Chapter 8. Surprises
While Peter showed Winter the compound, Noelle started preparing dinner, deciding to keep it simple with spaghetti Bolognese, salad, and garlic bread. As Winnie sat at the kitchen table colouring, Noelle started chopping the onion, carrot, and celery, then mincing the garlic. She began browning the vegetables in olive oil then added the ground beef and pork mixture to it, stirring to break up the lumps. Once it was nicely browned and she spooned off the fat, she added a mixture of beef broth and red wine, cooking it for about 10 minutes, then added some milk, simmering it for another 10 minutes. Finally, she added the tomato paste, a can of tomatoes that she broke up before pouring the contents in, some Italian seasoning, and a bay leaf. Covering the pot, she left it to simmer for 30 minutes.
"Noelle, Sam Wilson is at the door," said Friday. "Shall I admit him?"
"Yes," she replied, answering him as he called out to her. "In the kitchen."
"Smells good," he said, as he came around the corner. "Bolognese sauce. You expecting company?"
"Winter and Peter," she said. "They're going to share an apartment together, so I invited them for dinner."
He noticed Winnie colouring at the table, smiling fondly at her.
"I see." His voice seemed suspiciously neutral. "You're okay with that?"
"I'm fine," she replied in a low voice. "She saw him in the hallway. It went well. He seems to have feelings for her."
Sam didn't look entirely convinced.
"He's nice," said Winnie, looking up from her colouring. "It's okay, Uncle Sam. Papa Winter is good."
"I keep forgetting she can hear as well as her daddy," said Sam, grinning. "I'm just being careful, baby girl." She beamed at him. "What are you drawing?"
"A card for Papa Winter," she explained, as he came over. There were three stick figures. She pointed to two of them. "That one's Papa and this one is Papa Winter."
"Who's in the middle?" he asked.
"You!" She giggled. "I still gots to draw your shield. You're all wearing your suits."
"So, my suit is white and blue, and your dad's is black and blue," said Sam. "Why is Winter's suit black with a grey arm?"
"Coz, he wore black when he was the Soljur," she explained. "But his arm was shiny."
Sam felt a sudden flash of heat in his cheeks at Winnie's words and looked up at Noelle, who shook her head at his unasked question.
"Who said Winter was the Soldier?" he asked carefully.
"I sawed it on TV," she replied, as she began to draw his shield. "They said Papa used to be the Winter Soljur who was bad, then when he gots a new arm that was black he was good. When Mama said Papa got hurt and thought he was Winter I knowed he wasn't bad anymore. He's good like Papa but he's Papa Winter."
He placed his hand on her head and stroked her hair, smiling kindly at her. "Out of the mouths of babes," he stated. He left her to continue colouring and came over to Noelle. "The next time I express doubts about telling Paul about something serious, remind me of this moment."
"Tell me about it," said Noelle, chopping some vegetables to add to the salad. "I was so worried about confusing her, but it seems she accepted him right from the start. It will be okay, Sam."
Friday interrupted them. "Winter and Peter Parker are at the door requesting admittance. Shall I let them enter?"
"Yes," said Noelle.
"Well, I guess I'll get home," replied Sam.
He went towards the door as the two men entered the kitchen, acknowledging each other as they passed.
"Peter! Papa Winter!" Winnie cried out and slipped off the chair, running to Peter first and hugging his knees then looking up at him.
"How are you?" he replied with a smile.
"Good, I drawed a picture for Papa Winter," she said. "I can make one for you, too."
"I'd like that," he smiled, then he looked at Noelle. "Can I help you?"
"Sure, could you mash some garlic for the garlic bread?" she asked. "Winter, why don't you sit with Winnie so she can explain her picture to you?"
Winnie took his hand and pulled him to the table, waiting for him to sit before she raised her hands to him. He stared blankly at her for a moment then at Noelle.
"She wants to sit on your lap," she stated, then added when she saw he seemed hesitant. "It's okay. She trusts you."
Gently, he picked her up and watched her intently as she settled herself on his lap. Then she pulled the picture closer.
"I gots to finish it, but this is you," she said, pointing to the stick figure in black with a grey arm then to Sam's figure. "This is Uncle Sam. I gots to draw his shield and this is Papa."
"There are three people," he said.
"I know, but this is you when you were the Winter Soljur," she said. "I sawed you on TV."
He went quiet, looking intently at the picture. Both Noelle and Peter watched him as they continued preparing dinner.
"I'm not the Soldier anymore," he finally said.
"I know, you're Papa Winter now," said Winnie breezily. "You're good. But you're different than Papa so I had to draw you different. Can you help me draw Uncle Sam's shield?"
"Yes."
He guided her hand as she drew a circle, then helped her colour in the different sections before drawing a star in the middle for her which she coloured in. Next, he guided her hand as she wrote his name. When she finished, she looked at the picture and pouted a little.
"What's wrong?" Winter asked.
"There's no room to put Uncle Sam's name or Papa's name."
"I know who they are." His voice was calm. "Is there room to draw you?"
She looked up at him from his lap.
"You want a picture of me?" He nodded. "Okay."
Carefully she drew a little stick figure, adding yellow strands of hair to show it was her. When she finished, she gave out a little huff of air and put the yellow crayon down. She picked up the black crayon then looked at him.
"Are you going to grow your hair long?"
"I don't know." He looked at the paper for a long time. "Do you want to draw long hair on me?"
"No," she laughed. "You have short hair, now." She tilted her head so she could see his face, looking intently at him. "I'll draw another if you grow your hair, okay?"
He nodded, then looked at the picture as if it was the most precious thing he had ever received. "Thank you."
"Welcome," she said, then she looked at Peter. "I'll make your picture after supper, okay?"
"Sure, Pooh Bear," smiled Peter, mashing the garlic with butter and seasoning. "I'll have to get a magnet to put it on the fridge." Winter looked at the young Avenger, unsure about the nickname for Winnie or the magnet reference. "Pooh Bear is for Winnie-the-Pooh, one of Winnie's favourite stories, I believe. The magnet is to hold the picture up on the fridge door. That's where works of art go and a Winnie Barnes original is a work of art."
"I can put this on the refrigerator; it's allowed?"
"You can put it wherever you want, Winter," stated Noelle, as she filled up the large pot with water for the pasta. "You have a choice."
"I never had choice," he murmured. "Except to ..." He stopped, not wanting to say what he did to protect Bucky in front of Winnie. "What Barnes chose once we escaped was acceptable."
Suddenly, he put Winnie down and looked around anxiously. Both Noelle and Peter started towards him, but Winnie watched him carefully for a moment then put her small hand in his.
"It's okay, Papa Winter," she crooned. "Are you afraid?"
"Yes. Sometimes, I feel like I want to run away."
"You can cry if you want to," she suggested. "Sometimes, it feels better after you cry. When Papa cries, I hold his hand."
"Barnes ... your Papa cries?"
"Uh huh. Sometimes, he 'members when he did bad things, and he feels sad. I hear him at the nighttime and come out to sit with him. Do you want to sit with me?"
Noelle turned away, feeling her own tears threatening to overwhelm her. Peter smiled grimly at her, but continued to watch what was happening between Winnie and Winter. The former soldier nodded his head and allowed the little girl to lead him to the couch. She waited for him to sit then climbed up beside him and took his left hand in hers, patting it gently.
"I didn't know," whispered Noelle. "He never woke me; using his stealth skills, I guess." She turned to look at her daughter and Winter. "She's so compassionate. No wonder Winter already loves her. Bucky adores her."
"He adores you, too," murmured Peter. "We're going to find him, Noelle. I promise."
She turned her attention to the food, placing the pasta in the boiling water. Peter spread the butter mixture over the slices of garlic bread and slipped the baking sheet into the oven. While Noelle tossed the salad, he set the table. Within a few minutes, it was all ready and Noelle called the other two to the table. She brought out a booster seat for Winnie, then poured her some milk. While she drained the pasta and put it on a serving platter, Peter took the garlic bread out and placed the slices on a plate, setting it down on the table. Taking some pasta from the drained amount, Noelle cut it up, transferring it to a bowl, then spooned some sauce over it, mixing it well and placing it in front of Winnie. She poured the sauce over the pasta and used tongs to mix it together. The platter was placed in the middle of the table, along with the salad, and dressings.
"Go ahead and serve yourself, Winter," she said kindly. "Bucky usually takes a big portion of the pasta so that it covers half of his plate, then of the plate with salad, and two slices of garlic bread. If you're still hungry after that, you can take more. There's more than enough for everyone."
He grabbed the tongs and clumsily lifted up a sizeable portion, transferring it to his plate, making sure it filled half of the space. Placing the tongs back he helped himself to salad, then garlic bread, waiting while she and Peter served themselves. Watching how Noelle twirled the spaghetti onto her fork before lifting it to her mouth, Winter did the same and placed it on his tongue. His eyes grew large at the incredible taste, and he chewed it thoroughly, enjoying it.
"This is much better than the food from the kitchen," he stated. "What is this called?"
"Spaghetti Bolognese, basically a meat and tomato sauce," replied Noelle. "Try the garlic bread."
He picked up a piece and bit into it, then took several more bites. With his mouth full he looked at Peter.
"You made this. It's good."
"Yeah, it's easy," smiled Peter. "We can have this meal at our place whenever you want. I can show you how."
"You would teach me to cook?" Winter blinked his eyes several times, as he swallowed down the food. "I would like that very much."
With gusto, Winter ate everything on his plate, then took a second helping of all of it, eating it up. He looked very content when he finished. Noticing how Peter motioned with his eyes as he picked up the plates, Winter mimicked him, taking the plates to the counter. Opening the dishwasher, the younger man began to place the dishes inside. Watching him carefully, to see if there was a specific order to placing the dishes, Winter copied his actions. By that time, Noelle had cleaned Winnie's face and hands then helped her off of her booster seat. She came into the kitchen to put the small amounts of leftovers into containers. Winter watched as she ran water in the sink, adding detergent for the pots and fry pan.
"We can handle that if you want to get Winnie dressed for bed," said Peter, noticing the time. With a smile, she led her daughter to her bedroom and the younger man looked at Winter. "If you're eating at a friend's house, it's considered polite to clean up for them. It's also a way to show your appreciation for the good food. You wash the pots and I'll dry them."
"It was very good," agreed Winter, as he cleaned the serving utensils. "What else can you cook?"
"Pizza, soup, stir fry, pasta, sandwiches, and if I get really ambitious, I can bake a cake. Noelle is a very good cook. You didn't have memories of Bucky eating her food?"
"I often retreated during mealtimes," said the dark-haired man. "Part of it was so I was rested enough to be on alert during the night, standing guard. I needed to be rested to be at my best."
"Was it like that on missions, as well?"
"Yes, that has been my purpose since we escaped HYDRA. I protect Barnes and those he cares about. He cares for Noelle, Winnie and all of the Avengers. He promises to himself to bring everyone home. I promise to bring him and everyone else as well. I failed this time."
"It wasn't your fault," said Peter. "You didn't know the shadow being was there. Perhaps, they're allowing you to stay in contact with him so that you know he's still alive. As long as he's alive, there's a chance to complete your mission and bring him home."
Winter stopped washing the pot he was holding and regarded Peter for several moments.
"I didn't think of it that way," he said. "It is a reasonable conclusion, Peter Parker. Unfortunately, if he is in their universe, it's temperature seems to be uniformly near absolute zero. We would be unable to function in that environment, unless we were able to build a device to travel there."
Peter kept drying the pot he held then stopped, a look of concentration on his face. Winter stopped washing and studied Peter.
"Is everything alright?" he asked.
"Yeah, just some thoughts," said the young Avenger, putting the dried pot on the kitchen island. "Our universe's baseline temperature is almost absolute zero, with the lowest known recorded temperature being about 2.7 degrees K, which is about -455 degrees F. Absolute zero is 0 K, or -459.67 F. Around a heat source, such as a star or an active star nursery it's warmer. The corona of a star can be several million degrees K. We have manned space craft that have gone to the moon and that orbits the earth, unmanned space craft that have left the solar system. The Guardians of the Galaxy regularly go to other solar systems in different parts of the galaxy, so their space craft can withstand the temperature extremes. If we could get an idea of the temperature range in that environment where Bucky is, there's no reason we can't go get him, except that they changed his corporeal form to their shadowy form. Then we need to find out a way to transform him back. We have Dr. Banner, Shuri, Thor, Tony Stark, Dr. Strange, me... and I'm sure the Guardians will help if we ask them, to figure it out. Carol can probably go there without a space craft. That beam, though. We need to figure out a way to protect ourselves from it." He realized he was verbally spewing out random thoughts and ideas when he saw Winter looking at him with a puzzled expression. "Sorry, I tend to get really excited at the scientific possibilities of things."
"What things?" asked Noelle, who returned with Winnie in her pyjamas while holding a book in her hand. The little girl sat at the kitchen table and started making a card for Peter. "What are you talking about?"
"Well, just that we should be able to figure out a way to get to where Bucky is," said Peter. He looked at Winnie, not wanting to say anything more around her. "Let me talk to the others and see if we can start brainstorming solutions to certain issues."
They all turned to where Winnie was busy drawing two stick figures on a piece of construction paper. One of them was red and blue and had white lines shooting from its hands.
"Winnie wants to make your card and then she wants Winter to read to her," announced Noelle.
"What should I read?" he asked.
"Her favourite, Winnie-the-Pooh," she replied, handing him the book. "You might as well get familiar with it, as Winnie likes it when Bucky does the voices."
"Voices?" He looked at the book. "I don't know how to do voices."
"Does Bucky do the voices from the movie?" asked Peter, trying not to grin.
"He does," smiled Noelle, "because he loves his daughter and would do just about anything for her." She leaned towards Peter. "I think she expects you to help."
His grin disappeared. Before he could lodge a refusal Winnie joined the conversation.
"Peter, help me write Spider-Man," she demanded, her blue eyes full of expectation.
Placing his hand over hers he guided the letters, then stood back while she added some flowers to the picture.
"There, done," she announced, before focusing her attention on Winter. "Can you read me Winnie-the-Pooh?"
Swallowing, the super soldier nodded and watched as the little girl got off the kitchen chair and came over to grasp his hand, pulling him into the living room, where she stopped in front of a large armchair. She waited as he sat in it, then put her arms up for him to lift her onto his lap.
"I've never read a story before," said Winter. "I don't know the voices."
"That's okay," she smiled. "You just try your best."
She burrowed further into him, laying her head against his chest as he opened the book. Clearing his throat, he looked at the title page.
"Winnie-the-Pooh, by A.A. Milne," he began. "With decorations by Ernest H. Shepard." There were several pages of illustrations that Winnie looked at intently before they came to the Contents page. "Contents."
"You don't have to read that part," said Winnie, quickly, reaching out with her small hand and turning the page to Chapter 1. "There, start there."
His eyes met Noelle's, expecting to see anger but all he saw was kindness and understanding, as if she knew he wouldn't be very good at this, but it didn't matter. He suddenly understood that it wasn't about being good at reading a book to Winnie, it was about being with her, as part of a ritual she loved sharing with her father. With a deep breath he began again.
"Chapter 1, In which we are introduced to Winnie-the-Pooh and some bees, and the story begins. Here is Edward Bear, coming downstairs now, bump, bump, bump, on the back of his head, behind Christopher Robin."
As he continued reading, Winter was struck at how relaxed Winnie was with him. Although her focus was on the illustrations, she would look up at him from time to time, watching his face, especially when he tried to change his voice for Winnie. A smile from her confirmed her approval of his approach, which gave him confidence. By the time he was finished with Chapter 1, he was engaged in the story, and felt just as disappointed as Winnie was to stop there.
"Mama, can Papa Winter come over tomorrow to read to me?" she asked.
"I think you should ask Winter that, sweet pea," replied Noelle.
Turning her blue eyes on the stoic man Winnie asked again, bringing a ghost of a smile to his face.
"Yes, I would like to read more to you," he replied. "It is time for bed now, isn't it?"
Winnie nodded her head, sliding off of his lap and taking his hand in hers once again, leading him to her room. He looked at Noelle, briefly, wondering if she would intervene but she followed them and stood in the doorway with Peter, as Winnie got under the covers.
"Papa always brings the covers up to my chin," said the little girl, waiting for Winter to do her father's part. "Then he kisses me here." She put her finger on her forehead, expecting him to kiss her there. "Then he says good night, sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite."
He made sure the covers were pulled up to her chin, kissed her on the forehead, then looked at her fondly.
"Good night, sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite," he whispered.
"Good night, Papa Winter," she smiled, then looked to her mother, who approached to perform her own part of the bedtime ritual, before looking past her. "Good night, Peter."
He smiled from the doorway. "Good night, Winnie," he replied, then turned away, motioning for Winter to leave so Noelle could finish up. He looked up at the super soldier in the hallway. "You did good. You're a natural."
"I was afraid of making a mistake," admitted Winter, looking back towards the bedroom. "Do all parents do that with their children?"
"The good ones do," answered Peter, not saying anything more, as he wanted the man to feel good about what happened. "There's a cute movie about Winnie-the-Pooh that we could watch. It would help you get an idea of the voices. I'm pretty sure Winnie has seen it several times."
"I would like that."
Both men turned as Noelle came out of the bedroom, walking with her to the living room. They picked up their cards, and Winter followed Peter's example in thanking her for dinner. She invited them both for dinner the next evening.
"I'm doing an online study session with Ned and MJ tomorrow," said Peter, "so I'll take a rain check."
"I may come again?" asked Winter.
"Of course, you're always welcome to stop by," she replied. "You don't need an invitation. Winter, you did good tonight. You made Winnie very happy."
She walked them both to the door, seeing them off. For the next half hour, she straightened up then checked on Winnie again, confirming she was asleep. Turning all the lights off, she went to her bedroom, undressing then washing her face, and performed her own nighttime ritual of moisturizing, brushing her teeth and hair. After putting her pyjamas on she sat in the bed, with her back against the headboard, and brought the tablet up, going to the photo gallery. After several moments of gazing at the pictures of her, Bucky, and Winnie, she laid the device aside and turned off the light, then began to cry. It was some time before she fell asleep.
--
They were in the jazz club where they met. It was while they danced for the first time and were still kissing, a kiss that was like nothing Noelle ever experienced in her life. It was exhilarating and intimidating at the same time. The next song came on and she felt his smile on her lips at the opening line of "If I Take You Home Tonight."
If I take you home tonight, I will think of songs to sing to you.
"Oh darling," Bucky murmured, as he swayed to the music, expertly moving their bodies as one. "This is meant to be. You and me, on this dance floor, right here and now. I'm supposed to leave tomorrow but I want to stay with you, starting from this moment on." He looked at her again, almost as if he was seeing right into her soul. "I don't want to pressure you into doing anything that makes you uncomfortable. You tell me to stop, and I'll stop. Please don't tell me to stop. Someday I want to tell our kids about the magic that let us find each other on the dance floor of a New York jazz club that I used to go to in the 1930s but had to wait another 80-90 years to find you."
"I don't want to take you home," said Noelle, making him frown. "But I do want to spend the night with you. Then we'll go from there. I just got out of a bad marriage, so you'll have to give me this bit of control to protect myself." She looked at Bucky almost defiantly as he nodded his agreement. "Say it."
A smile creased his face then he became serious. "You have control. We'll spend the night together and go from there. I'll tell my friend we're staying at the hotel. You tell your friends the same, so they know you're with me. I meant what I said. I think we're supposed to be together."
He caressed her face, then went to the table he shared with Sam, advising him that he was leaving with the blonde woman, Noelle. As he left some cash to cover his part of the bill, Sam smiled when she came to the table and offered her hand.
"My friends, Maddie and Cara, said you're welcome to join them as long as you don't hit on them as they're both married," said Noelle.
He looked past her to where the other two women were waving.
"I'll be a gentleman," he replied, then looked at Bucky. "You be a gentleman."
"Always," smiled the super soldier, who looked at her. "Ready?"
She nodded and he took her hand, leading her around the edge of the dance floor and out through the small lobby of the club, to the doors. He opened them, allowing her to exit first, then they both went to the curb where he whistled at a cab, raising his hand. When it pulled up, Bucky opened the back door, offering his hand to help Noelle inside. Then he strode to the other side of the taxi and got in, giving the driver the name of his hotel.
In the taxi, they held hands, with Bucky making a circle with his thumb on the back of her hand. They didn't speak but they didn't have to. As they passed a 24-hour drug store Bucky suddenly asked the driver to stop and wait, giving him a twenty-dollar bill not to take another passenger. He helped her out.
"I need some things," he said to her, as they walked inside. "If you need anything, like facial products, we should get it before we get to the hotel. I want you to be comfortable."
That was a first for Noelle. Certainly, the first time she ever slept with Mark he hadn't even asked if she was on birth control. Her surprise must have shown on her face because Bucky stopped to face her, holding both of her hands in his.
"I haven't been with anyone for a long time," he said. "But I've done my homework. Even though I'm healthy and likely immune to every disease known to man, I want you to trust me. So, we'll use condoms, regardless of whether you're on birth control or not. I want you to stay the night, so in the morning, whatever you need to feel refreshed is there for you; cleanser, moisturizer, anything."
She swallowed. "I'm not very experienced. Other than my husband, now my ex-husband, I've only been with about four different men, two of them one-night stands. None of them ever offered this to me. You're from a time where men were supposed to be more condescending to women, yet you've been the most respectful. It's unexpected."
"I wasn't much different from them when I was younger," admitted Bucky. "But I'm a different man than I was then. You can say no anytime, and I'll respect that."
She left him to find what she needed as he went to the family planning aisle. They met together at the cash register and Bucky paid for everything, then they went back out into the night, getting back in the taxi. When they arrived at the hotel, the doorman opened the taxi door, extending a hand to Noelle as she stepped out, while greeting Bucky as Mr. Barnes. Offering her his arm Bucky stepped inside the hotel.
Despite heads turning as they passed Noelle didn't feel like she was on display, because the looks were for Bucky. The events of the Flag Smashers were still recent enough that his face was on the news most nights. They weren't alone in the elevator, but it was obvious that if they had been, something would have happened. The heat coming off of Bucky's body was evident, radiating from him in intense waves of desire. By the time they reached his room, his eyes were dark, the pupils so large that only a thin rim of blue lined them. He pulled his keycard out of his wallet then turned to her, cupping her face with his large hand.
"You can say no at any time," he rasped. "It's just been so long since I felt like this, that I don't want to scare you."
"I am scared," admitted Noelle. "Scared that I'll be a disappointment. My ex..."
"Shhh. You're with me now. I'll take good care of you, Noelle. Always."
He opened the door, allowing her to slide in ahead of him. Taking the drugstore bag from her, he placed it on the dresser, then took his jacket off, draping it over the chair at the desk that graced every hotel room. Even through the shirt fabric, she could see even more how muscular Bucky was, with broad shoulders and a well-defined chest and abdomen. He loosened his tie, smiling as she lifted it over his head and began to unbutton his shirt, their eyes never leaving the other.
"Oh fuck," murmured Noelle, when she touched his chest with her fingertips. "You're too ... I ... I can't."
She began to hyperventilate, struggling not to cry as her breathing became rapid. Pulling the chair over Bucky sat her down in it, then emptied the bag of its contents, bringing it over and handing it to her as he kneeled in front of her.
"Breathe into it," he said, calmly. "You don't have enough carbon dioxide in your system and need to normalize your levels. But you know that, don't you?"
Noelle nodded, breathing slowly in and out, until she began to feel better. When she stopped using the bag, she looked away, feeling embarrassed. Bucky didn't say anything, just watched her, concerned.
"You're the most beautiful man I've ever met," she explained, almost in a whisper. "Why me?"
"Why not?" he countered. "You're beautiful, you really are." Bucky caressed her hair, then ran his hand down her arm, taking her hand in his and kissing it. "If anyone ever told you that you weren't pretty enough, or good enough, they were lying. I would have come home to you after World War II, Noelle. That's the honest truth. I will always come home to you."
Their lips met again, softly at first, then harder as they both set themselves free from restraint. For hours, they experienced something neither had ever expected to find that night; the one they were always meant to be with. It was new and amazing and scary all wrapped up in one incredible experience. Together, physically, emotionally, spiritually, they started something that was everything, altogether, all at once, and it made her want to cry out in joy.
--
When Noelle woke up, she was crying, the memories of the intense dream she just had, still fresh in her mind. She pressed her fist to her sternum, feeling the intensity of the emotions there, over her heart, the heart she gave to Bucky fully and completely after that first night together.
"You have to come home," she whispered. "I can't live without you. Don't give up, please."
A whisper, barely audible, sounded in her ears. She wasn't even sure she heard it or imagined it, or if it was her own subconscious saying it, but it was something that strengthened her, something to hold on to.
"Believe."
Author notes: Winnie the Pooh, Dutton Books for Young Readers; Illustrated edition, 1988, c1926, 1954.
If I Take You Home Tonight, sung by Diana Krall, 2015, music and lyrics, Paul McCartney, 2012 (unreleased at that time).