“This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life,” Bucky declared, lifting the modified CheyTac M200 sniper rifle.
“I am literally standing right here,” Natalia said, her voice filled with mock offence.
“Didn’t mean you. You’re a beautiful woman, not a thing. Beautiful and smart and…” he trailed off as if too distracted to finish the sentence.
“Happy birthday, you moron,” she said and pressed a kiss to his shoulder.
“Romanoff, what did I say about sleeping with crazy people?” said Tony from the doorway.
“That it was more fun.”
“Well. Maybe. But that doesn’t change the fact that your boy has clearly lost it.”
“Says the man who build not one, but several walking, talking weapons.”
Bucky never heard Tony’s reply, because the door closed behind them, leaving him alone in his own personal slice of heaven.
Among the very obvious benefits of being with Natalia, he’d never thought that her pulling strings to let him loose in a weapon storage as big as a football field would be one of them. He would have to pay her back tonight, and several other nights.
Right now he had to pick which five items were going home with him when he left. The first one was a given though, because he’d seen the way she eyed that fully restored Makarov PM. And there was no way that after she’d pulled this off, he would be the only one with new toys to play with.