Chapter 6. Plans

On Monday morning Bucky called the nearest veterinarian's office to have Alpine examined, getting an appointment for that afternoon. He received a text message from Sam that he was going to Washington for a few days and wanted to stop in Brooklyn for a few days after that. Extending an invitation to stay at his place Bucky wondered if he should tell Sam about Hope. He wrote the text and deleted it several times before he decided to be truthful.

Bucky: I've met someone. Joyce's daughter, Hope, moved back to Brooklyn and is staying with her. We've been out once, had dinner together at the house a few times and have plans for another date.

Sam: Is she nice? Does she have a friend? Is Joyce okay with it?

Bucky: Yes, she's nice although our first meeting wasn't too good as she just got out of a relationship. Don't know about friends and Joyce was the one who suggested we go out.

Sam: I'm glad for you. We should go out to a blues club or something. If you can get me a date, fine. If not, maybe next time."

Bucky smiled and put his phone away, taking it out again as he received another text, this one from Hope.

Hope: I have a job interview. Brooklyn College needs a sessional instructor in painting as an option course, teaching freshmen in other faculties. If I get the job, they want me to start with the second part of summer session in two weeks. It's three days per week, daytime, which means we can still see each other evenings and weekends. I need to brush up on my painting. Fancy posing for me?

Bucky: Maybe. It wouldn't be nude, would it? I remember when Steve had to draw his first nude. The poor guy was so nervous he threw up.

Hope: I'll find out and let you know. It wouldn't be weird for you, would it?

He looked at the text for some time. Would it be weird?

Hope: Just looked up the syllabus on their website. Freshmen from other faculties do landscapes and still lifes. No nudes. You're off the hook. Just so you know, I wouldn't have shown your face or arm. I would have respected your privacy for that.

He smiled at her words. She was thinking of him.

Bucky: A friend is coming in for the weekend. He suggested we go out together, maybe to a blues club. Asked if you had any single friends to be his date. I can vouch for him. So can your mom.

He had a sudden flashback of trying to arrange a double date for him and Steve, and the girls not wanting to go once they saw who he brought.

Hope: Maybe. I haven't really connected with anyone who's still living nearby. Let me see what I can do. Can you tell me about him?

Bucky: From a small town outside New Orleans, ex-military, handsome, honest, talks too much sometimes for my taste but then I don't have to date him.

He sent it then added the most obvious fact.

Bucky: It's Sam Wilson, Captain America, the real one.

Hope: You should have led with that, lol. Just kidding. I'm sure he's just as entertaining as you. (You are). Gotta go. My interview is this morning.

He put his phone away again, happy for Hope to get a response to a job inquiry. Maybe, he could sign up for something at Brooklyn College and be closer to her. Taking his tablet out he brought up the summer school schedule of courses finding an anthropology course on culture and society that met Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday afternoons, from noon to 1:30. As he went through the website, he found they had a veteran's liaison. He was a veteran and was eligible for tuition assistance. It might be something to look at. In the meantime, he did have to see the career counsellor this week. So much to do, all of a sudden. He liked it.

After learning that Alpine was quite healthy, and getting her vaccinations, flea and worm medication, Bucky dropped the kitten off at his place and headed over to Joyce's, knowing she should be home. Hope came to the door, smiling, so meeting Tom must have gone well.

"We were just talking about you," she said, as she hugged him then let him in. "You didn't bring Alpine?"

"No, I just dropped her off at home after the vets visit. He said she's healthy, but she got a little stressed there." He stopped her by grabbing her hand. "Did you get it?"

She smiled and nodded then pulled him with her into the living room where Joyce and Tom both stood up from different armchairs to greet Bucky, Joyce with a hug and Tom with a handshake. Bucky sat on the couch with Hope.

"I go away for a weekend and come home to my daughter having a job and my friend rescuing a kitten," said Joyce.

"Hope rescued her, I just took her home," clarified Bucky, pulling his cell phone out to show pictures of Alpine. "She's still a little jumpy about things. I had to hold her with my left hand while the vet examined her and gave her the vaccinations."

"You should have seen him giving her a bath because of all the fleas," laughed Hope. "I suggested he take his shirt off, so it didn't get wet, but she was actually pretty good for him." Her mother looked at her with a little bit of alarm. "He cleaned the sink out and I cleaned out the cupboard where I trapped her. No fleas."

"I'll take your word for it," she replied. "So, how was Michael Bublé?"

"Good," smiled Bucky. "I liked him. We went for dinner first and talked a bit after, then I got her home at a reasonable hour."

"We're going out again," said Hope, glancing at Bucky before directing her attention to her mother. "In fact, I guess Bucky's friend Sam is coming this weekend and suggested we get him a date for a blues club. Do you know if any of my friends still live nearby? I haven't checked in with anyone yet."

"Really, Sam's coming? Bring him over for dinner." Almost as an afterthought she looked at Hope. "I think Ginny Young still lives nearby. I have her number here somewhere."

"Sure, she was always fun."

With all the pleasantries out of the way everyone sat there, quietly, looking at nothing. Joyce suddenly stood up and headed over to the living room armoire, opening a drawer and drawing out an address book. She flipped through it then found the number she was looking for, giving it to Hope who had joined her. Then she sighed.

"So, about last night," she began.

"What about last night?" asked Hope, her eyes flickering to Bucky.

"Look, you're both adults," said Joyce. "It's obvious you got caught up in something."

"Oh, geez, you saw us?" Hope turned away, fixing her gaze on Bucky. "She saw us."

"Joyce, we didn't ..."

The older woman put up her hands, stopping him. "I don't want to know details, just don't do it on the couch, or the kitchen counter, or... Tom, let's go for coffee. It's warm in here."

He stood up, smiling slightly at both Bucky and Hope, then left with Joyce. Still sitting on the couch, Bucky sat quietly, watching as Hope paced back and forth. Finally, he stood up, pausing where the security camera was and placing an ornament in front of it. She was still skittish, and he approached her carefully, then reached out and took her by the hand, drawing her in closer to him.

"You notice what she didn't say," he stated. Hope looked up at him, still bothered. "She didn't say we couldn't see each other." His eyes roamed over her face, as he ran one hand through his hair. "I'm going to take that as permission to carry on and see where this goes."

"You think she's okay with us?"

"Yeah, I do but we have to recognize that this is her house, her rules. We did get carried away last night. The next time we get carried away it will have to be at my place, that's all."

A soft smile was her first reaction. "So, are you saying if we get carried away at your place, you're not going to stop?"

"You're putting words in my mouth, sweetheart," he answered. "You're in control. If you're not ready, you say stop and I'll stop. But if you say nothing or you encourage me to keep going, then I'm going all the way."

She wrapped her arms around his middle, looking up at him. "Were they all like you back in the day?"

He smiled. "No, there were jerks then. I was no angel as I did play the field. But I tried to be a good date no matter if we ended up in bed or not."

They kissed, pushing it well past PG in intensity. When he pulled away, Hope's eyes stay closed for a long moment while she licked her lips. Then she sighed.

"You make it so difficult to wait when you kiss like that," she murmured. "It does all sorts of things to me, inside."

"You do all sorts of things to me, too," he answered, gazing intently at her. "Just so you know, I'm not interested in playing the field now. Whatever we're starting is important to me, I promise you." He smoothed her hair, kissed her on her forehead, then her cheeks and finally on the lips in a very sweet way, lingering for just a few moments. "Now, let's go take your mother some flowers and have coffee with her and Tom. Show her that we're not lovesick teenagers."

While Hope went up to her room for her purse, he returned the ornament he used to block the security camera back to its place then couldn't resist facing the lens.

"Joyce, we won't get carried away here again. We're going to try to take it slow. I promise that as your friend."

He heard Hope come down the stairs and turned to her. Once she locked the door and they stepped down the stairs to the sidewalk, he offered her his hand, which she took with a smile. Openly walking together as a couple in the warm June morning felt natural and he felt buoyant by her side. When they passed by a street vendor selling flowers, the man called out to Bucky.

"Flowers for your girlfriend, sir?"

He paused, looking at the man, then at Hope, watching how her eyes seemed to light up at that moment. Was she, his girlfriend, officially? Then Hope smiled at him before pointing to a small bouquet of red rosebuds.

"I like those," she said, innocently. "We can get Mom a mixed bouquet."

The savvy flower guy pulled a small bouquet of assorted mums, carnations, greens, and baby's breath from the water-lined display pail, holding both arrangements out to Bucky.

"I'll take both," he said, pulling his wallet out.

As the man gave him change, then wrapped the bottoms of the bouquets so they wouldn't drip, Bucky looked at Hope again, specifically at how the morning sun made her hair shine. When the man handed her the rosebud arrangement she smelled it, then touched the delicate looking flowers with her fingertips before looking up at Bucky.

"Thank you," she murmured. "Gather ye rosebuds while ye may."

"Isn't that the line from an old poem about seizing the moment?" he countered, taking the other arrangement. "Are we doing that?"

She smiled mysteriously, then took his free hand as they resumed walking. At the coffee shop, Joyce and Tom were at an outside table. Her face lit up as Bucky sat next to her, placing the flowers in her hand, then kissing her on the side of her head. Before he could do anything, Tom and Hope went to get their coffees. Joyce looked at the flowers, smelling the blossoms, then touching them with her fingertips, mirroring Hope's actions with her own bouquet.

"I'm sorry," murmured Bucky, as she focused on the flowers. "It was a moment of losing control that didn't go any further. It won't happen again in your house."

"I saw your little message a few minutes ago," she answered. She looked up at Bucky, her worried expression touching him. "Just don't hurt her. She's been hurt enough."

"You have my word," he answered. He looked up as Hope approached the table with two pastries and Tom followed with their coffees. "Now, tell us about your weekend."

For the next half hour, they enjoyed each other's company, going over the highlights of the weekend for both couples.

Bucky waited patiently in the reception area of the career counsellor's office. When he arrived, they had him take a fairly detailed questionnaire and turn it in then wait to be called by a counsellor. Several other people were also waiting, browsing the magazines, or scrolling through their cell phones. He was content to observe those who left their sessions, trying to decipher if they seemed satisfied with their meeting. Then a shorter man with thinning hair came out, scanning the faces, before resting on Bucky's.

"Sergeant Barnes?"

He stood up as the man smiled, then led him down the short hallway to a small office, indicating a chair to sit in while he closed the door and took his own chair. He put his hand out to shake Bucky's.

"I'm Rick Porter," he said. "I must say, it's an experience to meet you. I've never met someone who's actually named in the history books of World War II. You're a unique individual."

"I just hope you can help me," said Bucky. "I'm currently living on a stipend and a pension, but I would like to keep busy doing something, considering the government doesn't seem inclined to start up the Avengers any time soon."

"Understandable," smiled Rick. "You recently completed your GED requirements and did very well, gaining college credit for your marks. Are you interested in college?"

"I would like to try," said Bucky. "Even if I start out with a summer course, just to get my feet wet. I just don't know what field I would be suited to. Before the war I thought of engineering but I'm open to anything, really, except computers as I'm still learning just how to use one."

"Knowing the skill set that you have," he began, then he saw Bucky's frown. "I'm speaking of your military background, and physical abilities, not what you were forced to do ..." He looked flustered. "Oh dear, I'm messing this up."

"You can speak plainly," said Bucky. "I won't be offended if you refer to my years as an assassin."

"Thank you," replied a visibly relieved Rick. "You do have very specific skills but I'm guessing you want to distance yourself from them so that you're not pigeonholed into that type of job. So, jobs involving personal security, threat assessment, security guard, police officer, for example are probably areas you would rather not explore."

"I would rather not."

"Well, in going through your answers on the questionnaire it seems you do have an interest in many things, like science, culture, history, presumably anything that you missed out on when you were a prisoner of war. If you were a regular guy, I would recommend you go to college and choose a field like archeology, history, anthropology, preservation of cultural artifacts, or even political science if you're politically active." He scratched his head. "Do any of those appeal to you?"

"I was thinking of taking a college anthropology course for the summer, just to try it out." Bucky smirked. "Not sure about the political science part, you know, considering how many politicians were corrupted by HYDRA. But what would I do with any of those fields of study?"

"Anything," said Rick. "They all involve overlap with different disciplines and there are ways to use what you learned in different areas. For example, every time an older building gets torn down and they begin to excavate a new foundation an archaeologist gets called in to study the excavation. They're always finding evidence of previous inhabitants going back hundreds of years. What they find gets studied by the historians, who add that information into their studies of New York and the surrounding area. If what they find involves native artifacts, the anthropologists become involved, relating what those things say about the culture of those earlier times. The artifacts will likely end up at a museum where someone has to clean it, preserve it, catalog it, and add it to their collection of items from the same time frame." He grinned. "Then a politician will look at all of that and either say we could learn valuable lessons that are applicable today about running a city or a state, or they'll waive the evidence of the past away and say it isn't relevant in modern times. It's all context. But a lot of what makes this city famous is built on the foundations of history and culture."

It struck a nerve with Bucky, and he came away from the session feeling good about considering that anthropology course. Before he left, Rick called the veteran's liaison at Brooklyn College, putting him on speaker while Bucky was there. They confirmed Bucky's veteran's status, and he had an appointment on Monday to register for the course. It felt good to be moving forward with something. On the subway ride home Bucky received a text from Hope, asking him for dinner on the condition that he bring Alpine.

He smiled when he read that. The small kitten had already made her way into his heart, sleeping near him on the bed, her preferred sleeping spot. On the Monday night, he tried sleeping on the floor, but she bothered him so much he picked up the pillow and blankets in a huff, returning to the bedroom. Since then, it seemed she had a sixth sense of when his dreams would disintegrate into a nightmare and lightly batted his face until he woke, before the nightmare even really started. The first time it happened he wasn't impressed but when it happened again, and she bumped into his face with hers in an affectionate gesture he remembered enough of the dream to know it was going to turn into a nightmare.

"Are you my guardian angel?" he asked, as he scratched behind her ear, while she purred loudly.

Lying back down, he curled onto his side with Alpine tucked in beside him and fell asleep within minutes. In the four days since he brought her home, she had become part of his home life. Hopefully, when Sam arrived the next morning, she would be as accommodating to him.

When he did bring Alpine to Joyce's home, he was worried at first, but she fawned over the white kitten, bringing out some kitten treats for her. That was enough for Alpine to distract Joyce while she cooked the meal by circling around her ankles several times. Bucky had to pick up the kitten and hold onto her but even then, Alpine tried to get out of his arms.

"Why don't you come upstairs and see the progress I made on the screen?" asked Hope. "Bring Alpine with you."

"Yes, go," said Joyce. "I need to get this last part done without a kitten bothering me."

Following Hope upstairs at least distracted Alpine enough that she stopped struggling. Stepping into the craft room that had become Hope's studio he saw the screen panels lined up on a table, and the base layer of colours applied, a sky-blue up top with an ocean blue below it, and a sand colour on the bottom.

"I'll put some clouds in the sky and waves hitting the shore, then add some shells or starfish on the beach," she said.

"I like it," he said, as he examined it. "It's beautiful."

He put his arm out to her, drawing her in close, then kissing her on the side of her head as they both looked at the panels.

"I found a date for Sam tomorrow night," said Hope. "Not Ginny who Mom gave me the number for but another friend that I bumped into, Rachel. She split from her husband a year ago. He was abusive. Mom said Sam's a gentleman. He is, right?"

"He talks too much sometimes but yeah; he is a gentleman. I'll clue him in." He lowered Alpine to the floor, then turned to face Hope. "I missed you this week. Have you been working on this the whole time?"

"Among other things," she answered, as she rested her hands at his waist. "Practicing some things on the class syllabus. How did your career counsellor appointment go?"

He smiled. "Apparently, I have a thing for science and history." She grinned. "Go figure. I'm going to take a summer anthropology class on culture and society at Brooklyn College, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday early afternoons. See if it resonates with me. My veteran's benefits will pay for it."

"Yeah? That's great." Hope looked up at Bucky with a supportive smile. "Maybe we'll see each other around."

"That might have been an ulterior motive," he answered, then lowered his face to hers, kissing her softly at first.

As the kiss deepened, he enclosed her firmly in his arms, enjoying how she molded her body to his. He had missed this part of courting a woman, of feeling the soft curves of her body, the silken hair that begged for his hand to be enclosed in it, even the subtle scent of her body that enveloped him. Her rapid heartbeat was audible to him, spurring him to press his advance just a little more. A plaintive meow teased him out of the kiss, and he looked down to see Alpine reaching up his leg with her front paws.

"Killjoy," he murmured to the kitten, then he gazed at Hope. "I sure like kissing you."

"I like being kissed," she replied, then breathed out noticeably. "We better get back down there before Mom sends a search party. Go ahead and I'll be down in a moment."

Picking up Alpine, Bucky stepped away from Hope and went to the door, stopping to look at her. Then he was gone, and she waited to hear him descend the stairs before she reacted. Leaning against the table that held the panels she breathed several times, then rubbed her arms. How could she not fall for someone who kissed like he did and made her feel like she was the centre of his attention?

Hope lent her car to Bucky so he could pick Sam up at the train station. Timing his arrival for ten minutes after the arrival of Sam's train, he pulled up to his friend and double parked, quickly popping the trunk and helping get the cases for the flying suit and the shield into it. Sam dropped his weekend bag in then got into the front passenger seat. It only took moments but there were already horns beeping for Bucky to get going. He shook his head as he pulled away from the station.

"Thanks for picking me up," said Sam. "This isn't your car, is it?"

"Hope's," replied Bucky. "She stayed at home to continue preparing for her class. It's her first time teaching and she wants to be ready." He glanced at Sam. "So, anything new in Washington?"

"Same old, same old," said his friend, who then mimicked the tone of a politician. "You, Barnes, and that intelligence officer did a great job with the Flag Smashers, but budgets are tight and although we think a rapid response unit with the remaining members of the Avengers is a good idea it's not something we can fund right now. You know, Rhodey said that Tony Stark paid a lot of his own money towards keeping the initiative afloat. They weren't even happy then as they foisted the Sokovia Accords on us to keep us in line. Maybe we should be looking for alternative financing and run it as a private sector operation."

"Like a private black operations group?"

"No, I don't want to go there," answered Sam, hesitating for a moment. "Too many shady ones around as it is." He sighed. "Sorry. This shit keeps me up at night." He took a good look at Bucky. "I gotta say that you're looking relaxed. Having a girlfriend has made a difference."

"It is nice," smiled Bucky, softly. "She got a date for you. Her name's Rachel, and she split up with her husband a year ago because of abuse, so be nice."

"I can do that. You still sleeping on the floor?"

"Nope. I have a bed, and I sleep it in it. I also have a couch with your name on it. You won't recognize my place when we get there."

Sam chuckled, pleased to see Bucky looking positive. When they arrived at his place, Sam nodded appreciatively, seeing the plants and cushions. The walls were still somewhat bare, but Bucky said he had plans to put more pictures up. The couch was comfortable, and Sam had no doubt he would sleep alright on it. Then he saw the litter box in the corner of the living room.

"Is that what I think it is?" he asked, pointing at it. "You have a cat?'

"A kitten," explained Bucky. "Named her Alpine. She's probably hiding on you. Hope found her on their back deck. She's feral but she's settled down since I got her."

Sam started calling for her but stopped when Bucky explained she was likely deaf. Having a pet was not something he expected Bucky to have. Along with a girlfriend, the man was obviously making an effort to embrace life. Sam looked intently at his friend.

"What else have you been hiding?" he asked, trying but failing at not sounding like he was teasing.

Bucky's face turned a little pink. "I'm going to take a college course," he admitted. "Anthropology course on culture and society. Figured it would help me understand this century a bit better."

"Look at you!" Sam grinned. "Good for you, man. I'm proud of you."

A phone rang and both men checked with Bucky answering his smart phone. With a smile he said they would be over right away and hung up.

"Joyce," he said to Sam. "She's got lunch all ready for us. Come on. I know you're dying to meet Hope. Just remember, no flirting."

"Oh man, that's low," grinned his friend. "I would never ..."

"You wait," said Bucky, as they left the apartment. "You haven't seen her yet other than in a picture."

When they got to Joyce's, Sam received a big hug from her, then was introduced to Tom. Hope came out of the kitchen a moment later, wiping her hands on a tea towel, before offering one hand to him. She was pleasant to him, and even better, she was nice, in a way that he found it hard not to flirt. Then Bucky stepped in and for the first time, Sam understood what Steve was talking about when he reminisced about watching Bucky Barnes with the ladies. The man was handsome, charming, and definitely had an effect on Hope. That she had a similar effect on him was certain. They were a couple, maybe not quite in love yet, but certainly on the way to it. To Sam, it was a sign of his friend finally finding his stride in this century and he was glad to be there witnessing it.