The American Dream

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“It wasn’t like I was constantly draggin’ him off. Most of the time when I’d finished at the docks for the day I was just too tired to do anythin’ other than eat supper an’ fall into bed.” An irony now that he hardly ever slept no matter how hard he pushed himself. He really missed sleep too. But as it stood, most of the time he stayed at home like Steve did; not exactly eager to get out into the world, his time was mostly spent either watching Netflix, tinkering with his car or cleaning his guns - two of which weren’t exactly things other people could join him with. “I wouldn’t say not bein’ able to do it is a great loss, the styles back then weren’t so great as people think. Not to me, at least.” He had seen styles change over the decades, ever time he had been woken up there had been new things to look at and take in - not that he actually realised he was taking it in at the time but he sucked up information like a sponge. “But you an’ Steve…this time suits you.” He knows Steve had been called ‘old fashioned’ but really he was ahead of his time back in the forties, Stephanie being a soldier made her moreso. “As for DC…we both came to the agreement that Brooklyn isn’t for us anymore. It’s changed too much…or, we have. Or both. But if we’re in New York we tend to stick to Manhattan.”

“Okay it wasn’t every night but for me it was enough nights of the week that I learned how to focus on a sketch in the middle of a dance. Made for some good motion sketches though.” Their waitress came back with the food ordered and Stephanie immediately started in on it, pouring barbecue sauce all over the fries that came with the burgers. There was something about the sauce that made her prefer it on fries more than ketchup though ketchup would always go on burgers and hot dogs. “I take offense to that, Peggy was a vision with that hairstyle.” She smiled wistfully as she remembered Peggy in all her glory and youth. It was an interesting world that allowed for her to say things like that and mean them in a way that wasn’t completely platonic. Stephanie neer really had a type based on looks, instead it was always a personality that drew her in. She was sure that the LGBT community of today would have a term for that but she really hadn’t felt the need to look into that information. “It was difficult to start. I missed everything and everyone. Made it hard to adjust. Didn’t get over it but I did get through it. Made it easier.” Frowning thoughtfully Stephanie thought she might not understand that about the Steve and Bucky of this world. Brooklyn would always be home for her and there could never be something that would drive her away. There were too many memories she was afraid of losing, good and bad, that remained there. “Well I guess you can’t take Brooklyn girls out of Brooklyn.”

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Bucky x fem!Steve, inspired by LIPS & BOYS , the new limited collection lipsticks by Tom Ford

“If you won’t fight me then you’ll die.”

     “I don’t want to fight you       but I’m not going to let       you do this either. Come       on Pegs, I know you’re in there.”

“I don’t know any Peggy. You’re my target. HYDRA wants you dead, expects  you to die.”

     “Peggy I’m not going to      fight you. We’re going to       get you back home, safe.”

“Who the hell is Peggy?”

     “That’s you, you’re Peggy.       Please, don’t do this.”

A nod of agreement and a faint huff of mild amusement was all he could really give. If anyone knew about the horrors of humanity it was him, he also knew the importance in not letting it eat away at the positive things. “To be fair on Steve, it’s not like he’s morose or anythin’ but he tends to withdraw.” He knew his friend could be grim and serious when he wanted and his tendency to walk on eggshells were Bucky was concerned was a pain in the ass, but it wasn’t like he was crying himself to sleep at night. “Every now and then I have to drag him out just to prove that life exists outside of his insular routine.” He managed to put on an expression of offence, huffing dramatically. “Not you too,” it came out as a whine and he puffed out his chest, letting his hand drop to the table. “I’ve already had the ‘do something with your hair’ conversation with Steve. I tie it back usually but I was on my way home an’ it’s never up when I’m workin’. Other than that I lop the ends off when it gets too long an’ I ain’t cuttin’ it shorter until I absolutely have to.” His indignant expression ended in a stifled laugh and he let out a silent sigh. “I’m with Steve; still in DC. Same apartment, even. The…holes I shot through the wall have been patched up though.”

“Somethings don’t change then. In memory Bucky was always dragging me somewhere. Making sure I wasn’t permanently attached to my charcoal and paper.” Steph had never been one to go out and go to dance halls. Part of it had honestly been her on uncomfortable feelings about herself but the other part had been her feeling content to be at home with friends. She didn’t need to have a whole party to have fun. It seemed that she went out a lot more these days, or had before getting dragged into the new world. Between Sam and Natasha and the rest of the Avengers it seemed that someone was always taking her somewhere. It hit her suddenly how much she missed that. Who’d have thought? “Well I guess I am a bit of a hypocrite. Back in the day Becca did my hair or it was down and flat. I see girls now doing the styles from back then and I still can’t do it myself.” Style had never been her concern and she doubted that it would ever really be a big concern of hers. Sure she was more comfortable in what she wore now, helpfully due to her confidence in her appearance. But she had lived enough years as an unstylish nobody that she liked to think she understood the important stuff. “Never a fan of DC personally. Though I’ve always been biased towards Brooklyn.” Steph thought it was tactful to not mention the bullets. Things happened that didn’t need to be rehashed at this point. Bullet holes in the wall was one of those things.

His head twitched sideways slightly at the snort before the ghost of a smile was replaced by a proper one, slightly wicked with a hint of smug. “Well I’ve proven more than once that I’m hard to kill, does that mean I qualify?” He lifted his hand, curling his fingers under his chin to lean on metal knuckles with an amused huff of laughter. “You laugh easier than Steve does.” A pause, brief. “That’s a good thing, by the way. Sometimes I want to hit him over the head with that stick up his ass.” His tone had turned lazy, his smile easier than the tight-lipped one he wore moments before, but he was still thoughtful. “I can’t ever imagine you as a mad cat lady - we have one of those in our building y'know. Keeps callin’ me by her grandson’s name an’ yellin at me to get a hair cut.” Of course, he couldn’t tell her that he was fifteen years her senior, or have her believe it, but he had the feeling she already knew. “Where you stayin’ anyway? Stark’s shiny tower?”

That wasn’t a comment that she was expecting, not a difference that she thought to think about. So she thought about it for a moment before responding. “There’s a lot of bad things in the world, Buck. I’ve seen more than my fair share. But I’ve also seen a hell of a lot of good. If I focused on all the bad out there I’d probably never laugh at all.” It was a difficult life being Captain America. It was no where near all kissing babies and shaking the hands of politicians. The truth was the job was gruesome. Seeing the worst of humanity in order to protect the rest of it. Still Stephanie knew she was luckier than most. If it hadn’t been for the serum she probably wouldn’t have reached thirty naturally, and she definitely woudn’t have been able to save all the people she had in her life. As selfish as it was to think let alone say, her best friend would be dead in a cold valley without the horrors of the world. “Laughter helps.” Brushing her hair out of her face she tried to picture the woman Bucky described. “Well I might agree on the cutting your hair thing. Or at least do something with it.” His hair was fine but there was a part of her that was just so used to see it slicked back and styled for dance hall dates that this new look threw her off. It was his choice though and wouldn’t be the weirdest style she saw in the future. “Nope, SHIELD apartment. Has four walls, a ceiling, and amazing security but not too much else. I’m guessing you don’t stay in Tony’s glass tower?”