Nobody touched the cake.
Previously, he would've thought it was because he brought it, that they didn't trust him, that they'd never trust him.
But now...well, hell. There was pecan pie, hummingbird cake, banh xoai, pralines, bread pudding...it's no wonder anyone didn't want a Winn-Dixie cake that had ever-so-slightly smashed up against the side when he was dodging kids.
It's not that it was a bad cake. It was just...not as impressive.
And, yeah, he would've read something else into it before, but, now, as he sat the wrong way on a picnic bench, back against the table, he could look at it and know "Nah, no one wants store cake."
Sarah walked past him, carrying trash bags in each hand. "You just going to sit there?" she asked.
Bucky shrugged. "Looked like you had it under control," he said, even as he got up and reached for a pile of paper plates and crawfish shells.
"Mm-hmm..." she said, holding open one of the bags for him.
"Aren't the kids supposed to be doing this sort of thing?" He tipped the garbage in.
"They're sorting out the recycling," Sarah said. "So unless you want to be rinsing out soda cans..."
Bucky reached for another plate filled with crawfish shells. "No, ma'am."
Sarah chuckled, then frowned suddenly. "Oh, no one touched your cake!" she said.
Bucky turned back and looked at it, buttercream melting under the afternoon sun. "Yeah...should have figured it, though. All of this," he gestured at the empty tables, littered with scattered remains of several dishes — grains of rice, shrimp tails, powdered sugar, balled up napkins. "No one's going to want store cake."
Sarah raised an eyebrow, then went over to another table, picking up some cutlery before returning to Bucky. "Want some now?" she said, holding up a plastic knife and two forks.
Bucky grinned and reached for the cake.
"We never got to have cake like this when we were kids," Sarah said, carefully slicing through the frosting. "Daddy'd always just say ‘You can make cake at home.'" She handed Bucky a fork and gestured towards the slice before cutting another.
"And did you?" Bucky asked, sticking his fork into the frosting.
"Most of the time. He always seemed to make an exception right around Mardi Gras..." She paused to take a bite of cake. "But I think that was because nobody really wanted to be making king cake by scratch every time they found the baby."
Bucky looked up from his cake, frowning. "...The baby?"
Sarah laughed. "King cake. Every Mardi Gras. With the little baby in it?" She laughed again at his confused face. "You never had king cake?"
Bucky shook his head.
"Oh, trust me, if you're working with Sam now, you're going to have king cake." She grinned. "There could be giant monsters eating New York again and Sam'd find a way to be here for Mardi Gras." She grabbed another forkful of cake. "Sorry, Mr. President, Bacchus asked me to be King this year, so the aliens are just going to have to wait because these beads are not going to wait..."
Bucky looked at her and swallowed his cake. "I have no idea what you are talking about," he said.
Sarah waved her fork dismissively. "You will..." She chuckled. "Hell, I bet they'll stick you on a float too." At Bucky's slightly scared look, she laughed again. "What, you think getting a pardon and being BFFs with Captain America meant you'd get away with lurking in the shadows again?" She tutted.
Bucky sighed. "I was kind of hoping so..." He ate another bite of cake.
Sarah patted his shoulder sympathetically. "Sorry to break it to you, but if it didn't happen during the war, it isn't going to happen now." She paused. "You'll be fine, though. They'll all be focused on that stupid brother of mine in the stars and stripes."
Bucky chuckled and looked down at his cake. "Did you ever think he'd do something like this?"
Sarah looked up at him. "Not...not this," she said. "But something like it? He's been doing something like this since we were kids." She ate another bite of cake. "Damn idiot."
Bucky grinned. "Yeah, I know the type."
They sat in silence for a few minutes, eating the cake, then Bucky looked up at her again. "You know...he told me not to flirt with you."
She stared at him for a few seconds. "Sam," she said, gesturing towards the house with her fork. "Told you," she pointed the fork at Bucky. "To not flirt with me."
Bucky chuckled.
"The nerve," she said, putting down her fork. "I ought to go up there, and..."
"Whoa whoa whoa whoa," Bucky said, holding up his hands. "Don't tell him I told you, c'mon, don't—"
She laughed. "Relax," she said, picking up her fork again. "Besides, he didn't say anything about me flirting with you, did he?"
Bucky blinked. "Excuse me?"
Sarah smiled and ate another bite of cake.
This The Falcon and the Winter Soldier story was written by Kate Bolin. If you liked it, there's plenty more at http://www.dymphna.net/fanfic/. And you can feedback her at dymphna@dymphna.net.