her sit up and throw her legs off the mattress.

Her back was facing him now, so she turned her head to look at him. James could feel her hesitation as her shields slightly slipped. “You were having a nightmare and I tried to wake you up.”

Though his face was completely blank, she could sense his worry. “I-I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

She didn’t expect to ever hear him stutter, but she ignored it and focused on his words. “Not at all. I kinda thought you would while in that state, but you calmed as soon as I touched you. I think you recognized me through the bond.”

James felt relief when he learned he had not hurt her. He never would intentionally, but Bo was small compared to him and lacked in muscle. He could easily crush her though the thought sickened him.

“Anyway,” she started, patting his knee, “how about I get you some breakfast, hmm?” He opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “Something small. Some toast and water. You’re still sick and I don’t know if you can stomach anything stronger.” He huffed, crossed his arms, and didn’t complain. She let out a small laugh. “I’ll get right to it.”

***

After feeding James, Bo took a shower and then fed herself. She had checked over his stomach wound and changed the bandages. He wasn’t happy with her order of sleeping, complaining that he wasn’t tired.

“That’s too bad,” she said with her hands on her hips, “but you need rest to get better.”

He scowled at her. “I heal faster than most people. I’ll be fine by the end of the day.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I’ll have to take your word for it, but that doesn’t change the fact that you are currently still sick. Now shut up and sleep.” She left the room, feeling his frustration, but she pushed it away and blocked him off.

Bo knew James wasn’t angry with her as much as the situation. He didn’t like feeling weak and being forced into a long state of boredom. He itched to move about, to explore the apartment and run a perimeter of it. He needed to secure the area, but wasn’t able to. He had to take Bo’s word on its safety. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, he did, and the bond wouldn’t allow foul play anyway, it was that she wasn’t an expert. She couldn’t tell the signs of being followed or sense danger coming. Yet he had no choice in the matter. Bo was weak, but he was currently weaker.

Speaking of our heroine, she was sitting on the living room couch, laptop perched on her knees. Papers and a couple pens were scattered about the coffee table. Taking care of her guest had prevented her from working on her paper on PTSD. Its deadline was midnight that night and she had yet to finish her rough draft. She settled in with a water bottle, half a bag of Lays chips for when she got hungry, and began working.

“Bo?”

She was pulled out of her work to see James standing in the doorway, looking quite a bit better than he had this morning. She glanced at the clock on her computer and was surprised to find it was 5:09 PM. Only then did she noticed the empty feeling in her stomach and the weight of her bladder.

“Yeah?”

“I-” He stopped suddenly and she was alarmed to feel the blank feeling inside of him with only a hint of worry.

“James?” she asked, but she was hushed as he pressed his finger to his lips. He cocked his head and seemed to be listening for something. With wide eyes, she watched him pull out a gun from the back of his pants. The pose he got in was one of an expert, which she had only seen on TV. He crept toward her bedroom door, his footsteps absolutely silent despite the hardwood flooring.

There was a sound coming from Bo’s room even though they were the only two in the apartment. It was a strange squeaking noise he suspected was someone trying to open the window lock, even though he had never been in the room. He carefully gripped the knob and made a gesture for Bo to get down behind the couch, which she followed.

He threw open the door and raised his gun, his movements quick and fluid. He scanned the room, but found no one in it. He checked the closet and bathroom, but they were empty as well. “All clear,” he called out to Bo, hearing her moved closer instantly. Looking toward the source of the sound, he was confused to see a small metal cage with a plastic base.

Bo laughed from the doorway once she realized what had happened. “I see you’ve met Arthur the hamster,” she teased. He watched the albino rodent run on the little blue wheel, the axle making an annoying squeaking noise. “But hey, thanks for reminding me to feed him.”

She brushed past him and took out a block of hamster food from a bag next to the cage. She undid the latch and tossed it into his small bowl. Arthur instantly jumped off the wheel and dashed to the bowl. He stuffed the block in his cheek and ran into the plastic hut he had made his nest in.

James stood there, watching the little creature. The gun was still in his hand, so he tucked it back in his waistband. He felt eyes on him, making him turn head to see Bo looking at him with amusement glinting in her hazel depths.

She leaned forward and pressed her palm to his forehead. The scent of strawberries wafted into his nose from her close proximity. “Hmm,” she hummed, “you’re not hot anymore. I guess you were right.”

He grabbed her limb before she could pull away. “I’m still plenty hot. And I enjoy you playing nurse.” His flirtatious smirk returned as he rubbed the pad of his thumb over the heel of her hand. His own orange-red desire coated his tongue as he breathed on the inside of her wrist before gently kissing the flesh over her pulse.

Her eyes widened and then narrowed in a glare. Feeling her annoyance, he quickly dropped her wrist and took a step back. She took in a lungful of air and sighed heavily through her nose. “I’m going to cook something for dinner. Your fever seems to have gone down so we can test how much food you can take, cool?”

He nodded and watched her retreat into the bathroom. Heading out to the living room after giving Arthur one last glance, he started his perimeter check. The door had a lock on the knob and a second one higher up. He didn’t know how much he could trust the locks and would have to speak to Bo about upgrading them. The windows, which were located in Bo’s room and the guestroom, had weak, standard locks on them. The fire escape was outside her bedroom, which concerned him even more. If someone got in, he would be on the other side of the wall.

Bo had started working in the kitchen not far into his rounds. She didn’t say anything as he thoroughly checked the place over. She even kept her mouth shut when he start hiding some of his weapons around the house, and only raised an eyebrow at the gun in the back of the silverware drawer. He had done a double check with his weapons, testing out how easily it would be to pull them out during an emergency and if they could be seen if you didn’t know they were there. She lost sight of him as he went into the living room.

James saw Bo’s laptop sitting on the coffee table. Curious, he sat down and brought it out of sleep mode. Despite being born in 1917, he had been taught the basics of a lot of modern day technology. He had upgraded with HYDRA.

The open document that sat before him was claimed to be written by Isabeau Jordan. Interested, he began reading. He actually hadn’t heard of the name PTSD. He remembered the side effects of shell-shock, but it hadn’t been an official disorder. Trying to remember if that was right gave him a headache, so he settled for reading the paper.

He was on the last paragraph when Bo’s voice interrupted him. “I’m in the final stages of editing, so it isn’t perfect.” He was startled by her sudden appearance, having been so absorbed in the text.

“I like it,”he complimented her. “It’s fascinating.”

“Really?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. The question was unnecessary as she could feel his pink sincerity.

He nodded anyway. “Why are you writing it?”

“Oh, uh,” she stumbled, walking over to the back of the couch and placing her elbows on it. Leaning forward and using the furniture to support her weight, she told him, “It’s for my class.”

“Class?”

“Yeah, I’m majoring in psychology at NYU. I’m an empath, so why not learn more about the field? If you’re good at something, never do it for free. Off topic, but weren’t you in DC when all that stuff happened? Why did you come to New York?

He hesitated before explaining, “I needed to distance myself from the area. And I was on my way to Brooklyn.”

She frowned. “Brooklyn? Why there?”

“Because he-I’m from there.”

She nodded, but didn’t press. “I see. Anyway, food’s ready if you’re hungry.”
He quickly got to his feet and placed the laptop on the table before following her into the kitchen. She had the small, two seated table set with plates, forks, knives, cups of water, and napkins. A pot of spaghetti sat in the middle and the smell made his stomach rumble.

She smiled at him, both hearing and feeling his hunger. “You’ll notice a lack of meat with my meals. I’m vegan so we usually don’t have any in the apartment. It’s cheaper anyway.” She started dishing some on her own plate, but stopped noticing him just standing there. “Well, sit down.”

After getting the permission he was waiting for, he sat down and licked his lips as Bo started filling his plate. Even after she stopped, he didn’t make a move toward the food, but stared at it.

“James,” she called to him. He looked up at her from his position from across the table. “Are you waiting for my permission?” He paused and thought about it. Realizing that he was, he nodded after deciding to give her the truth. She sighed and said, “You don’t need my permission. You can do whatever you want. Well, almost whatever. Now eat.”

He felt no shame shoveling the noodles into his mouth, the sauce coating his lips and even his chin. It had been so long since he had real food like this. Though really the meal wasn’t special, it made his taste buds explode. He ignored the hazel eyes watching him.

“Slow down,” Bo said, and he instantly complied. “You’re going to choke or get sick again.” She smiled at his joy of eating though. “You can eat as much as you can stomach, but I’d like to leave some for Lauren when she-”

The shock that ran through Bo struck him hard enough to cause him to drop his fork. “Bo?” James asked worriedly.

“Fuck!” she cursed. “I totally forgot!”

Quickly, he stood and made his way over to her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked in her eyes, searching to bond. “What did you forget?”

“Lauren’s getting here tomorrow.”

Lauren? he wondered. “Why is she coming here? Can’t you tell her not to?”

Bo sighed. “No, I can’t, on the count of the fact that she lives here.”