[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

[nerves_of_ice]

"That bad, huh?"

He gives her a rueful grin and pulls it from his pocket, then hands it over.

[from_the_outside]

She takes it and starts wiping away the smudges of her lipstick from his mouth, his face, and his throat. "This is easier at home," she murmurs. "Usually I don't even wear lipstick."

[nerves_of_ice]

He holds still, but blinks in surprise at that. "You don't?"

[from_the_outside]

"Mhm."

She tips his head to clean off the skin under his jaw. "Sometimes. But not every day. Usually only if I'm getting dressed up for work or to go out."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Huh." He ponders that for a moment or two, then gives her an amused look. "So that's something of a change. What's the biggest change for you, being here? If you can say."

[from_the_outside]

"Hmm."

She considers that as she scrubs off the last of her lipstick, then looks at him. "Skirts."

It's teasing, as she hands him his handkerchief back and gestures for him to give her the same treatment, tipping her head so he can check her skin, but she sobers after a second. "Honestly? It's weird to not be in the thick of things. For Steve to tell me to get out before the fighting. To have no authority or jurisdiction."

She pauses a beat. "But the skirts and heels are right up there."

[nerves_of_ice]

"I guess I can see that." He rests his fingers gently against her chin, tipping her head back and forth as he checks for any signs of her lipstick. There's none to find on her throat, and very little left on her mouth. Bucky dabs at a corner of it, wiping away a small smudge, then gives her a mischievous grin.

"So no flying cars yet?"

[from_the_outside]

"That would be telling," she says, arch, and lets him tip her head back and forth, then waits patiently as he cleans up the last of her lipstick.

[nerves_of_ice]

"Oh well. I had to ask," he teases, then folds his handkerchief and puts it back in his pocket. "You're not really wearing any lipstick any more," he adds. "Don't suppose you've got a tube with you?"

[from_the_outside]

She makes a face and shakes her head.

"I guess I should start carrying one around, huh?"

[nerves_of_ice]

He gives her a wide-eyed, innocent look.

"Only if you want me to be able to kiss you like this again without it being obvious."

[from_the_outside]

She laughs and lightly grips the front of his shirt.

"I don't care if it's obvious," she murmurs. "But I'll make sure to have some next time, anyway."

[nerves_of_ice]

Bucky smiles down at her. "I don't mind people knowing that we're spending time together," he clarifies. "It's not that. And we're not - chain of command isn't an issue for us the way it is with -- anyway," he says, hastily veering away from that.

"I'm just thinking of your reputation, is all."

[from_the_outside]

"That's very sweet."

It is. Sweet, and thoughtful, and the 1940's are so stupid about this she wants to roll her eyes. "But I really don't care about my reputation. Not that part of it, anyway."

But it does make her wonder, a little uneasily, if he'd still call her angel and want to dance with her and take her out if he knew that innocence was long gone, well before she met him. He might be more modern than most, but she's not sure he's that easygoing.

[nerves_of_ice]

Bucky looks surprised. "Okay. Um."

He gives her a careful, slightly uncertain look. "I mean, it's not anyone's business," he says, after a moment. "It just - it'd keep people from asking questions, or making assumptions. That's all."

His slight smile is ruefully amused. "Is that not an issue in the future, either?"

[from_the_outside]

She frowns at him. "What's not an issue?" she asks, her brows puckering together.

"Reputations? Or assumptions? Because I've never known people to not make assumptions."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Reputations," he clarifies, or tries. "I'm guessing not? Or at least not the same way?"

[from_the_outside]

"If you're wondering if there's still a double standard about what men can get away with that women can't, then yes," she says, dry. "But it's really not a big deal. Most people don't care."

[nerves_of_ice]

He winces at her astute observation, then smiles, quick and bright, as she explains. "So Mrs. Grundy gets lost between now and the future. Good."

He hesitates for a second, but only that, before he reaches again to brush her hair back once more, letting himself run his fingers through it.

"If you're wondering," he murmurs, "I don't care. I just - I only brought it up because I wanted you to know the, the social stuff, in case you didn't. I guess I should have left it to Peggy to talk about that kind of thing."

[from_the_outside]

"Mrs. Grundy?" she says, confused.

[nerves_of_ice]

He chuckles. "Really lost, I see. Okay, um - she's the, well, she's not real, not exactly. She's just like - it's a term for the nosy neighbor kind of person who knows what's going on with everyone? The kind who likes to pretend they're above gossip when that's really all they do, that and judge people."

Bucky shrugs. "I don't know why it's called that."

[from_the_outside]

Understanding breaks across her face like sun through the clouds, and she nods. "Okay, got it."

Still, she studies him for a moment. "But, yeah. I guess it might matter to you, so you may as well know. I don't have any virtue or whatever you want to call it left to preserve."

Sharon watches him without any sign of trepidation, just the firm determination of someone used to staring down the barrel of a gun. "I get it if that changes your mind."

[nerves_of_ice]

"If it -- no. No," he says, firm and sure. "It doesn't. And I'd be a real heel if it did."

He reaches to take her hands in his. "You matter. That's all."

[from_the_outside]

"Okay."

Her voice is a murmur, but her eyes are warm and soft as she looks at him, as her fingers squeeze his. "Good."

[nerves_of_ice]

He squeezes back, then lifts her hands in his and kisses her fingers.

"You matter," he says again, softly. "Believe me, you do."