Chapter Text
Ever since you were a child, you had always found it strange that one’s family could determine their fates. Granted there were people who could break that cycle and choose what they wanted to do with their lives, but nearly no one around you had been that lucky, including you.
When your father had moved here decades ago, he had used up to his last penny to buy a pub and turned it into a bakery, and only after buying it he had realized that it wasn’t some kind of luck that it had been so cheap. The problem was the location and as he had been informed by two men who dropped by the next day after the opening, the bakery was built on the neutral ground, right in the middle of the claimed territories. Each family ruled a different part of the city, and the neutral ground was off limits, so whenever the mobsters needed to make sure that they wouldn’t get shot or ambushed, they would meet up there.
Pub served a better purpose, but even they had to admit, a bakery looked much less suspicious.
At first you didn’t even know. You were just a child after all, and your father had made sure to usher you back to the kitchen or to the backyard whenever certain people showed up, and you had never protested because as far as you were concerned when you were six years old, all grown-ups did was talk about boring things and glare at each other. But one of those days when you were sitting on the stairs at the back of the bakery, trailing the spoon in the bowl full of cake batter you had stolen from the kitchen, a boy with bright blue eyes and dark hair walked to the backyard.
“What are you eating?”
You looked up from the bowl, making him stifle a laugh at the sight of the cake batter all over your face and you looked behind you to check your father was nowhere to be seen, then held up the bowl,
“Do you want some?”
“What’s that?”
“Peach cake batter,” you said, “Daddy says it makes you sick if you eat too much but it’s delicious.”
He frowned, “Cake doesn’t make you sick.”
“It does if it’s unbaked. It gives you—“ you thought for a moment, trying to remember what it was called. “It gives you salmons you see.”
“Salmon is a fish.”
“Yeah,” you nodded, “Exactly. It – it makes fish in your stomach, so they make you sick.”
He didn’t look like he believed you, but didn’t say anything as he took the spoon you offered him and dug it into the batter before taking it into his mouth.
“Daddy says customers aren’t supposed to be here.” You said and he shrugged his shoulders.
“My dad is making a deal in there, and I got bored waiting in the car with his men,” he mumbled before he gave you the spoon back “Will you tell them I’m here?”
You smiled at him brightly and shook your head,
“No.” you said, and offered him your hand because you were sure that was what you were supposed to do when you met someone new, “I’m Y/N.”
“James Buchanan Barnes,” he shook your hand and you scrunched up your face.
“That’s a lot.”
He grinned at you, “You can call me Bucky,” he said, “Everyone else does.”
You were pulled out of your thoughts when the woman waiting at the door motioned at you, “Miss, arms up please.”
Right. Of course.
Everyone had to be checked for weapons when they walked into the Barnes household, especially in times like these. You held up the tray so that she could pat you down and once she was sure you weren’t carrying any weapons, she took a look under the foil to see what was in it and let you pass. You tried not to get distracted by the huge house, that familiar pang shooting into your heart at how different it was from your small apartment, but you shook your head and walked into the living room to put the tray next to other food before pulling the aluminum foil off to ball it in your hands. The house was packed with so many people, all there to pay their respects for the deceased mob boss or get on his son Bucky’s good side, since he was about to take over the family business.
Or to make sure their alliances continued.
But the one thing you knew about everyone in this room? They were not to be crossed.
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Steve Rogers sitting beside Rebecca Barnes, Bucky’s sister who was uncharacteristically silent as she stared into space. She muttered something to Steve and he nodded, heaving a sigh and squeezing her hand as if to assure her everything was going to be alright. Tony Stark was by the corner of the room with James Rhodes, speaking in hushed whispers and Natasha Romanoff looked to be in a serious discussion with Sam Wilson as they walked past you.
“I get what you’re saying but it doesn’t change anything in terms of business, Bucky knows that.”
“Doesn’t it? I’ve never had to be checked for weapons at the door until now.”
“It’s a funeral, Nat.” Sam said, “You know it as much as I do that not everyone is here to give their condolences. You’ve seen Winnifred.”
“She just lost her husband, and she’s not the person I’ll do business with, her son is.” Natasha said, “Did you talk to Bucky after the meeting?”
“You know what he’s like.”
You could feel your heart skipping a beat but you scolded yourself in your head, it definitely wasn’t the time for this. You looked around for a trashcan, but of course there was none so you turned around in hopes of finding one outside the huge living room, but crashed into a hard body. He grabbed at your shoulders to help you regain your balance and your eyes snapped up to see who it was, ready to apologize but the words got caught in your throat.
He looked as handsome as you had last seen him. You could feel your heart beating in your ears and his blue eyes searched your face, slowly withdrawing his hand.
“Bucky.” You swallowed thickly, “Hi.”
He stared at you for a couple of seconds, then shook his head as if trying to snap out of his thoughts and motioned at the table.
“Are those black cupcakes?”
Right.
Yeah, that wasn’t the best idea.
“I just-” you cleared your throat, “I figured I couldn’t bring his favorite cake, because cake is for…happier times so I figured, cupcakes—but it’s a funeral so that’s why they’re black.” You let out a breath, closing your eyes for a moment, “I’m being nonsense. I’m sorry for your loss.”
He shifted his weight as if he didn’t want to think about it which was expected because this was probably the hundredth time he was hearing this. You strained your mind to come up with something to say, but before you could find anything he reached out to grab one of the cupcakes to take a bite and nodded at the door.
“Follow me.”
You didn’t get to ask him what was happening as he walked upstairs with you following him closely and he entered one of the rooms in the huge hall. You looked around as you stepped in after him, it looked like some sort of an office with a big mahogany desk, a library and a comfortable couch. The room alone was probably half the size of your whole apartment but you tried to pull yourself together.
“It’s so loud in the living room, impossible to get anything done.” He leaned back to the table, “How’s your dad?”
“He has some health issues,” you said, making him raise his brows. “Nothing serious, it’s just…he can’t really stand for so long, and he’s getting older, you know? I took over the bakery a while ago so that he could rest and all.”
He gawked at you, “You did?”
“Yeah.”
“Why did no one tell me?”
“I don’t know,” you confessed, “It’s no big deal, really. He sends his condolences by the way.”
He nodded slowly and you bit inside your cheek to stop yourself from laughing at the sight of the new yet intimidating mob boss holding a cupcake.
“I wanted to tell you,” he said, clearing his throat, “Even if my father is dead, the deal still stands between him and your dad. Nobody touches the bakery, it’s the neutral ground so you don’t need to worry—"
“Bucky, I’m not here for that,” you interrupted him and he looked almost taken aback.
“What?”
“I’m not here to ask for something or talk about deals, I’m here to pay my respects. Your father was always nice to me and I will miss him, that’s the least I could do.”
He blinked a couple of times in confusion and something told you this was the first time he was hearing something like that without a request following it.
“Oh.” He turned his head to grab the glass of whiskey on the desk which made you think he had been closing deals left and right since the morning at the same office and it probably wasn’t his first glass of the day.
“Would you want some?”
“No thank you.” You said as you watched him down it in one gulp and you shifted your weight, nibbling on your lip.
“Let me guess,” you said softly, “Business doesn’t wait for funerals to end, huh?”
He lowered his gaze, his rings tapping against the glass as he heaved a shaky sigh.
“It really doesn’t.” he murmured but something in his voice was so barely held together that your body moved before you could realize what you were doing. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug and it was only when his body froze against yours that you realized what you had just done. You were just about to pull back and apologize when you felt his arms sneaking around your body, holding you tight and if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he had pressed his nose into your hair to inhale deeply.
“Do you need anything?” you asked when you pulled back and a small smile graced his lips for the first time.
“No,” he murmured, “Thanks, Peaches.”
Ah.
That nickname again.
You had almost forgotten about it.
“How’s your uh…” He pinched the bridge of his nose, “How’s your fiance?”
Your smile faded slightly as it dawned on you, “My-? Oh right, you don’t know. We broke up a couple of months ago.”
His head shot up, “What?”
“Yeah.” You shrugged your shoulders, “He sort of- well, not sort of, he cheated on me, so….”
He frowned. “You should’ve told me.”
“Why?"
“I would’ve sent someone around.”
A small laughter escaped from your lips and you shook your head.
“Bucky, you can’t send someone to beat up a guy just because he cheated on me.”
“Sounds like he deserved it though.”
“No way.” you said, “It’s fine. How about you? Do you…?” you trailed off, and it wasn’t fair that your heart skipped a beat while waiting for an answer, not at all.
“Do I have a fiancée?” Bucky finished the question for you and chuckled, “No.”
“It doesn’t have to be a fiancée,” you said, “You know, a significant other?”
He tilted his head, that amused smile playing on his lips and you scrunched up your face.
“You know what, I’m prying. Just ignore me okay? It’s not a good thing to talk about at a funeral—“
“Peaches, I’ve been listening to people talk about money, deals, or their memories about my father the whole day. Trust me, this moment of normalcy feels better than you could ever imagine.”
You looked up at into his bloodshot eyes, something in your stomach twisting painfully before you licked at your lips.
“Alright,” you said, “Normalcy then?”
“Yes please.”
“I came up with a new cupcake the other day,” you said, “I mean I’m sure I didn’t come up with it, but I tried it myself and it’s pretty good, you know?”
“Will it give me salmons?” he asked and you shot him a look, trying to hide your surprise that he still remembered that.
“No.” you said, “It’s a bourbon cupcake, all those moms on Pinterest will worship me.”
He blinked a couple of times and held up the half-eaten cupcake.
“There’s a cupcake out there that can make me drunk and I’m eating a nonalcoholic one on my father’s funeral?” he deadpanned “When did you become so cruel?”
Your jaw dropped and you bit down a smile.
“You should be careful,” you said, “I know a guy who can send people around if someone is mean to me.”
He grinned and held up his hands, mocking surrender.
“I know a threat when I hear one,” he said and someone cleared their throat by the door, making you look over your shoulder to see Steve leaning against the door frame.
“Sorry for interrupting,” he said, “Sam needs to talk to you Buck.”
“Right now?” Bucky stole a look at you and you waved a hand in the air,
“It’s okay, I gotta get Em from school anyway, I should go.”
Bucky pulled his brows together.
“Your sister goes to school now?” he asked, “Wasn’t she a toddler like yesterday?”
“She’s in first grade now Bucky.”
“Jesus Christ I’m getting old.” He muttered to himself, making Steve chuckle.
“You’re just realizing that now?” he asked and you smiled at Bucky.
“Take care, okay?”
“You too. Thanks for being here.” His eyes searched yours, “Send your dad my regards.”
“Will do," you said and nodded at Steve before walking out of the room, your cheeks still burning.
All the way to Emma’s school, you couldn’t ignore the way your heart was slamming against your chest, and you bit at your lip, trying to focus on something else, anything else. You took a deep breath, and turned your head when the door to passenger seat opened and Emma got in the car.
“Hi!” she smiled at you brightly and put her seatbelt on, “I have no homework today!”
You let out a small laugh, “Is that right?” you asked and she nodded.
“Can we go and see the aquarium? Please? Please please please? They say there’s a whale there, a huge one!”
“Okay, okay…” you raised your brows, “Breathe, and yes we can go see the aquarium.”
“Then after aquarium can we have a tea party?”
“You might have to wait for that, kiddo.” You winked at her, “I need to drop by the bakery.”
“Wait, then I can come to the bakery too,” she said, “I can help, you said you would let me help if I got a star.”
“Did you get a star?”
“I will!” she insisted, making you smile at her fondly and you hummed.
“You can help me yes, but you can’t eat what we’re making, okay? Not this time, I’ll give you a cookie instead.”
She pursed her lips, frowning. “Why not?”
You started the car, your stomach making a pleasant flip before you turned the steering wheel.
“Because Em,” you muttered, “We’re making grown up cupcakes for a friend.”