Chapter Two-Meeting Place

                                    

                                          
            
                          
Chapter Two
                          
Meeting Place
                          
*Catherine's POV*
                          
I've been nervously bouncing my leg under the table for about fifteen minutes. Funnily enough, Bucky had asked to meet at my favorite coffee shop. The same coffee shop that I come to every day and nearly baptized him with in the street today. Adrian is still working and is waggling his eyebrows at me every chance he gets which really is not helping me to focus. Right now, Bucky is being a sweetheart and is getting me a coffee while I watch him like a stalker. He hasn't said much and I really haven't asked him any questions yet. You'd think I was writing a book based on the amount of notes I've taken though, I should've brought a pencil sharpener. Luckily, my purse is filled with pencils. The soldier is looking very normal in dark jeans, a navy Henley, black jacket, and grey tennis shoes, but he still wears a thick, black glove on his left hand. Personally, I'm just happy he's lost the baseball cap. Bucky returns and hands me my coffee, smiling amusedly when my hands wrap eagerly around it's warmth.
                          
"Thank you." I tell him as he sits back in his seat, facing the door at all times. Previously, I'd chosen a table by the window because it had just begun to rain and I liked the way the water smeared across the windows, but he moved us. We're now in the middle of the room on the wall and I notice he sits diagonally, so he can see the entire room. I've written all this down, including that he drinks his own coffee extremely sweet. My eyes shut involuntarily when the hot coffee slips past my lips down my throat, so I don't notice when Bucky snatches the notebook until I open my eyes. "Oh shit, don't..." I start, but quickly realize there's no point in objecting. His eyes scan the paper while I nervously sip my coffee, alternating with the water he insisted I needed for proper hydration.
                          
"This...uh, wow. You really don't miss much, do you?" Bucky asks, but doesn't hand it back to me. I shrug.
                          
"It's kind of my job to be observant." I remind him as he places the notebook back on the table in front of me.
                          
"And you enjoy your job?" He asks interestedly, taking a sip of his more cream than coffee. I nearly snort my own coffee out of my nose.
                          
"No. God, I hate my job." I inform him as I contain my chortle. "Hopefully one day I'll be an actual reporter and be able to actually print my stories, but until then I'll suffer as Jim's assistant." Bucky's lips turn down slightly at the mention of Jim and I tap my pencil against my notebook in thought. "You don't like Jim." My tone is factual, but Bucky confirms it anyway.
                          
"Yes, I dislike Jim. To put it lightly." He relents and I lean forward a little, putting my coffee on the table for a rare moment.
                          
"Why? What information could you possibly have read in such a short expanse of time?" I question, fascinated. Bucky lets out a bark of a laugh, then sighs and scans the coffee shop. I make a side note that he does this every fifteen minutes.
                          
"Well, it's also kind of my job to read people." He tells me with a little twinkle in his eye. My eyebrows go up as an unspoken challenge. His lips curve upwards and he gestures to a couple at a table across the floor. "Alright, look at those two. The guy has been checking you out nearly every five minutes, but he's trying to seem interested in the girl across from him so he's leaning forward. His feet, however, are faced towards you and he hasn't touched his coffee or food because he's too nervous he's going to be caught. Now, the girl." He gets ready to continue and I glance at him a moment, smiling softly at how relaxed he seems. It's a stark difference from when we were in Jim's office. My eyes go back to the girl as he keeps talking. "She's leaning back in what seems like a relaxed pose, but she just wants to leave. Her feet and torso are pointed towards the door and she isn't even making eye contact with the guy when he halfheartedly tries to make conversation." I nod along to everything he's saying, then frown slightly.