Hearing the actors speak your words and seeing them act out a story that once only lived in your head was still a new and bizarre sensation for you. Beginning with you sitting in a room by yourself, staring at a blinking cursor for hours on end all the way through casting, production and editing until finally it all came to life, it was a miracle. It was also strange and wonderful to see someone witness your work for the first time. You couldn't stop yourself from observing out of the corner of your eye as Bucky watched the action on the ancient television screen before you.

Bucky was content to sit back and munch on popcorn at first but as the action got intense, his hands stilled with gaze unwavering. You sat beside him, feet resting on the coffee table next to where the popcorn bowl now rested. He made small comments and asked questions throughout, which thrilled you. You didn't answer though, not wanting to taint his experience.

The Agent first caught the case as several murders were tied with a common weapon, from there he sought motive and gathered evidence. Once he found a connection in victims, he saw the pattern and it was a race against time to catch the killer.

You hid your face behind your fingers as the big twist came up, fearing that you'd give it away. The Agent finally had a solid lead finding the assassin but once a hidden file was decrypted, new evidence came to light. Grainy video footage played on the screen as the man in question was brought into the room and strapped to a chair, his memory wiped until he was a shell of a man. Orders were given and he carried them out emotionlessly, which begged the question: was the assassin responsible for his actions? Should the Agent be hunting the man who pulled the trigger or the organization responsible?

As the plot twist played out, Bucky nearly held his breath with a hand gripping your knee. You don't even think he meant to do it, but he was so caught up, you didn't want to interrupt and question the action. Besides, you didn't mind in the slightest. The movie played on with the Agent going rogue and falling deeper down the rabbit hole in search of the assassin, although less with intent to capture and more in need of answers. The climactic scene arrived where Agent met Assassin face to face for the first time.

Tensions ran high as the assassin found himself cornered, but Agent made no move to capture. By then he hardly resembled his former self, his once short-cropped dirty blond hair now long and shaggy with a fully-grown beard over his usually clean shaven face. He had disobeyed orders when he followed the assassin off the map and now stood before his target.

"I don't do those things anymore. I haven't since I escaped. I didn't have a choice..." the assassin spoke, desperation gripping his words.

"I know."

"Then why are you here? Why can't you leave me be?" he pleaded.

"I need answers. Who are they? What do they want and how did you escape?"

"If you know what they've done to me, then you know I can't answer much, but I'll give you all I have....if you'll let me go. You'll never hear from me again."

Against his better judgement and training, the Agent agreed, but somehow his gut told him it was the right call. As the end credits began to roll, Bucky exhaled heavily and sunk back into the couch, releasing his grip on your knee.

"Holy hell," he exclaimed, running fingers through his hair. "I feel like my muscles have been tense for the past hour and a half. I can't believe you wrote that. I mean, I totally believe it, but...wow," he spoke in awe, rolling his neck and shoulders to relieve tension.

"Why, thank you," you answered with a smile.

"So...the Agent just lets him walk away, even helping the assassin fake his death?"

"Yup."

"Wow. But...there's still so many unanswered questions. What happened with the evil organization? Can the Agent get back into Interpol's good graces? Will the assassin stay true to his word and disappear? I just..."

"I know," you replied. "That was the point. It wrapped up well enough to be a stand-alone, but there have been talks about a sequel. I've been approached to write it, but I haven't had a chance to dive in yet to see if there's enough to the story. I've been pretty caught up in my current project...." you trailed off, covering your mouth as a yawn escaped you.

"Oh yeah? And what's this new project?" Bucky asked, intrigued as he shifted on the couch to face you.

You chuckled. "Well, that one is going to have to wait a while. It's a little early for announcements, but things are slowly rolling ahead."

Bucky cocked an eyebrow, unsatisfied with your non-answer but willing to let it go. "Okay. So, who's the guy who played the agent? I think I've seen him before..." he asked, reaching to glance at the DVD case displaying the title "End of the Line" in bold letters.

"Steve Rogers," you answered on instinct.

"Yeah. He was in those superhero movies, right?" Bucky asked, his eyes still on the case with Steve's bearded, rugged face on the cover.

"Um...yes, he was," you replied vaguely.

"You said you were on set sometimes, did you ever meet him? Or the other actors?"

"I did. Several of them. Really great people," you said, still holding yourself back from telling the whole story for some reason. "Steve was...he's very much a method actor. He stayed in character almost the whole time on set, so the few times I saw him in person, it was intense." You stopped yourself then, thinking back on how you felt like you didn't actually meet Steve until the wrap party where you met the kind, light-hearted, funny man you now knew intimately. Or you used to.

"That's so cool. I hope there is a sequel and that you're the one to write it. You're very talented, Y/N," he said genuinely, holding your gaze.

"Thank you, Bucky. That means a lot," you replied with a soft grin, which was then interrupted by another yawn of betrayal. You didn't want this moment to end.

Bucky smiled softly at you. "Alright, you need your rest so I won't keep you any longer. I put fresh sheets on the bed yesterday, so they should be fairly clean. Go ahead and use the bathroom if you need to. I'll shower after," he offered, then standing and you followed his action.

You headed down the hall, but then stopped and turned back toward him, your expression serious. "Bucky...I'm sorry for the way I acted back then. I never should have asked you to leave your home at the drop of a hat as if it meant nothing. I was selfish and naive. I shouldn't have belittled this small town life or those who choose to live it. You're such a good man and if I hurt you, I..."

"Hey, hey," Bucky interrupted and closed the distance between you with a soft caress of his hand on your arm. "It's all in the past. I'm okay. We are okay. I promise," he assured you with a smile.

"Okay," you replied before reluctantly slipping out of his grasp.

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Tired as your body was, sleep eluded you. Your mind was a tangle of thoughts and emotions, and trying to sort them out seemed impossible. You had heard the running water of the shower half an hour ago and now the house was silent.

Your mind kept wandering to the next room where Bucky lay. Coming this far for answers and closure, you had somewhat succeeded, but you were still in need of something more. You found yourself on your feet, heading for the door and prying it open quietly. There was a magnetic pull drawing you toward the living room, tangible yet invisible.

Stepping lightly, you walked around the end of the couch to see Bucky sprawled across its cushions. He was shirtless, wearing a pair of grey sweats with an arm tucked under his head. The storm seemed to have passed, moonlight shining on the hardwood floors as you approached. Bucky's face was shadowed, his expression unreadable, but somehow you knew his night was sleepless as well.

That tug under your rib cage reeled you toward him. Stepping between the couch and coffee table, you took a seat on the table's hard surface, even with Bucky's smooth chest of sculpted muscle. You clasped both hands between your bent knees and within seconds you felt calloused fingers brushing over yours gently. Bucky raised up on one elbow and the moonbeams found his handsome face, stormy-grey eyes reflecting everything you felt inside.

He brushed a hand behind your neck and pulled you closer, capturing you in featherlight kiss at first, but in seconds it was smoldering and desperate. You felt him shift up to sitting as he pulled you toward him, your knees landing on either side of him. Bucky's large hands pressed against your back until you were chest to chest, lips and tongues demanding more.

You yelped against his mouth as he lifted you, legs wrapping around his waist as he stood. He found his way to the bedroom in the dark with no trouble, then placing you lightly on the mattress. He knelt between your legs but then paused, your chests heaving as he took a long look at your adoring face with a lustful but soft expression.

"God, I missed you," he breathed out, to which you smiled before pulling him back down to meet your waiting lips.

Hands slipped under the henley of his you wore before it was pulled over your head, then off came both pairs of sweatpants. He was surprised to see you wore nothing underneath. Logically, your underclothes still were wet from the rain, but you had also wanted the fabric of his clothes as close against your skin as possible. Now it was only skin contact you required. A square foil packet was discovered in his bedside table and as if no time had passed you were joined as one, feeling all the perfect pieces fall into place.

Familiar rough hands raised goosebumps across your skin. While lips sucked and nibbled, you felt those flames of desire fill you more and more until they erupted from you in a glorious burst of pleasure with Bucky following shortly after.

Some time later you both were enjoying the familiar comfort of being in each other arms as your fingers traced patterns on the smooth, tanned skin of his chest next to where your head lay. Bucky let out a contented sigh and rubbed a hand across your bare back. Exhausted as you both were, neither of you were willing to lose this time together to the tempting snares of sleep. It was you who broke the comfortable silence.

"I've missed you, too," you admitted quietly. "I may have...glossed over a few things about my arrival in L.A. Yes, I was overwhelmed and lost and doubted whether I could ever fit in there and make a life for myself...but I was also heartbroken," you whispered the last few words, finally turning your face to meet his eye. "I told myself for the longest time that it couldn't happen in just one weekend, that I had blown the whole thing out of proportion and I was only fooling myself. But there were times when I wondered why I said goodbye. One of the things that kept me going was your voice in my head saying I was meant for more. Your faith in me meant the world and I just...I have to thank you. You're part of the reason why I succeeded, Bucky," you said, voice full of emotion.

Bucky offered a smile, bending toward you to capture your lips in a lingering kiss, then parting. "That was all you, doll. I can't take credit for any of that but I'm glad I could tell you what you already knew: that you could do whatever you set your mind to. You were never far from my mind, either. I thought the same: one weekend? Can three days change your life? It seemed like it. I kept your receipt with your phone number taped over the desk in the office for a long time, so sure I would have the courage to call. I don't know what I would have said, but...you're here. I can hardly believe it," he spoke in a husky voice.

A tear escaped as you smiled up at him, so grateful that life and chance brought you back to him. "As difficult being apart has been the past few years, I know there's still no easy answer," you said honestly, "but I don't want to say goodbye again. Whatever happens....however it happens, I need you in my life, Bucky. This seems right, can't you feel it?"

He nodded immediately in agreement. "I'm in. Whatever happens, I am all in. I'm not letting you go again, even if long-distance is how it has to be. We'll give it a try," he declared, holding your gaze.

"Yes," you answered, feeling so much hope and promise in that one word.

"Until then..." Bucky began, shifting you onto your back as he now hovered above you, "I think we need to make up for lost time."

You giggled with a nod, getting lost in his kisses and caresses that somehow felt like coming home.

________________

You stayed up for hours together, talking, laughing, making love...Bucky even pulled out his guitar and played a naked, acoustic version of "Let it Be" by the Beatles, one of your favorites. Your previous curiosity about his owning a cell phone returned, so you asked. He produced an outdated flip phone and you let out a chuckle, but shouldn't have expected anything different at this point.

You programmed your number in his phone and vice versa, even taking a moment to show him how to text. You failed to hold back your laughter as you watched him peck out a three-word reply that took him five minutes to send. He retaliated by tickling your sides, which soon led to more lovemaking. Wrapped up in his arms afterwards, sleep eventually took you, hard as you tried to fight it.

A kiss to your brow and a light touch against your cheek woke you some time later. "Y/N....I'm sorry to wake you, but I didn't want you to worry. I'm going to the shop for an hour or two then I'll be back and I'll bring your suitcase," Bucky whispered in the morning light.

Groggy, you went to sit up, "I'll come with you..."

"No, no, you rest. I just need to check things over with DumDum and clear my morning because I'm taking you to breakfast, doll. Try and stop me," he smiled, nuzzling against your neck as you tried to hold on to him with heavy limbs. He chuckled at your attempt. "I'll be back soon."

You gently slipped back under the covers with the promise of breakfast and Bucky sweetening your dreams.

_______________

The bell jangled lightly over the door and Bucky held it open as you entered the diner. So many memories came rushing back as your eyes wandered to the booth where you had spent hours planning and drinking too much coffee that weekend.

"Y/N?" a surprised voice rang out from behind the counter.

You turned to see the familiar face with bright red lips now stretched in a huge grin. "Hi, Nattie," you greeted as she walked around the end of the counter and pulled you into a hug.

"I thought my eyes were playin' tricks on me, I can't believe it. Look at you, all dressed up and gorgeous. What brings you back to town?" she asked, then her eyes settled on Bucky behind you and her eyebrow raised in intrigue and understanding.

"It's good to see you, too, Nat," you smiled. "And unfortunately, I'm headed to my home town for a funeral. Got caught in the rain last night, though, so I stayed..." you trailed off, glancing at Bucky.

"Uh huh...." she replied, eyes flickering between the two of you. "And look what the cat dragged in, Mr. Bucky Barnes gracing us with his presence. He usually just sends poor Pete to pick up lunch these days," she teased.

"Morning, Nat," he rolled his eyes with affection as she pecked a kiss on his whiskered cheek. "Is Clint here?" he asked, surveying the crowd of customers throughout the diner.

"Of course he is, right at the end of the counter with the little one," she pointed and your gaze followed, now seeing the sandy-haired man with a young child in his arms, maybe 9 months old. Nattie walked down that way with you and Bucky following. She took the child from Clint and brought her toward you for introductions. "This is my little angel, Talia. Best thing that ever happened to me," she cooed, pressing a kiss to her daughter's strawberry-blonde head.

"Hey!" you heard a shout of protest from behind the redhead.

She rolled her eyes in affection and pulled her husband toward her as he looped an arm around her waist, rings now visible on their fingers. "And I guess I kinda like him, too," she teased.

"That's more like it," Clint grinned. "Buck, who's this lovely lady and how did you catch her? She's clearly out of your league," he jabbed at the dark-haired mechanic.

"Oh, I'm well aware of that," Bucky replied with a smile. "You remember Y/N."

"Of course, I was just teasing. Good to see you again, Y/N," he said, leaning in for a one-armed hugged.

"We're gonna have some breakfast before Y/N has to hit the road, any open booths?" Bucky inquired.

"Of course, hun, take that one right over there. I'll be over in a minute," the redhead answered with a point of her finger.

"Thanks, Nattie. And congratulations," you told her, gripping her hand tightly for a moment before walking away.

You slipped into a booth across from Bucky and opened the menu, noticing not much had changed except that they actually attempted to have a gluten-free option, which was noble of them. It was basically a requirement in L.A. Your eyes settled on Bucky then, drinking in every inch of him as if to burn his image in your mind.

You cleared your throat. "I may have been half asleep this morning, so correct me if I'm wrong, but...did you refer to someone at the auto shop as 'DumDum'?" you asked, amused.

Bucky barked out a laugh as his face lit up, causing those flutters in your stomach. "Yeah, I did. Tim Dugan, also known as DumDum, was one of my army buddies. We've kept in touch since I got out and he contacted me about a year ago, asking if I knew of any jobs. He just had to get out of where he was living and needed a change, so I offered to bring him on. And he likes the nickname, I promise, although the origin of it escapes me..." he looked off into the distance as if the answers could be found there.

"I see. Does he like it there? At the shop, I mean?" you asked him, still perusing the menu between glances his way.

"Seems to. He's picked up the skills quickly and even has taken on some of the ordering of parts and paperwork, so that has lightened my load quite a bit. It's strange not to have the whole place to myself, but...nice to have a break every once in a while," he shrugged.

"And Peter? When did he come in?"

"About six months ago. He's trying to raise some money for college and the pizza place wasn't busy enough. Also, his Aunt May told me he could use a 'good male influence' after his uncle passed away. I suppose us knuckleheads could provide that maybe?" he joked with a smirk.

You spoke with a laugh, "Hm...I guess it's possible," you said with a wink. "Speaking of nicknames, I'm a little embarrassed that I haven't asked how you got the nickname 'Bucky'. It's not exactly derived from 'James', is it," you stated.

"No, it's not," he chuckled. "But also not terribly complicated. My middle name is Buchanan, so that's where 'Bucky' comes from."

"James Buchanan Barnes. Good, strong name," you told him, threading your fingers with his on the table top.

He shrugged with a grin, "I kinda like it."

Nattie returned and you ordered, asking for a slice of Boysenberry pie for the road before you'd even had breakfast. You and Bucky talked and ate, trying not to hear the ticking clock of your pending departure. You waved goodbye to Nattie, Clint and little Talia before Bucky drove you back to your rental car parked at the auto shop.

Bags already in your car and a slice of pie on your passenger's seat, it all felt like deja vu but this time, it wasn't goodbye. Bucky pressed a kiss to your lips and pulled you into a tight hug, both of you feeling that it may have to last for a while. You released him in exchange for another kiss as tears threatened.

Finally letting go and slipping behind the wheel, you turned the key and the engine purred to life. You rolled down the window and Bucky's hand found yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles.

"I'll call you before I leave town," you promised, wishing there was more you could guarantee him.

"Okay," he replied, ducking his head into the car for one last lingering kiss.

You pulled out of the parking lot and glanced in the rearview mirror to see Bucky still standing there as he raised a hand in goodbye. But it didn't feel like a farewell this time. Somehow, it felt like only the beginning.

More to come...

______________________

Eeee!! I hope you liked this part! What did you think of the movie she wrote? And how about that late-night reunion? ;) There were promises made and hopes shared, but how do you think long-distance will work out? Plus Clint and Nattie with little Talia! So cute. Another goodbye, but not forever. I hope to have the next part up soon! Any thoughts are appreciated! <3