#by tllgrrl aka Nefertiri Jones

[tllgrrl]

Grimes 68 by @tllgrrl aka nefertiri jones

Summary: After almost 8 years apart, Michonne finds Rick Grimes, the love of her life and father of their children, and he brings her into the Civic Republic Military. For the time being: 1) She has to pretend to be someone else to avoid being seen as a threat; 2) He has to figure out a plan for the two of them to get out; and 3) They have to try and act like they’re strangers to each other instead of reunited lovers.

(The key word is “try”.)

* * * * *

*CLANK…CLANK…CLANK…*

The steel kill sticks striking against the brick wall rang in the parking lot of what was left of a post office.

A former postal service semi that now had protective grills over the windows led the next herd of the dead, or what the CRM called “deltas”— “delts” for short—into the large space on the one side of the harvest wall.

The shuffling hoard was drawn by the noise and flashing lights mounted on the truck.

*CLANK…CLANK…CLANK…CLANK…*

The consignees readied themselves on the other side, and as the delts shambled to open spaces in the wall, each one was met with a blow that drove a sharp, prong-ended spear (“kill stick”) into its skull, followed by a twist of the wrist that destroyed its brain, effectively and finally killing it.

It was a repetitive, bloody, mind-numbing grind, and some said that it was brutal for the workers because it wasn’t easy to completely forget that the delts were once living human beings too.

Grimes had done his time at The Wall. He’d even become a legend with the number of kills he could rack up in a shift.

It was painted in big letters on the side of a nearby building, for all to see:

GRIMES 68.

He was also well-known for the number of attempts he’d made to do something no one else in the City wanted to do: Escape. Wanting to leave the safety and security of the CR so badly that he actually cut off his own shackled hand at the wrist, only to fail again and be brought back to the Wall.

Time and time again an officer in the Civic Republic Military gave him a chance to join up, and he refused each offer, preferring to be at the culling facility, killing the dead and planning his next escape attempt.

Then one day, he accepted the offer. He traded his Consignee jacket for a CRM uniform. Instead of using a kill stick, he got a fancy, deadly prosthetic hand with a retractable blade. He got all kinds of specialized training, all the perks as he rose through the ranks, and he never had to cull delts again.

But now, after having been gone for years, there he was. Back at the Wall. Watching.

Watching her.

The new consignee.

The dark-skinned Black woman with her hair cut short on one side of her head, exposing a beautiful profile; and locs cascading down just past her shoulder in the back and on the other side of her face .

The woman who, after her on-boarding interview, was designated a Type “B”, seeking safety, willing to work, and keeping to herself, but had the carriage and demeanour of an “A” who was always observing, was more than capable of defending herself, and being a provider of safety. A leader.

Word soon got around among the Consignees that the ex-consignee/now military officer known as “the famous Rick Grimes” had not only survived a chopper crash, but he’d started showing up at the harvest wall. Coming back to a place he’d gotten away from years earlier, only to return when a mysterious new consignee was brought into the CRM.

*CLANK…CLANK…CLANK…*

“Hey. Look who just pulled up,” said a consignee who had her red hair tied back with, of all things, a bright pink ribbon that was tied in a bow.

“Holy shit! ‘zat Grimes?” another consignee added, tying a bandana on his head, cholo style, then slipping on his face shield. “He doesn’t have to be here any more. What’s up with that?”

“Bethune’s not-so-secret admirer,” snickered the worker to pink bow’s left, stabbing his kill stick into a delt that sagged and dropped. “She doesn’t see him yet. But she knows he’s there. Watch. In 3..2..1.”

Michonne—known to the other consignees as “Dana Bethune” —stationed at the far end of the wall, continued to methodically dispatch delts.

Then she stopped, looked over her shoulder, and found the tall CRM officer. Standing there, at ease, even with his helmet and face guard on, she knew he was watching her.

It seemed like they stood there, the only people at the wall. 5…10…15 minutes. Watching each other. Breathing the same air. At last…

3 seconds later, she turned her head back to the oncoming delts, and went back to work.

Behind her mask, the other consignees couldn’t see the small smile that graced her lips, or hear her whisper “I found you.”

Behind his mask, no one could see the CRM officer smile as he whispered “You found me.”

*CLANK…CLANK…CLANK…*

“You see that?” drawled the consignee to pink bow’s right, continuing to spear oncoming delts. “Somethin’s up with those two.”

“I know, right? For the past two weeks, he’s here. Same time every day she’s on shift, just before third break. Look at him lookin’. Even wearin’ the consignee jacket, the mask, an’ her hair all tucked in, it only takes him a second to find her. And a second for her to know he’s here. Like they’re—”

“Might could be that ass is imprinted on his brain!” laughed a big man nearby with a bushy black beard.

“Maybe it’s because she saved his life out there.”

“Peterson said somethin’ about that. It’s true?”

“‘parently so. His chopper went down. Got blown right outta the sky and crashed.”

“You serious?!”

“Word is it was a scrub with some kinda RPG an’ shit,” a consignee added to the story while wiping a splatter of brains and blood off of his face guard.

“Stop lyin’! How’d they even get that? After the Fall, CRM took over most of the bases out there with a quickness.”

“There was military stuff out in the wild even before everything went to shit. All kinds o’ stuff is still out there,” bushy beard opined. “Shouldn’t be a surprise all these years later somebody has a bazooka or some ordinance hidden away. There’s jeeps, even tanks here and there. I lived in one for a couple o’ months before I got found and brought here. CRM scoops ‘em up quick as they can, but—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. So anyway, the scuttlebut’s that Sargent Major Loverboy there, an’ the other troopers jumped out of the wrecked chopper an’ the scrub starts firein’ on ‘em. The ones he could catch, he slit their throats…with a sword.”

“A what?” bandana scoffed, stabbing into what was left of the next delt’s face. “Get outta here with that BS, man!”

“I’m just tellin’ you what I heard! Grimes was about ta get got, when Bethune comes runnin’ outta the woods, grabs one of the dead trooper’s weapons and shoots the scrub!”

“Wow. Maybe that’s why he’s here all the time,” pink bow chuckled. “Hell, I’d be in love with her too.”

“Get in line,” beard snarked. “You really think those two know each other?”

“Know each other?” the woman laughed, stabbed a delt and shook its eyeball off of her kill stick. “I think they’re fuckin’.”

“No way!” bandana exclaimed. “She just got here!”

<<<Good work, Section 5 and 6 Consignees. Bethune and Clifton, please report to post-shift health check before boarding transport.>>>

“Think about it,” pink bow explained. “Grimes is an officer on the inside now and doesn’t need to be at the Harvest Wall any more. Who’d come back to this shit after their 6 years of consignment is up? Now, all of a sudden, he’s back. Out here almost every day. Why?”

She tipped her head toward the driveway and they watched Grimes remove his helmet and turn completely around to watch “why” aka “Dana Bethune” walk past, avoiding his eyes.

*CLANK…CLANK…CLANK…*

“Oh, yeah…” pink bow grinned. “They’re fuckin’.”

* * * * *

This bit of nonsense was inspired by The Walking Dead spin-off, The Ones Who Live - Episode 3: “Bye”.

Click HERE for the AO3 version.

Thank you for reading!

[tllgrrl]

I wasn’t able to put something together for Valentine’s Day 💝

Instead, this happened…

#Fleur de Louve (Post) Valentine 🦾💝⛴

Does anyone plan to do a Fleur de Louve Valentine's special? 💝

Or, does anyone already have any creations they want to share?

[tllgrrl]

Checking In… by @tllgrrl aka Nefertiri Jones

Relationship: Bucky Barnes/Sarah Wilson | Rated: SFW | -500 Words

Characters: Bucky Barnes-Winter Soldier/White Wolf . Alexi Shostakovich-Red Guardian . Yelena Belova-Black Widow . John Walker-US Agent . Ava Starr-Ghost . Sara Wilson (mentioned)

* * * * * * * * *. *

“Hey, Sarah. Yeah…I’m okay. Nah, I’m fine. I—what? No, you’re fine. Fine as…never mind. Don’t get me started. I’m not exactly alone right now.“

Alexi tilts forward and whispers, “Yasha has a girlfriend!?”

Yelena raises an eyebrow, tilts in, “He and Captain America’s sister Sarah Wilson are Doing It.”

“What?” Walker all but yells. “Really?! Sam’s sister? Wow! Say, did you know my wife is—“

“Yes,” the others say simultaneously, in various tones of utter exasperation. “We all know.”

“Hey!” Bucky throws daggers at them with his eyes. “Pipe down.” He wishes he could throw actual daggers. He has more than enough knives on his person for each one of them, but he maintains a cool demeanor on the phone.

“So,” he continues, lowering his voice and turning his back for more privacy, “about Christmas. I…I might be kinda late getting back. No. Just some idiots I gotta take care of here. I’ll call you later tonight if I can. Hug the boys for me, okay? Ndiyakuthanda.”

“Aww!” Ava practically squeaks. “I don’t speak Xhosa, but I know what that means.”

“I’ve seen pictures of Sarah Wilson,” Alexi smiles and nods approvingly. “Good choice, Yasha. Beautiful woman. Nice frame. Almost as nice as your mother’s, Yelena. A good, sturdy woman, your mother. Ahhhh, the way she fills out her blue jeans is—“

Yelena’s chin drops to her chest. “Oh my god, Dad! Stop!!” If her hands had been untied, she would have buried her face in them…after using them to choke him out.

“What!?! Am I wrong?”

“Hey, Bucky,” Walker says brightly, “We do have something in common. We both have—“

“No.” He pockets his phone and feels the hilt of the knife in his shoulder holster.

“Okay, pal,” Walker grins. “I mean, we—“

“We’re not the same,” Bucky growls and stalks away. “If Val doesn’t call back soon, I swear ta God…”

* * * * *

@fleurdelouvemonth 2024: SarahBucky Bingo - “Free Space”.

The photo is from Entertainment Weekly’s preview of THUNDERBOLTS* and shows Alexi, Yelena, Walker and Ava tied up, and Bucky is on his cellphone while watching them.

Thank you @khululekile for inspiring me to finish this little drabble as we laughed about Walker trying to bond with Bucky over their wives, and Bucky wanting no part of that conversation, especially with the likes of him.

* * * * * * * * * *

Fleurdelouve Month 2024 | SarahBucky Bingo

[tllgrrl]

It’s All Greek To Me by @tllgrrl aka nefertiri jones

Relationships: Bucky Barnes / Sarah Wilson | Rated: SFW | 500 words

* * * * * * * * * *

Sarah was standing on the deck of the Paul and Darlene looking out over the water, the sun just about set.

It had been a long, busy day.

The crew had cleaned up hours ago, going home, leaving everything ready for the next day’s work.

It was quiet save for the night sounds of the Delta and the docks.

Bucky walked up behind her, but not so quietly because before she felt his arms around her waist, and his chest against her back, she heard:

”Sarah…”

The same way he said it the first day they met, right here on the dock, when he’d introduced himself, she replied “I’m Sarah”, and he repeated her name like he was actually saying:

It’s always been you. Always.

He nuzzles her neck and she hums her appreciation, then he takes one of her hands, spins her around to face him, she puts her arms over his shoulders, he pulls her closer, and he lightly kisses her mouth.

His hands gently caress her, roam up and down her back, gently press her into him, and he deepens the kiss.

He hears her softly moan from the back of her throat, feels her body relax as she shifts her weight and her back ever so slightly arches.

He feels her heartbeat.

She feels his heartbeat as his hands make a trail down her back, stop at the small of her back, and his left hand slides onto her ass.

He softly moans from the back of his throat, gently but firmly pressing her hips against his.

His hands revel at the feel of flesh and muscle under denim.

She feels the warm fingers of his right hand slide under the waistband of her jeans.

She feels his chest as he deeply inhales.

His fingers run over her smooth skin, and the fabric of lacy panties.

He sighs, and semi-consciously he murmurs into her ear, “Écheis ómorfous gloutoús…”, and he goes in for another kiss.

“Mmmmm…wait. James…did you just…was that Greek? You just said something about my ass…in Greek?” Sarah said, giggling.

Still lost in the kiss, Bucky murmured, “Just one of the languages running around in my brain. Languages somehow never got completely wiped—“

He pulls his head back, chuckles, and with a big smile, he asks her:

“Xereis na milas ellinika? You…do you speak Greek??”

“No! But you said something about “gloutoús”, and I’ve heard that word before.

Remind me some day to tell you about that time we were chartered by a group of tourist from Greece.”

“I will. Come’ere, you…”

And with that, he recaptures her mouth and they once again become lost in breathlessly exploring the taste and feel of each others’ kisses.

They come up for air, hold each other, foreheads touching, and just before he suggests they turn in for the night, below decks, to the waiting makeshift bed…

“Sarah?”

“James?”

“Tell me about that time there was a group of tourists from Greece...”

* * * * * * * * * *

4th Annual @fleurdelouvemonth 2024 - SarahBucky Bingo

Row 1, Square 2 - “Dusk”. The story is from 2022, but I decided to revisit the story and do a moodboard for the event.

[tllgrrl]

SEASONINGS by @tllgrrl aka Nefirtiri Jones

Bucky Barnes & Princess Shuri | Rated: SFW

* * * * * * * * * *

Summary: Bucky calls in a last minute favor, gets a package from Home, and a phone-call from a Princess.

* * * * * * * * * *

”What was that spicy chicken you brought home last time you and Sam stopped off at Wakanda for your arm?” Sarah asked. “That chicken was somethin’ else.”

”Yeah! It was really good!” Cass agreed, carefully pulling a log out of the Jenga tower.

”Your chicken is really good too, Mama,” AJ offered. “But you said it. That spicy chicken was something else!”

That’s all Bucky needed to hear. That was a new mission, and he gladly accepted it.

But there was one key ingredient missing from his Spices and Seasonings Stash in Sarah’s pantry. He didn’t want to use substitute ingredients, so he called in a favor.

A few days later…

He parked his bike in its usual spot by the garage, and he could see the package on the porch as he approached the back door.

The box had the usual shipping labels on it, but there were familiar red stamps on the bottom corner.

One, the insignia of the Royal House. The other stamp, a circle with 3 crossed spears inside it, meant that someone had personally made sure the package arrived safely.

His kimoyo vibrated, then his phone rang, and before he could speak, a bright voice greeted him.

[”Hello!!”]

“Hey, Shuri. The package is here. Thank you.”

[“No problem. The extra items you requested from the Spice Market is in there. Ahmed and Mairah send their greetings and mentioned something about including a lagniappe for you and Sarah.

I would have brought the box myself so I could enjoy the meal you have planned, but something came up and I had to meet with M’Baku and the Council.”]

”The boys would have gotten a kick out of seeing you again.”

[“How are my play cousins?”]

“AJs Mathletes team won regionals, thanks in part to your coaching. They’re going to the State championships. Cass is on the school’s yearbook committee. He’s the first Sophomore ever picked to help edit.”

[“That’s wonderful! And how is my usisi?”]

“Sarah’s great. She’s amazing. I keep trying to get her to hire a few more people so she can take a break, but she really enjoys her work. The business has turned a corner and she’s thriving. I help whenever I can.

I know sometimes I can be what she calls extra—“

[“Don’t I know it!”]

He could almost hear the exaggerated eye roll.

[“So true!!”]

He recognized the other familiar voice. It made him smile, and brought a little bit of homesickness.

“Zat Ayo? Tell her I said Hi, and that Sarah hasn’t thrown me to the gators. Yet.”

[”If that happens, when Sam retrieves the arm he knows where to bring it!”]

“Really? Is that what we’re doin’?”

[“Yes, it is.”]

“Anyway, Sarah asked me to tell you thanks for the gift. We both—”

[“You had better not be using up her hair products, White Wolf.”]

“No, no! I don’t use it alone. We use it together when we..uh…never mind.”

[“I can hear you blushing over the phone!”] she laughs.

”Come on! Give an old man a break, will ya?” he pleads, gladly accepting the gentle ribbing.

[”Oh, but what fun would that be?!”] she replied. [“I remember that you like the shampoo and conditioner from the Golden City Barbershop.

I’m told that when my Father was a young man, he used to put a tiny bit of their hair oil in his beard. Mother said she loved the way it looked and smelled, and that his majestic beard was what first caught her eye! Don’t worry. In the next package, I’ll send enough of our hair products for your whole family.”]

“I appreciate it, Shuri. I really do.”

[“But Sarah’s is for her.”]

He sometimes massages the hair oil onto Sarah’s scalp, and she puts a few drops in her palms, rubs them together and runs her hands through his hair and beard. It’s soothing, and one of his favourite fragrances, reminding him of the calm he felt in Wakanda, before the peace he finally found in Delacroix, Louisiana.

“Message received,” he said, and Shuri could hear the smile that came from deep inside his heart. She was glad to hear it. “Even when things are a little rough, they’re pretty damn good. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

[“You deserve some happiness, Bucky. You deserve to have some life, like your friend Steve got. And as for good and rough times, there’s that saying about variety being the spice of life. I think you have it there.

May Bast continue to smile on you and your family.”]

“Thanks again. Bast keep you safe, your highness.”

[“Hey! What did I say about all that your highness stuff!”]

“Ndizakubona, Shuri.

[“See you soon!”]

He pocketed his phone, picked up the box and headed inside, to get started on the peri-peri chicken he was now going to be able to make for dinner, now that he had all the proper seasonings.

*****

@fleurdelouvemonth 2024 SarahBucky Bingo — Row 3, Square 2: Seasonings

(A moodboard will follow, but I wanted to get this in before midnight tonight. )

[tllgrrl]

Chapter 12 is Live!

Summary: Sébastien spills the beans on his history and his past. Sam gives him an ultimatum.

New SarahBucky Songbook: PostModern Jukebox, WWII

New fic for the new year. I haven't written SarahBucky in a minute. I'm glad to be back to my old fave.

SarahBucky Postmodern Jukebox: WWII

Summary: The year is 1942, alternatively speaking. In this World a War is spinning across the globe. Nurse Sarah Wilson is trying to do her job in a small farming community in the NorthWestern part of France. It all goes to hell when a handsome pilot crash lands into a ditch. He brings a spark of mystery, lighting up Nurse Wilson’s quiet life, upending everything. Who is he? Can be be trusted?

Featuring alternative timeline versions of Sarah Wilson and James Bucky Barnes, in a bucolic French setting. Plenty of locals. Pining. Angst. Incredibly hot sex. And alcoholic cider drank from little bowls.

12 Chapters (already written, so I won't forget the ending, this time).

Word count (Ch 1): 1.5K words

Tags: Sarahbucky, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, AU-WWII

BEST PART? I commissioned @tllgrrl to do me a moodboard/art collage and it is just spectacular. LOOK AT IT!

Read up friends over on Ao3.

[tllgrrl]

Relationship: Bucky Barnes/Sarah Wilson | Rated: M (At the end.)

* * * * * * * * * *

“We’ll keep the lights on for Santa Claus and for you,” the boys told him the night before when he called to let them and Sarah know he’d be on his way home soon, arriving in time for Christmas.

”I’ll just say be prepared,” she chuckled. “They really got into the spirit this year.”

Even though the house was set back a little ways, as the SUV approached the driveway, the glow was visible from the main road.

Not only was the house brilliant, lights were also wrapped around a few of the trees in the front-yard.

“Wow!”

“Exactly what I was thinkin’,” Bucky grinned. “Thanks for the ride home, pal.”

“My pleasure Sergeant Barnes,” the white-haired older man smiled, eyes twinkling. “I’m on my way home, too. Been a long day. Y’all have a merry Christmas.”

“You and yours too,” he nodded, giving the driver a generous tip and a wave as the car pulled away.

He placed his bags on the porch, did a quick perimeter check of the property, then stood in the yard and took in the decorations before mounting the steps.

He smiled, and shook his head in wonderment at the display of lights decorating the house.

“Thanks, guys. It’s beautiful.”

He unlocked the door, touched the door jamb, whispered “Bast wam, sikelela le ndawo,” and entered the house.

The first thing he smelled was the tree, which was softly aglow from tiny lights. These were much more subdued than the ones on the exterior of the house.

The living room was festive, but also calm and cozy.

Next came the aroma of the freshly-baked cookies that were arranged on a plate in the middle of the coffee table. On another plate was a bunch of carrots.

And there was a note, carefully printed and signed by the boys:

Dear Santa

The cookies are for you and Uncle Bucky. Mama helped us make them. The carrots are for the reindeer. We picked them out of our garden.

Merry Christmas and Thank You!

Cass and AJ

He snagged a cookie, opened his duffle, pulled out several wrapped parcels, placed them under the tree, and took the duffle into the mudroom, leaving it on top of the washer to get to later.

Snagging another cookie, he picked up his backpack and headed for the downstairs bathroom where he showered, brushed his teeth and slipped into the pj bottoms and t-shirt that were waiting on the door hook.

Avoiding the squeaky step on the way upstairs, he looked in on the kids, then stepping quietly into Sarah’s room, he set his backpack in the corner, carefully pulled back the covers and crawled into bed, relaxing for the first time in hours. In days.

“Mmmmmm…” Sarah hummed as he pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arm around her, kissing the back of her neck, burying his face in her curls, and inhaling the scent of her hair.

Bucky knows she fell asleep while trying to wait up for him because she usually puts her hair up before going to sleep.

She snuggled herself into him, and reaching back, ran her fingers through his hair as he cupped her breast before running his hand down under the waistband of her sleep shorts.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” he softly growled. “I’m home.”

Quietly giggling, she parted her thighs and purred, “Ahhhhh…’zat you, Santa Claus?”

* * * * * * * * * *

Also posted HERE on The AO3.

* * * * * * * * * *

Happy ChristmaHanukKwanza! Happy All The Holidays, including Festivus!

[tllgrrl]

I Got GIFTED!!!

I’m sorry for taking a week to reblog and share this.

@btwxsixesandsevens , Thank You So So Much for this beautiful Christmas jewel of a story.

If this story closes out their story for now, it’s a beautiful beginning to the next phase of their lives together. And the song you picked is one of my favorite American Standards that was covered by Ella Fitzgerald.

I wish I could write something in return to show my appreciation, but it wouldn’t even measure up. The only thing I could think of to do was make this little Moodboard to express my thanks and appreciation.

[tllgrrl]

How the Hell did we get from here…

and here…

to here?!

What had happened was…

“ …suddenly there came a tapping…”

* * * * *

“Checking in…”

* * * * *

“Sitters”

* * * * * * * * * *

We’ll find out in a few months, but I have my little thoughts. so here is my shameless reblog compiling these little thoughts in the form of ficlets/drabbles.

(Photos not owned by me. They’re all over the place and are used just for fun.)

If you have a comment or emoji or any questions you may have, feel free.

Thanks for reading, or rereading!

[tllgrrl]

Essential Skills in a Post-Apocalypse World by @tllgrrl aka Nefertiri Jones

Summary: A new CRM uniform would be waiting for Rick at the first refueling jump point on the way back to Cascadia Base, but before driving out to the chopper…

* * *

Rick went back to the 3 Pines Cabin to gather anything left behind when they hastily dressed and lit out after being ambushed in bed that morning.

Michonne returned to the Gift Shop, found the stockroom and snagged the remaining Yellowstone souvenir buckskin bags containing sewing kits, because one of the skills needed for a post-apocalypse world was the ability to mend and alter clothing.

Having two active, growing kids meant re-attaching buttons, hemming, and repairing seams, as needed.

She tucked the kits into her backpack, between the kids’ presents she and Rick picked when they arrived at the Park, and Jadis’ CRM uniform.

[tllgrrl]

7th Inning Stretch by @tllgrrl aka Nefertiri Jones

Sarah Wilson/James “Bucky” Barnes | 5K Words | Ch 1: SFW Fade to Black. Ch 2: NSFW Spicy.

Summary: Sarah and Bucky enjoy their day off, beating the heat at home on the sofa, watching the ballgame.

Summer + Baseball + Waltzing + Ice(?) = Shenanigans!

* * * * * * * * *

Chapter 1 - Take Me Out

Where: Southern Louisiana.

When: Summertime. Baseball Season.

Late afternoon at the Wilson-Barnes home. It’s not just hot and humid. It’s steamy, and rain is in the forecast. It hasn’t started yet, but it’s on its way.

Sam’s visiting for a few days, and to keep two bored tween boys from going stir crazy he offered to take his nephews to the movies, pizza, and then for a mini-shopping spree at Crescent City Comics in NOLA, so Sarah and Bucky, both in lightweight cotton shorts and tank tops, are lazing on the sofa, enjoying a quiet day off…and air conditioning.

Like in many older buildings and houses in Southern Louisiana, opening windows and/or doors and letting the air flow through was “air conditioning” in the generations-old Wilson house.

To make it more effective, some window units were installed in the living room and the bedrooms, including Bucky’s bedroom/office in the attic.

Having Stark Industries and WakandaTech available did have its perks. Low profile, high-efficiency and environmentally friendly A/C was one of them.

But sometimes, open windows and good screens were fine. Especially after sundown.

Bucky got the small ice chest out of the garage, filled it with ice, a couple of bottles of beer and 2 bottles of water. Sarah laid out some snacks, including a few of Bucky’s favorite granola bars, on the coffee table.

He’s watching the L.A. Dodgers (the “Brooklyn” Dodgers, as he sometimes calls them) play the New York Mets while he rubs her feet with his warm right hand.

She’s enjoying the hell out of the pampering, while reading the novelization of the Bridgerton spinoff, Queen Charlotte.

He knows about the popular TV series and enjoys the way she tries to keep a cool demeanor at what she and her friends call “the juicy parts” of the book.

He can hear her when she says under her breath, “Well, alright now…” or “Mmm-hmm…”

And he took particular note when she covered her mouth, whispered “Giiiiirl?! Yesss…” and her toes curled in his hand.

He planned to try and get her to read whatever that part was aloud to him later.

“It’s almost time,” he informs her, releasing her foot and rubbing his left hand, still cool from holding a cold beer, on her legs.

“Mmmm…that’s nice.” she sighs as she lightly kneads his thigh with her heels. “Time for what?”

“7th Inning Stretch…”

“…You know the song, right? Take me me out—“

“To the ball game? Everybody knows that song.”

“Yeah, the chorus part of it. Did you know there are verses?”

She laid the book down on the coffee table next to the bowl of roasted peanuts, snagged a little cube of ice and rubbed it on her wrists, her neck and her collarbone.

His eyes caught a drop of water from the ice making its way from the hollow at the base of her throat, down her chest, rolling into her cleavage.

For a second he considered going in after it. With his mouth and tongue. Instead, he gave her another piece of ice and popped one into his own mouth, crunched it, then taking her hand slowly kissed up her arm, from the pulse point of her wrist, watching her eyes slightly widen as she grins.

"Is that right..." she murmured, getting a little lost because it felt like every time his cold mouth landed on her warm skin, all of her attention, her focus, was drawn to that spot on her body.

And he saw her thighs press together just a little when he reached the inside of her elbow, kissed it and then rubbed his bearded cheek on it, making her hiss and pull away but just a little because the cold followed by the warmth made her want more.

“Verses? That song has verses? Lay it on me, Sinatra.”

“Okay, it goes something like,

Katie Casey was baseball mad,

had the fever and had it bad.

Just to root for the hometown crew,

Every sou—that’s a penny—Katie blew…”

“Really! That’s how it starts?”

“Yeah. Learned it from my Pa. There was another version later about a girl named Nellie Kelly.”

“Anyway," she ruffled his hair, and lightly raking her nails on his scalp, she watched his eyelids start to flutter. "I’ve never heard the intro before. My baseball knowledge isn’t very deep. Daddy’d sometimes watch depending on who was playing, and you know about Sam and his football. I’m into whatever the boys are into, but I don’t know a lot about baseball.”

“My Ma loved baseball. Prob’ly more’n Pa. She’d listen to games on the radio doin' housework, or makin’ dinner, and during the 7th Inning Stretch she’d grab me and Becca, turn the radio up, and we’d all three of us dance around in the living room. God, in the summertime it’d be so hot, but we didn’t care.

Sometimes if I had a little bit o’ money left from a job, when the ice wagon came around I’d run downstairs and get us snow cones.

Man, when that ice hit your mouth…it was like heaven. I’ll never forget…”

Sarah saw that soft smile and look of almost wonderment he sometimes gets when an old formerly-lost memory resurfaces.

‘Well, anyway,” he offered, rising from the couch, taking her hand and leading her to the middle of the room, “I’ll be more than happy to be your private baseball tutor.”

“Private tutor, huh?”

“Mmm-hmmm. May I?”

She nodded, he placed her right hand on his shoulder, took her left hand, and pulled her nearer.

“When you’re watching the boys’ team play, you want to be the parent who knows exactly what they’re yelling at the ump for.”

“Well, I thank you in advance, Professor Barnes.

So when do my lessons start?”

“Now. Do you waltz?”

“Waltz? A little. Not much occasion to, but I can waltz with a good partner.”

“You’re in good hands. Trust me. Okay…”

He raised the volume on the TV, tossed the remote onto the couch, and they began to dance as the announcer sings:

🎶Take me out to the ballgame,

Take me out to the crowd…🎶

“Say! Not bad, young whippersnapper!”

“Thank you!”

🎶Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack…🎶

“Who taught you?”

“Daddy. And mama taught Sam.”

“Sam? Your brother Sam? Sam Wilson can waltz?”

🎶Root, root, root for the home team,

If they don’t win it’s a shame…🎶

“Oh, yeah! Social Dancing was definitely part of our Home Training. But not Soul Train dancing. You learned popular dances from friends, and from the TV.

I mean Fox Trot, Swing, and Waltz. Like your Mama taught you, our Mama and Daddy taught us…just like you’re gonna teach Cass and AJ.”

“You want me to teach them.“

“Mmm-hmm. They're already learning baseball fundamentals from you. You can show them basic partner dancing steps, and they can practice leading with me.”

“I thought you wanted them to like me!”

“It’ll be fun! I promise.”

“Mind if I hold you to that?”

The song continues and the crowd on the TV sang as Sarah and Bucky find themselves slow dancing.

Whenever they dance past the AC unit, they linger, feeling the cool air as it hits the light veil of sweat that has settled on their skin.

It’s Southern Louisiana. In the Summer, it’s always there.

She grew up with it.

He’s gotten used to it and actually loves it because he’d had enough freezing in his life to never want to be cold again unless necessary.

She places her hand on the back of his neck and feels him inhale, rub his cheek on her temple, then he lightly kisses her there.

The back of his left hand slides down her shoulder, then his fingers slowly run from just behind her ear, down the side of her throat.

The sensors in that hand know her skin intimately now.

He remembers the first time she took his hand, the first time he touched her arm, her cheek, her bottom lip. Her...

He lightly kisses the side of her neck, her ear, while softly humming the song, pulling giggles from her.

Her hands roam up and down his back, gently kneading the muscles there, pulling another deep inhale and sigh from him.

🎶Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack…🎶

His mouth travels to her cheek, then to her mouth.

🎶I don’t care if I ever come back.🎶

They get lost in the kiss, and when they finally do come back…

“Well, now. Tell me, Professor Barnes, do they still call a kiss like that getting to First Base?”

“I believe they do, Ms. Wilson.”

“I wonder if you can make it to Home Plate.”

“Not if I can, sweetness, but how many times.”

“Oh, really now,” she huffs, pulling away before he can go in for another scorching kiss, and heading toward the stairs.

He watches her ascend and when she looks back at him over her shoulder, she sees that “got an idea” look he gets when he gets the kind of “ideas” that get her pulled into a hideaway someplace at least semi-private for some good old-fashioned grownup shenanigans.

“The truck windows are still down,” he grins. “I’ll be right up.“

As if on cue, the wind kicks up a bit, and then there’s the sound of rain beginning to fall.

{*ping*}

They both glance over at his phone on the end table, then at each other, and she starts to prepare herself for the words that’ll mean he has to get dressed, grab that ever-ready Backpack and board a QuinJet that’s miraculously showed up in the front yard.

(Dammit. Here it comes: “HQ called—blah blah blah. The boys and I are headed back home. Wheels up in 2 hours—blah blah blah. Sorry Buck.”)

Bucky picks the phone up, reads the message, and breathes a sigh of relief.

“It’s from Sam. He says, raining cats and dogs up here...storm’s headed your way...boys are knocked out and so am I...crashing at safe house...see you guys in the morning. Don’t get distracted and forget to roll up windows on that old truck, White Panther? Distracted?!” Bucky says to his phone. “I don’t get distracted, Samuel!”

For a few seconds, Sarah watches with amusement as he fusses at the phone, then she turns and continues up the stairs.

“Don’t take too long rolling up those windows, Lover,” she teases. “It’s the top of the 7th.

Batter up.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Chapter 2: Rounding The Bases on AO3 (Rated E)

Originally published for the 2023 SarahBucky Summer event.

Thanks for reading! (Or re-reading!)

[tllgrrl]

SarahBucky Fleur De Louve Month 2023 - Day 7 - Prompt: “I think it looks nice.”

Sarah Wilson / Bucky Barnes

(Story inspired by Vogue Magazine’s photograph of Serena Williams in a custom Thom Browne corset gown.)

* * * * * * * * * *

When he was finished, she gingerly tip-toed to the mirror and turned around.

‘Oh…mygawd,” she whispered. “Wow…”

She turned again, stopped, and looked over her shoulder at her reflection. Her upper back was framed, and the red, white, and navy blue ribbons—that laced up the corset dress from the curve of her ass up to her waist, and from just below her shoulder blades down to the waist—stood in contrast to the black, hand-sequined fabric.

Bucky was the one who cinched her in and tied the two sections together with one bow.

The hair and makeup stylist Misty recommended was a dream. He parted her thick curly hair, braided it into 4 sections that met at the nape of her neck, then he added an extension, into which he braided one of the extra laces that came with the dress.

“You don’t think it’s too much, do you? I mean, this is New York, and the event’s really fancy, but…this. And unlacing it all later tonight is gonna be—“

*shhick…click*

She glanced over and saw him standing behind her, by the wall, as still as a statue, watching her look at herself in the full-length mirror.

His lips were slightly parted and she saw the tip of his tongue wet his bottom lip before his teeth rolled over it.

Then she saw the quick squint.

*sshhick…click*

His left hand slowly flexed, and in his right hand was his EDC switchblade that he was opening and closing methodically.

He was looking at her as though he was mapping out access points for Special Ops maneuvers.

“I think it looks great, nandi. And getting you out of it’s not gonna be a problem at all.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Also posted HERE on AO3.

* * * * * * * * * *

Thanks for reading!

[tllgrrl]

Heart Beat: a SarahBucky Vampire AU - Chapter 3 - The Beautiful One is Here by @tllgrrl aka Nefertiri Jones

Relationship: Cardiologist!Vampire!Sarah Wilson/Vampire!James “Bucky” Barnes

Rated: M | TWs: Mention of blood; Assault.

* * * * * * * * * *

Summary: Losing a patient anywhere wasn’t easy.

Each doctor, nurse, EMT, had their own way of dealing with it.

Sarah would just walk with nowhere specific as to where.

This time, she had a where…

* * * * * * * * * *

About an hour later, Sarah made her way down to the morgue.

She offered to deliver the paperwork herself before heading back up to the lounge for a much-needed cup of hot coffee…minus an apple fritter.

She had to do…something. Walk. Run. Just go. Somewhere. She chalked it up to losing a patient in the Trauma Unit.

Losing a patient anywhere wasn’t easy. But…

(I knew him. No you didn’t. Don’t be silly.)

Along with the folder of forms and reports she carried the “belongings” bag containing the deceased’s clothing and shoes.

The EMTs had carefully removed his leather jacket and stabilized him before getting him into the ambulance, but because of the height of the fall, and that he was unconscious, unresponsive, and there was a fair amount of blood, they decided to go ahead and cut his shirts and everything else off of him so they could determine the extent of his injuries, unhindered by the clothes, and begin whatever treatment they needed to perform in transit to the awaiting hospital trauma unit.

In the elevator, on the way down to the bottom floor, Sarah’s mind replayed bits of conversation between the two of them.

“Sergeant, were you really fighting? Fighting on the roof?”

“I’m always fighting.”

And she wondered if he would’ve been upset that his jeans and shirts were ruined, but happy his leather jacket was spared.

She also had a smaller plastic bag containing a wallet, set of keys, what looked like a vintage Zippo lighter, a pair of old Army dog tags on a relatively newer chain, and a switchblade that the EMT found in a calf holster he was wearing when they cut his jeans off.

It wasn’t the first time she’d heard of or seen armed patients in the ER.

She’d also seen her fair share of dog tags, but not ones as old as these.

Maybe they were some sort of sentimental thing. Could’ve been his father’s or grandfather’s.

“Fighting who? Why?”

“Not now. There’s no time. Listen…”

It didn’t matter now. None of it mattered.

What did matter was, a) something had happened in the ER that it seemed only she heard or saw; and b) she wanted to see him one more time before the Coroners took him—took his body—away.

“Find me, Sarah. I’ll be waiting for you.”

No. She didn’t want to see him.

She needed to see him.

When she tapped her ID number into the keypad, the doors swung open, she entered the morgue, and the doors quietly shut behind her with a soft click.

The only (living) person she saw seemed to be one of the attendants, who was looking out the windows with his back to her.

It sounded like he was quietly talking to someone, but there was no one else there.

“The wrong one…the right one…is…here…”

The front desk area was lit with a couple of overhead fluorescents. The rest of the room was dark, except for the soft ambient light pouring through the windows that made up most of the back wall.

“Hello? Excuse me. I’m Dr. Wilson.

The patient, the decedent, they brought down from the ER about an hour ago, Sergeant James Barnes? I have his personal effects. And I need your signature on this paperwork for the…”

The man didn’t move, and now the only sound in the room was the rain on the windows.

It had started just a few minutes ago, and it was already pouring buckets.

“Wow. It’s really coming down,” she offered, putting the bag of clothing on the desk. Walking over to the windows she marveled at the stunning view as a flash of lightning lit up the City below them.

St. Francis Hospital was situated on a hill, so even some rooms on the bottommost floors afforded a spectacular view of San Francisco. This room was one of them.

The thunder rolled a few seconds later.

“Storm must be almost right on top of us. I feel for anybody out in the middle of all that,” she mused. “I love the rain, but—“

Then a bolt of lightning flashed so bright, and the crack of thunder following it so loud, it made her jump.

It flashed again and the overheads at the front desk flickered, then went out.

The streetlights, traffic signals, and all the buildings down in the streets below were dark now, too.

A whole swath of the city—and the morgue—had gone black.

“That’s not good,” she whispered to herself, after the accompanying thunder faded.

(…nine-Mississippi, eight-Mississippi, seven-Mississippi…)

Six seconds later, the hospital’s emergency generators kicked in.

The room was still dark, but the essential parts of the morgue—the refrigerators, autoclaves, and a couple of emergency lights—were running.

The lightning flashed again, and again thunder rolled right behind it.

“Mehr-see Bon-dyoo, as my grammaw would say. Thank God for modern—“

“You shouldn’t be here,” the man sighed.

Continued on AO3.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Chapter 4 - Safe aHouse, Pt. 1 - Well, How Did I Get Here?

Chapter 3 - The Beautiful One is Here

Chapter 2 - The Beautiful One is Coming, Pt. 2

Chapter 1 - The Beautiful One is Coming, Pt. 1

[tllgrrl]

Heart Beat: a SarahBucky Vampire AU

Chapter 1, Part 1 “The Beautiful One is coming.”

Relationship: Cardiologist!Vampire Sarah Wilson / Vampire!James “Bucky” Barnes

* * * * * * * * * *

San Francisco, California - 1989

It wasn’t supposed to be her. She wasn’t even originally scheduled to be there that night. She’d simply agreed to work someone else’s shift.

That’s where it happened. At work.

Claudette Singh had called St. Francis of Assisi Hospital.

Dr. Arun Singh’s appendix had burst during the 4th inning at their kid’s Little League game, so he wasn’t going to make it to work.

Dr. Nina Chow was his backup, but she was busy giving birth to twins and thus a little bit occupied.

Dr. Max Richards, was laid up with a broken arm and recovering from a mild concussion due a rollerblading accident.

(“Don’t ask,” he replied when asked, but word got out anyway about the drinks, the bet, and how lucky he was. He’d wiped out just yards before the intersection, causing him to miss a collision with a cable car.)

Dr. Sarah Wilson, the on-staff cardiology fellow, was next in the rotation.

Having just hung up on her now Ex, she answered the phone on the first ring thinking she was about to give him another piece of her mind, but instead ended up agreeing to work the upcoming weekend’s night shift because, other than work, her calendar was now completely free.

Again.

***

Despite it being an unusually quiet Friday night, a man who had apparently fallen/jumped/was thrown from the roof of a building over on Upper Market Street was being wheeled into the ER at about the same time Sarah was upstairs taking a break in the Doctor’s lounge, and beginning to smell the apple fritter heating up in the fancy new Radarange microwave that replaced the ancient toaster that had finally given up the ghost two weeks earlier.

{*Ding!*}

“Awwwyeah, come here you hot, sweet thannng,” she crooned to herself, opening the oven and removing the treat.

Just as she sat down and picked up her fork—

<<Doctor Wilson. Doctor Sarah Wilson, please call the ER immediately. Doctor Wilson, please call 999…>>

“No! Nononooo,” she wailed. “Can’t a sistah get a proper break?”

“Guess not,” Nurse Sanchez laughed as he glided into the break room gleefully rubbing his hands together. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure that fritter gets a good home.”

<<Doctor Sarah Wilson, please report to Emergency. Doctor Wilson, to Emergency, please.>>

“Ha-ha. Very funny, Octavio. You and Cynthia got my maple bar yesterday with this trickery. Get your own fritter, you sneaky—“

“My God, what is that delicious smell?!” Head Nurse Robbins practically panted, peeking into the lounge, eyes scanning the room for the source of the aroma.

“Oh, Doctor Wilson! ER just called. Dr. Haddid needs you downstairs, ASAP.”

Nurse Sanchez shrugged. “Sorry, Doc.”

Pouting, Sarah sighed, gave him the plate, and hurried to the elevator.

To be continued…

* * * * * * * * * *

Finally. And with a slightly updated moodboard for the actual fic.

Thanks @fleurdelouve for the nudge. I’ve been hesitating with this for too long. (And Thanks Alan Silvestri and Ludwig Göransson for being my soundtrack this morning, assisting me in getting off my ass and start posting this thing.)

[tllgrrl]

SarahBucky Fleur De Louve Month 2023 - Day 6 Prompt: “There’s no place like home.” | SFW

Sarah Wilson/Bucky Barnes, and Special Guest Cameos: Cass & AJ Wilson and Alpine the Cat

* * * * * * * * * *

He sees the front porch, and another piece of what he called “the Thunder-whatever thing” falls off of him.

Stepping out of the van, he grabbed his backpack and duffle, and nodded to the driver.

“Thanks, pal.”

“My pleasure, Sarge!”

The vehicle pulled away, and before Bucky mounted the steps, he looked around the yard, doing a casual perimeter check.

Some old habits can’t die.

Especially not now, when everything he holds dear is on the other side of that door.

He closed his eyes and heard the boys and Sarah inside:

“Luke! You can nevah defeat me!”

“I am stronger with the Force, Vader!”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Uh-huh!”

“Cass! AJ! Are you done with your homework?”

And he smelled food cooking.

Meatloaf, greens, macaroni and cheese.

His mouth watered coming off of 3 ½ weeks of meals from fast food stores and greasy diners, none of it properly seasoned as far as he was concerned.

A small white cat stepped onto the porch, sat, and waited.

“Hi there,” he said softly, scratching behind her ear with his right hand. She jumped up into his arms, and climbed up to his left shoulder.

“I missed you too,” he cooed. “You been good, Alpine?”

‘Mrow,” she answered, rubbed her face on his ear, purring.

Before putting the key into the lock, he placed his hand on the door jamb.

“Sikelela le ndawo,” he whispered.

Opening the door, he sees a lightsaber duel in full swing in the living room, accompanied, of course, by John Williams’ iconic music coming from the TV.

“Hey fellas!”

“Uncle Bucky!” the boys chime together, dropping their plastic weapons, running to hug him and tussle over his duffle and backpack.

Alpine jumps down heading straight for the kitchen as he knelt so they could all get their arms around each other.

“Guys? Did you hear me?” Sarah calls, walking into the dining room as he stands and closes the door. “Time to get ready for—“

Her face lights up, but her “Mama’s Not Playing” voice is what the boys hear:

“Are you guys lightsabering in this house again? You know better. Go put Bucky’s bags in the mudroom, pick up your stuff out of here, wash your hands and set the table. You can play space battle outside after dinner.”

“Okay, mama!” They snickered hauling the bags into the kitchen because they knew what was going to happen next: The Kissin’ Stuff, which they didn’t mind too much because it made their mama all smiley. Mama and Uncle Bucky.

“Hey Sarah.”

“James. Come’ere, you.”

She opens her arms and he walks into her embrace.

He removed his dog tags and placed them around her neck before he kissed her, and as he did, Alpine continued to purr as she wound her way around their legs and the boys carried on with their Luke vs Vader debate while putting plates and silverware on the dining room table.

This was where he wanted to be, and where Sarah wanted him: in kid’s hijinx, in cat chaos, and in her arms.

He meant it from the bottom of his heart when he looked into her eyes and said:

“There’s no place like home.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Posted HERE on the AO3 .

Thanks for reading!

[tllgrrl]

Snowed in…elsewhere. by @tllgrrl aka Nefertiri Jones

Relationships: Sarah Wilson/Bucky Barnes | Rated: SFW

Summary: It’s going to be 70 degrees at home in Delacroix, Louisiana, but the two of them are snowed in…elsewhere.

”…and the snow is still falling, blanketing the Eastern Seaboard. All flights in and out of La Guardia have been cancelled for the past 18 hours and now, all flights out of DC are cancelled as well, leaving passengers stranded at…”

Sarah opens her eyes and sees the Weather Channel lady in front of a map with snowflake graphics covering a large swath of the East Coast, from above New York State, down past Washington DC.

The scrolling text lists airlines that canceled what flights coming into or leaving which airports.

There’s La Guardia…and there’s the flight they were supposed to be on yesterday afternoon. Today’s flights are also canceled.

She feels Bucky’s arm tighten around her and a scratchy face nuzzling her shoulder.

She looks over, sees their backpacks and carry-ons still waiting by the door…and his warm hand opens on her breast as he kisses the nape of her neck.

“Molo, baby,” sleep still in his voice, making it all deeply rumbly in his chest. She feels it on her back.

Yesterday morning after breakfast, they learned that their late afternoon flight out had been canceled. All flights out were canceled.

She had a good cry, phoned the kids, and he brought his mattress into the living room area of the loft.

They made a blanket fort, where they spent the day reading, listening to music, dancing and napping.

After dinner, they watched movies, and he snuggled her closer. “This isn’t so bad, nandi. Rather be here with you than stuck, snowed-in at the airport. We’ll get home to Delacroix before Christmas Eve.”

“Mmmm, true, baby.”

And he kissed her. And kissed her.

And she kissed him right back.

They fell asleep…afterward…with Netflix’s Fireplace video on the TV, as snow fell on Brooklyn.

divider by @firefly-graphics

Glossary - nandi : sweetness, delightful (isiXhosa)

Molo: good morning (isiXhosa)

* * * * *

First posted in 2021. Also on The AO3.

Thanks for reading. (And re-reading.)