Tilting at Wind Mills
(Yes I know Bucky isn’t Jewish in the movies. No, I don’t care, he’s Jewish in every fic I write lol)
MCU/Mrs. Maisel Crossover.
1941
"I just don't see why I can't come with," Steve complains as he watches his friend get dressed up. "I'd be respectful."
"Because you can't fast," Bucky reminds him. "Yom Kippur is the one where you can't eat, remember? You'd black out in synagogue."
Steve sighs. "Bring me leftovers from the break fast?"
Bucky grins. "That I can do. Okay. Off to the Upper West Side I go. Wish me luck. Maybe I'll meet a rich, pretty girl."
It earns him an eye roll. "Leave."
He does.
*****
He steps up in front of the ornate apartment building and adjusts his tie as his sister steps up to join him.
"Ready for a fun-filled day of atonement with the family who has no idea what to do with us?" Ricky Barnes asks teasingly.
"An entire day with the Sackville-Weissman's," Bucky jokes.
Ricky rolls her eyes. "You and your Tolkein."
"If you'd just give it a chance-"
"Are you two going to come upstairs and join us?"
It's a familiar voice. Tired and elderly, but infused with warmth, and soon both of them are wrapped in the arms of their grandfather.
"Hi, Zeyde," they chorus.
He chuckles. "Hello, kinder. I was just taking a walk. Getting away from the chaos of trying to convince Noah that God doesn't want him to eat today."
Bucky chuckles. "Every year with that kid."
Chaim Weissman looks them both over critically. "You both look good. Strong. I was worried after your mother passed last year…"
"We're not that far away to check on, Zeyde," Ricky reminds him carefully.
"That's on me," he admits. "Brooklyn is full of memories. I miss your mother very much. I never dreamed outliving one of my children."
Bucky squeezes the man's shoulder. "Let's go check on Uncle Abe. See if he's blown a gasket yet."
*****
Services are long, and Bucky is hungry but he's got an eight-year-old girl cousin who is funny and they make dumb faces at each other when no one is looking.
Noah and Midge are significantly younger than Bucky, but it's kind of nice. Noah is twelve and too smart. Midge, the aforementioned eight and funny and intuitive.
Bucky isn't comfortable with his uncle and aunt's wealth (adding Sackville to the front of their name isn't a total joke), but he loves seeing his cousins and grandfather.
These dinners used to end in arguments, before Bucky's mother passed away. About family responsibility. About money. About the fact that the Weissman's have quite a lot, while the Barnes branch rarely had enough (mostly due to Bucky and Ricky's father magically disappearing back in 37).
"You know, James," Aunt Rose tells him at break fast as their housekeeper (fuck, seriously?) serves the food. "There are some lovely girls I could introduce you to."
Zeyde tries not to roll his eyes.
"I'm good, thank you," Bucky assures her. "I'm not really ready to settle down."
"Of course not," Uncle Abe agrees. "He's young, Rose. He's sowing his oats."
"And we’re likely going to war soon," Zeyde chimes in. "James is strong. They'll want him to fight."
Midge taps him on the shoulder from next to him at the table and Bucky leans down to listen as she whispers in his ear.
"Don't die, or I'll find you in the afterlife and give you a wedgie."
Bucky laughs and wraps her in his big arms, giving her a tight hug. "Okay, Midge. You got it."
*****
1945
At thirteen, Miriam Weissman attends her first funeral.
There's no body to bury, so it's really just a memorial for her cousin.
Bucky was always nice to her. Good natured and charming. Quick-witted. On Hanukkah when she was six, he taught her to make potato knish from scratch while Zeyde critiqued from the kitchen table.
"No side seat cooking," Bucky had joked. "You wanna teach her, you come over and teach her."
There's a handsome blonde man -Captain America - speaking to the congregation about her cousin. About what kind of man he was, and it all rings true.
Midge remembers Steve. He used to come with Bucky to dinners sometimes. Small. Always polite. When she was little, he drew her a pretty picture of a flower that she still has framed on her wall.
He looks so deeply sad, and Midge looks at her hands to avoid crying.
Captain America dies not long after Bucky does.
She pulls the picture he drew off her wall and stows it away.
****
1950
Just before he passes away, Chaim Weissman promises his pretty granddaughter he'll make good on that wedgie when he catches up to James in the afterlife.
Midge laughs and cries at that.
*****
November, 1954
“Congratulations,” a soft voice says. The accent is British, and Midge frowns as she turns her head.
She gave birth to her first child just a few hours ago, and she’s exhausted, so she’s not even sure if this is real, but there, sitting next to her is a beautiful woman. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Dressed in a sharp skirt suit.
“Thanks?” Midge tries, blinking rapidly.
The woman smiles. “We haven’t met. My name is Peggy Carter. I worked with your cousin, Sergeant Barnes and his friend, Captain Rogers.”
Midge blinks rapidly, looking surprised. “I…did you find something? Did you find-”
Peggy reaches out then, placing a hand on Midge’s. “I’m sorry. No. That isn’t why I’m here. I’m here to ask for your help.”
“Me?” Midge asks.
Peggy nods. “My agency has multiple operatives who work under deep cover,” she explains. “It’s very dangerous. It’s very isolating. It’s difficult for them, at times, to keep their humanity intact. Bucky spoke fondly of you. That you were his favorite cousin. I know that you’ll be busy with your new addition for a while. But after…I was wondering if I could send them your way for a warm meal every now and then.”
Midge bites her lip.
“You won’t be involved in anything they’re doing,” Peggy promises. “You won’t be asked to carry secrets. They’ll be sent in under the guise of old friends of your cousin’s. And in quite a few cases, it won’t be a lie. Just dinner.”
Midge thinks about that for a moment. About how she wishes she could make knish with her favorite cousin again.
And she nods. “Give me a few months to get this motherhood thing under control, and then send ‘em my way.”
Peggy smiles at her. “You’ll get forty-eight hours warning each time. Expect a call in six months.”
“Your friends better be ready for the best meal of their lives,” Midge smirks.
The older woman chuckles as she gets to her feet. “You are very related to James Barnes.”
“Damn right.”
*****
1955
“Who’s coming over for dinner?” Joel asks.
Midge smiles. “Just an old friend of my cousin’s.”
“And his name is Dum-Dum?” Joel scoffs. “What the fuck kinda name is that?”
Midge shrugs and smiles wider.
*****
December 1957
At eight months pregnant with baby number two, Midge knows she shouldn't be running around late at night, but she forgot the extra potatoes for the knish tomorrow and she can't sleep anyway, so she finds herself at a corner market.
There's only one other shopper this late and he's a big man in a bulky coat, gathering pears into a bag.
There's something unsettling about the man. And familiar.
"Late night snack?" She asks.
He glances at her.
"I forgot the potatoes for the knish. My husband hates them but I love them."
Still no answer, but he becomes more familiar the more she looks at him.
Midge tilts her head. "You remind me of someone."
He drops his pears and storms out.
She frowns down at them, laying on the floor, the only evidence the man was ever there at all.
*****
1964
Lenny Bruce loves his second wife but some fucking times he is very confused by her.
Like now.
He's hanging out with her on tour in California. It's late. He's tired. But he's chasing after her as her heels click quickly down the street.
"Midge-"
"Saw a ghost!"
"Midge, for christ sake, what does that even mean?"
"What do you mean what does that mean? It means I saw a ghost."
"Friend or foe?" Lenny asks.
"Family."
"So both."
She stops and frowns as she looks around the empty LA street. "I could have sworn…"
Lenny catches up, taking her hand and giving her a gentle tug. "Midge, talk to me."
Midge bites her lip, looking around and then back at him. "I had a cousin die in action in 45."
Lenny frowns. "I didn't know…"
"Papa had an older sister," Midge explains. "She had two kids, and one was a boy. James. His name was James and he was fun. Nice to me. Anyways, I…they never recovered his body, and…just before Esther was born I ran into someone who looked…so much like him. In the eyes. And now…"
"That guy on the corner?"
She nods.
He pulls her close. "You know, grief is strange, and long, Sweetheart. I'm not saying you're crazy, but this might be leftover shit from his death."
Midge considers that, cuddling in against him. "I guess it could be. I was so sure, though."
"Evening, folks," a man says with a smile as he walks up. "Late for anybody to be wandering around."
"Well, we're comics," Lenny explains. "Terrible creatures of the night. And ghost hunters, apparently."
"Say, you're Lenny Bruce and Midge Maisel," the man marvels. "I don't suppose I could get an autograph."
Midge smiles kindly and unwraps from Lenny. "If you've got paper and pen, we've got autographs. Who are we making it out to?"
"Alexander," he replies, as he pulls out a little pad of paper and a pen. "Alexander Pierce."
Lenny watches the man as he waves the pen in a strange way, and suddenly the street seems to settle around them in a way it hadn't before. As if someone who wasn't supposed to be there in the first place had gone.
He signs quickly, letting Midge make small talk with this Pierce guy, and when they finally head back for their hotel, Lenny is so fucking relieved.
*****
2014
The Village Vanguard
"Good evening, everyone. I'm Mrs. Maisel and Captain fucking America is sitting in the back, holy shit."
The crowd- Steve included - laughs.
"I have a secret to tell you," she says closely to the microphone. "I knew Captain America when he was just a scrawny Brooklyn kid who could get knocked over by a stiff breeze. And boy fucking howdy do I have stories."
Steve laughs more and shakes his head. Sam is laughing too.
"Have you ever watched a 98 pound gentile try to flirt with the tallest Jewish girl in the room?" Midge asks. "Let's settle in. It's summer, 1939. He is the only goy at our Catskills resort, and he is in it to win it with Shira Farber, who is six foot one and could break him in two. Now, as a little girl I just thought it was silly. As an adult? I have to ask: Steve, are you just really into women stepping on you? Because that is what would have happened if you'd succeeded."
The audience laughs and Steve rubs his face. "I asked for this by showing up, didn't I?"
"Getting roasted by an 81 year old woman who's done it professionally since the 60s? Yeah."
"Is it wrong to talk about Captain America and sex?" Midge asks. "Does being a symbol of the ideal America preclude you from wanting a good fuck? Not that he has to want to fuck, but is it because he doesn't want to fuck or because the government doesn't want him to fuck? I bet those USO girls back in the day knew the answer to that question."
Sam slowly looks at Steve.
Who turns red.
"I mean that begs the question: is the American dream sexless?" Midge asks. "We've always been disturbingly puritanical, haven't we? My late husband got arrested how many times for dirty jokes? Where is the we like to fuck political party? Where's the candidate handing out Plan B at their town halls? You know. Just in case. Sure, we want liberty, but a lot of us also want orgasms. What is congress' plan to increase getting off in the coming fiscal year? Not that kind of coming. I mean I hope I'll be coming sometime in the next fiscal year."
Sam laughs loudly at that.
"Yeah, Mr. Falcon thought that was funny. I bet he fucks."
Steve laughs at that one as Sam shrugs sheepishly.
"Can you imagine being the woman to take Captain America's virginity?" Midge asks. "Steve, when you made it with a woman for the first time, did you sing the National Anthem?"
Steve laughs and plays along. "My Country Tis of Thee!" He calls back, making the audience, and Midge laugh.
"Good answer," Midge praises. "People think Captain America, they think patriotism. They think of earnest heroism. I think that guy at the Seder table who insisted on eating the horse radish and then hogged the bathroom for an hour. Steve, you were not the only one with a sensitive stomach that night Steve."
"Seven days of Passover, seven days of lighting a scented candle in the bathroom because you may think Captain America's shit smells like fresh apple pie, but I can assure you it does not."
Amidst the applause she beams. "I'm Mrs. Maisel. You've been wonderful. Captain America is still a great sport. Thank you and goodnight!"
*****
Midge smiles at them as she sits in the little dressing room.
"Hi, Midge," Steve grins sadly. "Great set."
"Thanks for playing along," she says. "But I'm guessing you're here about Bucky."
Steve nods solemnly. "I guess you heard."
"Hard not to," Midge tells him. "When they didn't find the body, his sister and my grandfather held out hope that maybe he'd survived…and now I know that the handful of times I thought I saw him, I probably did. Maybe…maybe he remembered me a little through the brainwashing."
"We're gonna find him," Sam promises.
She smiles sadly. "If you do, tell him Cousin Midge says hello."
*****
2018
To the Ruler of Wakanda, King T'Challa
My name is Miriam Weissman-Bruce. The world at large mostly knows me as Midge Maisel, and I make people laugh for a living.
We've never met, but it seems your country is currently taking care of a family member we all thought had died back in the 40s.
I write to you because he hasn't returned any of my letters. I know he's received them. Wakandan mail is top notch, and I know he has the ability to write back; The idiot lost his non-dominant hand.
I think he's too ashamed to talk to me.
I write to you not just to complain like the truly Jewish woman I am, but to request permission to visit him in Wakanda. I ask no special treatment (though if you have comedy clubs, I'd be more than happy to perform and make fun of America for your citizens), I only want to see James sooner rather than later. I'm pushing 90. I'm figuring I don't have time for him to get his shit together.
Can I say 'shit' to foreign royalty? I guess I'll find out.
Thank you for your time and consideration.
Miriam "Midge Maisel" Weissman-Bruce
*****
Bucky Barnes narrows his eyes as Ayo holds the hand of a small, shriveled white woman, helping her through the field toward Bucky’s hut.
“You know, I know several fashion designers who would cut off their own left foot to make clothes for you,” the older woman chats. “Really. You are stunning. And so tall.”
Bucky squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, realizing who the old woman is. He holds back tears and takes a breath. “Everybody’s tall to you Midge. You’ve been short your whole life.”
“The curse of the Ashkenazi Jewish woman,” Midge jokes. “Short as fuck.”
“What is she doing here, Ayo?”
“She petitioned our king for a visit,” Ayo tells him. “And she promised him a comedy show. And then when she got here, she insisted on cooking for the royal family to express her gratitude.”
“We’re Jews,” Midge chimes in. “We’re very good at feeding people.”
“Are you telling me you made dinner, and I missed it?” Bucky asks, feeling deeply disappointed suddenly.
“It’s tomorrow night,” Midge assures him, waving the free hand that isn’t holding onto Ayo. “I was told I had to come knock some fucking sense into you first.”
“Sense?” Bucky asks, offended.
“Fucking sense,” Midge corrects him. “Not responding to my letters. What the fuck, James?”
“I like her,” Ayo grins as she helps Midge settle onto a little bench near the hut. “I cannot believe you are related. She is much funnier than you are, Barnes.”
“Well, she did make a career out of it,” Bucky points out.
Midge looks up at him curiously. “You’ve heard my material?”
“When I found out, I bought all your records,” he tells her, sitting next to her and taking her hand. “Hi, Midge.”
Her eyes well up with tears and her unsteady hand squeezes his. “Hi, Bucky. How’s life?”
“Oh, you know,” he shrugs his shoulders. “I caught some fish yesterday.”
Midge laughs and shakes her head. “My husband loved to fish. You would have hated him and then loved him after you got to know him better.”
Bucky smiles, letting go of her hand to wrap his arm around her. “Tell me all about it.”
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