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shanachie_quillTitle: Well It Seemed Like a Good Idea
Characters: Ariana Barton/James “Bucky” Buchannan Barnes
Fandom: Avengers 2012
Series: Assassin Baby
Written For: irishjeeper/ k3nj1ph1
Prompt: Ariana and Bucky out for a day
Summary: Ariana and James are in Washington, DC and decide to take in one of the sights.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: my series, general ones for the Marvel universe
Warnings: Feelings oh so many feelings, James facing some of his past, Sometimes Ariana’s ideas might not be the best
Disclaimer: No one recognizable belongs to me, not making any money off this.
Author's Note: This is one of the stories I’m writing for irishjeeper for her birthday. So a little late, but finished! I just figured I should put this out there. I started Assassin Baby after Avengers, but before Phase 2 actually started. So a lot of what I had planned/written/designed now doesn’t fit into the world we’re seeing on the big and small screen. I’m not going to go back and re-write it because honestly it just doesn’t mean that much to me that my stories go along with canon. I mean they’re already AU because of Ariana. And my timeline really doesn’t work with the timeline they have for Winter Soldier, since Ariana is fourteen the first time she meets Bucky (not even mentioning the whole S.H.I.E.L.D./Hydra fiasco). So I’m not going to completely ignore the events in the movies/TV shows, but I’m not going to worry about the timelines meeting up or things working perfectly either. I’m going to worry about my timeline. I’ll still use Avengers and the invasion as a bouncing off point for the starting point to tell you how old Ariana is (and for where in time we are... which btw for anyone wondering, I’ve been assuming that’s 2012), but I’m not going to hold myself to being perfect for anything else. If something else becomes important, I’ll deal with it as it comes up. Meanwhile, I hope you enjoy the stories!
Eighteen Years After the Attempted Chitauri Invasion
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” James said as he watched Ariana sort through her duffle bag for only she knew what.
“I don’t know why not,” she replied. “It’s not like anyone is going to immediately recognize you.”
“And how are you expecting to get this…” He tapped his arm. “Past security?”
“Are you telling me that you don’t have military ID?” she questioned. “I know Captain does.”
“That’s still not solving the issue…” he started. “Metal detectors, doll.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Because when you set it off, we can’t just flash your ID and ya know explain that you lost your arm in the war. Nothing says we have to say which war.” She glared at him when he opened his mouth to protest again. “And I know damn well you have ceramic knives so don’t even try to use that as an argument. And I’ll take SERA. So we won’t be unarmed.” She faced him with her hands on her hips. “Any other arguments?”
James sighed, knowing very well he’d lost the argument to her. “Fine. But I don’t understand why you want to see it so badly.”
“Because it’s your history. Yours and Captain’s.” She grinned. “And I want to see how much they got wrong.”
James shook his head. “Only you.”
James sighed as predictably the metal detector went off as he walked through it. He had no idea how his handlers had moved him around for years without this problem, but he was really getting to the point where he wanted to discuss with Stark a better choice for his arm. The billionaire had already upgraded him, but it was still metal which set off just about every detector he came in contact with.
Ariana followed him through, her bracelet also pinging as she moved. Two security guards motioned for them to move towards the side and they went willingly. “We’re going to ask you to remove the metal,” the first one said. “And we’re going to need to pat you down.”
“That’s going to be a bit of a problem,” James said. “I want to be cooperative, but it can’t exactly be removed.”
The guard looked confused. “You’re going to have to explain a little better,” he said.
“I’m going to move nice and slow,” James told him. “I’m just taking my ID out of pocket, okay?” When the guard nodded, James suited actions to words, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. “I’m… I was… military. What set off your detector is… well an experiment.” He handed his wallet over, then just as slowly pulled the glove off his left hand. “I was injured overseas.”
“I’m sorry, Sergeant Frost,” the guard said, handing James his ID back. “For the questions and your… injury.”
“Not a problem,” James replied. “You were just doing your job.”
Ariana handed over her ID as they turned their attention to her. “My bracelet doesn’t come off. It’s a GPS tracker. My parents are a bit paranoid.”
“Of course, Miss Barton,” the guard said. “If I could…”
She held her arm out, allowing them to scan the bracelet. A moment later the two of them were on their way. “GPS tracker?” James asked in Russian as he took her arm to guide her through a knot of people.
“Unca Tony has a sense of humor,” Ariana answered him in kind. “To a normal scanner, SERA reads as a tracker. And with the last name I have.” She shrugged elegantly. “I told you it would work.”
James flipped his ID open, showing her the name on it. “We need to talk to Skye about her sense of humor,” he said, continuing to speak Russian since it didn’t appear anyone else around them was speaking the same language.
Ariana stifled a giggle as she read the name on the ID. “Jack Frost? Now I want to see what name she put on Captain’s ID.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask.” He glanced around, looking at the planes that surrounded them. Some of them were so familiar and some clearly from a time after he’d fallen and been captured. “Any idea where we need to go? I don’t want to wander in here for hours.”
“Um.” Ariana spun around for a moment, and then pointed. “Thataway.”
James eyed her for a second. “Your sense of direction is better than your father’s, right?” he questioned.
Ariana rolled her gray eyes. “Dad’s sense of direction is just fine; it just happens to include up and down.”
“Yeah well most people’s brains don’t work that way,” he pointed out.
“Not my fault,” Ariana answered.
A growl escaped from James’s throat, but Ariana just grinned, clearly not afraid of him. “Where are we going?” he bit out.
She switched to English, apparently thinking they might be drawing too much attention by continuing to speak in Russian. “This way. And to rest your mind, I looked at the map.”
She took ahold of his left arm, tugging him in the correct direction. “Let me know if you need to leave.”
“Most everything has come back,” he said in French, “but some of it is still… foggy as if it happened to someone else.”
“In a way it did,” she pointed out, adopting the same language. “You aren’t that person anymore from the 1940s anymore, but you aren’t the… the thing the Red Room made you either.” She leaned against his arm, glad Tony had been able to fix the arm so he could feel simple changes in pressure. “I think the man you are is the man you were meant to be.”
James looked at her. “How’d you get so smart?”
“Think about who I grew up around,” she answered dryly.
He just shook his head, allowing her to pull him in the direction she’d indicated. “I’m not sure if that’s a comfort or if I should reach for a weapon,” he commented.
He took a deep breath as they reached the entrance to the exhibit. “If you don’t want to go in, we don’t have to,” Ariana said, coming to a halt just out of the flow of traffic. “I didn’t think…”
James wrapped his arm around her shoulders, careful as always not to squeeze too tightly. “It’s fine, doll. There aren’t any demons in there.”
“Let me know if you want to leave,” she answered quietly.
“I might just walk out,” he warned her.
“I got it.”
Taking another fortifying breath, James dropped his hand and started forward. Ariana moved so she was on his right instead, wrapping her hand around his flesh one and allowing him to lead the way. For a few minutes, James didn’t know which way to turn. All around him were memories, memories of things that over time had come back to him, but that he tried not to think about every day. He held Ariana’s hand tighter as they moved farther into the exhibit.
James pulled her to a stop in front of a picture of Howard Stark, the man surrounded by replicas of Steve’s shield. “He made… I don’t know ten or fifteen different versions of the stupid shield Steve was carrying on stage. Steve was… inordinately fond of that stupid thing. It was like… the stage one was completely useless for the most part. But that new one…” James shook his head. “It was amazing. Stark was… an asshole. Like father like son, but brilliant.”
“Also like father, like son,” Ariana pointed out.
The ex-assassin snorted at that. “I know Tony keeps sayin’ he hates his father… but he really is… a lot like him. And he looks a lot like him.”
“I know. Dad said it freaked Captain out the first few times. It’s probably why they argued so much at first.”
“No. That’s just Steve being as much of a stubborn ass as Tony is.” He tugged Ariana’s hand to get her moving again. “I know there’s this whole mystical Steve is purer than driven snow mythology behind Captain America but…”
“Jamie, I grew up with him tossing me around. I’m well aware of what Captain America is like when he’s not in public view.”
“And yet you call him ‘Captain’ as if that was his name,” he pointed out.
“I was four when I met him. And my dad called him captain and Uncle Coulson and so did my mom on occasion. Kinda stuck in my head.”
James paused as they came face to face with what had been the memorial to him. Ariana could still remember the fight he and Steve had had once James had remembered enough of his memory to fully understand who he was. James had wanted the memorial removed completely; Steve had just as adamantly refused. He had mourned his best friend, had died and woken up thinking he was dead and gone and that Steve would live out his life without any of his friends, especially his best friend.
“Well. It’s not a memorial anymore,” Ariana commented.
“This is not what I was talking about when I told Steve I didn’t want a memorial anymore,” James groaned.
Ariana hid a grin in his shoulder as they stared at the ‘continuing’ memorial. It was clear it had started as a memorial to James, but as the other Howling Commandos had passed away, they had been added. Still it clearly stated that James had been the only Commando to fall during the War.
He shook his head at the wall and turned, taking a deep breath at the sight of all their old uniforms on manikins, arranged together with Steve at the vanguard. After a moment he turned abruptly, clearly forgetting he was still holding tightly to Ariana’s hand and headed for the exit. She squeaked before hurrying to keep up with him.
When they were out in the warm sunshine and fresh breezes of the Washington Mall, she finally felt safe enough to pull him to a stop. “How about…” She faced him with her hands on her hips for a minute, then grinned. “Want to go shoot shit?”
“What?”
“Target practice? Paintball?” She held up a hand. “Darts?”
James leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her lips. “What did I do to end up with you?”
“Um, fell off a train, seventy years of brainwashing, tried to kill your best friend, trained my mom, survived my father’s rather ludicrous threats,” she listed.
“You realize you’re insane, right?” he asked.
“I repeat, think about who I grew up around. So… shooting things?”
“Yeah.” He took a deep breath. “Yeah that sounds good.”
Characters: Ariana Barton/James “Bucky” Buchannan Barnes
Fandom: Avengers 2012
Series: Assassin Baby
Written For: irishjeeper/ k3nj1ph1
Prompt: Ariana and Bucky out for a day
Summary: Ariana and James are in Washington, DC and decide to take in one of the sights.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: my series, general ones for the Marvel universe
Warnings: Feelings oh so many feelings, James facing some of his past, Sometimes Ariana’s ideas might not be the best
Disclaimer: No one recognizable belongs to me, not making any money off this.
Author's Note: This is one of the stories I’m writing for irishjeeper for her birthday. So a little late, but finished! I just figured I should put this out there. I started Assassin Baby after Avengers, but before Phase 2 actually started. So a lot of what I had planned/written/designed now doesn’t fit into the world we’re seeing on the big and small screen. I’m not going to go back and re-write it because honestly it just doesn’t mean that much to me that my stories go along with canon. I mean they’re already AU because of Ariana. And my timeline really doesn’t work with the timeline they have for Winter Soldier, since Ariana is fourteen the first time she meets Bucky (not even mentioning the whole S.H.I.E.L.D./Hydra fiasco). So I’m not going to completely ignore the events in the movies/TV shows, but I’m not going to worry about the timelines meeting up or things working perfectly either. I’m going to worry about my timeline. I’ll still use Avengers and the invasion as a bouncing off point for the starting point to tell you how old Ariana is (and for where in time we are... which btw for anyone wondering, I’ve been assuming that’s 2012), but I’m not going to hold myself to being perfect for anything else. If something else becomes important, I’ll deal with it as it comes up. Meanwhile, I hope you enjoy the stories!
Eighteen Years After the Attempted Chitauri Invasion
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” James said as he watched Ariana sort through her duffle bag for only she knew what.
“I don’t know why not,” she replied. “It’s not like anyone is going to immediately recognize you.”
“And how are you expecting to get this…” He tapped his arm. “Past security?”
“Are you telling me that you don’t have military ID?” she questioned. “I know Captain does.”
“That’s still not solving the issue…” he started. “Metal detectors, doll.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Because when you set it off, we can’t just flash your ID and ya know explain that you lost your arm in the war. Nothing says we have to say which war.” She glared at him when he opened his mouth to protest again. “And I know damn well you have ceramic knives so don’t even try to use that as an argument. And I’ll take SERA. So we won’t be unarmed.” She faced him with her hands on her hips. “Any other arguments?”
James sighed, knowing very well he’d lost the argument to her. “Fine. But I don’t understand why you want to see it so badly.”
“Because it’s your history. Yours and Captain’s.” She grinned. “And I want to see how much they got wrong.”
James shook his head. “Only you.”
James sighed as predictably the metal detector went off as he walked through it. He had no idea how his handlers had moved him around for years without this problem, but he was really getting to the point where he wanted to discuss with Stark a better choice for his arm. The billionaire had already upgraded him, but it was still metal which set off just about every detector he came in contact with.
Ariana followed him through, her bracelet also pinging as she moved. Two security guards motioned for them to move towards the side and they went willingly. “We’re going to ask you to remove the metal,” the first one said. “And we’re going to need to pat you down.”
“That’s going to be a bit of a problem,” James said. “I want to be cooperative, but it can’t exactly be removed.”
The guard looked confused. “You’re going to have to explain a little better,” he said.
“I’m going to move nice and slow,” James told him. “I’m just taking my ID out of pocket, okay?” When the guard nodded, James suited actions to words, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. “I’m… I was… military. What set off your detector is… well an experiment.” He handed his wallet over, then just as slowly pulled the glove off his left hand. “I was injured overseas.”
“I’m sorry, Sergeant Frost,” the guard said, handing James his ID back. “For the questions and your… injury.”
“Not a problem,” James replied. “You were just doing your job.”
Ariana handed over her ID as they turned their attention to her. “My bracelet doesn’t come off. It’s a GPS tracker. My parents are a bit paranoid.”
“Of course, Miss Barton,” the guard said. “If I could…”
She held her arm out, allowing them to scan the bracelet. A moment later the two of them were on their way. “GPS tracker?” James asked in Russian as he took her arm to guide her through a knot of people.
“Unca Tony has a sense of humor,” Ariana answered him in kind. “To a normal scanner, SERA reads as a tracker. And with the last name I have.” She shrugged elegantly. “I told you it would work.”
James flipped his ID open, showing her the name on it. “We need to talk to Skye about her sense of humor,” he said, continuing to speak Russian since it didn’t appear anyone else around them was speaking the same language.
Ariana stifled a giggle as she read the name on the ID. “Jack Frost? Now I want to see what name she put on Captain’s ID.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask.” He glanced around, looking at the planes that surrounded them. Some of them were so familiar and some clearly from a time after he’d fallen and been captured. “Any idea where we need to go? I don’t want to wander in here for hours.”
“Um.” Ariana spun around for a moment, and then pointed. “Thataway.”
James eyed her for a second. “Your sense of direction is better than your father’s, right?” he questioned.
Ariana rolled her gray eyes. “Dad’s sense of direction is just fine; it just happens to include up and down.”
“Yeah well most people’s brains don’t work that way,” he pointed out.
“Not my fault,” Ariana answered.
A growl escaped from James’s throat, but Ariana just grinned, clearly not afraid of him. “Where are we going?” he bit out.
She switched to English, apparently thinking they might be drawing too much attention by continuing to speak in Russian. “This way. And to rest your mind, I looked at the map.”
She took ahold of his left arm, tugging him in the correct direction. “Let me know if you need to leave.”
“Most everything has come back,” he said in French, “but some of it is still… foggy as if it happened to someone else.”
“In a way it did,” she pointed out, adopting the same language. “You aren’t that person anymore from the 1940s anymore, but you aren’t the… the thing the Red Room made you either.” She leaned against his arm, glad Tony had been able to fix the arm so he could feel simple changes in pressure. “I think the man you are is the man you were meant to be.”
James looked at her. “How’d you get so smart?”
“Think about who I grew up around,” she answered dryly.
He just shook his head, allowing her to pull him in the direction she’d indicated. “I’m not sure if that’s a comfort or if I should reach for a weapon,” he commented.
He took a deep breath as they reached the entrance to the exhibit. “If you don’t want to go in, we don’t have to,” Ariana said, coming to a halt just out of the flow of traffic. “I didn’t think…”
James wrapped his arm around her shoulders, careful as always not to squeeze too tightly. “It’s fine, doll. There aren’t any demons in there.”
“Let me know if you want to leave,” she answered quietly.
“I might just walk out,” he warned her.
“I got it.”
Taking another fortifying breath, James dropped his hand and started forward. Ariana moved so she was on his right instead, wrapping her hand around his flesh one and allowing him to lead the way. For a few minutes, James didn’t know which way to turn. All around him were memories, memories of things that over time had come back to him, but that he tried not to think about every day. He held Ariana’s hand tighter as they moved farther into the exhibit.
James pulled her to a stop in front of a picture of Howard Stark, the man surrounded by replicas of Steve’s shield. “He made… I don’t know ten or fifteen different versions of the stupid shield Steve was carrying on stage. Steve was… inordinately fond of that stupid thing. It was like… the stage one was completely useless for the most part. But that new one…” James shook his head. “It was amazing. Stark was… an asshole. Like father like son, but brilliant.”
“Also like father, like son,” Ariana pointed out.
The ex-assassin snorted at that. “I know Tony keeps sayin’ he hates his father… but he really is… a lot like him. And he looks a lot like him.”
“I know. Dad said it freaked Captain out the first few times. It’s probably why they argued so much at first.”
“No. That’s just Steve being as much of a stubborn ass as Tony is.” He tugged Ariana’s hand to get her moving again. “I know there’s this whole mystical Steve is purer than driven snow mythology behind Captain America but…”
“Jamie, I grew up with him tossing me around. I’m well aware of what Captain America is like when he’s not in public view.”
“And yet you call him ‘Captain’ as if that was his name,” he pointed out.
“I was four when I met him. And my dad called him captain and Uncle Coulson and so did my mom on occasion. Kinda stuck in my head.”
James paused as they came face to face with what had been the memorial to him. Ariana could still remember the fight he and Steve had had once James had remembered enough of his memory to fully understand who he was. James had wanted the memorial removed completely; Steve had just as adamantly refused. He had mourned his best friend, had died and woken up thinking he was dead and gone and that Steve would live out his life without any of his friends, especially his best friend.
“Well. It’s not a memorial anymore,” Ariana commented.
“This is not what I was talking about when I told Steve I didn’t want a memorial anymore,” James groaned.
Ariana hid a grin in his shoulder as they stared at the ‘continuing’ memorial. It was clear it had started as a memorial to James, but as the other Howling Commandos had passed away, they had been added. Still it clearly stated that James had been the only Commando to fall during the War.
He shook his head at the wall and turned, taking a deep breath at the sight of all their old uniforms on manikins, arranged together with Steve at the vanguard. After a moment he turned abruptly, clearly forgetting he was still holding tightly to Ariana’s hand and headed for the exit. She squeaked before hurrying to keep up with him.
When they were out in the warm sunshine and fresh breezes of the Washington Mall, she finally felt safe enough to pull him to a stop. “How about…” She faced him with her hands on her hips for a minute, then grinned. “Want to go shoot shit?”
“What?”
“Target practice? Paintball?” She held up a hand. “Darts?”
James leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her lips. “What did I do to end up with you?”
“Um, fell off a train, seventy years of brainwashing, tried to kill your best friend, trained my mom, survived my father’s rather ludicrous threats,” she listed.
“You realize you’re insane, right?” he asked.
“I repeat, think about who I grew up around. So… shooting things?”
“Yeah.” He took a deep breath. “Yeah that sounds good.”
