A/N: The new chapter has turned out a lot longer than I expected. With that in mind, I have decided to break it into two chapters. The next one will be out either on or before Sunday.

Until then, hope you enjoy!

There were a lot of ways Jane could've imagined being found out. Most of them involved getting caught on camera fiddling with her remote and becoming a number on one of those 'Top Ten Creepy Unexplained Photos' Youtube videos. Several had to do with Colonel Phillips deciding to look into her background one more time and discovering some damning discrepancy Peggy and her SSR guy missed. At least one had her going back to that London bar, getting wasted, and going on a tangent about all the ways the search for the Higgs Boson Particle could've been conducted more efficiently.

None of them involved being figured out by the absolute last person she ever would've wanted to learn the truth.

And yet, here she was.

There was nothing but forest surrounding them. Forest and the base which she'd have to move around Bucky to get to. Nowhere to run, nothing to do but stand there and wish she'd sprung for a warmer coat. This standard issue army jacket just wasn't cutting it. Unless the sensation of freezing came not from the air but rather the ice in her spine.

"I… I…" What a time to fall speechless.

Not helping at all was the faint curve of Bucky's lips which grew bigger the longer she struggled. If he was enjoying this, then he was damn lucky that Jane had lost all feeling in her arms. Otherwise, he was liable to get slapped. Actually, maybe she was the lucky one. With cheekbones like that, she was more likely to shatter her knuckles than actually hurt him.

He tucked his hands in his pockets, leaning on a wooden post. He wasn't whistling, but that would've been the perfect icing on the cake. If she had to guess, he'd favor something like The Bare Necessities, except she was pretty sure The Jungle Book wouldn't come out for another few decades.

"Go on," he said, gesturing at her with his head. "I'm listening."

"I don't… know what you're... " Jane coughed. Her accent was slipping again.

"Jane, come on." He stood straight and walked to her. "I'm not mad, I just want to know what's going on."

"I can explain," she said without thinking.

She couldn't. Of course, she couldn't. She could barely explain it to herself. How was she supposed to come up with a logical and comprehensive account of how she ended up seventy years before her time, and for that matter how had he picked up on it?

Was it the way she walked? Was it the way she talked? Had she used some random anachronistic colloquialism without realizing it?

"I hope so," Bucky folded his arms. His very nice arms, which Jane was somehow able to notice with the one percent of her brain that wasn't screaming. "Because I've been racking my brains, and I can't think of one good reason why you'd pretend to be British."

The whole story, from the night on the roof in Puente Antiguo to now, sat at the edge of Jane's tongue. If it were a tangible being, a single breath would send it plummeting. As Bucky's words registered, Jane snapped her jaw shut. Her teeth slammed together with an unpleasant clack. If she ended up with dentures in her old age, she'd know exactly why.

"What?" And that was definitely her natural voice. "I... I just…"

"Please don't do that again," Bucky grinned like this was nothing more than a casual chat between friends. "Cute as you are when you're flustered, I'd like to get this out of the way before we go any further."

Further where? She should've asked.

No, screw that, she should've run away. Run and never looked back and never talked to him again and holed herself up in Peggy's office until her remote was fixed.

Instead of doing any of those things, Jane swallowed and stood up straighter. "What makes you think I'm pretending to be British?"

She might've laid the accent on too thick. Even as she was speaking, she knew this. Anything close to resembling Scouse was long gone and that stupid smug smile of his would not go away.

"I'll admit, you had me fooled at first." He ambled on towards the base, prompting Jane to follow. "Once I shipped out, I got a hear a lot of different accents. I had no idea there were so many and yet not a single one of them sounds like yours. What happened just now with Falsworth sealed it for me. You're not really British. In fact, I think you're American."

"How do you know I don't just have an accent Falsworth hasn't heard before?" Jane snapped childishly. "He may be well-traveled but he can't possibly know what everyone everywhere sounds like."

"Fair enough, but you also told him your family moved around," Bucky said, "and when I asked you at the bar, you said they didn't."

"I did not say that."

"You implied it."

"If you must know, my family comes from Liverpool. I was born and raised there."

"I doubt it. You don't sound even remotely Scouse."

"My mother is more Scouse than you'll ever know."

"Then I guess you take after your father."

They were at the back door, but they didn't go inside. The training grounds were empty this time of night. If they were caught by some wayward private out for a smoke, Bucky could just pull rank and they'd be on their way. Jane almost wished Phillips would be the one to spot them. At least then she could maybe get out of here. Unless Bucky decided to expose her… no, he wouldn't do that.

He wouldn't, right?

"Look, I'm not bringing this up to start a fight," he said, "I want us to be honest with each other. If this is some top secret thing you and Carter have going on, that's fine. I know how it goes. I just want the truth."

Those damn blue eyes made her absolutely weak. They implored her to do what he asked. Tell him everything, just like she'd been planning to not a second ago. Maybe he'd believe her. His best friend was a real-life Superman so maybe her being a time traveler would only be a little bit strange in comparison. Or maybe fumes and the germs in the air which her body wasn't familiar with had traveled to her brain and that was why any of this sounded like a good idea.

"I… guess I can talk to you like this now," Jane said in her normal voice.

"Okay, that I recognize." He threw an arm over her shoulders, warming her up. "So where are you really from?"

"Pennsylvania," Jane said truthfully. "That's where I was born anyway. My mom really is from Liverpool and we did move a few times when I was younger. Before I came here I was in New Mexico for work."

"Secretarial work…" he said skeptically.

"I'm a physicist. A real one with a degree. Nobody knows except Peggy so keep it to yourself."

"Not even Stark? You work with him."

"Consult," Jane insisted. "And as long as he thinks I'm just an assistant with a hobby that's all I'll have to do. For now, it needs to stay that way. I'm sorry, but I can't say more than that."

"Don't apologize," Bucky said. He was an excellent actor. For a second, Jane believed he really was okay with this. "I told you, I get it. I was thinking you were another secret agent like Carter."

"Trust me, I am the farthest thing from a spy," Jane laughed. "I'm just someone in way over her head, but I have to stick it out to the end."

"Sounds like everyone in this hellhole." A grimace flashed across Bucky's features. His hands grew as cold as the snow. In an instant, his cool demeanor, which had pulled her in and refused to let go, became just a mask. It had only been a few weeks since Steve found him strapped to an operating table, pumped full of enough drugs to make him forget his own name. Jane resisted the urge to hug him and shrugged.

"We're all doing the best we can out here. Just trying to win the war and go home."

"Where is home for you?" He kicked aside a pebble. It rolled off into the snow-covered grass. "New Mexico?"

"I don't know," Jane answered. "I kind of just go with the flow. Do whatever I feel like. I haven't been settled anywhere since I was a kid."

"Do you want to be?"

"Maybe." Jane scooted closer to him. It was like an icebox out there. "I think so. I love being able to pack a bag and just go with nothing tying me down, but sometimes I think about getting a house, putting down roots-"

"Finding a guy?"

Jane coughed as a mouthful of spit threatened to go down the wrong tube. "Is that an offer?"

Bucky smirked. "That depends on you, but what do you say when this whole war business is over, you come and visit my family in Brooklyn? My mom makes a mean chicken dinner. See if it helps you make up your mind."

That was definitely an offer. No two ways about it. If there was ever a time to get the hell out of dodge, it was now. Time to tell him straight out that a relationship between them would never work and they were better off as friendly acquaintances who rarely if ever interacted with each other, so the best thing they could do was end this before it began and forget it ever happened-

"I'd like that." Jane glanced away and hoped her messy hair was enough to hide her luminescent blush. "I could use a break from the… sustenance they serve in the mess hall."

Bucky chuckled. "That might just be the nicest thing I've ever heard about the food here."

"Thank you, I do try."

They returned to the base and went their separate ways, Bucky, being Bucky, couldn't let her go without a bow and a kiss on her hand and a promise of front row center seats for his practice tomorrow.

"We're heading to Germany on Friday," he said, stretching his neck. "I gotta be ready to go wipe the floor with those assholes."

"I believe in you," Jane said.

There were those crinkles again, every time he smiled. Had his eyes always done that and she'd just never noticed? She was still thinking about it that night, as she rolled around in bed long after Peggy lost consciousness (one day some unlucky sap would have to break the news to Peggy about her snoring). Even when she should've been more concerned with how close Bucky had come to discovering her secret. She'd have to be more careful around him from now on. Fortunately, he'd be spending the next few months running around Europe destroying HYDRA. No way they'd have time for another illicit encounter.

Right?

The Howling Commandos were an unstoppable force of Allied strength and American Patriotism, slicing through Nazi forces with the strength of a grizzly bear and the swiftness of the great bald eagle. That's how all the newspapers described them in their headlines every other day. If Falsworth or Dernier had any objections, Jane never heard them. They took the glowing praise with grace, just like their companions.

Six months into their tour of Europe, and there were three less HYDRA bases and several hundred (if not several thousand) fewer HYDRA agents. Steve led the charge across Belgium and through Czechoslovakia. He rallied a group of civilians to his cause in London. He took back a castle in Denmark. Their exploits made it into the Captain America comic series, still running in all it's propaganda-laden glory. Those titles would end up in the hands of collectors one day. Her dad's friend kept them framed in his basement next to his son's baby pictures.

All the while, Steve had an elite team of experts flanking him. Morita was their communications officer, coordinating attacks and intercepting messages from enemy broadcasts like it was entry level coding. Dernier was the explosives expert, and he seemed to take perverse pleasure in watching tanks flare up into infernos. In the trees above, hidden from all save the keenest of eyes, a sniper waited to strike.

Jane sought him out in every video, a black dot on the white Siberian landscape or a flash of gray on a warm day in France. The cameras rarely panned away from Steve, who remembered his acting days enough to smile once in a while. When they did remember the other Commandos, Bucky was always there. In that damned jacket with his perfect hair and his blinding smile. He was interviewed once or twice, usually about what Steve was like growing up. He didn't seem to mind the questions. His answers were never lacking in details.

"This one time, he got his pants stolen by some punks who wanted to sell them for a new slingshot," Bucky smirked as the man behind the camera stifled a laugh. "He literally walked to school in just his underwear. You remember that, right Steve?"

"No comment…"

"Yeah, he remembers."

Film reels arrived several times a month. Only a select few would ever be released to the public. A video of the men huddled over a map on the hood of a car would one day be part of Jane's American history curriculum. Jones's head obstructed her view of Bucky which might explain why she hadn't immediately recognized him the night they met. Looking back, she should've made the connection between Captain America's right-hand man and Bucky Barnes ages ago. He'd been right there in that documentary the day she had her accident, inexplicably sexy coat and all. He might not have been a swaggering super soldier, but the camera still loved him.

She chalked it up to exhaustion. Whoever had the bright idea of running drills at five in the morning deserved to never sleep a wink for the rest of their lives.

Jane shot Peggy a glance. She was playing the role of third-party observer to perfection. Not until the close up of Steve's pocket watch with her photo inside did the mask crack, as her eyes popped out and she forgot how to breathe. Jane thought she should've said something, but as sweet and romantic as Steve's devotion was (thank God Jane stopped that kiss before Peggy saw), Jane's eyes were drawn away, as if by magic, to the man beside him. For a split second, before Steve took the camera around to the other side of the car, she saw a chain sticking out of Bucky's pocket. He had a watch, too.

Whose picture did he have?

'Not yours,' said the bitter voice of her common sense. 'Because you can't take any pictures, remember?'

Jane hated that voice.

The Commandos became regular features in the news. Certain officers and assistants kept carefully cataloged collections of every article, filing them away in case they were ever worth something. Jane made a point to read everything she came across, even if she had to peer over Howard's shoulder to do it. Most of the photos had Steve front and center. The rest of the team were often squeezed into the margins if they appeared at all. It left a bad taste in Jane's mouth. Not that Steve didn't deserve credit for his hard work. He was out there risking his life on a daily basis, but he was hardly the only one.

Time passed faster than Jane knew. Christmas came and went in a whisper. Jane looked at the calendar one day and it was December 24th. Peggy had a small tree on her desk, but other than an excuse to get drunk on the government's dollar, no one on the base had much holiday spirit.

Jane's free time was spent evenly in three ways. Most nights, she had dinner in the mess hall with Peggy. They'd chat about her progress on the remote or how much they hated the weather in whatever country they'd landed in this week. Every now and then, if Peggy was in a good mood, she'd let the brick wall around herself crack and reveal some personal details. Those days were by far Jane's favorite.

"So you were really engaged once." her eyes flicked to Peggy's unadorned ring finger. "I honestly wouldn't have pegged you as the housewife type."

"Whyever not?" Peggy asked innocently. "I'm perfectly domestic when I want to be. I can turn on a stove with the best of them."

"You can turn on a stove?" Jane shook her head in amazement. "God, you're so talented."

Their snickers made a group of bald, burly privates stares at them until Peggy decided to stare right back. They buried their heads in their food and did their best to blend into the dull green walls.

"I suppose in the end, work came first," Peggy said, her face unreadable. "It's not that I didn't love Fred, but I had to look at the bigger picture. By joining the SSR and doing my work undercover, I may have helped turn the tides of the war. If I had another chance, I can't say I'd do it any differently."

"Look on the bright side," Jane folded her copy of today's newspaper. Steve was on page five. He'd just rescued another hundred POWs. "Now you can take your love life to work with you."

Peggy flicked a pea at Jane's face.

If she wasn't with Peggy, she was with Howard, getting a crash course in advanced mechanical engineering and learning more ways to kill people than she ever cared to know. By New Year's, Howard had made a breakthrough in his tireless study of the recovered HYDRA assault rifles. There were several holes in the wall and he was on his eighth desk after disintegrating the last one, but no one could say it wasn't worth it.

"This is what they used to turn our infantryman into scorch marks," he said with a face full of uncomfortably glowing blue light. Even with clunky antique goggles forced over her head, the heat burned her retinas. It rippled and danced in its metal containment, like a caged beast hungry for its next meal. "I've just about isolated the core and it is fascinating. Also disturbing. But also fascinating. I'm very conflicted as you can tell."

"It happens to the best of us," Jane muttered. She'd already calculated how much distance she'd have to put between herself and the core to avoid getting her head blown off from an accidental misfire. This whole scenario was distressingly familiar. "Just wait for the giant robot attack…"

"The whatnow?"

"What?" She looked around. "I didn't hear anything."

On the rare quiet day when she had her work done early and was fed up with her remote refusing to be more than a hunk of metal and wires, Jane would take long walks outside the base to clear her head. She'd sit in the rec room with a book or go back to her bunk for a twenty-minute catnap. Sometimes, HYDRA would maintain radio silence for a few weeks and that was when she could expect to be snatched out of the hall and dragged off for a private moment with one incorrigible sergeant.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he whispered in her ear as he slipped a box of chocolates in her hands.

"Can't believe you remembered," Jane giggled without shame. Better she look like a lovestruck schoolgirl than admit she'd forgotten another holiday. "Where'd you get these?"

"We do get paid for our services, you know." His mouth was so close to her ear, he could kiss it. "I found a little shop in Czechoslovakia and had to get it for you. My favorite phony British girl."

Jane nudged him. "I'll get you for that someday."

"Do this mean you don't like the chocolates?"

"No, it means I won't share them with you."

He pouted like a baby until Jane relented and gave him a truffle.

Such was life in the middle of this devastating war, brief moments of peace stolen away wherever she could find them. Bonding with her friends, deepening connections which should have remained shallow. If she tried to pull away, she always found her way back to Bucky. Or he found his way to her. Hard to say.

Jane certainly wished he was around the day she found herself barricaded in a dilapidated shack with a hundred HYDRA operatives closing in on the blockade.

There was only one place big enough to hide in, an old hope chest with a broken lid and two corners rotted away. Jane had to curl up inside herself to fit, and her spine was in agony as bullets flew in all directions, taking out the decaying walls piece by piece. Jane kept one ear exposed, listening to Peggy shout orders and Steve slice through armored men and tanks. Something exploded, close enough to shake the building. A few planks broke off the ceiling, just barely missing her. Jane squeaked and forced her head up.

"How did this happen?" She spoke to no one as she wiggled herself free from the trunk and crawled on her elbows to the window. "We were just on an inspection. It was routine. Why attack now of all times?"

If she were a military strategist, she could probably come up with a more in-depth and solid explanation. But she was a scientist and all that told her was the velocity of each bullet and how hot those blue energy emissions had to be to burn away an entire steel chair in under a second.

"Oh god," Jane mumbled as she crawled back on her ass. "Oh god ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod-"

Would dying in another time period be enough to cause a paradox? If they buried her, that would mean her decaying skeleton would eventually exist at the same time as her younger self. It was unlikely that little Jane would happen upon older Jane's grave, but even with a different last name on it, just being six feet away from each other could have any number of effects on the space-time continuum.

If it hit the universe, no more universe.

If it only hit she herself, she would be erased from existence and not grow up to be an astrophysicist. She would not have sent herself back in time to be killed in the 1940s, which would cause an even bigger paradox than the one that erased her, which would mean no more universe.

Therefore, she had to do everything in her power to not die.

The next bullet punched a hole three inches in diameter into the wall next to her head. From then on, it was only energy blasts.

"No guts no glory, Jane." She got down on her stomach and slithered across the cabin. "More like no guts no living…"

The attacks were all over the place. Nobody seemed to know who they were fighting. Jane made it to the other side and peeked through one of the holes. There was Peggy pistol-whipping a man before shooting him dead. Two more snuck up behind her but she only ducked her head as Steve's shield sailed into them.

She searched the area for Bucky, nearly shrieking out loud as a bloodied hand appeared in her line of sight. It connected to a body, ripped apart and glassy-eyed. The uniform was American. On his leg was a walkie-talkie spitting out static and a few mangled words. The eyes weren't aimed at her, but she felt their weight all the same.

Jane held her breath to keep from vomiting and muttered apologies as she slid the walkie out by the antenna. It gasped and beeped, but all HYDRA cared about was Captain America, not some random secretary caught in the crossfire.

She stayed low as she fiddled with the knob, listening for a hint of a familiar voice and keeping her eyes on the treeline. She caught movement in the blistering white. A hint of black where it shouldn't be and a glimmer preceding a gunshot. She hit a certain station and paused. Words rang out loud and clear.

"I got two more coming in from the left. Might need some back-up. Tell Steve to get that damn popsicle out of the way so I can-"

"Bucky!" Jane hissed, failing to keep the squeak out of her voice as a nearby jeep disintegrated. "Can you hear me?"

"Jane?" There was rustling on his end and she feared for a moment that she'd lost him. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm okay. I'm hiding in a bunker. I mean, I think it's a bunker. I'm not really sure, but I'm safe." Another window shattered; thankfully not the one she was under.

"First of all, this is a party line so watch the accent. Second, what God's name do you think you're doing?"

"I don't know," she admitted, "just wanted to talk. Also, there's a sniper and I didn't know if you'd seen him."

"I can't see anything. My scope is cracked."

"I think they might be camouflaged. There's at least two of them. Can you see the trees over the building with all the holes and broken windows?"

There was a short pause. "Are you inside the building with the holes and broken windows?"

A ceiling panel hit the floor. "Just please shoot that guy. He's in the really tall tree three to the right of the gate. I think that's twelve o'clock? Or maybe two-"

A bullet knocked an avalanche of snow off the tree. A man in white gear and his gun fell with it. Thought it was only for a second, Jane thought she saw a red hole between his eyes. Another energy shot flew in the direction of the bullet, and Jane's heart seized. Bucky cursed and fired twice more. Both bullets hit home and the second man was down.

'Okay yeah, twelve o'clock.'

"Dirty fuck," he seethed. Jane heard him cock his gun and the sound made her stomach ache. "Almost blew my arm clean off."

"Are you okay?" Jane held the walkie tight and sat up now that no one else was shooting at her.

"I'm great. Don't worry about me," he said. "With your sweet voice in my ear, nothing's gonna bring me down."

Jane started to smile before her eyes returned to the cooling corpse half buried in snow. She squeezed the stolen walkie tight enough to break it. First, she looted him now she was laughing.

"Jane, you there?"

"Yes!" Jane turned all the way around. "I'm here. You uh… you're an awful flirt, you know that?"

"Just trying to lighten the mood," he said. "I'm still mad at you, by the way."

The battle was over, restoring marginal peace to the snow-capped forest. Jane stumbled out of what remained of her sanctuary, twisting her legs so as not to step in red snow, straight into Steve's arms. Jane leaned all her weight into him, which was a bit like hitting a brick wall with a pool noodle. Every one of Jane's limbs felt liquified. It was a miracle she'd taken even one step on her own.

"I miss the desert," she mumbled. "Nothing happens in the desert."

Except for alien invasions and angry Norse god battles.

"That does sound pretty good right about now," said Steve.

He swept her into his arms and carried her to the newly arrived convoy. They had answered Peggy's hails, at last, twenty minutes and seven dead friendlies too late. Two men dragged gurneys out the back of their truck. They started with a fellow leaning against a tree sans head, and then Jane closed her eyes.

She counted the number of steps Steve took, making her thoughts as loud as possible. Somewhere, Peggy was chewing out another officer over the phone while Jones and Dernier carried on a lengthy conversation in French. At six steps, Steve stopped. Someone was standing in front of them.

"I got her."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Well, if you really want her-"

"Shut up, punk."

Jane felt herself get passed between hands but didn't react. Objecting was the last thing on her mind as she settled into Bucky's strong grip and breathed in the scent of gunpowder on his jacket. It made her nose burn and her eyes water, but she couldn't get enough of it.

His gun was slung over his shoulder. It was big and mean-looking. She had no idea what to call it other than death machine, so instead, she focused on his perfect jawline covered in stubble; those damn lips of his which she couldn't believe no one else was entranced by. Didn't his whole team just want to make out with him all the time and damn the consequences? No way that was just her.

"You've been waiting ages to get me like this, haven't you?"

"Technically, I'd hoped for a different locale." He stepped over a bloody body. The sight of it knocked the smile off Jane's face. "And I'm still mad."

"Would it help if I said we weren't expecting the ambush and that's why Peggy let me come along?"

"Nobody ever expects an ambush. That's why it's called an ambush." He slowed his pace as they moved over an icy patch of snow. "At least next time Peggy'll have you stay back."

"You make it sound like you don't want me here," Jane said.

"I want you safe." They had reached an empty truck meant to take all the uninjured men back to base. It was only then Jane noticed the cut on his forehead. The former nursing minor in her cringed. He needed some antiseptic on that and soon. "You're not a soldier, Jane. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," she said defensively. She reigned it in at his hard, accusing stare. "I mean… do I need to be? I have you guys."

A medic with excellent timing chose that moment to drag Bucky away and give him a quick examination.

It took them half an hour to get on the road, and the trip back felt three times longer than the trip there. Peggy spent it trying to nap but kept mumbling to herself about write-ups. Dugan started telling a story about a drill sergeant who passed gas one day during the morning inspection. Not the most engaging tale, but it got a few laughs. Even Falsworth cracked a grin, though, like most of the men, his eyes remained haunted.

Jane failed to hear most of it. All her attention was on Bucky, shunted into the far corner with a bandage on his forehead and the rifle in his lap. He shot her a piercing look and mouthed 'later'. She knew exactly what that meant; this conversation was not over and she was still in trouble.

Which was fine. He wasn't really mad at her, just concerned. By nature, he was a protector, and since Steve could take care of himself now, he'd moved on to Jane. That was all anything he did meant. She was an innocent bystander caught up in a war, so he spent his free time around her and kept her secrets and bought her gifts and called her his favorite girl because he wanted to keep her safe. Just like any other decent human being would do.

Even as she thought it, she felt like her common sense was laughing at her.