howlingplayground | The Memening... Soulmate/Arranged Marriage Bucky Only

She watches him, curious about his reactions. Of course, they're similar to her own. Disbelief and the desire for more concrete information.

Sighing, she leans back in her seat and crosses her arms. "I've never had any need for one. I'm sure we could find one, though. I have to make those calls to arrange for our travel. I'll see if anyone has any thoughts on who we could talk to." She gestures to the laptop, raising an eyebrow. "Unless we can track down someone who wrote about one of these myths. They have to know something they didn't put in their article."

Edited 2021-03-13 16:26 (UTC)

He crosses his arms, and just scowls at the computer. "Trinity College in Dublin, seems the closest." He's surprised at that. "Think we can get to Ireland?" He asks. The travel is all on her. He could hit a safe house, but she's right, they're probably watching them and will grab him there.

From Ireland, mainland Europe is a hop.

He sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Alright; make your calls. We'll head to Ireland if we can, and find out more from this professor." Their Russian won't be out of place in Europe. And he speaks more languages. So, they'll be fine.

She nods. "I don't see why not. I'll see if I can get us a plane."

Pulling out her phone, she dialed a number from memory. It was an old contact in Canada who still owed her a few favors. A contact who had access to decommissioned military planes. As promised, she kept the phone on speaker as they spoke. They alternated between English and rapidly spoken French as they first scolded Natasha for not staying in contact, mentioned they saw what happened on the news, then asked what she needed. She detailed her plan, saying she had a friend who would be traveling with her. Once her contact had seen she'd been burned, they'd figured she might need to get away. They were already working on fixing a jet that would suit their needs. It would be ready by the time they got there. She thanked them and hung up.

Turning back to Bucky, she nodded. He'd been sticking to Russian, so she tactfully summarized, "We have transport. We just need to get to Newfoundland to get to it"

Newfoundland. That's a long trip. A lot can happen. But, if she can get them over the border, then they can trade off driving. Though... "Are there even roads that go to Newfoundland?" Because that's a bit north of his usual area of expertise. He's pretty sure they're going to have to go by dog sled at some point.

But then, there's been a lot of advances since he was a kid. Hell, had Newfoundland even been populated when he was a kid? He doesn't know and trying to remember makes his head hurt.

She chuckles, shaking her head. "A lot has changed since the 40s. Don't worry, we can get there with no problem. It's just a short boat ride to the island."

Standing up, she stretches her arms over her head, rotating her neck. "I'm going to get some rest before we head out."

He nods. "Get some rest." He says, gently. He'll keep watch while she sleeps. It's the least he can do. He wishes there was someone he could call, but, really, there isn't. He's alone, except for her.

That's a depressing thought he's not going to follow. Instead, he'll keep researching on the internet. One good thing HYDRA did was shove modern technology into his head. That will help him, no doubt.

She nods. "Thanks."

She trusts him to watch over her while she sleeps. Goodness knows she shouldn't... and yet. Heading into the other room, she peels off her jeans, tucks her pistol under the pillow, and slips into bed to get a few hours of sleep.

Bucky makes a throwaway email account and sends an email to a couple of professors that were consulted on the tattoos. He'll use Natalia's phone to check it later. He needs more information. But instead of obsessing, he searches out the coffee in the small apartment and making a few cups. They're going to need it to keep going.

He keeps watch while she sleeps. There's nothing going on. He watches out the window, sipping his coffee behind the curtain so he can see out, but people can't see in. However, something catches his eye.

A pair of men are casing either this apartment, or something in the neighborhood, and he doesn't like the chance that they're not after this place. After Natalia sleeps for three hours, he knocks on the doorway to the bedroom. "Natalia, we need to go." He won't even flinch if she pulls that gun on him.

She sleeps more soundly than she should, since she's with someone who very recently tried to kill her. When he knocks on the door, though, the gun is instantly in her hand and she's sitting up with it trained at his head. Once she reorients herself and realizes she's not in danger, she thumbs on the safety and lowers the weapon.

"Okay." Not caring that he's standing there, she slips out from under the sheet and reaches for her jeans. She pulls them and her boots back on and tucks the pistol in its holster at the small of her back. Clearly something changed, it's just a matter of what. As she grabs her jacket and packs the laptop into her backpack, she glances up at him. "Where?" Someone must be close, otherwise there wouldn't be the sense of urgency.

He jerks his head. "On the street. Two men that I could see from the window." Meaning there could be more, but he'd wanted her to sleep some. "Gun or drive?"

He can do either, but she's damned good at both. He puts the coffee down the drain, and stands at the door. Listening for a moment, he doesn't hear anything, including breathing, which means that they should be clear.

Hopefully, they hadn't counted on getting made so fast. That could work in their favor.

She nods, accepting him at his word. If he wanted to leave, he could have just done so without the added drama. He had nothing to gain by faking this.

Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she meets him at the door. "Let's not attract any more attention than we have to. We'll switch cars." There's no way to know if they made the vehicle and added a tracker. Giving him a nod, she opens the door and heads out into the hallway.

She quickly glances to the left to make sure it's clear before heading right towards the back stairs. She leads them up one level before exiting into the parking garage. Keeping an eye out, and trusting Bucky to have her back, she scans the lot for a suitable vehicle. There. She heads for a silver Jeep Grand Cherokee. It looks like something a soccer mom would bring her kids to practice in, but it's got a powerful engine and would be sturdy enough if someone tried to force them off the road. She makes quick work of the lock, hitting the switch to open the passenger side. Passing Bucky her bag, she works her magic to get the vehicle running. With a glance at him to be sure he's ready, she heads out at a reasonable speed - no need to arouse suspicion, after all.

He follows her, watching behind the pair of them for anyone else wanting to come upon them. When she shimmies open the door, he double checks the garage, sure that there's someone near by, but unable to see them.

Bucky climbs in the car, and immediately slouches down, so he can't be seen out the windows. Better that they just see a soccer mom, rather than his scruffy face. Still, he peeks, using the side mirror. Sure enough, the two goons spy them leaving and speak into their wrists. Someone is looking for them.

Natasha had the foresight to borrow Bucky's baseball cap and grab a pair of sunglasses from the console, completing her sporty look. She keeps a neutral expression as she drives, making no attempt to hide herself or avoid attention. That in and of itself would have attracted attention.

She notices the goons and continues on, keeping an eye out for any possible tail. "They were faster than I expected." She mutters, pulling off the sunglasses and tossing him his hat. "We've got to get out of the city."

He puts his hat back on, but stays where he is. It looks better if she's driving by herself. Better to be surprised by him being in there, especially since there's no guarantee they're not being followed by more. He makes himself more comfortable.

"No guarantee they didn't see us earlier." He says, blinking because the low-lying sun is burning right into his eyes. But he's speaking English, now, instead of Russian. He's awake enough now to speak a different language. "Maybe cross in Minnesota?" He suggests. Heading west that far will let them switch vehicles a few times, and get the hell out of the area. They'll be watching the major crossings - Buffalo and Detroit - no doubt. He'd rather not go up the east coast, if they can avoid it.

His logic for staying hidden is sound, so she doesn't ask him to move. Maybe when they're on the highway where there'd be fewer cameras and fewer people to recognize them.

She nods, "They've shown their hand, though. Now we know how badly they want to find us and how quickly they can track us if they really want to." It's always good to have a metric to determine how hard you have to try to hide your tracks.

His suggestion makes her think. She maneuvers through the city like an old pro, navigating side streets and one ways, keeping an eye out for any tails. The idea has merit. It's just longer than she was planning on sticking around. But if they're trying this hard... "Okay. Hope you're ready for a road trip." She smirks, glancing down at him. Pulling off the sunglasses, she hands them to him without looking.

He takes the sunglasses, because that low sun is headache inducing. The last thing they need his him with a headache. Can he get a headache? Probably better if he doesn't think about that too hard.

He snorts. "First road trip I've had in a while." He has never been as far west as Minnesota. This... will be interesting. He trusts her to keep the tails off of them. Hopefully, they don't pick up any outside of the city, where the cameras can't follow.

Yeah, not something to test out. There's no reason he has to be more uncomfortable than he already is.

She glances around, eyes flicking up to the rear view mirror. No. Nothing, yet. Confident that they're safe for now, she pulls onto the highway and starts to head west. Chuckling, she raises an eyebrow. "Maybe we'll have time to stop and see the biggest ball of twine." That was a fun stupid road trip thing to do, right?

He looks up at her, confused. "The what?" The reference is utterly lost on him. He doesn't plan to stop, except for food, gas and restroom at any time. He wants to put as much distance between him and DC as possible.

Bucky isn't sure which of the governmental agencies is after him - SHIELD, HYDRA, CIA, FBI, UN... pick an aphabet - but it can't be good. He has to be prepared to leave her behind, too. He knows she won't leave him, but if he has to lead them away from her? He'll do it.

She chuckles, raising an eyebrow at him. "Oh come on, you can't tell me there weren't tourist traps in your time. Stupid roadside attractions for travelers?" She doesn't plan to really stop, but it's fun to tease the old timers.

Some alphabet agencies are worse than others. Nat wants to know who's after him and why... But most importantly, she wants to keep him safe. She'll go what it takes to accomplish that.

Honestly, were the International Court after him? Not a damned person would blame them. He probably should be tried for War Crimes and sentenced to... whatever it is they sentence people to.

As for who's after him, again, pick an alphabet. He really is the world's most wanted man. Sighing, he shifts his shoulders, so he's braced against the passenger door. He'll peek up when they reach the first stop.

"There were roadside attractions." That's not a new phenomenon. "But a ball of twine?" What's so special about that?

There would be plenty of time to figure that out... Most likely the next time they attacked. For now, though, Nat is amused by this conversation.

"It's interesting because it's supposed to be the biggest one in the world." She puts just enough emphasis on her words to make him question if she's really interested or just teasing him.

Look, he looks ridiculous in the oversized purple sunglasses. They're expensive, but they're definitely not meant for him. But they serve a purpose and he'll use them until they're not needed anymore. But he doesn't quite believe her sincerity.

"Well, when we're not on the run from many international policing organizations, maybe I'll take you." He's still a shit, sometimes.

"It's a date."

She smiles, glancing at him. It's remarkable how easy it is to joke with him like this. Regardless of what the tattoos mean, at least they could be friends.

Raising an eyebrow, she adds. "But I'm not going with you looking like that."

"I'm the height of fashion." He shoots back, and it feels right, natural to say something like that. He'd pulled Steve from the river, and refuses to think about why.

Leaning his head back, he studies the ceiling of the SUV. He could go for food, but that can wait. He wants to put more distance between them and DC right now.

Two hours into the trip, he finally moves to sit in the seat, rather than on the floor, and stretches out his legs. "We should find somewhere to eat, and money."

She laughs, glad to hear him joke. It will make the trip far more tolerable. Road trips can be bad enough without dealing with an ill tempered companion.

Unsurprisingly, she was having similar thoughts before he moved. She nods, eying the upcoming exits for anything promising. "I have cash. More would be helpful, though."

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I'm sorry this got lost!

Never a problem!

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