"Hello?" Bucky called after knocking on the lab door. No answer. He knocked again, his tongue playing with his teeth. Still no answer. He tried the handle, and it clicked open. Stepping inside slowly, he called out again, but his voice met an empty room. Some machines were whirring with power on the countertops, but there didn't seem to be a living soul. "Stark?" His shoulders slumped. He really needed his arm fixing. He was about to give up when a clatter resounded from the door at the back of the room.

Then you stumbled out.

"Oh!" You said as you looked up at him, using darkly painted fingers to push your hair out of your eyes, and then ... then he really noticed your eyes ...

They were a similar kind of brown as the whiskey he drank last night, with flecks of a rainbow shimmer behind them, shining out across the room, looking up at him and swallowing him whole as you walked over.

"Do you need something?" You spoke, with a bite in your voice. He had a hard time trying to think of the words that should be coming out of his mouth. So he coughed, buying himself some time.

"I uh.." He paused. What was he here for? You were waiting for him to elaborate, your hands clasped together neatly in front of your dark, ripped, skintight jeans, your printed t-shirt creasing behind the pressure of your arms.

"Arm!" He finally said, quite a bit louder than he intended, making your eyebrows shoot up momentarily. "My arm," He gestured to his left appendage. "It broke." He watched you blink a couple of times.

"It broke?" You asked as you narrowed your eyes at him. He nodded. Your hands moved to your hips, and he could now see what looked like a band logo plastered across your t-shirt. "A state of the art, vibranium plated, scientifically engineered prosthetic arm, broke?" He nodded again, and this time you scoffed. "What did you do to it?"

"Nothing, it just broke."

You had a very hard time believing him. You glared, waiting to see if he would tell you the truth. He didn't waver. He was holding your gaze, which usually makes people squirm after a few seconds, but he wasn't shifting enough to indicate he was about to cave in.

"Well then, take it off and Stark will look." You said.

"What?" He snapped, frowning at you. He didn't take off his arm.

"Take the arm off. Leave it here. Stark will fix it. Is that difficult to understand?"

"It's...I..Sorry who are you?" He asked, suddenly feeling like you were pissed off at him, but you just scoffed and headed back to where you came from.

"If you don't want it fixed then don't, have fun with a janky arm."

You stopped walking when you heard another voice from behind you.

"What's going on here?"

You turned to see Tony waltzing into the lab with an expression that switched between anger and shock as he took in the scene before him.

"He broke his arm." You said, folding your arms across your chest. "Barged in here demanding it be fixed."

"I - No I did not! I knocked and asked you to fix it, you just decided to be-" Bucky argued back.

"Alright! Alright, TinMan, sit over there, I'll get my tools." Tony pointed to a chair closest to the door, and then glared at you when Bucky started walking off."You shouldn't be out here." He said to you, in a lower voice that was only directed at you.

"Didn't hear him come in, I just wanted some more solder." You said as you shrugged, grabbing the solder you needed from the cupboard and waving over your shoulder as you retreated back to your den.

Tony grabbed his tools and headed over to Bucky, who was already taking his jacket off so that he had access.

"Your assistant is very ..." Bucky trailed off, not sure whether to be truthful to him.

"Assistant?" Tony asked, his emotions unreadable.

"Yeah...I...sorry, I assumed, because she was in here...is she not?"

Tony scoffed. "Barely." He muttered. "She's a pain in the ass."

Bucky wanted to smile in agreement at that. But he didn't. Him and Stark were still working through their...past. He didn't want to ruin the progress they'd made. And although he agreed that this ...woman was a pain in the ass, he didn't know enough about her to comment.

You stomped through your den, chucking the solder onto your work table, a hot feeling of anger rising in you.

You knew of Bucky. You'd be stupid not to. Anyone who had heard of Hydra had heard of the Winter Soldier. And you had definitely heard of Hydra.

You just hated the fact that even after everything he did, everything that detestable organisation did, everyone in the compound was supposed to just welcome him with open arms, purely because the Holy Captain America said he was fine now.

The machinery in front of you thrummed with low vibrations.

Rolling your shoulders, and your neck, you took a deep breath in, and got back to work.

Some time passed, but you weren't sure how long. What you were sure of, was that there was suddenly now a dark shadow cast over your workbench, obscuring your view of the motherboard.

You looked up to see Tony standing there with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Can I help you?" You snarked.

"What were you doing?" He said, his voice steady, but definitely not calm. She put her tools down.

"I assume you're talking about your Cryo-boy friend." You replied, swivelling on your stool to face him. "I told you, I was out there getting solder, he was just standing there. Stuttering and spluttering about his arm not working. Barely said anything to him."

"You're not supposed to be out there."

"Well I didn't he would be there. I thought you locked the door whenever you went out." You huffed before standing and walking over to your boxes and supplies, rummaging through them, not to find anything in particular, more to keep your fingers occupied.

"What if he found out?"

"He didn't."

"Did you tell him your name?"

"No." You assured him as you turned around to face him. He regarded you for a few seconds, then sighed, and all the anger dropped from his face as he ran his hand over it.

"Guess you're my assistant now then." He finally muttered.

"I'm sorry, what?" You blinked at him in shock.

"He assumed that the tiny human running around my lab was my assistant. I didn't exactly correct him."

"You should have."

"And say what?" He half shouted at you. You fell silent, your lips pursed. You didn't have an answer to that.

"Well, I suppose it was always going to happen one day. I can't always be cooped up in your office, or in here." You said, rolling your eyes. He sighed, walking over to you, his hands resting on your shoulders.

"I never wanted it to happen, you tiny little Cyclone."

"That's restricting my freedom."

"You don't..." His words trailed off, not wanting to say what he was thinking.

"Right." You pushed his hands off. "I don't want freedom. Because it's bad and I'll get hurt and all that other nonsense. Yeah, I know. But sometimes I do need to go and get solder. Or a decent coffee. Didn't have to lie and say I work for you though." He shook his head and pulled you in for a hug, not letting you push him away, even though you tried.

"I'm just scared for you. I don't want you to be taken away from me because people have found out who you are."

"They haven't. He didn't." You sighed, as an idea started to form in your mind. He pulled away enough to look at you. "He now thinks I'm your assistant. And if you told him that, with history, there's no reason no one else can know. So now I can walk around, and people will just think I'm doing jobs for you, right?" You saw his jaw clench. He didn't want that, you could tell, but you also knew that there was no logical reason for him to say no.

"You can stay in the lab." He finally agreed. You huffed. "And maybe go to the staff break room." You raised an eyebrow. "I'll think about decreased restrictions tomorrow, okay?"

"Thanks for reconsidering my parole terms." You smiled sarcastically and pushed him off playfully, sticking your tongue out at him, walking away to your workbench, both of you knowing that he always said yes eventually.