Glossary:
Up to specs - short for "up to specifications"; it means up to code, correct, proper, etc.
"Come on, Bucky, wake up. We've got to get moving if we're going to make the rendezvous," Queenie said, shaking Bucky firmly but sympathetically. She hated to have to wake him, after all that he'd done for her last night, but it couldn't be helped. "I've let you sleep as long as I could, but we really have to go."
Bucky sat up and scrubbed the sand from his eyes, and Queenie grimaced empathetically, since she too felt like she'd only just closed her eyes too. Glancing around, he saw that Queenie really had waited as long as possible, packing everything up for them so that all he had to do was get up and get his gear.
"You did all that with one bum arm?" he asked, stretching and seizing his pack. Queenie was steadfastly not thinking about how his muscles roiled and shifted as he moved with a grace that belied his size. A ration was sitting on top of his bag and he quickly scarfed down the breakfast. She turned away reluctantly.
"Oh, please. S'not like I've had to do more with less," Queenie muttered nonchalantly, trying to downplay it. Yet as Queenie shouldered her own pack, she was unable to repress a hiss of discomfort and pain. That morphine really didn't last that long, huh? Bucky crooked an empathetic smile at her.
"How are you feeling?"
"I'll feel much better once we meet up with the others. Let's move, Sarge," Queenie answered brusquely, knowing that even if she complained, there was nothing else to do for her injury. Besides, they had to get a move on. She mentally shook herself and kicked out that little voice that melted at his care and concern.
"Yes, ma'am!"
As she let Bucky lead, carefully picking their way through the forest, Queenie took stock of herself. Her arm throbbed a bit, but that was normal, and she'd already checked it and changed the bandage. Her muscles ached from yesterday's hard and long sprint, but she had already stretched and massaged them while on watch, so all that was left was to just keep moving and work out the kinks that way. Speaking of watch… Queenie stared at Bucky's back shrewdly. He'd taken more than his fair share of guard duty last night, and it was only her awakening on her own that forced him to take his turn to rest. He was thoughtful, kind, discerning, and not hard on the eyes either… that voice was dangerously close to sounding like it was gloating.
"Alright, LT, we're gonna pick up the pace," he warned.
Queenie nodded in response and the two began to jog as quietly as possible through the brush as it grew sparser. Queenie was thankful for the increased pace, since chanting inhale, quiet, exhale, quick, over and over in her head allowed her to push away any thoughts on one James Buchanan Barnes. So focused on her chant that the journey was over relatively quickly for her. They found most of the team already at the rendezvous under a great oak tree. Despite being nearly three in the morning, the fellas were surprisingly chipper and seemed to have been chatting quietly prior to Bucky and Queenie's arrival.
"Queens, Buck, right on time. We're just waiting on Gabe and Dernier," Steve greeted them with a smile. "Our ride is 3 minutes out."
Queenie nodded before seeking out Dum Dum as Bucky went to talk to Steve. A patient needed her, not the man who'd sewed her up with the utmost care last night.
"Dugan, how are you holding up? Let me see your wound," Queenie insisted, heading for the wounded man.
"I'm good right now, LT. How about we wait til we're on the truck before risking the light?" Dugan replied, tossing her a saucy grin. But Queenie saw the glisten of sweat on his forehead and knew he'd have a sunken pallor by this time. She doubted he'd even removed the bullet and instead powered through.
"Fair enough, but the minute you're settled…" Queenie's voice was dark with warning.
"I know, Ma, I know." Dugan's belly laugh was muted but let her know that he wasn't in too bad of a shape, if his sense of humor was still intact. Queenie opened her mouth to tell him so, but Steve interrupted the soft banter.
"There they are," the captain said as the two missing members of their team jogged up. "Alright everyone, get ready for pickup."
Queenie grew aware of the quiet rumble of an engine. As it grew closer they all tensed, ready to jump into the truck the moment it appeared so it didn't have to stop. As soon as the truck came into view, Jim and Dernier jumped into it before holding out their arms for Dugan. Bucky gave Dugan a boost, and the two in the truck caught him, before following him into the transport. Bucky then extended a hand to her, which she quickly grasped and leapt in beside him, sucking in a sharp breath as her left arm was jarred. James, Gabe and Steve clambered in last, and Dernier thumped the wall separating them from the driver to signal that they were set.
As the vehicle sped up, Queenie turned to Dugan, kneeling on the floor of the back of the truck. Jim helpfully shone a flashlight for her, and she unwrapped the bandage. Everyone else was seated on benches lining the walls of the truck as she remained kneeling on the floor beside the injured man. The canvas covering over their heads kept the elements out and hid them from sight. Queenie's mind registered all of this even as she bent over the wound to inspect it.
"I'm gonna have to get the bullet out," Queenie announced. "Buck, you've got the steadiest hands and also the most experience helping me. I'll need you for this. Dugan, it's a miracle you're still as chipper as you are." Queenie glanced up and watched the beads of sweat on his forehead drip into his collar and narrowed her eyes at him. Frowning, she took his temperature and began checking his other vitals, her training reasserting itself. He was stable - for now - but she didn't want to wait any longer. Who knew how much blood he'd already lost? From his pale face, at least a pint. The bullet was pretty deep and her probing tweezers combined with the unsteady truck agitated the wound and caused blood to begin seeping again. But she fought to make quick work of the wound, Bucky a quiet and steady support, knowing that they had to work fast to prevent further blood loss. While Dugan did have to bite down on a piece of wool to keep from crying out, at least he didn't pass out, a fact he relayed with a small grin after he'd been patched up. Queenie rolled her eyes.
"Typical of you to find something to crow about," she commented dryly as he chuckled. But she grunted as the truck bounced on the rough road, making everyone inside jerk about.
"Say, Queens! Is that a bandage on your arm?" Gabe asked suddenly, as the flashlight dipped and revealed the white cloth on her sleeve. Queenie subtly bit her lip and turned her attention to her tools.
"Yes, but it's been taken care of," Queenie replied, not looking up as she put away things in her kit.
"Did you operate on yourself?" James asked curiously.
"I dug the bullet out, but Bucky had to sew me up. And for the record, I didn't pass out either," she replied, winking at Dugan, who chuckled. She scooted back along the floor to her spot in the truck, but the exertion of the run, to the jump into the truck, to operating on Dugan, left her too tired to get up on the bench. She stayed on the floor instead, too exhausted to even register who was sitting next to her.
"We've been hitting HYDRA pretty fast and hard," Steve changed the subject. "I think we could use a break before getting the rest of the bases. We should lie low, anyway, so that will give the two of you time to heal," Steve continued, nodding respectfully to Queenie. "Well done, LT."
Queenie rewarded him with a small tired smile, before leaning back against the bench behind her and closing her eyes.
At one point, the truck hit a deep rut and Queenie awoke just enough to register the fact that she didn't move too much even though the chassis bobbed beneath her. She was leaning against something soft and comfortable and a hand was wrapped around her shoulder, keeping her steady, and she was deliciously warm and cozy...
'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'
"Queenie! At last! It's been ages since I've seen you, darling!" Majorie shrieked as she laid eyes on her best friend. Queenie winced playfully as Majorie wrapped Queenie in a tight hug before pulling back. "Let me look at you. Have you lost weight? I knew it; you haven't been eating properly! You never do, you idiot, now come on. I'll take you to the Whip and Fiddle and put some good hot food in you."
"Majorie, Majorie! Calm down. I'm just fine. I have been eating, I swear. It's all the running I've had to do that's been so good for my figure," Queenie laughed, hugging Majorie once more. "But I won't say no to an evening with you. However, I need to check in with Captain Rogers first."
Majorie assented, and looped her arm through the other's as they strolled down the hallway. The underground headquarters in London remained just as busy as Queenie had left it.
Upon their return, the Howling Commandos had reported to Colonel Phillips but Queenie had slipped away from the others, as she wasn't needed just then, in order to find Majorie. Now they made their way back to the main room, where the rest of the team still waited. Steve was deep in conversation with the Colonel and Peggy, but Bucky had moved toward the map on the wall by the door. His face lit up when he saw them and the two girls joined him at the map.
"Hello, ladies," he drawled as they giggled. "What brings such beautiful dames like yourselves my way?"
"Oh, don't start with me, mister. I'm not available," Majorie answered, jutting her chin forward with a smile. Queenie turned to her best friend at once, eyes wide.
"What?" Queenie exclaimed softly, trying to be quiet for the sake of the others working in the room. "What do you mean, you're not available? What happened while I was gone?"
"Oh, nothing… just that Sam from down the hall asked me out on several dates, and I said yes, and now… well now, he's my beau." Majorie wrung her hands bashfully, but Queenie wasn't fooled by Majorie's hedging. Queenie was never opposed to teasing Majorie, especially considering how big of a flirt the other girl was.
"Sam from down the hall… unbelievable. Sergeant Barnes, would you be so kind as to assist me in some endeavors?" Queenie glanced at him in mock displeasure.
"Why, Lieutenant, it would be my great pleasure. What'd you have in mind, doll?" Bucky gave a slight bow to her, a huge grin on his face. He eagerly played along with Queenie's game.
"I need to vet this 'Sam from down the hall.' Need to make sure he's up to specs for my girl. Nothing but the best will do for her. I also have to inform him that if he breaks her heart, I'll break his face. He's got to know what he's getting into with her, you see," Queenie answered seriously at which Bucky nodded, just as solemn. Majorie snorted.
"Queens, honey, trust me. No one ever knows what they're getting into when it comes to me," she threw back. Queenie rolled her eyes.
"Ain't that the truth," Queenie muttered to Bucky, who chuckled. Majorie grabbed Queenie's arm, mouth open to say something. However, Majorie had grabbed the wound on Queenie's arm at just the right place to cause a shooting pain through her arm. Queenie sucked in a sharp breath of pain, face contorting and body swaying, and Bucky's smile immediately grew worried, as he slipped a steady hand under her other elbow to support her.
"Queenie?" Majorie asked in alarm, snatching her hand away from Queenie's arm. "Queenie, are you hurt? Oh, dear Lord in heaven, why didn't you say something? We've got to get you medical attention!" Majorie seized Queenie's hand and led the other two out of the room to a smaller room where they could talk in peace. Queenie saw why Majorie picked the room - a first aid kit was within handy reach. She knew she had to speak quickly before Majorie insisted on completely redressing the wound.
"Majorie, I'm fine, I've already taken care of it. In fact, Bucky here even stitched me up, so he can testify! I'm going to be alright, dear. Don't fuss."
"Don't fuss? Don't fuss? Lieutenant Ethel Grace Smith, who will fuss if not me? Heaven knows it's bad enough with me worrying about you and not knowing where you are and if you're alright, and then not even knowing when you return and when you leave!" Majorie broke away, voice catching on a sob as she wrapped her arms around herself, not meeting Queenie's eyes. Queenie's eyebrows puckered as she looked at her friend in apology. Queenie realized with a start what it must be like for Majorie to have to watch her best friend leave on secret missions without any sort of reassurance. And then a wave of guilt swept over her.
"Aw, Majorie, honey…" Queenie soothed, wrapping her arms around Majorie. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know that they never told you… we've been just blowing and going and attacking these missions like there's no tomorrow, and I never thought about how you're handling it! We never see each other anymore."
"You're damn right we never do. A-and I'd like to think you owe me that much, letting me know you're alive at the very least! It's not like I've spent the last two years with you, training and then traveling Europe," Majorie sniffled. Queenie pulled a piece of cloth from her pocket to hand to Majorie. Queenie knew she'd feel the exact same way if it had been the other way around and felt a new stab of sympathy.
"Majorie, I'm sorry I've been so unfeeling toward you. Tell you what," Queenie pulled away and grabbed Majorie's hands, "My evening is yours to do with as you please. Bring Sam if you like when we go to the Whip and Fiddle. If you want me to wear the bombshell dress again, I will. Want me to dance? I'll do cartwheels. You're the best friend a girl could ask for, darling!" The girls hugged once more before Majorie broke away. Queenie vowed to herself to be more aware of Majorie and to be less selfish in only thinking of herself. A small voice reminded her that there was another person who occupied her thoughts very frequently, but Queenie ignored it as Majorie turned back to face her.
"But, aren't you very tired? I won't make you dance if you don't want to." Majorie's face scrunched in motherly concern.
"Well, when have I ever been shy about telling you when I'm done? If I say I'm game to do something, then I'm game to do it. Otherwise I'll tell you," Queenie laughed. "Besides, if Sam comes, it's not like I'll have anyone to dance with. I'm not going to take your beau from you."
"Oh, no, if I'm dancing, you must dance. We have to find you a partner. Say, Bucky," Majorie broke off, a coy smile growing as she turned to the Sergeant, who'd been watching with a light in his eyes, "You free this evening?"
"I am. But if you don't mind," Bucky leaned forward conspiratorially and continued in a loud whisper to Majorie, "I'd like to not be coerced into asking Queenie to be my date tonight. I want her to know that I'm asking her, not you asking me to ask her."
"Oh, good, very good point," Majorie stage-whispered back. "I'll leave you two to it then." With an exaggerated wink, Majorie practically waltzed out of the room. "See you at seven, doll!" she called over her shoulder to them.
"Well, now that we're alone," Bucky began, giving her a slow grin that made Queenie's insides twist, "Miss Smith, I would be honored and delighted if you would be my date this evening. We would go to the Whip and Fiddle for food and dancing, or we could simply get food and then take a walk. Will this please you?"
"It would please me indeed, Mr. Barnes. I would love to accompany you tonight. Shall we say seven?" Queenie played along to his formal theme, but her heart was racing. His nearness thrilled her even as she tried to ignore it. The nagging voice was back, but she clapped a firm hand over its screaming.
"Seven on the dot, and not a moment later. I'll call for you up at your place, then," he said. Maintaining eye contact with her, Bucky picked up her hand and lingeringly kissed it, the old fashioned gesture not at all as gross as Queenie once thought it to be.
"I shall count the minutes!" he teased with his usual grin and saucy wink before he departed. Queenie was left staring at her tingling hand, where she could still feel his lips pressing softly. What on earth am I to do with him? He's far too wonderful for my own good.