Bucky still isn't used to kids liking him. Not just liking him, but being comfortable enough to wrestle him or lean on him in front of the TV. The first time Cass had fallen asleep with his head in Bucky's lap, Bucky had been afraid to move. Now, he thinks nothing of picking Sarah's sleepy kids up and putting them in bed.

That's exactly what he does after AJ dozes off during a Mighty Ducks marathon, Sarah's favorite childhood movies. As gently as he can, he gets up and places AJ in bed in the boys' room, and Cass trails behind, sent by his mother.

"Night, Dad."

AJ is half asleep, but Bucky still feels chilled by the softly-spoken words. This is—this is wrong. He must have messed up somehow. This should never have happened. Bucky fights the urge to pick up his bag and leave immediately, but Sarah doesn't deserve to be freaked out just because he is.

He forces himself to go back to the main part of the house, where Sarah has abandoned Emilio Estevez in favor of cleaning up from dinner.

Sarah hands Bucky a plate to dry, but he's so distracted that he drops it, and it shatters loudly on Sarah's kitchen floor. "What's wrong?" she asks, grabbing the broom and dustpan to clear up the mess.

"I'm sorry, Sarah. I'll replace it," he says quickly, swimming in a sea of anxious confusion, glad that the boys' door is closed and they seem to have slept through the noise.

"I don't care about the —plate," Sarah says, turning to face him. "I care about whatever has a super soldier this far off his game."

Bucky hangs his head, not wanting to meet her gaze. "I'm—fine."

"Obviously not," she says. "You were fine a few minutes ago, so don't try to tell me nothing happened."

"You won't like it," he almost whispers.

"Try me," she says, her eyes not letting him off the hook.

Bucky turns around, his back to Sarah. "Just—AJ—called me 'Dad' back there. I know he was sleep talking, and he didn't mean it. Sarah, I swear I've never called myself that to the boys. I would never—" he's stopped mid-sentence by the feeling of Sarah's arms around him, embracing him from behind and instantly giving him a shot of calm.

"Little scary?" she asks softly. "You didn't ask for kids."

Bucky puts his hands over hers. "Scary? No, not scary. I just—felt ashamed to be stealing that title from a good man."

"You listen to me," Sarah answers, "that man lived a good life. He was a good husband, and he was a good father. But you got things backwards. You see how Cass and AJ look up to you. That's not taking anybody's place. That's because they can trust. Even though they lost their dad, he gave them that gift. They know what a good father is."

"So, if my half asleep kid called you "Dad," it's fine to be scared, and it's fine if that's not something you want. But it's sure as heck nothing to be ashamed of. My kids have high standards."

Bucky did not expect this at all. He turns back around to face her, tears in his eyes, and melts into her arms, thankful for about the millionth time that she's tall enough and strong enough to take care of him.

"Maybe a little scared," he finally admits very quietly, "but not because I don't want it." Sarah just holds him, listening and saying nothing.

"I'm hardly even used to being an uncle," he adds after a while.

Sarah finally pulls away and laughs. "I'll tell you a secret. You were never crazy uncle material. You're way too square. You were never the one who was going to give them too much ice cream or let them stay up past bedtime. From your first visit, you were getting them to finish their homework and do their chores."

"But I'm fun!" he protests, wiping his eyes and smiling.

"Sure you are," she agrees, "as long as the homework is done and everybody's respectful. Kids like that, you know. My kids like that. It's safe. It's one of the reasons I decided I liked you way back."

Bucky thinks for a few moments, just standing in front of the sink with Sarah, glad she doesn't rush his thoughts. This is a whole new way of thinking about things, but he can't really deny her logic, and he can't dispute the idea that her kids, for some reason, can't seem to get enough of spending time with him.

"You're a natural," Sarah adds after a long time. "I was surprised when Sam told me you'd never had kids."

"I don't feel like a natural," he argues.

"I think that's part of it," Sarah answers.

Bucky shakes his head. "He's not even going to remember he said that in the morning."

"Maybe not," Sarah agrees, "but the boys have been starting to see you that way for a while now, whether or not anybody said it."

"And you really don't mind?"

Sarah kisses him, very briefly but very hard. "Refusing to love isn't going to bring back what we've lost," she says. "We can honor his memory best by giving away the love he gave us."

Bucky takes her face in his hands. "Did you just imply that you love me, Ms. Wilson?"

"And if I did?"

"If you did, I would imply right back that there's a soldier who lost his mind the day he stepped on a boat and saw a beautiful woman, and he knew he was going to love her; he just had no idea how much." For a while, there's no talking, because even a super soldier can't talk and kiss at the same time.

Finally, they pull back for breath, and Sarah takes Bucky's hand. "Thanks—for loving my boys. I didn't expect to ever find someone who would be here for the whole package."

Bucky nods. "I'm all in, Sarah." It's that simple.