Chapter 29

Bucky and Maggie found a restaurant a few streets away, a bit fancier than the dives they usually went to eat at, but Maggie argued that a proper Fuck You, HYDRA party needed a more expensive setting. So they sat across from each other at a table with a clean white tablecloth and a candle on it, and impressed their waiter with their pronunciation of the complicated Italian names. It helped that they both spoke Italian fluently, but they didn't tell him that. The waiter was less impressed when they later paid for dinner with a bowler-hat full of change.

It took Maggie a while to come down from her adrenaline high from the juggling, which Bucky found endlessly amusing. She'd never had so many people looking at her before, at least when she wasn't about to be experimented on or kill them. She'd enjoyed having an audience and making people laugh. She'd been nervous, and more than a little embarrassed, but it had helped having Bucky there in the crowd, grinning at her with a dopey look on his face.

Learning to juggle had quieted her mind over the past few days, though the knowledge that she was going to see Bucky soon had helped. And now that he was across from her, she felt a sense of ease and comfort that she had barely realised she'd been missing.

They hadn't mentioned her disappearing act yet, and Maggie didn't know what she was going to say when they did. She didn't feel like lying any more, to Bucky or to herself, and yet she knew that she was still in the same situation. She was still hopelessly attracted to Bucky – she couldn't quite stop herself from staring at him, or touching him when she got the chance – and yet the same issues of stability and compatibility remained.

But something had changed. She hadn't really come into this with any plans, beyond apologising to Bucky and juggling, but she knew she was done making herself unhappy for no good goddamn reason. Something had changed with Bucky as well: he kept looking at her, sometimes shooting her a smirk, as if he could sense her thoughts about him. She almost dismissed it, but when he reached up to demonstrate the height of a tank he and the Howling Commandos had taken down in 1944, and her eyes strayed to his stretching torso, he stretched a little longer and his eyes glinted at her.

He knew something was up, though he seemed happy enough to dance around it. Usually, they knew each other too well for either of them to conceal what they were thinking, but now Maggie was having more difficulty than usual reading Bucky. She got the sense that the Bucky Barnes of 1945 was flirty, but she wasn't sure about the man he was now. She was still new to all of this, and she was aware that her lack of experience left her open to mistakes and misinterpretation.

She knew that he cared for her, but she didn't know if he was attracted to her. He had a good handle on his body language, but she'd caught the slight slackening of his jaw when he first saw her in the red dress, and she wasn't the only one getting distracted at dinner. After she threw her head back and full-body laughed at one of his jokes, she noticed that dopey look on his face again. She ran one hand through her loose hair, and nearly fell out of her seat when Bucky's eyes darkened and his fingers twitched where they rested on the table, as if he wanted to reach out.

She didn't see why someone wouldn't be attracted to her – she had symmetrical features, a tall, athletic body, and she could perform many attractive skills such as proficient juggling, or lifting a car over her head. Of course, there were the detracting qualities such as her role as a former assassin, the knives in her feet, and her general mental instability. Bucky didn't seem to mind those traits, though, especially as he shared two out of three of them.

But she knew there was a difference between being attractive and someone being attracted to her, and all her research couldn't help her. Tired of overthinking, she just let herself enjoy laughing and talking with Bucky again. And if she let herself get caught up a little more than usual in the crinkles around his eyes when he smiled, or the line of his shoulders… well, she was only human. And that was something she was proud to be.

As they tried out a fancy Italian wine, Maggie realised that though she'd intended for this to be a Fuck You, HYDRA party, it was actually looking a lot like a date. She'd never been on a date before, but she knew the basics from her research: two individuals dressing up nicely and having conversation over dinner and drinks. Though she supposed that an important component of a date was that both parties needed to know and agree that it was a date, and there'd been no verbal confirmation of that. She shrugged and sipped her wine. Either way, she knew that HYDRA would really hate whatever this was. Though she realised that she hadn't thought about HYDRA at all for almost an hour.

She was contemplating that as they paid – much to the displeasure of their waiter – and left the restaurant. Night had fallen, and she took a deep breath of the cooler air. Bucky was warm and solid to her left.

"Well," he said, adjusting his gloves. "The place for my thing is actually right next door."

"How convenient."

Bucky offered her his arm with another knowing smirk. She lifted her chin and wrapped one hand around his flesh bicep, trying to ignore how good he felt and trying to come up with a way to unsettle him in reprisal. They started walking, and she settled for pressing closer against his arm so there wasn't a fragment of space between them. She could feel the warmth of him radiating through his clothes. Bucky swallowed tightly, eyes skittering across her face and then away, and Maggie smirked to herself. So maybe that answered that question, but there was still a difference between mutual attraction and the possibility of having anything more.

Before her brain started working a mile-a-minute, Maggie rolled her eyes and let Bucky lead her. Thinking through all the possibilities and implications was getting exhausting. She let herself enjoy the head-rush of knowing that she wasn't alone in this new, strange feeling.

They didn't walk long – as Bucky said, his destination was next door. A furrow grew between Maggie's brows as she realised that it was some kind of… club? They were nodded through the door, and then strode across carpeted corridors, past a dining hall and a bar.

Sensing her growing confusion, Bucky laughed. "So it turns out that I was wrong when I said they don't have dance halls anymore," he explained as they approached a set of wooden double-doors. "Apparently there are still a few places you can go to do dancing that isn't… well, you know."

She knew: the rhythmic, mindless undulating and jumping that they'd attempted at the nightclub. She felt her cheeks go pink at the memory, and then they stepped through the doors.

It was a huge room with high ceilings, wooden floors, a stage at the far end and chandeliers hanging from the roof. There was a band on the stage, currently performing a jazzy rendition of a song that Maggie had never heard before. The wide room was filled with people in couples or groups, dancing to the song, while others milled around the edges chatting and sipping drinks.

She took a moment to absorb the spectacle: the swaying couples and the music crooning through the air, the faint squeak of shoes on the wooden floor. There were dancers in party clothes, like them, and others in more casual jeans and shirts. There were a wide range of ages, from people younger than Maggie to people who looked older than Bucky technically was. Arching windows on the other side of the room showed a view of the city lit up at night, with the glinting black ocean in the distance.

"You chose dancing," Maggie smiled, her fingers tightening on Bucky's arm. As she watched, two giggling women in black dresses spun each other with a flare of skirts.

"Yeah." Bucky was smiling, but seemed almost… shy? "I hope that's okay, that I picked something that I already… well, that I used to know how to do. I learned a few new moves, at least."

"It's great," she reassured him with a grin. They stood arm-in-arm before the dancefloor, looking at each other. "But I think you've forgotten something crucial."

"What's that?"

"I don't know how to dance. Last time we tried we were in the dark, you didn't see-"

"Oh I saw," he said, too quickly, and then ducked his head. Maggie was torn between embarrassment at the knowledge that someone had been paying attention to her pitiful attempt at dancing, and delight that the someone had been Bucky. "But you learned how to solve three Rubik's cubes while juggling them in two days," he continued. "I'm sure you can handle this."

Maggie looked back out at the couples on the dance floor. Not everyone looked like they knew what they were doing, but she saw enough seamless partners and flourishing dance moves to make her nervous. "It's not quite the same…"

"I'll show you." Bucky's voice was soft by her ear.

Maggie bit her lip. She'd just juggled in front of dozens of people, but the idea of trying this, dancing like that, with Bucky… She took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders. She could do this. And she reflected that yes, this was something that HYDRA would really hate.

Fuck you, HYDRA, she thought, and nodded at Bucky. They left their bags and coats by the door, and then edged onto the dance floor. One song had just ended and the band was taking a few moments rest, so she had a short reprieve.

Bucky and Maggie found a clear spot by one of the arching windows, just inside the crowd of dancers but not so far in that they were surrounded, and faced each other. Maggie's gut was churning again. Bucky was there, in front of her, looking devastatingly good in his navy blue suit and waiting for her to touch him. Sensing her nervousness, Bucky didn't move. He just watched her patiently, his grey-blue eyes soft. His dark hair was untucked from his ears, the ends brushing against his jaw. The shyness from earlier had slipped away, and he didn't shrink or shift under her gaze – he remembered how to do this, and he was confident in his ability. Maggie, on the other hand…

When the opening notes of the next song started up and the other couples on the dance floor stepped together, Bucky cocked his head. "You alright, Meg? You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

She shook her head. "I know where to put my hands, just give me a second to remember."

He smirked, but something in his gaze deepened when she stepped towards him and set her right hand on his shoulder, over the seam between flesh and metal. She cocked an eyebrow and held up her other hand expectantly.

"Sure you aren't teaching me?" Bucky asked, taking her hand. The reassuring solidness of his metal hand in its glove settled on her waist. She kept her breaths steady.

The song playing now didn't have any words, just a steady, rolling rhythm, and Bucky was already moving his shoulders slightly with the beat. They stood a foot apart, their joined hands aloft and their feet planted.

"Alright, I'm just going to show you the basic steps – just watch what my feet are doing, and do the mirror image. See?" He took his hand away from her waist and started moving, stepping forward, then sideways, then back, moving in a one-two-three step with the beat of the music. "It's called a box step, you're just walking around in a square."

Maggie frowned down at his feet as he moved, her hand still in his and her arm still on his shoulder. When he stepped in again he came right up against her, his chest almost brushing her downturned head.

Once Maggie had watched him repeat the step a few times she started to feel self-conscious that she was just standing there like an idiot, so she stepped inwards with one of his back-steps.

"There you go," Bucky murmured, and his metal hand settled on her waist again, light but firm.

She immediately tripped, stepping right when Bucky went left, and her cheeks burned. She was meant to be good at learning things, this was what she got when she got distracted–

"It's alright," Bucky smiled, and then gently pressed against her side to pull her into the next step. "Don't just think about where your feet are going, you've got to pay attention to your whole body, and to mine."

"Great, more things to think about," she grumbled, but smiled at Bucky's chuckle. After another minute she started to get it, working with Bucky and the music, instead of just repeating the motions. Bucky sensed this and started to gently turn them, transforming their simple back-and-forth into an elegant circle. Maggie laughed, and couldn't resist a glance down at her feet to get a glimpse of herself dancing.

When she looked up, Bucky's eyes were on her face.

She grinned. "What, no tricks for me?"

Bucky looked skyward. "Oh, she wants tricks." Without any warning he pulled her into a quick, tight spin, trusting her to adjust to the change in pace. She squawked and her skirt snapped outwards but she held on, narrowing her eyes at him. He responded by grinning and changing up his steps a little, taking four where she only took two.

"Okay, okay! Hang on, I'm going to fall over."

"You're not falling," he said as they fell back into a more comfortable rhythm, now travelling across the floor. The smooth beat of the song washed over them. "You're doing great."

"Would I fit in at the dance halls?" she asked, leaning into the next turn. Once she knew the basic steps she found it astonishingly easy to follow Bucky's movements – she'd always known how to read him, and it seemed that reading his body was no different. She adjusted seamlessly to the bunch of his muscles, the pressure of his hands, the twinkle in his eye when he was about to do something unexpected. It was a little tricky negotiating with her heels, but she'd been able to do her whole juggling routine in them, so she quickly worked out how to take the quick, graceful steps needed for dancing.

"Absolutely not," Bucky responded, and then: "look out, I'm going to spin you."

Maggie was about to ask isn't that what you've been doing? when he released her waist and then used his hold on her hand to whirl her out in to a spin, sending her skirt and hair flying. She instinctively leaned into it, twisting her arm and then letting Bucky reel her back in, grinning. She laughed breathlessly, settling her right hand back on his shoulder.

"It's no fun when you warn me," she laughed, squeezing his hand, and something inside her went bright and fizzy at the way his face broke open in a wider smile, his eyes sparking mischievously.

"Is that right?" he asked, but missed the opportunity to spin her again as the song ended.

Maggie brushed her hair off her face, and laughed when Bucky did the same with his own hair.

"Is this alright?" he asked, eyes serious. The opening chords of the next song started.

Maggie couldn't believe he thought she might be unhappy with this: learning more people things, sharing it with Bucky, and having his hands on her and her hands on him. She cocked her head.

"You know if I didn't like it I'd tell you," she said, making him smile. "But really, look at my face-" she gave him a moment to take in her brilliant smile and flushed cheeks "- I love this. All I have to do now is get so good at dancing that you'll be so stunned by my skills that you never dance again."

They'd started moving instinctively to the opening beats of the next song, a little faster this time, small steps back and forth.

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Well then who are you going to dance with?"

"That is… an excellent point. Oh, I know this song!" The singer, a woman with sleek black hair, had stepped up to the microphone and was crooning the opening lyrics to Can't Take My Eyes Off You. While Maggie was distracted Bucky snapped her into a twirl, and laughed at her indignant expression when she was back in his arms.

When the chorus came on Maggie threw her shoulders and hips into the dance, moving with the beat and laughing. Bucky changed up the footwork again and she effortlessly followed, finding that it was easier to move with the poppier beat.

"This is a foxtrot," Bucky explained, stepping smoothly into her. "Kind of."

The song turned out to be a crowd favorite, with couples and groups flooding the floor and chanting the lyrics. Bucky and Maggie couldn't move around as much so they did what they could in their small area, spinning and twisting to the beat. In the second chorus Bucky threw his hips into it like she had earlier, and Maggie got distracted by the sight of it. She almost didn't catch the glint in his eye when he stepped in close, slid his metal arm around to the small of her back and dipped her backwards.

Maggie instinctively seized a handful of his suit jacket, making him laugh, and she felt her hair tumble backwards. Just as quickly as he'd dipped her Bucky pulled her back up, and she thumped his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, did you want a warning?" he asked innocently, pulling her back into the foxtrot, and then laughed at her narrowed eyes.

Maggie got her revenge in the next song when she tripped him up and lowered him into a dip of her own, grinning wickedly down at his shocked face. She was strong enough to hold him there for as long as she liked, his foot trapped beneath hers and her arm behind his shoulder blades, but she waited only a second or two before she pulled him upwards. His heart pounded against her splayed fingers on his back. He blinked at her, hair in his face, too surprised to seamlessly move back into dancing. For a second Maggie thought that she'd maybe done something wrong, but then he huffed a laugh.

"I can honestly say that's the first time I've done that." They stepped back into the dance and Maggie laughed at his poleaxed expression.

"Are you going to survive?"

"We'll see," he replied. "Oh, I forgot to mention, I requested a couple of songs before we got here, you'll have to guess which ones."

Maggie blinked. "Oh?" She thought about it. "Do I get any clues?"

"You'll know," he said, winking. Maggie was about to protest when she bumped into another dancer and apologised profusely.

There were some really good dancers in the hall, waltzing and foxtrotting and doing who knew what else with ease, but most people looked like they were just out to have fun.

Maggie was having fun. It was a concept she'd familiarised herself over the past year, but there was something new about doing this with Bucky – her stomach churned, her skin prickled, and her cheeks were aching from laughter.

Bucky looked like he was having fun, too. The club dancing of weeks earlier hadn't done him justice – he knew how to do this, stepping and turning and moving so smoothly with the music that Maggie felt lighter than air. He'd sold himself short when he said that he used to fudge the steps.

The next few songs were from his time, but he shook his head when Maggie asked if he'd requested them. All the same, he mouthed the words along with the singer and made Maggie laugh. He showed her a few more tricks, complicated steps and turns that made her arms and legs work in new ways.

During the next song, which sounded like it was from Bucky's time but was actually a cover of Halo, Maggie stepped back in from a turn and said: "You said you learned new moves?"

Bucky laughed. "I've been doing them! But I've got a few more tricks up my sleeve, don't you worry. Here's one of them, it should probably work." With that reassuring note, he stepped in close at the chorus of the song, put both hands on her waist and lifted. Maggie squawked and grabbed his shoulders as she was hoisted into the air above the other dancers. She was too startled to do anything but gape down at Bucky's face, grinning from somewhere around her midriff.

"I've got you," he laughed, and then lowered her gently back down with barely a hint of effort. A distant part of Maggie reflected that HYDRA had certainly not intended for their super-soldier strength to go toward dance lifts. The rest of her was pumping with adrenaline from the sudden lift, and flustered at the feel of Bucky's palms – metal and flesh – pressing against her skin.

"Alright?" Bucky asked, spinning her gently.

Maggie opened and closed her mouth. "I remember seeing the video of those swing dancers, doing all of those… spinny lifts, and things, but I didn't think you'd do it!"

Bucky swayed with the music, pulling her with him. "I didn't use to – too scared I'd drop a dame, I think." He grinned. "You're a bit more durable."

Maggie rolled her eyes, and they slowed down as the song did. "Well as long as I'm durable. You know, I didn't throw any juggling balls at your head in my half of this party, yet you seem pretty determined to trip me up."

Bucky looked a little bit sorry, but then said: "Dancing's about your instincts, and it can be about surprising the other person. I'm not trying to trip you up, Meg, I'm just…" he bit his lip, thinking. "Trying to make you laugh, I guess."

Maggie's cheeks flushed against her will, and she covered it up by glancing down at her feet.

The song started to build up again, and Bucky added: "You could pick me up if you wanted, get even. You might get some funny looks, though."

Maggie laughed, imagining the stares she'd get from picking up Bucky, who was far bulkier than her. "I'll have to settle for getting you to pick me up again," she said, with a challenging look in her eye. The singer had just built to the height of her song, belting out the lyrics with her arms spread and her eyes shut.

In the split second Maggie took to look up at the singer, Bucky stepped in close again. His hands found her waist and before she knew it she was in the air again, the cooler air on her face and Bucky's sturdy arms keeping her aloft. She let go of his shoulders and spread her arms, tilting her face toward the glittering chandelier. The music washed over her and she grinned, allowing herself to feel how happy she was in this moment, dancing with Bucky.

Maggie was startled by how much it felt like flying.

When she lowered her arms Bucky pretended to drop her, letting her freefall for a split second before he caught her around her middle and lowered her the rest of the way. Of course, this had the effect of bringing her very close to him by the time her feet hit the floor. Face flushed, hair wild, Maggie's breath caught in her chest at the sight of Bucky so close, his arms around her and her whole vision filled with him. She watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. His grey-blue eyes were dark.

The attraction, Maggie was familiar with. But the sudden prickle of fear – nerves? – that washed across her at the prospect of him so close, with nothing holding her back… that was new. She swallowed and began stepping with the beat again, fumbling for his shoulder and his hand in an attempt to find some dancing pose that didn't feel quite so much like an embrace.

"Um," she said, and winced. "So you said you were learning these moves, how did you do that by yourself in a safehouse?"

Bucky's eyes flickered across her flushed face, and he must have been satisfied with what he found because a small smile lifted his lips for a moment, and then he eased back into the movements of the dance. "This whole experience is going to seem a lot less smooth if you go picturing that, doll."

Damn. Just when she'd been working herself back from whatever that moment was, he went and called her doll. She remembered how he had explained the meaning, and she noted that he was saying it now when no one else could hear. She felt the tips of her ears flame with heat, and she suddenly didn't know where to look. But she couldn't help but laugh at his comment, picturing him watching how-to videos alone in a safehouse and dancing with an imaginary partner.

The next song came on, and Maggie gasped. "This one!" she exclaimed, jumping on the spot. "You requested this song!" It was Glen Miller's In The Mood, and she recognised it because it was the first song Bucky had ever shown her.

Bucky grinned and nodded, and pulled her into a faster-paced dance, stepping and twirling in and out from each other. Maggie started kicking her feet and rolling her arms, like the dancers in the swing video she'd seen, and Bucky laughed.

"What are you doing?"

She spun in place. "Teach me to Jitterbug, Bucky!"

"Aw, jeez."

What followed was a very poor explanation of swing dancing, until Maggie eventually told him to dance the way he would have seventy years ago and she'd follow along. He got into that, lowering his centre of gravity so they could spin in and out from each other, Maggie trying to imitate his effortless kicks and footwork. He was really in his element here, stepping and spinning, his hands guiding her without feeling pushy. She got the sense that dancing would be far harder with a less experienced partner, who didn't know how to work with her natural balance and rhythm, who didn't know how to make her laugh and feel utterly supported and trusted.

They danced every single song, having more than enough endurance, though Maggie's muscles burned at the new movements and her face was flushed. That last part might have been because of the exertion, or the warm room, but she knew the real reason.

Michael Jackson's The Way You Make Me Feel came on, and Maggie didn't even have to ask if Bucky had requested it - the look in his eyes was answer enough. After dancing together for most of the song, he spun her and then pulled her close, murmuring into her ear: "Here's another new move."

He let go of her for a moment – Maggie was startled at how cold she felt without him – winked at her, and then proceeded to execute a perfect moonwalk away from her. His shoes slid across the floor and his muscles bunched and loosened with each step. Maggie put a hand over her mouth, laughing, and only laughed harder when a nearby group of dancers wolf-whistled. Bucky looked up, and there wasn't an iota of embarrassment on his face – he was utterly confident, in every aspect of dancing. He planted his feet, cocked an eyebrow at Maggie and gestured as if to ask well?

Maggie gave him a round of applause, and ignored the skip in her heartbeat when he strode back to her and took her in his arms as if she belonged there.

"That was incredible!" she grinned at him. "You teach me that, and I'll teach you to juggle."

"It's a deal," he smiled, as the next song started. It was slower, and Maggie only vaguely recognized it. "That's it for the songs I requested. This has been… a great party, Meg."

They were dancing much closer than they'd started out, the small sliver of air between them warm and charged. Prickles were running down Maggie's skin wherever they touched, but she didn't feel uncomfortable. She felt good, as if she'd never run away from Bucky and left them both alone and miserable. She remembered what Beatrice had said about being a thinker, or a feeler. She could think through the possibilities and consequences of this all she liked, but she couldn't deny that being with Bucky made her happy. She'd had precious little happiness in her life, and she wasn't going to turn away the happiness she had now.

The song was slow, and sweet, and Maggie just wanted to melt into Bucky. His hands were steady, and his glittering grey-blue eyes were bursting with that familiar expression, the one she used to think looked like he was seeing her for the first time. Maggie realised she was smiling softly.

The dancing they'd been doing before was playful, energetic, but this wasn't a song to show off in. This song invited them to simply hold each other and be.

Maggie felt another crackle-spark of attraction flare in the space between them, and her gut swooped when Bucky's eyes flicked down to her lips. They were so close, Bucky's left arm wrapped around her waist and her right arm cradling his shoulder. She noticed that her left thumb was sweeping back and forth across the back of his hand.

Maggie realised three things at once. The first was that Bucky had been gauging, testing throughout the night – the purposeful touches, the dancing, calling her doll. He'd been trying to work out how she felt about him, somehow picking up on the paradigm shift in recent weeks.

The second thing she realised was that he wasn't going to act on whatever he'd found out, and she knew why. They'd been on the run together for a year now, and though they'd talked extensively about it, she knew he still bore guilt for the deaths of her parents. That was his right – he knew she'd forgiven him, but he still felt what he felt.

He wasn't going to make the first move because of that guilt, and because he'd shown, in his words and his actions over the past year, that he valued her choices. He knew better than anyone how few choices she'd had in her life, and he gave her every opportunity to exert her will now that she was free.

The third thing Maggie realised was that this was an opportunity, and she sure as hell wasn't going to let him get away with doing nothing. She wanted this, wanted him. Always. Forever. Feeling this good felt crazy, and she wasn't going to let it go. Nothing worse than regrets, sweetheart.

So she made the first move. Her heart was pounding against her ribcage, and her stomach churned. She could barely concentrate on stepping in time to the music, she was so focused on this moment.

She couldn't take a few minutes to think about it this time, this was a time to act.

She was too jittery to look Bucky in the eyes, so she watched her hand as she slid it across his shoulder and up the side of his neck, feeling his smooth, warm skin under her fingertips. Goosebumps rose under her touch, and his Adam's apple jumped under her thumb. She trailed her fingers up his neck, sliding to cup his jaw. It was clean shaven, and the feel of him, warm and solid under her palm, made the breath catch in Maggie's chest.

Her eyes flicked to his, and her breath stuttered again to see him watching her intently, his eyes dark and serious. Maggie's hand moved incrementally, and her fingertips brushed his ear.

"Is this okay?" she asked, her voice low and surprisingly steady. She was kind of dazzled by the simple act of touching him, and how good she felt.

Bucky swallowed again, eyes on her, and nodded. "Meg, are you sure?"

"Pretty damn sure," she breathed, and oh, they were close now, their noses brushing, breath mingling, nothing but Bucky's eyes before her, grey and blue and warm. Maggie realised – again – that she still hadn't done any research on this, but one moment she was thinking about kissing him and the next she was, his lips warm on hers. Her eyes drifted closed.

Maggie was too overwhelmed by the sheer pleasure of kissing Bucky to think. Her brain shorted out and her body took over, leaning into him and doing what felt right. She didn't have time to think about breathing, or her one other experience with this, because Bucky was there, finally, his lips – oh, his tongue – his hands in her hair, his scorching touch and the whir of his arm–

Maggie probably should have been thinking about breathing, because after a long moment she had to break away, gasping for air, taking only a moment to laugh at herself and Bucky's blue, confused eyes before she leaned back in, pressing herself against him and melting under his lips.

After a few more moments of her whole body imploding at how good she felt, her brain came back online – albeit sluggishly – and she paid attention to some of Bucky's cues, tilting her head so their noses stopped bumping together, and learning from the sure slide of his lips and teasing darts of his tongue. She mirrored what he did back to him, and smiled into the kiss when his arm whirred. Heat coiled in her gut and shot in sparks down her legs and arms, lighting up anew with each press of Bucky's lips against hers.

Conscious that this was a public space, and it probably wasn't appropriate to start making noise – because that was apparently something that her body wanted to do, now – Maggie gently pulled back. She couldn't resist a few more darting kisses though, planted over Bucky's surprisingly red mouth. She wondered if her lips looked like that, now – they certainly felt tender.

Maggie laughed breathlessly, her forehead still pressed against Bucky's, almost vibrating out of her skin with an emotion she identified as joy. Bucky's flesh hand was in her hair, cupping the back of her head, and his metal arm was wrapped around her waist. Maggie took a moment to remember where her limbs were, and realised that she was on the balls of her feet, with one hand still on Bucky's jaw and the other looped around his neck.

She grinned at him, taking in his blown pupils and the crinkles beside his eyes, the thumping heartbeat that pounded from his chest into hers.

"How the hell are you meant to breathe?" she asked, and Bucky's eyes sparked with laughter.

"With your nose, doll." He kissed her on the nose, as if she might have forgotten where it was. When he met her eyes again his gaze was filled with emotion; affection and want and a little surprise. He slid his nose against hers, and Maggie realized that a new song was playing.

"Why?" he asked, breath against her lips, moving his fingers in her hair.

Maggie shrugged, and decided she was well within her rights to run her fingers along his cheekbone, like she'd been wanting to do for a while now. "Life doesn't always make sense," she whispered. "And you're… you. I don't know, I'm not good at this." What she'd just done sank in a little, and she met his eyes again. "Bucky," she said urgently. "My whole life in HYDRA has been… cold. This can't be like that, I don't want that any more. This has to mean something."

"Meg, I…" Bucky shook his head, and the words seemed to choke in his throat, but Maggie could see how much he wanted what she was asking for: his eyes, which she'd been able to read in place of words for years, were bright. She could see how much he cared about her, and it took her breath away.

They leaned together again simultaneously, and this time the kiss was slow, sure; just moving lips and pounding hearts. Maggie's hand slid into Bucky's long hair, and he shivered when her nails scraped his scalp.

She was very grateful for the tip about breathing through her nose, because it meant she could kiss him for a lot longer.

After another song, Bucky pulled back and clenched his jaw, something darker crossing his face. "Are you sure about me, Meg? Everything I've done, especially to you-"

"Bucky," she sighed, dropping back onto her heels and looking at him. "I am sure. And I… I can't imagine feeling this way about anyone other than you." She looked into his eyes, making sure he really understood that she meant it. "Are you sure?"

"Been sure a while now," he grinned wryly, "But I thought you needed me to be your friend, so-"

"Same, but this is much better." She grinned at him. "Now get back over here, I don't think I'm very good at this and the best way to learn is practice."

"Oh, you're doing just fine," Bucky said, and ran a hand through his hair.

Maggie smiled at him, and thought that she should probably do some research on whether it was possible to have a heart attack or an embolism from feeling so much. "Come on," she said, reaching for him as the next song started. "More kissing."

He came willingly, reaching up to cup her jaw like she'd done only minutes earlier. "Yes, ma'am."