Bucky felt somewhat dazed as he and Harper were led into an office toward the back of the bank. His fingers squeezed hers as they followed the bespectacled man that would review their finances to determine their mortgage qualification. She tightened her hold on his hand, probably a mixture of nerves and a show of solidarity. They sat down in the chairs across the man's desk and watched as he opened the file folder of documents they had brought.
"Okay, so first we have Miss Montgomery…" he muttered, rifling through the first few pages.
"Doctor," Bucky corrected firmly.
The banker – Mason Rockwell according to the plaque on the desk – paused to look closer at the first page then nodded. "Ah, right. Dr. Montgomery."
Harper shot the soldier a grateful look before they both turned back to anxiously watching her information in review. Mason hummed lightly as he read down the pages, making a few notes here and there on the notepad on his desk. Bucky shifted in his seat. A lot was riding on this meeting. He knew that he and Harper had a very comfortable combined income. While she still made quite a bit more than him, he had evidently proven his loyalty and efficiency as a private military contractor; he had been negotiating much more lucrative contracts in the past months and the trend seemed set to continue. However, he also knew that a decently sized house right outside the city would be incredibly expensive. Their choice ultimately had to be affordable, but he desperately wanted to be able to land a home they really loved.
"Okay, so Dr. Montgomery's salary, student loans… Alright. Now let's look at Mister… Barnes?!" Mason's head shot up, looking at him with huge eyes. "O-or should I say Sergeant Barnes? What do you prefer, sir? I can't – I'm so-!"
The brunet felt heat rush to his cheeks at the attention. "No need for anything too formal, Mr. Rockwell."
"I apologize for not recognizing you. Wow, you're… well, I mean you're basically legendary! Captain America's partner, the Winter Soldier, now basically a mercenary who helped stop those Flag Smashers…"
"Mr. Rockwell," Harper interrupted pointedly. Her fingers closed harder around Bucky's and he couldn't help the wave of gratitude that rolled over him.
Effectively reminded of the situation, the banker cleared his throat and adjusted his tie, trying to get back into a more professional mode. "Right. Okay so Sergeant Barnes… several contracts here… hang on…"
It was a painful stretch of time watching the star-struck banker fumble through all their paperwork and punch things into his computer system. Finally, he turned his attention back to the couple with an excited smile on his face.
"Sergeant Barnes, Miss – err – Dr. Montgomery, I have to submit everything to my supervisor for approval, but here is what you can expect to be approved for."
He rotated his computer monitor on its base, allowing them to see the figure highlighted on the screen. The Depression Era soldier couldn't help but balk at the number staring back at him. Bucky never could have imagined having a family with such means. His excitement was soon tempered by remembering how outrageously expensive housing was in their desired area, but they certainly had a chance at a great home.
"Thank you, Mr. Rockwell. When can we expect to hear confirmation of our approval?" Harper asked.
"There is a little bit of a turn-around period. I should be able to call and confirm in about two weeks. You'll get a letter in the mail as well."
Bucky nodded. "Thanks for your help."
Turning his excited eyes on the super soldier, Mr. Rockwell asked, "Is there a preference as to who I should call?"
"You can consider me your contact person," Harper answered swiftly.
Bucky swallowed a chuckle at her well-veiled annoyance. She sounded perfectly polite to the untrained ear, but he could easily hear her irritation. Hoping he could keep his voice similarly even, he backed her up, "Yes, it would be better to call her."
"I could also call both just in-"
"I have a job coming up," Bucky interrupted. "My partner will be awaiting your call."
The banker nodded with a hint of disappointment. He paused, eyes flicking to Harper as he muttered, "Partner…? Ah, right…"
Harper uncrossed her legs, a physical sign of her agitation. She asked, "Is that all, Mr. Rockwell?"
Remembering himself, the other man replied quickly, "Yes, that will be all. Thank you for your cooperation and for bringing everything in today. You were so organized – made my job much easier!"
"Not a problem," the brunette answered coolly. She stood and Bucky followed, reaching for her hand. "I'll look forward to hearing from you."
"I'll call as soon as we have the final approval," promised the banker. "It was a pleasure to meet you both. Take care and enjoy the rest of your weekend."
Bucky and Harper each returned the well wishes and allowed Mason to walk them out of the office. They left the bank swiftly, and as soon as they were outside, Harper let out an angry huff.
"I don't even know which idiotic thing he did was most annoying!" she ranted. With a deep breath, she added, "Thank you for standing up for me."
"Always, doll," Bucky promised.
Harper squeezed his hand and let out a light laugh. "Of course. My 1940s gentleman."
"I love being your gentleman," he replied flirtatiously, drawing another laugh from Harper's lips. With a grin, he added, "Want to stop and pick up some breakfast sandwiches at that shop around the corner from home? Eat them while we look at houses online?"
"Ooh, yes please! I could really go for one of the ones with the avocado and salsa."
"There's no way you can understand," snapped the older gentleman sitting on the couch across from her. He scoffed and added, "Even with your veteran boyfriend."
Harper picked up on the derision in his voice easily and just as quickly noticed the anger rising in herself at the implications. She paused, checking the feeling for what it really was – fear that she and James would always be judged and hurt that the man she loved was the object of such polarized perceptions. Separating her personal feelings from the man in front of her, she turned over how to respond.
"I'm wondering, Gerard, why it is you feel I won't be able to understand you?"
"Isn't it obvious? You don't know what it's like to stare down the barrel of an enemy's gun. You don't know what it's like to be packed like sardines, clothes and boots soaked through from the mud and piss at the bottom of the fox hole you're living in. To watch the world go to shit anyway, even after all you did to try to stop that from happening."
Harper nodded slowly. "You're right, of course. Those are experiences we don't share. But it sounds to me like you're angry and disappointed, and-"
"Damn right I'm angry," Gerard cut her off. "How could I not be?"
Emphatically, she answered, "It makes sense you're angry! Your youth was spent fighting for something better, and you haven't seen the results you worked so hard for. It sounds like for you the way things happened after your service was very much not what you had hoped for."
"We're all under the thumb of the government - there's red tape on red tape on red tape! We fought and died for freedom."
"You sacrificed a lot for an ideal that's really important to you."
The older man nodded, sighing gruffly. "With no pay off."
"Can I push you on that just a little bit?"
"Sure, tell me what the hell I got outta seeing my comrades blown to pieces or running past guys gasping for breath as their guts were fuckin' spilling outta them."
"Well, we've talked about how your time in the military helped you develop a lot of really useful skills. You had to learn patience, loyalty and teamwork, perseverance… and isn't your service how you met your wife?"
Finally a new emotion appeared on the man's visage. A soft smile broke through the scowl. Gentler, he admitted, "That's true enough. Eleanor was an Army nurse. I had to see her once after a bullet sliced my arm open. She was efficient with her stitches. She stabbed me with that needle and pulled that wound closed without any fuss or muss. When I flinched she smacked my good arm and told me to buck up. And in that moment…"
"You were hooked," Harper supplied with a fond smile.
"She had me good," Gerard chuckled. "She was a true gem."
"She sounds like she was lovely," the brunette replied kindly, referencing the myriad stories he'd shared about his late wife. "And I can't imagine how much you must miss her."
"I miss her terribly," the older man nodded, eyes growing distant. "She understood."
"Because she served, too?"
"Yes," he nodded slowly. "But also because she would have been upset too."
"What do you think would have been most upsetting to her?"
Silence stretched between them for a long moment. Finally, Gerard replied, "Not only did the world just keep going to shit anyway, but her efforts were always invisible."
"Is that what's most upsetting to you, too?"
The old vet hummed thoughtfully before agreeing, "Yeah, probably."
"Then could you say more about that? Being invisible?"
The scowl returned to his face. "We came back from that godawful war and everyone was happy to be on the other side of it and for families to be reunited as much as they could be. But then it was back to work. A lifetime of trying to keep pace in the workplace when I missed out on getting an education or getting job experience when I was young. And Ellie was treated like an inferior at every hospital she worked at, even though she had been through more complicated, higher stakes shit than any doctor she'd ever worked for.
"The years went on, we struggled, we were forgotten. Then there was another war, and another, and another, and people forget about those of us who tried to put an end to fighting like this. Now Ellie is gone and I'm just some cranky old man."
"It must hurt to feel forgotten and left out by the rest of society."
"Yeah, and the news has been full of stories about your boyfriend, singing his praises as a WWII vet, a Howling Commando, the counterpart to Captain America then and now. Forget all the shit he did in the decades between Caps. Forget about all the people who were out there fighting for their country instead of against it."
"This may be totally off, but I have to ask, Gerard. Do you think that knowing James is my partner is going to prevent me from being helpful to you?" Harper asked, brows crawling toward each other in concern.
"No," the man sighed. His shoulders deflated along with his lungs. "Look, I don't have anything against Barnes. He's basically the POW to end all POWs. But I guess in the past months I've gotten sick of how this country talks about him when the rest of us are pushed to the side…"
"That makes a lot of sense. It must have been hard for all of this to come up so soon after losing Ellie."
He nodded several times, eyes shining with moisture. Harper frowned and said, "Have you thought anymore about joining the grief group I told you about?"
"I'm still thinking it over."
"Okay," she nodded, deciding not to push. "Can we agree that your task for the next week is to make a decision about it? If you want to try, I will set things up for you. And if not, we can brainstorm some other ideas of what might be helpful with that piece. As for some of the other things going on, it sounds to me like you're feeling very isolated from others and that society has taken your sense of purpose and accomplishment. Does that resonate for you?"
Gerard nodded, hastily rubbing at his eyes and recomposing himself. Harper continued, "Then maybe it's time for us to think about how to get that feeling of purpose back. Let's pre-emptively put that on the agenda for next week. Is there anything else you wanted to talk about in our last few minutes, or would it be helpful to practice that breathing technique I showed you last week?"
"We can do the breathing, but first… Harper, I didn't mean to be hurtful about Barnes. If he's your Ellie… I shouldn't have… I apologize."
"Apology accepted."
Bucky put the last spray bottle of cleaner back into place in the supply closet before shutting the door. He moved next to a more enjoyable task of volunteering – walking some of the dogs. Heading to the administrative area, he saw the door to his destination was open. The soldier rapped his knuckles on the wooden doorframe to announce his presence. The sound prompted the brunette in the office to lift her head from the paperwork she was bent over.
"Hey," Rose greeted. "You're always faster than I expect you to be. Hang on a second."
"Sure," Bucky nodded. He leaned against the wall across from the office and pulled out his phone while he waited.
Sam: We're good to leave Tuesday.
Bucky: Meet the night before?
Sam: Yes. Same plan as usual?
Bucky: Agreed.
With the mission start details set, Bucky thumbed over to his conversation with Harper, seeing he had a message waiting from her as well.
Harper: Crisis came up at office. Be home late. Can you pick up Aslan's meds?
Bucky: No problem, darlin. Remember to take breaks when you can. Love you.
"Okay, sorry about that!"
Blue eyes lifted to the woman who was closing her office door behind her. He pocketed his phone and said, "It was hardly a wait."
"So round one, I was thinking you grab Coco and Bear and I'll take Bandit and Lola?"
"Bear is still here?" Bucky asked, surprised.
"Yeah," Rose nodded with a frown. "Poor guy."
They had reached the kennels and the excited barking and movement of the dogs put a pause on the conversation. It took some wrangling, but eventually Bucky and Rose were heading down the sidewalk with Coco the Chocolate Lab, Bear the Rottweiler, Bandit the Beagle, and Lola the Yorkie in tow.
They made idle talk as they went, but Bucky was preoccupied by one of his charges. He hadn't been to the shelter in about a week, and the Rottweiler had already been housed there for several weeks before that. He was sure that after so long someone would have adopted him. It was a small shelter and dogs didn't tend to spend much time there. He was by far the longest habitant the soldier had seen so far.
Unable to let it go, he asked, "Have there been any people interested in Bear?"
"Briefly," Rose sighed. "As soon as they find out about his history, that's where the interest stops."
"His history?" Bucky raised a brow. He couldn't imagine what sort of history the friendly dog could have that would put people off.
"He was trained and handled by a bounty hunter who was killed on their last job. People are worried that because of that training he'll be prone to aggressive responses to stimuli we can't possibly know about. It's not wholly unfounded, honestly. But Rottweilers are so easy to train. It would take time and effort – as all dog training does – but he could be adjusted to a new environment and new commands."
"What'll you do if people keep backing out?"
Rose shrugged. "I'm not real sure. We're a no-kill so… Maybe he'll be an office dog?"
"That doesn't sound like something he'd enjoy," Bucky lamented, gazing down at the powerhouse of a canine trotting ahead of him. The dog was all muscle and needed to be able to run and roam. Bandit the lazy Beagle was much more suited to office life.
"No, but it's better than the alternative," Rose pointed out.
Bucky couldn't argue that and let the topic drop. He could only hope someone would come along who could see Bear for his positive qualities.
