She extended a hand toward him. "I can explain."

"Don't bother," he said brushing away her hand as he tried to move past her. "My memory is pretty clear."

She felt like a kid that had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, but she knew she shouldn't feel guilty about what had happened. When she realized that he intended to stalk off yet again, a surge of anger enveloped her and before she could second guess herself, she lashed out at him with her magic, binding his arms to his side.

His eyes grew large and in the light emitted by her magical rope, she could see the anger darkening them. For a moment she was afraid she'd gone too far, but she was determined to see this through. Holding the other end of the tether, she began to wind it around one arm as she pulled with the other. She saw the look of shock in his eyes as he was pulled toward her against his will. He may have been stronger than her physically, but the serum was no match for her magic.

"You don't get to walk away from me again," she told him once they were eye to eye again.

"Let me go," he hissed through his clenched teeth.

She shook her head. "Not until we talk about this."

"What's there to talk about?" he asked as he tried in vain to break the magical hold she had over him. "You had a mission, and you failed."

His words stung, but only because she'd thought the same thing herself. It was one thing to think it, but it was another to hear someone else give voice to the doubts within herself. "I would have succeeded if someone hadn't decided to play Romeo."

"You didn't have to dance with him, you know?"

A look had come over his face that she couldn't quite describe. It wasn't anger – anger she could understand. As she stared into his eyes, she suddenly realized why it seemed so familiar to her. For the past decade she'd seen that look in her own eyes and hated herself every single time that emotion had surfaced within her.

"You're jealous," she told him, and had a moment of satisfaction when his eyes shift away from her. She had intended to goad him into admitting it, but then another thought struck her. "I don't get it. Why would you be jealous of yourself?"

He turned back to her and leaned in close. "That man – the one you were dancing with, the one you kissed – that wasn't me."

She took a step back from him and her brows furrowed in confusion. What did he mean, that wasn't him? She eyed him warily as she tried to understand his reasoning. "Explain."

He dropped his head. "That man is dead, YN. HYDRA killed him in 1945."

Her breath caught in her throat. How could she have not seen this? Of course he wouldn't feel a connection to the man he used to be before HYDRA filled him with their poison. She didn't see him like that, though. To her, there was no difference between the man standing before her and the one that had been holding her in his arms not more than an hour ago.

Her magic blinked away in an instant as she raised a hand to lay on his chest. He could have walked away from her at that moment, so she took it as a good sign that he stayed. "He's not dead, Bucky. He's right here." She patted her hand over his heart to emphasize her point. "HYDRA tried to kill him, but they failed."

He looked up at her and she found herself mesmerized by those intense blue-grey eyes yet again. They were the same eyes that had stared longingly into hers right before he'd kissed her. She could see the desire in his eyes, but she found herself wondering if he truly found her attractive, or if it was simply a result of the memory of the kiss she'd shared with the younger version of himself earlier in the night.

Bucky watched as her eyes began to darken, and he longed to pull her into his arms. All he had was a memory of the way she'd felt – the way she'd tasted – and he desperately needed to experience it at this moment to see if she was as intoxicating as he remembered. He raised his left hand without thinking, and ran a finger down the side of her cheek. When she flinched away from his touch, reality came crashing back down. It wasn't him that she wanted. How could she? He was nothing more than a broken shell – not even a complete man with this metal monstrosity attached to his shoulder. She needed – no, she deserved a man that was whole, both in body and mind.

She hadn't been able to control the involuntary reaction to the feel of the cold metal against her face, but she saw the way his demeanor changed in an instant. She could feel him pulling away from her even though he hadn't yet moved, but she knew it wouldn't be long before he was walking away from again. Reaching out, she grabbed his vibranium hand and brought it to her lips. Her eyes never left his as she placed a tender kiss to the palm.

"Your hand was cold," she told him, her voice barely a whisper. "That's all it was, I promise."

He wasn't sure he believed her, but when she turned her head and lay her cheek against the palm of his hand, he realized he wanted to believe her. He needed to believe her. He needed to believe that she could still want him after being with the man he used to be. Steve had no problems reconciling the two versions of himself, but Steve didn't have to worry about getting hurt – not with the serum. A woman, on the other hand, a woman had everything to fear from him. Physical intimacy brought with it a vulnerability that could be dangerous if he couldn't rein in his own strength. He'd kept that part of himself shut down because it wasn't worth the risk just to sate his own desires. But with her actions tonight, she'd awakened that part of himself again and he was finding it hard to remember his earlier convictions on the matter.

She watched the internal struggle as a myriad of emotions played over his face. She could see the desire and the doubt fighting for dominance behind his expressive eyes. It wasn't until his fingers curled into her skin that she realized that desire had won out. Elation soared through her as he leaned in and kissed her for the second time that night.

YN wasn't sure what she'd been expecting with this kiss, but she realized that she wasn't all that shocked when it turned out to be exactly like the one from the dancehall. The feel of his lips was familiar, but not so much the hand that still cupped her cheek. Without the threat of interruption, they were able to lose themselves in one another, and even the odd sensation of cool metal against her skin faded away as the passion coursing through her veins dulled her ability to think.

His right hand soon joined his other as he framed her face. Her own hands had come to rest on his chest and she marveled at the difference between the lean body she'd been pressed against at the dancehall and this thicker, more muscular one beneath her fingers. The contrast had her mind reeling, so she focused on the feel of his mouth against hers. At least that was the same, and it was just as seductive now as it had been then.

He was drunk on the taste of her. It was just as he'd remembered, but yet somehow more potent. He was greedy for more, but he didn't want to push her into anything she wasn't ready for.

She ran her hands up over his shoulders and loosened the knot at the nape of his neck so she could bury her fingers in his hair. A smile played at the corners of her lips as she realized she liked the longer hair on him more than the shorter style he'd kept in his younger years.

When she pressed her body flush against his, he couldn't stop the moan that vibrated through his chest. He felt her lips spread into a smile as he continued to kiss her and he knew at that moment he'd do anything to make her happy. He still wasn't sure if it were really him that she wanted to be with, or the younger, more carefree version she'd met tonight, but he was selfish enough to put aside his worries and enjoy the moment.

She wasn't sure how long they'd stood in the middle of the room locked in the passionate embrace, but she knew they'd either have to stop soon or continue down this road somewhere a little more comfortable. She was hoping for the latter option, but she didn't want to push him. Her hands left his hair as they began to travel back down his body, her fingers grazing over the hardened muscles beneath the button-down dress shirt. She wanted nothing more than to feel his flesh beneath her fingers, but she was scared of moving too fast. When she felt him start to push her back toward the bed, she reluctantly pulled away from his kiss and grabbed ahold of his tie to pull him back a little quicker.

The mischievous gleam in her eye as she tugged on his tie had a new wave of desire flooding through him. He'd been hesitant to move too fast, but judging from her reaction, he'd been too slow. He allowed her to pull him back until the backs of her thighs hit the edge of the mattress. His hands went to her waist as he gently lifted her so that she was sitting on the bed. Never taking his eyes off of hers, he trailed his right hand down the length of her thigh and then cupped her calf to raise her leg to his waist.

"You're not wearing any stockings," he said with a confused look as he caressed her bare leg below the hem of her dress.

"Yeah, that's probably never going to happen," she told him with a grimace. "It's way too hot outside and that garter belt looked really uncomfortable."

"Doll," he said, his voice laced with exasperation. "Do you have any idea how sexy a garter belt and stockings are?" She gave him a disbelieving look, so he decided a hands-on lesson was needed to get his point across. Sliding his hand around her knee, he began to slip it up and under her dress as he leaned in and whispered in her ear. "If you were wearing stockings, then you wouldn't really be able to feel my hands gliding up your legs." His hand stopped, but he continued speaking. "I'd stop just below the lacy edging, and wait until I heard the breath catch in your throat." He waited for a beat and wasn't disappointed when he heard her breath begin to quicken. "Then" he said, drawing out his words as his hand demonstrated. "I'd slowly begin to stroke your bare inner thighs with my thumbs until your legs began to quiver beneath my touch."

She may not have been wearing the garter and stockings, but between him whispering in her ear and his fingers dancing over her sensitive skin, she was having the exact same reaction he was describing. If she'd known how sexy he found the undergarments, she wouldn't have hesitated to wear them. It was too late to do anything about it now, but she'd definitely endure the torture of wearing them tomorrow if it meant she could experience all the pleasure he was he was promising tonight.

Leaning back, she met his gaze. The moonlight shining through the window wasn't much, but her eyes had grown accustomed to the dark. His thumbs continued to tease her, and she was slowly starting to lose her mind. She grabbed his tie and began to loosen the knot, sliding it from beneath the collar of his shirt and tossing it toward the pillows at the head of the bed. They may find a use for that later. With their eyes locked, she began to undo the buttons on his shirt, one by one, letting her fingers graze over the bare skin she was exposing as she continued her journey downward.

He'd always loved to let a woman undress him, almost as much as he loved undressing a woman. There was something to be said for the fashion of this time period with all of the buttons that had to be painstakingly undone. It was a type of foreplay in and of itself, and he was glad that he could at least have this one familiarity for his first time with her. It was a comfort to him since it was all he'd ever known of lovemaking, and he felt somewhat in control of this situation because of it.

When she'd finished unbuttoning his shirt and began to slip her hands inside, he took a step back away from her. He tried to convince himself that he was just teasing her, but he knew it was because of his arm. The scars where the original arm had been fused to his flesh were mostly gone thanks to Shuri, but it was still a shock for some people to see the sudden shift from flesh to metal. He'd rather she see it before she felt it. For some reason, he thought he could handle a look of revulsion from her more than he could the feel of her hand jerking away.

She saw the wariness in his eyes and was confused for a moment before he briefly glanced toward his left shoulder. Realization dawned on her and her chest tightened when she finally understood why he'd pulled away. She wasn't sure what her reaction would have been to have suddenly been reminded that one of his arms was made of metal. He'd made sure not to touch her with the vibranium hand too much, and she knew it was because he was self-conscious about it. She wished she could tell him how beautiful his arm was – that she loved the thin gold inlays between the plates of vibranium and how they caught the reflected the light when the sun hit it just right. She may tell him eventually, but now didn't seem like the right time. Now he needed to handle things in his own way, and she wouldn't stop him, no matter how badly she wanted to reassure him that it didn't matter to her.

Twisting around on the bed, she shifted her legs beneath her so that she was sitting back on her heels. He was taking his sweet time slipping the shirt off of his shoulders and she wondered if he was intentionally trying to tease her. She caught a glint of something in his eyes as undid the buttons at his wrists, and she was almost positive that she was right about the teasing.

Raising one eyebrow in annoyance, she pretended to check the time on her wrist. She heard him chuckle and was glad she'd made the joke. The smile on her face began to fade as he started shrugging out of his shirt. She knew that his arm went up to his shoulder, but she'd never seen just how far it extended toward his collarbone and over his chest. Resisting the urge to turn him around so she could see how much of his back was covered by the arm, she tried to school her features so he wouldn't see the sadness in her eyes.

Eventually the urge to have her hands on him again overpowered her reasoning, but she was careful where she touched him. Remembering that he hadn't objected to her hands on his pecs, she started there. His skin was smooth and warm with passion and she reveled in the way the muscles beneath her fingers jumped as she scraped her fingernails down his abdomen. He let out a guttural moan as her fingers played over the waistband of his trousers, but she wasn't ready to go there just yet. Sliding her hands back up his chest, she began to move towards his shoulders. Pausing for a moment, she silently asked permission before she moved any further. The moment stretched out for what seemed like hours, but eventually he gave her a curt nod and she tentatively ran a thumb over the line between flesh and metal.

He gritted his teeth and waited for her to pull away from him, so when he felt her lips against his shoulder, he was shocked. His eyes flew open as he watched her tenderly kiss along the scar that had up until that moment repulsed him. Now he was looking at it through her eyes, and suddenly it wasn't that bad anymore.

She could feel his eyes on her, but she wasn't worried. He hadn't pulled away from her, so she took it as a good sign. Pulling away, she met his gaze again and saw the disbelief in his eyes. Knowing the next move was on her, she grazed her fingers down his arms and and grabbed his hands. Lifting them to her chest, she gave him a wink. "Your turn."

A switch flipped in him. He'd gone from hesitant and unsure to aroused again with only two words from her lips and a ridiculously sexy wink. He was ready to pick up where they'd left off, but there was something else he needed to know before he continued. The debate had raged within him about whether or not he should say something, but he knew if he didn't, he'd always be left wondering.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asked, looking deep into her eyes as though the answer to his question could be found in those beautiful depths.

"I'm practically begging you to rip my clothes off of me," she said with a smirk. "How much more reassurance do you need?"

He closed his eyes and tilted his head back as he took a deep breath. Meeting her gaze again, he rephrased his question. "Are you sure you want me?" She still seemed puzzled, so he added, "You're not secretly thinking about him, are you?"

She rolled her eyes and let out of huff of agitation. "For the last time, he is you."

It was his turn to be confused, but he eventually figured out what she was talking about. "I'm not talking about the other me."

"Then who are you talking about, Bucky?" she asked, still not sure what he was talking about.

"Stark," he whispered, almost scared to say his name out loud.

Her mouth dropped open and she leaned away from him a bit. Tony? He thought she was pretending he was Tony? The idea was so ridiculous she wanted to laugh, but she knew that would do nothing but push him away from her. Since that first kiss in the dancehall, he'd occupied all of her thoughts, and she hadn't thought of Tony, not even once. She wasn't ready to say she was completely over the man she'd longed for for years, but for once, another man had kissed her and she hadn't given the billionaire a single thought. Her mind went back to that conversation with Nat back in Prague. Nat had told her when she met the right guy, she'd forget Tony ever existed. She truly doubted she'd ever forget about Tony, but right now he wasn't the man at the forefront of her mind, and to her that was major progress.

"Bucky," she said finally, saying his name with enough conviction to get him to really listen to her. "I want you." She grabbed his vibranium hand and laid it over her heart. "I want your hands on my body. I want your lips kissing mine. I want my hands buried in your hair and your name on my lips when I finally go screaming over the edge."

Her impassioned speech erased all of the doubts in his mind, and he wasted no time popping each of the little red buttons on the front of her dress. She'd raised up on her knees and had captured his mouth with hers. She seemed to be pouring every ounce of passion she had into the kiss, in what he assumed was her effort to prove to him in actions that she meant what she had said. At that point, he was beyond caring. She was soft and warm in him arms and the only thing he was concerned about were the moans and sighs of pleasure he elicited from her with every kiss of his lips and caress of his hands.

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