August 1942
"Calm down, Buck, everything looks wonderful!" Steve sat on a chair, watching Bucky pace back and forth on the rooftop of Christiane and Anya's apartment.
"Oh God, I really hope I read the weather forecast right" he ran his hand through his hair, looking up to the clouds in the distance.
"For the seventh time, it won't rain! You've got clear skies for tonight!"
"But is it too much?" he looked to Steve for a moment before pacing again, waving his arms in the air, "The flowers, candles?"
"Hmm?" Anya turned around from the picnic mat laid on the floor as she adjusted another pillow on the brick wall.
Bucky stopped in front of her, a look of confusion and vain on his face, "Do you think it's too much? Too less?"
Anya stood up, putting her hands on his shoulders, "Bucky, calm down. Christiane will love it," she looked around the transformed rooftop, the last light from the sunset casting warm buttery golden glow to everything.
"But the flowers," he looked around in awe to hydrangeas in white, pink and purple, "How'd you manage all of this before I got here?"
Anya smiled, reminding herself to thank Stark for the favor, "Just a friend from work has some connections with a florist."
"Should I get the pizza from Rossi's now?" Steve looked at his watch nearing eight in the evening.
"She should be coming back from work anytime soon, let's go Steve," she took him by the arm before walking down the stairs.
Bucky paced again, trying to think and practice the words he recited probably millions of times in his head. He lit the candles, looking up to the twilight for signs of any clouds as the first stars started coming out.
"Bucky?" Christiane walked up the steps to find the tiny rooftop, colors of white, pink and purple lined the walls of the rooftop like bushes. A picnic blanket laid out on the floor with cushions backed up against one wall, candles flickering.
"What's all this? Anya and Steve told me to come up here," she looked at him in a look between confusion and admiration.
"I thought we could do something special tonight," he took her hand, pulling her into a kiss. "What do you think? Is it too much?"
"Bucky," she took in the surroundings, trying to comprehend how a tiny rooftop in Brooklyn could be transformed into such beauty, "It's perfect."
He let out a sigh, a smile appearing before he guided her to the blanket, looking up to the stars, he put an arm around her bringing her in tightly.
"What's that one?" he pointed up.
"That's Sirius, the brightest star in the northern hemisphere. It's part of Canis Major, the Dog Star," she tried to trace the outlines of a dog.
"Dinner's here!" Anya's voice came from the stairs, bringing up a box of pizza.
"Anya?" she looked to her sister in confusion, sitting upright.
She passed the box to Bucky, waving to her sister, "I'm not here to stay, just delivering the food. Steve and I were going to go watch Bambi."
Steve waved from the stairs, "We'll be back later!" before Anya took by the arm pulling him down the stairs.
"Here," Bucky handed her a plate of the hot cheesy dish with pepperoni on it.
"This smells delicious!" Christiane took in the smell of melted cheese, something that reminded her of the winter's spent in the alps with her family over cheese fondue.
They took bites, piece after piece while Bucky asked more questions about the stars, planets and their names. By the time they finished, the night sky turned to an eternal black. They continued to eat strawberries and whipping cream Anya had prepared, washing away the cheesiness to sweetness.
"What about that one? They all look like diamonds," Bucky pointed to a bright dot in the sky to her right.
"That's Mars, its…" she turned back to Bucky only to find on one knee beside her, holding out a blue velvet box with a small diamond and sapphire ring to her.
"What about this one?", he whispered, eyes on her.
"Bucky,…it's…" she breathed, smiling to the beautiful setting of the ring.
He took a deep breath in, trying to control his anxiousness, "Christiane, words cannot describe how much I love you. With all my heart and soul and every breathing moment if I can. You are the sunshine in my life, my angel, my everything. You make me a better man, and brought me out of the darkness. I swear, with my life that I will protect you, honor you and be by your side always."
He took another deep breath in, preparing himself, "Timing is never right, and it could be years before we could get married but I want to make this official right now. You are my life, and I cannot imagine my life without you. Christiane, will you marry me?"
Christiane's mind raced, her heart leaping like it was sprinting up Mount Everest. She moved closer to him, nodding as she whispered "Yes," to him before he slipped the ring on her finger, kissing him with everything she could in that moment.
It seemed like eternity but no time at all until they pulled away from each other, breathless.
Christiane felt a wet drop on her arm, looking to the splash mark. Drop by drop rain started falling quickly and heavily. Bucky took her by her hand, making a run to the stairs as they were drenched head to toe.
They continued running down the stairs till they arrived to the apartment door, Christiane fumbling for the keys in her wet hands to open the door. Bucky leaned against the door frame watching her.
"Could you get used to it?" he asked her, eyes full of adoration and a toothy grin.
"To what?" she turned the key around.
"Being stuck with me for the rest of your life?" he smiled cheekily to her as she turned to him squealing as he tried to tickle her, the door opening under their weight as they stumbled into the living room.
There sitting at the table was Anya and Steve playing cards. Anya had a smirk on her face, the kind she knew what was going on but preferred to not say it, whereas Steve's face turned to white.
"Bugger," he grabbed the newspaper on the table flipping a page, "It's not Thursday."
25 December 1942
"Do you have to leave tomorrow?" Christiane asked, walking arm in arm with him in the park, bundled up tightly from the snow.
"I wish I could stay longer with you, doll." he squeezed her hand, smiling to himself when he felt the ring on her left hand through her gloves.
They sat at a bench silence, watching a snowball fight ensue between a group of children, their parents sitting on the other side.
"How about a winter wedding?" Bucky's voice broke the silence, contrasted against the laughter from the children and the distant patter of wet tires on the roads.
"White on white?" she chuckled to herself.
"Blue and white accents, can you imagine it?" he laughed.
"A wedding in New York?" she looked at him, smiling at the way he closed his eyes to envision.
"Anywhere you want, doll," opening his eyes to her.
"A small wedding, just our loved ones with us."
"Big, small, I don't care as long as I'm getting to marry you," he beamed a toothy grin.
January 1943
"Harder Bougourd!" an agent shouted from the sidelines watching her spar. Peggy stood beside watching her. Anya stood by the doorway, watching her sister fight.
Training consisted of using whatever they could find scattered on the floor to use as a weapon against their opponent. So far, her opponent, a gruff looking man, just a little taller than Christiane had a knife while Christiane held a long metal bar.
She flipped it in her hands, holding it out as a first defense.
She took the first step, hitting him on his arms to weaken his offense.
"I said harder, Bougourd!" the agent shouted again.
Christiane ducked her opponent's swing of a knife over her head, swinging her leg and the bar to knock him off his feet as she pushed her weight against the bar to flip up, her stance now on the offense as she swung around hitting him on all his sides with the bar.
Her opponent stumbled back, trying to recover his stance only to take another hit each time until he stumbled to the floor, scrambling back until he hit a wall, hands up in defeat.
"Good, Bougourd, you're dismissed. Martins, a word with me." the agent satisfied turned around with the opponent, leaving Peggy and Anya with Christiane.
Peggy handed her a towel as she patted it to her face.
"So far, you've managed to knock down the tallest men in the SSR, yet you still won't take up a gun."
She took up a cup of water on a nearby table, drinking the whole thing down.
"It's not practical, I don't want to kill my opponent, just injure them."
"You're going to need it when you go out in the field, Christiane," Peggy looked to her, shaking her head. The Bougourd stubbornness still surprised her always.
"Peggy's right, you can't just rely on hand to hand combat," she took up her sister's arms, pulling up the sleeves to reveal dark purple bruises on her forearms, "Look at this."
Christiane pulled away, pulling the sleeves back down, "I'm fine, it doesn't hurt."
"This is only training, you know how it's like out in the field." Peggy breathed out, taking a sip of tea.
"At least carry a knife with you when you're out there, like back in Paris, please?" her sister looked to her pleading, gingerly holding her arms in her hands again.
"Fine," Christiane nodded, pulling Anya and Peggy in closely, "I will."
"Another thing," Anya pulled away, pulling out an envelope from her jacket, "This came this morning for you."
"The fiancé?" Peggy mused, a glint of amusement in her eyes.
"Shh! Not so loud! You know how they feel about relationships at work!" Anya giggled, swatting a hand at Peggy.
Christiane smiled at the two swatting at each other as she opened the envelope.
My dearest Christiane,
I hope you are well, and know that I miss you terribly.
Unfortunately I need to tell you news that I won't be coming home next month. They'll let me go home in March. They want me to train for another month to be a sergeant and a marksman.
I wish I could be home with you, that this war wasn't happening. I wish I could hold you in my arms tightly.
I'll try to call soon if they let us have our calling hours back (some punk decided to play a joke on the drill-sergeant. Our whole company's gotten our calling hours suspended for now...)
Give my love to Anya and Steve.
I love you with all my heart,
Your Bucky
Christiane looked up from the letter, her face expressionless as she looked to Peggy and Anya.
"What's wrong?" Peggy and Anya stepped forwards to her, full of concern.
"They want him for another month at the base to train as a marksman. They're going to make him a sergeant." she flipped the letter over, before tucking it back in the envelope.
Peggy pulled back, her voice quiet as she took a breath in, letting it out, "They're going to send him out in March with the SS Dorchester."
Anya shook her head, her eyes closed, "Non, non."
"Would men in training know when they'd be shipped out so soon?" Christiane looked to the both of them.
"He'd know in a few weeks," Anya breathed out.
Christiane looked back to the envelope, feeling Peggy and Anya close to her. She closed her eyes, trying to keep the tears away.
She whispered to herself, only audible to Peggy and Anya, "I just wish we had more time."