So he tried to go. Four times, in fact, in four different locations. No matter where he claimed he was from, he was always classified as too frail to serve. He knew guys who'd kill to be classified as 4F, who desperately wanted to avoid the draft. He would gladly give one of those guys the chance to stay behind if he could just go in his place. Steve had never asked for anything in his entire life; why was he being denied the one thing he wanted if it was only to serve others?

After his latest rejection, Steve decided to head to a theater nearby to watch the latest cartoon reel and take his mind off everything. He had a few nickels to spare from helping around Shilsky's (he had only done it once or twice and believed he had barely done anything, but Mr. Shilsky insisted in a couple of dollars and some food. Why not spend it on something recreational for once?

Unfortunately, the theater also screened propaganda reels and public service announcements urging people to help any way they could on the home front, including finding work in factories and donating metal. At the sight of the little boy wheeling around his little wagon full of metal on the screen, Steve saw his fate flash before his eyes. Laboring over building weapons, ships, and aircrafts for others to use, or – god forbid – becoming that child. Confined to simply sending away all his metal goods – which he didn't even have much of in the first place. And then what? Continuing his sorry life, only now without his oldest friend?

He was pulled from his thoughts when the jerk sitting in the row below him thought it would be funny to interrupt with his demands for cartoons. With everything else that had gone wrong that day, Steve had to get him to stop; he had such a nerve being so disrespectful. And just like every time he tried to do some good by standing up to bullies, he got himself hauled into the alley and a punch to the face. He went right for the trash can lid right away, though, so he bought himself more time before he went down.

"You just don't know when to give up, do ya?" The jerk taunted, his eyes flaming.

"I can do this all day." Steve attempted a swing, but the jerk caught it and punched him right in the nose with his other hand, causing Steve to fall face-first into the trash cans.

"Hey!" He recognized Bucky's voice and he relaxed slightly, and felt a pocket of wind over his shoulder when the jerk was pulled away. "Pick on someone your own size."

"How's about twice your size?" Moira bellowed, the sharp slap of her back-handing the jerk across the face piercing his eardrums. The jerk swung a punch; he missed, and Bucky took the opportunity to lay a punch of his own. As the jerk knew he was in for it now, he ran and managed to get out – but not before Bucky landed a swift kick on his sorry rear.

Steve attempted to lift himself up, but Moira rushed to his side and helped him. Bucky chuckled. "Sometimes, I think you like getting punched."

Moira watched as Steve shook out his hands and wiped his bloody nose with his coat sleeve – she handed him a handkerchief, but he shook his head. "I had him on the ropes."

"I know you did," she insisted, smoothing down the surprisingly nice tweed dress she wore. She also wore makeup; he had never seen her wear any before. "He doesn't."

"Then you wouldn't have been smelling the garbage up-close." He smirked. "Where'd you meet him?"

"The movie theater." Steve craned his head in the direction of it, as if it were obvious.

Bucky bent over and picked up Steve's enlistment cards. "How many times is this?"

"Four." Moira bit her lip. "Oh...that wasn't supposed to be answered."

"You're from Paramus now? You know it's illegal to lie on the enlistment form." He scoffed at the card. "And seriously, Jersey?"

"Jersey's nice – got family friends down there." Moira wrung her hands together, eying his uniform.

"I'd rather go to war than live in Jersey." Bucky tugged on his jacket and smirked.

Steve gave him a strange look. "You get your orders?"

Moira smiled uneasily and scurried to Bucky's side, who was smiling proudly. "The one-oh-seventh. Sergeant James Barnes, shipping out for England first thing tomorrow."

Steve's heart clenched. He had known Bucky was going off for a long time now. He had always just accepted it; after all, if he couldn't go, then at least his best friend could serve for the both of them. But...the 107th. His father's infantry. Where he was supposed to be. He wasn't about to have an asthma attack, but for just a moment, he found it hard to breathe. He looked down, attempting to catch his breath and shaking his head. "I should be going."

He felt Moira's hand on the small of his back easing him up, and squeezing his shoulder with her other hand. "I know, Scamp. But think about it; you'll get to stay here with me, and Bucky won't be around to spoil things or eat all of your food." She stuck her nose up at him.

Bucky put his hand to his heart. "Ah, Moi, is that really what you think? The war just couldn't take me soon enough, huh? But gee, I will miss your ma's cooking – you only started taking me up to your place a month ago." He took both of them by the shoulders. "Come on, man. S'my last night. We gotta get you cleaned up."

"Why, where are we going?"

Bucky took his arm off Moira's shoulders to hand him that day's newspaper, which was folded on an ad for the World of Tomorrow Expo. "The future."

After a quick wash-up, the trio went to the event and were surrounded by thousands of people and technological marvels that none of them could have ever dreamed of. Bucky and Moira were huddled together, pointing out every odd and amazing thing and making jokes about some of the fellow spectators. As enthralled as Steve was, he couldn't bring himself not to mope. Bucky took one look at him and sighed. "I don't see what the problem is. You're about to the last eligible man in New York. You know there's three and a half million women here."

"Well, I'd settle for just one," Steve said earnestly. Moira cleared her throat, then started choking, causing the boys to stop and look at her worriedly.

"Sorry," she rasped, giving Steve a particularly strange look. "The air in here's just so...fresh. M'not used to it. Mmm, yes, ladies. One lady."

Bucky rose a brow, then looked ahead and smiled. "Good thing I took care of that." He waved at three figures who stood by a large statue.

"Hey, Bucky!" One of the women called, waving back. As the group walked closer, they were revealed to be two women and a man in uniform.

Moira gripped Bucky's arm. "Uh, you didn't tell me you were setting us up." She dug her nails into his arm, which he thankfully managed to pry off.

"Well, surprise. It's my last night in the states; we're gonna have some fun." He squeezed her arm more affectionately. "Besides, he's one of the guys who's going off with me; good guy, told him all about you."

Steve looked exasperated. "What'd you tell her about me?"

"Only the good stuff." When they approached their dates, Bucky took the brunette in his arms and kissed her cheek. Steve stood awkwardly in front of the blond and Moira crossed her arms and took an almost defensive stance. Neither of their dates looked very impressed.

"Elaine's mine for the night." The brunette giggled. "Steve, this is Lilian, and Moira, this is Grant."

Steve eagerly extended his hand and smiled shyly. "It's a pleasure to meet you." Lilian looked down her nose at him and very loosely shook his hand. Neither Moira nor Grant made a move to be cordial.

"Alright then. Look, the main presentation's starting."

Steve went to buy some peanuts as the other five pushed into the crowd to see Howard Stark show off his hover car. This was already panning out to be just like every romantic endeavor of his (tch, romantic attempt). The women he knew could be just as cruel as the men; laughing at him, shouting about why they'd ever go out with a shrimp like him. Even worse, they'd just stare him down, scoffing and silently judging him. The few nice ones regarded him with exaggerated kindness out of pity, but that was only a little better. Even if he was the last bachelor in Brooklyn, the women would rather wait for the desirable men to come home.

With a bag of hot, salty nuts in hand, he turned around to see Moira shifting her weight from foot to foot. "Hiya," she said, dejected, "I can see your date's going well."

"About as well as you'd expect. How about yours?"

"Hah!" She slapped her hands together. "When he thought I wasn't listenin', he says to Bucky 'you didn't tell me she was so portly; how come you guys get the pretty ones?' Bucky took him outside. I'm not sure what's happening, but I'm pretty sure he's missing some teeth now."

"He's sorely mistaken." Steve's voice suddenly grew stone-cold and certain. "You're a...swell dame, Moira." He flushed and focused on the peanuts. When he looked up again, her face seemed even redder than his.

"Nah." She waved him off. "But...thanks for sayin' so."

"No, really. You're the best." At the look of anguish that suddenly appeared on her face, he tossed a peanut into his mouth to prevent himself from saying anything else that would make her feel so bad. They made their way back to Bucky and the girls without a word. He held the bag out to Lillian, but she just scoffed and went back to swooning over Stark. With a sigh, he held the bag out to Moira. She gratefully took a handful of nuts while he looked around for something else that would pique his interest. When his eyes caught sight of the recruitment station, he didn't even think before he started to make his way over.

"Scamp!" Moira barreled after him and hooked her arm through his. "Let's go see that silly-looking robot." They still walked in the direction of the station.

"Maybe later."

She finally stopped them. "I know what you're doing. Even if it was a good idea to try to enlist again...could you handle being rejected again?"

"I won't know unless I try." He even surprised himself with how desperate he sounded. "This could be my last chance. Sure, it's not a good idea – heck, it's a terrible idea. But it's the right thing."

She was clearly frustrated, her shoulders sagging. She huffed and let him go. "Go. Good luck to ya."

With a push, he continued his trek. Once inside, he was devoid of the apprehension he suffered all the previous attempts. Although that picture and mirror gimmick did wonders for his confidence.

Until Bucky shoved him off the light switch, chuckling. "Come on, you're kinda missing the point of a...double-and-a-half date." He patted Moira's shoulder, who was trying not to smile. "We're taking the girls dancing."

"I never said I wanted to go." She pursed her lips. "But we all know Buck is gonna get mighty ossified, so I might as well be the designated home-taker."

Steve smiled at them. "You go ahead. I'll catch up with you."

Bucky pulled him out into the crowded hall. "You're really going to do this again?"

"Well, it's a fair. I'm gonna try my luck."

"As who, Steve from Ohio? They'll catch you, Or worse, they'll actually take you."

Things just escalated from there. Bucky tried to get it into his head that he could do just as much to help the country on the home front, while Steve just refuted everything he said by bringing up rights, responsibilities, and the like. Moira tried to get them to "stuff it" when it started, but resorted to just letting them get everything out.

"Hey, Sarge! Are we going dancing?" Lilian called. Huh; she was content to just forget about Steve, it seemed.

Bucky turned to them. "Yes, we are!" He started to step away, fighting with himself. "Don't do anything too stupid until I get back."

"How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you."

Moira burst into laughter, holding her sides. "Maybe not all the stupid. I'll be sure to make up for that."

"I'm counting on that." He smirked and pulled Steve into a tight hug. "You're a punk."

"Jerk." They slowly pulled away. "Don't win the war 'til I get there."

Bucky saluted him, and wrapped his arm around Moira's shoulders. "C'mon, Moi; we'll find you a gentleman whose face won't beg to be socked."

She let out a long breath. "Well...okay, but gimmie a minute or two." As he left to meet up with the girls, she went right up to Steve and began to breathe shallowly. "Look, I never woulda dared say this before, but..." She wrung her hands together and hugged him tightly. "Please don't go. Don't leave me. I know that sounds selfish and all, but I can't lose my only other friend; my best friend." She took in a sharp breath. "My brother is one of the strongest people I've ever met, but even he's not safe..." She sniffed loudly. "I don't wanna lose you."

Steve sighed, but felt a warmth spread through his body. She had known him and Bucky the same amount of time, and as such, he thought she regarded them on an equal level. He had even thought she favored Bucky more, seeing as they shared a similar brashness and sense of humor. Hearing this – that a woman could truly care about him so much – made him reconsider his decision for a split second. She had protested Bucky going off to fight in the beginning, but she had eventually just accepted it. He suddenly thought that perhaps she was trying to stop him out of pity. Bucky would come back undoubtedly – there was no way to strike James Barnes down. Even if Steve made it in, who knew how long he would last. Perhaps the image of someone as small as he was being stuck down on foreign soil would be jarring to anyone with heart, which Moira had in spades.

"You're awfully quiet." So was her voice. "I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing."

"Moira..." He attempted to pull away so he could look at her face, but she just held him tighter. That made it just a little harder to breathe than normal, but he found he didn't want to let go just yet either. "I want to at least try."

"Trying can lead to bad things," she mumbled into his shoulder, which her head now rested on. He felt an even more intense wave of warmth crash over him.

"It can also lead to good things." He smiled bashfully. "The first time I tried alcohol, I met you."

"Doesn't count, you didn't talk to me while drunk." He chuckled. "Why not spend your trying energy on going out to dance with us? You can just sit off to the side with me if you want, since that damn share crop Lilian's done with ya. Buck says he's gonna find me a new fella, but he knows very well that all I'm stuck on yo- ohhh, a night with friends." She pulled away and managed a weak smile at him. "Please."

He looked her dead-on in the eyes. She wasn't much taller than him, being short herself, but when he caught her stone gray eyes it was as if he were staring up a statue. "I'll catch up to you, I promise."

A strange looked passed over her face. In any other situation, he would call it realization. "When you come, you gotta dance with me. Just once." The words tumbled out of her mouth carelessly.

He rose a brow. "What happened to just sitting on the side?"

"Don't care. Changed my mind." She nodded resolutely, then smirked and lightly slapped his cheek. "Try sayin' you're from somewhere small, like...I dunno, a town in a Dakota. No one knows what happens there, so you can blame your frailty on something there, maybe."

"I'll keep that in mind." He pulled away first. She trudged back to the expo, dragging her feet like she always did, but her feet sounded heavier than ever. He made his way inside, and she didn't look back until he turned the corner. He thought about turning back himself, but there was no need; he would see her later, after all.

Until Dr. Erskine appeared. Thanks to him, he too shipped out the next day, but his last night in America was spent listening to the man as he explained what lay ahead. No music, no dancing, and no promises to keep. Nor were there any robust women to make sure he kept them.