"So, what should we do?" Steve asked as the four of them finally walked out of the army base.

The cold had been just a cold, thank God. He had began to worry when it lingered, that maybe they had touched something innocent looking in a Hydra base, something that didn't show up in the blood tests, something that he was immune to thanks to the Super-soldier Serum and that Bucky had been lucky enough to slip through.

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm dying for a beer," Gabe said.

"Yeah, we tried sneaking some in, but the dragon-nurse caught us," Bucky muttered. "Bet she drank them all herself. Breathing fire down our necks all the time must have given her quite the thirst."

"You're just sore because she's the first and only woman immune to your wiles, Buck," Hermione teased.

"Aha. So you admit they work on you!"

"She doesn't count. She's one of the guys," Gabe cut in, earning himself a hard shove from Bucky while Steve laughed at such a blunt statement.

He knew Hermione wouldn't mind and probably considered herself one of the guys too, but Bucky was always overly protective of her. Honestly, it was cute coming from a man who had always been a bit of a cad towards the dames. None of them were paying attention to where they were going as they argued and hired around, so Steve was the one to apologize to the little guy selling newspapers when he got knocked aside in the scuffle, not thinking much of it until the kid's eyes grew wider and wider, flitting from one of them to the other. Steve glanced at the front page from which familiar faces stared back at him and bought a couple papers, giving the boy an extra coin for his trouble. The gap toothed kid grinned wide and ran off, excitedly calling some other boy's name.

Chuckling, Steve tucked the papers beneath his arm and herded the others towards a nearby pub that looked to still be in business despite the dark windows, hoping to get out of sight before they drew a crowd. The enforced blackout made the big city look like a ghost town most of the time, but music drifted from the inside of the establishment. Gabe suddenly stopped at the door, Bucky walking right into his back.

"Yer gettin' on my nerves, Jones. What's the matter now?"

Gabe pointed at a handwritten sign nailed next to the door, in bold, black letters.

ALL COLOURS WELCOME, EVEN WHITE

"Ha," Steve chuckled. "The Brits and their sense of humour. Look at the next one."

Steve pointed at the café across the street that had a similar sign hanging on a nail, and Gabe went to investigate.

I'M COLOURBLIND ANYWAY, MIGHT AS WELL ALL COME IN.

And the next, which didn't even sell drinks.

YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO IF YOU SPELL "COLOUR" WRONG

Glancing down the rest of the small shops, it seemed everyone had their two cents to add. Don't get him wrong, he loved his country, but the Brits sure knew how to get their point across.

"What's goin' on here?" Gabe asked when he returned with a bemused expression.

"From what I heard, some brass tried to get some of our black men kicked out of a pub, and that sort of thing don't fly with our British allies. So when that idiot demanded they segregate the establishments, they all refused to serve white people." Steve couldn't repress the chuckle that made it past his lips. He would have loved to see that peacock's face when he got the news of how his demands had backfired right in his pompous face. "Can let you imagine how well that went down. Next day, our brass had no choice but to back down or risk a mutiny from their white men who had nowhere to drink."

"Don't get between a man and his drink," Bucky agreed. "That includes you, Jones. Get in already, or I'll drag you in."

Steve let those two bicker their hearts out while they ordered. Gabe always gave as good as he got, so he wasn't worried. Meanwhile, he settled in a booth with Hermione, laying out the newspaper down between them.

"Oh, my... Where the hell did they get that picture?" Hermione exclaimed, her nose almost brushing the black and white photo taking half the page.

He had to admit it was a terrific shot, all of them more or less aligned and looking in the same direction over the desolate countryside, their uniforms and hair whipping in the wind… it was very artful, but he knew for sure they hadn't posed for it.

"I think that's in Austria? It looks mountainous enough," Steve said, not entirely convinced.

"Nope," Bucky corrected as he and Gabe set their pints down. "That's Slovenia. I remember telling myself those mountains looked like a nice pair of-"

"Bucky!" he and Hermione exclaimed, drowning out whatever piece of anatomy he had been contemplating, which just made him laugh.

"But you weren't too far. Austria is just on the other side."

That's explained why it didn't looked quite right. But now he recalled when that had been. They had almost been cut off from a way home, with the Italian fascists in the West and the Nazis in the North, but Jacques had come through once more, connecting them to the local resistance to lead them over a little known pass in the mountain which was used for sheep transhumance. But the person who had taken the picture remained a mystery. Steve didn't remember seeing anyone with a camera, but they'd all been too busy looking at their objective apparently.

"Why are they calling us the Howling Commando?" Gabe asked, tapping the bold front page title after having started on the second newspaper with Bucky.

That, too, was a mystery. He hadn't been informed of it any more than his team.

"Well, we are a loud bunch most of the time," Hermione said with a shrug, seeming not to mind it as much as her own monicker of Lady Liberty.

"Especially Dum Dum," Bucky said.

"Especially when you give him a boost, Lady," Gabe added. "Howls like a demon having the time of his life every time. I bet the sound gives Hydra nightmares."

"Good name, though. Our team didn't really have one before now," Steve said, wondering if it was fortuitous this photo and name was coming out precisely now, when they were in the country, or if Colonel Philips had something up his sleeve. He wouldn't put it pass that conniving old fox.

"The information published about us is pretty accurate," Hermione pointed out, reading faster than any of them. "Either we have a very big mole problem, or the Colonel let it slip on purpose."

"Why would he do that?" Bucky muttered.

Steve shrugged.

"Hydra already knows who most of us are and what we did. Keeping it secret doesn't really serve us. Telling the world though…"

"Oh no," Hermione said.

"They're going to use us Captain Tighty-Pants style, aren't they?" Bucky asked.

"I'm not wearing tights, nuh-uh," Gabe said, shaking his head. "I've got nothing to be ashamed of down there mind, but tights are too much, man."

Steve chuckled.

"Don't worry. We're known to the public with our own uniforms thanks to this article, so that's what they'll want us to wear. But be prepared for some PR nightmare to hit us on the nose soon."

"Still not what we signed up for…"

"But orders are orders, right?"

They enjoyed their beer though, then Gabe asked if he could keep one of the newspapers to send over to his Ma and went on his merry way to write back home. It was heartwarming how proud of himself he looked. He deserved it, too. Each and every one of his team did.

Hermione startled next to him, and her cheeks appeared flushed when he looked her over.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" Steve asked, concerned she might not be completely over her cold.

"I'm fine," she mumbled, her eyes avoiding Bucky's.

Steve looked at his friend who was oozing smugness and he rolled his eyes.

"Playing footsie, Buck?"

"Jealous?" he replied, his foot sneaking between his thighs.

Surprised, Steve shot up from his seat, almost bowling over the table and empty glasses. He apologized to the barkeep and sat back down, cheeks pink.

"You need to wind down," Bucky admonished.

"Why are you so jumpy?" Hermione asked, eyes narrowed as she looked him over. "Are you hiding something?"

"No."

He really wasn't. But he had been thinking a lot of what Hermione told him of the second world war in her world, amongst the magicals and non-magicals and the timeline worried him in particular, fearing they were not in the right place doing the right thing… what if the good guys didn't win in this war? Schmidt still had the Tesseract after all and they had no idea where it was or what he was using it for, not even Hermione. So yeah, maybe he was a bit on edge. If it was just him, he'd go back out there, on the frontline, but he couldn't go without his team following him, and he couldn't ask that of them so soon. For the same reason, he couldn't tell Hermione or Bucky, but he didn't need to make up an excuse right then because the formerly quiet pub had been steadily filling in, and not all of them were here for a drink.

Hermione nudged him with her elbow, her chin nodding towards a man holding a large camera. They hadn't yet put on their dancing monkey suits that the circus was already here.

"Backdoor," Bucky muttered, his eyes darting to the left.

To their credit, the crowd didn't hound them and the barkeep apologized for the fuss. Back on the street, the sun had began to set, but the Blackout meant the street of the city were prematurely dark with the black curtain drawn on every window, the absence of street lights and even the cars had their light dimmed to mere slits.

"Better get back to Monty's before it gets too dark. I heard people can get lost feet from their home if they're not careful."

The streets were impossible to navigate in the pitch black despite the white stripes painted on the kerbs. The serum might have made his vision the best it could ever be, but he still could not see in the dark the way dogs could. Shame that. The streets could become dangerous too, and Falsworth had warned them to look out for cutthroats if they were stupid enough to be out at night. Steve would like to see them try, but didn't want Hermione to witness such appalling behaviour from her countrymen.

"Monty lives here?" she asked, looking up at the big London house with wide eyes. "Should have guessed with a name like that."

"You should see the size of the beds," Bucky said, waggling his eyebrows. "You could fit Snow White and her seven dwarfs."

Steve had shared a bed with Bucky ever since the dragon nurse had kicked them out while Hermione was still stuck in the hospital. Falsworth had immediately offered up his home to the team so they could get some actual rest instead of staying on base. The bedsharing seemed to help with the nightmares. Bucky would always stay on his side, just within reach, but would cross the invisible border whenever his sleep was troubled to hug him the way he did Hermione. Steve loved it, and hated himself for loving something that caused Bucky anguish. He didn't have better luck at making him talk about it than Hermione had though.

"Will he even bother offering me a room?" she asked. "Your stuff is already in ours," Steve confessed.

Their friends had known for while now they preferred to share a bed when possible. They kept up appearances, but his teammates weren't stupid, and Steve wasn't going to inconvenience Falsworth just for the sake of keeping up the charade. They all trusted one another with their lives, so trusting them with their secret was the next logical step.

The next couple of days seem all too perfect in the cocoon of Falseworth's home, even if life in London at the moment was a bit strange with all the measure put in place to avoid German detection and spies. The rest of the team were in and out at all hours, and Steve was sure Gabe actually had a sweetheart somewhere in London because he had this dazed look about him every time he returned, although he won't tell them about her for some reason. The three of them were content to stay in each other's company. Steve doubted that was actually healthy, but at this point he didn't even care because it was doing Bucky a world of good. He was more relaxed than he had seen him since before he left in his brand new uniform, more like his old self, more confident and carefree… He finally confided in them one night as they were all in bed, under cover of darkness and fluffy blankets.

"I know you want me to tell you what happened with Zola, but truth is, I'm not even sure. They did something… Don't remember what, but it hurt. It hurt so bad I just wanted… I wanted it to end, no matter what, no matter how. Ending it was better. "

Steve reached over Hermione to touch his arm, to comfort him, in part, but truth was he had needed to feel Bucky there, warm and solid and alive.

"I keep having these nightmares, but even when I'm awake, it's like they're in my head. They put images in my mind, words, ideas… I don't know. I can't get rid of that sensation that there's something in my head that's not me, like a worm in an apple, you know, eating it from the inside." He laughed self-deprecatingly. "They managed to make me afraid of myself. It's stupid, right? Afraid of my own shadow like I'm a kid?"

Steve didn't think it was stupid. Probably the wisest thing he'd ever said actually.

"Is that possible?" he asked Hermione instead.

"With magic, easily. If I had my wand, I could look into your mind and help you sort through it, heal your mind, even if they have, in fact, managed to implant ideas there. But mind control by non magical means… if I remember correctly, the muggles on my side didn't dabble into it before the sixties. Your world is technologically more advanced however, other fields might be as well, so it is a possibility." She sighed. "I wish I had my wand."

"I wish I could forget it all," Bucky mutters, barely above a whisper, which he might have missed if they weren't all so close to one another. "I just want to forget."

Bucky held Hermione close, squeezing her in his arms and hiding his face in her wild hair, as if it would help him block out the rest of the world. Contrary to Hermione, Steve wasn't surprised when Bucky finally kissed her. She was still the default middle spoon, out of habit more than anything else, but he liked to think if it had been him instead, it would not have mattered.

But then Bucky pulled back and apologised.

"I'm sorry. I don't… I didn't mean to… I'm not… using you to forget."

"I know, Bucky. It's fine."

"It's all fine," Steve agreed. "Don't overthink it too much."

"But I have been," Bucky sounded genuinely coy. He wasn't even faking it as he sometimes did to ensnare a lady. "I have to tell you guys something else."

Steve's eyebrows shot up. He had no idea what this could be. Buck never used to keep secrets from him. If anything, he shared too much. Either what he had to tell them was really bad, or really embarrassing.

"You remember that night we all got drunk after raiding that Hydra base."

"When you guys didn't listen to me and drank absinth

you mean?"

"Yeah. I sort of saw you two… later… in the tent… together."

Steve felt Hermione warm under his fingers. Blushing, no doubt, just like he was, but damn…

"Well, you were drunk," Steve said when Hermione didn't say anything.

"Not really. And I could have just walked away when I realized, but I didn't. I watched. I wanted to watch."

Steve wasn't sure how to react to his confession. Honestly, not only did he not mind, but the thought of Bucky watching them having sex, hiding in the shadows, just a few feet away, aroused him, which had to be a lot weirder.

"Did you like what you saw?" Hermione asked, her voice breathy, but loud in the silent room.

Maybe it wasn't such big deal in the future. Maybe he should be the one not to overthink it. He held his breath so he wouldn't miss Bucky's answer but he didn't reply, or maybe he only nodded. The room was too dark to see much.

"Did you think about our offer? " Steve asked.

"How could I not?" Bucky replied teasingly without elaborating.

"And?" he and Hermione asked at the same time, both sounding too eager.

Bucky chuckled, low and predatory, then Hermione squealed and shifted away from him, before they both rolled back against his side, Bucky's face inches away as he gave his answer.

"The way I see it, I accepted as soon as you asked, Steve. I'm just not sure of how to go about it, and I mean, we haven't had all that much privacy until we got here."

"What do you feel comfortable with?" he pressed.

The last Steve wanted was to spook off his oldest friend. If he was only comfortable with Hermione, that was fine too, as long as she was okay with it. Bucky was right, they already were together, the three of them, always there for each other. Their relationship wasn't about sex… but love and friendship and care. Sex was a bonus.

Bucky turned his head towards him, his breath raising goosebumps along his neck, a shiver of anticipation down his spine. Alright, so he wasn't immune to Bucky's charms, but to be fair, almost no one was.

"I want to watch. Like last time? Maybe… more. I'm not sure yet."

"Whatever you want, Buck," he said, Hermione echoing his words.

She heard them kiss, then suddenly Hermione was in his lap, straddling him, and the soft, dimmed light was switched back on. It seemed blinding at first, but he blinked a couple of times to adjust and the lamp gave them just enough light to enjoy the sight of each other. Hermione pushed his shirt up, her hands soft and warm, tingling wherever they came in contact with his skin. He pulled it the rest of the way over his head and plopped back down in his pillow before tugging the little bow on Hermione's nightshirt to reel her in for a kiss, her lips already wet and puffy from the one Bucky had given her. He pulled at the string, opening the top of her nightshirt wide, letting it slide past her shoulders to pool at her waist. Her skin was flushed and she looked more self conscious than usual as she glanced between him and Bucky.

"You're a beauty if I ever saw one," Bucky breathed out, his eyes roaming over her, pausing at the scars she couldn't hide with her hair.

Bucky's gaze shifted to him, questioning. Steve shook his head minutely, the whole conversation lasting but a couple of seconds went unnoticed by Hermione. They could talk about it later. It was in her past and they all wanted to enjoy the present right now. Needed it. All of them.

Steve shimmied out of his bottoms, Hermione rubbing against him as she peppered kisses down his neck. Gone was the awkward moment of self consciousness. Personally, he was already losing himself to the sensations Hermione elicited, his body starved for touch, reacting to every flutter of fingers and lips. Bucky moved next to him and he forced his eyes open, looking through half lidded eyes at his now naked chest, following the movement of his hands and they dipped lower, pushing his pants down, freeing his cock, already half hard despite the lack of attention it was getting. Steve bit his lip. It was unfair. He wanted Bucky to feel as good as he was feeling.

But he couldn't make him, force his hand… If he wanted to take his time, that was good too. The anticipation, the drumroll some called it, he could see -feel- Bucky was enjoying that. He'd changed. Before, in his stories, Bucky would take, hard and fast, and be content with that. Everything was a race: chasing skirts, chasing pleasure, then chasing the next one. Maybe it was war that had changed him. It made young men old, turned them cautious but also appreciative of the little things, those they never took notice of before or took for granted. They shuffled along on their young legs now, the race forgotten, taking their time because they knew it was so precious and there might be little of it left for them…

So they took their time that night, him, Hermione and Bucky. Two turned three, and becoming one.