Recs for a long weekend

[newredshoes]

too late to apologize (3700 words) and but I still haven't found what I'm looking for (4500 words) by verity
These are listed as Steve/Bucky, but they're mostly about Steve getting arrested with some Occupy protesters and Bucky bailing him out. And some other things, like trying to figure out how to relate to each other and be friends when neither of them quite know who they are anymore. Funny and good insights, along with great writing. It's part of a series, some of which is pairing-based, which is overall proving pretty A+.

"You got arrested for sitting next to a table?" Bucky says. "Who the fuck gets arrested for sitting next to a table?"

"I said it was mine," Steve says. "I didn't want to get anybody in trouble."

Bucky inhales, sharply, rubs his hand over his face. "You got yourself in trouble."

Crosshairs by kittykatthetacodemon (3100 words)
A wide-shot, long-game look at the Winter Soldier.
He never chooses his targets, but he always pulls the trigger.

Four Dollar Memory by nimmieamee (9500 words)
There's a glancing bit of Bucky/Steve at the end, unresolved, but you want to read this not just for the writer's incredible sense of place and time and period, but for this incredible, solid, heart-in-your-chest real love that's between Steve and his mother, and the same present, tangible friendship Steve and Bucky have. The final paragraphs too, wow, do they sock it to you. The short version: Steve has a rat problem, and his landlord won't do a thing about it. I promise you it's so, so much more.

…the rat dilemma was paramount: three had been seen by Mrs. Golovin as she’d progressed slowly up the stairs yesterday. She felt that they were the fault of Mrs. Petrocelli. Mrs. Petrocelli blamed Mr. Quan. Mr. Quan blamed the matzo factory of Blumstein and Ezra, occupying the other lower level storefront. Blumstein and Ezra both took offense. They blamed assorted neighborhood children, the kind with sharp toothy smiles and knives in their pockets, tucked between their chewing gum and baseball cards. These miscreants possibly ran a rat-smuggling ring, and tormented honest businesspeople by carting rats across thresholds and store entrances.

All agreed that the problem required Steve’s particular assistance; no one else would do.

The Only Guy Steve Knows Who Lives In Brooklyn by Chex (27K)
Ohmygosh. This might be the most perfect Fraction-style Hawkeye voice I've read yet. Basically, the Winter Soldier starts hanging out at Clint Barton's building. Chaos — and maybe a little bonding, definitely some shopping, hygiene and, oh yeah, an explosive mission to Madripoor — ensues.

“Steve took out a window, and like, half the wall with it,” Clint informs her. He stretches out on the floor, and looks at his arm. He should shower; there’s ash all over him. Lying on the remains of his ruined carpet isn’t helping. Usually he can go months without washing his jeans, but he’s going to have to, this time. “You know who our buddy Robocop is?”

“Robocop?” Natasha asks, incredulous. “You mean Barnes?”

“Sure, if Barnes is the spooky guy - long hair, metal arm, mother Russia vibe. Wait, shit. Metal arm. Who’s got a - was the Winter Soldier just in my apartment? He’s still around?”

“Yup,” Natasha says. “How did you not know that?”