Stop, Breathe, Count to Three

James knew that the safety Bo and him had created wouldn’t be permanent, but he didn’t think it would end so soon. Despite not knowing Lauren, he didn’t like her for the simple reason that she would destroy Bo’s and his little haven.

Bo took a deep breath and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to collect her thoughts. “Alright, so she should be getting back mid-morning tomorrow. I have to go to work at three-”

“No,” he cut her off.

“No?” She frowned at him. “No what? No, I can’t go to work?” His silence answered her. “James! I have to. I can’t just call in sick. Besides, I need the money. This apartment isn’t exactly cheap, y’know. I also have students loans to pay.”

The hands on her shoulders trailed down her arms and gripped her wrists. “You’re not leaving me,” he demanded.

“I’m not leaving you!” she exclaimed. “I’m going to work for a few hours, that’s it.”

“Then I’ll come with you.”

“You can’t just- Ugh!” She pulled out of his hold and threw her hands in the air, exasperated. “Dios mío, you’re stubborn.” She dropped her hands in her lap, which he instantly grabbed again. “Look, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Until then, I need to figure out what I’m going to say to Lauren.” She stared up at him, still sitting in the chair with him standing above her. Apparently, his train of thought matched hers because he dropped down so he was sitting on his heels. The pads of his thumbs brushed the backs of her hands. She sighed again and slumped in the chair. “I guess I should just tell her the truth.”

His eyes sharply cut to hers. “No,” he repeated.

“James,” she whined, causing him to snort, “I have to. She’s going to recognize you; the shit that happened in DC was all over the news, so everyone knows about it. And even if that wasn’t the case, there’s still your arm. I have to tell her.”

“No,” he said, sounding like a broken record. Before she could say anything, he continued, “What if she’s HYDRA?”

They both paused, realizing that it was the first time they acknowledged the elephant in the room. Neither had wanted to mention HYDRA, they were a threat that the bonded paired didn’t want to face. Bo had no way to fight them and she didn’t want to see them take James. The ex-HYDRA agent feared for his partner because he knew that they would tear them apart since she made him weak.

“That ridiculous,” Bo said, interrupting the silence. “I’ve known Lauren for over a year and we’ve lived together for months. You’ve been separated from HYDRA for what? Two weeks? And you’ve been here for less than 24 hours. Like, maybe if Lauren had a serious government job, but she works at a free health clinic.”

James listened to her and knew it was paranoia that made him suspicious of this Lauren girl. He had no reason to suspect her other than the fact that he didn’t know her. It was natural for him to think HYDRA was everywhere and everyone was potentially an agent. You just don’t want her to get between you and Bo, a small part of him whispered, but he pushed it away.

“Let’s finish eating first,” she said, pulling him from his thoughts. He nodded, stood, and hesitantly released her. Though he would never admit it, he craved human touch. He had been deprived of it for the last 70 years and what he had been given had almost always brought pain. He knew Bo wouldn’t hurt him and she couldn’t even if she wanted to. Every word that dripped from her lips and every touch that lingered on his skin even after she let go was pink with sincerity. James trusted her; he liked the feeling though it was foreign.

***

Of all the possible ways he could have imagined Lauren Ross, her actual appearance was something his imagination could not have created on its own. The feature of hers that he first noticed was her height. She was tall, very tall. She towered over him by several inches, reaching a stunning 6’4. Her inky black hair was a sharp contrast to her ivory skin, which was covered in tattoos. The right side of her head was shaved in a style that he was sured belonged to Native Americans.

The silver septum piercing she had momentarily flashed in the light of the apartment as she turned to face him. Her brown eyes trailed over him as she raised a perfectly shaped, thin eyebrow. She folded her arms, giving him a show of the artwork. The tattoos covered her arms like sleeves; one had flowers and skulls and the Virgin Mary. The other depicted an empty face with golden eyes and red lips, but no nose. The backdrop was a deep blue with a bright, flashing city ending at her elbow and a yellow car flashing by.

The Great Gatsby, his mind whispered. He didn’t know where it came from, but he recognized the picture somehow.

A single word in Russian was inked on the inside of her arm, below what he thought might be a book cover. “Soup,” he read aloud, breaking the silence.

“What?” Lauren asked, frowning.

“Soup,” he repeated. He cocked his head and nodded at the Russian tattoo. “Why soup?”

“No, it says ‘dream,’” she corrected him.

“No, it says ‘soup.’ мечтать means dream and суп means soup.”

They stared at each other silently for a moment. Lauren turned her head to look at Bo, panic in her eyes. “Do you really think it says soup?”

“Uh,” Bo stuttered, “I don’t know Russian.”

“But he does,” Lauren probed.

Bo bit her lip. “Apparently.”

“Fuck!” Lauren cursed. “I’ve been walking around with fucking soup on my arm for how many years?!” She placed her head in her hands. “Goddamn it! I’m gonna have to get a cover up or something.”

James was tense, unsure how to handle Lauren’s outburst. Amusement flickered through Bo, making him relax a bit and look at her. Her bottom lip was stuck between her teeth and he realized that she was fighting off a smile and possibly a laugh.

Before coming out to meet Lauren, he had been hiding away in the guestroom when Lauren came home so Bo could explain everything to her. There had been stressed tones and words that rose in volume, but overall things had gone considerably well. And even though Lauren was devastated over her soup tattoo, things were going well. He wasn’t sure if the relief he felt was his or Bo’s, but it was relaxing.

Lauren sighed and momentarily pulled herself out her self-loathing. “Well, that’s just great. I get back from a funeral to find out I have soup permanently inked on my body. Anyway, I’m going to unpack.” In less that two steps, but more than one, she had reached Bo with those long legs. Bo instantly tilted her head back on reflex and Lauren had to lean down greatly in order to close the distance between their lips. The kiss was short and sweet and surprised James. It also answered the question in the back of his mind about where Lauren slept since the only bedrooms were Bo’s and the guestroom.

As he watched Lauren exit the stage, he thought about how Bo’s rejection made sense. Her non-attraction to men was disheartening, but there was nothing he could do about it. He was left with desires for a woman whom would never return those feelings.

He turned to the object of his affection and decided he was comfortable enough with her to voice his thoughts. “Now I see why you aren’t interested in me.” That made her laugh a little. “It’s too bad you don’t like men, I’ll never have a chance now.”

She raised her eyebrows, unable to lift just one, and approached him. “James,” she said from just a foot away, “I rejected you because I am in a committed relationship with Lauren and I love her. But you shouldn’t assume things because I never said I didn’t like men.” She smiled smugly and went to follow Lauren, leaving him to his thoughts.

***

James kept close to Bo, his eyes flitting around constantly. Every time they moved, he would search for entrances and exits to the department store; And, of course, for HYDRA.

If it hadn’t been for the bond, she wouldn’t have noticed his tense mood, but she moved about, searching the racks for something to fit him. He wore the clothes she found him in with the exception of the shirt, which was Remy’s. He had zipped up the jacket to hide the way top rode up his stomach. He made sure to keep his left hand in his pocket so no one could see the metal. He noticed Bo add a pair of black leather gloves to their collection.

There had been a lot of Bo holding up clothing to him to see if it looked like it matched. At one point she managed to surprise him by grabbing the back of his pants to check the size. She was hesitant about jackets, wanting something bulky enough so it wouldn’t show the shape of his metal arm. She was also worried about it snagging on the shifting plates. He had felt ridiculous when she made him take off his boots so he could try on shoes. He let her choose, knowing that she was more knowledgeable on clothing and the culture of the day than he was. James stayed mostly silent and would only nod or shake his head. At times, he had to do neither since she felt his opinion on something.

“Alright,” she said after 45 minutes, “I think we have enough clothing.” The cart the store provided held two pairs of jeans, black leather gloves, a pair of sneakers, a pair of combat boots, five shirts that varied in shades of gray and black, and a black leather jacket. There were also packages of socks and boxers. When she asked if he prefered boxers or briefs, he had no answer. She had sighed and said, “I remember you were wearing boxers, so we’ll go with those.”

Before they could check out, she had grabbed an electric razor, shaving cream, a comb, and deodorant for him. He watched her unload the items on the counter for the sales clerk to ring them up. She wore a white button up that hid her figure and black pants with black sneakers. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail with bobby pins holding back her side swept bangs. She had complained that her employers were stingy about the uniforms and even demanded she wore black socks. The only part of the outfit she was missing was her long black apron with her name tag pinned to it, which she left in the car.

James frowned when he noticed the pricings on the screen that was perched on the counter. He didn’t know what he was comparing it to, but everything seemed ridiculously expensive to him. He wasn’t sure if he was okay with Bo spending all that money on him, especially when just last night she mentioned how she needed the cash from working.

She turned to look at him when she felt that he was upset. “What’s wrong?” she asked, brushing back the bangs that weren’t in her way but just did it due to habit.

He paused and wondered if he should tell her. “That’s a lot of money for clothing.”

Catching his meaning, she smiled at him in reassurance as she slipped the bank card out of her wallet. “Not really,” she said, swiping the card, “it’s the leather jacket that’s making the total that high.” She typed in her pin number as she spoke to him. “And I don’t mind, really. I’ll make up a good slice of this tonight on tips. Besides,” she stopped and turned to give him her full attention, “you need this stuff, James. Let me take care of you.” The last sentence was hushed as she ran her hand down this flesh arm. He swore he could feel the searing heat of her skin through the jacket. She pulled away instantly and began to gather the bags, but orange attraction still hung in the air.

***

When they questioned what to do with James while Bo was at work, as if he were a dog, Lauren had surprised everyone else by backing him up on the idea that he should go with her to work. “It’s a public place so he can get away with it. And if he sits at your section, no one else will notice him staying for a couple hours.”

So he had waited outside the restaurant for a bit so she could clock in, then he went in and asked the hostess if it was possible he could sit in Bo’s section, as he was a friend of her’s. Rachel-Rose, as her name tag indicated, smiled at him and didn’t find the request strange, just as Bo had assured him she wouldn’t. Luck was on his side when she led him to a table in the back corner. When he sat down, her smile became brighter, her warm brown eyes shining. “Your server will be right with you,” she promised.

And so she was. Bo told him he had to have something if he was going to stay. “I’ll pay for it,” she told him. “You don’t even have to tip me,” she teased.

James watched her work, going from table to table, taking orders, bringing out arms full of plates or drinks. He had to admit that he was impressed with the way she could balance so many dishes while also supporting the heavy weight. She spoke kindly and used her powers to admit relaxed, friendly, yellow emotions. There were times when she became annoyed or frustrated with a customer, but she remained professional.

He watched her approach a table with a mother and a boy about six or seven years old. The father had been there only moments before but had left for the bathroom. Her lips moved as she talked, probably asking them if they needed anything. The boy said something that caused her smile and jaw to drop. James tensed at the shock that ran through her. Both Bo and the mother had similar surprised faces as they looked at the little boy. The mother said something hurriedly to Bo, eyes wide. A few more words were exchanged and Bo quickly left the table.

Catching her eye, he gestured for her to come over. Once she was close enough, he grabbed her wrist and ran his thumb over her pulse, suddenly wishing he wasn’t wearing those damn gloves. “What happened?” he asked, worriedly.

“Nothing, I just-” She paused and blinked. “I just got cussed out by a little kid.”

His brows knitted together. “What?”

“I asked if they needed refills,” she recounted, “and the kid just says, ‘Shut up, bitch.’ Can you believe that? I didn’t know what to do.”

The laugh that escaped his mouth startled him, but he couldn’t hold it back. It was the hilarity of the story and the relief that she was fine that had done it for him. She smiled widely at him as the laugh faded off into chuckles. “Now I’m definitely disappointed I won’t get a tip.”

It was nearing the end of her shift when two men walked in. One wore a baseball cap that obscured part of his face. Normally, she would have moved on like most people, but instead her eyes hooked on to him. After several long, drawn out seconds, she recognized him. To make matters worse, the hostess led them both over to her section.

They were thankfully away from James, but panic settled into her heart. She could see her bondmate staring at her, wondering if she was okay and what had upset her. They locked eyes before she glanced over at her two new customers. He followed her gaze and nearly broke the glass in his metal hand.

It seemed she would be serving Captain America his dinner.