"Okay, what are our codes?" Bellamy asked Bucky as they walked briskly side by side down the dim street. The coffee shop was around the corner and she was checking all their bases one last time. Both of them were dressed similarly, wearing baseball hats and layers of neutral colored clothing. Bucky had his right hand shoved into his pocket ever since they left her apartment. "If you want me to change the conversation, you'll say…?"

"What's the time?" He answered, not lifting his head up.

"Right, good. And if you need to leave…?" He sighed, frowning at the pavement.

"I think I'm running late."

"Good, good. You're going to be fine. Hey," Her hand gently touched his arm and slowed their pace when she noticed he was still frowning. "What's wrong?"

"What if I just keep asking for the time the whole time?" He worried glumly after a moment of pausing, sighing.

"I'll try my best to keep the conversation in the right direction, okay? Don't worry. Do you trust me?" She waited until he nodded. "And I trust you. Alright? We'll be fine." They were outside the café and she opened the door for him, but he gestured for her to go first. Inside, Bellamy scanned the small brick room with the warm glow. It was an open area of wooden tables and she wasn't at all surprised to see two familiar faces draping their jackets over the chairs of the farthest table back next to the window. They had just arrived too. Bellamy pointed the duo out to Bucky, before she started over. She noticed Bucky hanging back just as Mrs. McGrath noticed her, her face brightening dramatically with delighted astonishment.

"Bellamy!" She cried, clapping her hand over her mouth. "Oh, hello my beautiful girl, how have you been?" Bellamy met her halfway, and allowed the little woman to wrap her arms around her frame.

"I've been well, Mrs. McGrath." Bellamy smiled pleasantly as she received a kiss on the cheek. "Hello, Mr. McGrath, how are things?" The older man gave her a stoic thin-lipped smile as he now embraced her with a firm hug.

"Wonderful, now."

"We were starting to get a little worried, truthfully!" Mrs. McGrath laughed. "Began fearing the worst, I was figuring you moved, or some godawful thing had happened, I—" Her rambling stopped the moment she caught sight of Bucky behind Bellamy, and she looked over her shoulder at him, who suddenly had everyone's attention, and was painfully aware of it. He had been watching quietly, but now studied his shoes, his arms behind his back. "Oh…is this…?" Bellamy stretched her arm out towards Bucky in a way to beckon him closer.

"Mr. McGrath, Mrs. McGrath, this is my friend Bennie Taylor." It was a fictitious name and story to protect his real identity. Bellamy may not have lied about her first name to the McGrath's, but that was about all they knew in terms of her identity. Bucky dragged his feet as he walked closer, resembling a nervous dog. "We met not too long ago; he used to be a marine."

"That makes sense," Mr. McGrath nodded, eyeing Bucky with clear esteem. Even with his shoulders a bit slouched, trying to make himself smaller and not appear to be a threat, Bucky still possessed a very powerful looking frame.

"We live in the same building and found out we shared a mutual friend—it really is a small world." With the mini-biography they'd made up, she was sure it would answer any question they might have, but also had one distracting point she knew Mr. McGrath would bring up at some point.

"Well, how do you do?" Mrs. McGrath smiled warmly, sticking out her hand, which Bucky took after a second with the lightest of touches.

"I'm good, thanks. It's nice to meet you both." He took Mr. McGrath's hand next, and she noticed Bucky's eyes staring at the hat on his head that was labeled Veteran. He cleared his throat, and shifted his gaze to Bellamy in a glance. "Bellamy's told me a lot about you two." It made them happy—Mrs. McGrath beaming and Mr. McGrath letting out a small deep laugh.

"Come, come! Sit with us; a friend of Bellamy's is a friend of ours." Mrs. McGrath invited excitedly, laying her hand on Bucky's shoulder. "My, such a strong young man." Bellamy didn't miss the tone of voice Mrs. McGrath had used when she said "friend", along with the more obvious look she sent, and she tried to catch Bucky's eyes to share a subtle apologetic glance, but he didn't notice, or seem to be bothered. "So what do you do now?" Mrs. McGrath asked Bucky as they were all sitting. Bellamy quickly interjected.

"Well actually, we're both looking for work right now; I was laid off, unfortunately." Bellamy had never told them the extent of what she actually did. As far as the couple knew, she worked in some office building downtown.

"Oh no," Mr. McGrath said as his wife groaned. "That's not good news."

"The bright side, however, if there is one, is all the free time you have now." Mrs. McGrath chirped, smiling at the two of them side by side. Bucky shifted in his seat next to her, but Bellamy smiled casually.

"Ah. Yes. It's well needed R&R."

"So, Bennie," Mr. McGrath leaned forward on the table, turning his serious gaze to Bucky. "What made you decide to join the marines?" Everyone turned to him expectantly, and Bellamy watched him swallow and begin to hesitate. She knew she couldn't answer for him, so she had to figure out a different way to turn the conversation around. Lightly, she touched his shoulder, smiling.

"You know, I bet Mr. McGrath is just, tickled, to meet you; he comes from a military family. He even served and fought in Vietnam." It worked, she knew it had once Mr. McGrath began nodding.

"I joined willingly, but most of the men I knew were forced to. Most of us were young. Didn't really know what we were doing. I'm one of the lucky ones though. I lost a lot of friends, a lot of good men. Some of my friends are still here, but I still lost them, you know? But I don't regret it, I bet you don't either. I know despite all the horror I've seen, done, there's still good. I try to be the good." Bellamy relaxed; she'd heard it all before and knew it was a topic Mr. McGrath could talk incessantly over, though she never minded. Next, she decided she was going to request one of his light-hearted stories, but Bucky's voice startled her, and stopped that plan.

"It was never a question to me." Once again, Bucky was staring at the veteran hat, before he focused on Mr. McGrath himself. "I was capable and young and my country needed me, I didn't need another reason." Mrs. McGrath just nodded, but it was Mr. McGrath who smiled solemnly in an understanding she wasn't capable of holding, and tipped his hat ever so slightly towards Bucky. He returned the gesture after he got over his momentary surprise, nodding back. Though neither the McGrath's had a reason to be surprised by his spoken words, she did. He had a way out, he didn't need to speak she'd told him that. But he wanted to, and it made all the difference and she couldn't stop staring at him. He felt her gaze and glanced her way.

The look he gave her made their surroundings completely drop away. There was no soft acoustic music playing, no people around, just him sitting beside her and the look on his face. A look that was no longer the tortured smudged soul being tormented, but one who just wanted so very desperately to be good. An awkward half-smile asking if he was doing well enough yet, a look that pleaded for patience, because he was on his way, but lost. Someone who was just trying to do what was right. Her own presence was secondary, up until she felt herself smiling back at him.

"Alright, enough with the heavy." Mrs. McGrath spoke up with a smile and glance at her husband. "Who wants coffee?"

"Yes of course, here, Bennie and I can get all of ours." Bucky followed her lead and stood and they left the table, though she didn't miss the second knowing look Mrs. McGrath sent. As soon as they were together and away, Bellamy began trying to find the right words to express how proud she was.

"They, uh…" She didn't get the chance to as Bucky spoke. "They think we're a couple, don't they." He asked, straight-faced and staring straight ahead.

"Naturally." She answered honestly. "I live alone, remember, and you're the first man I've ever even suggested I have regular contact with. I can tell them we're not if that would make you more comfortable?"

"They probably wouldn't believe you." He continued staring straight ahead at the cash register and menu board hung on the wall behind the smiling barista.

"So…what would you like?" Bellamy prompted as they approached. "What sounds good?"

"I…" His eyes were scanning all the unfamiliar names on the menu, a whole wall's worth of unfamiliar. Something seemed to make him disgruntled, as he turned his back to the board and leaned against the counter. "Pick for me."

"I'm just trying to avoid another apple incident." His disgruntled face turned to one of mild amusement and he looked to her, instead of the menu.

"What do you get?"

"I'm, uh, a bit boring…I always get plain black coffee." She admitted, but went further, for some reason. "I used to hate it, but I wanted to look professional when I was younger. I don't mind the taste anymore." He chuckled, but lifted his eyes.

"What if we both try something new?" She blinked at the suggestion, before she realized it was fair. And not a bad idea; whenever she went to any place she always played it safe. Maybe it was time to broaden her life in every aspect.

"Okay…how about…" She read the items, looking for something a bit out there, but nothing too extreme. "Two white chocolate lattes?"

"Sure." He immediately agreed. Bellamy ordered Mrs. McGrath's chai latte, as well as Mr. McGrath's sweetened Americano.

Back at the table, Bellamy watched Bucky take his first drink. He noticed, and nodded to her.

"Not bad."

"I'm glad you like it." She told him a bit teasingly. "It's a little sweet to me."

"Well…you're not making a weird face like you do when you drink black coffee at home." Bucky noted, staring down at his cup, before he looked up and sent her something of a playful smile. There, it really was; he was teasing her. She looked back down at her cup, chuckling, but realizing he might have had a point and shook her head in disbelief—had she even lied to herself about liking bitter black coffee?

"So, Bellamy," Mrs. McGrath pulled her from her thoughts and she straightened up at being addressed. "I know you must have been awfully busy lately, but…I know it's been some time since you've been volunteering with the children…" A wave of guilt attacked her stomach.

"Yes…time has definitely gotten away from me." It was hard to keep her eyes trained on the woman. The McGrath's never had children of their own, but together, they had fostered around 12 children. Sometimes, they didn't even know their fates. Mrs. McGrath had a belief she would be joined with them all together again, one day. "But, now my schedule is very open."

"Oh, good." Mrs. McGrath smiled wider. "Perhaps you could even take Bennie with you." Bellamy smiled politely, about to agree lightly and move on, but Bucky spoke, again, before she did.

"Yeah, I would like to." Bellamy glanced at him, stunned completely this time. He only gave her that same look again, and there at the coffee shop, she realized she'd forgotten he was capable of making his own choice to voice his thoughts, that it was her who had reminded him of it…and it was all there, on his face. It was a look she would never been able to forget in her life.

Every time Bellamy glanced at Bucky's face, there was a different color there. The sun lowered more and more, and its palette found its home on his skin—intense shades of orange deepening into red, shifting towards violets and indigos.

The sound of the breeze paused every now and then, either on its own or muted from the sound of her breaking the skin of a grape with her teeth. Between them, there was a bowl of fresh fruit. They were sitting on the rooftop of her apartment again, watching the sun go down over New York. Bucky only took a piece of fruit every so often, the smallest ones, and only after she'd taken a few.

"Did you mean it?" It was next to impossible to keep the question from popping out, it'd been on her mind all day since they'd left the café. Bucky had been reaching into the bowl, but at her question his motions stopped, and his eyes glanced towards her. Wordlessly, he continued on with his search after a moment before he finally frowned as if he couldn't find the right piece.

"I'm nervous." He picked up a strawberry. "Around kids."

"But you would want to." She guessed as he chewed. Carefully, she repositioned herself to face him entirely. "I know you're in there. The person you want to be. Bucky, you did so well today, back with the McGrath's." Bucky raised his eyes.

"Thanks…but," he sighed. "It's not that easy. I wish it were. I'm not just some dog that can be trained or a teddy bear that needs to be stuffed and stitched again. If I snap, I could kill an innocent child. I could've killed Mr. and Mrs. McGrath. You." He took a small breath. "As much as I liked talking with them…it was terrifying."

"It was a new experience. We both had a new experience, and I know trying new coffee is much different than…testing yourself but. It will get easier. I trust you, Bucky—I would never let you around these people that mean something to me if I didn't. Maybe Fury thought people were expendable but…I never did." In her head was that image of him, staring back at her with such a powerful look of wanting to be better. "I know you can do this." He stared at her long enough until he got whatever he seemingly needed, and finally, nodded.

"I trust you too, you know. I'm not trusting myself, I'm trusting your trust in me."

"So you will come with me to volunteer?" She asked, realizing how hopeful she sounded.

"Yes. I'll come."

That visit was scheduled for a later date, on a fun day where the two of them would have the chance to paint on paper plates with all the children and make macaroni arts and crafts. For the time being, they passed the hours in the day and night in several ways. Sometimes, she would use her laptop and catch Bucky up to speed on certain things, usually pop culture—he knew major things, making him an easier case than Steve, although, she wasn't entirely well versed with celebrity drama either. It didn't interest either of them.

"Is this what you listen to?" He asked, looking through her Spotify song library.

"Yeah—no, wait!" She tried to catch him before he could click on a song that made his eyebrows raise and a frown at the same time. It was "Nasty" by Janet Jackson.

Gimme a beat!

Bellamy felt her face blatantly blushing as the music played.

Sittin' in the movie show, thinkin' nasty thoughts

Better be a gentleman or you turn me off

Bucky glanced at her and she had to close her mouth and stop her futile stuttering attempts.

"Okay, there's a thing called a guilty pleasure, and this is definitely one of mine…"

"Just one of them, huh?" He mused and she grimaced. As it continued playing, Bucky let out a chuckle.

"I never would've guessed you would like something like…this." She sighed, trying to wash away her embarrassment but decided if it made him smile—and it did—it was worth it.

"Alright, let's just stop this. Here, I bet you would like this," Bellamy searched through until she found "Here Comes the Sun" by the Beatles and clicked on it. It played for a good amount of time and she kept glancing at his face, trying to gauge his reaction. Most people gave some sort of dead giveaway, but Bucky remained expressionless. "I can stop playing it if you don't—" Her hand moved to try and pause it, but he stopped her with his own. Briefly, their hands stayed in contact.

"No, don't." He tried to smile. "I do like it."

"The Beatles are very popular, they were popular in the 60's. My mother liked them." Bucky nodded. She wasn't sure if he already knew about them or not.

"Do you mind if I listen to the rest of your songs?" It was an unusual question, but somehow…it was almost cute. He tried to smile again, and that was cute too; it was hard for him to form a natural looking friendly smile, but he was trying and the attempt was pure. "I'm curious."

"Of course you can. I have earbuds too, if you want. You connect it to the laptop and then put them in your ears. It lets you listen to it privately." This time the smile was more naturally, something like amusement, she realized.

"I know. Thank you. That'd be swell." Bellamy smiled; it was easier for her.

Though he was limited to her library and not a much bigger one, he found artists he liked. Bruce Springsteen, Bob Dylan, The Eagles, and even one Fleetwood Mac song. As time went on, he started to get into more grunge-styled artists; Nirvana and Pearl Jam.

"I would show you some movies too, but…" she told him one day, and they both looked at the still broken TV.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I don't think I can fix that."

"No, no, you don't need to get electrocuted today." She replied quickly, making him snort. Her laptop resting on the side table by the armchair caught her eye. "Actually, maybe we can."

So they would sit on opposite ends of the loveseat and watch movies on the small screen of her laptop. It was usually a somewhat draining experience; she had to come up with her own rating system in order to avoid anything that could potentially cause him any sort of discomfort and then remain on edge the rest of the time, coolly watching his body language.

The most successful had been Rocky. Bellamy noticed a certain light in his eyes as they watched together.

"I used to box," he told her as if he couldn't hold it in anymore halfway through the movie. Or maybe, he'd just realized it, the memory on the tip of his tongue and now coming to fruition. "And I was pretty good."

"Oh, were you." She asked, keeping her tone light and good-natured. He turned to her, a half-smile on his face that she realized was a smirk.

"I was a three-time Welterweight champ." Her eyes must have betrayed her surprise, because he chuckled and added, "YMCA."

"Still. That's pretty cool."

"You know, back when we first found out we were going to war, Steve was really gung-ho." As he began to talk in that wistful tone, his words slow and thoughtful, she paused the movie. "I knew he didn't really have a shot, but I tried to give him one. I trained him to box." Bellamy grinned.

"What a handful." She laughed, with a small smile. The more she learned about Steve from Bucky, the more she was beginning to like him.

"Knucklehead." He muttered, shaking his head. Bellamy bit her lip, considering bringing up the idea of giving Steve a call, but instead just played the movie again.

Finally, it dawned on her, the best things to watch. Lighthearted and airy, full of warm moments—Disney.

"I didn't think you would like this," he quipped as they watched Snow White one night with hot chocolate. Bellamy raised an eyebrow.

"I may be boring, but I like classics."

"You're not boring." He murmured back after a moment, bringing her attention back to him and noticing from the side the way his face looked. Content.

To keep other thoughts from her mind, thoughts of work or anything else, she would refocus to think of ways she could help Bucky. Sure, it was completely life-changing, what she was going through, but only if she focused on it. If she thought about it. It was easier to turn the situation into a mission, and her mission was not only to get Bucky to smile, but to smile genuinely. Without a thought, just as easy as breathing.

The calendar was on her side, and gave her an excellent starting point. It was a Tuesday, and she and Bucky had picked up going to Susanna's Café regularly. The news on the Winter Soldier was finally beginning to cool down, new beliefs circling that he had likely fled to a different country.

Secretly, she believed Bucky couldn't keep himself away from Mr. McGrath. They talked endlessly, and he'd even told Bucky to call him by his first name, John. Of course, Mrs. McGrath adored him too, if only for the reason he'd seemed to be the catalyst that caused Bellamy to meet with them again. But it was more than that too; she'd asked to be called Flora.

When it was just about time to head out and over, she entered the living room and found Bucky sitting on the love-seat patiently before standing at the sight of her.

"Ready?"

"In a moment." She told him, approaching him with her hands behind her back. He noticed immediately, she noted, watching his flickering questioning eyes. "Do you know what day it is?"

"Tuesday?" He answered, blinking.

"Yes," she told him with a chuckle. "But, it's not just any Tuesday. It's a special one. March 10th." Slowly, realization crept into his eyes, but she was the one who had to say it. "It's your birthday." Pulling her hands from behind her back, she revealed a book she'd pulled carefully from her collection. "Happy Birthday, Bucky." He looked from the book to her eyes and back to the book, everything from surprise to bewilderment in his own

"You're giving me a book?" He asked, having no choice but to accept her gift as she pressed it gently into his hands.

"Well, I thought you'd enjoy this one. Passes the time, if anything. It's one of mine so…"

"I'll be careful." He finished, but frowned. "…You like to read, right?"

"Yes." She confirmed, but also questioned. He nodded.

"That's what I thought. My mind gets jumbled a lot nowadays, and sometimes I forget memories." It was concerning and sad, what he was telling her, but she wanted to keep it light, the day. She swallowed and pressed a small smile on her face.

"I've read every book here. You can read as many as you want, or, as many as you can finish." The corners of his mouth were at least upturned.

"Thank you." He took a closer look at the book and carefully flipped the pages. "What's it about?"

"Read it and find out." She smiled nonchalantly at the copy of Charlotte's Web in his hands. "But, to give you a hint, it's about the cycle of life, and the meaning of a real, true friend."