October 1936

A gray October sky was painted above the buildings of Brooklyn, New York. There was a slight nip in the air that rustled the white lace curtains in Elizabeth Barnes's small upstairs bedroom. Elizabeth, fondly known as Libby, tugged on a cardigan for warmth. Libby was the middle daughter of George and Winnifred Barnes. She was seventeen, nearly eighteen years old. Her parents used to refer to her as their Christmas present because she had been born on Christmas Eve of 1918.

Walking across her room, she stopped in front of her vanity and checked her appearance. Her brown hair was already coiffed for today's special occasion, a funeral. Libby would be attending the funeral of her friend's mother later. Mrs. Rogers had died of tuberculosis after years of working in the tuberculosis wing at the hospital. She left behind her only son Steve. Not only did she consider Steve a friend, but she hoped one day to marry him. Libby Barnes loved Steve Rogers and that was no secret. Well, to everyone but Steve. He was completely oblivious to Libby's' affections. He just thought she was being friendly.

Libby sighed and chewed her bottom lip as her brown eyes stared back at her in the mirror. She was missing something. When she realized what it was, she opened the top drawer of her bureau and pulled out a small box. The box contained the string of pearls her parents had given her on her Confirmation Day. The pearls had once belonged to her mother. Money had been a little tight at the time and they couldn't afford new ones. But Libby loved them all the same.

She strung the pearls across her neck and put on the matching earrings before examining herself once more in the mirror. Libby continued to chew her lip. She knew it was a bad habit, but it was a habit she couldn't seem to break. Libby sighed and ran her fingers across the pearls. She knew that it was hardly appropriate given the circumstances, but she hoped that Steve thought she looked pretty.

Libby picked up the framed photograph on her vanity. It was a picture of her, Steve, and Bucky taken at Coney Island. When they were younger, Bucky, Libby's older brother hadn't been happy with her obsession with his best friend. But in truth, Steve was a friend to both of them. Libby wasn't like most other girls in that she didn't have a close female friend. Libby had her brother and Steve. And truthfully, that was all she needed.

She smiled softly as she set the photograph back down and opened the top drawer of her bureau once more. She pulled out a letter. It was a letter she had written months ago. It was addressed to Steve. She had never given it to him because in it, she professed her feelings for him and in the post-script, she even dared to go so far as to tell him that she loved him.

"Where do you think you're going so early?" Bucky asked as Libby quickly shoved the letter back in her bureau. She then eyed her brother. His hair was disheveled from having just woken up. He wasn't fully awake yet. Which was made clear by him widening his eyes several times, yawning, and stretching.

"Where do you think I'm going?" Libby retorted with her hands on her hips. "You know exactly where I'm going."

Bucky sighed and leaned against the doorframe, looking at his sister rather pointedly. "Steve said he wanted to be alone, Elizabeth," Bucky said her full name Elizabeth, just to annoy her.

Libby arched an eyebrow at her brother. "And you believed him?" She shook her head and examined her reflection in the mirror once more. She smoothed her hair with her hand. "He just lost his mother, James…" Libby purposely used the name her brother didn't like to go by, just to annoy him.

Bucky rolled his eyes. "You'll see him at the church for the service."

Libby then turned to look at her brother with her hands on her hips. "I don't care what you choose to do, but he could really use a friend right now. So, I'm going to him with some breakfast. Lord knows he probably hasn't been eating much. A friend wouldn't let him starve himself."

"Friend, huh?" Bucky scoffed. "You've wanted to be more than a friend to Steve Rogers for years now."

Libby blushed and continued to busy herself with her hair, which already perfectly coiffed. She knew Bucky was trying to goad her. She knew she should ignore him and she tried. But it didn't last. "I don't know to what you are referring to," she said rather hotly, slipping hat pins into her cardigan pocket.

Bucky chuckled and shook his head. "You don't have to pretend I don't know, Libby. I know you're sweet on Steve. I mean, you're bringing him breakfast." He paused and looked at his sister with a teasing glint in his eye. "Which I hope you aren't making. Because that might actually kill him before starvation would set in."

Swiftly, Libby picked up her hairbrush and aimed it at her brother. He laughed as he deflected the brush with his arms and it fell to the ground. She looked at her brother incredulously. "My cooking isn't that bad!"

"Rexy won't even eat your cooking, Libby. And that dog eats almost everything." Rexy was the stray dog that roamed their street but always stopped by the Barnes' place for a meal or two every day. The last time Libby had tried to make flapjacks, Bucky slipped his plate to Rexy, but even Rexy wouldn't eat the flapjacks.

"No pithy response, Libby?" Bucky teased. He enjoyed teasing his sister and he did so frequently. But the terrible cooking was completely true.

Folding her arms across her chest, Libby muttered, "I was going to swing by the bakery first."

Bucky chuckled and bridged the distance between them. He rested his hand on his sister's shoulder. "That's probably for the best, little sister." He grinned. Libby rolled her eyes and pushed him away. Bucky laughed. "You know I'm right, Libby."

Libby rolled her eyes again. She hated when her brother got cocky. While he did have a point, she would never admit it. She would never hear the end of it from Bucky if she did. So, instead, she grabbed her gloves that were set on the vanity before she gave her brother's arm a whack with them.

Bucky chuckled as his sister walked past him. "Libby, wait," he called. She stopped and turned toward him. He walked into his room without saying anything. Libby arched an eyebrow at him. He then held his hand out toward her with money in it. "Steve wouldn't like you using your own money on him."

"I made my money and I'm allowed to spend it on whatever or whomever I choose," Libby said stubbornly. She made her own money mending clothes and making quilts. She was already a gifted seamstress at nearly eighteen. Better at sewing than she was cooking.

"And I'm saying that Steve is gonna want you to save your money. Just save yourself the argument today, Libby."

She knew Bucky was right. She reluctantly took the money from Bucky's hand and slipped it into her cardigan pocket. She patted her pocket and then side-stepped her brother. Libby looked over her shoulder and winked at her brother before she disappeared down the stairs."Bye!"

"I want some money back, Libby!" Bucky called after her, despite knowing that he likely wasn't going to get any money back from her. Although, he knew she was going to spend it on Steve, so he had no reason to be angry with her later. Steve needed it more than he did.

Libby was greeted downstairs by her mother and father. They were enjoying a cup of coffee at the breakfast table. "Good morning, Elizabeth," her mother greeted. Mother always called her by her first name, not her nickname. Libby kissed her mother's cheek and then did the same to her father.

"Did you see the letter from Rebecca?" her father asked, not looking up from his newspaper. Rebecca was her younger sister who was away at boarding school in upstate New York. She wouldn't be able to make it for Steve's mother's funeral. Rebecca wasn't as close to Steve and Libby and Bucky.

Libby chuckled and kissed her father's cheek again. "You asked me that at dinner, Pop."

"Just checking, Libby." He softly smiled before he took another sip of his coffee.

"Don't slouch, Elizabeth," her mother gently chided. Libby was always too much of a tomboy for her mother's liking. Mrs. Barnes loved her daughter, but sometimes she feared that she would never be ladylike enough to find a husband. The only boy that never seemed to mind was Steve Rogers. And like her daughter, Mrs. Barnes put all her eggs in one basket as far as her daughter and Steve Rogers were concerned. Steve was likely her daughter's only hope.

Standing straight, Libby smoothed out her jacket and skirt. "Well, I'm going to go see Steve," she announced to her parents. "He probably hasn't had a decent meal since before..."

"You're not planning on cooking, are you?" Mrs. Barnes asked, concern clearly evident in her tone.

"You too?" Libby groaned, throwing her head back.

"How about I make something for you to bring over?' Mrs. Barnes suggested, ignoring her daughter's comment. She quickly stood to her feet and Libby reached out and grabbed her mother's arm.

"I was going to stop at the bakery on my way over," Libby told her mother.

"Oh thank, God," Mrs. Barnes said breathing a sigh of relief. Mr. Barnes chuckled from the table. Libby looked at both of her parents and shook her head.

"Is it really that bad?"

Mr. Barnes quickly picked up his coffee cup and took a long sip of coffee so that he didn't have to answer. Mrs. Barnes gently rubbed her daughter's arm and smiled softly. "We'll just have to keep practicing, sweetheart."

Libby sighed and shook her head. Her mother smiled at her before she kissed her cheek. "Give Steve our love, will you?" Libby nodded her head. "Tell him we'll see him at the service." She nodded her head again. "Which is where I assume we'll see you again?"

After another nod of her head, Libby wiggled free of her mother's arm and headed for the front door. "Behave, Elizabeth!" Mrs. Barnes called after her.

Libby rolled her eyes and reached for the door handle. "Yes, Mother."

"And don't forget your hat!"

There were times when she certainly disliked being a lady. Libby grabbed her hat that was hanging near the door and escaped out the front door before her mother called after her again. Once she was outside, Libby pulled her hat onto her head and her gloves onto her hands before she made her way to the bakery to find something suitable for Steve to eat.

Libby arrived at Steve Roger's apartment carrying a paper sack with bread and pastries and another sack with meats and cheeses. The local shop owners had heard she was going to see Steve and sent her with food for him, for free. She hadn't even needed to spend a penny of Bucky's money. Their neighborhood had a strong sense of community and looked out for each other during hard times, despite the fact that many of them were already enduring hardships.

She peered through the window into the apartment. The door to the bedroom was open and Libby could see Steve still sleeping. She hadn't anticipated needing to wake him. Libby tried turning the door handle, but it was locked. So, she set the bags down in front of the door and back-tracked to the brick on the landing. Libby slid the brick with her foot before she bent down and grabbed the key. She unlocked the door and put the key back where it belonged before she walked into the apartment with the bags.

Her view from the window had not revealed much of the state of the apartment. Then again, Libby noticed Steve sleeping and hadn't looked much further. The place was a mess. Steve usually kept the place very neat and orderly, this was out of the ordinary for him. But he probably hadn't had much time for housework given the circumstances. Poor thing. He probably wasn't holding it together as well as he let on.

Libby put the paper sacks on the counter before she walked to Steve's room to wake him. He actually looked peaceful sleeping there. Although, he was in need of a bath or perhaps it was the sheets that needed a good washing. Clearly, he was in need of a little help and Libby was more than willing to offer her services, mostly because she knew it would mean spending more time with him.

As Libby approached the bed, she wanted to reach out and run her fingers through Steve's hair. But she refrained. They were nothing more than friends, despite Libby's desires to be more and she could never seem to bring herself to tell him otherwise. She simply kept hoping that he would wake up one day and realize he was in love with her too.

Libby placed her hand on Steve's shoulder and gently shook him. "Steve. Steve, wake up," she called. His face scrunched as he buried his head further in the pillows. Libby chewed her lip before she shook him a little harder. "Steve. Steve."

That seemed to wake him, although Libby hadn't anticipated that he would leap from his bed and pin her against the wall by her shoulders. His face was so close to her that she could have kissed him, but she didn't. Instead, she watched as his moment of confusion turned into realization. "Libby?" he asked, breathing somewhat raggedly. "What are you doing here?"

"I brought you breakfast," Libby responded, enjoying the slight pressure on her shoulders from his hands. She glanced at his hands, but that made him realize that he was holding onto her. His eyes widened in slight horror before he quickly removed his hands and shoved them in his pants pockets. He hadn't changed from the day before.

"Look, Libby, I appreciate what you're trying to do but…"

Libby took her index finger and pressed it against his lips, shushing him. "No buts, Steve. Quit being so stubborn. From the look of things, you could do with a little help and I want to help you."

Steve sighed and hung his head a little. He then looked up at her. "You didn't cook it, did you? Buck's told me stories…"

With a flabbergasted expression on her face, Libby put her gloved hands on her hips and looked at Steve incredulously. Steve gave her a very slight, tired smile. Libby rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I'll have you know that I stopped at the bakery on my way over. Although, I suppose I should be glad my cooking gave you a reason to smile."

Steve gave another tired smile and nodded his head. He ran his fingers through his hair before he looked at the clock on his windowsill. His brow furrowed. "What time is it?" he asked Libby.

Libby glanced at the clock. It had stopped working hours ago. She placed her hands on his shoulders and turned him around. She started walking him toward the bathroom. "It's time for you to get washed up. You can't go to…" Libby paused. While she knew that he knew where they were going, she didn't want to be so blunt as to remind him in such a way. "You can't go out like this," she finished softly.

She pushed him into the bathroom and was about to shut the door for him when he turned and looked at her. They eye levels matched each other. "Wait, Libby," he said, his voice sounding awfully serious.

"Yes?" she asked, leaning her face against the door and smiling sweetly at him, batting her eyelashes. Libby knew now was not the time to try and charm Steve, but he brought out this side to her that she could hardly seem to control.

"How'd you get in?" Steve asked. "I mean, I locked the door before I went to sleep last night...at least, I think I did. Unless you've taken up lock-picking..."

Libby looked at him and chuckled, "Do you honestly think I don't know about the key under the brick outside your door? Rather obvious if you ask me."

Steve's mouth formed an 'o' as he understood what she was telling him. Libby smiled. She always enjoyed making him speechless. She motioned with her hands for him to do what he needed to do before she closed the door.

Libby then leaned against the closed door and sighed. She couldn't help but imagine that this was their home and that this was what it might feel like being married to Steve. She could easily see him getting ready and her getting breakfast on the table, maybe one day with a few kids underfoot. It seemed a rather simple life, but it was a life Libby had longed for...for years. She just hoped that Steve one day felt the same.

After one last sigh, Libby pushed herself off the door and walked back to the main room. She took her gloves off and began to clean up a little. She didn't mind. It wasn't only because she was sweet on him, as Bucky would say, but because she knew that if the situations had been reversed, Steve would have been there for her and Bucky. Steve was a good, kind-hearted person. That was one of the many things Libby admired about Steve Rogers.

Once the table was cleared, Libby washed a few dishes before she set it for breakfast, just as she had been taught since she was very young. She then pushed her cardigan sleeve up her arm a little to reveal a wristwatch left to her by a great aunt. Her brow furrowed. Steve was going to need to hurry. Libby called for him. "Steve!"

A few moments later, Steve entered the main living area. He was dressed for the day, but his hair was still wet from having washed it. He had a towel slung around his shoulders to keep the water from dripping onto his clothes. Each of his hands held onto an end of the towel as he peered over at the table to see the spread Libby had prepared. "Thanks, Libby. I really appreciate you doing this for me."

Libby eyed him carefully and pursed her lips. "I'm sensing a but."

His lips almost made it into a small smile. Had the pain from losing his mother not been so raw, he would have smiled. Instead, he nodded his head. "But I'm just not all that hungry. I haven't had much of an appetite since..." His words trailed off and his expression saddened.

But Libby had anticipated him expressing as much. "You don't have to eat it all," she said softly. "I just didn't know what you'd want, so I put it all out. You gotta eat something, Steve. You're gonna need some strength today." She gave him a soft, meaningful smile.

Steve sighed and nodded his head. He walked to the table and pulled out a chair. "Then how about you join me?" He motioned for her to sit. While Libby wanted to accept, she also didn't want to appear to be too eager. Steve must have realized this because before she could say anything he said, "C'mon, Libby. I'm not eating this all by myself. It'd be a shame to waste the kindness people have shown."

Steve knew exactly what to say to get her to accept. It would have been a terrible shame to waste food. Times had been hard the last several years and they had learned not to waste what they had been given. So, Libby sat down on the chair he offered her and he sat down on the chair beside her. Again, Libby couldn't help but feel that this was what it might one day be like to be married to him. Some might call her a silly girl with a silly fantasy, but Libby thought of it as knowing what she wanted.

Steve took a pastry off the plate before he picked the plate up and held it up for Libby to grab something. She grabbed a pastry and set it down on a plate. She watched as he reached for a coffee cup when her eyes widened in horror. She had forgotten to make the coffee. She opened her mouth to apologize, but Steve held up his hand to stop. "It's fine, Lib." He eyed the fresh milk on the table and reached for it. "I-I think I'd prefer a glass of milk anyway."

He poured himself some milk and took a sip of milk before he made eye contact with her again. Libby knew that despite whatever Steve was feeling right now, he was still going out of his way to make her feel better. Her. Another thing she loved about Steve Rogers. Her list could probably go on forever.

They finished their pastries in silence. Steve then stood up and walked back into his room. He came back with a tie and jacket. Steve stopped in front of the mirror in the main room and attempted to tie his tie as Libby put away the food. But Steve couldn't seem to manage the tie. Libby walked over to him. "Here, let me."

Steve stopped and sighed before he turned toward Libby. Libby smiled at him and reached up to grab his tie. "I'll let you in on a secret," Libby said as she worked Steve's tie. "Bucky doesn't know how to do his either. He has Pop do them first." She paused and made eye contact with him. "Don't let him tell you otherwise."

He blinked and nodded his head.

Libby then smoothed out his tie. "There." Her brown eyes met his blue ones. "You ready?" she whispered.

His eyes glistened as he cast his eyes downward. "I don't know that one is actually ever ready for something like this," Steve responded his tone rather dour.

Libby gently tipped his chin back up with her finger. "But you don't have to do this alone, Steve. You've always been there for me...and Bucky." She hastily added her brother's name before she cleared her throat. "Let us be there for you. If the tables were turned you likely wouldn't let us rid ourselves of you." Libby smiled softly at him.

Steve didn't say anything. He shoved his hands in his pants pockets and nodded his head. It was obvious he was in pain. Libby wished she could take his pain for him, or at least help lessen the load. But she also knew that Steve wouldn't want to impose and trouble her. She would have to do her best to convince him. Libby glanced down at her wristwatch once more.

"We'd best be leaving."

Steve sighed and nodded his head. Libby knew that despite his pleasant demeanor toward her, he was battling something inside. This was likely to be one of the hardest days of his life and she was going to be there for him. Libby watched as Steve shrugged on his jacket and crossed the room to the door. He opened it and motioned of Libby to go first. Always a gentleman.

Libby crossed the room and walked out of the apartment. She pulled on her gloves once more as Steve locked the door with the key normally hidden under the brick. He then put the key back. In silence, they walked down the outside stairs to find the Barnes family car parked in the alley. Libby smiled as Bucky waved for them to get in the car from the backseat behind their parents.

Steve's brow furrowed.

"I told you, let us be there for you." Libby smiled. "You think we're bothersome now, ignore us and it will get worse. Trust me."

Steve visibly sighed, his shoulders sinking a bit. He looked at Libby, who was staring at him waiting for a response. Rather reluctantly, he nodded his head agreeing to a ride to the church with the Barnes family. The ride to the church was a rather silent affair, but they would get through it...together.

Author's Note: I blame the people of Tumblr for encouraging this plot bunny, especially notcarlsjr. (On that note, go read their Steve x OC fic Reality in Motion) I also blame Nixdragon who beta-ed it. Thank you to those of you who have taken a chance on Libby!