#well i scoff derisively and slowly swivel my chair around to face you; arms crossed; smhing....hah. how greatly you underestimate my power.

[hispeculiartreasure]

All We’ve Got is Time - Chapter Nine | B.B.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

AU: If They’d Survived/Post-War/Window Washer!Bucky Barnes

Rating: Teen

Word count: 5,500

Chapter 9/24

Warnings: A bad word, a barely-violent bar skirmish

AN: Thank you for patiently awaiting this chapter! This posting schedule is much, much more suitable. You are all so lovely and supportive. Let me know your thoughts on this chapter! And send me an ask if you’d like to be tagged.

Fun fact, the Commando Cocktail was actually on the Stork Club’s drink menu in the late 1940s! It definitely had a more sensuous namesake but I just took an opportunity and ran with it 😉

Chapter Eight

‘All We’ve Got is Time’ Masterlist

First thing in the morning the bullpen is already abuzz with squeals and giggles. The typists of the office huddle around their sweet friend as she holds out her hand, the square cut diamond sparkling in the morning light.

“It’s beautiful, Dorothy. Congratulations,” you purr, squeezing her fingers after perusing the jewelry close-up. 

“I’m assuming he asked you in an insanely romantic way?” Millie sighs, chin perched in her hands.

“Yeah, tell us the story!” Frances giggles. 

Dorothy settles into her chair, eyes shining. As she begins her tale Suzy leans in to you and whispers, “We’re dropping like flies around here. Alice last week, Dorothy today. And they’re some of the youngest. If you come in next week with a ring I’ll toss you out a window.”

You hide a smile behind your hand. “Relax, Suze. It’s sweet.”

“So sweet my teeth are gonna rot,” she grumbles. 

“Cynicism is not a good look on you.”

Suzy huffs and turns a dazzling smile to Dorothy as the remaining girls continue to ask questions. The two of you take steps toward your desk and Suzy sighs deeply. “All of a sudden people are marrying like there’s no tomorrow. Five years ago if people were getting hitched after courting for six months your parents locked you in your room until the vapors wore off.”

“Are you jealous?”

The redhead scoffs. “No, but. . . the change has got me. . .” she twists to you, the cynic having been replaced by someone much more forlorn. “It’s got me feeling like I’m behind, ya know?”

“Aw, Suze.” You take her hand in yours. “I get it. The war changed a lot of things, a lot of people.”

“Yeah. Guess so.” A moment passes before she clears her throat and takes her hand back, smoothing her skirt before she motions to your desk. “You’ve been busting your tail this morning. Why’d you get here early?”

“I’ve got lunch plans. Wanted Flannery to know I wasn’t shirking my job by staying out long. Would you believe she was here when I came in at 7?”

“Lord, does that woman sleep?”

“Unclear.” You both turn to watch the back of Flannery’s head bent over her desk, firmly ignoring the fuss over the engagement ring.

“Well. Hope you have a good lunch.” With a wink and a bounce of curls Suzy is gone.

Your fingers fly over your typewriter as you eye the clock, praying your boss doesn’t approach your desk with a new task before lunchtime. With a record number of letters typed, addressed, and sealed up you leave your swivel-chair spinning when your break begins.

Wicker basket in hand you savor the sunshine on your skin as you walk a few blocks to the building Bucky’s team is currently working on. You round the structure, lifting a hand to shield your eyes against the high sun as you look for your boyfriend among the people hanging off of the skyscraper. It’s almost laughable how much he stands out from the other men in his crew.

Where most of the boys are thin and gangly, Bucky is lean and formidable. His work was neat and efficient, an obvious routine to his movements. While you did enjoy your view from several stories down. . . 

Bringing your fingers to your mouth you whistle shrilly, causing every head to swivel down to you. You can’t decipher many of Bucky’s features but you can tell he’s smiling the same dopey smile he’d had after you’d shared that first kiss a few weeks ago.

Around the grin he yells, “What’re you doing here, Sixth Floor?”

“Bringing you lunch, Sergeant! Unless you’d rather me go,” you shout back, tossing a thumb over your shoulder.

“I’ll be right down.” You watch as he slowly descends, breathing a sigh when his feet safely meet the ground.

“Hello, beautiful,” a kiss lands on your cheek while he dries his hands on a towel.

“Hungry?”

“Starving.”

You toss him one end of a thin blanket you’d packed. “I’m assuming you’re not too good for a picnic?”

He catches it with a hum and mirrors your unfolding, settling it to the ground beneath the shade of a tree in the courtyard. “I dunno. My delicate sensibilities may be set off-balance.”

“Are your delicate sensibilities offended by sandwiches and fruit?”

“I think they can be persuaded to cooperate, unless you forgot the coffee.”

“You think I’m stupid?” you say as you pull the thermos out of your basket.

Arranging your skirt to maintain modesty you take a seat on your blanket. Bucky sits near before reclining to rest his weight on his elbow, body turned toward you.

“Today been okay?” you ask as he takes the wrapped sandwich you offer.

“Just like any other day. It’s blazing hot up there; one of the guys almost had a heat stroke.”

“Goodness, I hope you’ve been drinking water.”

His eyes soften as he replies, “Yes ma’am. By the way, I have an appointment with a local job counselor next week.”

“Bucky, that’s fantastic!” you enthuse, grabbing his arm.

“Fingers crossed he can help me figure out how to head towards being a mechanic.”

“I sure hope so. I’m proud of you for reaching out to him. This is a great start.”

Before you can ask why he’s gazing at you adoringly he asks, “How’s work been?”

“Busy. Our business year is almost done so our mail has been stacking up. Plus I’m pretty certain Anderson’s mistress broke up with him: he’s been in an extra testy mood. Oh, and Dorothy got engaged last night.” 

“I thought that happened last week?”

“No, that was Alice.”

“Hard to keep it all straight,” Bucky mutters as he guzzles his cup of coffee.

You can’t help a giggle. “That’s exactly what Suzy said. Dorothy seems happy, though.” Bucky only hums in thought.

The next several minutes are quiet, spent enjoying each other’s presence as you people watch and eat.

“Dinner tomorrow?”

“Mhmm,” you hum affirmatively around a mouthful of grape.

You sense a hesitancy in Bucky as he stares at his cookie. After a big gulp he says, “Do ya wanna do drinks after with Steve and Peggy?”

Your stomach drops. “You want me to meet them?”

“I do.”

A million thoughts stampede through your brain in the span of three seconds. This is a big deal. They mean a lot to Bucky. These are his best friends. What if they hate me. What if I’m not good enough, what if one word from them means Bucky never speaks to me again? What if-

“Only say yes if you want to, I don’t wanna pressure you-”

“No no no no,” you blurt, shaking your head. “I want to. It’s just. . .”

“Just what?” Words leave you, an empty silence hanging in their place. “Tell me,” Bucky nudges, hand tangling with yours.

“It’s an intimidating prospect.”

“Because of what they do? Really, they aren’t that big of a deal, just have jobs that-”

“Not intimidating because of who they are. But who they are to you, Bucky.” His eyebrows furrow, so you continue. “Steve has been your lifelong best friend and you’ve been to war and back with Peggy, literally. I’m honored that you want them to meet me but at the same time. . .”

“Wait -” he leans back. “Do you think they aren’t going to like you?”

“There’s always a chance-”

Bucky had the nerve to laugh - not a laugh of derision, but genuine disbelief. “Not a chance in the world. Steve knows you’re special. He knows me better than I know myself, he’s seen how I’ve been since you. And Peggy. . . she may be a harder sell. But that’s got nothing to do with you. It’ll go fine. Okay?” And with his fingers running up and down your arm, who are you to question him?

“Okay.” You shove half a cookie in your mouth to stave off the urgent impulse to run away.

------

“They’re late because they already hate me right?”

Bucky scoffs, leaning his elbows onto the table in the back of the club. “How can they hate you when they don’t even know you? I already told you, Steve called before I left to pick you up. Something popped up at work and a meeting was going to run long. They should be done right about-” he checks his watch, “-now. They’ll be here soon. But to me it sounds like you’re complaining about getting extra time with me.”

You shove at his arm and grumble, “Oh shush.” All he does is chuckle. The band playing loudly from the corner does little to calm your nerves. Every few minutes you pat down your hair for flyways and make sure your dress isn’t wrinkled. You twirl the ring on your right hand over and over before Bucky’s hand stops your fidgeting with a gentle touch.

“You okay? I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“Just because I may always seem confident doesn’t mean I am. Few people get to see me with the jitters.” You slant your eyes to his. “Consider it an honor of yours.”

He opens his mouth to presumably soothe you before something over your shoulder catches his attention. “There he is.” You turn as Bucky stands to greet Captain Steven Rogers and suddenly you understand why Connie is such a fan.

You’d seen the posters and pictures of him in uniform but seeing him sport a suit and tie was another ball game. Somehow his golden hair shines bright under the dull lighting which also cast a beautiful shadow across his broad shoulders. He seems impossibly taller with every purposeful step to your table, jaw set in a firm line. 

But then the biggest smile washes across his face as he steps into Bucky for a hug. As men do, they pat each other on the back and part - suddenly Steve’s attention is all on you. Blue eyes so similar to Bucky’s grow warm.

“It is so nice to finally meet you,” he offers his hand. “You’re all he’s been talking about.”

You laugh and grasp his hand, introducing yourself. You glance to Bucky, worrying he’d be bothered by the admission of him discussing you. He’s remarkably at ease, shoulders dropped, face relaxed.

“Where’s Peggy?” Bucky asks.

Steve gestures dramatically as the three of you take your seats. “She was pulled aside for a private meeting on our way out the door. But she shouldn’t be too long.”

“Never thought you’d be the one in a relationship with work-life balance,” Bucky jabs.

“And you never miss an opportunity to badger me about my work.”

“Yes, I’ve heard you two are quite the pair,” you look between the two men.

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Oh, we’ve got some stories.” As he dives into a story involving a rock mysteriously hurtling through the window of the Barnes’ family home you can’t help but be a bit shocked.

His presence commands attention but his demeanor is overtly disarming, daresay gentle. With a boy-ish charm he animatedly tells the story, strongly disagreeing with Bucky’s adjustment of details. You were expecting a hardened war hero, rough and tumble with scars to show for it. This extremely young man was the last thing you were expecting to walk through the door. You feel a peace settle over you as the men tell their childhood story in tandem.

Bucky gives you a moment of eye contact and his lips twitch to a smile. Not so bad right?

The delightful verbal sparring is interrupted by three giggling women - well, girls. They bounce up to the table, looking barely old enough to be allowed into the bar. Gushing about Captain America this, Howling Commandos that, they talk over each other getting louder by the moment. Steve smiles tight and you take note of how much his posture has shifted. Shoulders squared back, adjusting his tie every few moments. Several autographs later the women are finally guided back to their table by a helpful waitress.

Viscerally experiencing a shift between Captain Rogers to Steve to Captain America had you reeling. Seems the duty of being America’s Golden Boy came with some steep costs. Minutes later the same waitress reappears, apologetically placing a drink to your table.

“A Commando cocktail for you sir, from the same three ladies.” Steve sighs and pushes the drink to the middle of the table, decidedly ignoring the eager glances of the gaggle of girls across the room. “May I refresh anyone’s beverage?”

“I’ll have a Sidecar and she,” Steve points to the empty seat next to him, “will have a whiskey, neat.”

“Make that two,” Bucky adds. 

You indicate that you’re still working on your first before eyeing the gifted drink between you. “The Commando cocktail. . . did your special ops team have a drink named in your honor?” you ask, perplexed.

Bucky moves his head from side to side. “Could be us. Could have a different meaning. I hope to God it’s not us, you’d think someone would have the decency not to mix bourbon and absinthe in our honor.”

Steve changes the subject to avoid any more embarrassment on his part. “I hear you’re a mechanic,” he leans in with interest.

“Was,” you correct. “Now I’m just a secretary.”

“A typist,” Bucky corrects you in turn. “And I’d say your skills are still pretty up-to-date.”

“Updated enough to do a house call? My Harley’s been making a funny noise, maybe you’d be able to fix it,” Steve says with a chuckle.

“I’d love to take a look at it. Is it high-pitched or low? The vibrations in motorcycles tend to knock the batteries dead fast.”

Steve does his best to smother how impressed he is behind his drink. 

“Don’t know what good fixing it will do ya Steve, you’re just going to end up throwing it at something again,” Bucky scolds as he takes his own sip.

“Doing. . . throwing. . . what?” You ask.

Steve blushes, moving to answer when Bucky interrupts him. “This guy has thrown more bikes at enemies than days I spent as a POW. Just ‘cause you’re strong enough to toss ‘em doesn’t mean you should, pal.”

A clipped British accent floats over your table. “Don’t tell me you two are at it again over those motorbikes.”

You turn toward the voice and realize you had not known the definition of intimidation until you’d seen Peggy Carter. She almost perfectly matches Steve’s earlier confident stride except for the click of her heels. After a full day of work her makeup was flawless, accompanied by chestnut hair curled to perfection. High-waisted trousers followed a perfect line to her feet - paired with her simple white blouse and she was one of the most stunning women you’d ever laid eyes on.

The three of you stand as she arrives at the table. “Bucky, always lovely to see you,” she gives him a brief hug before turning on her heel to face you. There’s a sharpness to her gaze as she quickly looks you up and down. “Peggy Carter, pleased to finally meet you.” The handshake you share is firm, inspecting. Just like that, every defense you’d relaxed with Steve was right back in place.

“It’s really nice to meet you, Peggy.” She nods once and narrows her eyes slightly before turning to Steve.

“Hello, darling,” she hums to him with a subtle touch to his arm.

“Did your meeting go okay? Looked intense,” Steve pulls Peggy’s chair out for her before she sits and Bucky does the same for you.

“Bureaucratic nonsense, I’m afraid. I’ll fill you in later,” brown eyes cut to you and Bucky before giving a miniscule shake of her head. “Now what were we discussing?”

“We were talking about the ace mechanic at the table.” Was that a hint of a brag you heard in Bucky’s voice? 

“Ah, yes. I heard of your time working in the factory. Do tell us more,” Peggy says breezily before sipping her whiskey.

You share the same story you’d shared with Bucky on your first date - though slightly less eloquently. While Steve reacts encouragingly and asks questions, Peggy sits in relative silence. Every time you turn her way, she’s watching you. Anyone passing by the table would just see someone listening; you could see the analysis rolling through her mind.

Once the conversation shifts you feel a warm hand gently resting on your knee for the briefest of moments. A sweet, It’s okay gesture from Bucky while he reminisced of their days overseas. Mere weeks into this and he could already read you like a book. Then again, reading each other was what started this whole thing, wasn’t it?

“. . . don’t you think?”

The awkward silence prompts you to shake out of your thoughts and glance around the table, everyone looking at you expectantly.

“I’m sorry, say again?”

Peggy drains her glass before setting her steeled gaze on you. “I was just observing that working with some men can tend to be draining. Have you shared that experience?”

You nod, choosing your words carefully - just as carefully as the question had been posed.

“I believe some men have difficulty accepting that a woman might be more knowledgeable in their field, due to their own presuppositions. I had hoped the way women stepped up to work during the war would have been celebrated but it only seems to have threatened the men that came back. I do hope that changes over time.”

She hums and adds a small, “Indeed” while Steve gives a sympathetic smile. “And how did you come to find out about Bucky’s war record?” The suspicion in her voice is minute, but still detectable.

“He had mentioned serving in Europe on our first date, so I knew he was a veteran. I didn’t find out about the. . . special operations until about a week later. One of my coworkers put two and two together when Bucky visited work one day and spilled the beans.”

Bucky grins in Steve’s direction. “She’s a big fan of yours, Stevie. Practically said she’d marry you on the spot.” Once again, Steve’s cheek dust pink. 

“For which I apologized to Bucky for. It was mortifying. And unfair to have that reveal sprung on Bucky with no warning.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Bucky insists, hand finding yours under the table.

Abruptly Peggy stands, prompting the two boys to jump to their feet. “I’m going to powder my nose. Would you like to join me?” she directs your way.

“Umm. . .” Bucky catches the hint of panic in your eye and tilts his head. What’s the worst she can do? “Sure. Could use some freshening up myself.”

“Lovely. Excuse us, boys.” Peggy leads the way through the clusters of people, past the bar to the restroom. The door clicks behind you and you’re afraid Peggy will be able to hear how fast your heart is beating. She rummages through her handbag for a moment before settling herself in front of the mirror. You take a position to her right, utilizing the other half of the mirror. 

Uncapping a tube of lipstick Peggy expertly applies a fresh coat to her already rose-petal-red lips. Even the way she applied makeup was daunting. And you can’t shake the feeling that she’s waiting for you to speak first.

 You clear your throat as you brush your fingers through your hair. “Thank you for taking the time to meet us tonight. I know how important you and Steve are to Bucky.”

“Hmm, yes, it’s our pleasure. They are very important to me as well. Both of them.”

Oh boy.

“The three of us have been through a war together, after all. You don’t come out of that without feeling a certain level of loyalty. I believe Steve and I share a concern for Bucky’s wellbeing.”

“Have I done something to make you particularly suspicious of me?”

As she turns to you, her softened features take you by surprise. “Whether he admits it or not, Bucky is an attractive, semi-notable public figure who happens to be attached to an extremely public figure. I wouldn’t put it past a woman to use Bucky to try to get close to Steve. Girls have tried before.” She checks one pin behind her ear before stepping to the door again.

You blink several times before responding. “And you think I’m one of those girls?”

“Not anymore.” She takes a few steps back to you. “My main concern for him now is the fact that he’s. . . in a vulnerable place. The war left many soldiers trying to find their footing. I want to make sure he doesn’t get tipped over in the process. I’d hate for him to feel any unnecessary pain if I could have headed it off from the start.”

“I. . . I do care for him, Peggy.” You face your reflection again, hands resting on the sink. “I had absolutely no intention of becoming romantically involved with someone. And then he was so kind to me in an environment where men have been. . . less than kind. Everything I learn about him draws me in closer. The last thing I want to do is be a source of pain or volatility.”

With a shaky breath you search for eye contact again, finding a new warmth emanating from hers.

“Well, I suppose we can work with that,” she offers as she opens the door. The tense air shifts and you give a small smile as you pass through the door and begin to follow her back to the table.

You are just stepping around the bar when a feminine “That’s okay, really. . .” catches your attention. Following the voice, your attention is drawn to a young couple standing by the bartop. Although every moment they were starting to look less like a couple and more like a man with wandering hands. The girl tries to step back which only results in his meaty hand fisting into the side of her dress and pulling her chest to his. Based on her expression what the man had to say was less than proper. She struggles to step out of his grip which only seems to tighten the more she wiggles.

You’ve had enough of that. 

You detour from the route you and Peggy had set toward the table. Peggy picks up on your absence and turns to watch you curiously.

“Excuse me,” you state more than ask. One pair of panicked eyes and another pair of glazed-over ones come to rest on your face. “Is everything alright here?”

“Ev’things swell, sweet dish. We’s just having a lil talk.” 

Yeah, that’s what I thought.

“Is that true, Miss?”

“Um, I- I’m-” she attempts to squeak out before the man bellows again.

“Was my word not good enough for you? You tryin’ ta grandstand your feminine chops for some cool cat?”

“I was speaking to Miss-” you turn expectantly towards the girl who’s looking younger by the minute.

“Cartwright. Helen,” she whispers.

“I was speaking to Miss Cartwright so if you’d please take a step back, sir.”

“I don’t gotta do nothin’ you tell me to.” You pull Helen behind you which only makes the man more belligerent. He starts yelling less-than-appropriate words and soon his anger rounds on you. 

Drawing up to your full height you stare the man dead in the eye. “Is this the way you treat all women? Or just the ones smaller than you?”

A giant hand wraps itself around your forearm, jerking you towards him. “Now listen here bitch, I-” Before he can finish his drunken thought, perfectly manicured fingers clutch his wrist. He’s violently pulled away from you, arm pinned behind his back - his face making intimate contact with the bartop. 

“Now now,” Peggy coos. “That’s no way to treat friends of mine. Seems like you need a moment to cool down.” The brute strains against Peggy’s grip, a foot kicking back every so often. You land a spiked heel directly to the top of one of his feet, digging in for good measure when his howl of pain can be heard over the tune of the band. “Thank you for that, dear,” Peggy says, clearly enjoying the situation. A scuffle is heard behind you but you’re too focused on making sure the boar doesn’t hurt Peggy to pay it much mind.

“Looks like you two have things handled, but could I be of assistance?” Steve strides next to you, honeyed voice contrasting sharply with his stern gaze.

Peggy blows a puff of air at a curl that had fallen in front of her eyes. “Would you mind escorting this gentleman to the curb? I believe fresh air is in order.” 

“My pleasure.” With the back of his collar fisted in Steve’s hand the bully has no choice but to have his face unceremoniously unstuck from the bar and pushed toward a back entrance. Peggy follows closely, speaking in the man’s ear the whole way out, waving off a pair of security guards. 

You can feel Bucky’s presence but turn your attention to the now-shaking young woman, bringing your hands up to her arms. “Helen, are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

She shakes her head. Tears hang stubbornly in her eyes, fighting not to show how shaken she really was over the ordeal. 

“I’m sorry he put his hands on you. Do you have anyone you can call?” She nods, reaching for the purse hanging off of her wrist. “That’s great.” Your eyes drift to Helen’s waist. “Oh dear. Looks like you didn’t make it completely unscathed.” 

Helen’s gaze follows yours before she lets out a dismayed sigh. “I just picked this dress up from the cleaner’s yesterday.” She fingers the ripped fabric of her dress. Now tears are flowing freely.

“It’s only ripped on the seam, that can be fixed in a jiffy.” You look over your shoulder at Bucky and ask him to retrieve your light coat from the table. He’s gone and back in a flash and you drape it over Helen’s shoulders. “Take this to cover up on your way home. Let me find a pen and paper and I can write down the information for my favorite seamstress in the city. Her prices are fair and her work is solid.” A scrap of paper and a pencil are produced from your purse and you add your information at the bottom. “In case you need anything else while you’re in the city,” you explain as you hand the note over.

“How can I get your coat back to you?” Helen asks as she buttons it closed.

“Don’t worry about it,” you dismiss. “It’s almost summer and I was due for a new jacket anyway. Just stay safe, okay?” You wipe a few leftover tears from her face and nod in encouragement as she heads to the phone booth by the entrance.

“Are you alright?” Suddenly you’re hyper-aware of Bucky’s close proximity, his hand gently raising up your forearm toward a lamp on the bar.

“Um, I think so. He grabbed me pretty good but it shouldn’t be too bad.” You rub the area the drunk had gripped and hiss softly at the tenderness of your skin. “It’ll heal.”

“I guess I don’t need to tell you that was incredibly stupid?” Bucky attempts to sound nonchalant but the slight edge to his voice gives him away.

“Probably not. But it’s better this than something even worse happening to Helen because I ignored it.”

“My God, there’s another one of him.” You both face a newly arrived Peggy who is taming her curls, Steve not too far behind.

Bucky grumbles, “Evidently.”

“That took an exciting turn. What say we cut a rug to forget that jerk?” Steve steps to your side. “May I have the honor, ma’am?” He asks, offering a hand to you.

“Me? Oh, sure.” You settle your hand in his lightly, looking to Bucky for his confirmation. He quirks his mouth to one side, nods subtly. He’s harmless.

As Steve gives you a simple twirl onto the dance floor you notice Peggy in Bucky’s arms a few couples away and you can’t help but wonder what they’re discussing. As you and Steve move around the room Peggy speaks steadily, Bucky hanging onto every word.

“You alright?” Steve’s deep voice snaps your attention back to him. He’s watching you empathetically.

“Just been a bit of a rockier night than I expected,” you say with a half-hearted chuckle. You catch yourself relaxing in Steve’s arms - not the way you did in Bucky’s, obviously. But there was still a soothing sense of security coming off of Steve in waves. “I pictured this going much differently.”

He breathes a laugh as he spins you out and brings you back in. “It’s going about as I expected, except I wasn’t the one causing trouble tonight. Thanks for that.”

A genuine smile breaks your sobriety. “Just hope it didn’t ruin yours and Peggy’s opinions of me.”

“Hardly!” he says with glee. “I already knew I would like you and the bit at the bar probably sealed the deal for Peg.”

“Really? Because I got the feeling she isn’t my biggest fan.”

“Ah, she’s just protective and tough. The first time she got really angry with me she grabbed the nearest pistol and fired four shots at me.” Steve laughs at how comically wide your eyes grow. “I deserved it. But there’s a lot of love and care beneath the cool gazes and harsh tone.” He catches your eye and clears his throat. “Although I’m not the one who told you that,” he whispers conspiratorially.

A grin overtakes your face. “Thanks for that. Makes me feel a little better.”

“You’ve got nothing to worry about. It’s driving you crazy not being able to hear what they’re talking about right now, huh?”

You sigh, the pair of you circling around where Bucky and Peggy are in both your sights. “You’re not wrong.”

“Did Bucky ever tell you the specific effects the serum had on me?”

“Made you super strong, super fast? That’s the gist of what I got.”

“To accompany that, all my senses are heightened. I can smell my favorite bakery across the city, can read signs a mile or two away. And,” he looks down at you mischievously, “I can hear just about every conversation in this room.” 

“You can? That has to be insanely overwhelming.”

“It was for the first few months. Then I learned how to tune certain things in and out. You wanna eavesdrop with me?”

You shake your head, “Oh, I don’t-umm, I’d hate to pry.”

“You don’t have to. I’m going to.” Oh, you really like Steve.

Steve turns you so he has a clear view of his best friends and seems to focus intently beyond your shoulder.

“Peggy said something about being careful how quickly he moves forward with you. Bucky just asked Peggy why she was trying to scare you away earlier. She says she was testing your resolve, which stood up better than she expected,” he spares a glance to you, “Bravo to you on that. Peggy says she admired your action with the young woman at the bar. Bucky’s not surprised that you stepped in when there was trouble . . and now they’re just talking shit about me, which is their usual topic of discussion. Did that help?”

“It did. Thank you, Steve.”

“Anytime.”

Quiet follows for a few bars of the song, your brain mulling over the whole night.

After another turn Steve asks, “You haven’t met the family yet, right?”

“Right. Bucky’s dodged the subject more than once. I haven’t pushed it.”

Steve grimaces. “I can’t really blame him. I love the Barneses like they’re my own, but they can be overwhelming sometimes.”

“So I’ve gathered. Honestly, all I know is that he has three sisters and that was only shared in a few asides.”

“Three sisters, all younger. Becca, Rose, and Evelyn. He’s close to his Ma and Becca. Him and Rose don’t have many issues, mostly because they never spent a lot of time together. Things with Evelyn are strained because she’s turning into an adult and Bucky is having a hard time letting her. And his father. . .” Steve weighs his words. “His father is old-fashioned and always will be. They don’t get along.”

“Sounds like that’ll be a fun meeting.”

“When the time comes, you’ll do great.” Steve was so earnest in his reassurance you couldn’t help but believe him.

“May I cut in?” you turn to Bucky’s voice, glad to see him smiling.

“Only if you trade for this gorgeous partner of yours,” Steve teases, mocking a bow to Peggy.

“Oh sod off,” she scolds as Steve pulls her close while the band begins playing a new song.

You nestle into Bucky’s side with a hand tucked in his, relishing in the ease of a moment alone together.

“You good?” Bucky whispers when the song has almost come to an end.

Pulling back, you match his amorous gaze. “Yeah. I’m good.” A soft kiss meets your temple and you practically melt further into Bucky.

“Thanks for coming tonight.”

“Thanks for asking me.”

“Try not to be too much trouble next time, huh?”

“No promises, Barnes.”

Chapter Ten

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