[WWII AU] a brand new day

[nerves_of_ice]

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.

Comments

[from_the_outside]

She turns her head and glances at him, rather than following his pointing finger; he's so close she can catch the scent of clean skin. "Good to know."

Reaching for the brush, she sets the carbine down and begins scrubbing out the bole. "How do you like it? The M1?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"I like it okay, I guess. Light, easy to work with, gets the job done. Works in a lot of situations," he tells her, giving most of his attention back to the Browning.

"Do you use anything besides handguns?"

[from_the_outside]

"Very occasionally."

She runs the brush up through the bore to the action and back out again, then repeats the motion. "But usually it's handguns and hand-to-hand, if I get in trouble."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Hand to hand?" Bucky gives her a curious look.

[from_the_outside]

"Mhm."

She finishes scrubbing out the barrel and saturates a patch with oil, then rams it carefully into the bore. "Boxing, kickboxing, grappling. A few different styles."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Wait. Wait, wait, wait just a second." Bucky stares at her in mixed disbelief and delight.

"You box?"

[from_the_outside]

She gives him an amused glance back and finishes swabbing out the bore. "Yes, I box."

Sharon sets the cleaning rod aside and turns the carbine upside down to release the action. "You like to box?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"You could say that," he laughs. "I used to teach a couple of classes back at the YMCA in Brooklyn. Taught Steve, too."

[from_the_outside]

"Really?"

She likes that laugh. She likes it a lot. "Maybe you can show me a few moves."

[nerves_of_ice]

Bucky gives her a quick, mischievous grin and starts reassembling the Browning.

"I don't know," he drawls. "You might lay me out, and then where would I be?"

[from_the_outside]

"Hm."

She carefully swabs out and lubricates the action, then removes the bottom of the stock, exposing the carbine's innards so she can work on them. "Then I guess maybe I'd have a few things to show you."

[nerves_of_ice]

He laughs under his breath at that, low and soft.

"Now that I believe, no matter what."

[from_the_outside]

She slants a teasing half-smile at him, then focuses back on the carbine.

"So you taught boxing? Did you like that?"

[nerves_of_ice]

He smiles. "Sure. It's a lot of fun. I do okay at it," he tells her.

"Mostly I taught the lower weight groups, and a couple of special kids' classes."

[from_the_outside]

Sharon glances over at him, her eyes flickering down over his shoulders, the way he holds himself with easy grace. "I bet you do better than okay."

He holds himself like someone who's ready at a second's notice to throw down, and he's light on his feet; good for footwork. "Sounds fun. Though it looks like your old student Steve has moved up a few weight classes."

[nerves_of_ice]

"He sure has," Bucky laughs, but his eyes have darkened slightly at the appreciation in her glance. "Figure he'd take the title off me pretty fast now if he wanted, but that's okay. More than okay."

[from_the_outside]

"Oh, a title, huh?" she teases.

"Sounds like you're pretty good, Sergeant."

[nerves_of_ice]

He shrugs, and finishes reassembling the Browning as he says, "Three-time YMCA welterweight champion. Like I said, I do okay."

[from_the_outside]

Sharon whistles and finishes cleaning the M1, then clips the bottom of the stock back on.

"Like I said," she tells him, her lips quirking, "better than okay."

[nerves_of_ice]

Bucky grins at her, then leans over to examine the carbine. "Looking good."

[from_the_outside]

Sharon leans slightly to show him the carbine, turning it in her hands before she looks over at him. "Do you want to finish it up?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"Sure," he says, and cups his hands gently under hers to take it from her. "Not fair to make you do all my work, right?"

[from_the_outside]

She shivers a little as his fingers curve under hers, warm and gentle. "I don't mind," she protests, but lets him take the carbine from her, anyway. "It saves you a little time."

[nerves_of_ice]

He looks up at her at that small shiver - then past her, toward the front of the armory, checking to make sure they're still alone in this section. When he looks back at her, his glance lingers on her mouth for a moment.

"Still," he murmurs. "I can't take advantage of you that way."

[from_the_outside]

Her heart skips a beat and her eyes darken at the way he watches her before his eyes lift.

"You're not," she murmurs. "I'm offering."