It'd take a few paychecks to save up enough to get a better apartment, and longer to probably convince Steve via letter to move into the damn thing. So, until then, they both still lived in the same crappy apartments in the same run down building they'd always been in.

Well, that Steve had always been in. She'd moved in a few years earlier, after her parents and sister had moved out of state. It had made sense to find a place near Steve and he'd agreed, citing it'd make it easier to walk her to and from work.

Steve's place was on the first floor, up a short flight of rickety steps in constant threat of collapse. He went inside and Rebecca leaned against the doorframe to wait for him. Now that they both lived alone, Steve wouldn't let her come inside. He said it was to protect her reputation, which she was pretty sure was fairly well shot after years of back-alley fistfights, mostly on Steve's behalf.

Ladies, she's been informed more than once by nosy busybodies, did not engage in fisticuffs, and certainly not outright wrestling matches, with boys. They also didn't wear trousers on a regular basis or have a male best friend the way she did with Steve. There were a variety of colorful rumors floating about concerning her and her reputation, none of which she cared about. She had better things to do than worry about small-minded individuals in desperate need hobbies other than gossiping and criticizing her.

Across the small living room, the bedroom door opened, and Steve came out. He'd changed into his nicest clothes and slicked his hair down.

Rebecca raised an eyebrow. It's a science fair, not church."

He grinned. "Just don't want to be underdressed, not with you in uniform and all."

He closed the front door and they headed back down the stairs. As Rebecca stepped off the final step, her heel caught in a hole in the wood, and she stumbled. Steve grabbed her arm and she flung it around his shoulder to keep her balance.

"I hate these things," she growled, glaring down

"I don't know," Steve said, with an oddly shy smile. "I think they look good on you."

Rebecca's face flamed. She cleared her throat and made a show of looking at something in the distance until it cooled down.

Who knows, maybe the heels weren't so terrible after all.

The fair was amazing, the sky lit with fireworks and the exhibits out of this world with futuristic looking tech and men spouting important sounding words.

As they went about trying to see everything, they ran into a couple of mutual friends, Kathy Johnson and her cousin, Gordon. Gordon had brought a new friend of his, a slender looking banker type with short blond hair and glasses, named Jim or John or some name Rebecca forgot almost as soon as she heard it.

She mostly turned-out Gordon explaining that what's-his-name was a new employee from work. Gordon had a habit of befriending everyone he met, and it was common to see random people about him wherever he went.

It was clear from the way Kathy's eyes were lit up that she was interested in the guy, and it was just as obvious from the way he was gaping that he was interested in Rebecca.

Damn it.

Rebecca knew she was considered attractive, guys told her all the time. This despite the trousers and her keeping her hair tied in a thick bun at the base of her neck most days. Still, she got told she was a real stunner, usually along with descriptions of how small she was or dainty. Why the hell her attractiveness was tied up in her size, she didn't know, but she hated that stupid word. Dainty. Children were dainty, not a grown woman who'd once fought off an angry dog with a stick and righteous anger.

Granted, she'd been six and the dog had been a Pomeranian, but it still counted.

Regardless, she got attention. She didn't mind going out to see a flick or grab a bite, but always made it clear she wasn't interested in anything more than friendship. Usually, that got her one of three reactions. Some respected her decision, some acted like spoiled children denied a new toy, and some were convinced they could change her mind. Those were the ones she usually went on a date with, happy to go see a show or go dancing.

They might not agree, but they knew where she stood, and that was head over heels for Steve George Rogers.

Not that she told anyone that part.

Not even her mother or aunts who, even three states away, were always trying to introduce her to some "nice boy" or another. She never had any problems rejecting them, and she certainly wouldn't have any trouble rejecting Gordon's friend.

Currently the cad was eyeing her chest like he expected it to do a trick while Kathy was looking more and more resigned. Rebecca was feeling more and more irritation, not only that she had to deal with the creep but also that they were butting in on her what would be her last evening with Steve for a very long time.

Steve hadn't noticed the creep or her growing annoyance. Gordan was one of his best friends, after Rebecca, and the two were deep in conversations, leaving her with Kathy and creep a few feet behind them.

Creep stepped in front of her suddenly, forcing her to stop before running into him. He put on what he probably thought was a bright smile, and stuck his hand out. "Hey there, Sweetheart," he said in the tone of voice one would use toward a child. "I'm Allen."

Huh, Rebecca thought. Not Jim, John or Asshole. Go figure.

Allen was openly appraising her body, and the urge to punch him grew a thousandfold.

"So," Allen continued. "Joining the military, are we? That's cute. You gonna answer the phones?"

"Something like that," Rebecca replied, her voice icy. She started to walk past him, only to have him grab her arm, his grip tight enough that she grimaced in pain.

"Hey, hold on now. What's the rush? I just want to get to know you better."

"I don't think she wants to get to know you," Steve said, suddenly appearing at her side.

So perhaps he hadn't been oblivious after all.

Rebecca twisted her arm, trying to break the creep's hold on her, but he already had a good grip. For not the first time she cursed having a slight frame. It was one area where she could understand Steve, she wanted to break the creep's arm, but her body limited her capacity to do so.

As if he could read her mind, Allen tightened his grip and she flinched in pain, an action that didn't escape Steve's notice.

"You know, Gordon," he said, his voice hard, "I'm not that impressed with your new friend."

Allen sneered at him. "What the hell is someone like you doing with someone like her? Little shrimp like you, I bet you can't even get it up, can you?"

Rebecca punched him. It was very unladylike, and hurt like hell, but it was exceptionally satisfying. The blow snapped Allen's head backward and, as he straightened, Gordon added a left hook of his own, his job as a dockworker giving him considerably more force. Allen's grip finally loosened, and Rebecca shook him off with a grimace of disgust.

"I'm not much impressed with him either," Gordon muttered. He frowned at Rebecca and Steve. "Sorry about that. I'd thought he was all right."

Rebecca hooked her arm through Kathy's arm and reached for Steve, only to falter in confusion as he moved away and avoided eye contact. She forced a tight smile and threw her arm around Gordon's shoulders instead, ignoring Allen who was getting to his feet behind them. Proving he had at least one brain cell, he chose to stagger away rather than confront them again.

It was for the best as she was pretty sure her knuckles were going to be well and truly bruised the next day. Last thing she wanted was to risk bruising the set on the other hand.

"Come on," she said with false cheer. "We're going to miss the main show."

She put the incident out of her mind. It was her last night, and she didn't want some ass ruining her memory of it.

A large stage had been set up in the center of the fair, and she pulled the two toward it with Steve following behind. There was a man on the stage, young and cocky and dressed in clothes that probably cost a month's wage to buy.

He had two cars behind him and, as they approached, he pushed a button on a metal box he held. To Rebecca's astonishment, the cars began to wobble and then slowly levitated off the ground. They only stayed up a few seconds before something failed and they crashed to the ground, but it was still the most amazing thing Rebecca had ever seen. The rest of the crowd clearly agreed as, together, they cheered and clapped for the achievement.

The show was apparently over after that, the man vanishing off the stage and the crowd slowly dispersing.

"Hey," Gordon said, sheepishly. "I really am sorry about that jerk. How about you let me treat you and Steve to a drink? It's the last night we're going to get to see you for a while too you know. Steve shouldn't get to hog all your attention."

"Alright," Rebecca said agreeably, smiling at him to let him know she had no hard feelings. She spun to look behind her. "Hey Steve, do you want-" Her voice trailed off as she found him nowhere in sight. She scanned the crowd and suppressed a groan at the sight of a recruitment center near one edge of the plaza.

Without a word she headed there, pushing her way through the crowd, and arrived just in time to see Steve step up on a small metal platform. There was a click and she saw his face cast onto the image of a faceless figure in uniform. Steve's shoulder's slumped as his own face came up almost a full head too short to appear where it should to make the image work.

She shoved his shoulder, knocking him forward, and grinned at him as he turned around. "Gordon wants to take us out for a drink." She intentionally ignored the image, and the recruitment center. "You want to go? Maybe we could go dancing after." She tried to keep a plea out of her voice as she asked. She loved dancing, but Steve always refused when she asked, claiming he was no good at it. It'd be nice if she could convince him before she left.

"You go ahead," Steve said, turning toward the entrance of the center. "I'll catch up with you."

Rebecca kept her smile on her face, covering the way her heart fell. He wasn't rejecting her, she knew. He wasn't thinking of her at all.

It hurt when she let herself think about it, and her next question carried the sting of it. "Are you really going to try this again?"

"It's a fair," he said with an easy grin, turning back toward her. "I got to try my luck don't I?"

No, Rebecca thought. You really don't.

"Who you going to be this time?" she asked, worry and frustration sharpening her voice. The biggest danger to Steve Rogers was Steve Rogers and it drove her crazy sometimes. "Steve from Idaho? Kansas? What are you going to do if they catch you?" A cold feeling settled in the pit of her stomach, along with more than a little resentment. She'd joined to protect him, and all he could think about was putting himself back in danger again. "Or, worse, they actually take you?"

This had been a terrible idea. What had she been thinking? The second she left Steve was bound to do something idiotic, and she wouldn't be there to save him. Did he even understand how much she did to get him out of the scrapes he got himself into? What would he do when she wasn't there?

"I know you don't think I can do this-" Steve started but Rebecca cut him off.

"It's a war, Steve, not some back alleyway." She put her hands on his shoulders, feeling the thin bones beneath his suit jacket. "It's not some game. I need to know you're going to keep out of trouble when I'm not here."

It was the wrong thing to say, and she knew it the second the words left her mouth. Steve made a disgusted sound and pulled away from her, casting a look about as if worried who might have overheard.

"I'm a grown man, Bucky," he said, wounded pride staining his voice. "I don't need you or Gordon or anywhere else protecting me like I'm some kind of little kid."

Crap. She should have realized he'd be upset about Allen. Steve had been trying to protect her and she and Gordon had stepped in and basically shoved him aside.

"I'm just worried about you," she tried to say. "I want you to be safe."

"No, you want me to go collect scrap metal in my red wagon like a good little boy," Steve said sharply. "You don't even see me as a man, do you?"

"Of course I see you as a man," Rebecca said. He had no idea how much she saw him as a man. "I just think-"

"That I'm weak," Steve said bitterly. "That I need a babysitter to keep me from getting a scrapped knee." He scowled at her, and an odd emotion entered his eyes. Rebecca couldn't define it, which was odd as she'd have sworn she knew all of Steve Roger's emotions. "Probably gets tiring, doesn't it?" He said, his voice strangely soft. "Having to chase me around all the time."

Rebecca blinked in surprise, struggling to switch to this new topic, unsure of what it even was. "What?"

"You heard me," he said. "Since when have you cared about the military, Buck? But all the sudden you're signed up and ready to go?"

"I told you." Rebecca frowned. What had she told him again? "You inspired me to want to serve so I-"

"Just cut the crap," Steve said, fatigued. "You're a terrible liar." He seemed to come to a decision and straightened, putting his shoulders back and lifting his chin in a defiant manner. "Why don't you just admit it already?"

"Admit what?" Rebecca asked blankly.

"That you got sick of it," Steve said flatly. "That you joined because you realized it was the one place I couldn't follow. Maybe you regret it, maybe you don't, but either way you joined because you wanted to get away from-"

She slapped him.

She didn't think about it. All she could think about was him lying on that bed, bone white and barely breathing. Of the gut clenching fear as she'd tried to find the medication he so desperately needed. Walking into that warehouse alone, all to pay a debt she'd incurred saving him.

Everything she'd done. Everything she'd given up, and he had the audacity…

The crack made by her hand striking his cheek faded and left a thick silence, hanging like a slowly widening chasm between them.

Rebecca tried to think of what to say, but no words would come.

In the end, it was Steve who broken the deepening quiet.

"There are men laying down their lives, Buck. I got no right to do any less than them. That's what you don't understand. I never asked you to protect me, and I don't need it. I can take care of myself."

The words were like knives, slicing into places deep inside her. Rebecca didn't know what to do with the wounds they left behind. Her entire life had revolved around protecting her best friend, trying to make sure he was safe and nothing could touch him.

"I see." Her voice sounded hollow, even to her own ears. "I thought-" She stopped. What had she thought? She wasn't even sure anymore. It felt like something in their relationship had shifted, moved, and she wasn't entirely sure to where. She swallowed past a sudden lump in her throat. "I'll see you when you get back."

She turned her back. Behind her, she heard Steve sigh.

"Bucky."

She ignored him. She never ignored him, but she did now. Gordon and Kathy were waiting twenty or so feet away, trying to pretend they hadn't noticed anything unusual.

Rebecca grabbed Kathy's arm and forced a shaky smile. "He's not coming. Let's go."

To their credit, neither said a word to her. They simply nodded and began to lead her away from the recruitment center.

She didn't look back.

Steve didn't follow.