"Majorie, no. I can't accept this! It's too much," Queenie protested, looking aghast at her bed. Spread out on it was a full outfit: a red spaghetti strap dress with a sweetheart neckline and snug waist, shiny black pumps, and sparkling silver bracelet and earrings. Majorie came to the door of her room, wiping her hands on a towel.
"Yes, you can, and you will! It's a Christmas gift and it's not just from me. It's from me and my family as well as Agnes and hers. We all chipped in a bit. And you've got lots of letters from them, too." Majorie strode over to Queenie as she stared unblinking at the outfit on her bed. "You're not without family, honey. Never forget that." Majorie's kindness, the exhaustion from the past weeks, and the effort of trying to deny what she really felt all culminated into a large wave that swamped over Queenie and she lost herself in it.
"Oh, Majorie!" Queenie cried, flinging her arms around her best friend. Majorie petted her hair as Queenie sobbed quietly on her shoulder. All the emotions she'd been holding back burst forth and Queenie stopped trying to deny it. Queenie allowed herself to be comforted before pulling away, swiping at her face. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I've just been feeling so… so… overwhelmed."
"Then talk to me about it, honey," Majorie urged, sitting on the edge of the bed, careful not to muss the dress, and looked up at Queenie. Queenie took a deep breath, knowing she couldn't ignore it any longer. She knew saying it out loud to Majorie would make it real, but Queenie was tired of trying to push her emotions aside. The words spilled from her mouth and she began pacing the floor erratically.
"We've just been so focused on the mission, and everything. Then he starts being wonderful, and confusing me, and I shouldn't, but wouldn't it be nice? And I've had to be so careful, because he could leave, and what would I do then?"
Majorie's eyebrows shot up.
"He? I think you'd better start over, from the beginning, if you please. And lead with his name," Majorie declared.
"James Buchanan Barnes," Queenie whispered, not meeting Majorie's eyes as she turned to continue her pacing. James Buchanan Barnes. How to describe what he was to her? "He's just so… wonderful."
"You said, dear. What makes him wonderful?" Majorie asked gently, unperturbed by Queenie's frantic movements.
"Oh! Just the way he is." Queenie shoved a hand through her hair. "He's so protective and smart and strong. He knows he doesn't have to look out for me, but he does in a way that's so respectful." Realizing that Majorie wouldn't understand without an example, Queenie added, "He's the sniper, you know, and so we usually hang back while the others go storming in, but even when he does join them he keeps me updated with how things are going. He doesn't tell me not to worry, but tells me things like they are, and doesn't treat me like an idiot or a child. He respects me. And he can always make me smile or laugh." Queenie's pace slowed, although she didn't stop. Her fingers fiddled with a stray lock of hair. A small, soft smile came over her face as she continued with her thoughts. "At first I thought he was little more than a flirt, and when we went to the Whip and Fiddle last time, I flirted back. He's the kind of guy who wouldn't read into it but enjoy it too. But I can't flirt around him anymore." Queenie's voice dropped to a whisper. "It's too real for me. And this last mission, when we got separated and I got wounded, he didn't fuss, but helped me when I couldn't finish dressing it, and distracted me from the pain with stories of his family. I can see it in his eyes - he's the type of guy who loves deeply. He would never abandon his family." A stab (though of what, she refused to name) went through Queenie as she remembered the condemnation Bucky had given her father for leaving. "He's that wonderful."
Queenie stopped by the small window in her room, gazing out. Silence reigned as both girls processed their thoughts. Bucky's understanding eyes, good humor, deep respect, noble pride, and snappy intelligence were just some of the many things that made him wonderful, Queenie decided. The family he had and the way he loved them were all Queenie had ever dreamed of for herself. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine sharing a family with him. She could see little children racing to meet him at the end of a long day, and he'd laugh and toss them into the air, but he would quickly and determinedly come to her… Queenie's breath caught as she tried to banish the thought away.
"Ethel Grace, you've gone and fallen in love."
Queenie turned to face the other girl aghast.
"But I can't! I can't!" Queenie's mouth opened and closed as she searched for the right words to say.
"Why not? Far as I'm concerned, it's about damn time, and it should have come long before now. You deserve to be happy, Ethel Grace, and I won't let you stand in the way of your own damn happiness. What's so wrong about loving him? You just listed very good reasons for doing so. He respects you, he takes care of you, he loves his family - what is stopping you?" Majorie crossed her arms. Queenie stared at her best friend with an open mouth as her brain finally supplied her with the words for her reasons against falling in love with Bucky Barnes.
"For one thing, there's the whole 'no fraternization among officers' deal. I mean, that's a pretty big deal. We both could be dismissed from our posts. Then, there's… my dad, Majorie. Damn the man!" Queenie exploded, pacing emphatically once more. Her accursed father! Majorie's eyes widened in shock: Queenie never swore. "Even gone, I can't be rid of him! Why did he have to go? Why did he have to ruin everything?" Queenie raged against the spears of pain that lanced through her heart every time she thought about her dad. As much as she had said he had no power over her, clearly he still did, since he still caused her hurt to this day.
"Queenie, stop it. Stop it!" Majorie jumped up and seized Queenie by the shoulders, forcing her to halt and look Majorie in the eyes. "Listen to me. That man never deserved your adoration when you were little, but he had it anyway. When he left, you worried yourself half to death about what you'd done wrong. It took Agnes and your mother years to get you to understand it wasn't your fault. You've finally started getting your confidence back! You don't need an insecure jerk who chickened out to run your life. If you give back in to worrying about it, then he's got you under his control again."
"Don't you think I know that?" Queenie whispered. She closed her eyes miserably.
"I know you do. But that's why I'm reminding you of it. He doesn't own you. You're not under his control. He's not the standard for men." Majorie tilted Queenie's chin up.
"More often than not, he is. Remember Joe?" Queenie muttered, looking away. Joe was her second reason for hesitating around men.
Joe had been the first serious boyfriend she ever had, coming into her life while she and Majorie were training to be nurses. He'd been so sweet and caring at first, but gradually he began to show his true colors. He became increasingly jealous and possessive of Queenie's free time, even begrudging the time she wasn't free. Joe didn't like any of her friends and refused to understand that she would want to spend time with others besides him. But if she complained about it, he would threaten to leave her, even if it meant kicking her out to the side of the road at night. When he actually carried through with the threat, Queenie was shocked back to her senses. She spent five miles walking back to her shared apartment with Majorie and decided on many things. First, to tell Majorie and to break it off. Then, to never be unprotected again. When she got back home, she carried through with her plan. Majorie stayed with her every step of the way, making sure Queenie would never be left alone and vulnerable to his emotional abuse. Queenie would always be unfathomingly grateful for Majorie's encouragement and empowerment. It was that support that helped her tell him about her decision to break up with him. But in his anger, Joe attempted to force himself on her, to rape her, leaving her only one option: fight. So Queenie hit him as hard as she could and ran to safety. She planned to raise a case against him, but he had mysteriously fled town in the night and she'd never seen him again. Since then, Queenie had grown much more confident in herself, realizing that she deserved better than her father or Joe, learning the freedom to dream and flirt and be happy again. But, Queenie thought wryly, those two men had done a great deal of harm to her trusting abilities.
"Remember what you did to Joe?" Majorie countered. "You did figure out on your own that he was toxic for you, so I never left you alone. Then, when he would have assaulted you, your right hook made sure that his jaw will never be the same again. You dumped him. You can take care of yourself and you can (eventually) recognize the bad men - but you can also find the decent ones. Ones that won't run away. Ones that will be wonderful. One like Bucky Barnes."
Queenie finally looked Majorie in the eye, all restraint leaving her as she voiced her greatest fear.
"Majorie, I'm so afraid he'll be just like them!" she whispered brokenly. Majorie's face filled with sympathy and affection as she clasped Queenie's face gently between her hands.
"Darling, no love is without risk, without fear. But fear makes love shine all the brighter. Love is worth fighting for. Don't you think you're worth fighting for?" Majorie gazed into her friend's face with sisterly love as Queenie thought deeply about her words. True, Bucky did ignite the same desire in her to please him, but he was very different from her father and Joe. Hadn't she just listed reasons why he was so wonderful? She thought hard - her father and Joe had never once given her the same reasons. In fact, she realized, she couldn't think of any solid reasons why she had loved either of them. It had always been emotion, an obsession with them paying attention to her, that attracted her to them. But Bucky was different. Hadn't he, when she was injured, see to her needs despite her silence? Hadn't he cared for her regardless of whether she cared for him? Reflecting on the ride in the truck, Queenie remembered that the only person sitting near her was Bucky, and therefore, he must have been the one to hold her still and comfortable against his side, quietly and protectively. A warm glow spread through her chest, only to be halted by a new thought, a thought which brought pinpricks of tears to her eyes.
"I do think I'm worth it, but what if Bucky's not the one fighting for me?" Queenie asked miserably, looking down as tears began to spill. Majorie cupped her chin.
"Then don't you owe it to yourself to find that out? From what I've seen of the man, he seems every bit as interested, but he won't make a move if you don't let him. You both have to take leaps of faith - don't forget that it's every bit as scary for him as it is for you. But let yourself try! See where this goes, my darling. It just might take you over the moon."
Queenie stared at Majorie, tears still slowly leaking from her eyes, before breaking away with a laugh. Majorie was looking at her with bright eyes, cheerful and intelligent and hopeful. Queenie marveled at her best friend, once again feeling immeasurably grateful to have such a girl on her side.
"Majorie Whipple, when did you become so wise?" she asked, the joke relieving the serious atmosphere. Queenie wiped her tears and went over to the dress on the bed.
"I've always been wise," Majorie sniffed haughtily, heading for the door to let Queenie change.
"Yeah, a wise-ass," Queenie retorted and Majorie laughed merrily as Queenie began to dress for the evening.
'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'
"Remember what I said," Majorie admonished, with a wiggle of her eyebrows that set Queenie laughing. "You deserve this."
"You make it sound like a threat," Queenie teased, waving her off. "I'll see you there." Majorie was going to pick up Sam from his place, even though usually the guy would come pick up his girl. Something about a joke was all Queenie remembered Majorie saying about it. But Queenie had other things to think about, specifically one brown eyed sergeant. She smoothed her new dress out while she waited for him, her hands suddenly clammy. Queenie bit her lip - she was really going to do this! Majorie was right. If she wanted to truly get out from the shadow of her father's abandonment, she had to start taking more risks. Majorie had been right about Joe, too. Queenie had agonized for weeks after their breakup about why she had even dated him to begin with, or kept dating him after she knew. Because I knew what to expect from guys like my father. I knew the only risk would be that I'd actually get too attached. With Bucky, I have no idea what the hell to expect.
A smart rap at the door pierced her thoughts, and Queenie bit her lip once more to try to keep the stupid grin off her face. She swallowed her smile and rolled back her shoulders as she demurely went to the door, determined to act just as she had before, even though she felt like everything was different.
"Hi there. Can I help you, sir?" she asked teasingly, pretending her breath didn't hitch at the sight of Bucky Barnes standing tall and proud, in a fitted suit and hat crooked just so on his head.
"I think you can, ma'am. See, I was looking for my date, but you can't be her - for you're much too beautiful to be interested in someone like me. Do you know of any girl who might be? An Army nurse, perhaps?" he answered, giving her a half smile that made her stomach flutter. Queenie moistened her lips unconsciously, as warmth spread through her limbs at the way he was looking at her.
"Well, sir, I think I can solve both of your problems. I'm not too beautiful and I'm an Army nurse. Won't you come in while I get my coat?" Queenie stepped back to let Bucky into the apartment. She turned to get her coat from the living room, where she'd laid it on the couch in readiness, and tried not to think about how nicely Bucky fit in the living room, how right it seemed to have Bucky in her home. Queenie slid her right arm into the sleeve, but her left arm's recent injury prevented her from easily slipping it into the other sleeve. A hand on the collar of her coat caused her to look up into the warm eyes of Bucky Barnes. Oh, be still, my beating heart.
"How's your arm doing?" he asked softly, as he helped her into her coat.
"Not too bad," she answered, swallowing hard as he gently turned her toward him and began to button her coat for her. The coat only had three large buttons at the top, but he fastened them with the utmost care.
"That's good to hear. I'm really sorry you got hurt at all," Bucky continued, straightening her collar before sliding his hands to her shoulders. "I wish I could have taken the bullet for you." Horror struck her at the thought of him taking a bullet.
"As sweet as that is, I'm glad you didn't! I couldn't..." Queenie blurted, before realizing what she'd said and biting her lip. Bucky's brows rose as he smiled down at her. Queenie froze.
"You couldn't what?" Bucky pressed, and Queenie's heart stopped. Should she continue with what she intended to say? Not yet… I'm not that bold to have that conversation right this moment…
"Couldn't imagine what the team would do without you," she finished lamely. Bucky gazed at her with an unreadable expression before sliding his hands down her arms to pick up her hands.
"I could. They'd get into a hell of a lot more trouble, that's for sure. Come on, doll, let's go dancing," he said cheerfully. Queenie sighed, thankful he didn't pursue it. He grinned at her as he looped her arm through his and they left the apartment. "Do you mind walking? It's actually pretty nice out, even though it's almost Christmas and it's bitterly cold."
"I don't mind at all. I love taking walks," Queenie answered, her thoughts racing ahead. It would also give us time to talk… if I don't chicken out again. They left the building and began walking toward the Whip and Fiddle, several blocks away. For the moment, she was content to let the companionable silence reign as she and Bucky simply enjoyed the company and weather. With no wind, the cool air was pleasant and the softly falling snow muted sound. How nice and peaceful it all is, Queenie reflected. Her heart could burst, it was so happy just being at his side.
"Hey, Queens, my mother and siblings sent you some Christmas goodies," Bucky said suddenly, interrupting her musings. Queenie tilted her face to him in confusion.
"They did? How awfully nice of them. Why," Queenie stopped as she realized, "Bucky, did you tell them about me?" The warm glow in her chest was back and it threatened to bring tears to her eyes. He told his family about me?
"I did… I hope you don't mind," Bucky was quick to add. "I was able to call them before this last mission and my sisters wanted to know if I'd met any nice girls, so one thing just led to another. And when they heard you had no one to write to you, well, Rosie and Louisa just about threw a fit. They told me they were writing to you and I could do nothing to stop them. Hence, you have letters and Christmas goodies." Bucky glanced down at Queenie with an apologetic smile that quickly turned to alarm. The threat of tears had turned into actuality and Queenie could no longer blink away the drops that appeared at the corner of her eyes. "Hey - are you crying? What's the matter? I'm so sorry if I overstepped-"
"No! No, you did nothing wrong," Queenie hastily assured him, sniffling. She stopped, ashamed that he caught her crying and pulled her arm out of Bucky's to retrieve her handkerchief from her coat pocket. Pressing it to her eyes, she turned away from him. Get yourself together, Queens! She was suddenly very grateful for the deserted streets - no one to see her cry. "I- I'm the one who should be sorry. I'm too much of a mess around Christmas. I'm sorry."
"What for?" Bucky asked sharply, catching her elbow. "What do you have to be sorry for?" Queenie looked up in surprise. What did he mean, what did she have to be sorry for? It was embarrassing to be seen crying in public!
"Well… my tears, I suppose."
"Why?"
"Why?" Queenie repeated, dumbstruck at his questioning. "Be- because Christmas is supposed to be happy, a- and we're going out for an evening, and I- I'm ruining the mood," she stuttered, remembering how her father couldn't abide tears, before Bucky gently lifted her chin, stepping close to her.
"You are not ruining anything. Yes, Christmas is a celebration, but it is also remembrance. We remember the ones we love. You have every right to cry if that's what you want. Now, me, I want to keep you from crying, but that's because I can see your pretty eyes much better without tears in them. And I don't want you to be sad. I want you to be happy. I want to make you happy. But I will not force you to be anything you don't want to be." His other hand slipped to cradle her elbow, drawing her closer to him. "Majorie wouldn't want you to do anything you don't want to do either. If you don't want to go tonight, we don't have to go. What do you need me to do? What do you want?"
"What I want?" Queenie whispered. Neither her father nor Joe had ever asked her what she wanted, and even if they had, they'd done so begrudgingly and resented having to see to her needs. Bucky's clear concern held no trace of malice or anger, and that gave her courage. "I want… I want you to…" she stammered before stopping to put together a coherent thought. She took a steadying breath. "I want to answer the question you asked me during the last mission." She wouldn't run anymore. "I don't know if I should, but I'm tired of second guessing everything I do when it comes to love." She barely registered Bucky's start at the word, plowing on instead. No more hiding, no more ignoring. Majorie was right - love was worth the risk. So here goes - "And here it is. I want you to be someone more to me. Someone special. But if that's not what you want, you need to tell me so now before I get my hopes up any higher." Finally finished, Queenie forced herself to meet Bucky's eyes, steeling herself, but what she found there was not rejection. A strange light brightened there, a light which quickly spread to his whole face as a brilliant smile grew across his lips. Bucky opened his mouth several times as if trying to say something before shaking his head with that smile still growing. Queenie released her breath, melting to see it.
"Doll, you're something else," he managed, before quickly closing the distance between them. Queenie gasped as he kissed her, before moaning and flinging her arms around his neck. His hands on her back drew her closer and closer to him as his mouth moved over hers, causing sensations to warm her insides. How long they kissed, she couldn't say - a few minutes, an hour, a year - all she could think of was Bucky Barnes. His kiss was gentle and sweet and certain and claiming and... so, so, so wonderful. Finally Queenie pulled away, her need for air forcing her lips from his, although as soon as she left, she instantly wanted to be back. Both of their eyes were slow to open as they rested foreheads against each other, breathing deeply. His grip on her waist tightened, drawing her ever closer and his eyes were very dark, making Queenie bite her lip to see the desire in them.
"Ethel, honey," he said, voice husky and thick, and Queenie shivered deliciously at the sound of her name on his lips, "You're going to have to break that habit." He brushed his thumb over her lower lip, teasing it back out from her teeth. "Otherwise I will not be held responsible for what I do." Queenie immediately wanted him to do whatever it was he threatened.
"And what will you do?" she invited, swallowing in anticipation. He didn't reply but lowered his mouth to hers again, kissing her long and deeply. Queenie lost all sense of anything and happily gave herself up to it. This time Bucky ended the kiss, although he lingered for a while.
"We'll never make it to the pub at this rate," he chuckled against her lips, and as closely pressed to him as Queenie was, she felt the rumble in his chest from it. She marveled at the sound, delighting in it. "We're already going to be late. Come on. I won't have you catching cold, either." He turned, keeping her close to his side as they continued walking, his hand keeping hold on hers. Queenie sighed in happiness, reliving the kisses with a flushing face. He caught sight of her blush and laughed.
"Well? Why are you redder than a tomato?" he teased, slipping his arm around her waist. She shoved her hands in her pockets but didn't duck away in embarrassment. It was too late now to hide from him, so she decided to tease him back.
"Not bad," she returned coyly. "Haven't been kissed like that before, but… not bad."
"Not bad?" he asked incredulously, staring at her before realizing the joke and laughing loudly. "Suppose I've got to work to win your approval, then, angel. Not that I'm one to shy away from a challenge."
"Then I challenge you to do better," Queenie answered sweetly, raising her face to him in an invitation, fully intending to take the consequences of being very late to dinner. Bucky managed to maintain better control than she, although she could tell he would have been more than happy to oblige her. He swallowed hard, his hand tightening on her waist, but merely kissed the top of her head as he tugged her closer. Between his body heat and the joy inside her heart, Queenie felt nothing but wholly warm and safe.
"Ethel honey, you are something else," he said again, and they kept walking toward the Whip and Fiddle, but with a bit more spring to their steps.