Disclaimer: I own nothing except my constantly wandering imagination.

Note: This is technically a continuation of 'In Praise of Farmer's Daughters', the third story in my 'Better Days' collection. The rating is higher on this, so I posted it separately. You can read on without it, but there's a joke or two that might be better appreciated if you go back and read that first.

A Sure Thing

Specialist Butch O'neil was a mechanic at Fort McCoy where Bucky was going through the conveyor-like hell of Basic in an army at war. He was a bit older, and a lot wiser, and seemed to be a semi-permanent fixture at the fort. They'd met early on through a few acquaintances, and both shared a strong dislike and grudging respect for the acerbic and loud drill sergeants. Energetic and friendly, Butch had been invaluable to Bucky's adjustment to the uncomfortably strict military life.

Although Bucky had always been athletic, participating in a number of sports, and making frequent trips to the gym, the first rapid weeks of Basic Combat Training had worn him thin pretty quickly. It hadn't been so much the rigorous physical training as the stress of learning self-discipline - the rigid rules and schedules were definitely not something Bucky had ever experienced before - but he felt the strain of missing his best friend, too. Steve had always been there in hard times - but Butch had been there, too, quick to offer advice, or a hand, or simply a dirty joke when it seemed like everything was going nowhere, doubletime, and they'd become fast friends.

It was only when Bucky had finished Basic, and was waiting around before being sent off for three additional months to Advanced Combat Training in England with the SAS because of his exceptional leadership and unprecedented rifle skills, did he finally get to take a step back and breathe. He and a few of the other guys had received off-post passes, and they had suggested going out with some of the available civilian gals that sometimes worked in the Clerk's office and Bucky wholeheartedly agreed. It would be nice to be around some dames again, to smell perfume and the clean scent of starch instead of dirt, gun oil, and sweat. It'd also be nice to hear real music again, and not just the chanting cadences that echoed in his head even when he was asleep.

Bucky was coming back from the mess hall one morning, hands stuffed in his pockets, when Butch swaggered up to him, a wide white grin on his swarthy face.

"Hey, Barnes - heard you met Dori Anne last night."

Bucky nodded. "Yeah, uh, her cousin Wes introduced us. She's one of the typists, right? We're going out dancing tonight - I take it you know her?"

Butch looked cagey. "Um...kinda'. In a...way. Y-you're takin' her out?"

"Yeah. Why?" Bucky asked, immediately suspicious. You had to watch it around here - just because it was a military fort, didn't mean it kept the real jokesters from trying to pull the occasional prank. He wouldn't even put Butch past a little hazing, knowing how little time he had left at the fort.

"Nothin'," Butch answered convincingly. "She's...some looker, that dame."

Bucky smiled, rocking back on his boot heels. "Yeah, believe me, I noticed. She seems nice, though - maybe a little shy for a redhead."

Butch coughed. "Yeah, I heard she's, uh...a real generous person."

Bucky scratched the dark, bristling hairs on his neck uncertainly, mostly because Butch was still grinning widely and it was making him feel nervous. "Uh...that's great. I'm sure we'll have a good time."

"Oh, yeah, definitely. I've heard she really likes...dancing. Do me a favor, pal, let me know how it went."

A sudden thought occurred, and Bucky blinked. "Hey, you got a thing for her? I didn't - "

Butch waved his oversized laborers hands. "No, no. I'm just...curious. She's...uh, kinda' mysterious, y'know."

Bucky didn't see it. "Huh. Really?"

Butch bit his lip, and then clapped Bucky on his shoulder before he turned to walk away. "Just remember to wear your dress uniform….and have fun, man. I'll see ya' later."

Bucky nodded uncertainly and continued on his way, feeling like he was definitely missing something. "Sure thing, buddy."

"That's what I hear," Butch chuckled quietly to himself.

"Holy shit - !"

Bucky slammed up against the driver's side door of the car he'd borrowed for his date with Dori Anne, and fumbled for the handle - but a slender hand beat him to it and pushed the lock into place.

Bucky stared at the lock with wide eyes. He was used to girls chasing him, but this was damn ridiculous!

"Dori - !"

The friendly but reserved redhead he'd met the day before slid into his lap and grabbed either side of his jaw, delivering an enthusiastic, open-mouthed kiss that made his heart race and sweat bead at his temple. When she finally eased off to breathe, Bucky's hat was gone, his short, dark hair was thoroughly mussed, and he couldn't even find words to speak.

Dori Anne was breathing heavy, her naturally red lips bright and swollen against her pale, moonlit skin. Her thick red hair fell in soft waves to her naked shoulders, and she pushed it back to smile at him, hazel eyes bright in the shadows, her white teeth even and sharp.

Bucky couldn't look away even if his first impulse had been to run. Contrary to popular belief, he didn't run around hopping into bed with every attractive woman he took out. He was only recently twenty-five, and despite his reputation as a smooth ladies man, he strongly believed it was best to wait until marriage - most of the time.

Alright, truthfully, more like fifty percent of the time - but he was still careful and conscientious about it. He tried to behave the way his mother had raised him, and he never completely lost his head around dames - but if one could make him cast all caution to the wind, this naughty redhead would be the one to do it.

He'd picked her up at her family home at eight, even said a friendly hello to her seemingly unconcerned mother on the porch, and Dori Anne had seemed just as sweet as she'd been the day before. They'd gone for a quick dinner, then dancing and for a few drinks, and it had been fun, and simple, just what the doctor ordered after all the rigid training he'd gone through the past weeks - but it was when she'd eagerly but quietly suggested going to a nice quiet spot near the woods to park and chat, that Bucky had gotten really interested.

The instant he'd parked the car and turned the engine off, she'd attacked him. Quite literally.

Bucky had rarely met a woman who made the first move - or so many of the ones after the first. She'd dragged his head down to hers, kissing him thoroughly, and making him dazedly think he was glad she hadn't had to bother with lipstick - he'd look like a goddamn rodeo clown. He'd pulled back forcefully after a minute, blue eyes dark with arousal and shock, and caught her already slipping his tie off and unbuttoning his uniform shirt.

"D-Dori Anne," he'd sputtered, red faced, and tried to capture her inhumanly fast, red-tipped fingers in his. All he could think of was that he was somehow, suddenly channeling Steve.

"Oh, Bucky, you feel amaaazing," the redhead murmured huskily, blinking coyly before dropping her head to kiss and lick his neck below his ear.

For a second he'd closed his eyes, leaning into it, with a small, dopey smile and a helpless longing sound caught in his throat, and then he made himself open his eyes and reach up to grab her shoulders.

"Doll, just what are you doing?" he'd asked loudly, frowning.

Dori Anne had lifted her head and smirked at him. "If you don't know by now, Barnes…" she'd said throatily and trailed off.

Bucky scowled. "Are you serious? I meant, what are you thinking? Did I do anything tonight that made you feel like you had to do this?"

Dori Anne had laughed lowly. "Bucky, don't be silly, you aren't making me feel like I have to do anything - well. Not verbally, anyway, although your voice is lovely," she'd sighed, biting her lip and looking him slowly up and down. "I only do what I feel like doing - and I've wanted to do this ever since I first saw you."

Bucky had gulped at the sexy purr in her voice, still shocked at the change in her personality. "Are you - I mean, do you really - listen, Dori - "

She'd cut him off, kissing him again, only this time her slender, warm fingers dragged down his shirtfront and then headed to his belt. There was a quick clink of metal, and then she'd had her fingers on his trouser buttons.

Bucky had felt his mouth fall open as she slid her fingers inside the opening and touched him through his drawers...at which point he'd, well...panicked a little and tried to escape.

Now she was firmly ensconced in his lap, and he was breathing like he'd just come off a ten mile run, full gear and all. Only now her jacket was gone, her soft ivory blouse was somewhere around her waist, and her very feminine bra was hugging onto her full, round breasts by what had to be simply the grace of God.

"Why so reluctant, Bucky?" Dori asked in a teasing whisper. "Wait - you aren't a virgin, are you? Never mind, it doesn't matter."

Bucky wasn't sure if he should feel offended or not. "Listen, Dori - wait. You aren't? You've done this before?" he asked faintly.

Dori Anne laughed again. "I have. Not as many times as you probably think. I have a…thing for handsome, smooth brunettes in dress uniform, I guess. I might have...a slight reputation at the base. But, I don't mind. All the men I've been with have been - mostly - very considerate. I don't throw myself at just any pretty boy soldier, Barnes. They have to be calm, confident, honest. They have to have something I really, really want first."

Bucky's eyebrows jumped into his hairline as she reached down and touched him again, finding exactly what she'd been after the first time. He closed his eyes, groaning reluctantly, and let his head fall back on the seat at her gentle but insistent touch.

"Your father wouldn't happen to be a dairy farmer, would he?" he asked roughly.

"Why, yes. How'd you know?"

Bucky smirked. Damn if Steve had been right about the milkmaids…

"Dori, listen, I really don't know about this - "

"I know you're a good man, Bucky Barnes. I appreciate that you're only trying to do the right thing, but - I formally give you permission to stop acting like such a gentleman," Dori Anne told him lightly, lips on his throat. She nibbled, and then sucked at his adam's apple, making his breath get rougher. "If you're still worried, I promise you, I really am a good girl. I may know what I want, but...I'm not some cheap, sleazy broad. I'm careful, and I know how to protect myself. I also know you're heading to overseas soon. I probably won't get to see much of you 'til then, either. So just relax, and please let me enjoy you. I'll give you a very nice memory to take with you."

Bucky was almost beyond thought at this point. She was kissing his throat and the part of his chest exposed above his undershirt tenderly, kissing his dog tags with what seemed like quiet reverence. All the while her hand was busy below, making his skin tingle wildly all over.

"Touch me," Dori whispered, and his hands grabbed her around the waist, pulling her hips forward, her legs on either side of his waist as he slid over to the passenger side away from the damn interfering steering wheel. Dori gasped as he pulled her down to kiss her, hard, taking control in an instant. He slid his hands up from her waist to her breasts, edging away the soft fabric there, and taking her warm weight into his hands gratefully.

Dori Anne whimpered, apparently pleased, and surprised at his sudden dominance. She sighed when he pushed her back and buried his face in her neck as he gently caressed her.

Bucky was willing now, but he wasn't stupid, either. He didn't have anything on him, so there was no way he was going inside her. He would never risk it - running off and leaving a girl in trouble, especially at this uncertain time in his life. But he definitely wasn't going to leave her - or himself - wanting, either.

"Lift your skirt up," he murmured roughly near her ear, rubbing his thumbs across her stiff nipples, and she jerked in surprise before letting out a shaky breath and reaching down to pull up the tailored hem. When she situated it around the tops of her thighs, he put his mouth where his hands had been, and ran his hands up and over the silky seamed stockings she wore. She panted when he found the tender, soft skin above them, and delved deeper, higher, finding only downy fluff and heat - she wore only stockings and garters, and he hissed in instant male satisfaction when his fingertips melted right into her.

"Holy shit," Bucky said again, only this time, he groaned the words.

Dori Anne chuckled throatily, then she sighed. "Oh, yes."

Bucky urged her to explore him again with her deft little hands, and had the stray thought that he could barely even feel the cold, late-winter night outside their windows before he stopped thinking at all and let himself get lost in touching her, and being touched in return. Unfortunately, it had been a while for either of them, and it wasn't too long before the interior of the car erupted in soft cries and sharp gasps, and Dori Anne melted against his chest, shivering with delicious completion.

When normal thought returned, Bucky buried his nose in her sweetly-scented hair for a long minute, and then sighed deeply, retrieving the neatly folded square of fabric from his breast pocket to neaten himself and her hand. He had to shake his head - his nicely tailored dress uniform was getting too much abuse for him having received it only a little over a week before.

Bucky straightened his clothing out, helping her pull down her slightly restraining skirt before lifting her gently off his lap and sliding back over to the driver's side. He re-buttoned his shirt, teasingly tugged his tie out from under the softly giggling girl and then knotted it on, and then retrieved his fallen hat. She stopped him when he went to put it on, fetching a small comb from her handbag, and he waited patiently, half-smiling as she combed his short, tangled hair back into it's usual neat order. Then she took his hat, and plopped it on his head, making sure to tilt it rakishly.

Bucky shook his head at her, running dark, hot eyes over her still exposed bosom. "Man, but you make me want to do all the bad things," he told her, his voice deep and growling.

Dori Anne looked like she wouldn't mind, either, but then she squinted down at the delicate watch on her wrist and sighed, pulling her bra back on, and then her blouse, smoothing out wrinkles as she buttoned it up. She adjusted the collar, slipped back into her tailored jacket, and settled back into the seat, carefully combing her curls into order. She ran her fingers over her swollen lips, glancing back at him heatedly, and then smiled ruefully.

"It's getting late. I should get home before Mother worries."

Bucky cleared his throat, making himself look away from the tempting sight of her, and reached for the wheel, starting the car and putting the headlights back on. He put one arm along the back of the seat, intending to back out of the spot they'd been in - but he hesitated, and looked back over at her.

"Dori...I hope you understand why I couldn't - I mean, I wanted - "

Dori Anne shushed him, her eyes glittering above her heated cheeks. "I understand, of course I do - and I appreciate it. You did what you thought best…and I don't have a single complaint, I think you felt that." She laughed when he winked.

"You're a good man, Bucky," she told him again, her voice ringing with sincerity. "In fact, I almost wish…"

Bucky reached across the seat and took her hand in his, squeezing gently. He met her eyes and smiled lopsidedly. "I know," he assured her. "Me too."

The next day Bucky was quickly sought out by Butch O'neil.

"So?" Butch asked, coming up on Bucky's left.

Bucky paused in what he was doing and looked over at the man. "So, what?" he asked calmly.

"How'd it go with Dori Anne?" the other man asked eagerly.

Bucky gave him a deliberately obtuse smile. Make sure you wear your dress uniform, indeed. Smug bastard.

"She's a sweet kid," Bucky told him. "We had a nice time. It's too bad we probably won't get to go...dancing again before I leave."

Butch frowned. "Dancing?"

Bucky nodded. "Yeah, Butch, dancing. That thing you do with your feet. To music. What are you all twitchy about?"

The other man's eye ticked as he stared at Bucky intently. "You mean...you were just dancing...not...dancing-dancing?"

Bucky lifted a brow.

Butch finally huffed and took a step back. "Just dancing, huh?" He rubbed his chin, and then shrugged, clearly disappointed he was missing out on some juicy piece of gossip. "Well, guess I heard wrong."

Bucky stepped up aggressively and asked suspiciously, "Heard what, wrong?"

Butch blanched, but came back with a quick smile and a shake of his head. "Oh, it's nothing, man. I'm glad you two had a good time."

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. "Yeah, we really did - but...wait, you're a brunette under the cap, right?"

Butch frowned in confusion. "Yeah, Pal, you know I am. Why?"

Bucky shrugged. "All I know is, she's got this - thing for brunettes in dress uniform."

Butch scraped his cap off and rubbed thoughtful fingers over his dark, short curls. "Oh, yeah? I think I heard that somewhere. Is that so?"

"Definitely. Hey, she's gonna be awfully lonely after the lot of us move out." Bucky made a show of shrugging again. "You know, you may even wanna'...take her dancing sometime."

He certainly knew he'd never look at dancing the same way ever again.

Butch smiled tentatively. "Hey, yeah. So...she is a nice girl, right?"

Bucky nodded. "A very nice girl," he said seriously, "so treat her right - or I'll come back and kick your ass."

The other soldier nodded. "Of course, of course. Me. Take her dancing. I can dress up. Yeah, why not? I clean up nice. That's a fine idea, Barnes."

Bucky grinned, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, I know. Watch out for that dame though - you gotta' be careful to keep up with her. She has the tendency to wanna' take the lead, but she's one hell of a dancer."

A/N: Bucky-smut. ::sigh:: I am so hopeless. BTW, my military knowledge is next to nil, but I tried my best. This takes place well before the events of CA:TFA - Bucky isn't even a Sergeant yet. By the time he gets back to Brooklyn, I bet that uniform has seen things...hee. Hope this made somebody smile. :) Thanks so much for stopping by to read this.