#bbf writes

It had surprised you when Bucky asked if you wanted to go to a local county fair. He wasn't normally the type to mingle among crowds. It was a nice day, the temperature hadn't reached unbearable highs quite yet for the time of year, so the walk to the festival didn't leave you worn out. 

You really didn't partake in anything, just meandering through the aisles and exhibits. There were booths set up for games and people selling items. You had perused a few of the goods booths but hadn't purchased anything yet, you wanted to see what else was available. 

Bucky was talking about something when you suddenly stopped short in front of him, causing him to bump into you. You were sure the visual that followed caused humor for spectators as Bucky tried to prevent the both of you from falling. 

The small chaos you caused went unnoticed for the most part, even if you had a beefy Avenger plow into you., "Bucky, I want it!" 

Bucky looked confused. "Want what?"

"That!" you exclaimed and pointed to a games booth that had a giant plush penis hanging on the side with other innocent prizes like stuffed bears and plush avocados. It even had a tiny smiling face on it. 

When Bucky realized what you were pointing at, his face changed to a mix of horror and disgust. The plushie even had balls. "What the fuck. Why?"

"It's so cute!"

No one should ever describe dick and balls as cute. It didn't matter if it was plush or real. 

"C'mon, baby," you said, grabbing his hand and pulling him in the direction of the booth. It was a shooting game no less. You had to remove the star with a BB gun. "Oh Bucky! You can win it! You're a marksman!"

Bucky wished he was anywhere but right here. "No. I'm not playing so you can win a dick." His voice lowered to only you could hear. "Why would you want a fake one when you get a real one regularly. Less than three hours ago."

You pouted. "Because I can't cuddle yours."

"The fuck you can't."

"I can't exactly take it out while we watch movies with the team."

"You're not cuddling that in front of the team."

Things had gone a little sideways and instead of being home by dinner, you and Bucky were sent to a safe house. You're not sure who actually owns it. There was an envelope in a mailbox at a post office that contained the key. It felt like a trap. What if Steve was lying again and you'd really be mauled to death by raccoons at this supposed safe house. 

Bucky didn't seem to care about raccoons. He just wanted to go to bed. The super soldier was tired and irritated and wanted to throttle his best friend. Steve was lucky he wouldn't be within reach tonight. He pushed open the door of the modest little safe house. It didn't smell moldy. Thankfully. 

The door opened to an open concept kitchen and living room. The bathroom - thankfully not open concept - was at the back of the living room. A staircase off to the side of the living room led up to what looked like a loft. You couldn't see anything from the first floor due to a half wall up top. 

You didn't worry about eating. Once you had made it to safety, you and Bucky had found a roadside dinner that had better food than what you anticipated. You headed for the staircase as Bucky headed for the bathroom. 

“I can sleep on the couch,” he told you, shutting the bathroom door. 

You merely shrugged. It wouldn't have been the first time you had shared a bed with a team member. You hadn't shared with Bucky but no one could be as bad as Nat. That woman was either a damn starfish or a stage five clinger. It had been a damn fight all night for you. She woke up well rested. 

You heard the bathroom door open by the time you made it up the stairs. “Uh…that won't be necessary,” you said, taking in the loft’s appearance. 

You heard Bucky walking up the steps. “Big bed?”

You shook your head as you stared at the loft filled with full size beds. There were five beds along each half wall. “Why the fuck do they have so many beds?”

“Why are they all made up?”

“What the hell,” you muttered and tossed your bag on the nearest one. You tentatively sat on it. “Oh shit these are comfy. Fuck Steve. I'm not leaving tomorrow.”

Bucky Barnes had spent three-fourths of his time alive being under the control of an evil agency. The last time he had free-will he was following orders in World War 2. Property of the US Army; following Steve Rogers yet again. But that tenure was brief compared to Hydra. Hydra was 70 years of torture.

But that was then. That thing - he didn't even consider himself a man during that time; more of a monster - didn't exist anymore. At least that's what he kept telling himself when the nightmares came, when the screams echoed in his head (whether his own or the screams of others).

He felt he would forever be indebted to the people of Wakanda for taking the time to help him. It didn't fully remove the monster in him, but it helped tremendously. His gratitude was indescribable.

Bucky had gotten caught up in a sudden rain storm one day after he made it back to Brooklyn from Wakanda.

He was just trying to make it home with a few groceries when he heard the tiniest cry above the din of the rain. He was able to track down the cry to a garbage can in a nearby alleyway. Inside the can he found a small gray kitten.

“Oh hell,” he murmured. He had nothing to put the cat in except one of his reusable grocery bags. After a few minutes rearranging, he held the kitten in the sack in one arm and his groceries in the other hand.

He wasn't sure what he was thinking by taking this kitten home. He didn't know the first thing about kittens. This one looked young too. He stopped under an awning to look up nearby pet places. He located one and once there discussed the kitten, not with an employee, but with someone who volunteered at a rescue. They told him everything he would need to do to help the baby get stronger and thrive. They provided him with links to references to learn about raising cats as well as finding the right vet. Bucky left the shop with more bags and more confidence.

Upon bringing the cat home, Bucky gave it its very first bath in the kitchen sink. The kitten cried pathetically. Bucky took the cat - which looked like an angry wet rat - and wrapped it in a kitchen towel. He held it up to eye level and said, “I am no longer the Winter Soldier. I'm James Bucky Barnes and you are part of my efforts to…be a better human.”

His kitten did grow and thrive. She was not a gray cat but a very dirty solid white cat. She had blue eyes like him; he thought that was cool. Feeding her around the clock had driven the dark thoughts out of his head, seeing her grow helped him feel less like a monster. Her purrs calmed his anxiety. He didn't let himself spiral because his girl needed him.

A name had been hard to come by. Not Bucky Barnes scrolling name sites for the best cat name. He wasn't going to settle for something basic. He stumbled on the name Alpine by accident and thought that it fit the cat, and maybe it would help to have a positive association with anything having to do with the Alps.

Bucky had concerns with Alpine because she wouldn't always respond to him. He read in online forums that cats were independent and had selective hearing intentionally but he felt this was different. She would chatter to him when she knew he was talking to her but he couldn't rouse her from sleep with noise. His vet told him that she likely had hearing loss genetically. That it was a common trait of white cats with blue eyes. The vet informed him that she could have a wonderful life with a few adaptations. Adaptations. Bucky could relate to that.

Alpine thrived and a year later, Bucky didn't know what he would do without her. When the nightmares came she'd cuddle close and he'd wrap his arms around her while she purred and kneaded on his arm. Alpine never knew the monster he once was. All she knew was the man who fed her and loved her and saved her from that garbage can. Alpine knew she once was scared and now she wasn't.

If someone on the street had come up to you and told you that Bucky Barnes wanted to be a mermaid you'd probably think they were trying to pull a fast one. But no, it was happening in your own home.

“This is worse than the bananas,” you heard Bucky mutter from the spare room as you walked in. It wasn't so much a bedroom as it was just a catch all room. Right now it’s being used as a dressing room.

“What about bananas?” You asked your handsome man as he appeared to be struggling on the floor. You were careful to avoid the fins as you stepped around to sit in a chair.

“Nothing. This is just,” Bucky made an irritated gesture towards the fins, unable to find the right words.

You nodded, “what's wrong with it?”

“It’s not forming correctly to my legs.” He picked up his legs and flapped the tail causing Alpine to attack the fins. “Stop. You're not helping.”

You didn't expect this type of thing a year ago to be honest. Bucky had been swimming down at the rec center to help with some minor joint pain. He said the serum helped with a lot of things but some aches and pains still persisted. He started swimming as an additional way to work out with low impact pain.

But then he came home and showed you a photo on his phone. A flyer on the bulletin board at the rec center offered mermaid classes, which Bucky pointed out would be an amazing core exercise. He told you he was going to try it and did you want to join him?

You passed on joining the classes but occasionally you sat in on the lessons. Bucky was one of few men in the class and it amused you when you learned he had a fanclub. You couldn't blame the people; Bucky wet in swim trunks made a very nice picture.

Bucky took the lessons very seriously. He worked on the exercises during non-class time and even worked in some of the hip motions during more intimate times. But now he was wanting to take more advanced lessons using a tail. He had purchased a silicone tail which offered a firmer fin towards the bottom which offered more of a core exercise.

The hours he had spent poring over various tails had been exasperating and amusing. ("Do I want a tail to match my arm? No. I don't think I do. Oh wait, they do have a black and gold one." Alpine had chirped her approval of that tail.)

“Did you measure correctly?”

“Yeah. I even found a YouTube video that showed how to measure properly,” he said, trying to adjust it. “I guess I can get a size up.”

“With all the workouts you do, I wouldn't be surprised if your measurements changed a bit. You are…thick.” While you loved all of him no matter what, there were certain parts that drew your eyes. The man had wonderfully robust thighs.

He sighed.

“I mean this in the best way possible…did you lube yourself up?”

He opened his mouth to say something funny but the thought occurred to him that he hadn't put anything on. “Can you get me some? I'm…stuck.”

You grinned mischievously. “Can I oil you up, too?”

"You oil me up and I will definitely not fit in this tail.”

You didn't see the problem with that one bit. You were quickly on your way to get the oil and towels.

“Sweetheart, I'll be back before you know it, I promise. You'll be chasing me out the kitchen like that,” he snapped his fingers as he pulled her closer to him with his free arm. He was scared he wouldn't come back. Too many hadn't come home. What made him any different? He tried not to convey that to her even though she was thinking the same thing. 

“I'm not ready for this,” she whispered. 

“Nobody is but we'll get through this. I'll be home soon. Maybe we can try harder for a baby,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Grace let out a broken laugh, wiping her eyes. “You have to come home first.”

“I will, Gracie. I promised you I would. You know I don't break my promises.” 

Grace's eyelids felt like they each weighed a ton as she tried to open them. Barely making out the light caused either by daylight or an overhead fixture. Her dry scratchy throat burned with the urge to cough. Goddamn Howard. Attempting to open her eyes again, she made out a blurry figure off to the side. 

"Another failed attempt, Howard?" she croaked, closing her eyes yet again due to the very bright lights. Grace hoped he understood her words; she barely managed to get them out. She wouldn't be able to again without water. 

Opening her eyes again, the figure had moved closer to her. "I'm not Howard." The voice sounded far off despite the closeness. She forced her eyes to focus as the man moved nearer.

No, it wasn't Howard at all, this man sounded nothing like him. Who was it? "No," she agreed, squinting at him. She tried to say more but her voice gave out. "Water?" She rasped out. 

The man moved away but Grace wasn't sure where he went. Perhaps he went to the other side of the bed? She tried to move her head but was unsuccessful. 

"Don't move. I don't need the doctor to yell at me even more," the man said, coming back to the original side. "I've got a straw if you'll open your mouth." 

Grace tried to comply and ended up spilling the water down the side of her face. Fantastic. She knew her brain was working but she figured the communication between it and everything else was rusty. 

"Ah, shit, sorry. Let me get someone who knows what they're doing." 

The man disappeared again for what seemed like several minutes this time. While she waited she kept trying to get her vision to cooperate. She could see the pillow in her periphery really well. Beyond that it was just a haze. Light and dark fuzziness. The man came back. He still didn't tell her who he was. She assumed he wanted to talk to her otherwise she didn't know why a stranger would hang around. He clearly wasn't a doctor or nurse. The man's silhouette was accompanied by another person though she couldn't tell if it was a man or woman until they spoke. 

"Good afternoon, I'm Grace, your nurse. I'm going to raise the head of your bed, after I do that can you open your mouth? I've got a small sponge with water I can put in your mouth." It was a woman this time.

Grace, the patient, nodded in compliance and after she removed the sponge, she attempted to speak again. "Who?" She tried to gesture to the man shaped blob, but she didn't actually do anything. 

"Not yet," Nurse Grace told her, trying to take notes as to your current progress. She held an object a small distance in front of her. "Can you tell what I'm holding?" She shook her head. "Now?" She asked moving it closer. The patient shook her head again. She did it several more times until she could identify the pencil at about 6 inches away. "What do you see when things are further away?"

"Light. You're a...dark..." Grace tried to gesture again but her hand failed to move. "Shape. Him too." 

The nurse nodded though Grace could barely see it. She put her patient through a series of more basic tests before leaving. The man had been standing off to the side for the majority of the time watching everything. 

"Who are you?" She squinted trying to sharpen the blurry outline into something recognizable. Her voice was stronger now at least. She only wished her sight would catch up. 

"I could ask the same of you. How'd you know Howard?"

"Who are you? I asked first" was the only response. She had no idea where she was, who she was with, or even when she was. Well, she figured she was at a hospital in New York if the man's accent was accurate; at least he sounded like he might be from New York. It was different. But if she had gone far in time would she have stayed in New York? She didn't know where Howard would have put the chamber. She honestly would be so pissed off at Howard if she had lost her vision even temporarily for only a couple week’s time frozen.

"Tony Stark. Howard's son. How'd you know Howard?"

"Bullshit. Howard doesn't have children." Grace now knew this was some joke after the experiment failed. This must have been someone Howard hired to retrieve her.

"Yeah, well, turns out he did one thing right. Lucky me. How do you know Howard?" Stark asked turning her own method on her.

"He's a friend of sorts. I worked for him as a partner for a while. He's been working on some projects; I've been helping him with this latest one for the last couple years. How do YOU know Howard? Are you a cousin or friend?" 

"I told you already. What kind of project?" That made sense if Howard didn't tell him. He didn't share a lot of information with a lot of people. 

"Howard doesn't have children," she argued; she was adamant about this. She knew Howard got around but she was fairly certain he didn't have children; especially one that was clearly an adult. The man sounded older than she was. "Project is classified. Are you from New York?"

“Do I sound like I'm from Connecticut or something? What year is it?" The nurse had already asked her this and she had given an answer which caused the nurse to raise her eyebrows towards Stark. He had brushed it off at the time.

"You just have an accent. It sounds like New York but it sounds different. I already answered what year it is. It's 1945. May. Hitler's been dead two weeks," she answered with annoyance in her tone.  Grace had just told the nurse the full date. Was this man not listening? Maybe she hadn’t been frozen very long after all. This was getting to be too much. She couldn't see, her limbs weren't working like they should, and now she had this man not listening to her and asking the same things over and over.

"You wanna talk accents? I don't even have to ask where you're from. How'd you get here?" He asked. 

Where she was from? Her home. She was a Brooklyn girl through and through. She hadn't lived anywhere else. "Here where? This... hospital?" She guessed that's where she was. There was a nurse and talk of doctors. She shifted her hands and feet around, at least they seemed to be cooperating now.

"Sure."

"I don't know. Last thing I remember was Howard closing the lid of the chamber. We didn't know what to call it. I took a deep breath and I was out. Where is he? I didn't think this was going to work. People are a bit more difficult than plants," Grace told him, moving her neck more. It felt stiff. 

"He's not available right now. Tell me about the project. I read his journals." 

Grace paused. She didn't know Howard had shared the journals of this project. That didn't seem right. "Howard liked to experiment. He found a way to freeze living things and then revive them after a time. It started small. With plants. There was some success after several days. No wilting. No issues. After several attempts he wanted to use an animal. Some were successful, some weren't. We adjusted calculations. Eventually I volunteered myself, I didn't want to try this on someone else. He told me no. After a few months, he conceded. We had no other option. How long has it been? A few months? It was a wild idea. I think he set the timer for 100 years as a joke. We didn't think it would actually work for a long frame of time; we had done a couple short stints, just a few hours, maybe a day. I figured something would give out well before any date we set, so we picked exactly 100 years. Is it 2045? Howard said we'd have flying cars by then." She hadn't experienced these side effects during the shorter durations or else she'd have never agreed to it. She couldn't even see!

Tony watched her as she spoke. "The timer was set for 100 years, but we opened it early. It's been 72 years. I didn't know he experimented this much.  Seems kinda ironic given what was going on in Europe at the time." Tony said. "What's your name? He didn't have it written down."

People didn't achieve anything in science without taking risks, she thought. “It's Grace. Well. Mary is actually my first name. Last name is Bell. Maybe.” She didn't sound completely sure of that. Was it something different? She worried her bottom lip thinking about that. She should know her own damn name. This was certainly a development. 

Tony raised an eyebrow “You sure about the name? Want to change it?”

Grace shook her head. “No, it sounds familiar enough.”

“No need to ask where you're from. What's your address? What's your date of birth?

"115C Amity St,” Grace answered. At least she remembered her address. She faltered on her birthday however. March? January? Why did her birthday escape her if her address didn't.  "I don't know my birthday right now. So if it's been 72 years..." she trailed off.

"It's 2017. April 18. Tax day." Stark said. He was looking at something glowing in his hand. Grace couldn't make out what was in his hand, she just saw the glow. 

"Tax day is in March," she murmured, more to herself. Was it really the year he said? Were there flying cars? 

Grace couldn't see it, but Stark's brows were furrowed at the information she gave him. He repeated the address she gave him. "That's correct, right?" She nodded. 

He sighed. "Did you know a man named Steve Rogers?" 

She hadn't really thought of him in some time. "Kind of. He ran around with my friend's brother. He joined the Army and we lost touch. I saw him on some posters." She paused because she didn't know what happened after that. She felt like she should have known more about him. He lived just a few blocks away when she was growing up.

He nodded. "I have to go. You stay here doing ... whatever," Tony said. "I'll come back and see if we can get any more information." 

Grace nodded. She thought it was odd he asked about Steve. He had been doing something for the army last she knew.

After Tony left and the nurses and doctors were done with their poking and prodding, Grace was left with her thoughts. 2017. She’d be ... old. She couldn't recall her birth year but she knew she probably wouldn't be alive. She thought about people she knew. Howard. Gone. He had been about her age. She thought about her friends: Rebecca, Louise, Helen... there was one more but her name wouldn't come to Grace. They'd all be gone. That broke her heart. They were the sweetest girls. She’d miss Howard; he was someone she saw nearly daily, even if he was a bit pompous. But her girls; oh, she wanted to experience what the world had to offer with them - being in each other's weddings, seeing them have children. She missed it all for an experiment. What had she been thinking?

Grace was also curious why she was drawing blanks in her memory? She hadn’t predicted this. Why did she hesitate giving her last name; why did it feel so different? Why didn't she know her birthdate? She felt confident it was in March. Yeah. March sounded right. But was it? She tried to recall some more things. She didn't remember her mother's name. She hadn’t really known her father. He died when she was young from the Spanish flu. She didn't know if she had any siblings. She did remember a place that sold amazing milkshakes. She remembered a few neighbors’ names. She still didn't remember her birthday. Grace was glad to be alone, she didn't want to share why she was crying. Maybe people would understand but she didn't want to share this yet. 

---

Tony came back the next day, this time he brought along a friend. "Good afternoon. Have a good night?" Stark asked, taking a seat in a chair near Grace's head. 

"Had some things done. Interesting machinery. MRI. A CT scan. They wanted to make sure things were still okay. Said everything looked unremarkable. Bloodwork even came back fine. I wouldn't mind finding a library to look into MRIs more…”

"How's the vision?"

She shrugged. "Better now. I can see clearly within a foot but beyond that it’s still hazy. I can see colors now instead of just darkness and light. Did Roosevelt finally end his presidency?" He had been president nearly your entire life.

Tony's hand glowed again. "He died in April of 1945.” That caused her to get quiet for a few seconds. She filed that away under more information she should have known and tried not to take it personally. “I brought a guest with me, I'm sure you saw a second person with me,” Tony said, moving on with the conversation. 

Grace nodded. All she could tell about the person with Tony was that they were tall. It still bothered her that she didn't recall the president dying. That's definitely something she would have remembered. She didn't even remember who succeeded him.

"I'd like to reintroduce you to Steve Rogers," Tony said, gesturing for him to come closer.

"That's impossible. He'd have to be dead," Grace said glaring at Tony. She didn't think he'd be a jerk like that. "If you're going to make fun of me, you can leave."

“Hi, sugar, are you rationed?” a deep voice said to Grace, who furrowed her eyebrows. The voice was familiar but again, different. 

“That's not Steve..” she tried to recall the last time she had spoken to him. “You sound…not like you.”

Steve cleared his throat and had to put himself in the right frame of mind. “What do you mean I don't sound like me? I sound just fine.” Tony stood off to the side almost bewildered by the sudden switch. He couldn't recall hearing such thick accents out in the city. Not like this.

Grace let out a laugh. “That's it! That's the Steve I remember,” if only in bits and pieces. "You're taller than I remember," she finally said.

"You just have a bad memory, I've always been taller than you," he teased. "Do you remember the last time we saw each other?"

Grace shook her head. "A Sunday dinner at Rebecca's?" 

Steve shook his head this time although she barely saw it. "It was the night before Bucky Barnes shipped out. We all went to Coney Island," he said quietly. 

"I don't know why I'd go with you guys there," she said, trying to recall the time. Bucky's name made her feel off. It felt like a sneeze was coming. She couldn't quite describe it; it just felt weird. Bucky was in and out of her life. She wasn't really close to him but saw him enough when visiting with Rebecca. He was just Becca's brother. It was honestly the same with Steve; she knew him but wasn't very close. He seemed to think that relationship was something deeper. "Are you sure that was me?"

Steve bit his lower lip but didn't say anything immediately. "I thought it was you, maybe I'm mistaken," he said, sparing Tony a glance. "Tony told me you worked with Howard Stark, can you tell me something about that?" Steve asked, moving away to pull a chair over. 

Grace spent the next 45 minutes telling both men about the various projects she worked on with Howard. They took turns asking questions about life in general. Some things she could answer; some she couldn't. Steve asked if she remembered reading anything about him in the newspaper recently. She didn't. "I'm sorry, maybe I missed the paper that day," she had a feeling if it was important it would have been in several editions but nothing stood out in her mind. Then again she didn't know about the president and that was very important.

It was early evening before they left with both saying they'd come back again soon. She’d learn ‘soon’ was relative. It would be a week before she saw them again. 

Steve bringing up Bucky bothered Grace. She didn't know why. Maybe he was missing his friend and seeing her reminded him of that fact. Bothered was the wrong word. She wasn't bothered by it but the actual term wouldn't come to her mind. That frustrated her more than talk of Bucky did. She hoped her mind would clear up soon.

---

A week later and Grace's vision had improved tremendously; it was nearly back to normal with the exception of long distance, anything beyond 100 yards or so was pretty empty, but the doctors reassured her that it would come back. She had full range of motion in her joints, but her legs had been weak; she spent several hours each day in physical therapy to try and get back to normal there. Overall, she'd consider that experiment a success. Tony explained it would be a one way trip. They wouldn't be able to send her back to her time. That stung a bit but that was something she had considered. She had just hoped she’d be wrong. 2017 wasn't shaping up to be a fun year. No flying cars and no time travel. What did it have?

Steve came to escort Grace out of the hospital, or what she considered a hospital. Apparently Tony owned the building and this was just a medical facility that went with it. Steve explained briefly about his and Tony's roles with the Avengers. 

Grace interrupted his explanation. “You do what?”

Steve sighed softly. “I know. It sounds strange”

“You're a cop. That sounds so accurate for you.”

“I'm not a cop. It's bigger than city stuff. It's…crime but on a different level. There's… beings outside of Earth,” he went on to badly explain several things. 

“Who are you, H.P. Lovecraft?” Grace asked, side-eyeing the man. This was something she just didn't get about this year. You couldn't have flying cars but you could have - from what Steve had tried to explain - a Norse god leading aliens to invade Earth. 

Steve sighed again. “I know, I've been where you're at. I even lost money on it. It sounds so strange, but you'll see. Maybe you have to see to believe.”

“Maybe. But why?”

“Why what?” Steve questioned back. 

“Why would these other civilizations start attacking Earth? Why weren't they when we were kids? Why now? What did Earth do?”

Steve was at a loss. “Didn't do anything. It just happened. It does happen.”

She shook her head. “Maybe things do just happen but this doesn't seem like it would just happen. How is there technology to fight these beings but yet no one has a flying car?”

Steve looked at you funny. “What?”

“How can you fight these beings from other civilizations with apparently the capability to come to Earth and the Earth has no flying car? I saw where different countries have gone to the moon. And no one has a flying car?”

Steve chose that moment to ignore her and went on and mentioned others that worked with him and the Avengers. He explained all the different areas they had help in. 

He guided her through the building and led her to an apartment several floors above where they had started. All she currently had was a small bag of belongings. A nurse had asked her clothing size and let her borrow some of her own clothes when she came back on shift the next day. Grace didn't know when she’d be able to return them or when she'd be able to buy her own. The nurse had been kind enough to bring her a notebook as well, which she had been using for the sake of her memory and details of her recovery. The first couple pages were filled with horrible handwriting and lots of thoughts ranging from why did the experiment work to how does a microwave know it's popcorn?

"This is yours for now," Steve said, "compliments of Tony. Several of us live here on different floors. I'll introduce you to them when I can. Do you remember the old Grand Central Station?"

"Mm-hmm, why?"

"This building is where part of it was. The Chrysler Building is nearby as well," he said, hoping anything jogged her memory. 

She really didn't come into this part of New York a lot. She stayed in Brooklyn mostly. The landmarks did help her get her bearings. "It's good to know some things don't change," Grace told him, looking around the furnished apartment. It was a nice place. 

Steve opted to sit on the couch, his arm along the back of it, running his fingers along a seam. "What do you remember about Bucky?" he asked, focusing on the seam instead of Grace wandering about. 

"Not much, honestly. He hung out with you, he always had book recommendations for me," she said, sitting in a swiveling armchair. She was wondering why he brought up Bucky again. A strange feeling at the back of your head came around hearing the name. A thought crossed her mind about a baseball game but she didn't know why or how it applied to Bucky or even herself. 

"You know he got married before the war?" he asked. 

Grace wrung her hands at this news. “Good for him.” She didn't know why this news seemed to make her feel unsettled. Did she once have a thing for him? They did grow up together. It wasn't uncommon. “Did he have children, too?”

Steve shook his head. "No. Just a wife. He got drafted after Pearl Harbor."

She remembered Pearl Harbor. She had been absolutely terrified. Everyone was. There was so much unknown at the time. "Yeah, a lot of men did. You said we went to Coney Island on his last night stateside. Why would he go there instead of spending time with his family? Was his wife there?"

Steve just shrugged. "It was what he wanted to do. Yeah, his wife was there. I think we all wanted a good time. Do you recall his wife being there?"

Grace frowned as she tried to recall that experience. She had a brief thought of walking between two of the game tents, but she didn't know why or even if someone was with her. She didn't even know if it was that night. It could have been a carnival. She didn't remember another woman in her group of friends either. Maybe his wife was the other friend whose name Grace couldn't recall.

Steve changed the subject, seeing the varying expressions crossing her face and slowly explained Bucky's past; being a prisoner of war, being rescued, then the fall from the train and his time with Hydra. She was absolutely horrified. "He survived all that?" she asked. 

"He did; he's a survivor. But he's not without his scars. He's been spending time over in Wakanda. They've been working on a way to erase some of Hydra's ways of manipulating him, or the words they use to control him."

Grace couldn't believe everything he had gone through. That poor man. Her heart hurt hearing everything he went through. She didn't know why she had such a surge of emotion that she tried to hide. And his wife had thought he had died. Grace supposed that was better than knowing the truth.

Steve took a deep breath, “I'm bringing this up again for a couple reasons. The first is that at some point, Bucky will be coming back to New York to live. The second is that you were married to him. You didn't call him Bucky back then. You called him James.”

Grace froze. Her mind started going a million miles an hour as she tried to process what Steve told her. Why didn't she remember that? “I was married to him? Are you sure? Why don't I remember that?” The last question wasn't asked to get an answer. She knew Steve wouldn't know. The name James strummed something in her brain. It sounded warm. It sounded safe.

Steve nodded, “you guys got married in the summer of 1940. He came to my house and said ‘we’re getting married in two weeks. Be there.’ so I was there. You guys just knew you were it for each other.”

Grace didn't know what to do with this information. She had a million questions and couldn't figure out the words to ask. “Does he know?”

Steve shook his head. “No. I haven't figured out how to tell him yet. He's trying to come to terms with himself. I didn't want to add to his headache. No offense.”

Grace shrugged at his comment. She understood. It felt like an immense weight to know right now.

---

Steve's 'at some point' came a year later. It felt like both the fastest and slowest year of Grace’s life. She became meticulous in documenting her journey so far. Some of the gaps in her memory filled, but not many. Most of the memories that came back were small ones: childhood memories of Christmases and summer;  the neighbor's cat who was always perched by her door; her favorite ice cream flavor and the place that sold the best ice cream. She could tell someone what trains to take if they were going from Brooklyn to Midtown Manhattan, but the trains weren't the same anymore; at least they had different names now. 

There were things Grace missed from her time. The food tasted better then; maybe it was homesickness but she swore it was better. Bananas were definitely different and she missed the ones from her day. She missed the movies from her time also. Yeah the quality was better now but the movies back then felt easier to follow and didn't jump around so much. Maybe that was just her brain not adjusting properly. Grace also missed the noise. She had never known the city to be a quiet place but now it was just infinitely noisier. Maybe that was her brain again still suffering from being frozen for so long. She had a memory of sitting on the rooftop of an apartment building in Brooklyn. She could hear the quiet rumble of the city below her. The entire memory felt like a blanket. It was warm and comforting. 

There were benefits to being in such a modern age. The internet was a huge benefit. Upon learning how to maneuver it, Grace looked up the obituaries of people she knew, because that was a healthy pastime. It did provide her with the closure she needed. She didn't find everyone, but she found some. Some lived long full lives, and some were snuffed out young. Grace cried for all of them. She didn't find Rebecca. That hurt in and of itself. She wanted to know what happened to her. In addition to online obituaries, she found the internet had the most interesting collection of adult images. It was the type of stuff that would have killed Grace's nosy neighbor who thought it was scandalous when she kissed her boyfriend in front of her apartment. Grace didn't tell Steve about discovering those images. She thought it might kill him. 

Besides the internet, there were other perks. Credit and debit cards made things simpler. She often still confused the two but she was getting the hang of it. All the freedom women had surprised her. Women could open a bank account in their own name! Birth control was commonplace; at least more effective birth control than what Grace had in her time. Women's roles in society had improved immensely, working women were common, they didn't have to be a housewife. 

Fashion had changed to some degree. In Grace's own time, she stuck with dresses and skirts because that was comfortable for daily wear. She had seen women's trousers in magazines and some of her friends wore them where they worked. At the time, it just wasn't for her. Although she did own pajamas that were a pants and top combo. Another memory had crossed her mind of a time wearing what seemed like a very long men's pajama shirt to bed. She supposed that had to have been something she took from Bucky but she didn't know for certain. But now, having lived in 2017 and now 2018, Grace had a pretty good assortment of dress slacks and jeans and leggings. Oh, leggings were the best thing ever. They were so comfortable. She could only imagine the newspaper articles they would have caused. "Too revealing!" She could hear people say. She still had dresses and skirts but didn't wear them too often. 

Bucky. James. Whatever name he wanted to go by. One year later and Grace still didn't know what to make of all that. Occasionally she had memories of him. There was one where he was attempting to make biscuits “just like his Ma did” and while they weren't bad, they weren't like his mother's. She felt apprehension as time passed and the moment for him to arrive drew nearer. 

Tony had given Grace what she considered a "pity job" initially because she  didn't know how she would benefit him as far as a career went. She was 70 years behind the times, but he gave her materials she would need to assist in varied projects and she took off; she learned so much and absolutely thrived. Working with Howard had been such a gift at the time, but this was unmeasurable. Some technology Grace grasped quicker than others. Cell phones were very neat and connected her to the world but sometimes they were too much and she turned hers off and left it in the basket by the front door.

She and Steve tried to have lunch once a week just to stay connected. It didn't always happen as Steve did Avenging. It was weird to think of him in that context and he couldn't say much about it due to classified information but Grace thought he enjoyed it. It was over lunch that he brought up Bucky; Steve was elated. "Bucky's coming back to New York! He'll be here next Saturday so we may have to skip lunch."

“Oh! Well that's great. How ...uh… I don't know how to word this. What should I do?” Grace asked. It was one thing to think of the hypothetical of conversations with Bucky but to actually see him seemed strange. He wouldn't be the man she once knew. 

Steve thought about it as he chewed and finally he spoke. “Realistically, there's a slim chance you'll see him. He'll live on a different floor and he'll be working with the team so it'll be an in and out thing. I guess if you do see him, be yourself. He'll essentially just be a new friend.” Steve honestly had no clue how to answer the question. Bucky knew who Steve was so it wasn't something he had burdened himself about. 

—

In the middle of the third week after Bucky's arrival, Grace still hadn't seen Steve but she figured he was busy. It happened. She had taken the day off and hoped her body would let her sleep longer than 5 in the morning. She got an extra 30 minutes and then she was wide awake. She sighed and threw back the blankets; if she couldn't sleep she wasn't going to stay in bed. She'd just proceed with her routine and get ready for the gym.

This was something that seemed so foreign to Grace. Nobody had exercised back in her time. If they did she wasn't really aware of it. She walked places a lot. There were sports but she didn't consider them exercising like what was in the gym. She did know the food was different here and knew that was a major factor; but also there were so many conveniences now that she didn't have. TV. Grace had wasted so many hours watching random shows. There was so much she had missed out on in regards to television. She didn't like shows that featured her time. They got so much wrong. Another thing to consider was transportation. People could get in a car to just go a few blocks away. All of these things caught up with her since she arrived and she had noticed she was putting on weight. Grace decided one day to try out the gym. She wasn't going to try to lose a ton of weight or to gain a lot of muscles. She  just wanted to be a bit active. That had been a few months ago. Her routine paled in comparison to some of the agents she had met, but it worked for her. 

Since her schedule was off today, the people at the gym were some she knew and talked to before and some she recognized in passing. Some Grace had no idea who they were; there weren't many people there overall. There was one man lifting weights who caught her attention. She kept catching herself looking towards him and she tried to zone out in other directions as she walked

"If you keep looking, you're going to start drooling," a woman's voice said from Grace's side. She looked over and saw a friend from her office, Hannah, watching her watch the man; she hadn't even seen her arrive. 

Grace's face turned red from being caught. "I'm sorry, I just..." she stammered trying to find the right words.

Her friend waved her off. "Girl, please. He is gorgeous. You're not wrong to look," she said. "I think everyone appreciates it when he comes in. You could try and talk to him."

She absolutely could not. "I don't know his name," she said as a very lame excuse.

Hannah rolled her eyes. “Yes because not knowing someone's name has stopped people from doing things with them.”

She grinned sheepishly, glancing back over to where he was. He happened to look up and caught her looking. Upon meeting his eyes, her vision clouded with tears suddenly; she knew who he was, that was Bucky. Grace lost her footing and stumbled, feeling very, very stupid. She tried to wipe away the tears before they fell. 

"Are you okay? Your face lost all color, I thought you were going to pass out," Hannah said, having slowed on her machine.

Grace didn't realize she had had such a physical reaction to being seen. "I gotta go," she said, pointedly not looking in Bucky's direction nor looking at Hannah.

Hannah agreed. "Yeah, that might be a good idea. Text me later."

Grace was almost home-free when right as the doors of the gym were closing behind her, they opened up again and a deep voice spoke. "Uh, excuse me." No, she didn't want to stop. She didn't want to turn around. Grace did not want to talk to whoever the voice belonged. But she did anyway.

"Yes?" She answered, voice thick with emotion. She felt like she had a knot in her throat. She looked over her shoulder as she stepped out of the walkway. 

This wasn't the introduction she wanted to have with him. She wanted something nicer, something formal, not post workout after she made a fool of herself. He had caught her looking at him and he was well within his right to call her out for being an absolute creep, even if she did make an ass of herself right after. And holy fuck he was much bigger up close and Grace felt her heart in her throat. He had absolutely no right to look that good after working out and she hadn't noticed that he wore his long hair pulled back. Oh this was bad. Grace knew this was Bucky, his eyes were unforgettable.

Bucky seemed just as nervous as she was. "Are you okay?” 

She didn't expect to hear concern, she quickly wiped her eyes again. "Um, yeah. I just lost my footing." She decided not to tell him it was because she was staring at him. She couldn't meet his eyes as she spoke. It was too much. He may interpret that as being rude or guilty but so be it. How could she explain what she was feeling when she didn't know what he knew? 

Bucky nodded. "You probably shouldn't stare at people while exercising then."

She felt her face go red again. He had a point but he didn't need to point it out. "Yeah, I'm sorry. You… you reminded me of someone I knew," she said, grimacing at the lie. Maybe it wasn't a lie. He reminded her of himself from 70 years ago.  

"You know a lot of guys with metal arms?"

"No... I wasn't looking at your arm." She really had only noticed the arm when he got closer. She was going to continue but opted to just keep her mouth shut for just 5 minutes. She couldn't tell if he was actually aggravated with her or not. He was sarcastic now but she wasn't sure if it was his personality or if he did that when angry. He seemed to be waiting for her to continue. "I noticed your eyes. I know it's dumb and I know that was pretty far away but the eye color reminded me of…a friend from a long time ago. It made me miss him. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare.”

Bucky seemed to be mulling things over before he spoke again. “What's your name?”

Grace spared him a glance, “it's Grace.”

He murmured the name a few times while looking at the floor, trying to figure out how he knew the name. “You're… oh. It's you. Steve's mentioned you before. You're out of place too.”

She gave a small nod. “Yeah. That's me. Sorry to interrupt your workout. Maybe we can talk more at another time.”

Bucky nodded, “yeah, that'll be good. Alright. See you later,” he said and headed back into the gym. 

Grace let out a breath in relief. Thankfully it hadn't been worse. 

—

A few weeks had passed since that awkward encounter. Grace was torn over the situation. She still felt embarrassment over her behavior. She couldn't identify how she felt with the brief conversation she had with Bucky. Her mind and body didn't respond how she thought it might. She had hoped seeing him and hearing his voice would bring back memories but nothing had occurred. She almost had no feeling towards him. He was a stranger now. 

Bucky was in a similar situation. Before he came back from Wakanda, Steve had told him about Grace and showed him a picture. He had been afraid she would be ready to start up where they left off and he wasn't able to do that right now. From his perspective, it seemed she was hesitant to see him as well, even if she nearly fell off a treadmill. 

Steve had been a middle man since then. He had given them the other’s phone number so they could at least text. They hadn't. Both were trying to work through their own things before they talked. 

Bucky finally initiated things on a Saturday morning. He sent a text. “Hey would you want to talk soon”

The message surprised Grace. “Sure, when would you like?”

“Are you free this afternoon at 2”

“Yes. Where?”

Bucky gave her a location, a small lounge on one of the upper floors of the tower. He figured they'd have privacy but it wouldn't be as intimate as meeting in one of their homes. He wanted to keep things as neutral as they could. 

Bucky and Grace sat across from each other in tub chairs  feeling a bit awkward. Pleasantries had been exchanged and neither one knew how to broach the topic of them. 

Finally Grace spoke. “What name would you like me to call you? I know you go by Bucky now but Steve said I called you James then. What would be more comfortable for you?”

Bucky had a moment where his brain buffered. No one had really stopped to ask him that. Steve had automatically called him Bucky because that's what Steve and other kids at school had always called him; his family had called him James or Jim. There were two other James in the neighborhood growing up and several at school. Since Steve called him Bucky, everyone else just picked it up. “I guess James is fine,” he said quietly. “What about you? Steve kept saying Grace so I guess that's good for you?”

She nodded. “Unfortunately, I got the first name of Mary. So I've gone by Grace.” She paused and opted not to share a thought she had had. Perhaps later. 

“So do you have any memory of when you were younger?”

Bucky gave a small shrug. “Not from when I was a young kid or anything. I have a few memories from when I was a teenager. Being with friends. Dates. That kind of thing. What about you?”

“It's hit and miss. I recall a few things from when I was really young and then I remember when my mom got married and we moved to a different house. Like you, I remember a few dates but names have been harder to recall. And actual calendar dates…”

Bucky rubbed his hands on his knees, wondering if he should jump in with a bold question already. “What do you recall of us? I'll be honest, I don't have much, if anything.”

“There's a memory I have that I guess is from before we were together. There was a group of us at a park and you come alongside me and hold my hand for a few seconds without anyone noticing before going elsewhere. That one I know was you. I have some memories that I'm not sure who I'm with.”

Bucky listened, hoping to hear something he remembered. 

“Another memory I have, and it's not much, is a baseball game we went to. I couldn't tell you when it was or anything. I don't know who the Dodgers played. It was just you and me. I'm not being much help, I know.”

“You can only do so much with what you have,” Bucky told her. He thought he might remember a baseball game but he wasn't sure.

“I can recall an argument. My best guess is we were newly dating. I was meeting you at the movies and when I got there I saw Virginia Smith talking with you and flirting with you. I don't even know if I thought you were flirting back but I left and we ended up arguing on the street about it.”

Bucky winced. That sounded like something he would have done. She was probably right to get mad at him. “I'd apologize but I'm sure I did a hundred times back then,” he said with a grin. 

Grace shrugged, “I'm honestly hoping that as time progresses I'll remember more.” She had more memories but they'd be awkward to bring up currently. “One of the last ones I'll share is I remember when you had to leave for the war. You promised you'd come home but I figured it was like your promise to not eat all the popcorn when we went to the movies.”

While it was a sad memory, Bucky had to chuckle at the popcorn statement. He did remember saying that a lot. He'd at least be a gentleman and get more. “I wish my memories were like yours, where there's some context, but it's more like little blips here and there. Like I remember a baseball game but not who I was with. Or, you and I are walking somewhere, but I don't know where it is. It's just quick flashes.”

Grace nodded, “well maybe like me, you'll gain some as time goes on. Who knows. Would you be interested in going to Brooklyn? I know sometimes that can help bring back memories. If you're not interested, that's okay.”

“No, that's something we can do. I'm not sure when but I wouldn't mind that.” At least that's what Bucky thought now. He knew Brooklyn would have changed. At this present moment he was okay with that. 

For the rest of the conversation, they talked about themselves now. They discussed adapting to modern times which Bucky was a bit better with since he had cycles of going into the world over the years. Granted he couldn't enjoy anything during those times but he was more aware.

—

Being friends with Bucky was nice Grace thought, at least she supposed they were friends. They texted each other periodically. They hung out once with Steve. It was nice. It felt natural. 

It was 6 weeks after their talk about memories that they were able to go into Brooklyn. Grace was able to do some digging and found maps of old Brooklyn to compare to modern times. She doubted they would need them but carried them anyway. 

Once they were on the street in Brooklyn, Grace was very thankful for the old maps. She didn't think Brooklyn would have changed that much! But, oh, it had. 

Bucky was looking at one map while Grace had another. “Okay so the middle of that intersection is where Thompson's grocery was,” she said, “and not that you care to know but that's where I had my first kiss. Not the most romantic but hey, I was 14.”

Bucky chuckled and glanced over to her. “Who with?” 

“Peter Phillips.”

Bucky shot her a double take. “How did you even go out with him? He never talked to anyone.”

Grace shrugged, “he talked to me just fine. He was a little shy but that's it. He was really sweet.”

“My first kiss was with Alice Jones. I think I was about 13. We were at the movie theater.”

“Very few people actually watched movies there, it feels like. Nowadays there's cameras everywhere.”

“Learn from experience or something?”

Grace turned bright red. “No! Last movie theater experience I had was probably…” she paused and realized it was probably with Bucky. “I haven't been to the movies in a long time.”

Bucky pulled out his phone to look something up. “Hey. Spumoni Gardens is still open. Want to check it out?” 

Grace looked surprised, “wow, yeah. I mean, we're kinda far from it.”

“We were far from it then, too. But now we have Uber.”

She rolled her eyes. “You're really embracing this new technology aren't you?”

The restaurant caused mixed feelings for both Bucky and Grace. It was odd to see such an old but familiar place in today's world. The food was still incredible, at least to them lost in nostalgia. The faces were all different of course. They realized that they probably had known the current owner's grandparents. 

“Want me to take your picture and send it to Steve?” Grace asked. 

That caused Bucky to roll his eyes. “No, I'm good. I'm sure he's been here since he's been back.”

“Just thought I'd try.”

The pair made their way back up to their old stomping grounds to wander around more. Grace's old house had been demolished and the lot turned into a medical building. Bucky's old family home was still standing. The place where they had lived after they got married was also still there. It was amazing what was left and what was removed. 

“Kind of weird to think the old movie theater is now a Chipotle,” Bucky said, shaking his head. 

“And the place with the best milkshakes is now Starbucks.”

“You thought that place had the best milkshakes?” Bucky asked with a bit of indignation.

“I'm sorry you didn't have good taste.”

“You were one of my choices, remember.”

Grace winced. “Ouch, I walked into that one.”

“Speaking of…do you know where we had our first date?”

Grace stopped to think. “I'm not sure if ice cream and walking some of the piers was our first date or not, but I do remember that.”

“What do you remember about that?” It didn't seem very memorable to Bucky. 

She blushed, “I kissed you on one of the benches after we walked forever,” she murmured. 

Bucky got a grin on his face. How had he forgotten that? “You kissed me first? That doesn't sound right.”

“You wouldn't stop talking. I don't know if it was nerves or what it was. But I took the opportunity when I had it. You didn't talk much after that.”

Bucky blushed after her admission. He had hoped he had been suave. He wished his memory could kick in for that one. Maybe he'd remember it differently. 

Before too long, it was time to head back to the Tower. They sat in a comfortable silence on the train home, and made light conversation from the station to the Tower. 

“Thanks for coming along,” Grace said.

“It was nice. So very, very different than the streets I remember running down but it was nice. That was a good idea,” he said. “Maybe we can do that again sometime. Maybe go to Prospect Park.”

Grace nodded, “I’d like that. Goodnight James.”

—

 Bucky knocked on Grace's door one evening a couple months later. He had texted her earlier in the day asking to come over that evening. Their relationship was much the same as it had been. They were good friends and both were okay with that. 

Grace opened the door and met him with a big smile. “Hi, come in. Can I get you anything?” 

He shook his head and stepped in, heading for her couch, an envelope in hand. “I got fanmail.”

Grace looked at him weird. “Excuse me?”

He gave a shrug. He didn't normally get mail. Captain America got fanmail. Bucky just…existed. He was okay with that. “I got a letter today,” he said and handed her the envelope. It would be easier to just have her read it. 

She took the envelope and unfolded the letter inside. “Dear Mr. Barnes, my name is Carolyn and I'm writing because I believe you are my uncle. My mother's brother. Her name was Rebecca and she talked of her brother who died in the war, at least to her knowledge. Before you think I'm some crazy woman writing, I've enclosed a photo of her and her brother. Mother died several years ago but had some belongings she said that her sister-in-law left her before her sister-in-law disappeared (Mother never went into detail about this so I don't know what happened).

I read about what had happened to you and your association with Captain America and I believe you to be her brother. If you are him, Mother would have been so elated to know you're alive. She talked often about you, but she referred to you as Jim. 

If you would like to reach out, here is my telephone number or you can write back if you like. 

Thank you, Carolyn.” 

Grace looked back to Bucky with an astounded look. “Is she for real?” 

Bucky gestured to the envelope where the picture remained. There was no date on it, but Bucky was young, late teens or early 20s. The woman next to him was undoubtedly Rebecca. Grace hadn't seen her friend's face in so long. She sat with a thump on the couch. “James…that's…”

Bucky nodded. “I know,” his voice was broken like he was trying to keep his emotions in check. “If this person is trying to pull a fast one, they're good.”

She looked over at him. “What are you going to do?” 

“I don't know. It's why I came here. I don't know what to do. Do you recall anything about leaving things behind?”

Grace put her face in her hands to help her think. Did she? “I don't know. But it makes sense if I did. I didn't know if Howard's experiment would work. If it did I'd want someone to have important items and I wouldn't have left it to anyone except her.”

James nodded. “Should I call her? Would you want anything she might have?”

“Depends what it is. I mean, if it's a 72 year old electric bill, not really,” she said trying to liven the moment. “Realistically, she probably has our marriage license. Maybe letters that you wrote me. I would like those back, honestly. It was a part of who I was.”

He nodded again. “Alright. If I meet her, will you come along?”

Grace was a bit shocked to hear him ask that. “If you'd like me to, I would. I'm curious to know if Carolyn looks like Becca. I wonder how old Carolyn is.”

“Do you think she'll be scared of me?”

“James, she wrote to you. She's apparently looked into things about you but she's also heard a lot of things about you from Becca. If she wasn't comfortable talking to you  she wouldn't have written to you. You're just her old Uncle Jim.”

Bucky shook his head. “Never call me that again.”

—

Bucky had called the number the next date and a time was arranged to meet two weeks later. The visit went wonderfully and Grace thought Bucky would cry meeting his niece but he remained his stoic self. Carolyn cried as she hugged him, something that caught him off guard. 

Carolyn indeed looked like Becca. She was in her early 60s. She was married and had three children. She told them that Becca had died at 90 after living a full life. It wasn't always happy but Becca was satisfied with it.  

They visited for two hours and when it was time to part ways, Grace and Bucky were grateful they had driven a larger vehicle as Carolyn had a medium sized locked trunk in the back of her vehicle. She explained she didn't know what was in it, that it had been locked for years and Becca didn't feel right unlocking it. Had Bucky not been alive Carolyn said she and her husband would have broken the lock. 

Carolyn left them both with a hug, grateful that she had more family. Both parents and her brother were gone. She told them both they were coming to the upcoming holiday gatherings. Grace made a comment that she was bossy like Becca was, too. 

Back at Bucky's apartment, the trunk sat on the floor in front of the couch, the pair staring at it. “What do we do now?” Grace asked him. 

“You packed it. You choose,” he said. 

“But your sister and your niece had it.”

“Technically she's our niece since we were married.”

“Do you want to open it, James?”

“Yeah.”

“Then break the lock. Just try not to hurt the trunk. I like it,” Grace said to him. 

Bucky nodded and moved to the edge of the seat. “Are we sure? We don't know what's in there.”

“I didn't put a bomb in there, James. We're in there. I can't imagine I would put things in there that didn't have to do with us.”

He nodded, “you sure you're ready? We can wait. It's waited 73 years, it can wait longer.”

“Would you be able to sleep knowing we didn't open it?”

“I don't sleep anyways.”

Grace sighed. “Please open it.”

Bucky grasped the lock with his right hand and with his left hand, he twisted the lower portion until it snapped, leaving the lock in two pieces with the trunk intact. It would have been easier ripping off the lock. 

He tossed the broken lock on the side table before looking to Grace. “Your turn. You open it.”

She hesitated but scooted to the edge to her seat before flipping up the latch of the trunk and then opening the lid. The smell of old paper wafted out. Sitting on top of everything was an envelope with Becca's handwriting “Open First”. 

“You read it,” Grace said, nudging him. 

“Alright,” he said and reached for the envelope, gingerly opening it. “To whom it concerns, I'm not sure who is reading this, perhaps it's my own future children. Maybe it's me. Maybe it's Grace. Either way, I want to talk about the contents of this trunk. 

These items belonged to my brother James and his wife, my best friend, Grace. It's April 18, 1945. Grace's birthday was just a few days ago. She's not here now, I guess. I don't know how to describe it. She might physically be here still. I just don't know. 

We got word back in January that we lost James in the war. Grace didn't take the loss well. She's tried to hide it but it's there, I can see it. She's poured herself into working with Howard even more. She's been working with him since James left but it's worse now. They've been working on some harebrained scheme that freezes people but keeps them alive. They think it'll change the world. They say that they could freeze people who are ill and bring them back when there's a cure. Grace volunteered for a long term experiment. I begged them both not to go through with it. Grace wouldn't hear me out. Howard tried to reason with her but eventually he gave up. She misses James. She sees this as her out. 

Anyways, these items were theirs. I haven't touched them. How Grace put them in is how they'll stay. Maybe the experiment will fail and she'll be back tomorrow. I don't know. 

If this is Grace, I guess well done on the experiment. If this isn't her, please be gentle with their items. 

I loved them both very much.

Becca”

Grace wiped her eyes as Bucky read. She didn't recall those feelings. She felt grateful for that. She didn't realize just how depressed she had become. Of course, back then, everyone lost someone and she was just another widow. 

Bucky blinked several times, trying to ignore what he was feeling. “I can't believe you did the experiment out of reckless behavior.” He almost felt less guilty about Howard's death. 

Grace sniffed and shrugged, “to be fair, I didn't realize I did it out of reckless behavior either. Maybe that's why I didn't remember that the president died.”

She would work through the emotions of that letter at a later time, when she was by herself. She was certain Bucky might too. 

“Ready to go further?” He asked, refolding the letter and putting it back in the envelope. 

Grace nodded and reached in to pull out a photo album. She handed it to Bucky and sat back on the couch, ready to look through it. 

Bucky sat back on the couch, moving closer to her. He wasn't sure he was ready for such a trip down memory lane. He opened the cover and there the two of them stood side by side in a picture. ‘James and Grace' wrote above it. ‘June 22, 1940’ wrote below it. 

“I guess that's our wedding day,” Bucky murmured. Grace's wedding dress looked more like an everyday dress than what someone would consider a wedding dress. The scoop neck dress had sleeves to the elbows and ended at her knees. It looked like something she could have already had in her closet. 

Grace nodded, “I wish I could recall anything about it. You looked really handsome though.” He was dressed in a simple solid, white button up shirt and dark trousers. They looked to be standing in someone's backyard. “Where was that?”

Bucky studied the picture more. “I think that's my parent’s backyard.”

There weren't many pictures of the wedding. There was one photo with her parents and his. “Wow, you really look like your dad.”

“Everyone always told me that too. Personally I thought I looked better than he did.”

Grace rolled her eyes, “I'm so glad you've remained humble all these years.”

They went photo by photo, page by page making comments. Some photos helped solidify memories. “That wasn't our cat,” Grace said. “That was our neighbor's cat. The cat hung by our door hoping to get extra meals.” And sometimes it did. 

By the time they exhausted the album, they were exhausted mentally and emotionally. That was just the first album in the box. Not to mention what else they had in there. 

Bucky rubbed his eyes, “I don't know I can do another one tonight.”

Grace nodded. “Me too,” she said and plucked a small hinged box from the trunk. “Oh,” she murmured upon opening it. There sat their wedding bands. Bucky had left his behind when he got sent to Europe. He had been afraid he'd lose it. Grace had removed hers before the freeze. “What do we do with these?”

Bucky took the box from her to look at them. “Want me to keep them safe?”

Grace shrugged. “Do you still want yours?”

“I'm not going to just throw it away.”

“Well, keep them safe then.”

He nodded and set the box on the side table as well. He'd keep the rings until they figured out what they were doing with their lives. “Hey, what are these small books?” He asked, pulling one out. 

Grace's eyes flew open. “Nope,” she said and took the book from him. “You can't read these. These are my journals and I don't know what I said in them.”

Bucky got a mischievous grin on his face. “Did you write about me then?”

“James. Don't touch them. I don't know what I wrote about anyone. I could have written about Peter Phillips and his kissing skills.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “You've got like a hundred in here!” 

“Stop exaggerating. I'm taking these with me. I'm not sure how yet but they'll leave with me tonight.”

“Surely I can read one or two…”

“Not yet. I'll go through them first and then let you read some of them.” Grace had journaled for years and she really didn't know what years she had in the trunk. She didn't journal every single day but it was frequent. She realized these journals would probably answer a lot of questions. 

Bucky grabbed one of the little journals, peeking inside for a date. “This one is September 1939. Steve said we started dating around then.”

“James!” Grace scolded, trying to get the little book, but Bucky held it out of reach in his left hand. 

“‘September 16, 1939 James and I had our second date last night. It wasn't like our first date. We ended up walking the piers for what felt like minutes and hours at the same time,’” Bucky read, while Grace tried to reach for the book again. She was picking a losing battle with a super soldier. “When we finally sat down, he was talking about the World's Fair and all the exhibits. He hasn't been able to go but wants to. He talked and talked about all the futuristic gadgets they'll have. I got bored listening to him go on and on’,” Bucky paused in his reading, “that's rude,” he said to Grace who gave up on her struggle.

She sat back on the couch, absolutely mortified about what younger her would write. 

Bucky continued reading, “‘I got bored listening to him go on and on so when he stopped to breathe I said his name. He looked at me and I kissed him. We were sitting awfully close on the bench so it wasn't a tremendous effort. Wouldn't you know it, he didn't say another word about the World's Fair after. We kissed several times and I'm really glad he's not a sloppy kisser like Craig was’.” Bucky stopped his reading. “Who's Craig?”

Grace shrugged. “No clue. I guess an old boyfriend. You're asking someone with a bad memory.”

He picked back up reading. “‘I don't know if I could say he's a better kisser than Harold’.” Another pause. “Well now I have to know when Harold was and why you thought he was a better kisser.”

Grace groaned. “He couldn't have been that good of a kisser if he and I broke up and I ultimately married you.”

Bucky nodded. “True. Maybe I got better at kissing. Anyways, continuing. ‘After kissing for a while, he walked me home, holding my hand the entire time. The girls all say I need to be careful. James has a bad reputation for seeing two girls at once’.” Once more, Bucky paused for a “Rude.”

“Maybe you shouldn't have done that.”

He read again. “‘I really hope he no longer does that because I really like him. I don't know if I can say we're going steady. Two dates with another guy might mean that but I don't know with him. We haven't really told anyone but I did tell my closest girlfriends. Becca knows and says I can't discuss my dates with her anymore because there are things she doesn't want to know about her brother. I won't tell her her brother has a nice behind then’.” James looked over to Grace, whose face was hidden again. “That was scandalous, but thank you for the compliment 73 years ago. I can only hope it gets a better rating as time goes on.” He looked back to where he was reading. “Almost done. ‘I’ll enjoy my time with James as long as I can. To end this entry, James kissed me once we got to my house. Instead of the several short kisses like earlier, it was one long kiss. I'm not sure which I prefer. I don't know when I'll see him again. He works a lot. Or maybe he says he works and he's taking out someone else. I'll guess I'll find out one way or another’.” Bucky shut the book. “Twenty year old you was rude.”

Grace cut her eyes at him, “apparently you gave me reason to doubt you. Maybe you shouldn't have been two-timing other girls.”

“You better read these fast because I'm about to steal them all and read them myself,” James said putting the book back in the trunk.

“Don't you dare.”

He grinned, “I won't. Yet.”

—

The journals proved to be a treasure trove of information, if one sided. Bucky had put her journals in a box and carried them to Grace’s apartment that night and her goal was to figure out the chronology of the dates. The journals ranged from shortly before they started dating until a final entry right after Bucky “died”. It was a span of five and a half years of small hard bound books and journals consisting 8 x 11 sheets of paper bound with string. 

They had to work around Bucky's unpredictable schedule, but it did give Grace time to read entries before she shared with him. 

They finally had a free Saturday, all day, for diving more into their past. Bucky had taken time here and there to go through the trunk more. He had found letters he wrote to her during the war as well as dittos she had made of her letters to him. He was glad she had the foresight for that. He was glad his sister never read the letters. Some of the things they wrote made him blush. It did give him an accurate idea of how their relationship was. While Bucky knew she had had close friends, the fact she chose to keep everything about them felt enormous. 

Bucky and Grace sat on the couch, eating donuts that Bucky had bought that morning. The box of journals sat on his coffee table, ready to be read. 

“So do you want to just alternate entries or journals?” Grace asked him.

Bucky shrugged. “Maybe we each read a couple entries and then decide. Just play it by ear.”

“Alright, I'll start. So this journal started in July and you were mentioned a few times, mainly just me mentioning you're good looking,” Grace began, not making eye contact with Bucky. She had second hand embarrassment. “Your ego did not suffer with me around, apparently. But I'm going to start with an entry from the end of August, before we even had a first date.” Grace shifted to a more comfortable position before beginning, “‘August 28, 1939. Today was a pretty boring Monday until I got home from work. James Barnes visited on his way home. He seemed really nervous which was odd. Normally it seems like nothing bothers him. He asked about my day and then my neighbor came out and chatted a few minutes which I didn't like much. After he left, James was really shy. He really is the cutest when he blushes.’ Any comments yet?” Grace asked Bucky.

He shook his head, his cheeks pink. Perhaps younger her had a point. 

“‘So after a few minutes of not really saying anything he asked me on a date!!’ I put two exclamation points too, this was something big. ‘Our schedules don't really align until next Thursday, the 7th. I hate having to wait so long but James said he was worried that someone else would ask me on a date before he could. So now I have to wait such a long time. I guess it'll give me time to find something to wear. I don't think I'd have enough time to make a new dress. Nancy might have something I could borrow if I need it.’ I wish I had given Nancy's last name. I'm guessing she was a friend of mine. The next relevant passage is from September 8th, the day after our date. ‘Last night I had my first date with James. I'm gonna be honest, I'm a little disappointed he didn't try and kiss me.’”

Bucky interrupted her, “why didn't you do anything?”

Grace shrugged, “It wasn't lady like to do that on a first date.”

“I don't think I ever kissed a girl on the first date.”

Grace rolled her eyes, “moving on… ‘He did hold my hand though, which was nice. We really don't want anyone to know so we went down to a little diner on 86th and then went to this spumoni place nearby. I had never tried that before. It was really good. It was three flavors of ice cream layered. There was pistachio, cherry, and chocolate. I think the cherry was my favorite.’ I agree with my past self, the cherry is the best part.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “You gotta have all three flavors in every bite. That's the masterpiece.”

“I still question your taste. ‘James looked really handsome.’ Good grief, I was crazy about you.” Bucky gave her a cheeky smile as she continued reading. “‘He wore a really nice blue shirt. It seemed to make his eyes bluer. We talked for hours. It was nice getting to know him as someone other than Becca's brother who I occasionally saw. He doesn't always show it, but he's really smart.’” 

“You're savage, you realize that, right?” Bucky asked.

Grace giggled and read on. “‘I really enjoyed having a first date that wasn't with all my friends looking on. We talked about maybe going on another one, depending on how his schedule works out. Sometimes he has to work doubles and he says he goes straight to bed after that. I hope we can. Maybe next time he'll actually kiss me.’ That's the end of that passage. So I put little post-it note tabs on entries that I thought were important. Surprisingly I didn't always write about you.”

Bucky just grinned and took the journal from Grace. “Looks like the next marked entry was the one I read before. I'm really curious to know if I got points docked because I didn't kiss you first.”

“It seemed to affect me greatly if you couldn't tell,” Grace said drily. 

‘October 4, 1939. James Barnes is a big jerk!” Bucky groaned, “I'm so glad you didn't withhold your feelings. ‘First things first, apparently we are going steady? Some girls came up and asked me if I had gone on dates with him and I asked where they had heard that. They said that he told them that we had gone out and we were going steady. So I guess we are. We hadn't really discussed it. Now here is where he's the jerk. So he told those girls that but we were supposed to go to the movies tonight; we were meeting each other there. He had gotten there before me. By the time I got there Virginia Smith was flirting with him, or at least it looked like it. If she was any closer she might as well have crawled in his trousers with him.’” Bucky paused and looked to Grace. “Is this girl going to walk away unscathed? ‘He didn't even try and move away. James must have been watching for me because as soon as I saw that, I turned around and left. He must have seen me leave because he followed me. He followed me down the street trying to get me to stop so we could talk. I didn't want to talk to him. He hadn't changed.’” Bucky raised an eyebrow towards Grace. “You were quite stubborn.”

Grace shrugged. “Not much has changed.”

“‘James tried to tell me it wasn't what it looked like. That she was just talking to him. It didn't look like just talking to me. I told him he could take her to the movies since he was interested in her. He didn't have to worry about me anymore. He insisted he wasn't interested in her, only me, and that he wasn't flirting with her even if she had been flirting with him. He had told her that we were going steady. He really doesn't fight fair. He gave me these big puppy dog eyes and pouted while hugging me. He said he really wanted to go to the movies with me and that if we went he wouldn't eat all the popcorn. He lied. He ate nearly all of it. So maybe I was the sucker in the end.’ Well now I know your weakness,” Bucky said. He planned to use it against her when he had to. 

Grace rolled her eyes. “How do you know I'm not immune?”

“Because I'm cute.”

“Keep reading.”

—

Time passed so quickly. 

It took several months to get through the journals because Avenging didn't care who they were or what they were trying to accomplish. It just happened. Plowing through the journals happened in-between saving the world.

Carolyn was serious about inviting them to her holiday events. At first it was awkward, but as time passed it got easier. There were always lots of questions from anyone gathered around. Some were easily answered and some weren't, their new-found family were gracious. 

Before Bucky and Grace realized it, it had been three years since Bucky had been back in New York. Three years since reintroduction and three years of getting to know each other all over again. 

During that time they had opted to stay friends. They both had separate lives and both felt they needed to get settled into the world before trying to start any type of romantic relationship, either with each other or anyone else.

Bucky was the one who brought it up one night. “What if…what if we changed things?” He asked Grace as they watched a movie “from their time” as people would tease. It was The Wizard of Oz. Apparently they had seen it when it released in theaters as part of a group, just a couple days before Bucky had had the nerve to ask her out. 

Grace looked over at him with an eyebrow raised, not saying a word.

He hesitated, “what if we…decided…to maybe go from friends to…more than friends?” Bucky's face was red. He didn't think it would be this hard to ask her out. Again. 

“Are you asking me to go steady, James?” Grace asked, mildly teasing him. She really was excited. “I'd love to, though. Shall we set a date?”

Everyone seemed to love it when the town came together for a picnic. This time was a back-to-school celebration. The whole downtown square was blocked off from vehicular traffic as people milled around. Kids were having foot races against their parents in the field just off the square and games of horseshoes were set up in front of the court house. For some the star of the show was the food stretched out along one side of the courthouse on numerous tables. The sheriff's department was scattered throughout the crowd, both on duty and off. 

A part of me knew I shouldn't sneak up on unsuspecting women; I had been through this before, but she looked beautiful standing there in the shade. I couldn't help myself even if it would be “unprofessional” and “unbecoming” of a sheriff. Oh well. I moved in quietly behind her, surprising myself that no twigs gave me away, and wrapped my arms around her waist before kissing her neck. 

A squeal slipped out of her followed by my name, “Lee!” She didn't try to get away however as her hands landed on mine. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” Sweetheart she was, too. She was much nicer than I'd ever be. She'd been mine since the day I met her years ago. It hadn't taken her long to claim me either. A part of me wondered if she wasn't part of the reason I was elected sheriff a few years ago. She knew everyone in town, some since the day she was born. Everyone seemed to like her, I hadn't heard people say things against her; I'd straighten that out if I did. 

“Why do you always scare me?” she asked, trying to turn in my arms. I couldn't have that; it would be even more of a distraction and I was on duty. 

I shrugged in response to her question. “I guess because I know it annoys you and you won't stay mad at me long.”

She tsked. “I'm supposed to be making sure kids don't run off with all the desserts, Lee. You're distracting.” She still didn't make a move to leave. 

“Hell, there's plenty of cookies for them to each have ten. If anyone asks, the Sheriff will vouch that you were doing your duty.”

She let out a laugh. “You're not doing your duty.” The town could have their badge back if they wanted, and they didn't seem to want it. 

“I'm still watching things. The Hendricks girl snuck away with the Watson boy about 15 minutes ago, they're behind the hardware store. See, I'm on top of things.” Nothing had come across the radio anyways. I didn't anticipate anything to happen, even out in the county. This event would be a big draw all afternoon. 

“Big time crime right there. That's gotta be up there with egging a house.”

I rolled my eyes and loosened my arms. “I do have to go, just to patrol. Probably break up the lovebirds.” 

She pouted but stepped away. “You should just let them be, you remember what love is like, right?” She poked at my side with that question.

“Is that what you call it when you're harassing me daily?” I teased. 

“You liked that harassment this morning,” she said, lowering her voice. It was true. I thoroughly enjoyed it. She did too for that matter. 

I just gave her a smirk. “I'll be around. Yell if you need me, sweetheart,” I said and headed towards a row of buildings where the hardware store was.  

—

I didn't talk with her for the next couple hours. I kept an eye on her from a distance for the most part but she was always talking with someone and someone was always coming up and talking with me.

The celebration was winding down. There were lots of people still around and I had been standing on a corner near the courthouse with a couple of my deputies when the distinct sound of flesh being struck and vulgarity in the air. That wouldn't go over well. My eyes immediately went to my girl. It was habit. I didn't think she'd be in trouble. The deputies took off before me but I ran over. I don't run. I stroll. I amble. I don't run.  But for her I did. It took less than 30 seconds to get there. She was flexing her hand and the victim of the hit looked angrier than anything and was running his mouth. One deputy had him, so my concern was her. The other deputy had her several feet away for privacy and safety. 

“Mrs. Bodecker, you've got to say what happened. Without your side, we only have his word and it's not good.” 

She just shook her head and looked away from both the deputy and myself. 

I opted to step in. “Darren, go see if anyone saw anything. There's people everywhere. Someone must have seen something. I'll stay here.” He nodded, figuring I'd have better luck, and left. 

I looked at her but she still didn't look at me. “Baby, will you tell me what happened?”

She shook her head again. 

I let out a sigh. “I know you don't just go around punching people. I know you had a damn good reason. Apparently you landed it solid too. Didn't know you had it in you.”

She still refused to look at me. 

“I have to know what happened, if not as your husband then as the sheriff. Without your word, he can try and have you arrested for hitting him. I don't even know who the fuck he is.” I had seen him once or twice over the last two weeks. New in town. I didn't know if he was passing through or trying to establish himself. 

The look on her face showed she was fighting something internally. Finally, she spoke. “Will you promise not to get mad at me?”

I immediately didn't like where this was going. “I can try.” It was rare I ever got angry at her. Sure, we annoyed each other sometimes but nothing like the true anger I saw on calls where couples started beating each other. I couldn't even recall a time I felt angry at her. I'm sure I pissed her off weekly. 

She bit her lip. “I don't know who he is. He came up earlier and started talking to me. It's been off and on all afternoon. At one point he asked if I was seeing someone. I said I was married. He'd leave and then come back and talk more.” 

I wanted to know why she hadn't told me he had been bothering her and I wanted to know from myself how I hadn't seen it. Instead of asking all the questions, I put my arm around her shoulder, drawing her close to me. 

The gesture caused her to start crying. “He came up behind me… and touched me… there…from behind. I knew it wasn't you, Lee. It scared me so much that all I did was turn and hit him. I didn't know what to do. I just acted. Please don't be mad at me. I don't want another man touching me that way. You haven't even done anything like that.” 

It was hard to understand what she was saying between her hiding her face in my shirt and the tears. “He did what?” I didn't want her to think I didn't believe her but I didn't understand. 

She lifted her face and I wiped away some of her tears. “He came up from behind and put his hand between my legs from behind. He didn't touch my rear but…the other part.” She was not normally a shy person around me when it came to discussing body parts. She could be just as crass as I could be. 

She must have seen my expression change as I let it sink in what she had told me because she pleaded again. “Please don't be mad at me, Lee. I didn't want that. I didn't encourage him.” 

It wasn't her I felt rage towards. Not at all. I knew her and trusted her. She didn't flirt with other men. I held her tight. “I promise I’m not mad at you. I believe you, baby. I want you to give your statement to a deputy at the office. I'll have him take you home. I'll be a little late tonight because of this. I don't think differently of you. You're still my girl.” I reassured her with a kiss to the forehead. Was it professional? Hell no, but at that moment it didn't matter. She was more important than my job. 

—

Before I got married, the seasons changing really didn't mean much to me. Sure, I liked the cooler weather after a hot summer, but who didn't? And spring was also a nice reprieve from the cold winter. That's about as much thought as I gave the seasons once I got beyond trick-or-treating age. That had been fun as a kid. But now, it was different. A tradition unknowingly started back when my girl and I first dated.

She'd pick a Saturday in October and declare that now that it was fall, we needed pumpkins for the front porch and we needed to see whatever scary movie was playing in town.

This morning had been declared such a day while we were having breakfast. This year’s movie was The Pit and The Pendulum with Vincent Price. I think if I could redo my life, I'd be an actor like him and stick with scaring people. But before we could see the movie we had to find the perfect pumpkins.

“So,” I started as I finished getting dressed for the day. “I don't think our usual three pumpkin patches will do this year. We may have to do 8, just to be sure.”

I caught the dirty look in the mirror. In the four years we had done this, it was never just one pumpkin patch, one year we went to four. “I can't help it that some of these farmers can't grow decent pumpkins, Lee.”

“A pumpkin is a pumpkin, darling.”

She scoffed like I had offended the long line of pumpkin pickers in her family tree. “Aren't you glad you aren't a pumpkin.”

“I mean I was runner-up for a while.”

Her face turned red and she rolled her eyes. “Just be thankful there wasn't a third option.”

I rolled my eyes at that. “You know, we could just grow our own pumpkins next year. That way you know they are grown just right.”

“You don't want to spend this time with me, Lee?” she asked, giving me large puppy eyes. She was a manipulative woman and I loved every bit of her.

—

My sweet girl had a list of pumpkin patches in hand. Apparently she had done her calling and research throughout the week. I sighed a little as I read the address of the first patch. She was gonna take us damn near all over Ohio.

The first patch ended up letting us down. I could tell almost immediately and I was no pumpkin expert. These ones were small and while I don't mind small pumpkins, these weren't it.

I was certain patches two and three were gonna be it, but she only found one pumpkin she liked at three. So in the car it went to ride along to patch four.

The fourth, and thankfully final, stop was far more promising. We hadn't heard of this place but we'd definitely be back in future visits. Along with rows and rows of the-right-shade-of-orange pumpkins, there was an apple orchard that provided fruit for their own cider mill. In another area they had a place for farm animals.

We made the most of our visit there. We spent time in the apple orchard, gathering apples for turning into applesauce and some for making into pies.

We made our way to the area with the animals and immediately there were squeals of how cute the baby animals were.

“Lee! Look at how little they are!” And whether I wanted to or not, there was a chick thrust in my hands, peeping at me like I'm the one who moved it away from the ground.

I couldn't keep up with my wife. She cooed over the baby goats and luckily I wasn't handed one of those. Next thing I know she was over by some ducks and then she saw some cows and then there were lambs and then there was an area with puppies. We spent the better part of 30 minutes with the puppies.

“Lee, we need to get a puppy.”

“We really don't.”

She glared at me. “But it's cute.”

I knew she wasn't thinking with her college educated brain but rather it was the oxytocin talking. “Sure, but training them ain't easy.”

“You're no fun, Lee.”

“Let's talk about it when you're not up to your eyes in baby animals.”

She rolled her eyes and trash talked me to the puppy. The puppy was just excited to see people. I don't even think those puppies were up for adoption.

Finally we made our way to the whole point of the trip, the pumpkins. We bought two more large pumpkins as well as several small ones, which I didn't understand because the small ones at the first patch didn't qualify.

“Lee, these ones are for baking,” I was told once I returned from taking the two big pumpkins to our car. “There's a difference.”

“I don't see how, wouldn't you get more pies with larger pumpkins?”

“No, the taste is different. The inside is different.” Apparently I married a pumpkin connoisseur too.

“I'll take your word for it. Just tell me which ones to carry.” Once our pumpkins were picked and loaded into the back of the car, it was thankfully time for a well earned lunch break.

—

Despite having lunch before we saw the movie, we still had to get popcorn. I wasn't sure how many years this part of the tradition would last. My girl really didn't like scary movies. I loved them. Maybe it was because I ended up with someone absolutely clinging to me. Maybe it was because they were good movies. The world may never know.

“Are you sure you want to watch this one? We don't have to watch a scary movie. We can pick another one.”

“No, Lee, it's October,” she said as if I was unaware of some rule that stated that you must watch a scary movie in October.

“I'm well aware of how calendars work. Are you sure though? I know you don't like these movies much.”

“I love these movies,” she said although her voice wavered a bit.

“Alright, but if you want to leave midway, we can.”

We lasted the entire movie. I thought it was fantastic. I don't think my wife would agree much. It wasn't spooky with ghosts and things like that, but it was unsavory for certain audiences. She kept her face hidden between my arm and the back of my chair most of the time.

It was dark when we left the theater and darker by the time we made it home. She held my hand as we walked over the grass to the front door.

Our house wasn't big or fancy. Whereas she had lived in a residential area before we married, I lived in a more rural area. I was just a few miles from town but I had a few acres surrounding the house. There were woods behind the house and on one side that could be unsettling.

“I think we should move, Lee,” she murmured as I let go of her hand to unlock the door.

I bit back a grin. “Why's that, darling?”

“We don't know who could be creeping in the woods. It's dangerous.”

“It's just a few deer wandering around. Besides, I'll always keep you safe. Ain't nothing to worry about.” I pulled her close as we stepped into the house. “I promised to always keep you safe.”

Later, after we got into bed, I was prepared for the next wave of tradition.

“Lee, what was that creak?” she whispered in the dark, still close to my side.

“Baby, it's just the house settling. It does it every single night.”

“Did you lock the doors?”

“I did.”

“How about the windows?”

“They're never unlocked. They're fine.” That wasn't necessarily true, the window in our bedroom was open to let in the autumn breeze.

“Are you sure? About the doors.”

“I'm not college educated like you but I do know how to lock a door.”

“Lee.” She tsked.

A coyote howl found its way through our window and I felt the shiver from her. “What was that?” she whispered.

“Just a coyote somewhere. They howl every night.”

“How do you know?”

“Well it's not a wolfman or anything. It's not even a full moon, darling.”

“Lee, we need to move closer to town. It's too much living out here.”

“No, you need to stop thinking. I can help you get rid of your thoughts if you like…” I murmured, running a hand up and down the top part of her thigh.

“Well…maybe you're right.”

I had been in Knockemstiff about a year when I met the prettiest little thing the country had to offer. She was born and raised here but had the opportunity to go off to college. She had just finished her schooling and come back home, taking up a job at the library until she either got married or decided to leave again to try and pursue an actual career. That was 6 months ago.

I heard her giggle when I opened the interior doors of the library. Technically I was on duty, but this was a public building and sometimes the teenagers could get rowdy. It was only right for a deputy to keep an eye on things. 

“Afternoon, ma'am,” I said and tipped my hat to her as I walked up to the counter.

 She finished with the patrons before rolling her eyes at me. “Lee, how many times do I have to tell you you don't have to call me ma'am?”

“It's just the polite thing to do. I'm a gentleman.” Sometimes. I leaned on the counter and in a quieter voice asked, “You want to go to the drive-in tonight? It's just a couple monster flicks.”

Her smile faded. “We can't keep doing this. People are gonna find out and…” She trailed off and upon seeing another patron walking up, left me alone. 

By “people”, she meant the point of contention between us. Her boyfriend. Some no good asshole she had been seeing off and on for a few years. Only this time it didn't seem like there would be an off. She deserved someone better than him. Truthfully she deserved someone better than me, too. But I wasn't about to let her slip away. 

She finally walked back to me and I chose to meddle “Where is good ol’ John anyway? Haven't seen him at the jail in a couple weeks.” It was wrong of me to do that, but she did pick him.

“Lee, please, don't start. I don't want to talk about him. He's still making me nervous.”

I frowned at her comment; this wasn't the first time I'd heard her mention it, but it was the first time she looked scared. I reached for her hand, rubbing my thumb along the back of her hand. “There's no need to be nervous. I've got you. Either I'm with you or I'm a quick phone call away. Do you want me to be here when you get off work?” She shook her head at that. I wish I could have done more to ease her mind. 

“Alright, if everything is quiet here, I'll be finishing my rounds.”

She nodded. “Will you pick me up at 8?” she asked in a whisper. 

I gave her a brief nod and left. She could have told me to show up at 2 in the morning and I would have. I was already crazy about her. Maybe it was bias, but I thought she was pretty crazy about me too.

—

I picked her up at 8 like she asked and drove to the theater. Like usual, she ignored any comments I had made earlier in the day, and chattered about a variety of subjects. The current topic was someone's wedding shower. 

“So Mom couldn't make up her mind about what to bring so she's making one thing and I have to make the other.”

“So what are you making?” Sometimes her Mom would have her try more experimental recipes and that led to tears and lots of frustration. 

“Just macaroni and cheese. Thankfully there isn't anything weird about it.”

“You could add bacon to it. Give it a crunch and a slightly different flavor.” My goal in suggesting that was to try and be there when she made it. It always helped to have a taste tester. 

She thought about it for a minute. “That sounds really good.”

“See, I have good ideas every so often,” I murmured and turned into the drive-in. The attendant raised an eyebrow as I paid but made no comment. This arrangement was probably one of the worst kept secrets in town, but somehow the people of town kept their damn mouth shut about it. 

I parked in our usual spot and went to grab popcorn for us despite her saying she didn't want any. She said it every time and yet she always ended up with the bucket by her. 

We had seen the first movie before so it only took about 15 minutes before she was in my lap, kissing me and making the most wonderful noises. However, for some stupid fucking reason, I stopped her. 

This wasn't the first time it had happened. Last time she had stopped me to tell me yet again that we couldn't keep this charade going. I guess she figured if she kept saying it one of us would believe it.  

She pouted when I told her to stop. “Lee, I don't want to stop. You feel so good.” My hands hadn't even been up her skirt yet so I knew she was stalling. 

“Yeah but we need to talk.” I was such a goddamn fool to stop. 

She sighed. “About what?” She asked as she moved back to her seat, smoothing out her skirt. Normally she'd stay on my lap while we talked so we could get back to what we started quicker. I didn't think that was gonna happen tonight.

“When you gonna leave that jackass?” I should have been nicer about it but she had to have known this was going to come up. It was a topic brought up every few weeks. 

“I don't want to discuss that right now,” she said looking at the screen, crossing her arms.

“Well I do. We've been messing around for 6 months and nothing has changed with you and him.”

“Look, I tried. I tried ending things a couple weeks ago and he wasn't having it,” she snapped.

I shook my head;, it wasn't necessarily his decision. She just had to stop going out with him and stop taking his calls. Eventually he would stop calling. 

“I'm not trying to string you along.”

I huffed, “could have fooled me.”

“Lee, he scares me. He's said some things recently that weren't good. I'm pretty sure he knows about us. I'm just scared he'll do something stupid.”

I narrowed my eyes. “what's he saying or doing? Baby, you don't gotta be scared. You have the Sheriff's department behind you. And your daddy is a good enough lawyer he could make any charge stick.”

She shook her head. “He said he'd hurt me. He said he'd try and get on as an officer. Said that he and I were practically married and I couldn't leave him. I've never even slept with him.”

I couldn't help but snort when she said he'd try and be an officer. “They wouldn't hire him as an officer because he can't stay out of the damn jail long enough. And either you're married or not. He can say practically all he wants but there's nothing legal about it. You don't live together.”

“I don't want him to hurt me. I think he'd make good on that. He and his buddies are always talking and causing trouble at the bar. There was a night last week. It was one of the evenings I had gone to your house for dinner. I'd been home a little while and already in bed when I heard a loud banging on the front door. Whoever it was walked around the house, tapping on the windows. They knew where my room was. Then they pounded on the back door. I guess they left. I didn't sleep the rest of the night. I didn't even try to see who it was. I just hoped they left.”

I clenched my jaw as she talked. I was a bit annoyed she hadn't told me that before. That fucker would disappear if he ever laid a hand on her. “He won't hurt you. I’ll make sure of that. But why didn't you call me or dispatch?” She lived a few miles from me towards town. Her little house was right on the edge of the residential area. 

“What was I gonna say, someone knocked on my door? You can't be with me all the time, Lee. What, are you gonna set up a tent in my yard when you're not on duty?”

I shook my head. “Won’t take all that. We start a rumor. Maybe we go to the county clerk's office tomorrow. Let people think we're getting a marriage licence. That'll piss him off. You stay at your folks place for a few days and I stay at your place. Wait him out. I can't say he'll come looking for you, but he might. Won't be expecting me.” It was a half thought out plan. The town liked gossip. Sure the county clerk office did more than marriage licenses but when two people got there, it usually caused a stir. If it was at the right time and the right gossip saw it, it would spread like wildfire. 

She stared at her hands that rested in her lap. She was thinking things through. “I don't see why I have to stay with my parents. I've already stayed over at your place before several times.”

I shrugged. “It's different. You live closer to people. More eyes. I just don't want people thinking wrongly of you.”

She looked at me in disbelief. “Lee, I'm publicly dating John and running around with you on the side, even if I haven't said it out loud. People have their thoughts I'm sure.”

“Ah, we're just friends.”

She rolled her eyes. I don't think anyone truly believed that. 

“The point stands. I don't want you to get hurt. If you're not there you can't get hurt.”

She shook her head. “Let me think about it.” She apparently didn't want to think about it at that time because ten minutes later she was back in my lap and her boyfriend was long out of our minds. 

—

The rest of the week passed and the weekend came and went and I still didn't have an answer to my plan. I hadn't been able to see my girl like I wanted, but I kept an eye on her place as much I could. 

Midweek, she came to the sheriff's office right before noon. I was at my desk in the main area catching up on paperwork. “Alright, let's try your plan,” she said once I waved her over to me, keeping her voice down. “No time like the present.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What changed your mind?”

She stared at the calendar on the wall behind. She looked like she didn't want to tell me. “I saw John over the weekend. Tried to end things again. I had my dad there. John wasn't happy, needless to say.”

I wasn't happy either that she saw him and I tried to not let it show. “Alright, let's go. You gonna stay with your folks this week?” She nodded her response. “I have a key for you also.”

I nodded and put my hat on as we stepped over to the courthouse; thankfully the clerk office had an outside entrance. There were people milling around. Hopefully the right people saw. 

After the visit there, which was under the pretense of needing a new birth certificate, I treated my girl to lunch at the diner. Really try to push things along. 

We didn't get the response we were looking for until Friday night. I had been staying over at my girl’s place, leaving my car in town and walking the few blocks to her place. She stayed at her parents like we planned. 

I was sitting in the living room with the small side table lamp on as I polished my gun. Time felt like it was dragging this week. I thought he'd be here before now. At the bars he was always quick to fight. Suddenly, I heard the crack of the back door, like someone had used a pry bar to open it. 

I listened as the door creaked and footsteps stepped into the kitchen. Whoever it was - and I had a good idea who - was trying to some degree to not make noise. I sat upright as the footsteps came near to the living room. The gun was sitting on the coffee table before me. Nothing stopped me from shooting the bastard at first sight. Well, almost nothing. I didn't think killing my girl’s boyfriend in her own home would win me any affection. 

John stepped into the room and his eyes widened when he saw me sitting there. I saw his fist tighten around the pry bar. “Looking for someone, John?”

John didn't respond with words immediately, he just lunged. As he lunged forward, I jumped up to move away and caught the distinct odor of too much booze. “You're a bastard!” he said, swinging the bar in a wide arc. He didn't hit me but he took out a lamp instead. 

He moved more in my direction and swung again, taking out some photos on a table. Her living room was not big. I figured it would be destroyed by the time he was done. John stumbled and I took the opportunity to throw a punch, it caught him on the jaw but didn't seem to stop him. He swung the pry bar and I ducked. 

I went for an uppercut and thankfully that was more successful as he dropped the pry bar and stumbled backwards. John seemed dazed. I grabbed one of his arms and brought it behind him as I tried to find my handcuffs. “Listen well, you drunk mother fucker. You ever come here or come near my girl ever again and I will not hesitate to shoot you between the eyes and wear a damn smile doing it. If she meant so much to you, maybe you shoulda kept your dick in your pants instead of visiting the girls at the bar.” I cuffed his other hand and put him on the couch before calling dispatch to have someone pick him up.

—

The next morning I called my girl to let her know that John was in jail, again, and to tell her about her damaged living room. I'd pay for her lamp and photo frames since I was technically a part of the problem. 

She met me at her house early. “I'm actually surprised the plan worked,” she said. 

I shrugged. “Got lucky. Sorry about the lamp. I promised to keep you safe, not the lamp.”

“I'd rather lose the lamp than lose you,” she said, putting her arms around me. 

Wrapping my arms around her, I kissed her head. “You know… we could go back to the county clerk's office, that part of the plan we weren't really successful with. I know I'm not the most romantic guy ever, but I am crazy for you. I'd do anything for you and I'd love if you spent the rest of your life with me. Please marry me.”