A/N

Thanks for your patience, guys! We do our best to write but things get in the way a lot - nevertheless, here's the latest chapter! Also, edit fo those who might have read the first chapter while Kat was.. well.. Blonde. I chose a faceclaim for her, and now she's not blonde anymore! (It's Jessica Chastain if you're wondering - also I have no idea if I embed pictures here like with Ao3, but there's a couple edits on Ao3 if you're interested!) Thanks for reading!

The next real opportunity for Steve to push Bucky again was another village stop. A slightly larger village, this time; almost too large to visit its bar. But not quite. Bucky saw the signs brewing, though, and avoided Steve for most of the evening as they set up camp, and soldiers excitedly discussed leave in something almost resembling a real town. He knew there was only one real way to get Steve off of his back completely, though, so he headed off to find Kat shortly after he finished getting his tent set up.

Kat had just finished the backbreaking work of helping set up the medical tent and everything inside, and she was sitting out in the cool air with Debbie, some loose strands of her red hair stuck to her neck with sweat, when she saw Barnes coming. Debbie took about five extra seconds to notice the reason Kat had trailed off in the middle of a sentence before she patted Kat on the hand and gave an excuse about going to find Dr. Herman, and then made herself scarce. Kat was infinitely grateful for it, even though she knew that Barnes coming to see her was unlikely to be for any reason she wanted. Still, she smiled and stood as he got closer, lifting a hand to give him a little wave. "Hey, Barnes, you stub your toe, or did someone else get horribly maimed setting up a tent and you need our medical expertise?"

"Honestly, someone probably has maimed themselves," he said with a sigh. "But that's not why I'm here. Are you going to the bar tonight?"

"Oh," she said, surprised, "Uh, yeah, I was. I was just talking with Debbie about how to wear out Falsworth early so we don't have to dance through our shoes again. I had the worst blisters; he's a dancing menace."

"That bad?" he asked, leaning his shoulder against a tree. "That's miserable. You can't beg off?" He watched the way the winter sun caught her hair, the red tones shifting like it was alive.

She chuckled, crossing her arms across her chest as a breeze picked up, and shrugged. "He's not bad, just a little enthusiastic. I think there's someone he misses."

"I don't doubt it," he said with a smirk. "Want a hand fending him off? I can try to make you look occupied."

"I'll dance with him a couple times, just so Debbie gets out of there alive, but then I wouldn't say no to a little help," she smiled, though she wondered. Was there any particular reason he and Steve were remaining so friendly with her? Was it just to protect their secret, or did they genuinely want to be friends? She understood the first one, but she wished for the second.

He nodded just a little. "Alright, then. I'll see you tonight, then?" He stood again, looking at her expectantly.

She smiled a little wider and nodded back at him, reaching up to touch the little square band-aid on her chin absently, as if to check if it was still on. "Yeah, I'll see you tonight."

He went back and forth over picking her up at her tent over the course of the afternoon, but by the time night was falling and he was dressed, he found himself heading that way without too much thought. He slowed as he approached it, then sighed and reached out to rap on the tent pole.

Kat had told Debbie that Bucky had made plans to hang around at the bar that night, and Debbie had practically yanked her into their tent and thrust a red dress into her arms that she'd then explained she'd picked up in the last town for special occasions of her own. While Kat had tried to explain that this was not, in fact, a special occasion, her protests fell on willfully deaf ears. Debbie had not had the opportunity to dress up someone in far too long, she said forcefully, with her hands gripping Kat's shoulders, and "-Dammit, Kat, I'm not passing up this one!"

So when Kat yanked open the tent flap ready to scold Debbie for coming back again to adjust something, her hair was pinned perfectly, her makeup was applied perfectly, and her red dress was as perfect as you were going to get in the back woods of Germany. "Oh, fuck- Hey, Barnes, sorry, I was about to bite Debbie's head off. I get the pleasure of you as a chauffeur this evening?"

He was startled into silence for a moment, looking her over. It had been... fuck... How long? Since he'd seen a girl dressed up? He felt suddenly shabby in his old blue canvas jacket he hadn't bothered to change out of, and adjusted it slightly, before straightening and giving her a smile. "That was the idea. You look fantastic."

"Thanks," she chuckled, ducking fully out of the tent. "Debbie was like a tornado. She seems to have missed being able to doll up her friends," she added, smoothing down the hem of her dress. "I really gotta stop before I get as hammered as I was last time - I'm pretty sure she'll kill me if I rip this thing."

He laughed. "Probably," he agreed, offering her his arm. "Wasn't the plan to fend off Falsworth?" They started walking toward where groups of personnel were loading into jeeps.

Her cheeks had a faint pink-ish tone to them as she answered, "Debbie may be under the impression that you asked me out for a date, I think. I wasn't sure how to tell her that it wasn't. It's nice to dress up for once, anyway, I haven't been able nearly since I signed up."

"Oh, right," he said, nodding a little and glancing over at her. "It's not, then?" He walked over to a waiting jeep, digging the 'requisitioned' keys out of his pocket.

She looked over at him as if she was expecting him to break out into a knowing laugh at any moment, and looked rightfully confused when he didn't. "Well, I don't know. Is it?"

He shrugged, helping her up into her seat before walking around to the driver's side and climbing in. "I was thinking maybe, but that's up to you, I think, isn't it?" He started the jeep up, and pulled out onto the road.

She settled in, though she didn't know what to say for a moment. Yes, of course, she wanted to answer, but there was a very obvious reason that this wasn't a date, and she wasn't sure how to approach it. Finally, as the moment wore on and started becoming more awkward, she took a deep breath and bit the bullet and went for the direct approach. "I thought that you... weren't... uh, interested, I guess?" She got out, glancing over at him to gauge his reaction.

He glanced over at her, then back to the road. "Because of Steve?" he asked as they exited the smaller dirt road they were camped near and hit the paved road into town.

"Well, yeah," she shrugged a little, looking over at him with slightly worried green eyes. She didn't want to mess this up. "I thought that you guys were... I don't know, a thing, at the very least?"

He shrugged. "We are and we aren't. He's the one that suggested I take you out." He looked over at her briefly, trying to gauge her reaction, but quickly returned his eyes to the road.

"Oh," was all she said for a minute, her face one of mild, benign surprise. This was never a situation she would have thought to prepare for, certainly, but that didn't make it bad, or wrong. "Well," she said, finally, as the village came into view around a bushy corner, "As long as everyone's happy." She shrugged, as if it was nothing, and the smile came back to her lips. "I guess Falsworth is missing out. You've got yourself a date, Barnes."

He glanced over at her with a slight grin. "Good. I'm glad." He was trying to be, anyway. At the moment the best he could manage was a sort of distant feeling of being pleased with himself.

They pulled into a spot near the rest of the camp's vehicles, and she let him open the door for her and help her out again, and turned as Dr. Herman shouted her name from across the small gravel lot.

"Katherine!" He said again, wading closer through the throng, and she raised her eyebrows expectantly until he got closer.

At which point she asked, "What? If you lost your book again I don't know how I'm going to help you while we're here!" He shook his head, though his eyes strayed to Bucky briefly, registering brief surprise, before landing back at his employee, and he seemed to think better of what he was going to say.

"Ah, it's nothing, nevermind," he waved off, and she gave him a roll of the eyes that he always let her get away with. "Go - have fun. Not as much fun as the other night, but fun," he continued, with a finger pointed at her chin, and disappeared again into the throng before she could answer. She turned back to Barnes, rolling her eyes again.

"Brilliant surgeon, but damn does the man lose his books like it's goin' out of style. He's nice to us, though, which I wouldn't trade for anything except a better surgeon - luckily, he's got both under control," she said conspiratorially, her smile directed back up at Barnes again.

He smirked. "Yeah, he seems a good sort. Couple of the fellas say he has a steady hand, which they're pleased about. Haven't had the pleasure, personally, but no offense, I hope I never do." They walked in through the door of the bar and were met with a wall of noise and light and laughter. Bucky tensed slightly but didn't slow, just headed toward the bar proper.

She made a noise of agreement and then fell silent as the noise hit them, glancing over at Bucky as he led her through the crowd, a tension about him that he'd had the time he was shot. Like when she'd mentioned shellshock. She looked away as they reached the bar, smiling at the bartender and letting Bucky order their drinks. She would drink nearly anything these days, and she hadn't been picky in the first place.

He glanced at her, but when she didn't speak up he made the safe bet and ordered a couple of lagers, leaning on the scarred wood of the bartop and looking over at her. She was striking, he decided. She didn't look like his usual... anything. He wouldn't have picked her out of a crowd. But now that he had seen her, he found it difficult to stop following the line of her jaw, the crest of her cheekbone. Her face interested him, drew him in, guiding his eye. He realized he'd been staring too long and turned back to the bar gratefully as the bartender brought over their beers.

She kept her attention on the surrounding bar while he looked at her; she didn't have the confidence to look right back at him. When he looked away again she needlessly straightened the hem of her dress and took the offered pint with a smile. "Thanks. You know, I actually like this European beer better than the stuff at home? Is that strange?"

He shook his head a little, smiling. "No. It's stronger, I think. I like it better too. Do you want to sit somewhere, or stay here?"

She looked around at the pressing crowd and then past them, and jerked her chin towards the back corner. "I think I see a couple of seats in the corner over there. You game?"

"Lead the way," he agreed, relieved. He liked corners. There was no one to your back, and you could see most of the room. That particular corner had a line on the door as well, which he liked even better.

She nodded, tucked her lager in close, and then started forging through the crowd, apologizing halfway through to a pained Jones for stepping on his feet so hard, and then they finally broke through the throng and she sank into one of the old little wooden chairs and set her pint on the table. "There, that's quieter. Satisfactory for you?"

He sat across from her and nodded a little. "I appreciate it more than you know." He sipped at his beer, turning for a moment to look out at the room. Time was he would have been out there eager to dance and drink with the rest of them. It seemed foreign to him now.

She could imagine, judging by his past, but she just gave him a small smile and said nothing for a minute, taking a big swig of her drink. "So," she said finally, "Tell me about home, Barnes. I've never been to the Big Apple; not yet, at least. What's city livin' like?"

He smiled a little and leaned back. "I miss it. Out here is too... open. In the city you can see everything that's going on around you in detail. The landscape is predictable, so you can focus on the people more. Everyone is so close together, all different backgrounds, you can get a hundred perspectives on something without even trying." He sipped his beer. "What about the country life?"

"Not too different from tromping around in the middle of nowhere forests in Europe, except the food and the beds are a lot better," she chuckled, and shrugged a little. "I miss my woods, though. And having neighbors that you can relax around. Occasionally I even miss the chores."

He laughed at that. "You don't have enough work to do here? Don't let Herman hear you say that. He'll make sure you have plenty."

"It's not the amount, it's the subject," she chuckled, though she looked a little sad. "In the 107th, and before, when we were actually close to active combat on a regular basis, I.. Well," she shrugged with a rueful smile. "A lot of the young men I meet die. I miss things being a little less life and death, I suppose."

He nodded in agreement at that. "Yeah... I don't think anyone would disagree with you." he sighed softly, but then took a long sip of his beer and the melancholy was gone, back to stony amusement as he regarded the room. Someone started up a loud, blaring tune on a radio, and he watched as people shoved tables aside to make an impromptu dance floor.

She smirked slightly as the crowd cleared up the floor, locals and Commandos and the medical team all working together for the chance to have a little fun. Dernier and Sawyer were doing some quick translations whenever a villager couldn't think of the word in English or vice-versa, though Juniper looked to be doggedly trying to get a village girl to dance without knowing a lick of German. She pointed him out to Bucky with a chuckle. "You think he's got a chance?"

"Yes, actually," he said with a small laugh. "He's charming, and she can't understand enough to know he's an idiot."

She laughed heartily, nodding in agreement. "You're right, he's actually got an advantage like this. He can get by on his pretty face without his big mouth getting in the way for once. You know, most of you fellas have awfully big mouths, you know that? Rogers nearly swallowed his boot the night he drove me home. Really amusing," she chuckled, though she felt it went without saying that Bucky did not appear to have that problem. He seemed to have a direct line to blush control in her cheeks. Rogers did, too, if she was being honest, but it was a different kind of blushing. Without really trying to, her mind landed on the information that she'd received earlier: Steve had set this date up. Date. She wasn't sure what his game was, but at the moment she was willing to enjoy herself a little.

"We're big brash boys," he said, standing up. "Rowdy and belligerent, the whole nine." He offered her a hand up. "Feel like dancing?"

She took a big gulp of her beer and then stood in a hurry, hand finding his, grinning at the chance to dance with him again; the last time had been very nice during the parts she hadn't been embarrassed during. "Only so long as you make me look as good of a dancer as last time. Deal?"

"Me? I thought you were doing the dancing. I was just following along," he protested, pulling her out onto the floor with a smile.

"Flatterer," she rolled her eyes, but felt the slightest bit of warmth in her cheeks anyway, and fell easily into step with him. She was grateful for Falsworth's manic need to dance, now, though; she was back in practice, and didn't feel like she was slowing down Bucky like last time.

He saw Falsworth heading toward them as they hit the floor: he stuttered to a stop when he saw Bucky, considering for a moment. Then he turned away, though Bucky doubted it was a permanent retreat. The music shifted up a pace and he returned his attention to Kat. "So are there a lot of dances out in the country?"

Her smile grew into a grin. "Oh, Barnes, what else do you think we have to occupy ourselves? Yeah, there's a lot of dances in the country. Sure, I guess there's the radio to listen to, or books to read, but everyone's so far from their neighbors that a weekly visit to the dance hall is almost a social requirement. Missing a week to the flu or forgotten chores caused some tears a few times as a teenager, believe you me. What about the city? My friend Lucy went to NYC once, and came back showing everybody who would look the blisters on her feet from dancing, said that there was a hall on every corner. Not that I believe that bit, but," she shrugged, still smiling from ear to ear.

"She's more or less right," he said with a chuckle. "Within a five minute walk of each other at the most. They're all over. All sorts. Real fancy places, and places with nice restaurants, and dives with terrible bars. The works." He spun her out and back into him, giving her a small grin.

"I've never been to a fancy restaurant before," she chuckled, a little breathlessly, half of her attention on her footwork, "Or a dive bar. Passed them on trips to Rochester, but could only see in as we walked past. One's beyond my means and the other's not fit for ladies, as my Dad would say," she continued, and then her smile grew a little more amused. "Oh, my dad would hate you, Barnes. Respect you, maybe, but boy would he be steamed about ya."

"Oh?" he asked, lifting her into a spin and setting her down again, her skirt fanning out about them. "Why's that?"

"My dad doesn't like any smooth-talkin' boys," she replied, following his every lead with sure footing. "And he likes to be able to scare 'em. I don't think he could scare you, though."

"Hard to do that nowadays," he agreed with a nod. "As for smooth-talking... I can't contest that. He'd like Steve just fine, though."

"Sure, but I get the feeling he wouldn't scare Steve much, either," she smiled, glancing over her shoulder as they brushed by someone else.

"True." He looked up to see Falsworth wading through the crowd, and hid a sigh as he was tapped politely but firmly on the shoulder.

"Mind if I cut in?"

"Yes." He spun them away into the crowd before Falsworth could respond, and smirked a little. "I think he likes you."

"Oh, dear, I sure hope not," she laughed, waving genially at Falsworth before he disappeared again in the throng, "I really can't come home with a British man about to hit his thirties at my age - that one my Ma would get upset about. Settling down in Britain? She'd have my hide!"

"You don't really strike me as the type to settle down," he pointed out, his eyes on the room around them for a moment as he gauged the flow of the dance. "Someone who does as well as you do in the field... Can't see you being a housewife."

She sighed slightly, though was still smiling, doing her best to maintain her good mood. "Therein lies the problem, doesn't it? Once the war is over, what do I do with myself, right? Get married to one of the boys from my hometown? Fine, maybe, if they've seen action. I don't know if I would have much in common with anybody who stayed behind in the factories. But even then, I give up the job, right?" She sighed again, shaking her head. "I don't know what I'm gonna do, Barnes, I really don't."

He shrugged. "Eh. Steve and I 'll make sure you don't end up anywhere too horrific. Maybe you could come see New York or something." The music changed over and he slowed, taking a slow breath. "Beer break?"

"Yeah, please," she agreed, taking in a steadying breath after all the dancing and the sudden foray into territories she tried not to think about too often. He led her back to their corner, weaving in and out between people, and when she sank into the seat she was relieved to get the weight off her feet. Debbie's shoes pinched, just a little. "You know," she said as he sat across from her, "I would like to see New York City, at least the once. Won't turn down an invitation for a guided tour, certainly."

He nodded. "Soon as we're out of this mess," he offered. "Go see your family, then after a while come visit us. Or if you'd like a chance to... I don't know. If you want a buffer between... this.." He motioned around, referring to far more than the dance hall- "And them, then visit New York first."

She felt her chest warm at the offer, and gave him a soft, grateful smile. "I'll see you in the Big Apple, then. Not sure in what order I'll get there, but... Thanks, Bucky. If you ever had the hankering to see a little slice of country life, you and Steve can come out and we'll put you to work for a few days, huh?"

"You make it sound so appealing," he ribbed, finishing off his beer and nodding to her near-empty tumbler. "Want another one?"

"Don't worry, we'll make it up to you with my Ma's food. And yeah, that'd be great, thanks," she nodded cheerfully.

"Now you're talking," he agreed, standing and clearing their glasses, heading to the bar to get them refilled.

A/N

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