Disclaimer: I unfortunately do not own anything in the Marvel universe. I do own my OC's and whatever stories I decide to create.

Author's note: This is my fic, it's a very short oneshot, kind of a side piece to a main story that I'm currently working on because I really love fluff ':D I hope you enjoy...

Charlie moaned, rolling for the fourth time onto her back. Her day had been long and hard; full of talking and negotiating. She hated the days filled with pointless word circles, they tired her out more than a week of missions, at least with a day of missions she could go home have a hot shower to relax her muscles and fall asleep to pure exhaustion and satisfaction. On a normal night after a day of training or one of her rest days she would spend most of her nights reading, only stopping when her book was finished, or the sun had come up. But on the talking days her brain was too switched on to sleep, she was too restless to read and overall, she was frustrated from the feeling of getting nothing done. Sometimes on these nights she would head over to her sister's apartment or out to a 24hour diner and drink coffee whilst mulling over the current problem, but tonight her sister was out of town and her favourite diner was undergoing renovations, so she knew she would have to try alternative methods.

The first thing she tried was exercise; she worked out for 2 hours until she was dripping in sweat and her muscles ached. This was followed by a warm shower, half an hour of Lord of the Rings (first the book, then the film), sleep-tea, yoga, some meditation and then some more sleep-tea this time with the addition of some rum. She only had one option left an option reserved only for the most desperate of times.

She put her flannel pyjama set back on pulled her waist length red hair from its messy bun and re-brushed her teeth. Charlie crept out of her apartment in her woolly socks and down the hall to the elevator that connected the floors of the apartment building she currently lived in. Pressing the button for the floor below she hoped to god that no one else in the building was an insomniac, although, she reasoned, at this time in the morning insomniacs would be doing insomniac things and she was more likely to run into the early birds of the world. After the elevator had shocked her with its accusatory ping she snuck along the blue-carpeted-cream-walled corridor to the very end and tentatively knocked on the last door. Her knock was greeted by silence, so she knocked again harder and then mentally kicked herself for not just letting it lie and leaving to sit in misery until her body could not physically take it anymore. Just as she was preparing herself to leave and her body for the agony it was soon endure, she heard the thumping of reluctant feet approaching the door and all of a sudden, her frazzled brain started panicking about her lack of viable excuses; why was she there? Why was she up so late? What did she want him to do about it? How could she be so stupid if she was going to go through with the nutty plan the least she could have prepared was what she was going to say to justify it, and then all to soon the footsteps stopped and the door opened.

Bucky stood there with sleep dishevelled hair and no shirt, a bleary look in his eyes and a confused expression on his brow, and she could finally remember that this was Bucky not some strange boy she had a stupid crush on. She had known him for years, over many years of pain and experiments. She loved him, and she knew in some ways he loved her, and he would never deny her anything and that she would feel relaxed and safe encircled by him, just as she had always felt when he was close. In the time it took her to remember this Bucky had shaken some of the sleep out of his brain and was in a state similar to anger and confusion. Ah! It's called exasperation… apologies I am also shaking sleep from my brain. "What do you want?" He managed to grunt out. Charlie had now rid herself of all prior doubt and was now feeling sorry for waking him so when she said: "I couldn't sleep…" it came out in a rather apologetic voice. Bucky sighed; he was contemplating whether he should torture both parties longer and continue to question her or if he should simply step aside and let her do the work, so after choosing the logical answer he was pleased to find she was all too willing to show him what she wanted. Charlie quickly passed the stationary Bucky and made her way through the familiar living room and down the short hall to his plain bedroom. She waited for Bucky to find her and answered his questioning look with a sheepish nod towards the bed and an equally sheepish smile. Bucky sighed and climbed into his bed, lifting a corner lazily for her to climb in beside him. She did so with relief and proceeded to make herself comfortable, surrounded by his smell. He rolled over; the front of his body was pressed against her back and his ankles tangled with hers, his arm draped over her side, hand limp against the bed. He was tall enough that his chin was just pressed against the back of her head and his nose was just buried in her gorgeous curls. Charlie found her mind slowly shutting down. She could feel his hard chest rising slowly against her back the weight of his arm trapping her to the bed and soon her subconscious was taking hold and her consciousness was drifting away.