bakerstreet | OTHERWORDLY.

[ He mirrors her smile, drawing a leg up to his chest and folding the other under it: a neutral position, neither threatening nor vulnerable. ]

Beauty in small places? That your specialty?

[ It's a little romantic, he has to admit. It's not what he expected of the always-coiffed Agent Carter, but it wouldn't be the first time the outside doesn't match the inside. ]

Details, sergeant. [ the apprehension isn't thick in her voice. but it's present. there's a narrow line found between saying something aloud, and knowing a man already knows it. ] My speciality lies in the details. They needn't always be beautiful.

[ but it's better when they are. call it her own meagre optimism -- one that grows with every day spent in captain america's company. ]

[ Aim somewhere else is the warning, and he heeds it. For all he likes to push, there's limits. And some people, they don't need it. ]

No, they needn't. [ he tries out her vowels for good measure, his gaze turning distant, as he glances out of the glassless window, towards the hills. ] Most of the time, they ain't. Just how it is.

[ And the ball's back in her side of the court, he suspects, just the way she likes it. ]

[ another hollow laugh. did she really sound like that? no. not at all. his approximation makes it sound somehow stranger. ]

I joined up straight after Middle Sixth. [ -- she offers this kernel of her own history. her own life. its not exactly a fair trade, as were they anywhere but lost behind enemy lines she might have been able to access barnes's file at any time. she might have learned for herself the exact day he'd enlisted. her own file, however...

peggy watches him while he watches the hills. ] St. Martin's is an all-girls academy. Imagine the culture shock to be suddenly in the army instead. I must have been daft to choose it--

[ and yet she shows no regret. not an ounce. ]

[ He turns to look back at her as she speaks, rapt at attention. ]

We invented the Lindy Hop. Safe t'say we're all a little [ a short pause, then, deliberately, ] daft around these parts. [ simpler to think they're both just two members of the same unit, in a little tug of war to find the perfect equilibrium. Anything less could mean death out here. ] So why not the WACs?

[ The question comes with a curious glance. ]

WRACs. [ the correction is a little thing. barely important, except the 'r' stood for 'royal' and it sometimes did her good to remind the americans surrounding her that she wasn't always attached to their units. she might have grown more and more accustomed to their ways and words and wiles, but peggy carter is a liaison first and foremost.

or had been. loyalties are tricky things once the heart gets involved. ] And I imagine they would have welcomed me with open arms had -- British Intelligence not earmarked me otherwise.

[ what a broad term. british intelligence. she says it now because she still can't quite admit to bletchley park, so cloaked in secrecy it had been. ]

WRACs, [ he corrects himself, mildly. Even if it's the same thing to him: an instrument of war. ] sounds like a story. You should tell it after the war.

[ After, like their futures aren't a blank, maybe when Steve's worked up the courage to ask Peggy to marry him. Like all this — won't haunt them at all. Bucky's not one for such indulgences. That's what it is, shameless sentiment. He believes what's there and what he has to, to keep going. Nothing more, or less. ]

Why, so you might repeat it ad nauseam to any pretty pair of ears who'll listen? Gather up their favours with tales of daring war-time ladies whose gentle resilience you see reflected in them? [ her lips curled up into a smirk. the words aren't harsh. they aren't even true. tonight, she expects she can trust barnes with vague outline of her secrets. he's a rake, but he's a loyal one. she sees that when he stands by steve. ]

I'll be damned before I'm nostalgic fodder for your pick-up lines. [ but her judgement and her ire are non-existent. an honest brightness persists in her eyes. as though (beneath the uniform and the resolute duty) peggy carter enjoys a good bit of teasing. ]

I do like talking about myself, [ he replies, with a light smirk of his own. ] and I managed melting all the dames in Brooklyn single-handed for nine years, Carter. I imagine I'll do just fine.

[ The smirk softens to genuine amusement; he's laughing silently. ]

Though I wouldn't say no if you wanted to talk me up.

All of them? Good Lord.

[ disbelief mingles with amusement mingling once again with mild admiration. hyperbolic, obviously. but she fed into that hyperbole in favour of even suggesting she might ever 'talk him up' -- despite the fact that, day by day, she feels herself liking the sergeant more and more. ]

[ He just winks at her. Nothing in it about how the War's transmuted that ability, shifted it to something less simply wielded, hungrier, pushed him towards the line between the grey and dark places. ]

I could charm the trousers off Mussolini. [ it's no boast of his own: Steve is responsible for this particular description. He makes a show of being thoughtful ] Maybe I should. Just drop me in Italy would ya? War'll be over in a day.

[ As for Schmidt and Hitler, well, ain't nothing nobody can do for them. ]

Our hero, Bucky Barnes. [ she tips her hand in a budget-version of a salute. more importantly, she slides her identification of him firmly into the realm of the familiar. the casual. distanced only a little by an exaggerated hypothetical, but generous all the same. ]

Where should they erect the statue, hmm? [ of him, for all his selfless trouser-charming. ]

[ Generous indeed. Something lights up in his eyes, and softens the lines on his face. Even if that old name is far away, on his bad days, feels like a ghost, it's still his memory: of a better time. ]

In the living room, so I can preen every morning. What d'you say?

[ The joke here is: there'll be statues of Steve, meant to be someone, like Bucky always knew he'd be someone. Him, maybe he'll be lucky to get a footnote. But that's not why he's here and it tastes too much like jealousy, which he can't entertain towards the only friend he's ever had. ]

A touch selfish, isn't it? [ generosity rounded out by mock-scolding. she doesn't let a mood settle. not long enough to adapt to it, at least. ] Locking what will doubtless be a grand work of art in your lounge, unshared with the rest of us?

[ and yet she understands. similarly, her lot in this war is not to exceed the pinnacle that will be captain america. she is a strut; a support; an important piece in a larger puzzle. her pride can withstand such a blow, because that's how she's been trained. ever the agent, never the hero. ]

[ Step by step, marching in tune with her, trading friendly barbs. Best place to be, second only to being next to Steve. ]

[ Without missing a beat, ] Your living room, then.

[ hah! she could turn, now. curl her lip and refuse to play along with such a ridiculous notion. but that would gain her nothing -- and she'd quite like to maintain a working relationship with the sniper, if not a fully-fledged friendship. ]

Ah, perhaps. [ deadpan. ] Provided it doesn't require too much polishing. I'm a busy woman, I'll remind you.

[ He laughs again, silently, stopping only for his requisite glance out towards the hills. The world out there is dark, and still. ]

Oh, you don't need to worry. I feed and walk myself, too.

[ peggy doesn't think of the future. she doesn't let herself imagine one where the war's done and she's survived and -- maybe just maybe -- such a hypothetical den might be shared between herself and steve. a pair of kisses does not a life-long commitment make, and yet the thought occurs to her now and then. sweet and surprising.

until tonight, that vision hadn't quite included barnes. her narrowed tunnel vision had excluded the other soldier, but now she understands she could never be shot of him. doesn't really want to be, either. he is the other half of what makes captain america the man he is.

perhaps a statue is an appropriately silly suggestion, but it's true that he could only ever hold a place of admiration and respect within their future lives. ]

Bloody hell. Don't mention eating. [ her stomach might as well have growled. ]

Edited 2015-05-29 13:28 (UTC)

[ The mood shifts in seconds: he's searching his pockets for any scrap, and finds a small, carefully saved part of his rations. He sets them aside for Steve, him and his new metabolism. They might be a day or two from base yet, but he offers it to her silently. ]

[ peggy doesn't mean to glare. and yet it looks a little like exactly that. even so, she plucks the d-ration bar from his palm and (after giving it a lengthy inspection) snaps it into two pieces. ]

Best keep the eyes fed. [ it doesn't matter whether he eats it now or later. all that matters is that she can't deprive him of the whole damned thing. ]

[ Her response is so reminiscent of Steve when he was small and plenty proud that Bucky sort of smiles back at her, wry and fond and overly nostalgic. ]

You don't have to worry about me.

[ But he accepts the half she's offering him. ]

'Sides, if it weren't me here it'd be you. We should have a little friendly competition sometime.

[ Sharpshooters unite. ]

Aha.

[ she snaps her own half into halves of its own. d-rations: the american military complex's attempt at chocolate. packed full of so much caloric-dense filler that it barely tastes like chocolate any longer. peggy doesn't mind; she'd rather the energy. she starts with a nibble. ]

It would be my pleasure. It's been too long since I've shouldered anything with any measure of precision. [ pistols. shot-guns. they weren't sleek-and-patient things like a sniper rifle. sometimes, she watched barnes tote his around with a little bit of envy. ] Sometime.

[ And convenient, she doesn't even admit to it. He misses Steve then: Steve who's a hundred pounds soaking wet and barely up to his shoulder. He sees that kid, sometimes, in the man who walks in front of them now, and he follows. Experiencing this now from someone else with just as much to prove as his best friend once did almost feels like a cruel kick in the teeth. ]

[ Or maybe it's the moment he decides he'd follow her too. ]

Sometime soon. Promise.

[ He nibbles carefully on his section of the ration, intending to save as much as he can. ]

[ another small bite. she's making this last -- exerting the full will of her impulse control against the active hunger in her gut. ]

Once we're out of the frying pan, so to speak. [ she talks her way around absent promises. suggesting that things will get better (they must) and that someday a morning will break that sees them secure in camp cots instead of with bedrolls on dusty abandoned floors. ] We'll have Steve place the targets. Judge the shots. I can think of no-one fairer.

[ perhaps it wouldn't be kind to the captain himself: calling a winner between his best friend and his might-as-well-be-best-gal. but he's still precisely the only person who could manage so much impartiality. ]

[ Out of the frying pan, like they'll ever be, because if it's not this then it's something else, or on top of that bombs and gunfire and nothing spared to rain hell on them all. ]

If he doesn't volunteer first.

[ They've always both had a little competitive streak between them: nothing cruel, always friendly. ]

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enjoy this daring foray into headcanon :|

you live dangerously

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