Sundays were the one day of the week where she let her muscles breathe. Clad in the one dress she owned, she wove her way through the people to get a good seat before the sermon could begin. The family that sat directly across from her cast shrewd glances at her frazzled appearance, but she just busied herself with reading through the announcements listed on the bulletins.

The cushion beside her sunk down as someone plopped onto it and caused the rustic bench beneath them to groan.

"What are your plans today?" Bucky demanded, letting his arm fall across her seat back without a thought.

"This," Mattie replied. She glanced up at his perfectly kempt hair and freshly ironed suit to narrow her gaze. "Don't you usually pretend not to recognize me in a dress?"

"Holy shit!" he exclaimed.

Mattie smacked him with the Bible from the seat back in front of them and he grinned reckless as all abandon, not giving a single damn to the extra judgments he drew towards her.

"I didn't realize that was you Matilde. You look lovely today. I thought I was just picking up a lucky dame. I don't believe I've ever seen your calves before or your hair loose."

"You're hysterical, James, truly."

He tugged the hem of her dull blue dress and her hands began anxiously twisting the ends of her blond waves. "Anyway. My family is have a cookout later and my mom insisted I invite you. Steve will be there so you won't be the only non-Barnes."

"Why?" she asked instantly.

The preacher made his way to the pulpit and as the hush fell, Bucky had to lower his mouth to her ear to whisper his answer. "Because no one turns down my mother."

His breath could go straight to hell instead of ghosting over her ear and down her throat settling with starch clarity beneath her wrinkled skirt. She could hear the sly grin on his lips and it made her insides boil because she was so susceptible to it. She knew how he was. She really should be immune to his manipulative ways or at least above them after knowing him nearly a year. But no, just like the sinner running back to his ways, she was prepared to give in to the temptation that was James Barnes.

"Will there be food there?" she asked softly.

"More than you could want. Turkey and cobbler and greens. Don't let Aunt Edna convince you to eat the pumpkin pie. You will get sick."

His hand reached out to squeeze hers, the warmth lingering way past socially acceptable norms and seeping into places that should really be forbidden in a church.

"Find me after. Gotta get back to my folks."

If she was expected to hear a goddamn word from the preacher's mouth after the sin that was Bucky evaporated from her side, the ministry had another thing coming. It was all she could do to shake hands with the holy man and smile when she met his gaze as she exited after an enthralling lecture on the good ways of the disciples.

When she was finally free and down the steps, she caught sight of Bucky leaned against the back a steel grey jalopy. His index finger flashed out to catch her mid step as the breeze fought against the gel that held his dark hair in place and kicked at her skirt.

"You'll be accepting my ride today," he called.

"Your house is only three blocks over. I can manage."

"Steve's isn't. Now come on or we'll be late."

From experience, she knew that no amount of debating could argue him down once his mind was set and her only excuse was just that, an excuse, so a lackluster shrug of her shoulders removed her cardigan and a click of her kitten heels had her at his passenger door. He let out a whoop, sliding in behind the already cranked engine and throwing them into gear with only one hiccup from the car.

The breeze softened before they reached unreasonable speeds and Mattie let her arm dangle from the open window as one of her bare feet propped against his dash. The sky rested above in a grey haze and the air hung thick with moisture, though Bucky swore up and down and on the tomb of some scientist she had never heard of that it would hold off until night fell.

Steve was perched on his railed fence in a floppy plaid shirt and rolled khaki pants when they pulled up and jumped in before Bucky even had time to maneuver them into reverse.

"What's he have on you?" Steve asked, leaning two arms against either of the front seats so he could better be heard.

"Just some unpaid taxes. You?"

"A few fudged identity cases."

"You two are full of shit," Bucky complained as he wove past a smoking station wagon.

"I think we could take him if we teamed up," Steve continued, ignoring his friend.

"Oh, it wouldn't even be a challenge. Have you seen his recovery time? He might as well be done after one blow."

"One blow is it?" Steve waved an eyebrow at her.

With a cross of her arms, she turned her attention back to the road ahead. "I take it back. I'm not friends with either of you today."

Childish laughter filled the car and Bucky pulled them into the only parking spot left outside the front of his house.

"It's just like boxing," Bucky coached, guiding them through the motions.

She nodded, eyes fixed fast on his feet to learn the required steps. A tap to her chin snagged her attention and the flash of his waiting gaze permanently derailed her train of thought. She swayed in his grasp, only her dutiful training keeping her upright under his assault. His mouth pursed with curiosity, with entirely too much knowledge for his own good.

"That dress does suit you. I can see why you favor it," he said.

"Do you know how to not flirt?" she asked.

"Do you want me to stop?" he challenged.

"I want you to let me read you as easily as you do me."

"Ask whatever you want, darling, I'm open cover to cover."

"Is the constant charming a shield or is that really you?"

"All me. I aim to please. You can stick around and get to know me better if you would like," he offered.

"I don't know if you really mean that, or anything. You act the same way no matter who you are with."

"It's called being yourself. You should try it instead of locking away everything you feel."

Her lips twisted up as the first raindrop rolled down her arm and dripped onto his well-ironed white shirt. "Careful James, we don't have a ring here to settle this."

His chuckle was felt clear to her toes because he pulled her against his chest in a tight hug. Rain peppered over her skin now to add flavor to an already seasoned event. They followed the rest of the crowd inside, landing on two bar stool in the kitchen passing the only towel they could find between themselves to held chase away some of the chill.

His mother bustled in with hand-knitted blankets as her ammo and unquestionable commands ready.

"Most everyone is heading home before the real storm breaks. This is not me kicking you out Matilde, dear. You may stay as long as you want. Steven is asleep on the couch, so you can have James' old one if you wish."

"That is beyond kind of you," Mattie said.

"Of course dear," the older woman wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and rubbed her arms to create the warmest action in Mattie's life. "Back when Steven had no home, he hated asking for help too. Being an orphan is hard, much harder in Brooklyn if you ask me."

Mattie stood abruptly, muscles tight and not from the chill. "I have a place," she stated.

"Not from what James tells me."

"Mattie…" he called as she spun on her heel, charging past generations of Barnes bundled in ponchos and rain gear out into the steadily worsening weather. Her name was a shout the second time he said it.

She quickened her pace, heels sinking into the mud and making each step a burden. A wet flop made her head swivel back in time to see Bucky's umbrella blow away. His fine clothes now clung to him in unwarranted ways that the mud staining them could not even counteract.

When he made no move to stand on his own, she groaned and walked back far enough to offer out her hand.

"We weren't trying to trick you into coming here."

"Please, you can't tell Mr. Caldwell. He'll kick me out and fire me all in one go."

"We are just trying to help," he said.

"So am I. Take the hand."

He did and held fast even after he was on his feet. The rain claimed both of them now, all stringy hair and shivering bones.

"Why are you hiding this?"

"It's hard enough being a woman alone in this city without having the pity of being homeless thrown in on top of everything."

"Just come back inside. You don't have to do everything on your own. It's ok that you are broke and don't have a home or a family, but I can help so just let me please."

"Why? What do you get out of it?"

"A personal trainer obviously."