Chapter 11. Sergeant Barnes

This chapter is primarily a look at a particular day for Sergeant Bucky Barnes. Although nothing of consequence happens it does portray him as easy going with his fellow soldiers and with members of the opposite sex. In this AU Bucky has been able to adjust better to his new abilities, not trying to hide them from the doctors or his friends. This chapter also touches on the racism experienced by black servicemen, many of whom were there in an auxiliary capacity, rather than as fighting men. There was a definite anti-American sentiment expressed more by the older British generation, as the buoyant confidence of the Americans was seen as overbearing by some. To the younger British women an American boyfriend could mean access to better food, cigarettes and black market goods. As a descendant of a British ATS cook and a Welsh soldier it was explained more than once that everyone, both American and British, would use the black market to get goods that were inaccessible otherwise. Nylons, shampoo, perfume, and rationed foods were just some of the more valued items one could buy from their black market contact. I'm sure someone as popular as Sergeant Barnes would find a way to get those things to people he was friends with.

While Steve Rogers recuperated in the infirmary from his fall the others in both the Howling Commandos and the Phantom Patrol were given several days of leave. Some of the married ones spent it on base, taking the opportunity to sleep in and relax, perhaps stopping in at a local pub for a quiet drink. Others spent it in London, making the rounds of the various pubs, starting with the Whip and Fiddle, basking in people recognizing them from the news reels, and buying them drinks. Two of the soldiers, namely Bucky Barnes and Gabe Jones, were invited to attend a dance in the small town near where their units were based.

"Sergeant Barnes," greeted Barbara, a barmaid at the local pub, as she placed a glass of whiskey in front of him. "There's a dance tonight. Some of my girlfriends are going. Perhaps you and Private Jones could show us how you Yanks dance. You both look like you know what you're doing on the dance floor."

Jones looked at Barnes and shrugged. "You don't mind my kind being there?" he asked. Barbara looked blankly at him, as if she didn't know what he was talking about. "I could get into trouble asking a white girl to dance."

"Oh that." She laughed and leaned close to him. "It doesn't bother any of us and I'm sure the Sarge will have your back, won't you?"

"Damn right, I will," replied Bucky. "Come on, Gabe. If I can dance with your girlfriends in a club in Harlem, surely you can dance with Barbara and her friends here if they're okay with it." He smiled at the barmaid. "I've seen him dance and he's almost as good as I am. Are you sure you can keep up with us?"

"You two just show up and maybe bring a couple of your friends," she said. "I wouldn't mind getting that Dum Dum fellow on the dance floor."

"Naw, he's married," replied Bucky. "He's in London, anyways. We'll see who we can round up, but you better make sure there's enough girls for us."

After returning to base, Bucky sent Gabe to round up more guys to back them up, in case there was trouble. He went to see Steve, still confined to the infirmary but at least allowed out of his bed. He found Steve and Peggy sitting side by side at a table, having a coffee together.

"Well, well, well," said Bucky as he sauntered into the room. "You must be feeling better."

"Sergeant," smiled Peggy. "Join us."

"Don't mind if I do," he replied, smirking, as he poured himself a coffee from an urn on the counter. "Just came to see how Steve was doing. How is it going?"

"Pretty good," said Steve. "They figure I hit the water at about 100 miles an hour. Still don't know how I ended floating face up. I should have sunk like a stone."

"You were lucky," replied his friend. "That super soldier serum kept you alive long enough for a navy boat to find you and fish you out. Might not be so fortunate next time."

"Well, it just proves the healing capability of the serum," said Steve. "What have you been doing the last few days?"

"Drinking at the local pub although Gabe and I are going to a dance tonight. Too bad you're still confined to the infirmary. Peggy, you could come."

She looked back at Steve. "I think I'll stay and keep him company. We can put a radio on if we want to dance."

Steve blushed when Bucky pushed him slightly in the arm. Finishing his coffee, the sergeant stood up.

"Well, I'm going to hit the showers and get myself prettied up," he said, then he grinned. "Don't wait up for me."

As he left the infirmary he walked past the lab, nodding his head at the MP. He had only gone a few feet past it when he heard his name being called and turned back, to see Steven Grant partially out the door.

"Would you mind coming inside for a moment?"

"What's up?" asked Bucky, as he approached the open door.

"Just humour me," said Grant.

Following him in he was surprised to see Dr. Waslewski standing with Dr. Erskine and the four soldiers who had been in the cryogenic capsules at the German PoW camp. Erskine was reading from a folder in his hand and looked over his glasses at Bucky as he walked in.

"Ah, Sergeant Barnes," he stated. "I have your file here with the measurements we took of you since your initial treatment by Dr. Zola. There are also the statistics of the weights you lifted, starting from when you first arrived to just before you went on the mission that rescued these four soldiers. Your strength has improved since we started documenting it, yes?"

"Yeah, sure Doc," replied Bucky. "Lt. Hay thinks it might have to do with the better nutrition in the mess hall, since HYDRA didn't exactly feed us well."

"That's true, there is a correlation," he agreed. "But you were still considerably stronger after your initial treatment, is that right?"

"Yeah, I could lift heavier things," said the young sergeant. "On the mission I was able to lift the capsules into the truck and from the truck into the airplane."

Erskine looked triumphantly at Waslewski. "Whatever serum the Germans were using was not the same as HYDRA's," he stated. "It has given these gentlemen some benefits, such as improving their health, and their sensory sensitivity has also increased, but the extra strength just isn't there, at least nothing of note."

"I don't understand," said the woman doctor. "The other doctors insisted that the formula was created from Schmidt's blood, and he was changed by your original formula. Under examination the serum sample we brought seems to be the same. Their blood work shows the same features as Sergeant Barnes, as it should because it was from the same source. It is different from Lieutenant Bradley, which is also different from Captain Rogers and the other individual."

Bucky noted she didn't state that Grant was that individual. Perhaps the four former PoWs hadn't yet been cleared to know his history.

"It proves my initial assessment of the serum," insisted Erskine. "It adapts to the man. These four men ... were they ill? Did they have previous health conditions? Is there something in their genetic makeup that didn't permit the serum to change them completely? Sergeant Barnes admits he was near death, with severe malnutrition, serious physical injuries, and pneumonia. The serum cured him first then began to change him. Corporal Bradley said they were not treated well at their camp when he was given the serum, and he was the only one who survived. Captain Rogers was a small, sickly man and the serum cured him of his physical ills before changing him."

She looked at the four men and shook her head. "No, these men were all physically fit, considering the circumstances. Many of them were pilots and Göring was adamant that pilots be treated as officers and gentlemen in their imprisonment. They were fed as well as the staff, were not forced to work and were encouraged to keep their bodies and minds fit." She looked perturbed. "All of those men who didn't survive the treatments were sacrificed for nothing; and I was part of it."

"Doctor Waslewski, we knew you weren't there willingly," said one of the pilots, Grady, if Bucky recalled the name on the capsule correctly. "We know you tried your best to keep us all alive and as safe as you could. Even for the freezing part we knew that you tried to talk those other doctors into not using it. It's not your fault."

"Perhaps," she admitted, "but I still bear shame for my part. I hoped so much that once we got you here it would be evident that you could help the Special Agent and Captain America in their fight against HYDRA."

"We still can, right?" Grady looked at Grant. "We have some of the abilities and maybe if Dr. Erskine perfects his serum, we can take his to give us the rest. Just from this mission alone it's obvious you could use some pilots on your teams. You would be better prepared for SNAFUs when your options change."

"I'll bring it up with the General," said Grant. "I promise." He turned to Bucky. "I heard something about a dance in town. Perhaps you can help these guys find some uniforms to wear and take them with you. What do you think, Doc? Can these guys have a night away from all the poking and prodding, let their hair down?"

"Ja, absolutely," smiled Erskine. "Sergeant, if you could get them ... what is the term ... squared away? I think a night out dancing and relaxing is just the thing. They are well enough to stay in the barracks with the other men."

"Sure, come with me," said Bucky, leading the others out.

After showing them where the quartermaster was and vouching for them, he waited while they gathered their clothing and shaving kit, then brought them to the barracks, showing them some empty bunks. Gabe was already getting ready and although they eyed him briefly no one said anything about him being in the same barracks hut. Bucky filled them in immediately.

"He's part of the team who rescued you guys. Corporal Bradley is also black. Private Morita is Japanese American. We picked the best men for the job, and we back them up, all the time. If you have a problem with that you won't be on either team. I can guarantee that."

Their silence was interpreted to be acceptance and Bucky hit the showers, coming out with a towel wrapped around his waist. He shaved at the sink, noticing Grady studying his own face.

"Your beard grew in faster?" he asked. Grady nodded. "That's a serum thing. Your hair will need cutting more as well."

"Why is it we only got partial benefits of the serum?" asked the pilot.

"Dr. Erskine is of the opinion that every man reacts differently to it," answered Bucky as he slid the razor down his cheek. "Cap's reaction was probably the most extensive, but he did get a large dose of radiation to boost it. He grew almost a foot in height and added about 140 pounds in muscle. It also increased his reflexes, sense of smell, sight, and hearing. The only bad part about it is no super soldier can get drunk. Wish it were otherwise, but the increased metabolism apparently burns the alcohol out before it can affect you."

"You knew him before?" asked Grady.

"Since we were kids. He had asthma, stomach issues, caught every illness floating around except polio, which is a miracle in itself, but he had one important thing always going for him." He glanced at the pilot. "Faith and I'm not talking about religion. He believed in doing the right thing all the time, standing up for himself even against the odds. That's another reason why Erskine thought the serum worked perfectly for Steve ... Cap. It made the good inside of him better. Those German soldiers they were going to give the serum to ... if they were already typical Nazis, it would make them worse, bring out the evil in them. Although, if they were just ordinary conscripts with a conscience, it might be a different matter."

Bucky took the last few swipes with his razor, then felt with his fingertips for any spots that he missed. Satisfied, he rinsed the remaining shave cream off of his face, dried it, and applied some aftershave to his face, patting his cheeks after. With a grin, he leaned closer to Grady.

"There is another benefit to the serum that the good doctor likely hasn't told you about." He kept his voice low, looking to see if anyone was nearby. "You'll get it up faster, keep it up longer, and be ready to go again quicker. For a little while I thought I lost it after I got turned down by a certain lady. She was already engaged and didn't want to mess with that. But since then, let's just say I've never felt better, if you know what I mean. I had no issues before the war; with the serum I make that guy look like a schoolboy."

He patted Grady on the back and picked up his shaving kit and clothes. Sorting out his soiled clothes he put them in a laundry bag with his ID on it and reminded himself to drop it off at the laundry before he went to the dance. Opening his footlocker he found clean underwear, slipping them on. From his upright locker, he pulled out a dress shirt, doing up the buttons, then put some clean socks on, followed by his trousers. Tucking the shirt in, he tightened the belt, then slipped his dress shoes on. His watch came next then he took his tie with him to the bathroom mirror and put it on, making sure it looked crisp against his clean dress shirt. Returning to his locker he put his dress jacket on next, making sure he had all of his insignias and badges on, and the belt adjusted properly. Most of them didn't matter much to him except for his sniper's badge, sergeant's insignia, and the newest, a Howling Commandos patch, but the ladies sure liked them.

"Hey, I'm headed to the laundry, if any of you have some to drop off," he announced.

Gabe tossed him his bag, and two more were thrown at his feet. Picking them up he took them over to the laundry building. Stepping inside he saw that Mrs. Watkins was taking in the bags of dirty laundry. The older lady smiled at him.

"Sergeant Barnes," she said. "We missed you the other day. You promised you would get us some tinned fruit."

"I did and I'm sorry I didn't come through," he said, putting the four bags on the counter. "I'll tell you what. I'll go over to the commissary right now and pick up a couple of large tins, just for you, sweetheart."

"Stop it, I'm a married woman and old enough to be your ..."

"Older sister," he interrupted. "I still don't believe that you have a son in the British Army. Not with those dimples."

The older woman blushed. "You do know how to make a woman feel young," she replied. "Go on then. Get those tins and I'll write up these laundry tickets."

"You're a doll, Mrs. Watkins," he grinned. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Heading over to the commissary he looked to see which of the ATS cooks were on duty. The Auxiliary Territorial Service was the women's branch of the British Army. Most of its members were cooks, clerks and storekeepers although Bucky heard that some were being trained to join the anti-aircraft batteries as part of some mixed crews, and in the searchlight crews that lit up incoming enemy aircraft during air raids. He was pleased to see that one of his regular girlfriends, Vera, was on duty. Picking up a paper napkin from the dispenser he tore a strip off of it, rolled it up into a little ball and aimed it at the blonde. When it hit her, she frowned then looked around at who would do such a thing. Once she saw him, she grinned and jerked her head around to the back.

"I'm taking a smoke break!"

Her sergeant acknowledged it and Vera slipped through the back of the structure, coming out to find Bucky waiting for her with a package of cigarettes.

"Oh, love," she cooed. "Are those for me?"

"Absolutely, doll," he replied. "Just got back the other day from ... well I can't tell you where I was because it's classified."

He put two cigarettes in between his lips and lit them, handing her one, then tucking the almost full package into a pocket in her apron. She took a long drag and closed her eyes as she inhaled the smoke then let it languidly out. A tendril of hair had worked its way out of her hair net and Bucky gently tucked it back in.

"I missed you baby," he murmured. "Thought about you."

"No, you didn't," she replied. "I know you have other girlfriends, and I really don't mind. You made it very clear that what we have is just a bit of fun. I'm not complaining. What do you want?"

"See, this is what I like about you, Vera," smiled Bucky. "You know a guy like me has all sorts of obligations. I kind of promised someone a couple of large tins of fruit. She did a favour for me." Vera raised her eyebrows at him. "Not that kind of favour. She reminds me of my mother, treats me like her son who's in the British Army. Now those cigarettes are for you, and I just might be able to find some black-market nylons, if you can help me with this obligation."

"I don't know, Bucky," said the dark-eyed blonde. "They're cracking down on pilfering. I heard one of the storekeepers got canned for taking a tin of meat for her mam. I need this job. My sister just found out she's expecting, and it won't be long before she's let go from the factory."

"How about if I distract your sergeant and you just liberate a couple of the tins, put them outside the door here? Then you go back to your station, I take several more minutes to make sure you're in the clear, then come back and grab the tins. Better yet, if you do get into trouble, I'll vouch for you. Being a Howling Commando has its advantages."

"You'll lose your rank," she stated. "I don't want that."

"Never wanted to be a sergeant," he answered. "Hate the responsibility. Come on, Vera. Help a soldier out. Next time we're on a date I'll do that thing you like." He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, making her giggle. "You know you like that."

"Alright, go on with you," she said. "You distract the old biddy and I'll get your tins, just two. Any more is pushing it."

Grasping her face in his hands Bucky kissed her deeply then pulled away. "That's a down payment on our date," he smiled. "I owe you, doll."

She pushed him away, shaking her head at his audacity. Returning to the front of the service area he saw the sergeant haranguing one of the other cooks. Stubbing his cigarette out he walked close to where the grey-haired woman was and waited politely. When she finished criticizing the cook, he cleared his throat.

"Excuse me, Sergeant?" he asked politely.

She turned to look at him, frowning at first. "What is it, Sergeant?" she asked. "I'm a little busy here."

"Yes, Ma'am, I can see that," he said. "I need your help and Major Farnsworth, one of my fellow Howling Commandos, said it was something that you would be able to assist me with."

"The Major said that?" Her face brightened. Bucky was glad he had interpreted her longing glances at the British Major correctly. "What can I help you with?"

"Well, Ma'am." He hesitated. "No, perhaps I shouldn't ask, as the ingredients would be too difficult to acquire."

"Why don't you let me determine that," she replied, firmly.

"Well, the General apparently had a British mother and he said she made a Bakewell something with a cherry on it. What was it again?"

He put on his best thinking face. "Cherry Bakewell?" She looked at him inquisitively.

"Yes, that's it!" he smiled. "Would you be able to make him a cherry Bakewell? I think's it close to the date where his mother passed away, God rest her soul, and I thought seeing something that he had such fond memories of would help him feel better."

"That's a lovely sentiment, Sergeant but that recipe requires flour, ground almonds, egg, butter, sugar ... I just couldn't justify the cost of it, not even for the General. I'm not even sure I could find some of the ingredients, not when there's a war on."

He noticed Vera coming back to her station, giving him a big smile. Putting a look of disappointment on his face he nodded sagely at the older woman.

"Well, thank you anyways," he said. "By the way Major Farnsworth described one, it sounds like quite the treat. Perhaps someday, when the ingredients are more available we could see about it. I appreciate your honesty."

She nodded at him and he tipped his cap to her then winked at Vera on his way outside. Slipping to the back he found the two large tins, and scooped them up, quickly heading back to the laundry. When Mrs. Watkins saw him approaching, she gave him a big smile.

"There you go," he said, handing her the two tins. "Mind you don't flash them about. I wouldn't want any of my other girlfriends around here to think I have a favourite."

"Go on with you, you're such a flirt," blushed Mrs. Watkins. "I know the drill. Here's your tickets, love. They'll be ready the day after tomorrow."

"You're a real cracker," grinned Bucky, tipping his cap and picking up the laundry tickets.

On the way back he stopped at the command tent to see if any mail had arrived and grabbed a stack of letters. By the time he got back to the barracks nearly everyone who was going to dance was ready. He handed out the other laundry tickets to those who gave him their bags then distributed the mail. With that task done and before they left, he made sure everyone going had everything they needed, including condoms, money, and cigarettes. With complaints they were going to miss the bus the assorted men walked to the gates of the base and waited for the local bus that headed into the nearby town.

When it arrived, they clambered on. As ladies got on, they offered their seats to them, chatting to them when they learned the ladies were also headed to the dance. Some of the older folk rolled their eyes at the confidence of the American soldiers and as they got off near the dance hall Bucky heard one older gentleman mutter.

"Look at them Yanks; overpaid, oversexed, and over here."

He grinned at the oversexed part, knowing it was true for him, at least. Not that he would ever force a woman, but he would sure spend time convincing a willing girl that he was worth having fun with. The chase was part of the fun, and he didn't always care if the girl put out or not. If she did, he would make sure she enjoyed the encounter. If she didn't, he wouldn't worry about it. A line was already at the dance hall as he joined it and pulled out his cigarettes to light one up. A woman's hand took it from his and put it between her lips. Turning to look he smiled.

"Barbara, you made it," he said, lighting the cigarette up for her then lighting one up for him. He looked past her. "Bring a date? Did you bring friends?" He gestured to the other soldiers around him. "I brought mine."

She looked at all of the men, some of them eyeing her back. "Well done, Sarge," she answered, as she blew out some smoke. "I brought friends. I want the first dance with you."

"Absolutely, doll," he smiled. "Is your flatmate home?" She shook her head and smiled, taking another drag of her cigarette. "I guess that means we'll have the last dance together, yeah?"

She didn't answer but did link her arm with his and they stepped forward as the line grew shorter. When they finally got inside the hall Bucky went to the bar and got himself a scotch and Barbara a gin and tonic. They sipped it as Gabe and several other soldiers from the base joined them. A friend of Barbara's also came over, giving Gabe a good look.

"Looks like the band is about to start," said Bucky, as they put their drinks on a railing beside the wall. "Come on Babs, I'll show you how a boy from Brooklyn dances."

As G.I. Jive began Bucky got into the swing of things, then noticed Gabe beside him with Barbara's friend. The two men grinned at each other as they each showed their moves to their dance partners. For the next several dances the two men danced with the same girls then Gabe finally indicated he needed a break and saluted Bucky, before pulling Celeste, his dance partner, off the dance floor. They both had some of their drinks as Bucky stayed out for one more dance before he and Barbara finally took a break, returning to their drinks.

"Well, doll?" asked Bucky. "How was that?"

"Not bad," she replied, coolly. Bucky almost did a spit take which she laughed at. "Alright, Bucky, it was pretty good. You're very light on your feet and know what you're doing."

A slow song came up and she put her drink down, putting her hand out to Bucky. With a grin he spun her out to the dance floor then pulled her close, as The Man I Love played. Bending his head down to hers he breathed in her hair, appreciating that she had washed it for tonight. With all of the rationing going on he knew that shampoo was almost non-existent, meaning she used some of her meagre ration of bar soap to do the job. He wondered if he could find some black-market shampoo for her.

"Your hair smells great," he murmured. "You look good, too. Should have said it when you found me in the line."

"You're saying it now," replied Barbara, then she looked up at him. "I'm glad you made it. You're always fun, Bucky."

He smiled and kissed her lightly on the shell of her ear. Even though several other girls gave him the eye he decided to stick with Barbara for the evening. She was a good egg and like Vera, knew he wasn't looking for love, just a bit of fun. Looking at the other dancers he was happy to see that all of the men that came from their base had dance partners. When the band took a break, he and several others lined up at the kitchen window, ordering fish and chips as well as bags of crisps to munch on. There was a lot of laughter during the short break as people hurried to eat before the dancing started up again. As they headed out onto the dance floor several women from the kitchen came out with trays, clearing the debris left from the food, as well as picking up empty glasses. After several hours the last call for drinks was made and couples began leaving. Bucky noticed Gabe leaving with Celeste then turned to Barbara and put his arm around her.

"What do you say, should we head out?" he asked.

"Alright," she replied. "You'll walk me home?"

He nodded, drained the rest of his drink and stopped to pick up his cap at the hat check. They headed out into the night and Barbara reached into her handbag for her flashlight, dimmed down so that it was just bright enough to light their path. Ten minutes later Barbara slowed up in front of a row house. Bucky ran his hands down her arms, then around her waist and kissed her, pulling her close to his body. She kissed him back then kept her face close to his.

"Are you coming up?" she asked.

"If you want," he replied. "Am I staying?"

He could see her smile in the dark. "If you want."

Slowly she pulled herself away and took her key out, then opened the door to the building. Following her inside, they quietly made their way up the stairs to the third floor and she unlocked her door. Before she could turn on a light Bucky pulled her into his arms and kissed her, hard. She whimpered slightly, then pulled him to her bedroom, closing the door behind her, knowing that the best part of inviting Sergeant Bucky Barnes into your bed was that he would make a girl feel like she was the most important thing in the world for the next few hours. After he left, it was certain that he wouldn't blab about it to anyone. He would keep a ladies' reputation intact and if she ever found a fellow that wanted to marry her, would be the first one to offer congratulations, saying the fellow was a lucky man. More importantly, he would mean it. One thing that all of the women in his life hoped for Sergeant Barnes was that someday he would find the right woman who would make him a lucky man. Certainly, she would be a lucky woman.