A/N: I actually had this chapter finished last Sunday, but persistent internet problems have been kicking me in the ass. Sorry for the delay and I hope you all enjoy (because shit's about to get real...)!

Bitter wind prickled Jane's skin like shards of glass. She pulled her coat tighter around herself as she crossed the training grounds, counting each step until she was inside the blissfully warm HQ. Why anyone would be out in this kind of weather was beyond her. Surely, the US army, as well funded as it was, could afford a few indoor gyms. Or even a small two-person training room. They did have a shooting range. She'd watched Bucky beat his record for most bullseyes in under a minute three times(currently it was twenty-seven).

Yet there were those darn Commandos, running drills through the snow like all of them, not just Steve, were immune to the cold.

Jane waved at Dugan and Jones as they passed. Both men winked and tipped their hats to her. Somehow, they avoided tripping over hidden branches and rocks, so maybe all this harsh outdoor training was doing them good.

Not good enough to outpace the blue and black blur shooting past them, though. Bucky settled into a jog after lapping around his teammates twice more. They cursed his name to the heavens, but he was too far away to hear. He winked at Jane, eyes sparkling. She nodded back, moving with purpose toward the back door, her hips swaying a bit more than necessary. He would watch, she knew. Like they had their own language they'd developed without words.

It had been a year since their first kiss under the stars. Another Christmas and New Year's had come and gone. Her remote was buried under old reports in the bottom drawer of her desk, untouched since August. His ceremonial jacket was several medals heavier. Days passed, war raged, life continued.

There had been quite a few more kisses in between.

Bucky dodged a surprise swing from Steve. His speed was unreal, but not enough to save him when Steve followed up with a kick to his kneecaps. The Bucky shaped hole in the snow was a good six inches deep. Laughter replaced sympathy as all but Steve were busy falling all over themselves to help. Bucky rejected his friend's hand, ever the tough guy.

"You know something, Steve?" He brushed the snow out of his windswept hair. "One of these days, I'm going to be a big bad supersoldier, too, and then you're gonna find yourself face-first on the pavement."

"Yeah right. Keep dreaming, Barnes," yelled Dugan.

The men ribbed each other until Steve got them in order and the drills recommenced. Jane watched for as long as the cold would allow, which wasn't long at all. Running wasn't easy, even in practical shoes. The ground was unshoveled, leaving piles of snow to sit in wait of unsuspecting victims. Her footprints joined several other sets leading to the back door.

Jane stumbled inside like a baseball player reaching home. Heat rushed through the vents, banishing the chill from her bones. She shook off the slush and was almost completely dry when the doors burst open, and the very same men she'd been observing rushed inside.

"Done already?"

Dugan shuddered. He had icicles on his mustache. "I swear, my balls are frozen. I hate this place. Why couldn't we have the war in Hawaii? Or the Bahamas?"

"Quit whining," Morita smacked him upside the head. "Like stepping on glass, listening to you."

"I'll shove that glass up your ass."

They wandered toward the mess hall, eager for some gourmet mashed potatoes and meatloaf. Steve lagged behind as Jane smirked at him. "They certainly are lively, if a bit unorthodox."

He snorted. "They are? I'm the one who recruited them."

He followed his men, the shield bouncing on his back. That thing went with him everywhere these days. Rumor had it that a friendly had tried to steal it a few months ago to pay off some debts. It was probably made up, but as far as Jane knew, there would never again be a video or photo of a shieldless Steve.

Jane counted six heads disappearing around the corner. One was missing. Fingers played with her hair as a shadow crawled over her. She let him spin her and plant a sloppy kiss on her lips. All she could do was sigh and let his presence envelop her.

"You free?"

She moaned as his teeth nipped her bottom lip. "I have to give Peggy the notes for her next meeting, and then I have five letters to transcribe and send out before morning."

Bucky whined like a child. "But you promised you'd tell me about dark matter today. I've waited so long."

"Mmm…" Jane closed her eyes as his hands crept down her shoulders. "I guess I could spare a minute."

He dragged her into an unused meeting room stacked high with boxes. Enough to hide them from any passers-by, and Jane was gone for much longer than a minute.

"Okay, preliminary testing indicates a low level of gamma radiation, not enough to cause physical mutations, but if we ever find the main power source, I do not recommend touching it without three or four layers of gloves on." Howard tightened his goggles and stuck his face closer to the pulsing energy core. He had it contained behind reinforced fireproof glass. The odds of another explosion were down from eighty percent to twenty, but Jane still took shelter behind a metal table. Just in case.

"Do you think you can harness… whatever this is?" She had a vague idea based on her limited knowledge of the World Tree and current speculation that an attack on Norway coincided with the first known demonstration of HYDRA's new technology. Thor had mentioned his father's weapons vault in passing that night on the roof.

Howard scoffed. "Harness it? With the right amount of power, I can replicate it. Create a whole new element from scratch and see those Nobel assholes try to pass me up again."

"They wouldn't dare," Jane agreed. And they really shouldn't. She'd only seen the Stark Industries arc reactor in photos, but it was a hell of a thing. "I can see it now. Howard Stark: Nobel prize winner."

He took a fake bow. "Thank you. Thank you very much. I will not forget to mention you in my acceptance speech, Jane."

"Oh, you don't have to do that."

"Come on, enough with the modesty." Howard rubbed his stomach. "All the time with you. It's giving me indigestion."

That was probably more to do with the four daiquiris he drank last night, but Jane was far too into her role of 'polite Brit' to say so. "I value my privacy. Being in the spotlight just seems like such a hassle. I'd rather do my job and go home in peace."

"I used to think like that. Then I made my first million." Howard winked at her and dropped the notebook he'd been taking detailed notes in. There were barely any pages left and he had a box full of twenty more waiting to be typed out. "How about this? 'I'd like to accept the Institute's thanks for my brilliance and revolutionizing technology in the name of peace. I'd also like to thank my dear friend and colleague, Ms-who-should-be-Dr. Jane Cinderhouse, without whom none of this would have been possible.'"

"I sincerely doubt that," Jane muttered.

Howard gave her a wry look. "It'll never happen anyway. Least not with this." He tapped the glass. The blue light flared like a warning not to do it again. "The most basic tech we'd need to synthesize this stuff won't be invented for another few decades. It's sad, but I'll just have to trust that Albert will know what to do when the time comes."

Jane blinked. "Einstein?"

"Pft- yeah right," Howard said. "I'm talking about the kid I'll have when I'm old and ready to settle down. Little Albert Stark. Alberta if it's a girl."

"Albert…"

His smile dropped at her incredulous look. He completely misinterpreted it, thank God. "It doesn't have to be Albert. Could be Alfred. Or Arthur, Andrew, Abner… oh God, not Abner. I don't know, just something that starts with an A."

"How about Anthony?" Jane asked as casually as possible.

Howard started. "That's my middle name."

"Really?"

"Yeah, Anthony was my great-great granduncle or something. Don't remember. Not sure about naming my son that, though. People would call him Tony and he'd sound like a mob enforcer."

He thought of something new to write down and dug through his desk drawer for a pen. It was a good thing he looked away when he did. Jane could barely contain a toothy grin as she pictured Ironman shaking down lowlifes on the street for their money.

A knock on the door interrupted them. Five men entered, none of whom Jane knew. They didn't work for the SSR and they weren't scientists. The quality of their suits and the camera equipment they carried suggested something else entirely.

"Finally!" Howard opened his arms to them in welcome. "I was expecting you guys over an hour ago. I hope the traffic wasn't too bad."

The man in front, tall and bearded, shrugged. "Eh. I've had worse."

"Just be glad we're not doing this on base." Howard whipped out a pocket mirror to check his hair. "Security clearance is an absolute bitch. So Jane, you ready to see your favorite guy on the front page of the New York Times?"

"That's wonderful! I had no idea Bucky was going to be in a newspaper." Jane grinned in Howard's comically offended face.

"Oh, okay. I see how it is."

She shared a friendly laugh with him and ducked out of the way as the camera crew began setting up. Two men argued over the shading on Howard's face while Jane edged closer to the door. Not a single one of them paid her any mind, and if it could just stay that way-

"Hey, Jane where you going?" Howard pushed passed the cameramen and dragged her back into the spotlight. A literal blinding spotlight which had just been turned on. "Let's grab a personal shot before we get started, eh guys?"

The crew members rushed to work, not even considering the idea of saying no. What Howard Stark wanted, Howard Stark got.

"I'd really rather not," Jane said as his arm went around her shoulders, and he was much stronger than he looked. "I'm terribly camera shy-"

"Relax, this isn't for the news. Just my records." Howard moved them one step to the right so the weapon was in frame. The sick blue light would not render well on black and white film, but maybe that was for the best.

"I don't know." Jane tried to move his hand, not as hard as she could have.

"I promise no one will ever see this one but you and me," Howard said calling upon every ounce of charm he possessed to convince her. "And little Albert/Alfred."

The cameramen finished setting up and got into position for the first big shot. Howard stood up straight, his most newsworthy smile in place. How often did he practice that in front of the mirror, she wondered. More than Jane ever did, even when she was in college dreaming of the day she received a Nobel. Her smile was therefore much smaller, lacking his confident gleam. She hoped he was right and no one else would see this, for more than the obvious reasons.

"On the count of three," said the cameraman. "One, two…"

"Cheese," Jane whispered as the camera flashed.

Her return to base started out easy. As easy as it ever was. She showed her ID, which she no longer feared would be pegged as a fake (at least not as much). Peggy would be called and informed that her assistant was back on base, and once her identity was confirmed, Jane would arrive to a mountain of paperwork with her name on it. Literally. Peggy had given her an official nameplate reading Jane Cinderhouse: Secretary for Christmas.

After the ID and phone call, Jane thanked the guard and started her trek to Peggy's office. Or their office now, she supposed. A few soldiers greeted her, and she nodded at them. All was quiet on the war front for now and the men enjoyed their brief reprieve with beers and stories in the rec room. A man Jane didn't know entertained his friends with a few jokes. She paused to listen. None of them were very funny, but the men howled with laughter regardless.

"Gotta have something to get you through," she murmured, leaving them to it.

She was almost at Peggy's door when a man jumped into her path. "Miss Cinderhouse!"

Jane stumbled and would've shouted had she not instantly recognized him. "Corporal Dugan. Is everything all right?"

"No, it is not," he said, grimmer than she'd ever seen him before. "I need you to come with me right now. It's important."

"What? What's wrong?"

"There's no time to explain."

"Is it Bucky?"

"Just come on."

Dugan led her through the base. They made several turns, deep into a wing where Jane had never ventured. The dusty light bulbs barely clinging to life and lead paint peeling off the walls in sheets made it seem like no one had set foot down here since 1919. Chunks of concrete had been ripped out of the floors, leaving gaping potholes perfect for tripping and cracking one's skull open.

Gradually, the lights grew brighter. Decay turned to polish as the walkway evened out, allowing Dugan to break into a run.

"Hey!" Jane fought to keep up, her ankles tangling around each other.

They went through a narrow doorway into a hall where Jones and Falsworth were waiting for them. A short way's up and Dernier and Morita joined the party. None of them would look at each other, or her. Jane's legs burned like hot coals, her lungs were full to bursting. Nothing around her was familiar, and nothing made sense.

"Almost there," Morita said as if that would comfort her.

"How about where is there?" she fired back. "Someone just tell me what's going on!"

"It's Barnes, Ma'am," said Jones solemnly. "He needs you now. It might already be too late."

"What do you mean?" Jane grabbed at the large man's lapels. "What's wrong with him? Is he hurt?"

"Oh yes, Miss Cinderhouse, he's more hurt than you know."

"Indeed," said Dugan. They slowed to a stop before a door marked 'emergency exit'. The broken, rusted deadbolt lay on the ground amid piles of dirt. Dugan pushed the door open. "Poor bastard's got a hurting heart."

There was Bucky, decked out in his uniform, ready for action. He lacked his usual array of weapons, and it made him seem smaller somehow. Less intimidating. Jane had never feared him, but with his hands in his pockets and his back ramrod straight, it was almost like he was afraid of her. Dugan nudged her forward with a few encouraging words. Someone in the back snickered, but a quick glare over her shoulder put an end to that. She walked through the snowy bank, loose flakes clinging to the hem of her skirt. It was warm out for late January, but maybe that was just Bucky's eyes melting the ice.

"Sorry about them," he said as he took her hand. "I asked them to go get you, not put on free dinner theater."

"Just building up momentum," Dugan shouted.

Bucky flipped him off without looking away from Jane. The Commandos hurried back inside, leaving the couple with nothing but trees surrounding them. Jane took Bucky in. She'd already put it together that he wasn't in trouble, but it didn't hurt to make sure. She never needed an excuse to stare at him anyway.

"So... what's up?" She asked like this was a normal thing for them, and in a lot of ways, it was. "More target practice?"

He'd been teaching her to use a gun for the past few months. So far, she could load and unload in under a minute (almost good enough, he'd said), and she knew when and how to put her finger on the trigger. Her aim was a different story. There were a few bullet-ridden tree trunks and some untouched targets out there which could attest to that.

"Not this time," Bucky said. He was ready for the weather in his thicker coat, yet his cheeks had no color. He licked his dry lips. "I was… hoping I could talk to you about something."

"Okay," Jane said.

"Something important."

"I'm listening." She smiled, hoping that would put him at ease. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, great," he reached for her, then stopped. She wished he hadn't. "Everything's great. And it's great because of you. You make everything great, Jane."

"Thanks," Jane's coughed. "You're great, too."

Bucky groaned and pulled his hair. "Goddammit, I'm not doing this right. Let me start over." He took her hand. "Jane, do you remember what I told you about my parents? How my dad said he knew a week after meeting my mom that she was the one?"

It would be hard not to. That conversation happened so long ago, yet she relived it every time they walked together at night. Every time they kissed. "Don't tell me your balls are sweaty now."

Bucky sputtered as Jane failed not to giggle. "No! Jesus, no I… what I mean is, I used to never understand what he meant by that. It was fairy tale stuff. How do you look at a girl, and suddenly know she's the one you want to spend your life with?" He swallowed, and his fingers clenched around hers, possibly involuntarily. "Then that night at the dance hall, when I first saw you… god, you were like an angel. I'd never seen anyone so beautiful in my life."

"You have," Jane said.

"No," he said firmly, "I haven't. And when I saw you again after I got out of that hellhole, looking even more perfect than I remembered, I think that's when I fell in love with you." He stopped to take a breath and stood a little taller. "For a while, I thought maybe it was the heat of the moment. You're the last person I saw before I shipped out, so maybe it was me wanting to go back to a better time. But this last year with you, all our time together, I just keep loving you more and more every day. You make me feel like I don't have to be a soldier or a leader or even a good drinking buddy. When I'm with you, I feel like me."

"I feel that, too," Jane whispered. It was all she could manage. Her voice was almost gone.

He grinned. "I'm glad because I want to be that for you. I want to be the one you can come to when you're tired of playing as Jane the secretary and want to be Jane the astrophysicist again. I want to be the man you can lean on and trust and go home to at the end of the war. I don't think I've ever wanted anything so much."

"What if I want to retire to the country and do nothing but make star charts for the rest of my life?" she asked, a lump growing rapidly in her throat.

"I'd say which state and then I'd build you a house with a skylight." Without letting go of her hand, he fell to one knee. There was something in his pocket, raised and squarish. It to be a small paperweight or a rock or-

"Oh my God…"

"And so, Jane Cinderhouse," he pulled out a wooden box. It looked old with a stain on the lid and a few splintered edges, but the ring inside with the diamond-encrusted band and layers of circle cut jewels left it all behind. "Will you marry me?"

Jane clamped both hands over her mouth. "I… Bucky I…"

Wetness seeped through and she tasted salt on her tongue. Her ears rang, like a thousand screaming voices making words she couldn't hear, speaking languages she didn't know. Her whole body knew what she had to say. It didn't matter how much it would hurt, because every inch of her was logic, rationality, reality.

Everything but her heart and only her heart spoke clearly.

"Yes." She smiled until it hurt, wiping futilely at her eyes.

Bucky hitched a breath. "Yes?"

Jane nodded. "Yes. Yes, I'll marry you."

She could hardly breathe. Be it from the blistering cold, the well of emotion in her chest or Bucky's crushing embrace as he gave her the longest, most intense kiss of her life. Her head spun, drowning in pure bliss and adrenaline. They weren't alone anymore. The team surrounded them, throwing their hats in the air and cheering like Jane had said yes to all of them.

"You did it, Barnes," Dugan gushed, pulling Bucky into a playful headlock. "I knew you had it in you!"

"He bet me five bucks you'd chicken out," Morita remarked.

"He bet me ten," said Jones.

Dugan harrumphed. "I don't know what they are talking about. I'm a romantic at heart and I knew from the moment I saw you two that you were made for each other."

"Is that why you bet Falsworth he'd trip over his own feet and drop the ring in the snow?"

Jones laughed as Dugan shoved him. Their play fight commenced out of Jane's line of sight. Bucky slid the ring on her finger. It fit like it had been made for her. Falsworth shook Bucky's hand, congratulating him on his good fortune. Jones stopped prodding Dugan long enough to engulf Jane in a bear hug. Dernier kissed both their cheeks.

"Félicitations," he said, patting Jane's hand. "Vous faites un bien joli couple."

"Merci," said Jane, then squealed as Bucky captured her in another hungry kiss.

If there was ever a moment Jane wished would last forever, it was this. Here, in the dead of winter, the shadow of the war and HYDRA nipping at their feet, a glimmer of happiness was still possible. For all that he had seen and done, Bucky could still smile, still love her. There could be peace, even if just for one day.

Across the field, Jane caught a flash of movement. Steve stood in the doorway, beaming at his friends with pride brighter than the sun. Jane wanted to give him a thumbs-up, or acknowledge him in any way at all, but he wasn't alone. Peggy leaned against the wall, arms folded, face blank. One eyebrow arched, so slight Jane never should've noticed it from thirty feet away.

But she did, and if it didn't extinguish the joy in her heart, it sure came close.

Jane stood outside the office, staring at Peggy's name with her hand on the knob. It turned easily and the lights were on. A shadow inside had to be Peggy, but it barely moved and didn't make a sound. Jane listened for her voice. A nearby clock ticked away seconds, someone was driving away, and a janitor coughed, but all was quiet in Agent Carter's home base.

Mustering up the courage to face the music wasn't working out for her. Instead, Jane counted to three and opened the door. She walked in and sat down before her brain could catch up and stop her. Peggy was at her desk, pen in hand and papers out, not writing but staring forward. Like she'd known it was only a matter of time.

"Evening," she said. It was well past midnight. "You're up late."

Jane shrugged. "So are you."

Peggy took a folder out of the 'to do' pile. "I had some work to finish before tomorrow. It looks like you had business of your own."

She eyed Jane's blouse. The top button was in the second hole, exposing dark purple spots all over Jane's neck and chest. Jane turned away to fix it. It took her three times, and all she got were tangled fingers.

"I wasn't really," she said, getting the last button fitted and re-tucking her blouse in her skirt. "I was... taking a walk."

"You don't have to explain," Peggy signed her name on another contract. Her pen scraped the page like a blade. "An engaged woman has a lot to think about. Wedding planning can take months if not years, can't it? Better to get a head start."

Her tone was neither sharp nor angry. It was the kind of passive-aggressive that was barely distinguishable from sincerity. Only someone who knew exactly how badly they'd screwed up could detect it.

"Okay, I know you're mad," Jane began.

"Of course I'm not." Peggy didn't look up. "Do you think I haven't noticed all the time you spend with Barnes? The only part that surprises me is when he found time to buy a ring in between missions."

"It was his grandmother's." Jane adjusted the diamond, its round shape fitting in an indent on her finger. "She gave it to him for when he met someone he wanted to marry."

"And it was just your good fortune that he picked you," said Peggy. She signed another document with a flourish and placed it in the Done bin. It was nearly overflowing. "Do let me know if I'm to be your maid of honor. I'll need time to buy a dress."

"Peggy, please," Jane said, standing. "Just let me explain."

"Explain?" Her laugh was so unlike her and far worse than a shout. "You want to explain. Well, Jane, you've done quite enough of that already. Thanks to you, I know far more about the dangers of disrupting time than I ever cared to. Would you care for a refresher? Perhaps I'm the one who should do the explaining."

"Look, I know what I did was stupid. I should've-" Jane swallowed, her throat closing for the second time in less than twelve hours. She still felt Bucky's hands on her skin, his lips on her neck. They had left the party early to discuss wedding plans, and for the next few hours, didn't speak a word. "I should've said no. Or made an excuse. Or something, just…"

"What you should have done is never let Barnes get so close," Peggy snapped. "Don't try to tell me you haven't let your guard down. I've heard how you talk to him."

She let the accusation hang as if she enjoyed watching Jane squirm. "Yeah, he… he figured out I was faking the accent, but I never told him anything else. He just thinks I'm SR like you." Jane smiled to herself. "He even offered to help me practice so no one else would notice."

Peggy's sigh halted the happy memory in its tracks. She was pacing now, her hands clasped behind her back, her spine straight, her mouth a thin line. Drill sergeants, the world over would kill for that kind of stoicism. "I suppose I must shoulder some of the blame. I didn't say anything before because I thought you knew better."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jane muttered.

"You know what," Peggy said. "Let me ask you, when is the last time you worked on your remote? Was it a week ago? A month? Maybe two."

"I've been busy writing letters and taking notes," Jane countered. "All the stuff you told me to do."

"And when has that ever stopped you? Last summer your entire desk was covered in equations. Now nothing. It's almost like you don't even want to go back."

"Well, what if I don't?"

The sounds inside were different. No cars or sick custodians, just a belching heater and Jane's ears ringing at her own words. Peggy's mask had shattered, her expression almost enough to make Jane take it back.

"What was that?" She whispered.

Jane clenched a fist, impressing even herself with her resolve. "You heard me. What if I like it here? What if I'm happy with what I have and I don't want to leave it behind?"

"You can't be serious."

"Why not?"

"Because we're in a war!"

"A war we'll win!" Jane stormed into Peggy's space. "Do you want to hear me say it? We win, Peggy. D-Day succeeds. Hitler kills himself. Nothing I do is going to change that, so what am I afraid of?"

"You may not change the world's future, but what about Barnes?" The question pushes Jane back an inch. "Don't you think he has a future? If you weren't there, he could've met another girl at the dance club. He might have fallen in love with someone else. Someone he could actually have a life with."

"He can have a life with me."

"Can he?" Peggy stepped closer. "Even if you did stay, eventually he's going to realize you have no family here. No records. Nothing. He's going to ask questions and do you think he'll believe the truth?"

"Stop acting like I'm trying to hurt him!" Jane shouted. "Don't you think I've thought of all this?"

"Frankly, Jane, no, I don't think so. Because if you had, you would've accepted it long ago."

"Accepted what?"

"That you don't belong here!"

They stared at each other, shaking with emotions they couldn't express. Peggy's anger gave way to pain, her eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. She seemed to know there was no going back from this.

"Really," Jane said. She snatched the nameplate off her desk, her hand covering all but the first four letters. "Well, Peggy, you could've fooled me."

She dropped it hard enough to crack but not break. Peggy said nothing when Jane left. She didn't follow, and Jane didn't look back.

There was no noise in the bunk room. No clock, no janitors, not even breathing. Peggy had an uncanny ability to sleep like a statue, neither snoring nor moving until the trumpets called her to action. If only Jane could be so British, unfailingly refined even while unconscious.

Jane was 'asleep' when Peggy slipped in at a quarter past one. She stayed on her side, ignoring the broken springs under her ribs, for more minutes than she cared to count. After twenty-three it was just tedious. Changing positions helped for all of a second. The moon would not be full for weeks, and what light it provided couldn't penetrate the potato sack curtains. There were no stars. Nothing but black on black. Jane closed her eyes and wished for reveille. She never thought the day would come, but she was wrong.

"Shut up," she muttered to the Peggy and Jane in her mind. They wouldn't stop talking, repeating the same conversation on loop like actors preparing for a scene.

'You don't belong here,' dream Peggy said, far louder and harsher than the real thing had been. The more she played it back, the more distorted it became until it no longer resembled anything human.

Jane shoved a pillow in her ear. "Go away. Leave me alone."

She stared at where the ring lay on her nightstand. It didn't shine anymore. Her finger was cold without it, but still heavy. She thought about closing her eyes, but it would do her no good. Sleep would not come easy tonight, because everything Peggy said was true. Every single word.

Tomorrow she'd give Bucky the ring back. She'd tell him it was too soon, they didn't know each other well enough, it was better to wait until the war ended and everything calmed down to see if they were still compatible outside intense circumstances. After that, she'd distance herself from him little by little, making excuses when he wanted to meet up and taking on extra work to limit her free time. He'd be so consumed with missions and keeping Steve's head attached to his neck that he wouldn't have time to think about her. He'd forget having feelings for her and he'd take that ring and give it to someone else. Like that girl who stood him up the night they met or the French milkmaid who offered him her bed while the Commandos were stationed in her village. Someone who belonged in 1944.

What kind of life did she expect to have anyway? They'd live in a two-story home in the heart of Long Island suburbia. She'd wear dresses and pearls and put on make-up even if she wasn't going anywhere. She'd cook dinner and clean the house. She'd have Bucky's slippers and newspaper ready when he came home from work. She'd kiss him on the cheek and call him 'Dear' as she asked about his day. They'd have any number of children and she'd corral them into the car for weekend trips, just as long as they did all their homework and went to bed on time. In the evening, the whole family would sit around the big box, watching new episodes of Leave it To Beaver. She and Bucky would go to bed at the same time every night and sleep in separate beds.

She was going to throw away a lifelong dream- years of schooling- and shatter an already fragile timeline so she could be a 50s housewife.

She had to be crazy.

Her sheets were too warm, so she threw them off. The lumpy pillow put a strain on her neck, so she sat up. The ring was in her hand and she was on her feet. Out the door she went, walking on gravel and rocks in the shadows of dying light. It led her down a path made of lines and corners. Signs on the wall meant nothing to her. There was nowhere to go but back the way she came or down a certain hallway lined with doors bearing names she never should've known.

The first door was the biggest, marked CA with a star-spangled emblem. As if they were worried Steve would forget what country he fought for. Jane stopped at the second door, pressing her palm flat on the metal over a stamped letter B. She stared at it, listening. The person inside yawned and muttered nonsense words to himself. Jane's other hand hit the door. The muttering stopped. Seconds passed, and then the deadbolt clicked off and the hinges squeaked.

"Steve, I'm trying to-" Bucky stared at the air over Jane's head, his gaze slowly lowering until he met her eye. "Jane?"

She walked into his arms, pushing him inside. It only just hit her how cold it was, and how coming here barefoot in a paper-thin nightgown wasn't one of her better ideas. "Sorry," she said, her face in his chest. "I just wanted to see you."

"Hey, I don't need a justification," he said. "Just figured you'd want some alone time. Now that we're engaged, you're going to be seeing a lot of my ugly mug."

She laughed. It was the best way to mask her uncontrollable need to scream. "You're the farthest thing from ugly, Bucky."

"I know, but my mother always taught me to be humble." He bolted the door as Jane got a better look around. His room was box-shaped, furnished with a bed, a table with a map spread across it, and a footstool on which a lantern sat. The floors and walls were the same murky brown. The window appeared to be sealed with glue. Bucky caught her ambivalent expression and chuckled. "Not exactly five stars, but I'll take it over the barracks."

"Couldn't handle all the snoring, huh?"

"Mostly Dugan," Bucky said with a grimace. "He had a cold last week and he still sounds like a buzzsaw sometimes. Drives me nuts."

They sat on the bed, and Jane snuggled up to him. "I hope I'm better company than Dugan."

"Oh God, much better." He put her in his lap, pecking her lips once, twice, again and again. "Don't tell him I said that, though. Poor guy might start crying."

"Well, we wouldn't want to break his heart," Jane agreed.

He hummed into her mouth and pushed his tongue through her lips. Jane unbuttoned his nightshirt, sliding it off his shoulders and running her hands along his muscled arms. He'd worked hard over the last year and a half to regain all that he'd lost in the prison camps and it showed. They dropped on the mattress, kissing every inch of naked skin they could find until exhaustion seeped in and they settled for spooning under a wool blanket.

"Okay," he said, his chin resting gently on top of her head. "Ready to talk about it?"

He couldn't see her face, so she finally let herself cry. The words were right there. 'I'm sorry, Bucky, I can't marry you.' 'I love you but my career comes first.' 'I want this more than anything in the world but I need to go back to the future and never see you again.' The Peggy voice in her head fed her hundreds of lines. Some were terrible, others perfect. All of them so much better than the truth. "When I came here, before all this, it was just about the job. I had a goal and I knew how to reach it, and when I did, it would be over and I'd move on to the next thing. I can't sit still and do nothing and do nothing, I'm just not good at it… and then you came along, and you told me you loved me and you gave me this ring… and now I just want to stay here forever. In the middle of this damn war. Isn't that awful?"

Bucky nuzzled her. "'S not the war you want to keep, it's us. This thing we have. I don't want it to end either."

"It might someday," Jane whispered, shuddering at the thought. "Passion fades."

"Love doesn't," Bucky said, "not if you feed it right, and I plan to feed it every day for the next fifty or sixty years."

"Always planning ahead, I see."

"Someone has to." He kissed the shell of her ear, his breath tickling her cheek. "We're gonna have the most beautiful wedding."

Jane smiled through her tears."It has to be in the summer under the stars. I've always wanted to get married on a hilltop."

"My mom would want a church wedding," he said. "She'd probably settle for a priest, but we don't have to do that either. I know you don't really-"

"No, it's okay," Jane croaked. "I don't want to upset your mother. We just need to have a strawberry wedding cake."

"I like chocolate better."

"Of course you do." Jane rolled her eyes. "All right, we'll do half and half."

Bucky nodded. "So you've got the venue, I've got the officiant, and we're splitting the cake. I think we have this compromisation thing down."

Jane stared at the window. There were no curtains and white pinpricks shined down on her puffy red eyes. She closed them, savoring the feel of his powerful body. Never was she safer than with him at her side. Bullets couldn't touch her. HYDRA was as threatening as a playground bully. If only it remained true when they were apart.

"Will you be here in the morning?" she asked.

"It's already morning," he quipped, "but I don't know. We're supposed to leave early to get to the mountain."

"Everyone says this is a big one."

"It is. We're finally nabbing that bastard, Zola," Bucky cursed in French. Someone had been taking lessons from Dernier. "Just wish it wasn't happening on a goddamn train."

"You've faced worse," Jane said, and for a split second, her insides twisted. Cold dread came and went like a flickering light. When it was over, she pretended it didn't happen. Had to be her nerves talking.

Bucky sighed. "Never thought I'd see his face again. There's still a lot I don't remember about… you know…"

Jane took his hand. "You don't have to say anything."

"I should, though," he mumbled. "They wanted to give me pills to help the anxiety, but I'm not taking that shit. It'll just fuck up my reaction time."

"Sometimes it helps," Jane said. She couldn't speak for the quality of WWII era psychiatric treatment, but now that she thought about it, maybe he'd made the right call. "Talking helps, too, but only if you want to."

"I do," he said. "That's the thing. There's so much I… but I don't want them thinking I can't handle this. Because I can. I have to, but…" Shivers coursed through him. Jane rubbed his knuckles until they stopped. "It didn't hurt. Not like it should've. Soon as Steve found me I was ready to go. Barely even needed a medical assist. They put a band-aid on my forehead and sent me on my way. Months in captivity and all it got me a fucking paper cut."

"You must've already healed from the worst of it."

"That's what Steve said, and the doctors." Bucky yawned. It was contagious Jane had never been quite so tired. "I am in perfect shape for HYDRA hunting. You saw me taking those boys to the cleaners in training the other day?"

"Every second of it," Jane smiled. "You were so strong and fast and handsome, and I was so attracted to you."

He didn't say, 'I know.' or 'Aren't you always?' like she expected. For a while, as silence settled over them, she thought he'd fallen asleep. She was inching closer to the edge of oblivion herself. "I was never that fast before. Never."

Jane nodded, hearing every word but comprehending nothing. He kept going.

"Dugan was sick, and I always get sick this time of year. Every year… but I feel great. Better than great, like I'll never be sick again."

"Mm-hm." She'd hate herself for that tomorrow, but dawn was fast approaching. She had precious few hours to drift away and forget about her troubles. Just be a woman in love with the man of her dreams. Everything felt good. The ring, his arms, this bed, it was perfect.

"I think they did something to me."

Nothing could take it away.

Jane slept through reveille. That was twice now. It had to be a record.

An empty patch of mattress was all that remained of Bucky. She called his name twice in her sleep before noticing the lack of weight. On the pillow was a folded piece of paper with his tags inside.

'Hold these for me until I get back,' it read with a heart instead of a signature.

Jane kissed it. "So charming," she sighed. The paper was dry and crackly and not nearly as good as his lips.

She did as he asked and held them all day long. Sitting at her desk with a pile of fresh paperwork waiting for her stamp, Jane ran her fingers across the dented metal plates. His name, serial number, blood type. The letter 'C' in the bottom right corner. The chain long enough to go around her neck twice. When she held it in the light just right, the shine was blinding, or so she assumed. Clouds had rolled in early and had yet to let up. The sky was dark gray, an ugly color Jane had never liked. It reminded her of failed exams or bad breakups or funerals.

Peggy was at her desk when Jane walked in. She glanced up, but didn't speak beyond a standard 'Good morning'. Jane answered in kind and then they got to work. Occasionally, Jane would reorganize a folder with updated notes or type out a handwritten letter to be mailed out to Brigadier General Random Guy. Each completed task warranted a twenty-minute break to stare out the window and play with the ring and clutch Bucky's tags in a white-knuckled grip.

They'd left at seven, that was what she heard at breakfast. Lunch passed with no sign of them. At two o'clock Peggy left for a meeting and returned at a quarter to four. Nothing. Dinner came and Jane picked at her mashed potatoes while her stomach did somersaults. No planes appeared. No transmissions were sent.

It was almost eight in the evening. The sun was long gone. Jane paced around the room with a piece of paper in hand. It was something official with a stamp at the bottom and she probably shouldn't have been handling it so much. One side already had a microscopic tear Phillips would definitely catch.

"Has it ever taken this long before?" She took her ring off and put it back on. It was making her finger sweat. "It has, hasn't it? Of course, it has. It's taken longer."

"Are you all right?" Peggy asked. It wasn't the first time. Their quiet game had only lasted as long as getting on line for breakfast, but Jane still wasn't ready to address the elephant in the room.

"I'm fine," Jane said. "I'm just concerned like I've always been. Who wouldn't be when someone you care about is out risking his life? It doesn't mean he won't come back."

She walked to the door and turned the knob for no reason. She returned to her desk and sat down. Her chair didn't spin but she kind of wished it did. That would be fun. She could use some fun right now.

"Jane," Peggy approached her. "Everything's going to be fine."

"Of course it will be." Jane tried to laugh. Whatever came out of her mouth instead made Peggy wince. "I- I know it will be. It always is. Always…"

She rubbed her eyes. They kept burning no matter how many times she blinked. When Peggy didn't go, she grabbed another file off the stack. The first paragraph was half a page long and something to do with evaluations and upcoming inspections blah blah blah. Super interesting and engrossing military stuff.

"Jane," Peggy said again, sounding more like a mother this time. "What happened last night… what I said… I didn't-"

Boots slapped the concrete floors as voices thundered. First a few, then many. They all ran in the same direction, loud and giddy. Their words were unintelligible, but the roaring in Jane's ears that seemed to come from everywhere at once told her all she needed to know.

"Oh my God… finally," Jane rushed out the door after the soldiers.

"Jane-" Peggy started to say before she was drowned out. At some point, she'd have to follow. After a mission like this, Steve would want to see his best girl first thing. So would Bucky, and Jane was not one to disappoint.

She made it outside as the plane descended. Her heart pounded, the tags around her neck clanked. Dugan and Jones were the first ones off, instantly recognizable among their peers. They led a squat, bespectacled man out in handcuffs. He looked like a cat dunked in a bucket of water. Dr. Zola. Jane didn't have to ask. She was running faster than she ever had before. If she wasn't careful she could trip the man or knock him into a tree well, and what a shame that would be.

Falsworth was next, then Morita. Dernier struggled with his bag of explosives. He took that thing everywhere whether they needed it or not. When they were clear, Steve squeezed himself out. His shoulders were so broad, he'd have no trouble getting stuck in such a narrow passageway.

"Hey!" Jane waved. "How was-"

She slowed to a halt, her smile vanishing as she took them in. Jones grabbed Zola by the scruff of his neck and led him away, warning him not to say a single word. Dugan shambled through the snow, pale and gaunt, no laughter on his lips. Dernier regained his bearings, but he wouldn't look Jane in the eye. She squinted at the plane, waiting for one more person to de-board.

"What's going on?" Jane asked as Steve made his way toward her. "Is he in the back?"

Under the lamplight, she saw every inch of his face. Ashy, pale, stained with tears.

Jane's heart seized. "Steve, where is he?"

He stared at her, fingers flexing in and out like he was trying to take hold of something. "Jane… Jane…"

"Yes, I'm Jane," she snapped, accent all but gone. "Where is he?"

Steve swallowed and wiped his eyes. It didn't help. "Jane, I'm sorry…"

Those three words would haunt her nightmares. She knew it even then. For years to come, until the day she slipped away from this world into the next. Her knees grew weak, her lungs shriveling without oxygen.

"No…" she whispered. "No… he's not-"

"I'm sorry," Steve took her in his arms "I'm sorry. I tried. I tried…"

"No," Jane tried to shove him off, but he was too strong. "No. Dammit, Steve, don't. He's not- he can't be. He can't! No! NO!"

Her screams rose over the barren landscape. Birds flew off in fright and men bowed their heads in respect for their fallen friend. Someone began a prayer and a few more joined in. Jane's legs gave out, sending her and Steve to the ground. They held each other, swaying and crying, as a gust of wind enveloped them like an embrace, and the first few flurries of a new snowfall descended to the earth.