That night, Jane drank a beer for the first time since college. The one time she agreed to play a drinking game with the guys from Intro to Astrophysics, she had her head in the toilet all night and may have asked a cute bartender to marry her. Her best friend at the time had a sick sense of humor and refused to tell her if that part was real or just a hallucination. She was left to always wonder, and never touch a drop of alcohol again for the rest of her life.

Until now.

Jane Foster sat alone at a high top table in a tiny London pub, sipping on what had to be the worst beer ever created by man (not that she had a lot to go by), looking anywhere and everywhere but at the two men at the bar. She looked at the ceiling, at the floor, at the spider web of cracks in the window, at the splintered edges of her table, at the tiny flakes of indeterminable origin floating in her drink.

Inevitably, she found herself staring at Bucky.

He was back in his old uniform. It hung off his shoulders like a towel. She was pretty sure he didn't count as a welterweight anymore; more like a lightweight. His face was still beautiful, his eyes expressive and the curve of his lips making Jane unconsciously lick her own. When Peggy arrived, dressed appropriately in fiery red, curve-hugging attire, all eyes were drawn to her, including Buckys. Though he backed off once it was clear Peggy only had eyes for Steve, Jane couldn't help the sharp stab in her chest as he admired her shapely form.

Peggy glanced at Jane before departing, smiling enigmatically. She mouthed something, but Jane couldn't make it out. Then Bucky slid into the seat across from her and she no longer cared.

"Used to be me the girls flocked to," he said with only a hint of bitterness. "Looks like I've been upstaged."

"For what it's worth," Jane said, speaking carefully as she never remembered her accent around him, "I think between the two of you, you'll always be the handsome one."

Bucky grinned. "Coming from you, that means the world."

'He is way too charming,' said the part of Jane who never got over her Jane Austen phase from high school.

'I'm destroying the space-time continuum over a hot guy,' said the part of Jane that was too smart to let her have fun.

"Now if you don't mind, I gotta know," he said, "what's a girl like you doing in a hellhole like this? When you said you were working, I figured you meant the something like the phone company. Not this."

Jane chuckled. "Yeah, you probably wouldn't expect to see a woman on the war front." 'Yet.'

"Let me guess: father was a military man? Raised you here and there?"

"Not exactly," Jane said. "My grandfather fought in World- in the Great War. He was something of a family hero. My father never had any interest in joining the military, so as the only child of the only son, I felt obligated to carry on his legacy."

That was good. Over eighty percent lies and bullshit, but still good.

Bucky pursed his lips. "Not gonna lie, your family sounds a lot like my family."

"You're the grandchild of a war hero, too?"

"Close. My pops was an airman. Nearly got himself blown up six times before he finally got an honorable discharge."

"Six times?"

"That's how he tells it," Bucky shrugged. "When he got home, he married his best girl and had me and my sisters. Taught me to always look out for them since I was the oldest, and the only boy."

"Sounds like a lot to put on a kid."

"Nah, I could handle it." He lounged back, forgetting the seats had no backs and nearly toppling over. To his credit, he recovered nicely, faking a yawn and grabbing the table to steady himself. "It always came naturally to me, protecting people. Want to know how I first met that dumbass over there?"

He waved at Steve, who now sat at a table with a group of men she understood to be his new team.

"Do tell," Jane said.

"Okay, picture this: I'm seven years old, new school year's just started. There's this random little kid in my class who I'm thinking has to be a lost kindergartener. He's so tiny, you could use him like a football. Then during lunch, a group of fourth graders go and do just that."

Jane winced. She'd managed to avoid school bullies by keeping her head down and ignoring their comments about her bookishness. Plenty of her friends had been targeted, though. She knew what kind of horrors kids were capable of. "So what did you do?"

Bucky folded his arms. "I was gonna walk away, let the chips fall where they may, but I was in a generous mood, so I introduced those punks to some friends of mine." He balled his fists. "Later on, I found out this stupid kid provoked them because they were making fun of some girl and he wanted to defend her honor. Like he thinks he's a knight in shining armor. Unbelievable."

He shook his head. This clearly would not be the last time Steve Rogers threw himself into harm's way for justice. Jane wondered if Bucky had heard about the dummy grenade incident yet and if she'd be betraying Steve's trust by breaking the news to him.

"You're saying at the age of seven, you fought a bunch of nine-year-olds and won?"

Bucky smirked, unsubtly flexing his arms. "You think I'm making it up to impress you?"

A guy once told Jane he invented cough syrup to try and get her to sleep with him. Presumably, because he'd just ingested enough cough syrup to make that sound good in his head.

"Maybe," she said airily.

Bucky held out only a second longer. "Okay, you're right. I wasn't actually beating up nine-year-olds when I was seven. They were twelve."

Jane dissolved into giggles as Bucky smirked. If his goal was to take her breath away, then he'd succeeded. "If- If I ever get in a fight with a twelve-year-old, I'll give you a call."

"Anything you need, doll. Just say the word."

A waitress brought them fresh drinks, even though Jane had yet to finish her first one. The effects of the alcohol were already hitting her, keeping her from turning tail and getting the hell away from her handsome relic of the past. Either that or his eyes were just that hypnotic. And damn his cheekbones, too. How could anyone not from Asgard look that much like a Greek statue?

"Hope you're thirsty," Bucky said, downing his drink with barely a shudder. "I've got a running tab going."

"That's very generous of you," Jane said.

"Eh, I'm nice like that. I'm just enough of a dick to put it in Steve's name, though."

Jane snorted, nearly dropping her glass. "You are terrible, Sargeant."

"He deserves it. He owes me for the time I spotted him grocery money when he lost all his spare change on the subway. That's five bucks I'll never see again." He winked at her. "By the way, I asked you to call me Bucky."

"I must've forgotten," Jane blushed. For a moment, she saw the light and sparkle return to his eye. They crinkled when he smiled, filling her with unusual warmth. They'd been sitting together for barely ten minutes, and it already felt like there was no turning back. "I'm… glad we got to see each other again, Bucky."

Oddly, his expression turned grim, only for a moment. Like she'd inadvertently reminded him of something he was trying to forget. Jane tugged at her skirts, debating with herself if she should apologize. She would've willingly done so with no hesitation, she just didn't know what she was apologizing for.

He pursed his lips. "You work for Carter, right?"

Jane nodded.

"Then you're probably going to be seeing a lot of me." He wrapped his arms around himself. "Tell me something: is it completely crazy to turn down an honorable discharge after months in a Nazi hellhole, all so you can jump right back into the same shit that got you captured in the first place?"

"I've seen worse," Jane said lightly. 'I've done worse.' "If there's more you can do and you feel capable of doing it, I see no reason not to."

"You make it sound easy." Bucky played with the condensation dripping from his mug. He seemed to have lost all interest in drinking. Jane could relate. She'd lost interest in everything not directly in front of her.

"This is war. There's nothing easy about it."

Bucky nodded. "Took the words right out of my mouth. Also my pop's mouth. I got to call home yesterday and he said the same thing."

"You told them you're staying?"

"I had to," Bucky lowered his gaze to the table. "My Ma cried. Tried for half an hour to make me reconsider until my sister took the phone away. I've been thinking about it ever since."

Jane listened, unsure why he'd chosen her of all people to open up to. Had that one night really affected him so much? It had to be because he shipped off the next day. She was his last taste of normality before he fell into the proverbial rabbit hole of bloodshed and death. It was kind of sad; Jane had never been what one would call normal.

She'd also never been good at giving advice. Bad repetitive questions were more her forte.

"So do you think you made the wrong choice?"

"That's the thing. I know it's a bad decision." He played with one of his sleeve buttons. "I got no business going back onto that battlefield when I have a perfect opportunity to get out in one piece. Any other guy would kill to be in my shoes. To go home to their families and not have to worry about getting shot dead in their sleep."

"But…"

His mouth twitched, almost a smile. "But there's still more we have to do. Someone either very wise or very dumb once told me he had no business sitting in a factory when there are men laying down their lives. I trained too long, too hard, to back out now. I'm still a sergeant even if my head's all screwed up. I know this is where I need to be. Besides, if I'm gone, who's gonna make sure that punk over there doesn't get himself blown up? Or drive off a cliff? Fact is, he needs me."

"Or sit on an explosive," Jane murmured.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." Jane took a drink and almost gagged. It took all her strength to swallow; the taste would linger on her tongue for days.

On the plus side, Bucky was laughing.

"Not much for alcohol, are you?" He handed her a napkin. "That's a relief. I was afraid you only liked me for the free drinks."

"Don't worry, there are plenty of reasons why I like you." The list was longer than the list of reasons why she shouldn't be talking to him. "And I don't think you sound 'screwed up' at all. I think you're very brave."

"Brave is just another word for stupid."

"No, it's a word for brave."

"Now you sound like Steve."

"Thank you."

"Wasn't a compliment." Bucky tried to scowl, but it almost instantly cracked. "Okay, it was kind of a compliment."

Jane giggled. "Never forget, you're the one following him into war."

"He'll never let me."

Given what Jane knew of Steve, he was probably right. And given what she knew of Bucky, he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Kiss her," came a voice from Steve's table. A redheaded man with a well-trimmed mustache raised a glass to them as he wobbled in his seat. He had to be at least three drinks in. "Come on, Barnes, be a man!"

"I'm more of a man than you, Dugan," Bucky shouted back. "Just ask your mother."

"Sure thing. After I'm finished with yours."

"Shut up and kiss her already!"

"Do it!"

Everyone except Steve cheered. Alcohol sloshed as they waved their tankards around freely. Why they cared so much, Jane didn't know. War put things into perspective, she supposed. Appreciate the little things, like how fun it is to goad you friend on when he's trying to have a moment with a girl.

"Janie, would you excuse me for one second?" Bucky slid off his chair and she almost reached for him. "I have to go crack some skulls."

She only nodded. He marched around the tables with the gait of a soldier. Something about the confident roll of his back had her squeezing her legs together, bemoaning her inability to wear pants. Stupid outdated sexist clothing standards. And stupid Jane, letting herself get carried away lusting after a man she couldn't possibly hope to have.

Worst of all, he'd called her Janie, a nickname she'd never let anyone use. Not even Donald Blake and she'd been ready to marry him once upon a time. Now here was Bucky, so casually attaching the name to her, and she didn't hate it.

Coming from him, it sounded nice.

Steve wasn't the only one who'd gotten a promotion. Jane had, too.

That is to say, she was expected to do everything she'd always done, just in top-secret war rooms where Peggy and Colonel Phillips discussed plans of actions with Steve on how to destroy every HYDRA base in existence. Whatever was said, it was Jane's job to write it down, and have all relevant notes ready for review at the end of each meeting. When she wasn't doing that, she was watching Howard poke and prod at repossessed HYDRA weaponry. So far, he'd been thrown across the room four times and nearly blew up two hapless assistants, both of whom immediately requested transfers.

"Bunch of babies," Howard muttered after receiving notice from the second one. "I can't work under these conditions. Jane, are you sure-"

"Yes, Howard, I'm very sure." She'd lost count of how many times he'd asked.

"This isn't a personal thing, you know," he said, handing a report off to the secretary for filing. "I want you entirely for your brains and not at all for your stunning beauty."

"Thank you. I appreciate it."

"I'm not kidding," he said. "You're gorgeous, but not my type. Plus, I saw Sergeant Barnes in target practice yesterday and I'm honestly afraid to even be talking to you right now."

Jane, having made the mistake of taking a sip of water, nearly choked. "I… why would that scare you?"

Howard rolled his eyes. "Not to toot my own horn, but I'm kind of a genius. You don't get that title without developing excellent observational skills."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"Unless it does." Howard replaced his goggles over his eyes and called for someone to bring him a new pair of gloves. That was the end of that conversation.

But it was just the beginning of Jane's acquaintance with Bucky Barnes. He did indeed have regular training sessions at the shooting range. Jane sat in on one and after he shot twelve perfect bullseyes in quick succession from a tree three hundred feet away, she'd become convinced Bucky was some kind of gun wizard. That was before the shock wore off and her scientist side kicked in.

"It's like you've mastered the Coriolis effect." She felt like a teenage girl meeting her rock star idol. "How do you calculate each shot? Are you writing it all down or have you memorized the formula? Did you learn to shoot on your own? You've must've had a mentor, of course, but-"

"Do you ever breathe?" Bucky threw an arm around her as they left the training grounds together. At least fifty soldiers watched them go. "I don't want you fainting on me, doll. Come on, inhale, exhale."

Jane swatted his arm. "I know how to breathe, thank you."

"Just making sure." He grinned and her heart somersaulted. "As for your questions, let's go somewhere a little more private. This could take a while."

It took the rest of the night and into the early morning. Much to Jane's surprise and slight disappointment, 'finding somewhere private' really did mean having a lengthy discussion of physical theory undisturbed by crusty old colonels or officers brandishing paperwork. They commandeered a table in the back corner of the mess hall and didn't leave until late evening. Jane had left her notebook under her pillow and all her spares in her desk drawer. She resorted to scribbling on a napkin.

"I don't imagine you have a lot of time for note-taking when people are shooting at you. Maybe I'm naive, but I can hardly fathom how precise your shots are."

"Never thought it was all that special, to be honest. Just point at someone's head and pull the trigger. Seems easy enough." At her look of horror, he chuckled. "I'm kidding. I trained for months and worked my ass off getting the higher-ups to like me. They had me dismantling and reassembling rifles until my hands fell off."

"Sounds exhausting," Jane said.

"That's an understatement," Bucky shivered. "To pass the time and keep the monotony from driving me up the wall, I started planning. Where to aim and when to shoot. I knew the formula, so I came up with a bunch of different scenarios and tried to apply it."

"I'd love to hear some of those."

"I don't know about that. You got a week?"

He really didn't know her at all. "To talk science? I've got a whole year and then some."

"Sounds like it would take you a year." The last group of soldiers camping out with their empty trays took that moment to pack it in. Now they were all alone. "I heard you've been working on the side with Stark."

"I wouldn't say working with him," Jane blushed. How did he even know about that? So much for staying under the radar. "More like… consulting. I'm an unpaid helper of sorts."

"That's fair," said Bucky. "I'll be honest, most of this perpetual energy stuff he's working on kind of goes over my head, but if anyone doesn't think a flying car is the greatest thing in the world, we've got nothing to talk about."

Their talk did not last a year, but it was well past midnight by the time Bucky escorted Jane back to her room. He was stopped halfway by Phillips's secretary, a pretty young woman by the name of Private Lorraine. Jane had yet to interact with her, but first impressions told her the woman was very much about her work. Her work and one other thing.

"Captain Rogers wanted to speak to you, Sargeant." She sounded like she'd give anything for Steve to ask for her instead.

Jane snorted like a pig as Bucky took his leave with a bow. "Well, Miss Cinderhouse, shall we meet again tomorrow?"

She nodded, unable to do much more with her hand over her mouth. Private Lorraine found new interest in her nails and slowly backed away. They had to look way too sickeningly sweet together.

Returning to her bunk, she found Peggy in bed with a book. The gaslight had dwindled down to a dying flame. Peggy was usually good about conversing energy, but tonight it was like she'd been waiting for something.

"Late night?" Peggy marked her place and put the book away.

"Not too late." Jane changed behind a curtain into her nightclothes. They were essentially a potato sack and some slippers, but it kept her warm as they headed into the winter months. "I'm actually pretty early, right?"

"Oh yes," Peggy said, glancing at her watch. "You should have a good three hours to rest. I only hope Sergeant Barnes is as much of a morning person as you."

"Very funny." Jane got into bed and faced away from Peggy. "Also, whoever said I was with Bucky… with Sergeant Barnes?"

Her face was hot, but if nothing else, she could deny Peggy the satisfaction of seeing it. She pulled the covers over her head and didn't react to any tongue clicking or sighing.

"Jane, if there's something you want to talk about, don't hesitate."

"Thanks, but I'm okay," Jane said firmly. "I'm not going to do anything to mess up the timeline and change the future."

"I never said you would."

"Good night, Peggy."

At seven in the morning, Jane carried a stack of papers to Colonel Phillips office for final authorization and almost ran into six people along the way. She had mostly gotten her eyes open, but she still had to yawn every few seconds. Each room was clearly marked with names, and it only took her two tries to find Phillips' door, which she counted as a victory. Turning the corner, she heard a pair of voices.

"You're a hero." Female, and sultry. Like something out of a steamy romance novel.

"Well, that… that… depends on the definition-" Male, and nervous. Like an inexperienced virgin unaccustomed to female attention.

Jane walked a little faster until they were in view. Private Lorraine pulling a gobsmacked Steve by his tie. There was heat in her eyes which abruptly died as she checked over her shoulder and spotted Jane watching them. She let go and stepped back, arms folded. Steve was as of yet unable to move. He looked at Jane like she'd just used the jaws of life to pull him out of a car wreck.

"Sorry to interrupt," Jane said, making her accent as prim as possible. She happily dropped the stack of papers into Private Lorraine's arms. "These are from Agent Carter. They must go to Colonel Phillips at once. Thank you."

Jane took Steve's arm and walked off with him. Whatever he had to say to Phillips could wait.

"Thank you so much," he said. "I don't know what she was trying to do."

"Don't you?" Jane squeezed his hand. "If it ever happens again, remember, you can always say no."

They almost literally ran into Peggy. Steve swerved to avoid her and knocked a desk into the wall. He stammered an apology to the horrified agent as he hastily righted her workspace. His ears were as red as his face was pale, and it didn't escape anyone's notice.

"Is he all right?" Peggy asked. "He wasn't nearly this discombobulated yesterday."

"Let's just say you should keep an eye on Phillips' secretary," Jane hissed. "She doesn't know how to keep her hands to herself."

Peggy's mouth became a hard line. She was absurdly good at that. "Thank you for the warning."

Jane fell out of step with her and Steve as they entered Howard's lab. He had a whole treasure trove of new toys for Steve to check out, including carbon polymer to make his new uniform. That Granny sweater and winged mask just wouldn't cut it against a tank. Then there were his new shield options. Jane had seen them all and heard Howard explain their capabilities enough times to know not one of them would ever grace Steve's arm.

Indeed, he went for the vibranium and at that point, Jane tuned them out. The first time she saw the shield, she hadn't believed it was real. Because obviously, it wasn't. Vibranium was so rare, even in her time, that some people in academia suspected it didn't exist. Whenever some treasure seeker bragged to the press that he'd found an untouched vein in the middle of the desert, it always turned out to be rocks painted silver. On its own, that shield looked no more threatening than a large frisbee, and then Howard sawed three inches through a steel pipe with it.

There were no stars and stripes. Not yet. They would likely be added later, to go with Steve's walking, talking American flag look. For now, Jane left him to break it in. Amazing as the rarest metal on earth was, it was still far out of her field. The novelty wore off around the seventh or eighth time she secretly copped a feel.

Instead, a man across the room handling a sniper rifle caught her eye. Never a big gun person, she could only name the trigger and the scope. The latter had been removed, left on the worktable for configuring and reattachment. Currently, he was adjusting the muzzle. He whistled as he worked and it was with a dark sort of amusement that Jane realized the song was literally Whistle While You Work from Snow White.

"That the one for Barnes?" A man in a lab coat approached the station with a toolbox.

"Sure is," said the man with the gun. His name was Roberts if Jane remembered correctly. He'd asked her out for coffee once a few weeks ago and still made an effort to greet her every morning. " Almost got it fully calibrated."

"Good, because he wants to start practicing as soon as it's ready. Bastard's already got a whole section of forest cordoned off."

Roberts sniffed. "Who does he think he is anyway?"

The second man switched the toolbox between his hands. It looked heavy. "A ranking officer? Cap's second in command? A guy who can shoot a fly off a pinhead without looking? Take your pick. Speaking of which, I'd be careful around Miss Cinderhouse if I were you. A couple of guys spotted them together last night and it looks like she's taken."

"What? Come on…"

Jane turned away before either of them could see her. She walked through the nearest open door, head down and face hidden. If that made her a coward, she'd wear the name proudly. She didn't even care if she was in a broom closet or the men's room. Anything was better than listening to even more gossip about her and her forbidden not-romance with-

"Jane?"

"Bucky!" Jane slammed into the wall. The door was still wide open and waiting for her, but under his magnifying glass of a gaze, she was trapped like a bug. "Uh… I didn't know you were here. I'm sorry, I… took a wrong turn and then I…"

"Looking for the ladies room?"

"Yes! Exactly that." Jane inched slowly towards freedom. "So I'll just be going now. Sorry again for bothering you-"

"Wait, hang on a second," said Bucky, sounding urgent enough to freeze her in place. "I was hoping to find you anyway."

"You were?" Jane tried not to look at him. The lights were dimmer in here. It appeared to a back room stocked with office supplies and a few empty tables. Whatever Howard might need on a whim. She chewed on her lip as Bucky's feet appeared at the top of her vision. His boots were different than she remembered.

"I just got fitted. One of the nice things about joining a special forces op is you get to pick your own wardrobe. What do you think?"

Jane thought a lot of things as she summoned the strength to raise her head. His brown leather boots became loose fitting pants which resembled a paratrooper's. The pockets looked empty, but they were deep enough to carry several rounds of extra ammo. On his belt were similar pouches made of a thick material she couldn't name (more carbon polymer perhaps). He had a shoulder harness over a buttoned blue jacket which did wonders for his shoulders. In fact, it made his whole body look bigger. There had to be a layer of armor under there. He looked like the night they first met. Before HYDRA sunk their claws into him. She still shuddered thinking about it, especially now when he quirked a grin like he was the hottest guy in the world and well aware of that fact.

Which he was. There was no denying it. Nor was there any denying what that outfit and that smile did to her.

"Uh…" Jane swallowed.

"Uh?" he chuckled. "That's not promising."

"No, no, I…" 'I want to climb you like a tree.' "I like it. I like it a lot. It suits you."

Bucky smirked. "Well, my mom always says blue is my color. Says it brings out my eyes."

"Yeah, it does," Jane said. She chewed on her lip and, as if acting on an unspoken command, lost herself in the depths of his blue eyes. He looked right back into her average browns like they were anywhere near as beautiful.

This was dangerous territory. She'd been walking on a tightrope since the moment she saw him, and it seemed there was no way off except to fall over the edge into the abyss below. Jane wanted to say something else, keep things light. Maybe ask him about those pockets or where he got that jacket. She had to keep him talking and not leaning into her, staring at her lips like he was about to kiss her breathless.

"Hey Barnes, quit primping and get out here!" The mustached man from the bar barreled in with no introduction. He had also changed into new battle gear. They looked perfectly efficient and practical, but they were not blue. "You're gonna miss Agent Carter helping Steve test his shi-"

He blinked, mouth stuck in place with the word half-formed. It quickly died on his tongue, just a barely audible squeak. Bucky had backed away from Jane in the meantime. If they hadn't just been caught inches apart, it might look like they were just two platonic friends having an innocent chat alone in a cramped room.

"What do you want, Dugan?" Bucky snapped.

"Not to interrupt your moment," the man, Dugan, said, wiggling his eyebrows as he offered Jane a hand. "Corporal Timothy Dugan, at your service. Sorry for the unorthodox introduction, but it's not often I see a lady as pretty as you around these parts."

"Yes, I um… I get that a lot," Jane said. She took his hand and couldn't help notice Bucky in her peripheral vision. He was standing a little taller.

"We call him Dum Dum because Timothy sounds too intelligent," he said.

"And they call him Bucky because it's just adorable." Dugan pinched Bucky's cheek. "Aren't you the cutest little thing? Our darling boy taking his first stumbling steps towards manhood-"

Bucky knocked his hand away with a growl. "I really am going to punch you one day. Don't test me."

"Fine, fine, but you know, I think it's time the whole team met your new girl."

"Oh God," Bucky said, running a hand over his face.

Jane could relate. Her tongue was in knots and she had no good excuse to run when Dugan led her out into the open and towards a group of men chatting out in the hall. One of them was speaking rapidly in French while the dark-skinned man next to him translated. Something about a girl he once knew whose father was a prizefighter. It must have been really funny. Their hysterics actually drowned out Howard's voice.

"At ease, men. We're in the presence of a lady," Dugan boomed. He let go of Jane's hand rather suddenly. Then she felt Bucky come up behind her and it made sense. "Miss Jane Cinderhouse, I'd like you to meet Private Gabe Jones-"

The dark-skinned man tipped his hat to her. "Ma'am."

"- Private Jim Morita-"

An Asian man with noticeable stubble gave her a charming smile.

"- Jacques Dernier-"

The Frenchman nodded at her and then muttered something to Jones.

"He says you're too pretty for Barnes," Jones said.

Bucky glared at Dernier, who blew him a kiss.

"- and finally, Lieutenant Montgomery Falsworth."

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Cinderhouse." He was a well-groomed man with a kind face and a firm grip. His hand on hers didn't make her heart race the way Bucky did. His very British lilt, however, did. "Forgive me if I seem forward, but I can't quite place your accent. Where in England are you from?"

'Crap crap crap crap crap-' "Oh… all over. My family was never very settled in one place."

"Her granddad fought in the first world war," Bucky said proudly. "We are in the presence of a war hero's granddaughter, so show some respect."

"I'm always respectful," said Dugan, feigning hurt. "Come on, Barnes. What do you take me for?"

"That is not a question you want me to answer." Jane felt his fingers brush hers like he wanted to take her hand but stopped himself at the last minute. "Now if the peanut gallery doesn't mind, Miss Cinderhouse and I are needed elsewhere."

"Have a fun night, kids!" Dugan shouted after them.

"Don't acknowledge them," Bucky hissed as whistles and hollers from the team followed them.

Steve and Peggy, blissfully oblivious to the tomfoolery happening just a few feet away, had taken to arguing over the topic of Steve's new shield and seeing how effective it would be.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Steve peeked over the shield. "If it works it'll be fine, and there's no way it won't work."

Peggy stared at Bucky. "Is he always this optimistic?"

"He's a fucking idiot, so yes."

That was all Peggy needed to hear, as she grabbed a gun and fired three times at Steve's shield. The bullets hit the surface and fell, crushed flat. A few scuffs aside, the actual literal vibranium, which was not a painted rock, was no worse for the wear.

"Told you," Steve said.

Peggy dropped the gun and marched off, rubbing her temples. From everything Bucky had told her, Jane sensed this would be a recurring theme. Steve, meanwhile, was pointedly ignoring his best friend's cold look. It seemed an angry Bucky was scarier to him than getting shot at.

"Did I tell you I once caught him trying to fight a bulldog with a stick to protect some baby birds?"

"No, I don't believe you have."

Bucky sighed like Steve's presence had aged him a hundred years. "Why don't I tell you a few more outside?"

They left Steve to finish ironing out the details of their first big mission. The whole team would be briefed the next day, and until then, they had the night to themselves. Of course, it wouldn't be night for a long time yet. Jane checked a clock as they passed and it was barely eight. Sometimes, she forgot just how long she'd been in the past. Months had gone by, slow at first and then just like any other day in the New Mexico desert. Here she was, friends with a secret agent, a multi-millionaire, and a super soldier; getting way too close for comfort with a man who insisted on being handsome and smart and kind. At least Thor had the excuse of being a (debatable) god. No normal human being should ever be that lucky at the genetic lottery.

'Because Bucky Barnes is no ordinary man,' said a voice in her head which offered no further explanation.

They were all the way outside in the chilly weather. A light snow had fallen, covering the muddy earth in white (by tomorrow it would be just mud again). Jane wrapped her arms around herself. Bucky moved along like the cold couldn't touch him, and in that almost definitely armored coat, it probably couldn't. He didn't have his new gun or any kind of weapon to practice with at all. It was like he'd led them out here just so they could be alone with no one to hear them.

But there was no way he'd really done that, right?

Bucky turned to face her. "Okay, Jane, fess up. I know what you're hiding."