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Bucky gets a cat. Not on purpose.
Then again, nothing that’s ever happened to him since the day he’d been drafted to war over a century ago has ever been a result of his own volitation.
Though, unlike everything else in his life, getting a cat is a welcome distraction. Steve’s been sulking near-constantly since their return to the United States, and neither Romanova or Barton do anything more than exuberate his mood. Thankfully, with the Witch transferred under the watch of a Stephen Strange, nothing more comes of it.
Nonetheless, Bucky stays clear as often as he can and whenever he can, particularly when Steve gets into one of his nostalgically angsty moods.
Sam’s been of the opinion that they’d gotten the best deal they could’ve after the Civil War fiasco and has taken their probationary house-arrest with all the grace no one else has.
Scott’s just happy to be here.
But back to the topic: the cat.
Bucky discovered the thing in one of his haunts – a shadowed corner of Tony’s workshop – where it claimed sovereignty over some scrapped parts that Tony himself hadn’t known what to do with.
Tony’s made it a point not to be around too often since the Rogues moved back in, and while it’s a shame that Bucky had to avail himself to the muffled noises of Tony’s tinkering from deeper in the workshop, it’s not like Bucky doesn’t get it.
Which is to say that Steve doesn’t. That’s at least eighty percent of the reason why he’s been in such a mood since Tony had cold-shouldered him and relegated all of them to the metaphorical dog-house in a mostly-undeveloped part of the Compound as far away from Tony and his family as possible.
Barton claimed it cursed when, not for the first time, the ice-machine was suddenly using him for target practice.
Two years isn’t nearly enough to get over a betrayal from the monument of righteousness that is Captain America nor the total abandonment of more than half of his team.
Bucky comforts himself that Tony, no doubt, knows of Bucky’s occasional visits and hasn’t done anything to deter him.
Until now.
The cat scratches anything that gets too close, hisses at shadows and is generally a surly little bastard.
She (as Bucky will find out later when he manages to wrangle her in and take her to the vet) also has a white forepaw as opposed to the other black ones, so, whether Tony meant the little thing to scare him away or not, it only succeeds in giving Bucky a friend instead.
That she happens to dislike everyone on principle only adds to the positives of formally adopting her.
Never mind that she’s clawed his arms up multiple times since. He figures if he can’t get cut up petting his cat then what is even the point of the Super Serum?
Besides, as the Winter Soldier, he practically qualifies as an apex predator. She’s just making sure he knows what she’s capable of to keep him on his toes. That she wasn’t much pleased with Sam when he’d tried to pet her – to Bucky’s own anticipation of her reaction – only makes him grin which in turn makes Scott slightly uncomfortable because apparently Bucky has a natural serial killer aura and smiling only makes it worse.
Bucky’s pretty sure he loves the little darling.
Tony, it turns out, hadn’t gotten the cat to keep Bucky away (which had clearly failed spectacularly given the way Bucky’s taken to carrying her whenever she refuses to take her naps anywhere that isn’t on him).
In fact, Tony doesn’t find out about the cat until a month later:
With the kids and the Colonel out of state, and Bruce hiding out in the labs with Doctor Cho over a toy they’ve refused to let Tony play with unsupervised, the man had made every excuse to be away. It wasn’t like Bucky was counting down the days until he showed his face again.
It isn’t like Bucky wanted to introduce his cat to Tony or anything.
While they’re far from antagonistic towards one another, and practically chummy compared to Tony and the Rogues, they aren’t exactly friends.
Bucky would like them to be from the interactions he’s been a witness to since his defrost from Princess Shuri’s freezer, but he’d never presume anything. Tony has every reason in the world to hate him. Even if Tony’s also taken to leaving food in the lab that’s way more than he eats and definitely enough for two people, and has moved his couch nearer to Bucky’s preferred hiding spot. But it probably doesn’t mean anything.
Right?
Anyway, when he hears that Tony’s back from the grapevine aka Friday, Bucky’s surprising ally in his new home, Bucky’s suddenly distracted by the fact that his damn cat is missing.
He wasn’t going to introduce them. He wasn’t.
He just figured if there was a good reason to talk to Tony, the cat would be a good opening, Bucky’s prosthetic malfunctioning aside – which would be impossible since it was a joint collaboration with both Princess Shuri and Tony himself. Short of having it ripped off, Bucky has doubts he’d need maintenance until the yearly physical which is too damn far to wait on.
In any case, when Bucky finds his cat, he also finds Tony.
The cat is curled up lovingly over the ethereal blue glow of the arc reactor. Her tail wrapped around Tony’s hand.
According to the recording Friday quietly replays of Tony’s return – and goddamn, he should get Friday some magnets or something as a thank-you because that shot of Tony stripping off his suit jacket and the silky flick of his tie coming off and the way he slides his maroon button-up off his shoulders, and the delicious snap of his belt is – Focus.
Tony worked on something for a little at one of his workbenches in nothing but a pair of his loose trouser pants and his vest before collapsing on the couch where Bucky’s cat had decided to join him.
Tony startled for a moment, exclaiming, “Jesus, where the hell did you come from?” Getting the cat to blink wide, innocent blue eyes at him before huffing in annoyance and settling on his chest as she often does to Bucky himself.
Squinting at her, Tony decided a heartbeat later that this wasn’t the worst thing that's happened to him. He huffs, and tells her, “Fine, whatever, we’ll talk about your rent later.”
Bucky’s cat meowed in apparent agreement, and then they’d both fallen asleep.
Bucky doesn’t know which part of the little video is his favorite, the soft-porn striptease or the Hallmark moment, but he’s definitely getting a copy off Fri.
With a dopey look on his face, he can’t even help the fond irritation that weaves its way in his words as he greets the little traitor, “Of course, the one person you’d like, it’d be him.”
His cat turns her head to acknowledge him, squinting in a similar, drowsy fashion that Tony had in the clip before huffing again and nuzzling into the glow of Tony’s chest.
Clearly, she’s smarter than your average cat.
Which Tony agrees with later, though admits he’s never had a pet before.
Labs and workshops do not bode well for animals considering the safety concerns associated, though immediately the engineer goes off in a tangent about how Bucky’s cat must be some of kind of genius then – And wouldn’t you know it? The cat was a great opening after all.
Bucky finds himself in the lab every day after on the cat’s insistence.
She’s clearly meowing for someone’s attention and it isn’t Bucky’s. He can’t blame her, She’s slept on Tony’s chest, she’s been privy to Tony’s ramblings.
Hell, when Bucky gets sent on missions a month later, Tony picks her up from Bucky’s room on the ‘cursed’ side of the Compound and tells her that, “Daddy will be home soon” before peppering her with kisses, and Bucky isn’t both stupidly jealous or living vicariously through her or anything.
One day, after going through every range of a pet (hah) name on her, Tony seems to realize that the cat doesn’t actuallyhave a name. “What do you call her?”
He coughs, avoids Tony’s eyes and pays extra attention to getting in his allocated petting time while she’s still in the mood for it. “Cat.”
Tony looks openly offended on her behalf, “And she answers to that?”
Bucky gets a mouthful of her tail as she saunters away which is actually so typical, seriously.His deadpan expression belies his no loud and clear, and Tony snickers as the cat takes the very short trek to where Tony is sitting diagonal to Bucky and settles on Tony’s arm and looks at him expectantly with a meow.
“Alright your highness,” Tony chuckles down at her, before he brightens, “Hey, how about that, are you an Antoinette, sweetheart?”
She hisses.
Bucky snorts. “Can’t tell whether you’re trying to name her after you, or after some French queen.”
“Well, she is a Stark,” Tony decides with a dramatic sniff of disdain. “And considering she shat on Barton’s get-well-soon cake, I figured it was fitting.” He pauses. “How did Barton fall off the roof again?”
“Must've missed a step,” Bucky deadpans.
Arching his brow unconvincingly, Tony adds, “Twice?"
“Twice,” he agrees. Serves the archer right for trying to sneak into Tony’s lab.
Tony rolls his eyes fondly. “Anyway, I’d take suggestions for an appropriate name for our progeny but you named her Cat, so.”
Bucky sighs deeply to smother the squirmy feeling in his chest at the thought of sharing something with Tony, and offers, “How about Pisica?”
Tony looks thoughtful and the cat hasn’t hissed yet, so maybe, “Not bad…”
“It means cat," he can't resist informing.
It's Tony’s turn to deadpan, “I hate you.”
They never do decide on a name for her. It turns out she’s only responsive when she hears them talking anyway, and only ever comes when called if she’s in the mood to be, so, they figure it’s kind of a moot point anyway.
Eventually, she stops hissing when Tony goes through every term of endearment turned name, but only if he gives her his undivided attention after.
Bucky would be jealous if he didn’t know what that felt like.
Even if it takes him another month to get up the balls to ask Tony if he’d maybe consider going steady with him, and then having Tony say in a bit of a baffled tone, “Aren’t we already doing that? We have a cat together.”
Followed by said cat looking at him with an expression that declares Bucky an idiot. She meows at Tony as if to say, “You could do so much better”. It only proves that she’s clearly smarter than the average cat.