James Buchanan 'Bucky' Barnes (
nerves_of_ice) wrote2022-05-19 10:31 pm
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[WWII AU] a brand new day
Bucky wakes in the predawn darkness, long before reveille would normally be called. He spends a few minutes reviewing the mission in his head before he rolls from his cot; there's no room to think about anything else. He meets Steve and the rest of the Howling Commandos at five-fifteen. As planned, they're on the move before the hour has passed.
It's a long day, a hard day, but in the end a successful day, for the most part. The hidden facility carved into the hillside is no more when they leave, HYDRA's agents defeated, their stockpiles destroyed. But there's still no sign of Schmidt, nor of Zola, and that remains incredibly frustrating.
Still, there's reason to celebrate today's win, and the squad's more or less exuberant on their return, some fourteen or so hours later. Steve disappears into the command tent to debrief with Colonel Phillips; Bucky'll catch up with him afterward, as usual. He spends a few minutes trading quips with the others before disappearing to weapons storage to see to his own rifle - also as usual. Something about taking care of it helps him feel like he's cleaning the blood off his own hands.
After that, he finds he's too restless to settle yet, and figures it's not the best idea for him to be around others until he sorts himself out. Bucky wanders along the edge of camp in the dark, then veers from the path and off into the field where he'd spent some time watching the stars only a couple of days ago.
It should be peaceful there, more or less.
It's a long day, a hard day, but in the end a successful day, for the most part. The hidden facility carved into the hillside is no more when they leave, HYDRA's agents defeated, their stockpiles destroyed. But there's still no sign of Schmidt, nor of Zola, and that remains incredibly frustrating.
Still, there's reason to celebrate today's win, and the squad's more or less exuberant on their return, some fourteen or so hours later. Steve disappears into the command tent to debrief with Colonel Phillips; Bucky'll catch up with him afterward, as usual. He spends a few minutes trading quips with the others before disappearing to weapons storage to see to his own rifle - also as usual. Something about taking care of it helps him feel like he's cleaning the blood off his own hands.
After that, he finds he's too restless to settle yet, and figures it's not the best idea for him to be around others until he sorts himself out. Bucky wanders along the edge of camp in the dark, then veers from the path and off into the field where he'd spent some time watching the stars only a couple of days ago.
It should be peaceful there, more or less.
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Without missing a beat, he adds, “Then we better make sure you have lots of chances while you’re here.”
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She curls her fingers around his to squeeze his hand, light, then lift her hand away to slip it into her pocket.
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"I've always been a city boy," he offers, after a second or two, "but there's something nice about this. I found it when I was checking angles around camp."
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She looks over at him. "I can see how it might be a real change from Brooklyn. But you seem pretty comfortable in it."
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"Is that what you feel like you do? Sneak around the woods?"
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"I'm the squad's sniper, if you didn't know."
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"How do you feel about that?"
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Something that isn't quite a wry smile presses at the corner of her mouth and is gone again. "I just know that kind of thing can wear on a person. But you're right. It's important. And it needs doing."
She watches him a moment. "I'm glad they've all got you watching their backs."
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"We've all got something we specialize in, in our odd little squad. This's mine. But I tell you what, I'm glad, too. I told Steve that when I signed up."
There's something a little wry about his expression, just for a second or two. "Like I was gonna let him do this without me."
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Don't go on the mission to the Alps. It's not the first time the thought has crossed her mind, but it's the loudest. She takes a breath and shakes her head, then smiles at him. "You guys make a hell of a team."
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She lifts her hand from his arm and sets it on his shoulder for balance as she steps up, blinking in the dark.
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"There you go," he murmurs.
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She's not the largest woman in the world, but she has no idea how he lifted her so easily. Her hands come unthinking to his shoulders as her feet settle back on the path, and she blinks up at him. "Well, that was impressive."
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"I said you could fly, didn't I, angel?"
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When was the last time she felt playful? "Okay," she tells him, setting her hands on his shoulders. "Go again."
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It wouldn't surprise her if music started playing, because she seems to have fallen into a movie musical, where the part of Bucky Barnes is being played by Gene Kelley and she's suddenly turned into Vera-Ellen. There's nothing, of course, but the quiet of the woods and her own laugh as he sets her back down again. One hand lifts briefly to the side of his neck, the other stays at his shoulder as she laughs up at him, her eyes crinkled at the corners.
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"There. An angel," he says, with certainty.
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She pauses a beat, then teases: "Literally."
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Her hand's still on his shoulder, the other at his throat. His hands tighten at her waist, just a little, and this time he lifts her much more carefully, the single spin he makes slow and deliberate before he lowers her to the ground again.
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