-REPOSTED-

A/N: Hi all,

I feel this is more a filler chapter, but I also see it as a bit of spring-board.

Obviously, Bucky and Grace have a long road ahead of them and I'm not going to write it day by day, therefore, quite soon I think I'll be able to write chapters that focus on significant milestones in their developing friendship.

Oh, and thank you to all of you who reviewed. It's always great to hear what others think of your writing. :)

Anyway, I hope this is okay…

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Finally, she thought to herself.

Smiling down at the figure sleeping on her couch, she perched herself on her coffee table to put on her runners. Glancing over at him briefly as she tied her laces, she tried to figure out how long he had been asleep for. 'Not long enough' was the only answer she could come up with.

Despite having almost soiled herself the night before when he ambushed her in the living room, she found that she actually didn't mind the company. Of course, it wasn't as if they had engaged in any deep and meaningful conversations; in fact, for all the talking they had done, she may as well have been by herself. It had been good though.

Sure, he wasn't a great conversationalist, but he was easy to be around. Grace liked that.

She had returned to her bed this morning after only two hours of impromptu craft-making, while he, she noted, had stayed up. On the plus side, at least he hadn't locked himself in the spare room again.

It was obvious that he had been through something – how could it not be? He was 98 year old with a 27 year old face for God's sake! But still, in the small moments when he would reveal pieces of himself, she became more and more horrified at what he had been turned into.

She wouldn't call herself an expert but she did happen to know a few things about Bucky Barnes, and the man currently staying in her apartment was nothing like him – save for the face, of course.

She wasn't sure exactly how she was going to do it yet, but one way or another she was going to bring him back to himself. Bucky Barnes had been a hero. He had saved hundreds of lives whilst risking his own. He deserved better.

Putting her thoughts aside for now, she looked towards the door.

Going for an afternoon run was something she often did on Sundays, and she was determined that today would be no exception; however, she was absolutely certain that leaving via the door was going to wake up her house guest, and who knew when he would sleep again…

Turning away from the door, she silently headed for the fire escape window. She knew that she and the window had had their differences over the years but she kept her fingers crossed that perhaps, just on this one occasion, they might be able to form a truce.

Being as quiet as possible she found that luck was on her side as the window slid up soundlessly – it still wasn't a smooth opening, but noise was the only thing she cared about right now. She was just about to start climbing through when she realised her mistake. After all, he was bound to wake up eventually.

Heading over to her kitchen counter, she scrawled a quick note on some paper before placing it on the coffee table. At least this way he would know where she'd gone if he happened to wake up before she returned.

And with that, she strode back to window, putting all of her effort into not toppling out onto the landing (like she had last time), before heading down the stairs to the street.

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He had fallen.

Or maybe he had jumped? He couldn't tell.

His heart raced as he plummeted towards the water, the icy wind cutting right through him. He tried to scream but any noise he made was lost to the sound of the air rushing past him on his descent.

He hit the water and instantly lurched awake.

His heart was pounding in his chest as he looked around, desperately trying to place his location.

Couch, window, kitchen table. Grace. He was in Grace's apartment.

Forcing himself to calm down he focused on other things, anything to separate himself from his nightmare.

That was when he noticed. He was in Grace's apartment, but as far as he could tell, there was no Grace.

He couldn't see her, and he couldn't hear her. He did, however, briefly note that the fire escape window was open.

"Grace?" he called out, his voice still raspy from sleep.

No answer.

He wouldn't say that her absence worried him as much as it unsettled him. He had felt comfortable in Grace's apartment since she'd let him in two nights ago, however he couldn't help but now wonder if it was Grace that put him at ease rather than the apartment itself.

Looking around once more (if for nothing other than some kind of explanation), he spotted the lose piece of paper lying on the coffee table – that hadn't been there before he'd fallen asleep. He was sure of it.

Picking it up, his suspicions were confirmed as he read the small note she had left for him:

Went for a run - didn't want to wake you.

I'll be back around 4.

Sweet dreams!

He chuckled slightly. Sweet dreams indeed.

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Her truce with the window was over.

That much had become abundantly clear as she attempted, for the third time now, to swing her leg up into the opening. Other people might blame her fatigue – she had pushed herself pretty hard after all, but Grace couldn't help but feel that it was some kind of revenge plot.

…Or maybe she was just going crazy.

Trying (and failing) yet again, she huffed in frustration before admitting (temporary) defeat, bending to sit down on the hard grating of the fire escape landing.

"Should I even ask?"

She started suddenly at the unexpected question, narrowing her eyes at the man now leaning out her window.

"You know, I am about one heart palpitation away from getting you a cat bell!" she shot back at him.

He ignored her jab, though she didn't miss the hint of smirk that crossed his face.

"I take it your run went well then?"

"My run is not the problem, it's the fact that my own window has a vendetta against me."

"I thought I was the one who was crazy…" he muttered under his breath.

"I heard that!"

There it was again… the tiniest hint of a smirk. It was good look on him.

"So, are you planning to stay down there all day then?" he questioned, crossing his arms over his chest… Wait, was he mocking her? What?

"I don't know…" she responded slowly. "I haven't decided yet."

"Do you maybe want a hand?"

Grace wasn't great at accepting help, meaning there was no way in hell she was going to be able to respond with a 'yes please' – the cost to her pride would be too high.

So, instead, she sighed an overly-dramatic sigh (playing up the drama-queen angle big time), before answering with, "I suppose so. If you're offering, that is?"

He didn't bother saying anything, merely extended his right hand out the window in her direction.

His hand was warm and strong as he pulled her to her feet.

Then came the interesting part.

Positioning her so that her side was to the open window, he used his grip on her hand to deftly place her arm around his neck before moving his own hand down to her waist on the opposite side.

"Ready?"

She nodded slowly, somewhat taken aback by their new proximity. She hadn't really stopped to think about it before, but when her face was only inches from his, it was hard not to realise how attractive he was. Even with the light, scruffy beard and the messy hair.

Before she could think too much more about it, he lifted her up and through the window, stepping away from her after he had gently placed her down on the floor.

"You should use the door next time."

"I… I didn't want to wake you" she stumbled slightly, still recovering from being swept off her feet – literally.

"Thanks, but no amount of sleep is worth watching you try and climb through that window again…"

Wow. Okay. He was mocking her. And this time, she couldn't resist saying something.

"Look at you… give the man a nap and he's a comedian." She replied, her tone light and teasing.

He offered her half a smile in return. She decided that it was a good start.

"So," she continued. "While I was running, I was thinking…" she trailed off slightly, moving towards her bookshelf

"Hmm?" he prompted, following her movements with his eyes as she plucked a book from the top shelf before turning back to him.

"…And I think you should read this." She finished, holding the book out to him.

"'Shaping the 21st Century'?" he read the title aloud. A questioning tone in his voice.

"Yeah. Granted I'm not really sure what you've been up to for the last 70 years, but I thought a bit of a catch-up session might be a good place to start…"

"Start?" he echoed. "Start what?"

"You don't have to read it if you don't want to…" she dodged the question. If she told him she was trying to turn him back into… well, himself, he might not take it too well. It was just a feeling she had.

He studied the book for several minutes, turning it over in his hands as he went.

"Okay." He finally answered, still sounding somewhat unsure. "I'll give it a try…"

She smiled at him. "Great." She responded. "I'll start dinner."