[for Jessica]

[onlyapassenger]

The ITF's job was -- and remains -- to keep tabs on everyone who entered Rapture, the underground hellhole of a city that showed up on the island as suddenly and inexplicably as any of the people who walk its shores. The primary mission, poorly defined but executed to the best of our ability, was, by most accounts, an unmitigated failure... Well, you can imagine how well I've been taking to that. We got our people out alive, but it was at the cost of children, and no matter how many shoulders want to carry the burden of what happened down there, mine may just be the most qualified.

I've followed up on all those who were injured in Rapture, at a distance, but Jessica Drew is the only one I've kept track of long after her recovery. I'll admit, her name piqued my interest. It has since it showed up in the Times earlier in the year. That she's not the Jessica Drew I'm acquainted with was obvious from the word go, but after keeping an eye on her over the past few weeks since her release from the clinic, I wonder if I didn't dismiss that possibility too soon.

'Cause she might not be Spider-Woman, but she sure as hell moves a lot like Spider-Man.

The first time was sheer coincidence; he'd been looking for Jason at the obstacle course and found Jessica instead. Had she just been messing around, he wouldn't have stuck around to watch, would have left her to her own devices with maybe a warning that she ought to be careful up there, but though it was plain to see she lacked training, she was nevertheless skilled, in her way. Rough around the edges, but maybe not as out of her depth in a place like Rapture as her injures suggested.

Curiosity, though, is what sees him return, what has him noting her progress with each of his visits. Spying on people isn't a skill he has much use for on the Island, but it's still one that he breaks out occasionally; Jason alone has kept him from getting rusty. Never in the habit of staying for very long, however, Bucky's getting ready to leave after his usual few minutes of observation when the sound of her falling draws his attention back to course: she's landed face first in the dirt.

Retaining his anonymity not nearly as important as making sure she isn't hurt, Bucky gives up his position in the trees after a few seconds of waiting to see if she'll move, making his way towards her with purposeful, but not hurried, strides.

"Christ, are you alright?"

Comments

[notaparker]

Well, I totally didn't want to join their stupid guns club anyway. I try not to bristle, a little unsuccessfully. Having the idea laughed at isn't exactly a great pick-me-up.

"Fine, I can't join in all your reindeer games, message received," I say, throwing my hands up. "You do realize if I sign up for any of the classes, that kind of gives the game away, right? I don't really have a lot of options as far as training goes."

[onlyapassenger]

"I'm seriously the only person who's figured you out?" he asks, dubious, but not entirely dismissive of the idea. She's been around for months, after all, and it's only recently that she's stuck out enough to get on his radar; if she joins any of the classes, the chances of someone else noticing increase exponentially.

[notaparker]

"You seriously are," I say.

That I know about. That's a concern. I only know that he knows because I fell on my face and he decided to step in and check on me. If anyone else has connected the dots and not felt the urge to tell me, I'd have no idea.

But then, they'd have no confirmation. They'd have to find some proof, and all of that is securely locked in my lab or on me. So that's not the same thing as knowing, surely.

Or they could just find a Who's Who of superheroes on the bookshelf at any minute. There's always that.

[onlyapassenger]

"And I'm guessing asking you to keep your nose clean the future isn't gonna work, is it?"

He's talked himself into a corner; it's not the first time. His mouth's always gotten him into as much trouble as his fists; he's not like Steve, able to talk his way out of anything. Bucky's good for quips and egging people on, making things worse instead of better. Because the problem is, he can't walk away, now. He knows she's a danger to herself, and he knows she's not particularly open to the idea of looking elsewhere for help, leaving him, in essence, the only option. There could have been better outcomes, as far as he's concerned.

"...what's your schedule like?" he asks, like he doesn't already know.

[notaparker]

"Between the classes and the labwork there's the odd sliver of free time," I say, squinting at him a little. He's acknowledged that I'm hardly going to stay out of trouble, which is good. Mostly because I don't think it would even work if I tried, I don't have that kind of life.

[onlyapassenger]

"Then I hope you're not attached to your budding social life, kiddo," he says, not entirely happy with the idea, but considering it better than the alternative of just washing his hands of any responsibility entirely. He's better than that, and he knows it, even if it's taken him a damn long while to acknowledge it.

"I already know you're more than meets the eye, so your secret identity excuse doesn't hold any weight if you're just working with me."

[notaparker]

"...kinda was," I say, because, actually, it's been kind of nice. "It can bud slower. Are you serious? You're going to Mr Miyagi me?"

I can hardly question his credentials. His enthusiasm, maybe, but not his credentials.

[onlyapassenger]

His head tilts to the side, a questioning look settling over his features.

"...come again?"

[notaparker]

"...wax on, wax off?" I say.

I even do the gestures.

What universe is this guy from, again? Maybe that doesn't mean anything to him.

[onlyapassenger]

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," Bucky replies, his expression slipping from questioning to baffled over the course of a few seconds. He brings a hand up to the back of his neck. "I, uh, missed out on a few decades."

[notaparker]

"Then it's a deal," I say, nodding firmly as if he has agreed to the imaginary deal I just made up right now. "You teach me the ways of the warrior, I teach you the ways of the pop culturally literate."

Basically by making references all the time until he starts catching on. Which may be never, admittedly.

[onlyapassenger]

"Right," he says with a dubious smile, letting his hand fall back to his side. "How about we start with the ways of not landing on your face first, and work our way from there?"

[notaparker]

"Whatever you say, sensei," I say.

This could work out. The secret stays safe, I get the actual technique I've always been missing. Peter even recognized that, back in the day, and tried to get that Shang-Chi guy to show him some moves. And succeeded in being shown... one move.

It's a good move. But a girl kind of needs more than one move.