bakerstreet | Stolen Moments

[

57times a few years on; gen CR is just as welcome as shipping. ]

Edited 2018-06-01 04:22 (UTC)

[Cast mates and cross canon welcome.]

[Welcome to all]

OTA

[ When she had suggested it, all those months ago, she had mostly been joking. It had seemed like a ridiculous idea. Bucky, marrying her? Why the fuck would he want to do that, when he could have his pick of any broad in Brooklyn? Even though he had promised her — through making her promise him to stay in the apartment — to look after her even when he was deployed, it had never occurred to her that he would take her up on her offer of being his wife. She'd be terrible at it. She's no homemaker. Bucky cooks them dinner, half the time, since she's either in the middle of one of her few illustration commissions, or she's too sick to be spending time in the kitchen. She can keep the apartment neat, but only because they barely have two cents to rub together, not because she's especially tidy. Apart from that?

No, she's nobody's idea of a good wife.

And yet he had come home yesterday wearing his olive-green uniform, cleaned and pressed by people other than her, and told her they were going to get married.

Her mother would kill her for this. Stephanie is Irish Catholic. She was supposed to have a proper church wedding, with her family in attendance, with her fiancé's family in attendance, with God in attendance. Instead she's standing in line at the courthouse at nine am with only Bucky at her side, wearing the cleanest, nicest clothes she could find, her heart thundering in her chest as she hides her sweaty palms in her sweater pockets. She's nervous, a little sick to her stomach, and she's not sure if it's just the idea of people staring at her and wondering what the hell a sickly asthmatic like her did to convince a man like Bucky to ask her to marry him, or if it's typical pre-wedding jitters. She's been sick for so much of her life, she never spent much time discussing her potential wedding with her mother. She doesn't know what to expect. She doesn't know how this is going to affect their friendship. (She doesn't know if he'll even return for their relationship to be affected.)

She clears her throat and lets herself lean closer to Bucky, jostling his elbow with her arm. ] You remembered to bring your ID, right?

[ She's not the only one that's nervous; he composes himself better, a stoic sort of neutral expression on his face, difficult to decipher. Inside his pocket, though, his hand fiddles with what he hopes will be a good enough substitute for a wedding ring. It's a surprise, one he hasn't let onto yet, and he knows it's probably damn near the lamest thing he's ever thought of. If he had more of his pension, if he were making better money, he'd have sprung for something she deserved. He doesn't, though, and so the pair of them will have to make due.

He huffs, a soft and exasperated sound akin to a laugh but devoid of real humor. ]

How many times you plan on asking me that between now and when they pronounce us?

[ He asks, a wry sort of amusement in his tone. To placate her, he slips an arm around her back and pulls her in close, acting for all the world like the soon-to-be-married couple they're supposed to be. Nobody cares, though- the courthouse is full of young couples looking to tie the knot before their partner goes off to war. It's a sad state of affairs, but the draft spares no love the heartache. ]

Edited 2018-06-03 03:57 (UTC)

At least three more times.

[ According to the people she's spoken to, there's usually a 24-hour waiting period between filing for a marriage license and being allowed to actually get married, but it looks like, with all the other couples getting married as quickly as they possibly can before the war comes crashing home, that has been waived. It's the reason she's standing here with just Bucky and no one else, not even his parents or his sisters here to act as witness to their vows.

Oh god, their vows. She knows Bucky well enough to know that he doesn't put much stock in religion, but she does, if only to make her mother happy.

Yet another reason Sarah would be angry with this current situation.

But Sarah is dead, and Bucky is going off to war, and Stephanie is desperate not to lose every single part of him.

He drapes his arm over her shoulders and pulls her closer to his side, and normally she would resist a little, or at least roll her eyes and then wiggle away soon enough, but since she's playing the part of a doe-eyed fiancée (a part that comes to her far easier than she wants to admit to), she lets herself turn in towards him, tucking herself in close. ] I know what you're like.

What am I like, huh?

[ He asks, amused. It's a quiet mutter from the corner of is mouth while his eyes scan the other couples. The line shifts forward as another set disappear inside the door right before a prior pair leave, arm and arm, grinning for all the world to see.

They take a step forward in tandem. Some of the girls here wear wedding dresses, some of them wear factory uniforms, some wear diner uniforms like they've come from a lunch break just for this. Almost all the men wear dress browns.

He knows how Sarah would have felt about it, he does, which is why he chose what he did to stand in as a substitute ring. Maybe if there is a heaven after all she'll see it and grant him a little favor when he dies and heads for hell. ]

[ Everyone around them seems so happy. There's a tinge of desperation to the mood, of course, but the couples who get served before they do seem overjoyed by their new marital status, and Stephanie is both pleased for them and oddly wistful. There was always a little part of her that hoped she'd be able to have that sort of happiness someday, that euphoric joy that comes with loving someone unconditionally and being loved in return.

She loves Bucky, she really does. He's her best and her oldest friend, and if she were ever honest with herself, she'd admit that perhaps she would have wanted more from him.

This is not quite the way she considered she'd go about getting it. ]

Reckless. [ She pulls one hand out of her pocket and slides her arm around his waist in return, figuring if she could get away with it at any time, this would be it. She wants to remember how he feels in this momenet, strong and healthy and alive. There's no guarantee she'll get to see him like this again.

She lifts her chin to grin up at him, hiding her nerves with a self-deprecating joke. ] You're marrying me, after all.

[ Her little joke earns her a smile, sincere and in good humor. She's right, chances are he'll only ever get one of these because he's a reckless asshole and he's likely to get himself killed in the trenches. Dimly, part of him knows this is a sham, fake, not a real wedding between two people who love each other because he's alone in his feelings. All the same, he figures, if they're going to do this they may as well act like two people who want to do it.

And besides, there's going to come a moment where he has to kiss the bride. If that's the only one of those he gets from her he may as well savor the time leading up to it too, right? Another couple enters, another couple exits, and they're second in line behind a sobbing girl and her placating fiance. If they're going to be anything, he doesn't want them to be that.

He shifts, tilting them away from the sad view in front of them.]

Damn straight, Mrs. Barnes. [ He replies, amusement in his tone. ] It's a family trait, you're gonna have to adopt it if we're gonna make this marriage work.

I'm not Mrs. Barnes yet.

[ That's going to take some getting used to. Although, that being said, she's almost always reacted when she heard Bucky's name being called, just because she wanted to know what was going on with him, whether or not he'd gotten in trouble or if she needed to come up with an alibi quickly. Maybe it won't be so difficult, after all. This is just like a more adult version of one of them backing up the other in a lie on the playground.

Bucky turns them a little, giving the couple in front of them some privacy, and Stephanie appreciates the gesture. It's sweet of him, and it has the added benefit of allowing her to pretend that there's nothing sad coming at all. This is a perfectly normal day.

A perfectly normal day where she marries her best friend. ]

And I don't think our marriage could handle two reckless idiots. [ Which is too bad, since that's what it's getting. ] Luckily, I've got all the brains covered. You've got the stupid. [ She squeezes him around the waist to undercut her insult, letting her head lean affectionately against his shoulder and smiling up at him. ]

[ He snorts at her assertion, but doesn't fight it. She's not wrong, though, in his opinion she's definitely the brains of the operation. Although he's likely to fight her battles for her, it's never his big idea to get into them.

The sobbing couple before them disappear into the courtroom, leaving the pair of them next in line. Suddenly, with the reality of it impending, he finds himself solemnly contemplating what's about to happen. His arm's still around her back, lips pressed into a gentle line, and he glances down at her. ]

You sure you're okay with this?

[ Because this, for once, had been his idea, and they've already established what he was in their dynamic. Stupid.

He's sure of it, though- it's one way he can guarantee her future in case he's not there to physically oversee it later. ]

[ It's good that he's aware that she's the clever one and should always be listened to.

Even if she does to stupid things like agree to marry the man she's been more than a little in love with for half her life, knowing that he doesn't feel the same about her. ]

Sure I am. It's always been a girlhood dream of mine for a fella to come home one day and say "we're getting married tomorrow, where's your blue dress?" to me.

[ The thought of Bucky not returning from the war is enough to clench tight around her ribs, leaving her feeling like she's in the midst of one of her asthma attacks, unable to suck in enough air, feeling like she's drowning on land. He's been such a constant in her life for so long, the idea that he might not be around absolutely terrifies her. This marriage lark is probably incredibly foolish, but while she can lie to herself about a lot of things, she can't lie about this: the only thing she had of her da was his name. Like hell is she going to let Bucky go off and let himself be killed without getting at least that from him to keep.

She squeezes her thin arm around his waist again. ] You're such a romantic, Buck.

[ His lips quirk up into an amused smirk as she parrots back the exact line of his proposal. He'll admit it's not the most romantic thing anyone's ever said, but what would she have had him do? Get down on one knee, admit that he's had feelings for her basically their entire friendship, confess that there's a secret part of him that wants to lay her out on the bed just as soon as the ceremony's over, or maybe before it, or during it, or constantly all the time? ]

Thank me later. [ Is his deadpan reply, because it's all he can think to say. The crying couple emerges from the room, and the door stays open before them, revealing their destination. A pristine and silent courtroom beckons them forward.

He shares a glance with her, a long and steady one, and then tugs her gently forward.

This is it. ]

[ That would probably be the most shocking thing she could possibly think of him doing, which might make for an entertaining story, a few years down the road when she stops being completely and utterly shocked by it all.

The door opens and the couple leaves, the bride — now wife, presumably — still sniffling and dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief as her fella escorts her out, and then there's no denying it: this is actually happening. She swallows sharply, forcing down the nerves that have sprung up in her throat, and meets Bucky's gaze as he looks down at her.

As usual when he's nervous or unsure of himself, he's utterly inscrutable. It would only serve to make her own nerves worse, but the arm he has about her is warm, and his eyes are gentle, and she's been placing herself in Bucky's capable hands for years now, what's the point in stopping now?

She steps into the courtroom, letting her arm fall from around his waist, and steels her nerves. ]

[ They stand together there, arm in arm, before a justice of the peace. There empty rows behind them, and enormous windows streaming sunlight in from their left, and Bucky's heart begins to beat a heavy, quick rhythm within his chest as soon as the court official begins to speak. ]

We gather here today to celebrate and dedicate the joy and deep meaning of the union of- [ He pauses, looking down at the paperwork on his desk. ]- James and Stephanie. The essence of this covenant is the acceptance of each other as Lover, Companion and Friend. Will the couple please join hands and repeat after me?

[ Bucky shifts, sliding is arm out from behind Steph and wrapping warm hands around her thin, cold fingers. ]

I, James, receive you, Stephanie, as my partner and love beside me and apart from me, in laughter and in tears, in sickness and in health, in conflict and serenity, asking that you be no other than yourself. Loving what I know of you and trusting what I do not know in all the ways that life may bring..

[ He repeats the words line by line, and as he does so, he looks her straight in the eyes. Unflinching in his gaze, because unlike a lot of the catholic weddings he's gone to that spout on and on about god in their union, these words he actually means. He can stand behind them with honesty, and the sentiment carries through his tone. ]

Edited 2018-06-05 04:38 (UTC)

[ This is not even remotely close to what Stephanie imagined her wedding day might be like.

And yet, standing in front of the justice and the bored civil servant to act as their witness, with the warm sunlight splashing across her face and Bucky's hands strong and secure around her own, she can't think of a single improvement. (Well, maybe having their family here would be nice.)

His eyes are so blue in this light. She feels pinned by them, almost, the frank way he's staring down at her as he slowly and deliberately parrots the lines the judge is feeding him leaving her feeling like a butterfly on a display board, helpless and oh so exposed. If she didn't know any better, she might think he actually means his vows, based on the way he's watching her and the solemn weight he's giving each word that he says.

She shivers, and it has absolutely nothing to do with any kind of chill she might be feeling. ]

I, Stephanie, receive you, James, as my partner and love beside me and apart from me, in laughter and in tears, in sickness and in health, in conflict and serenity, asking that you be no other than yourself. Loving what I know of you and trusting what I do not know in all the ways that life may bring.

[ Her voice quavers a little at the beginning, but as she continues to speak, the stronger it becomes, and by the time she finishes, she matches him in tone and feeling, staring boldly up at him as she squeezes her thin fingers around his.

And then the judge asks them to present their rings, and a deep blush spreads across her face, her gaze shifting from bold to mortified. She doesn't have a ring to give him, it hadn't even occurred to her to find one, somehow. She sends Bucky a beseeching look, her lips rolled together, her hands clutching his tightly. ]

[ She stares back at up at him, and in this moment, he thinks, they might both mean what they say. He thinks there may be a variance on what romantic extent they both may feel, but the sentiment? He thinks it's true. He thinks they both will love each other the way their vows impose upon them, and he thinks if that's all he gets, well, maybe he's fine with that. And maybe, hell, maybe he'll survive the war and come home, and they'll still be married, and she'll accept him as her husband in a more legitimate fashion, and he'll get the chance to prove he means every word of it in every possible way.

He hadn't expected a ring from her, but fortunately he's prepared with something of his own. A hand slips from hers and into his pocket, and from it he pulls something that is decidedly not a ring. It's a small, thin, white scrap of fabric that appears to have been cut from something. A keen eye will pick up a distinct lacey pattern; it's a cutting from her mother's dress, taken from the sleeve. It hangs still in the closet of their home, one of the last pieces of her mother Stephanie carries with her. Maybe Steph will hate him for it, but he thinks Sarah would have appreciated being part of this ceremony in some small way.

Carefully, he wraps the fabric around her ring finger and ties it into a knot. It's the closest to a ring he can manage now. ]

[ In typical Bucky Barnes fashion, he doesn't seem to be either surprised or upset that she's somehow forgotten something absolutely integral to their plan. He doesn't quite smile at her, but his expression is gentle and perhaps even a little worried as he dips his hand into the pocket of his uniform, pulling out...

She recognizes that fabric. Part of her wants to scream at him for cutting up her mother's dress, but it's a small part. Sarah was taller than her daughter, and more full-figured, too, a lifetime without chronic illness giving her a healthy shape that she didn't lose until she contracted tuberculosis herself and wasted away in her bed. The dress hanging in their closet would never fit Stephanie, not without significant alterations. That Bucky trimmed a piece off isn't the end of the world, and she can even appreciate the sentiment, a little. ]

Bucky... [ Her voice is barely above a breath, shaky and emotional despite her best efforts, but she holds her hand steady and lets him tie the fabric around her finger.

The judge, either so inured to the routine of weddings that nothing at all could surprise him, or so used to seeing the poverty that runs rampant through this neighborhood, says nothing about their strange arrangement. Clearing his throat, he drones on in a monotone, apparently not even bothering to alter the wording of his script to account for their only having one ring and not two. ]

Your rings by their very shape are symbols of eternal unity without beginning or end. They are the emblem of the love that exists between you and characterize your devotion to one another. Let them always remind you of the commitments you make today.

Edited 2018-06-05 05:24 (UTC)

[ She breathes his name and it constricts his chest, makes his heart sputter, makes his lungs feel tight. Sends a rush along his skin that he can't quite explain. His voice had been steady but his fingers shake, now, as they quite literally tie the knot.

He barely hears the words their civil servant asks him to repeat, feels like he's speaking them of his own accord as he says: ]

With this ring I promise to grow with you, to build our love, to speak openly and honestly to listen to you, and to love and cherish you for all the days ahead. From this day forward you shall not walk alone. My heart will be your shelter and my arms will be your home. With this ring, I thee wed.

[ And with every word their judge says, Bucky's heart beats a little faster, because he knows what's coming up.

Now you will feel no rain, For each of you will be shelter for the other. Now you will feel no cold, For each of you will be warmth for the other. Now there is no loneliness for you, Now you are two persons but there is only one life before you.

You may kiss the bride.

And he does. He ducks in slowly but with purpose, hands still wrapped around hers, moving before he can think to talk himself out of it. Moving so that he doesn't get frozen in place an inch from her, moving faster than he'd have done it if it were just the two of them, but it happens nonetheless. His lips touch hers.

His heart beats twice, slow motion. He lingers. ]

[ Stephanie doesn't cry. She wants to, oh yes, but she doesn't let herself, blinking away any traitorous moisture that tries to well up in her eyes. She doesn't want Bucky to worry about her, to think that there's something wrong with her or that he's making a mistake, and she doesn't want to miss a single second of this moment. With him looking at her like that, she can pretend that he really, truly, abso-fucking-lutely means every word he says, in the spirit in which they are supposed to be said, that's he's not being kind and giving his perpetually ill friend a lifeline she would never be able to acquire without him.

She thinks she repeats what the judge prompts her to, but it's all a blur at this point. She knows what's coming, and she can't focus on anything else.

And sure enough, come it does.

She knows what Bucky looks like when he kisses someone. She's seen it countless times, usually in the dark of a dancehall or at the base of the steps when he's walking some girl home. The way his lips quirk, the way his eyes drift closed, the way his head tilts as he leans in with confidence, the easy was the dames he's charming melt against him. Stephanie had always wanted to shake those girls. Didn't they know, didn't they understand, they weren't special at all. Bucky could have had his pick of any girl in Brooklyn, and hardly ever took a girl out more than a handful of times before moving on to someone new. They weren't special at all. Swooning in his arms didn't make him want to stay with them, it just made them look weak and easily duped by a charming smile and a winsome word.

With Bucky leaning in to kiss her, Stephanie can finally understand how those girls felt.

She wants to fling her arms around his neck and wilt against his chest like any of the other dames he's put the moves on, letting out a breathy sigh against his lips and pretending not to notice the way his hand might migrate down to her backside, but their audience stops her from even entertaining the thought for too long. (It's a nice thought, though.) Instead, she clutches her fingers around his and tries to commit this moment to memory, leaning in closer to him, feeling the warm wash of his breath caressing her cheek, a tiny patch of stubble he missed shaving beneath his lip tickling her chin, the warm, slightly-dry press of his lips to hers.

She should probably pull away. She doesn't. ]

[ Time passes, he supposes. It doesn't stand still from an objective standpoint, but from is? The world is frozen and the only thing that exists is the point of contact between them. The way her lips are soft and dry, the way the press into his, the way she doesn't pull back. Dimly, he thinks, if she didn't want this and it wasn't real, wouldn't she have pulled back by now?

Delirious with rushing hormones and hope he surges forward a bit more, something desperately intentional. Presses in with urgency, and flicks just the tip of his tongue along her lower lip. Catches it with his teeth.

And around that time the judge behind them, wholly sick of this shit because they're about the four hundredth couple to do it, pointedly clears his throat to disturb the moment.

He jerks back as though slapped, flicking wild eyes toward the officiator and then back to her, something dark in the intensity of his look. ]

[ For a moment, the entire courthouse drops away.

She's aware of it, dimly, somewhere in the back of her mind, but right now her focus is entirely on the man in front of her, his huge hands enveloping hers, his lips coaxing and soft against hers, the unexpected jolt of his tongue touching her lip. His tongue, followed by his teeth catching on her lower lip when she gasps. Heat surges in her, unexpected and overwhelming, and she just starts to press closer when the judge makes a noise behind them and Bucky leaps back like he's been electrocuted.

The hot blush that suffuses her face couldn't be stopped even if she tried, and suddenly, she can't quite meet Bucky's eyes, ducking her head a little and touching the tip of her tongue to where his teeth had been.

They're asked to sign their marriage license, the slip of paper that will make all of this legal and concrete, And Stephanie can only be grateful that her hand doesn't shake as she takes the pen and carefully inscribes her full name on the space provided. Her maiden name, still — and oh, isn't that a weird feeling, having a maiden name now — as she needs the license to legally change her name to Barnes, although that can also apparently be done in the same building. She hands the pen to Bucky, finally daring to look up at him again, her heart in her throat.

This is real, now. ]

[ And so they leave, spurned quickly out by the officiator and witness, to sign the required paperwork. They do it quietly, both of them still humming, hearts still pounding, chests still on fire. All the emotions a properly newlywed couple probably ought to feel, and so no one looks at them any the wiser. They're exactly as their charade pretends to be, even if neither of them think it for the other.

But Bucky lets himself believe, for a while. Lets the surge of endorphins overtake him, lets himself get lost in the act. He pulls her from room to hall by the hand, never really letting it go for more than a minute at a time.

They change her name, they change their status, they change their lives, and he leads her out of the courthouse with a grin. They pass lines of unmarrieds waiting, people who shoot them fond looks and grip their fiances tighter hoping to look as happy as he does by the time they're through.

He whirls on her when their feet hits sidewalk. ]

We got one night, one honeymoon. What say we hit the town, huh? Go around to all the bars, tell 'em we just got hitched, rake in some free drinks while we got the chance?

[ Let him show off his new wife to every place he ever frequented, because this will be the only night he has to pretend it's real. ]

[ Stephanie has been following in Bucky's wake for years, letting herself be towed like a tugboat behind a cruise liner, utterly unable to stop where they're going and well aware of the futility of trying, resigning herself to simply enjoying the ride and dealing with the consequences later.

Part of her thinks she should keep herself in check, keep her reactions muted, keep a level head on her shoulders. But then Bucky's hand squeezes hers and he turns that infectious grin at her, and all her attempts at staying calm and collected fly out the window.

Clinging to his hand as tightly as he's holding hers, Steph does her best to keep up as Bucky hauls her through the courthouse, signing the forms to change her name, filing their paperwork with the city clerk's office, and then dashing out to the street. She feels a little bit like she did when they were kids, when they got away with some stupid little prank, giddy and disbelieving, her heart light enough in her chest to make her feel like she's floating. ]

Buck, we ain't exactly special for getting hitched. [ She rolls her eyes at him, unable to hide the equally broad grin splitting her face. ] 'Sides, what bar will give you a drink at ten am?

Edited 2018-06-23 05:01 (UTC)

[ The hell they ain't special for getting hitched, he thinks, everything is special about that. Her face, their hands, the kiss, the irrefutable laws that say they belong together and no one else. They're special, and if he has to tell everybody within earshot that then he certainly will.

Although she's right about one thing, they've got some time to kill before they can paint the town. And so he tugs her forward by the hand, ambling down the street anyway with no particular destination in mind. ]

Alright then, Mrs. Barnes, what's plan B?

[ Some of the manic energy seems to leave him at that, and while it's a little bit disappointing — seeing him so lit up by something that he had acted so blasé about not two hours ago made her feel equally like beaming despite her conviction to pretend that she wasn't too invested in this marriage lark — it also makes it a lot easier to keep up with him when he starts walking, those long legs shortening their stride out of habit so she doesn't have to hurry to keep pace with him.

Being so short and having to wear heels is such a pain in the ass. Sometimes Stephanie wishes she had been born male, like Bucky, but then again, if she had been a man, she certainly wouldn't be able to hear him call her Mrs. Barnes so...

Using her free hand to tuck her hair behind her ears, she shrugs. ]

We could go see a picture. Maybe get breakfast down at the diner. [ That would require spending money, though. Money that they don't really have. Money that she has to save for when he leaves and she can't rely on his factory wages to keep them afloat.

Her hand tightens in his, a cloud passing over her face. ]

Edited 2018-06-25 20:08 (UTC)

[ Picture or diner isn't a bad idea, he's not so worried about the money. He's about to go somewhere where all his meals and clothes are free, where all of his income can go to her and both of them can live semi-comfortably for some period of time. She may need to do the occasional job if things get scrappy, but for the most part she'll be okay. One night of celebrating won't set them back.

It's the cloud he sees pass over her face that stops him, a slight furrow in his brow. They slow to a stop there on the empty street, and it finally occurs to him that she might not be so happy about all this like he is. ]

Why the face? [ He asks solemnly, scrutinizing her for the truth of her answer. ]

What're you on about, this is just my face.

[ Still, he's standing there in the middle of the sidewalk, looking down at her with a furrow between his brows, and she hates having put that look on his face, especially when he had been so happy just a few seconds before.

She still has a hard time admitting why he was so happy, even to herself.

Instead, she sighs, her hand squeezing his again, this time for reassurance. ]

I gotta pinch my pennies, [ she admits, giving him as reassuring a smile as she can when she feels like her stomach has dropped out of her every time she thinks about Bucky going off to war. ] Can't live high on the hog forever, you know, not with you leaving soon.

[ Guess they weren't far from the same page, and his lips quirk up into something of a smirk for it. A hand comes up to gently bump her on the chin, just a little nudge. ]

One day ain't gonna hurt us, you know?

[ He tugs her into motion again. ]

C'mon. Lead the way. Wherever you wanna go, we go.

Easy for you to say, [ she huffs, though she's smiling as he chucks her under the chin. ]

Oh alright. It's your money. [ Technically now it's their money, even more so than it had been before. What's his is hers, after all, they just signed a bunch of papers to prove it.

Keeping her hand tucked securely in his, she leads him down the familiar streets of their neighborhood, suddenly unsure what she wants to do with their last day of freedom. There's nothing playing at the movies that she really wants to see, and her stomach is still feeling so unsettled from the butterflies of the morning that she doesn't really want to eat anything. What she really wants is to have today last forever so she doesn't have to live with the reality of watching him sail off to die on foreign shores.

She stops suddenly, tugging on his hand to make him stop with her. ] Let's go to Macy's.

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