HALT! Another chapter was released today! Have you read it?

First NSFW chapter y'all!

Two days and an uneventful camp move later Kat pushed out of her tent in the middle of the night, a whirling cloud leaving her mouth at her heavy exhale. She wrapped her blanket around her a little tighter and started off towards the edge of camp, forcing her breathing to stay controlled, fighting off the fear and panic her dream had caused until she was further away from the sleeping ears of her friends and allies.

She reached the edge of the line of tents and stepped out towards the edge of the light and sank onto a convenient tree stump, and let her head fall into her hands, and she let the tears fall for the first time since she'd killed that man. Debbie had broken that same night - had had that struggle to accept her own mortality, to confront what could have been had Kat not acted so quickly, and Kat had kept herself together to help. Debbie had asked, tearfully, how she could stay so strong, how she could she not cry, and Kat had managed a slightly sad smile, and replied, "I'll get to it."

Bucky heard the crunch of snow long before he saw the source. He walked quietly to where he had heard it stop, uncertain of who he would find outside the camp this time of night. He stopped when he saw her, watching her- details perfectly clear in the darkness- as she shook quietly, hunched forward over her legs. He hesitated for a minute, then said quietly, "Kat... Bad night?"

She jumped, body snapping upright from her hunch, and her eyes landed on him. She rubbed furiously at her eyes for a moment, as if she could get rid of the evidence of her tears, and then reality hit her and her hands fell into her lap. "Yeah," she finally agreed, rasping slightly, and pulled her blanket tighter. "You?"

He shrugged a little. "Just a normal night." He left that open to interpretation and took a few steps closer. "Want the company, or some space?"

She was silent for a moment, unsure what she wanted herself, then she cleared her throat a little. "Some company would... Would be nice," she replied quietly. It sounded like he was used to dealing with his own shitty nights - she was sad she hadn't known about them until now.

He nodded just a little, looking around for a moment, before saying "It's cold as hell out. Do you want to go find somewhere warm?"

Part of her wanted to say no, to sit there and suffer a little, but the practical nurse in her nodded. "Yeah. Please."

"Do you mind my tent?" he asked, a genuine question. "I've got a camp stove for coffee."

"As much as my mother would yell at me for agreeing, no, I don't mind it," she chuckled dryly, wiping at the wetness on her cheeks and standing up off her stump.

He gave her a hand up, and kept it in his as they walked back into the camp, the occasional patch of snow catching imprints of their boots.

She let him lead her in silence, his hand warm around hers. They didn't hold hands too often, despite how often they spent in each others company - something she knew from the gossips back in the 107th was unusual for him. He'd been known for moving fast, before, but she was content to take it at a slow pace. Besides it being much better for her reputation, she knew that he had a lot of factors to contend with - mainly his capture by Hydra, and Steve. She pushed that from her mind for the moment. She was confused enough.

They reached his tent and he pulled back the flap, motioning for her to enter. It was surprisingly warm compared to outside, the tent keeping off the worst of the windchill. He entered behind her, walking over to crouch in front of the camp stove and start up the burner.

She entered and then stood there in the center of the tent, looking just a little awkward, unsure what to do with herself now that she was here. She wasn't quite sure where to sit, so she didn't. She looked for something to fill the silence, biting the inside of her cheek for a moment. Finally, she just went simple. "Thanks, for this. I..." she sighed. "I don't know. I don't know how to handle this."

He glanced over at her, and nodded to the cot. "Sit," he ordered, not unkindly. "I'd offer you a proper seat, but the couch got heavy after a few miles." He smiled and returned to filling a small kettle with water. "No one knows how to handle it."

She smiled a little, briefly, but her face fell into a grimace as he brought up handling it, and she sat without argument. "I knew it would be hard, I just... didn't think it would be this hard," she said softly.

He nodded just a little. "Do you want to talk about it?" He put the kettle onto the burner and shifted around, sitting on the ground to face her.

She took a deep breath then blew it all out, stalling for a moment. "I don't know. I'm not sure what there is to say."

"How about what you're thinking about?" he suggested, leaning against his pack where it was laid out on the ground.

She chuckled a little, lifting a hand out of her blanket-toga to rub at her eyes. "I'm thinking about how if Dugan or Pinkerton or any of the others saw me walk in here they're going to get totally the wrong idea, honestly. Maybe I'll even care about that tomorrow. Right now... I don't know. Nothing feels quite real." She shrugged slightly.

He nodded a little. "You did the right thing," he said quietly, watching her. "If they had taken Debbie they would have killed her, or worse."

She felt something twist in her chest at his words, and she clapped a hand over her mouth as a sob bubbled up in her throat, breathing in hard through her nose as the tears spilled over her cheeks again. She knew what had happened - had been there, after all. But it all felt like a bad dream until someone said it aloud, told her that it had been him or Debbie, and that she had made the right choice. She bent back over herself again, just trying to keep herself mostly quiet, to avoid waking anybody up.

He stood, then, tossing propriety to the wind, and sat next to her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her against his side. "Be quiet if you like, but let it out," he said softly. "It's fine. You know I understand."

She leaned into his side, nodding a little through another muffled sob, and proceeded to cry through the next five minutes, until the kettle started to boil. The whistle helped to interrupt her enough that she wound down a little, her heaving breaths settling, the tear flow subsiding somewhat. She wiped at her face a little, sniffling. "Better get that before we wake someone up," she murmured, nodding to the kettle.

"They can stuff it," he muttered, but he stood up, walking over to remove the kettle and turn off the stove, tossing in a bag of coffee to steep, and digging around for a couple of mess kit cups.

She continued working on putting herself together while he got the coffee together, drying her face on the edge of her blanket and taking a couple deep sniffs to clear her nose. She wasn't looking forward to having to return to her tent, if she was being honest. There wasn't much of a choice, but she wished she could just stay here, distract herself all night with his presence. She rubbed her eyes again, sighing silently.

He handed her a cup a few minutes later. "Sugar?" he asked, offering a small bag. He was relaxed, his hair just long enough to get into his eyes, unphased by her tears.

Her eyes widened at the sight of the bag. "You have sugar? Yes, please," she chuckled a bit, mood improving a little, though her eyes were still red, and reached out to gently take the bag. She opened it and was still pleasantly surprised when she found it was, indeed, sugar, and took only a slight pinch of it to drop into her coffee. She hadn't had sugar in her coffee in almost a year, she thought. "Where did you get this?"

He smiled a little. "The quartermaster back in the 107th felt bad for me when I got back. Didn't like his pity, but didn't argue the results." He shrugged. "Seemed to think it was his patriotic duty. I hate black coffee. It worked out." He put a little in his own, and carefully wrapped the bag up in the oilcloth pouch he stored it in.

She swirled her cup a little, looking tentatively excited, and after a moment of blowing air across the surface of the liquid to cool it off, she took a sip. "Mmm," she hummed, "God, I missed sugar. I have a terrible sweet tooth. Black coffee was a rough adjustment for me."

He nodded. "I can say the same. Never liked it. Still don't. But it keeps me awake." He sat on the bed again, his knee brushing hers, and wasn't really sure where the next sentence came from when he said, "You said you were worried about Dugan getting the wrong idea?"

She blushed, though she did still look amused, and nodded. "I wouldn't put it past him to rag on me, if he saw. I don't think he did, or anybody else, but it's not like they haven't seen us together during leave. People tend to make assumptions."

He nodded, putting his elbows on his knees, both hands on his coffee as he sipped it and said, "What if they didn't get the wrong idea?"

She raised her eyebrows slightly at him, taking another sip of coffee. "What do you mean?"

"If they're going to make assumptions anyway, why care whether or not they're right?" he asked, looking over at her calmly. "I guess I'm asking if you'd like to stay the night."

"Because if they haven't seen me yet, they'll see me in the morning," she pointed out, though she didn't sound particularly convinced by her own argument, and her cheeks were burning at the thought. She wasn't sure exactly what staying the night would involve when it came to him. She'd slept with a guy or two before - she was 25, after all - but never under these circumstances. It had been a dry couple of years in the WAC.

"True," he agreed, sipping his coffee again and falling quiet, eyes on the tent wall, just waiting to see if she said anything further. He wanted her to stay. More than he had wanted anything in a long time- though that wasn't saying much. He wanted her to forget everything, and to see if he could, too. Before the war he would have already talked her into his bed. Now... He sipped his coffee.

She was silent for a minute, biting her lower lip as she hesitated, and then she took another, steadying sip of coffee, and let out a long breath. "Fuck it, though," she said finally, resting her cup on her lap and studying it to avoid having to look directly at him. "They can tease all they want. I'll remind them it's my hands stitching them up when they trip and fall."

He grinned into his mug as he drank, the dregs thick but warm. He looked forward to seeing that. "I knew there was a reason I liked you."

She laughed quietly, smirking. "I'll get Debbie to back me up. We'll be the scariest two nurses this side of the Atlantic."

He nodded, setting his tin mug aside. "It wouldn't surprise me in the least." He looked over at her, and then reached out, catching her chin gently and turning her face to look at him. "So you'll stay, then?"

She blushed again, butterflies making themselves known in her stomach, and she fought the urge to pull away just so she didn't have to meet those stunning, intense blue eyes. "Yes," she whispered in response, and swallowed. "Yes, l'll stay."

He nodded, not saying anything, just leaning in to kiss her. She tasted like coffee, and a little sugar, and he swore he was going to try and forget things for a while.

She kissed him back, without hesitation, still clutching her half-finished coffee but now too busy to do anything about it. Her free hand, the one not holding her beverage, came up to slide slowly into his hair, encouraging.

She responded immediately, and that eased something in him. It had been a long time since he'd kissed anyone properly. A short kiss with her after that time at the bar, a few stolen kisses with Steve when they knew it was safe, but other than that... It was exhilarating to feel even that much closeness with someone after so long.

Kat was a little relieved to find that he didn't pull away after the initial kiss (it had been a long time since she'd really kissed anybody, and she was worried she was out of practice) and leaned further into him, deepening the kiss a little. If she was going to ruin her reputation, she better make it worth it.

He reached with one hand to take her coffee and set it carefully aside, before pulling her closer. Now that he was touching her he was realizing exactly how much he had missed touch. He slid hands around her waist, palms spread flat.

She gave it up eagerly, winding her newly free arm around his neck, the blanket around her shoulders slipping down to her waist. With the slightly colder air at her back, she pressed in towards his warmth, happy for an excuse to get closer to him.

He pulled away long enough to catch his breath, forehead resting against hers. "Before we get into things... How far do you want this to go?"

She hadn't had many of these encounters, but the boys she'd had them apparently hadn't possessed an ounce of manners; she'd never been asked that question before. Then she laughed a little, breathlessly, shaking her head against his slightly. "Bucky, if I'm gonna put my name on the line, I'd rather their assumptions be correct than be unable to convince them I'm a blushing virgin. I'll take as much of you as you'll give me," she told him, her hand falling from his hair to curl into the collar of his shirt.

"Good," he said with a sigh, kissing her again, pulling her over into his lap.

She ignored the blanket as it half fell onto the floor, straddling his waist without much more encouragement, kissing him a little harder, letting out a soft sigh against his lips.

He leaned back, pulling her with him and relishing the feel of her warm weight on top of him. He traced fingers up her spine, pressing enough to be felt through the wool of her shirt.

Her hand slipped from his collar to pull a little at the shoulders of his jacket, a silent request to get rid of it, a quiet desperation starting a fire in her belly. Now that it was happening, she realized just how much she needed this, needed him.

He moved his hands away from her for a moment to start unbuttoning his coat, cold fingers fumbling slightly, but managing well enough.

She shifted away from him just for a moment to help him from the bottom up, meeting him in the middle before pushing his coat off his shoulders, then leaned in to kiss him again, slipping her hands under his shirt.

He sighed happily at her cool hands against skin that was irritated from chafing against the wool of their uniforms. He kissed the corner of her neck, his hands finding the buttons of her shirt, working downward.

She nipped playfully at the corner of his jaw as he started to work on getting rid of her shirt, her skin burning under the fabric, and shifted in his lap, to grind down on him in the slightest movement imaginable. Shy, but not that shy.

He let out a surprised breath against her skin, and smiled, his hands finding her skin beneath the fabric, tracing over her ribs.

She shivered at the contact, and after a moment of trailing kisses across his neck, pulled back again to get rid of her shirt entirely, letting it drop off the side of the cot before biting her bottom lip and eyeing Bucky's still-clothed chest. "The shirt's gotta go, I think," she mused, and while she had technically seen him shirtless before, this was a whole different game. She could actually look this time, could actually let the desire show through on her face, even if she did still blush.

"That so?" he asked, looking her over slowly. "I'll trade you for the bra," he suggested, grinning.

She felt her cheeks heat up again and smiled, stifling a giggle to try and maintain a little dignity. "Same time?"

He laughed quietly, leaning back and starting to work on his buttons. "Better get started, then. I'm already ahead."

"I'm showing more skin than you at the moment, if you hadn't noticed," she retorted, though she was grinning, and reached behind her to unhook her bra before slipping it off her shoulders and letting the bra fall onto her shirt on the floor.

He slowed, then, buttons forgotten for a moment, just taking her in. She was beautiful. He was certain that some of his ardor was due to the months and years away from the comforts of home, but he had had women now and then in the stretch. This was different. This eased some things that had been festering since... He stopped his thoughts there. He was forgetting that for now. He returned quickly to unbuttoning his shirt, smile easy again. "You're right. You have less buttons, in fairness."

She blushed fiercely under his gaze, the shyer part of her itching to grab the blanket on the ground for some cover, but she pushed through the insecurity and then he was smiling again and she relaxed a little. "I didn't think to bring a coat with me, just the blanket, so less layers," she shrugged, smirking, leaning forward a little and letting on hand fall to hook into his belt loop.

"You've got to be cold," he offered, finally managing to extricate himself from his shirt and setting it aside. He reached out, sliding his hands up her sides, thumbs tracing under her breasts gently, just admiring her for a moment.

She shivered once, though whether it was from the cold or the way his hands felt on her skin, it wasn't clear. Her eyes were running down Bucky's chest, her lower lip trapped between her teeth as she took him in. He was just a little more well-built than her previous bed-mates, though with the war and the fact that she was half in the lap of a serumed man, she couldn't make herself feel too surprised. God, though, was he all muscle and broad shoulders. "Yeah, I am cold," she agreed, and pulled at his belt. "Come here?"

He smiled, leaning into her tug and pulling her against him until they were brushing up against each other, wrapping his arms around her to lend her some warmth and leaning down to kiss her again. "Let me help warm you up?" he suggested, perfectly content to be cliché.

She couldn't resist the giggle that caused, but she nodded, "Please," and kissed him back eagerly, her hands dragging down his chest, letting her hips settle more firmly onto his with a squeeze of her hands against his skin.

He shifted, pulling her with him as he laid back on the cot and kicked a blanket up over them, still kissing her, though his hands found her waistband, fingers dipping beneath inquisitively.

She ground down on him again, one hand bracing herself a little on the round of his shoulder, the other slipping between them to start unbuttoning his pants. Then her nurse training kicked in, and between kisses and catching her breath, she breathed out "Please tell me you've taken advantage of the quartermaster's condom handouts," against his lips.

He laughed, and pushed her off to the side gently. "You stay here and get undressed," he suggested, sitting up and rolling off his bed to go over to his pack.

"Thank god," she muttered to herself, though obviously amused, and beginning to wriggle under the blanket to get out of her pants and kick her boots off the side of the cot, leaving her in her underwear. "Oh, if that guy who told me it wasn't moral signing up for the WAC could see me now," she chuckled, watching him dig through his pack, his backside just as pleasant to look at as his front.

He emerged victorious, and set about removing his boots. "Nothing immoral about a good old-fashioned celebration of hedonism," he said with a smirk.

"Jack might disagree, but I'm not with Jack right now," she shrugged, grinning, propped up on her elbow, the blanket conforming to her curves.

He stripped off his trousers and climbed back into the bed and under the blanket, already getting cold again out in the biting air. He set the condom in reach and went back to kissing her, though this time he started at her neck and worked downward, nipping playfully as his hands found her underwear and tugged questioningly.

She lifted her hips in permission, head tilted back to give him greater access, her hand wandering down his front before cupping him through the fabric of his underpants, fingers squeezing lightly.

His hips jolted forward and he made a surprised noise, breath catching in his chest. It had been a long time since he'd even had the energy or will to do anything personally, much less someone else. He worked her underwear off, more urgent now, desire flaring up in him, as explosive as it was unexpected.

She helped him kick her underwear off, her heart rate picking up, especially at the sound he made, and she squeezed him again lightly to try and get it out of him again before shifting to kiss under his jaw, teeth scraping his skin ever-so-gently.

"Kat..." he breathed against the dip of her collarbone, moving to try and get his boxers off, his free arm shifting to support his weight off of her.

She hooked her fingers into his waistband and helped him extricate himself from them, and then they were skin against skin, and she rolled her hips up into his, looking for a little friction.

He obliged, his hips returning the movement. He fumbled around for where he had left the condom, patience steadily declining, and rolled aside to put it on, determined to not have to disentangle himself again. Then he was back over her, regaining warmth, his breath mingling with hers and condensing in the cold air as he leaned up to kiss her again.

She kissed him hard and a little bit desperately, the craving to be as close to him as was physically possible building in her chest. "Touch me?" She breathed in between kisses, just the hint of pleading in her voice.

He didn't say anything, but shifted until he could slide a hand between her thighs, fingers brushing against her center, exploring gently.

Her breath hitched, one hand sliding into his hair, the other wrapping around his length, and she was suddenly even more glad that she'd asked for him to touch her. He was just a tad bigger than she'd been expecting.

He let out a soft sigh that turned into a bit of a moan as she touched him again. He felt good , for the first time in a long time. He circled the tip of his finger around her entrance, and then slid into her slowly, letting her dictate the speed of things.

She dragged her fingers over his scalp, breath shuddering, her hips shifting up into his hand, her own hand twisting around his cock, grip growing a little firmer as she gained confidence.

He rolled against her hand, forehead pressing against hers. "That feels amazing..." He curled his finger, stroking to match her pace.

"Doin' wonders for my ego, there," she chuckled breathlessly, groaning a little as she sped up the pace and was rewarded in kind, and she shifted again, adjusted enough to begin to hunger for more.

"Can I..." He trailed off, then rolled his hips against her hand slightly, indicative, his attention on the heat surrounding his fingers, and on her touch setting a long-dormant desperation ablaze.

"Yes, please," she whispered, breath coming a little harder in anticipation, and she dropped her hand from him to wrap her arm around his neck and urge him close enough to kiss, ignoring the slight stretch of her grazed shoulder.

He let her shift, waiting until she seemed comfortable, content to kiss her, be near her, to feel the light scratch of fingers and wool blankets against his back. Then he settled lower, thighs brushing hers briefly before that sensation was lost in the feeling of her around him. He let out a caught breath against her lips, shoulders tensing slightly.

She groaned as he pushed into her, fingers tight on his skin for a moment, hooking her legs around his hips, and then the impatience hit her and she closed the scant distance between them to kiss him solidly, rolling her hips up into his.

She grappled him and he smiled, his body pressed against hers pleasantly, plane against plane. He let her kiss him, let her drive forward, happy to be the subject of her aggressive affection as they made each other feel whole.

This was not where she'd seen the night going when she'd given up on sleeping an hour prior, but damn was it a pleasant surprise, and a much needed one. She needed the distraction - needed him. She hadn't even realized how much she'd been wanting his touch like this.

He was expecting things to fall into rapidity fueled by two dry spells colliding, but to his surprise he found himself wanting to move just a little slower, hold out just a little longer, savoring the healing warmth of physical contact. He tucked his forehead against her neck, taking in the smell of her skin as they moved.

She muffled her soft moans against his shoulder, clinging tightly to him without restricting his movement. She'd had a few encounters of this like, but they'd all been rushed and usually unideal circumstances, and while the circumstances here weren't ideal, she felt nothing but warm and relieved, the only urgency the pleasure burning in her core.

He laughed as the blanket almost fell off of them, pausing just a moment to haul it back into place. He was getting worked up now, cheeks red with exertion and cold, body plenty warm, and he could feel himself getting close. "Not gonna last a hell of a long time... sorry about that..." He breathes. "It's been a while. But I promise I'll... get you off..."

She laughed, too, and chuckled a bit more at his words, kissing the edge of his jaw. "It's been a while for me, too, soldier - I think you'll find it's not gonna take much," she said breathlessly, nipping his shoulder playfully, shifting slightly underneath him and gasping a little as she changed the angle, and she buried her face in his shoulder to keep herself from making too much noise.

"Oh good," he murmured, a one hand cupping the back of her head, holding her closer, shifting a knee underneath him to get more leverage. His body was lighting up at her touch, nerves ecstatic.

She swore with another gasp as she started to get closer and closer, heart pounding in her chest, one arm locked around his neck and the other holding tight at his back, fingers clutching his side. "Bucky..."

Her voice in his ear surprised him, and then he hit the edge and careened off of it without slowing down, muffling the noises he made in her shoulder.

She couldn't pinpoint exactly what made her hit the edge, but she went over it anyway, panting against his skin, nearly trembling with the intensity of it.

They moved together for what seemed like a long time, cresting over waves, before finally they stilled, breathes mingling roughly, steam in the cold air.

She relaxed eventually, breath shuddering, skin cool with a light sheen of sweat, and she ran a hand through Bucky's hair. "Fuck, Bucky, now I get why none of those girls never came after you later with a knife. Fuck."

He laughed quietly, kissing her shoulder. "Much of that can be attributed to your skill, not mine, I think," he retorted, rolling off to the side after a moment to give his arms a break. "Fuck indeed..."

There wasn't much room to be had side-to-side on the cot, so she rolled onto her side, tucked up into him still, legs entangled with his, and let out a long breath, eyes fluttering closed. "Well, that should make sleep easier, at the very least," she chuckled softly, eyes shut.

"Good," he said, shifting her closer until she could relax without falling off the cot, and tucking the blanket carefully around them both. "Sleep, then."

She nodded sleepily and burrowed into him slightly before falling still, apparently having dropped off to sleep instantly.

A tent over, Steve was lying rigid in the dark, his cheeks hot with embarrassment and something else he didn't want to look too closely at. He'd heard the muffled sounds of Bucky with a girl before, back in Brooklyn, in their tiny apartment with the thin walls. Back then, he hadn't felt anything besides an exasperation, a hint of jealousy, and a desire to be somewhere more quiet. Now? He didn't know what it was, but Christ, was he trying very hard to make his dick a little less interested. Baseball stats, of course, were his go-to, but the sounds of Bucky and Kat making love not fifteen feet away was surprisingly difficult to ignore. Damn his hearing. He forcefully unlocked his body a little as the sounds died down and rolled onto his side, away from Bucky's tent, and stared into the darkness for a few minutes before deciding that deciphering what was going on with his body and his head would wait for another time, and settling back in to sleep.