While this wasn't exactly something he had expected to do today, it wasn't like she was interrupting any important plans or anything. Bucky wasn't as social as the rest of the gang, still uncomfortable in crowds and still trying to get out of weekly counselling, so his days are usually spent in the tower's gym or holed up in one of the various empty rooms trying to keep himself distracted. Some days, like today, he'd throw on one of the hoodies Steve had brought for him, gloves to keep his metal hand unnoticed, and walk around the block outside for some fresh air.
It was one of those days when he returned from a few hours outside, barely kicking off his shoes when he heard noise and Russian cursing not too far away. Concerned, he'd headed quickly towards the source of the commotion, only to discover the notorious Black Widow herself having some sort of altercation with a set of stairs and a ridiculously high pair of heels.
If he was at all surprised by the situation, he didn't let it show. Bucky didn't even say a word as he made his way over to her, guiding her arm over his shoulders as he moved his around her, metal under her legs and flesh around her back. He lifted her up carefully, wasting no time as he brought her to the nearest empty room with a comfortable enough couch to set her down on. He knew her well enough that being seen as a damsel in distress was the last thing on her wishlist, so staying out of the way of any prying eyes was a priority. Stark was probably busy in the garage anyway.
Once she was settled, Bucky crouched down on the floor to inspect the damage. It was definitely a sprain, so next he made his way to the nearest cooler or freezer (easy enough to find, what with all the bars in the tower.) He returned a few minutes later, a cold bag of frozen vegetables wrapped in a cloth in hand, and he pulled up an ottoman to sit on, carefully bringing her injured foot up to rest in his lap and gently setting the cloth over her ankle.
"Didn't feel like leaving you on the stairs," Bucky answered, a hint of a smile on his lips as he checked on her ankle again. Still swollen, but not terribly so, at least. "Someone might've tripped over you."
no subject
It was one of those days when he returned from a few hours outside, barely kicking off his shoes when he heard noise and Russian cursing not too far away. Concerned, he'd headed quickly towards the source of the commotion, only to discover the notorious Black Widow herself having some sort of altercation with a set of stairs and a ridiculously high pair of heels.
If he was at all surprised by the situation, he didn't let it show. Bucky didn't even say a word as he made his way over to her, guiding her arm over his shoulders as he moved his around her, metal under her legs and flesh around her back. He lifted her up carefully, wasting no time as he brought her to the nearest empty room with a comfortable enough couch to set her down on. He knew her well enough that being seen as a damsel in distress was the last thing on her wishlist, so staying out of the way of any prying eyes was a priority. Stark was probably busy in the garage anyway.
Once she was settled, Bucky crouched down on the floor to inspect the damage. It was definitely a sprain, so next he made his way to the nearest cooler or freezer (easy enough to find, what with all the bars in the tower.) He returned a few minutes later, a cold bag of frozen vegetables wrapped in a cloth in hand, and he pulled up an ottoman to sit on, carefully bringing her injured foot up to rest in his lap and gently setting the cloth over her ankle.
"Didn't feel like leaving you on the stairs," Bucky answered, a hint of a smile on his lips as he checked on her ankle again. Still swollen, but not terribly so, at least. "Someone might've tripped over you."