Chapter 24. Intentions

The apartment was dark when Bucky arrived back from escorting Gladdie home, except for a sliver of light under Steve's door. A hint of female laughter told him Peggy and Steve were still awake, and he went to his room, closing the door and opening the window. The night sounds of the city entered his room, enough to drown out the sounds of the couple making love. He was truly happy for them but had been initially envious that while he seemed mired in depression over the loss of his arm, Steve and Peggy's relationship had bloomed into a full-blown passionate commitment.

Sitting in the dim light of the small lamp mounted on the wall above the bed, with his back against the headboard in his boxers and undershirt, Bucky lit up a cigarette, blowing the smoke out as he thought more of this evening. Gladdie ... shit, if he had known someone like her was in the Bronx, he would have been there a long time ago, looking. She was incredibly beautiful, not just in a physical way, obviously, but also in how she was both strong and vulnerable at the same time. Something had happened to her though, something bad. He knew it by the way her eyes panicked a couple of times. It made him want to put his arms around her and hold her until she felt safe, except he only had one. How could he protect her with only one arm?

He took another drag of his cigarette then looked at the cigarette pack on the nightstand. Perhaps he should consider quitting the habit. They didn't relax him the way they did before the initial treatment of serum he received from Dr. Zola, that fucking little madman. Even alcohol had no effect on him anymore, as Steven Grant explained how his metabolism had increased so much it burned through anything he ingested quicker than it could affect his brain. If he had remembered that while he was lying broken in that snowy ravine, he might have told Steven to shove the serum up his ass. But he chose to live and that meant he needed the new serum to heal properly, except for the arm ... it always came back to the arm, something the two versions of him seemed to have in common.

Dr. Erskine determined that the two different serums present in Bucky's body were in conflict with each other, preventing the arm from regrowing. The only solution he thought would make it work was to overdose Bucky with the Erskine serum, then bombard him with the Vita-Ray radiation, the same treatment that Steve got. The serum would supposedly fix what was broken in his body, somehow recognizing that his arm needed regenerating. But it was still only a theory. Erskine couldn't say for sure if it would work. At least he was honest about that.

The second alternative was to fit him for one of Stark's prosthetic arms, ugly, mechanical things that looked like something out of a horror story. Even Steven Grant had felt that Stark had missed the mark on his creations after he saw the prototypes in the lab, while Stark was searching for the Tesseract. The man could design the most beautiful, sleek cars ever seen but his best attempt at an artificial arm looked inhuman. Since Grant returned to England, Stark didn't seem much interested in the prosthetics, not with the new toy he found on the bottom of the ocean.

The third alternative was to leave him with the stump and assign him to a desk job or release him from the army outright. Job prospects for a one-armed man were limited, although he could probably use the GI Bill to go to college. Other men did it; there was no reason he couldn't, except he felt there was something greater for him, something that would make use of his rare physical abilities. Regardless, at some point he would have to make a decision.

Stubbing out the cigarette, in the ashtray Bucky turned off the overhead lamp and pushed his feet and legs under the covers. Lying there with his right hand under his head he thought again of Gladdie, of how she readily touched his stump over top of his uniform so that he could have the semblance of leading her while they danced, the softness of her body while he held her and of how her lips felt on his when they kissed. There was a depth to the still waters she allowed him to see, of that he was certain. He had never met a woman like her before, who had that kind of effect on him. Closing his eyes, he pictured her face as she looked out her window at him before he left. The image calmed him, and he soon fell asleep.

"How did it go after you left?" asked Steve, the following morning at breakfast. "Did you take her straight home?"

"No, we went for something to eat," replied Bucky. "We talked then I took her home."

"The Bronx, isn't that what she said?" Steve looked at him for confirmation. "That's quite a distance to go if you're going to see her again."

"We're meeting at the transfer station in Manhattan this morning at 11:30," he replied. "I like her. She's quiet but she has substance."

Steve glanced at Peggy, seeing her slight smile. After Bucky and Gladdie left the dance together, she told him that there was definitely something between the couple. When they got home, and saw that Bucky was still out, she was certain he was with the former mechanic.

"What are your plans after you meet?" she asked.

"Central Park, lunch," answered Bucky, trying not to sound too excited. "Nothing fancy. I just want to get to know her better."

The shared telephone out on the landing rang and Bucky froze for a moment, wondering if it was Gladdie cancelling their date, but no one came to the door to tell him he had a call and he relaxed, finishing his meal. Peggy noticed his reaction to the phone, then looked at her watch.

"I'll wash up, Bucky," she offered. "You need time to shower and shave if you have to meet her at 11:30."

"Thanks, Peg," he smiled, appreciating the favour. "Next time, I'll take care of your dishes."

Gathering his robe and his shaving kit he went into the bathroom and stripped down then stepped into the shower. He only took a few minutes then after drying, lathered his face up and began shaving. As long as he didn't try to rush things, he could manage it on his own. Once he was satisfied, he applied some aftershave then he put hair cream in, just enough to tame his mop as he combed. Since he had the serum, his hair grew so fast that it was hard to keep in check sometimes. Because it was already warm outside, he decided to wear civilian clothes, trousers, a short sleeved off-white shirt that still covered his stump, and a light suit jacket over it. He checked himself in the dresser mirror of his room before picking up his wallet and keys.

"I'm off," he said to Steve and Peggy, who were just finishing putting the breakfast dishes away. "I'll be back for dinner with my folks."

"Have fun," said Steve.

"Punk," replied Bucky.

"Jerk," said Steve, both of them grinning at their usual routine.

On the train less than 10 minutes later Bucky realized he should have bought Gladdie some flowers. Before the war that would have been the first thing he thought of. He must be losing his touch. As the car approached the station and squealed to a stop he got out onto the platform and looked for Gladdie's pale blonde hair. In the crowd of people milling about, he couldn't see her at first then it was if everyone parted and he saw her, standing in the middle of the platform, gazing at him with a soft smile on her face. She wore a blue blouse tucked into a blue skirt and he thought he hadn't seen anything as beautiful as her at that moment.

"Have you been waiting long?" he asked, when he came up to her, the other commuters mostly stepping around them, although they were bumped the odd time.

"Just a few minutes," she replied, then she took his right arm, and they walked outside into the warmth of the late morning.

Happy just walking together they said nothing for a while, until they came to an empty park bench, sitting on it. Turning so they could face each other they smiled, still somewhat shy in the other's presence.

"How did you sleep?" he asked.

"Really good," she replied. "You?"

"Once I thought of you, I slept like a baby," said Bucky. "I still have the odd nightmare but didn't last night."

"Me too," said Gladdie, then looked away, closing her eyes briefly. "I might as well tell you now." He looked at her, concerned. "I had a bad experience in England, just before I demobbed. My third time as a driver I found myself in a situation. I had to wait at a private club for the colonel I was driving, and it was very late at night. It was so warm that I couldn't wait in the car, so I stood outside." She began to breathe shakily. "It felt ... it felt like I was drowning, and I couldn't do anything to help myself. They were men I worked with, who constantly harassed me, and there just were too many of them, wanting one thing. I didn't even know they were there, otherwise I wouldn't have gone."

"Gladdie, you don't have to talk about it," said Bucky, squeezing her hand as he understood what happened by how she worded it. "I'm sorry you experienced that. I don't understand what happens to some men when they do something evil like that."

"It's alright," she said, swallowing noticeably. "Someone helped, a special agent in the intelligence services and his team. He came out of the dark and pulled them off of me before they could go through with anything. It was like they weighed nothing at all with how far he was throwing them into the distance. Then he picked me up and carried me in his arms all the way to the base hospital while his team took the others into custody. He was so angry at the colonel for leaving me outside alone in the dark. One of the nurses told me that after I was sedated, he went back, found the colonel and thrashed him for putting me into danger. He stayed in touch with me and testified against all of them at their court martial, after making sure they all faced charges."

"Sounds like he was a good friend to you," said Bucky, inwardly impressed at whoever the man was. "Do you still see him?"

"No, he was preparing for a mission," she said. "It was all very hush-hush. That was a month ago."

Bucky gasped slightly, suddenly realizing who she was talking about. "Was it Special Agent Grant?"

"Yes, that was his name. Steve Rogers reminds me of him. You know him?"

"I do know him," said Bucky, feeling thankful that Grant was there to intervene on the assault by those men. "How are you holding up?"

"I have good days and bad days," she answered, then she looked him in the eye. "Yesterday was a very good day."

"It was a good day for me as well," he added. "Did you tell me this so that I would understand when you have a bad day?"

Gladdie looked down for a moment then back at him. "Partly. I think you're going through something similar. There's a look in your eye that I see sometimes when I look in the mirror. We've both been hurt, deep down. It's probably why we felt something for each other."

That wasn't something he expected to hear, that she felt something for him. For several moments he searched for the right words to comfort her, but it was like his mind went blank. Then without thinking twice he made a decision, and it was like a dam within him burst as he spilled out everything that was troubling him.

"HYDRA did start to make me a super soldier, but Steve rescued me before they could finish the job. They started the rumours to discredit me when I joined the Howling Commandos. None of the others believed that, not with the missions we went on. We found the guy who was spreading them there and arrested another one here recently, but I still hear the whispers when I'm out and about. My fall happened after I was blown out the side of the train by a HYDRA soldier firing at me point blank. I almost died from the fall, but the serum HYDRA gave me kept me alive and a rescue team found me." For a moment he wanted to tell her that it was Steven Grant that found him, but he couldn't reveal that to her, not yet. "The leader knew I needed to be given more to survive and gave me a choice, because at the time he found me I had given up and wanted to die." He stopped talking for a moment and leaned closer to Gladdie while lowering his voice. "He said if I wanted to die, he would do it as a mercy. But if I wanted to live and to destroy HYDRA for what they had done to me and other soldiers that didn't survive then I had to get the same treatment that Steve did."

Gladdie said nothing but she realized by the desperate look on Bucky's face that this was something he needed to tell someone, and he was choosing to tell her. His right hand was still gripping hers, and she grasped it with both of her hands. Surprising herself she raised it and kissed the knuckle, bringing a surprised smile to his face. He leaned towards her and kissed her then, right in public, as they sat on the park bench. It was some kiss, one that she got lost in. When they parted, they both realized that people were staring at them.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, ignoring the onlookers. "Isn't it classified?"

"Yeah, but I had to tell someone who's not part of it," he replied. "Sometimes I think the people I know only tell me certain things to make me feel better, that deep down they think I don't deserve to have survived." He breathed out, looking around them. "I received more serum, right there in the ravine where they found me, and it kept me alive long enough to get me to a hospital where they had to reset almost every bone in my body. It all healed except for the arm but now they want me to undergo the rest of the process that Steve had to do to force my body into finishing the job. I'm afraid, Gladdie. I'm terrified."

"Of what?" she asked.

"If it doesn't work, I have to get a prosthetic arm." His anxious voice tore at her. "I don't want it. It's big and ugly and it makes me feel sick when I see it. But if I don't have two arms, I can't be part of the Commandos anymore and I committed to being in the fight. I feel like I've been backed into a corner, like an animal or a coward but I'm not a coward, I'm not."

His eyes became glassy, and she moved to be right at his side, putting her arms around him and holding him close. As people stared at his display of emotion, he turned his head so he wouldn't see them. In her arms he felt safe, like a refuge from the roller coaster he was barely hanging onto. He was aware of Gladdie rubbing his back, liking how comforting it felt.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm not usually like this but I still have nightmares of what HYDRA did to me, and of falling for so long bouncing off the rock walls of the ravine before landing at the bottom. I was helpless, and my whole body was on fire with the pain." Gladdie reached into her purse for a handkerchief, making Bucky smirk when she offered it to him. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Because I like you," she said softly. "No man has ever opened up to me like you just did. I won't betray your trust."

Bucky's eyes searched her face, seeing nothing but calm compassion. "I could fall in love so easily with you," he said.

Her face blushed a little, but she still looked directly at him. "I was thinking the same thing."

Facing forward, Gladdie pulled her arm away from his shoulder and held his hand again. They both sat with their thoughts, not feeling the need to say or do anything except be in the moment. They heard the barking of a dog and saw one running away from its owner, approaching them. Bucky stepped quickly in front of it and grabbed the leash as it flapped in the air, doing it so fast that at first Gladdie wasn't sure she had seen that. The owner arrived, wheezing noticeably at the exertion, thanking Bucky profusely for snagging the dog's leash. With a nod Bucky stood, watching the man walk away then he turned to Gladdie, wanting to get away from the people still staring at them.

"Let's walk."

She took his arm, and they picked a direction, strolling at a leisurely pace. Coming upon the Conservatory Garden, they sat on a bench near a pond with water lilies already blooming. A young couple, the man in a Navy black service dress uniform, walked by, holding hands and they both watched as he gave the young woman a coin to toss into the pond. Facing away from the edge of the water she tossed it backwards over her shoulder, then laughed as they hugged and kept walking.

"I wonder what she wished for," commented Gladdie.

"Maybe she gave thanks for him coming home in one piece," replied Bucky.

"Did you have anyone before you left?"

"No, I went out with lots of women but was never serious about any of them," he replied. "Wish it were different now."

"So, you want a wife and a family and the home with the white picket fence?"

"Yes, but I don't want someone that settles just for that, do you know what I mean? I want someone who will be my partner, so we'll build a life together. I know a lot of women stepped up to the plate while the men were at war and took over a lot of jobs that needed to be done. When the men come back, the women will be told to go back to being wives and mothers. It's not right. There should be a place for any woman who wants to continue working. There has to be enough work for everyone to be happy."

Gladdie smiled at him, liking what she was hearing. It was part of her dilemma with her parents that they were trying to pressure her into being a traditional wife and mother.

"My parents are pushing me to date a young man that my father works with," she admitted. "Donald served in Europe but was taken prisoner and spent the last year in a PoW camp for pilots, until it was liberated by the Russians, and he was repatriated because his eyesight deteriorated in the camp. He's alright but there's no spark between us." She turned her soft eyes on him. "I like you much more."

"Do they know what happened to you?" he asked, as he searched her face.

"No, I didn't tell them," she smiled, sadly. "I was already secondhand goods as Bert and I were ... intimate. Knowing about the attack would make me damaged goods in their eyes as well."

"I don't see you as either," murmured Bucky. "May I kiss you again?" She nodded and he placed his hand on her neck, drawing her closer to his face. With their lips only inches apart Bucky whispered. "You're so lovely."

She kissed him, opening her mouth just enough so that their tongues gently caressed the other. It was sweet and sensual; once again she felt like she could lose herself in what his lips made her feel. For the first time since the attack, she thought of what it would feel like to have someone touching her in that manner. Almost immediately she could feel her face get hot as her body reacted to that thought and she pulled away.

"Are you hungry?" asked Bucky, sensing her reluctance. "We could get some lunch."

"Sure," she replied. "Here in the park or should we go somewhere else?"

"Whatever you want." He smiled sincerely, as he truly just wanted to be with her.

They got up and started walking again, just taking whatever path presented itself. At a small café, Bucky pulled a chair out for Gladdie and they sat, ordering coffees then deciding to each have a sandwich. After paying the bill, they walked some more, window shopping until it started to rain. Without hesitating, Bucky took his jacket off, holding it over her head and they squeezed into a doorway as it poured down, both of them looking out from under the jacket, covered just enough by it and the edge of the opening that they didn't get wet. He became very aware of how good Gladdie smelled and watched her closely as they waited for the rain to stop.

"Gladdie," he said gently, getting her attention. "Would you have Sunday dinner with me and my family?"

She was quiet for several long moments, before looking up at him.

"I would love to. It won't be inconvenient for your mother?"

"No, she always makes too much." He grinned, inwardly thrilled that she agreed. "Plus, Steve and I usually eat all the leftovers. The serum gives us a big appetite."

"Is that why you took me out to the diner last night?" she asked, teasingly. "You were hungry?"

He ducked his head and blushed a little. "I was. Plus, I wanted to look at you, sitting across from me."

She looked up at the sky from under the jacket. "It's almost stopped raining. We can go, if you want."

"I'm fine right here," he said softly, moving closer to her. "There's no rush."

Aware that he was looking at her lips Gladdie smiled shyly and stepped closer to him. Bucky lowered his face closer to hers then was suddenly pushed into her by someone coming out of the doorway.

"Stop blocking the door," snapped the man, shaking his head at the couple.

"Come on," said Bucky, putting his jacket around Gladdie's shoulders and taking her hand. "There should be a subway stop near here."

Half a block later they found the stairs and descended down them into the warm humid underground space. After Bucky paid for their fare, they went through the turnstiles and waited for the train as he took his jacket back, putting it back on with Gladdie's help, realizing he didn't mind her assisting him. Two trains stopped before the one he wanted arrived. It wasn't too crowded, and they were able to sit together, holding hands. It wasn't long before they transferred to the station where the Brooklyn elevated train ran. As it went across the Brooklyn Bridge, Gladdie turned around and looked out the window at the imposing structure, her face alight with interest.

"I've never been on this bridge before," she said, noticing Bucky watching her with a bemused look on his face. "It's a lot bigger than I thought."

"It's one of the symbols of Brooklyn," he replied. "I've been on it so many times it's old hat to me. I like seeing it through your eyes."

As the train car approached the first station after the bridge, they watched as several people got up to position themselves at the doors. Gladdie looked expectantly at Bucky, but he shook his head.

"Two more stops after this," he said. "Then a little walk."

"You came all this way after taking me home last night," she stated. "That's quite the distance."

"You were worth it." He kept gazing at her. "I'll take you home tonight as well. A pretty girl like you shouldn't be alone on the trains at night."

"Do you really think I'm pretty?" asked Gladdie. "You've already said it more than any fella ever has, even Bert."

"Idiots," replied the dark-haired man, smiling. Then he placed his face next to her ear to whisper softly. "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met."

The sound of Gladdie's heart pounded in her ear, and she could sense it beating against her ribs. His words were like honey, sweet and dripping off his tongue. If anyone else was saying them she wouldn't believe them. Yet, there was an air of sincerity about them that she had never sensed before from anyone else. As if he could read her mind he continued whispering.

"I'll admit I've said similar things to other girls in the past but with you it's different. I don't want to say this to anyone but you, Gladdie. I wish I had met you before the war. Now that I have met you, I don't want to meet any other girl."

She wasn't sure what to say but it seemed Bucky wasn't expecting an answer as he faced forward, content to hold her hand as the elevated train continued on to the next stop. After the exchange of passengers stepping off and on, there was one more stop and she looked out the windows opposite to see what she could of the neighbourhood. It wasn't far from the Brooklyn Naval Yards and docks; the big cranes were visible from where the car was moving on the rails. Remembering that Bucky said he worked at the docks she looked up at him, receiving a smile in return. As the car began to slow down Bucky stood up and offered Gladdie his hand, helping her up from the seat. When they came to a stop the couple stepped out onto the platform then out the exit and down the stairs.

"This way," he said, when they began walking.

Surprisingly to Gladdie it felt much like the Bronx, with the same brownstones, large apartment buildings and the occasional detached house. When they turned down a street there were brownstone row houses on both sides. He stopped in front of the last one on the right.

"This is my parent's home," he said. "I grew up here. The ones across the street have been converted to flats and I share one with Steve and Peggy. I thought of you for a long time last night, after I got back. You're special, Gladdie. Come and meet my family."

Holding her hand, he led her up the steps, then dropped her hand to open the door, allowing her to enter before him.

"Ma? Dad? I'm here."

Bucky's mother, a plump woman with graying hair, came out of the kitchen wiping her hands on her apron, then stopped when she saw Bucky brought a guest.

"This is Gladdie Norton," said Bucky. "This is my ma, Winnifred Barnes. Gladdie and I met last night at the dance."

For a moment he tensed as his mother looked the tall blonde over then she stepped forward with her hand extended.

"Welcome, Gladdie," she said warmly. "You're joining us for dinner?"

"Bucky invited me, if it's not too much trouble."

"It's no trouble at all," said Mrs. Barnes. "Please come in."

She led them to the parlour where her husband sat in an armchair, reading the newspaper. Rebecca was sprawled on the couch, reading a book. She stood up, looking from Bucky to Gladdie then grinned.

"Dad, Rebecca, this is Gladdie Norton," said Bucky. "I met her at the dance last night. I wanted you all to meet her. This is my father George Barnes, and my sister, Rebecca."

His father stood up and shook hands with Gladdie, offering her his seat but Bucky pulled her over to the couch to sit with him.

"Gladdie just demobbed a few weeks ago," said Bucky. "She was a mechanic at headquarters in England."

"Where are you from?" asked Mrs. Barnes.

"The Bronx," replied Gladdie. "This is the first time I've been in this part of Brooklyn. It looks the same as my neighbourhood. Feels familiar."

"Mechanic? Do you plan to keep on doing that now that you're back?" asked Mr. Barnes, sitting in his armchair again.

"I'd like to," admitted Gladdie. "My grandfather taught me a lot about cars and it's a job that I get a sense of satisfaction from. Haven't found a garage willing to hire me yet but I'm hopeful."

"I'm sure you'll find someone willing to take a chance on you and if you don't you could always start your own garage," said Mrs. Barnes. "A woman can do any job a man can, as long as it's the right job for her."

"That's what my grandfather always taught me," answered Gladdie.

"Norton is your last name?" Mr. Barnes thought for a moment. "I knew a Corporal Bob Norton during the Great War, a clerk. I believe he was a mechanic and from the Bronx."

A beautiful smile erupted on Gladdie's face that made Bucky warm inside. "That was my grandfather. He volunteered even though he was technically too old. I think he dyed his hair dark to make himself look younger and took at least ten years off his age on his enlistment form."

Bucky's dad chuckled. "That was him. Small world, isn't it? How is he?"

Gladdie's smile dropped. "He passed away last year."

"I'm terribly sorry," said Mr. Barnes. "He was quite the character and a good man."

They were interrupted by the arrival of Steve and Peggy who both greeted Gladdie with smiles. When they all sat down at the dinner table Gladdie could see this was a close family, as even Steve and Peggy were treated with a familiarity that she didn't feel from her own parents. Although Mrs. Barnes wouldn't let her help get dinner ready, she accepted Gladdie's insistence on cleaning up, letting the two couples do the work. Mr. Barnes stopped for a moment to ask Bucky if he was going to have a cigarette outside while he had his pipe.

"I've quit smoking, Dad," smiled Bucky. "Doesn't do much for me anymore. But I'll come out for a talk, if you want."

Glancing at Gladdie for her okay Bucky stepped outside with his father. He sat quietly as his dad filled and lit his pipe. The older man looked intently at his son.

"She's a lovely woman." He puffed once and blew out the aromatic smoke. "I don't think you've ever brought someone home to meet us this quickly. What are your intentions?"

Bucky was quiet for several long moments then looked his father in the eye. "I want to marry her. I know it's very quick but almost from the moment I met her I feel like we belong together, like we fit together in the best way. She's the type of woman that wants to stand with her man and I want to be that man. With her I feel calm, and good about myself." He looked at the stump. "I think with her I'm finally willing to take the next step."

"Does she know what you are?" asked his father.

"Yes, I told her everything," said Bucky, meeting his father's gaze. "She didn't flinch or pull back. For me, it felt like a barrier had been lifted. I'm not afraid anymore, not if she's with me."

"Alright," nodded the older man. "We'll support you. You know I fell very quickly for your mother. Not as quickly as a day but if it's right then it's right. Mind that you treat her properly. Don't let that post-traumatic thing make you act like I did sometimes. I'm still surprised that your mother stuck with me."

After visiting for a while Mr. Barnes offered to drive Gladdie back to the Bronx. Steve asked if he could come for the ride although he really did it so that Bucky and Gladdie could sit together in the back seat. When they got to Gladdie's street Mr. Barnes parked in such a way that the couple could have some privacy as they said goodnight. Steve studied the man who had basically been his surrogate father for so long.

"He's already in love with her," he said quietly. "Peggy thinks they're made for each other."

"Maybe she was the woman he was looking for before the war," said Mr. Barnes. "Maybe he was the man she needed."

They both nodded at that observation then smiled as Bucky opened the back door and sat inside. On the ride home they talked about many things including the Dodgers, and how soon it would be before Germany surrendered, as it was now inevitable. It was probably one of the most engaging conversations the three men ever had together.

Demobbed - British war time slang for demobilized, the process of being released from military service.