“Hey, 6B.” – Chapter 1

{original image used with permission by Thekaskproject-art}

Summary: Bucky is on a Mission. Find out about his past and try to remember the Man in Blue. His “mission” takes him to Boston where he meets the fun and flirty, Colin Shea. With Colin’s help, he might just find all the answers he’s been searching for…but he also might find love. With outside pressures, Bucky has to decide between remaining in the dark and staying with Colin or going after the man who haunts his nightmares.

Crossover: What’s Your Number? meets Captain America: Winter Soldier/The Avengers/Captain America: Civil War (the movies and not the books or graphic novels)

Rating: R if this was a movie. MA if it was a TV show. Mature on Archive of Our Own. Not rated on Tumblr. There is some LGBTQ/slash sexual situations, though nothing erotic. It’s a simple Rated-R romcom. No porn. (Think along the lines of Wings meets Love, Darrows, kiTT.) As Cap would say: Language! Because yes, there is some language and double entendres. Not so much violence, though in future chapters…

Genre: RomCom/Action

Chapter word count: 1,173

Characters: James “Bucky” Barnes, Colin Shea, OFC Dane, OFC Lindsey, Natasha Romanov. (OFC – Original Fictional Character)

Disclaimer: All characters belong to their original creators. There is no copyright infringement intended. This is all done in fun and love for my favorite movies. Thank you for stopping by and reading.

Notes: This story was inspired by an image I saw on {Thekaskproject-art} on Tumblr. The image is used with permission by the artist for this story’s banner. His blog is full of Stucky (Steve and Bucky) awesomeness. Not that I’m into Stucky…but if Steve can’t have Peggy, then why not Bucky? Please do check it out. Leave a little love, too.

Chapter 1


“Oh God!” burrows through the brick wall like a determined rodent. “Yes! Oh God!”

As in “Oh God will someone please stop screaming so I can get some sleep?”

Because that’s why I am wide awake at two in the morning staring at the orange beam of light coming from my window and plastering its six skewed rectangles to my ceiling. It couldn’t possibly have anything to do with the man I left on the bank of the Potomac, bloodied, beaten, and bruised.

“Yes! Yes!”

She’s right. It has everything to do with my insomnia.

“Harder! Harder!”

She reminds me of a drill sergeant. “A drill sergeant,” I murmur in between more screams as I sit up. A memory comes to life, a monster being stuck by lightning. Tan uniforms. Men running in formation. A skinny kid who looks out-of-place on a military base. Who reminds me of the man in blue…


Exactly. “I knew him from before.”

“Yes, more!”

Great. A breakthrough that I can’t even concentrate on. What’s it been? An hour now? My neighbors definitely have some fantastic stamina. If he takes Viagra, I’m going to flush the pills. I need sleep!

I fall back on my pillow, tucking my metal arm under my head and try to reconcile the stick of a boy and the massive size of the soldier who claimed to know me. All while listening to her operatic proclamations. And pray to whoever can hear over that racket for some decent sleep. Two hours isn’t good for anyone, especially the memory challenged.



Note to Self: Buy a new alarm clock.

“One lousy hour of sleep,” I mumble while peeling the wires and plastic pieces of the clock from my metal arm. My vivacious neighbor and her boyfriend, lover, client—whoever it is making her scream like a banshee all night—had another round of loud screams that seems like it just ended. The third round did nothing to provoke any more memories and I feel like my night was wasted.

Doesn’t matter, I suppose. Time to start the day.

I roll out of bed and stand, facing the brick wall that separates 6A and 6B as I do my morning stretches. Creaks fill my ears as I roll my head from shoulder to shoulder, all the while narrowing my eyes and sending death curses to the exact spot I imagine my neighbor sleeping. May she wake up in a sweat, feeling as though her very life is in danger. Because if I don’t get some sleep tonight, her sex life will definitely come to a brutal end.

Much like those flashes of…him…the man in blue before he plummeted into the river.


I grab a clean pair of underwear from my duffel and walk up the four steps into the bathroom. The water kicks on in the shower, cold and icy. I let it run until it’s tepid before stepping into the spray. The shower runs hot for all of five minutes. It’s barely enough time to scrub shampoo through my hair. I wind up using the remnants of suds running down my body as soap when the flecks of icy drops start hitting my skin. Water off, I grab my stolen towel—the only one I own—from the rack. It’s scratchy material scrapes my chest and arms as I dry off. Then it’s tied around my waist and I get to shaving. Gotta look my best for my first morning at See You Latte.

I don’t quite understand the name, but the coffee shop down the street was hiring and I’m desperate to get some cash to help in the search for information.

After pulling my shoulder-length hair into a small tail at the base of my skull, I don the uniform the new job requires—black pants and shoes, a white shirt with a green embroidered cup emitting steam. I pick up the green visor and slide it on, resting the bill just above my eyes. With the brim low, I look like a soldier ready to attack. Not quite the impression I want to make. My thumb pushes the bill upward until the shadow remains on my forehead.


Not really. I’m nothing more than a glorified coffee jockey serving fancy drinks.

On my way out, I pause to lock my apartment and the door next to mine, 6A, quietly opens. Click. A red high heel steps on the tile floor, the sound resonating around the landing of the six floor. From there, I follow the curve of a dark, sexy leg, stopping when my eyes hit her very formal grey pinstripe skirt. She emerges from the apartment more like a cat burglar than a person who resides there. The door shuts softly and she turns.

A sly smile graces her face. Red lipstick is smudged out from her lips giving them a blurry appearance. She’s wearing a man’s white dress shirt, clutching the center of it to her chest. Her black hair is stuffed up under a Red Sox baseball cap. Black strands float free like webbing.

We engage in a little stare down before she offers me her right hand and says, “Hi. I’m Lindsey.”

I take her hand and reply, “Bucky.” Though I’m not sure the man in blue was correct in that being my name. Sounds fake.

Lindsey’s eyebrows lift and her bottom lip tucks between her teeth. “I’d be willing to test that out.”

Okay. She’s delightfully forward, but any relationship at this point would be detrimental to the mission. “Well, nice meeting you. I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.”

She tilts her head and begins to button the shirt, allowing a quick peek of the goods. “I’m sure of it.”

I pass her and start down the stairs, ducking my head before landing on five, then spiraling around and repeating the motions on four. The curved, oval stairs are of no obstacle for my neighbor in her red heels. The clicks of her steps echo at a pace faster than my own silent steps. We meet again on the second floor, where she takes my arm by the sleeve and yanks hard enough so I stop and turn.

“Bucky, here,” Lindsey says, tucking a paper in my pants pocket while locking her gaze with mine. “You didn’t get my number upstairs. Call me sometime.”

“Sure.” Maybe one day in the future. Or night where her volume needs to be turned down so I can visit the man of my nightmares again.

The chilled autumn morning air nips at my ears when I step out of the building. I hitch the collar of my leather jacket up and stuff my hands into my pockets. Lindsey clomps out of the building behind me and dives into a waiting cab, tossing a friendly waggle of her fingers at me as she passes. The cab drives down the damp street and I start the two block walk in the opposite direction.

Next Chapter



Filed under fanfiction, Hey 6B, the fangirling has made it here

10 responses to ““Hey, 6B.” – Chapter 1

  1. Pingback: “Hey, 6B.” – Chapter 3. | storywrtr

  2. Pingback: “Hey, 6B.” ~ Chapter 2 | storywrtr

  3. Pingback: “Hey, 6B.” – Chapter 4 | storywrtr

  4. Pingback: “Hey, 6B.” – Chapter 5. | storywrtr

  5. Pingback: “Hey, 6B.” – chapter 13 | storywrtr

  6. Pingback: “Hey, 6B.” – chapter 14 | storywrtr

  7. Pingback: “Hey, 6B.” – chapter 15 | storywrtr

  8. Pingback: “Hey, 6B” – chapter 16 | storywrtr

  9. Pingback: “Hey, 6B.” – chapter 17 | storywrtr

  10. Pingback: “Hey, 6B.” – chapter 18 | storywrtr

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