31 December 1941
Christiane set about putting the table together. She set the timer on for Anya's famous apple tart in the oven. Steve folded the napkins, filling up a jug of water and placed small bright red leaves he found in the park as trinkets for each person.
"It's a shame Anya couldn't be here today," Steve moved around, adjusting the cutlery.
"She has some business event to attend to," Christiane waved her free hand, balancing the other with a bread basket.
Steve looked around to the clock on the wall, furrowing his eyebrows, "I wonder where Bucky is. He said he'd just be a few minutes but it's been an hour."
Meanwhile at Steve and Bucky's apartment
Bucky sat at the table, clutching his sides as he tried to stop another sob from his mouth. His chest trembled, tapping his head knock by knock on the table.
He looked back up at the letter - he was being drafted into the army.
Bucky knew what it meant, that eventually he would have to go to the frontlines in the European theater. He pushed back his chair, a loud screech to the wooden floor and walked to get a glass of water.
He took a deep breath, looking at the mirror next to the front door trying to look determined but instead his eyes were red. He stuffed the letter into his pocket, opening the door and walked to Christiane's place.
He hesitated before knocking, trying to think of words to tell his friends. He first decided on putting it off, but the letter stated he would have to go to training in March. It was now or never.
"That must be him!" Christiane turned around cheerily as she skipped to the door, opening it letting him in.
"Hi," she smiled to him.
He smiled back, still trying to hold his emotions back, "Hi" as he leaned down to kiss her gently on her cheek.
They pulled away, Christiane looking to his face, "Qu'est ce qui se passe? (What happened?)"
Bucky looked down moving past her as he went to the table to sit down.
"Buck, what's wrong?" Steve looked at him concerned, sitting opposite him. Christiane stood by, watching.
He pulled out a letter, setting it on the table. Steve gingerly took it, opening it to read. Christiane could see the stamp from the US Army on the envelope. She felt herself freeze, watching and waiting.
"Buck..." Steve looked to him.
Bucky looked up, his eyes drafting to the two of them, eyes red and puffy.
"I've been drafted."
Christiane's hand flew to her mouth, trying to muffle the sob that started coming. It felt like her heart was trying to escape her chest, as if someone had punched her in the abdomen. Hot tears spilled, she could see through the blur Bucky and Steve coming to comfort her but she backed away to her room, closing the door.
She sat at her bed crying, before kicking off her heels and changing into boots, grabbing her coat and bag, quickly dashing out the door and refused to look at either Steve or Bucky.
Christiane almost ran to the train station, getting a train to Manhattan. The only person she wanted to see right now was Anya. She opened her pocket notebook, flipping the pages for Stark's apartment, quickly wiping a tear from her eyes.
Later at Stark's New Year's party
"You have to let me in! Please!" Christiane clung to the pedastool where the big tough-looking man stood at the door of Stark's apartment.
"I'm sorry ma'am, everyone wants to see Mr Stark today," he looked at her without much of an expression.
Christiane smacked her forehead with her hand, exasperated, "I don't want to see Mr Stark! I want to see Anya Bougourd!" her voice raising.
"Ma'am I do not appreciate you raising your voice at me, you ought to know better," he replied back still expressionless.
"Anya Bougourd is my sister! How many times must I tell you that!" she argued.
"Your husband ought to give you a beating for the way you're talking to me," his voice stern.
"If you so much lay a finger on my sister, or any other man, I will end you and tear you apart with my own hands," came a cool and calm voice behind the man.
"That's my sister you connard" Christiane glared at the man.
"Come on, let me have a word with Mr. Stark on the horrific behavior of this man. I won't tolerate anyone in the company with such an attitude and to speak to a woman in such a way." she looked at the man sternly, her grey-blue eyes glacial, piercing as if looking straight into his soul.
Immediately, the man ducked his head down, his voice quiet, "I'm sorry ma'am."
"Dismissed," she replied back, watching the man frostily as he left his post by the door.
Anya then looked to her sister, eyes scanning her face, "Why are you here, Christiane? Didn't you have a dinner with the boys?"
Her eyes began to well up, her face twisting trying to keep away the tears.
"Mon dieu! Christiane, qu'est qui s'est passée? (My god! Christiane, what happened?)" Anya looked at her in shock, pulling in closely, walking her into the party as she took her through a door past the crowd into a room. From there she picked a book from the bookshelf, revealing a secret door to Stark's actual apartment. Stark sat on the sofa, watching over the lights of New York.
He looked over to the two, immediately jumping up as he saw Christiane crying.
"Christiane! What happened?" he demanded, then looking to Anya, "What happened to her?"
"I don't know!" she rolled her eyes at Stark before taking her sister to the sofa, sitting her down and giving her a cushion to hug. "Stark, go get some water."
"But I don't usually get water," he interrupted.
Anya turned to him, her voice stern, "Now!"
He quickly saluted turning on his heels, "Yes ma'am."
Anya looked back to her sister, brushing her hair out from her eyes, shrugging her coat off her and draping it over the nearby armchair.
"Poulette, what happened?"
"It's Bucky," she sobbed.
"What's wrong with Bucky? Did he..?" Anya looked at her with eyes of concern.
Howard handed the glass of water to Anya, quickly sitting on the floor beside the two sisters.
Christiane shook her head, taking a big gulp of water, "He got drafted into the army."
Anya pinched the bridge of her nose, taking in a deep breath before looking back at her sister, "Merde (Shit)"
She put a hand on Howard's shoulder, "This is because of the attack on Pearl Harbor. When does he start training?"
"In March," she replied quietly.
"Does he know you're here?" Anya asked.
Christiane shook her head, trying to stifle back another sob.
"You just ran out on him at dinner?" Howard looked at her in confusion.
She nodded quietly, looking at her sister cross the room to the telephone, dialing.
"Hello? Steve, it's Anya. Don't worry, Christiane is fine, she's with me. Let me talk to Bucky. Hello? Bucky, it's Anya. She's with me. You want to come? Okay, the address is 27 Park Avenue. Just ring up, I'll come downstairs and get you. You might be able to get the last train out from Brooklyn. See you soon." She hung up, looking back to her sister.
Christiane continued to cry, trying to keep her fear at bay.
Anya ordered Howard to hide the glasses of champagne from the table in case Christiane spiraled further and started drinking to numb her fear. She took her little sister in her arms, holding her tightly.
"I know you're scared," she whispered, brushing her hair soothingly.
"I thought we'd have more time. We escaped the war only this time it's like the universe is punishing me by sending someone I love back into war." she sobbed again.
"I know, I know," she kissed the top of her head.
"It already scared the daylights out of me when you and Anya went back to Europe," her voice quietened down.
"You have to be strong, not just for yourself but remember also Bucky. It must be extremely overwhelming for him too. For me and Peggy, it was almost natural to be in the SSR coming from the resistance, but for him, it's all new. When it comes the time for you, it might almost be natural too but there will be new things that will overwhelm you."
Christiane nodded, "I will be strong," taking a deep breath as she settled back into the cushions of the sofa.
"I just wish we had more time. I always thought it would be me going back first,"
"Spend all the time you can with him now, do you understand?"
Christiane nodded again, feeling her eyes starting to droop.
Anya kissed her again on her head, pulling a blanket over her, "It's late, sleep." before she walked to the kitchen where Howard waited.
"How is she?" he asked.
"She's scared, she's scared for him. She still gets nightmares from the invasion," she took a sip of champagne.
"I'm not ready for that Anya, if something were to happen to you" Howard quietly spoke, taking a sip from his glass.
"What are you talking about Howard?" Anya's looked at him puzzled.
Howard shook his hands, running his fingers through his hair. "About us!"
Anya set her glass down, quiet for a few moments before her voice came as a whisper, "As friends? Because Howard, you have dames looking at you all around Manhattan. I can't handle that."
"As friends, you and Peggy are truly one of the only people I'd trust my life with, Anya. I just want you to be happy."
"Me too, Howard." she smiled, hugging him before pouring more champagne.
Later
Bucky came in around midnight, at which point Anya forced Howard to bed to avoid any questions why they were in Howard Stark's house. Anya put him on another sofa opposite the one Christiane slept on. He kissed Christiane on the forehead as she was curled up.
"I'm sorry Bucky," Anya hugged him.
"I knew deep down it'd come one day, I just wish we had more time together," his voice a whisper.
Anya smiled a little, "She said the same thing," putting her hand on his shoulder, she made him look at her, "It's not goodbye, it's never goodbye." She stopped, trying to find the right words, her mind briefly thinking of her relationship, whatever it was with Loki.
"Remember this; love, can survive time, distance. It is the root of what makes us human, we all love someone or something in one way or another. Between you and my sister," she pointed to his heart, "it's in here. It will always be in here. It is a connection that holds her soul to yours and yours to hers now. If you truly love each other, then nothing can get in between you. Nothing. Your love will extend beyond time and space, I swear that to you on my parents."
Bucky nodded, he looked over to her sleeping, as still as a rock.
"I love her, each day if it's even possible I love her even more. I..." he hesitated, a small smile appearing, "I want to spend the rest of my life with her."
Anya sighed smiling, looking over to her sister then back to Bucky, "When you feel the time is right, you know where to find me." She stood up, giving him a squeeze on his shoulders and whispering goodnight as she walked away.
Bucky looked over at Christiane, taking in the way the moonlight shone on her face and hair. He felt a sense to protect her, to shield her from evil. He thought back to the events earlier on in the evening when he got drafted. His heart twisted when he saw Christiane in tears running out the apartment. He knew she was scared. But he felt a sense of duty suddenly, the need to protect her. His mind drifted to a future; he saw her carrying a baby in her arms, singing softly. Bucky came into the house, his looked at himself in a mirror, he was in uniform. A dog ran past him, paws scratching on the wooden floor as he neared to her in the living room. He looked out the windows, seeing they were in the countryside. She turned around, smiling radiantly at him it made his heart swell. He felt his eyes droop close, taking deep breaths as he fell asleep.
Christiane woke to the sunlight seeping through the curtains onto her face. She sat upright, looking around to Stark's apartment completely empty until she looked to the sofa opposite hers. Bucky slept, a little too big for the sofa that his feet dangled at the edge. She got up, shaking him softly until he started stirring. He slowly opened his eyes, trying to figure out where he was until they focused on Christiane, a small smile from his face.
"Mornin'" he whispered.
"Good morning," whispering back.
He sat upright, trying to tame back the curls at the tips of his hair.
"Let's go for a walk?"
He nodded, "Okay," as he turned himself to sit, grabbing his shoes as he helped her into her coat and they walked downstairs onto the street.
It was still early, being the 1st of January, almost everything was also closed. The sun was still rising, the air cold as it bit her cheeks. Snow crunches under their feet, birds chirping in the iced trees.
"This feels so familiar," he chuckled, "didn't we do this a year ago?"
Christiane laughed quietly, "We did do this a year ago,"
"And we talked about something very serious didn't we? And we are about to talk about something serious too." he smiled, ducking his head down.
Christiane pulled him to a bench in Central Park. Everything was white around them from the floor to the trees. They sat together closely, arms linked, hands holding each other. She rested her head on his shoulders, taking in a deep breath of the glacial air.
"I'm sorry about last night, I was scared," she whispered.
"You never have to be sorry, not to me, Christiane. I'm scared too," he whispered back, kissing the top of her head softly.
"I don't want to lose you. It's horrible back in Europe,"
"But I have this, remember?" he pulled out his wallet, taking out the thick golden coin with the protection rune. "I'll always have you protecting me," he smiled.
She could only come out with a quiet laugh, brushing the tips of his hair out of his eyes.
"I'll always be with you, anywhere you go I'll go too," she whispered.
"And I'll follow you to the ends of the world if I have to, Christiane."
He leaned in closely to her, his eyes looking from her lips to her eyes, asking for permission. She leaned into the kiss first, her hands holding his cheeks, thumbs brushing against the stubble that had formed. His hands moved to her face, slowly slipping to the back of her head as he intertwined his fingers with her hair. She sighed a little at the small tugs he was doing, as he smiled into the kiss. She used her tongue to brush lightly on his lower lip, prying his lips as they deepened together. Both becoming breathless as she bit softly down on his lower lip, pulling it with her as she pulled away. Both their lips were swollen, breathing trying to catch their breaths. Bucky looked at her, a wildness in his eyes, the bright cerulean blue of his eyes almost brewing like a storm.
"You're going to be the end of me, Christiane," he smiled, their hands touching like electric.
2 January 1939
Loki told Anya to come the night before, he held her hands tightly in his before running into the night, the moonlight casting a long shadow in the courtyard as he disappeared up the stone steps towards the palace.
Anya looked over to her sister, curled up on the sofa in their apartment. A bellboy cap in blue rested on her face, blocking out the candlelight. Maps were scattered across the floor as her sister tried to find escape routes through forests and trail paths in the mountains - with tensions rising in Europe, the Resistance forming, they had to find a way to help people out if the day came that they were invaded.
Anya looked over from the mattress she slept on, notebooks from her chemistry classes from school laid open. She took a deep breath in, thinking of the courtyard in Asgard and closing her eyes.
She opened her eyes again to the courtyard, the cool night casting an aura around the full moon. She could hear music in the distance, crowds talking and laughing. Anya looked over her shoulder, Heimdall stood in the moonlight, smiling.
"Welcome home," he chuckled.
Anya ran to him, hugging him tightly.
"It's so good to see you again."
He laughed again, "You were only here yesterday, little one."
"It feels like eternity," she pulled back, smiling up to him.
"He's waiting for you at the palace," he smiled.
Anya nodded, smiling to him, "I'll come say goodbye before leaving," before she started running towards the palace.
She ran past crowds of Asgardians in a celebration, going under the stairs and climbing up the railing by the side to go by unnoticed. She stood by the balcony, overlooking Asgard, the glimmer of the Bifrost casting a reflection to the gold of the palace.
"I didn't think you'd come," a voice came from behind her.
She turned around, facing Loki. Anya took a step towards him, closing the distance between them.
"Why do you keep saying that every time I see you again?" she whispered, looking up to his blue eyes, his hair almost part of the shadows.
"Because I'm not like them, I'm not like anyone here," he turned his head to the noise downstairs, looking over the balcony to the celebrations.
Anya rested her hand on his cheek, "That's what makes you special, Loki."
He chuckled nervously, looking down to his feet before looking back up at her, taking a deep breath.
"Why do you keep coming back, Anya?"
He held her hands in his, holding it against his chest.
Loki looked at her, her eyes the color of a storm brewing over water in the moonlight. She smiled back to him, turning her head to the side, "Why do you keep asking me to come back, Loki?"
Her hair was in waves from keeping it in a bun the whole day. He looked at the light freckles on her nose, his heart beating faster and faster as he took another step towards her.
His voice was as quiet as the wind, a look of certainty in his eyes, "Because I love you, Anya."
Anya's lips parted, trying to take in his answer.
He looked to her lips first, then focusing on her eyes. Anya rested her hand on his cheek gently, Loki doing the same before he leaned in, gently kissing her on her lips.
He backed away, looking for her reaction. Her eyes were focused on him, before she pulled him back down on her, the two of them kissing deeper. Loki couldn't hear anything, like blood rushing through his ears roaring. He couldn't tell if it was his heart beating too hard or the sound of fireworks.
Anya pulled away, the both of them out of breath. He brushed his thumb over her cheek, pulling her in closely to him and kissing her on her head.
He turned them to the fireworks, casting blue, green and red luminescentes on their skins.
Loki laughed softly, "I suppose I got my answer then,"
"You should keep asking me to come back," she whispered back, laughing lightly.