Tag Archives: peggy carter

“Hey, 6B” – chapter 16

Story Summary: Bucky is on a Mission: Find out about his past and try to remember the Man in Blue. His “mission” takes him to Boston where he meets the fun and flirty, Colin Shea. With Colin’s help, he might just find all the answers he’s been searching for…but he also might find love. With outside pressures, Bucky has to decide between remaining in the dark and staying with Colin or going after the man who haunts his nightmares.

Crossover: What’s Your Number? meets Captain America: Winter Soldier/The Avengers/Captain America: Civil War (more the movies and less the books or graphic novels)

Rating: R if this was a movie. MA if it was a TV show. Mature on Archive of Our Own. Not rated on Tumblr. There is some LGBTQ/slash sexual situations, though nothing erotic. It’s a simple Rated-R romcom. No porn. (Think along the lines of Wings meets Love, Darrows, kiTT.) As Cap would say: Language! Because yes, there is some language and double entendres. Not so much violence as of now.

Genre: RomCom/Action

Chapter word count: 2056

Characters: James Buchanan Barnes “Bucky”, Peggy Carter, Baron Zemo, Underood – not Patty, but related Black Widow type character.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to their original creators. There is no copyright infringement intended. This is all done in fun and love for my favorite movies. Thank you for stopping by and reading.

Notes: Oh, Agent Carter. I love you! I’m hopeful that Netflix will take you under her wing!

Inspiration for this chapter: One of my favorite parts of Winter Soldier is when Steve visits Peggy. I always cry during this part. Always. So I knew it would be included somehow, someway…Miss Peggy Carter and Bucky. And the fondue line from First Avenger? Yeah. I will never leave that behind. (LOL)


16.

I remove the ball cap from my head and brush my long hair back from my face. I spot an older woman wearing a white blouse and a pink sweater over her shoulders, buttoned at the top to keep it in place. Her matching pink lips smile when she notices me walking towards her. “May I be of help to you sir?” Her accent is sprinkled with hints of German, her poise stiff and tall.

The name plate on the desk reads: PATTY UNDERWOOD.

“Yes, Ms. Underwood. I’m Mr. James from Harvard. I have an appointment to interview Ms. Margaret Carter.”

She sits and puts on a pair of short rectangle glasses that were hanging on a chain around her neck. Her fingers dance across her keyboard and she lifts her chin to read the computer screen. “Yes, Mr. James. I see Ms. Carter’s niece arranged this interview. I’ll show you to her room.”

She sets a “Will Return Soon” sign on the counter and leads me to the elevator bay. Her fingernail clicks against the up arrow button. The elevator behind us dings as the doors slide open. She steps inside before me and pushes the three button. The doors close and the elevator jerks before taking us upward at a snail’s pace.

Patty Underwood folds her hands and rests them against her grey skirt. She stares straight ahead, as do I, but in my peripheral I notice that she’s checking me out, her irises at the corners of her eyes. I try not to fidget under her scrutiny…

Why is she studying me like she is? There is no way she knows anything about me, and yet she’s glaring at me as though she’s about to pull out a knife and hold it to my throat.

The elevator jerks to a quick stop on the third floor. A ding rings out as the doors slide open. Patty steps out and away from the elevator like a soldier—tall, arms stiff, neck tight—and leads me down to room 324. Her posture almost falls lazy as her knuckles lightly rap on the door. She opens it and cheerfully says, “Peggy, you have a visitor,” before allowing me to pass. “I’ll be back when it’s lunch time.” Patty smiles at Peggy, but gives me a once over before she shuts the door.

Peggy is in her bed, wearing a white gown. The head of the bed is angled so she’s reclining comfortably. Her silver hair is parted neatly and set just like I remembered her brown hair in the 1940s. Her brown eyes are wiser, older, but still have a light with a spark of danger behind them. Her withered hand reaches out and pats the bed. “Have a seat, Mr. James.”

I pull the chair by the window closer to her bed and sit down. My hat comes to rest on the bedside table and I say, “Hi, Peggy.”

“Sergeant Barnes?” she gasps, starting a coughing fit. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“What could we possibly have to talk about?”

Déjà vu. “Steve.”

“Captain Rogers? Is he all right? Did something happen to him?”

“I was hoping you could give me some answers. Have you heard from him lately?”

Peggy shakes her head. “I can’t say for sure. Steve and I had a date …” Her voice goes quiet and she stares at me, almost unbelieving. “Sergeant Barnes? But how are you…? You’re dead. As of the mission in the Alps.”

“I should be, but something hap—”

Peggy interrupts me, saying, “Steve cried into my shoulder over your loss. He blamed himself for losing you. So much so, he went on that blasted mission without a care for his safety…that mission to take down the Red Skull and save New York from decimation…that ended with him plummeting with a plane into the arctic. That damn mission that took his…”

She sniffles and dabs at her teary eyes with her hand. I lean forward and grab a tissue, passing it to her. She snatches it from my hand.

“He came back for me, you know? Looking just like he did back then. Time never touched him. Just like you.” She dabs at her eyes and takes a deep shaky breath. “I can’t believe you’re here, like that. What sort of testing did Hydra do on you?”

“I’m not sure,” I answer with a stiff shrug and a shake of my head. “I was hoping you could give me some answers.”

She licks her lips and huffs. “I vaguely remember the war. I know Captain Rogers rescued you from Zola. They were testing a similar serum, but they weren’t successful. I suppose Hydra knows their tests worked now?”

I feel compelled to skip that answer and go straight for the end result. “I’m no longer with them, Peggy. That fight with him…he jogged something in my memory. Something that was stronger than all their brainwashing. Something that changed my world.”

Her eyes fall downcast, watching as she shreds the tissue in her hands. Her voice is quiet when she finally says, “He loved you so very much. More than I ever thought he should.”

It feels like she’s stabbing a knife into my heart and twisting it. “I know he did, Peg.”

Peggy’s brown eyes meet mine, steeling over as she says, “I know somewhere in that big heart of his, he loved me, too. Sometimes I think it was more, sometimes less. I know he was the only man to bring a smile to my face during those times.”

“To be honest, I think he was torn between us.” I reach over and take her hand. It’s icy and frail, but can still squeeze the fuck out of my hand. “Which is why I’m here. I need to know if he’s okay. Have you seen him? Heard from him recently?”

She blinks a few times, staying as quiet as a still day. Then, with a tilt of her head, she says, “Sergeant Barnes? What are you doing here?” Her eyes walk all over my features. “You’re supposed to be dead. How are you the same as all those years ago?”

“Peggy, we were talking about Steve, remember?”

“Why? Is something wrong with Captain Rogers?”

Peggy stiffens and tries to sit up. Coughs come on stronger this time. Her hand with the tissue goes to her mouth. I get up and pour her a glass of cool water. Then I hold the glass to her lips as she sips it from the glass and lays back. I set the glass on the table and take the chair again.

“He came to see me…said he he was late for his date to dance with his best girl.” She sniffles. “He came back for me.”

I take her hand again and pat the backside of it…

“Bucky Barnes, you are my son’s savior. Where would my Steven be without you?” a blonde woman with brilliant blue eyes asks. She sits at the kitchen table in the meager apartment. “Thank you for taking care of that bully before he got hurt.”

She starts coughing and cannot catch her breath. I get up and grab a glass of water, holding it as she takes slow sips. When the coughing fit has passed, I set the glass on the table and take my seat. Her hand takes mine and the other pats the back of it in a motherly thank you.

“Bucky, you might be sixteen, but you are certainly a hero.” A small laugh escapes her peach tinted lips. “Just when I was going to offer you a glass of milk.”

I laugh along, though the thought of how weak she was becoming sat like lead in my brain. “That’s okay, Mrs. Rogers. I wasn’t thirsty.”

She stands up and waves me off. “Nonsense. You’re still a growing young man and you need your milk.” A few steps towards the small refrigerator later, she adds, “And Bucky, you’re old enough now to call me Sarah.”

“Okay…Sarah.”

Another coughing fit takes her over before her fingers could touch the handle of the refrigerator. She crumples on the floor, coughing into her hand. When I rush over, I notice the blood on her palm, but she tucks it away under her folded arm and smiles at me. We both pretend it never happened.

“Sergeant Barnes, are you still with me?”

I shake away the memory and smile at Peggy. “Peg…when did Steve come back to see you?”

“I’m not quite sure of the date. About a month ago?”

“How did he look?”

“Handsome as ever, Healthy,” she says, a smile playing with her lips. “Post serum or not.”

“He wasn’t scratched or beaten when he came to visit?” I ask, wincing in guilt.

“Why would he be beaten? What happened?”

It’s then I tell her about the skirmish, ending with me pulling him out of the Potomac. Peggy listens in complete silence, though she’s staring daggers at me. Her hands ball into fists. And I couldn’t be more thankful that she doesn’t have a gun. At least not one that I’ve noticed.

“And I need to find him. It’s imperative.”

Peggy inhales deeply, coughing. “I don’t know where Steve is. I remember seeing that helicarrier in the river on the television and I believe Steve came to visit before then.”

“What about Stark? Are you still in touch with him?”

“Howard Stark and I don’t fondue. When will you and Steve get that through your heads?”

Both my hands rise to my shoulders, palms out. “Fondue is cheese and bread. Nothing more than that. Understood. But…I mean, Howard helped create the post…him. I thought maybe they became friends, kept in touch. Look, I just have to know if Steve is alive. I have to talk to him. I have to tell him that I’m starting to remember.”

“Howard and his wife died in 1991. So…” Peggy’s chin quivers and tears well in her eyes. “You’re going to tell Steve you love him,” she states, trying to keep her composure.

I shake my head. “I don’t know, Peg. I…”

As suddenly as the tears welled, they disappear from her eyes. Peggy stares at me blankly as though she’s trying to remember me from another point in time. Her hands lift and point my way as though she has a gun, pointing it at my nose. “What do you want, Sergeant Barnes? Why are you breaking into my house in the middle of the night?”

And I know where she went.

“I’m sorry, Peggy…uh, Agent Carter. I shouldn’t have come here. I’m going to go now.”

She nods and lowers her hands slowly. “It’s for the best. Steve might love you, but he loves me, too. That’s just something you’ll have to deal with, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I say with a bow of my head. “I’ll be going now.”

“See that you shut my door on your way out.”

I leave her room, doing as she asked. The question of Steve is more tangled than ever before. Did he really love her more than me? Is that what happened to us? Or was he  too grief stricken about my loss like she said?

“I hope your visit went well, Mr. James,” Patty Underwood says as I pass the front desk.

I glance over and see a syringe and a small glass bottle of clear fluid on a small silver tray on her desk. My eyes flicker to hers and she quickly looks away. “It went as expected,” I answer in a flat, perturbed voice as I continue to stalk towards the door, hands in pockets.

“Well, good,” she says, proving she wasn’t paying attention at all. She turns to the door of the office behind her. “Dr. Zemo, that medicine has arrived and is ready to be administered.”

A dark-haired man steps out of the office behind her. He’s snapping on some gloves. “Egszellent,” oozes from his mouth in a thick German accent. “Vell, done, Undervood.”

I get past the glass doors and pull the burner from my pocket. “6A” is the only name programmed into the phone. I touch it and in moments I hear Colin’s voice. “Hey, 6B.” I can breathe a little easier.


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END NOTES: Thank you for reading! The images are my own Screencaps from Captain America: Winter Soldier. The gifs were found on giphy.

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Review: Marvel’s Agent Carter: Season One Declassified

Marvel's Agent Carter: Season One Declassified
Marvel’s Agent Carter: Season One Declassified by Sarah Rodriguez
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

If I could, I give this all the stars in the universe! Well, maybe not that many, but definitely close to it.

Disclaimer: (seems all my reviews have this lately) I am a DIE HARD Peggy Carter fan. She is one of the best characters to come out of Marvel (Cineverse and Comics), IMO. Right up there with Cap. That being said…it may have influenced this glowing review, but then I think I would love all but one part of this book anyway. Here’s hoping I can defend that statement.

First off, I cannot do a proper review of this book without mentioning the slip cover and the cover of the book. The book itself is 11 x 9 (by my ruler, not going for the half marks and such). Once you peel away the plastic, you have this gorgeous slip cover. The front bears the title and Peggy’s blues on an SSR eagle.

PC1

The back side has Peggy in her Captain America reminiscent, trademark red and blue outfit. The book itself is printed to look like an embossed leather dossier, but is in fact smooth. Both are matte finished and do not pick up shine.

PC2

Inside, you are greeted by gorgeous, full-sized color images and a letter written by Peggy Carter herself, Hayley Atwell. And the book takes off from there.

Chapter 1 – My Name Is Agent: This section covers how Peggy Carter came to be. Covers her time with Steve Rogers/Captain America in The First Avenger. It mentions the featurette that started her off as well as her Agents of SHIELD tie-ins. A great backstory to bringing Peggy from the pages of the comics to modern times on the screen.

Chapter 2 – From Script to Screen: This is a great section for someone who loves a behind the scenes feature of movies and shows. It’s broken down into and episode for episode series of tales about the episode, the thoughts behind it, and even some moments. Very thorough. I plan on pulling this out during this summer’s rewatch of Season one and rereading with each episode.

Chapter 3 – Modern Retro: Bringing Agent Carter’s World to Life: This is like a history lesson and modern day clashing in a really fun and informative way. I had no idea why the men’s ties on the show were always so short–until I read this. I noticed certain things about the costumes, hair, scenery, and I finally had some questions answered as well as finding out more about Automats and life in the 1940s.

Chapter 4 – Sweet Dreams: The tail end, just a few short pages. Just a were Peggy came from to where she is going wrap-up.

Throughout the book there are images upon images. All in full-color (except the few in black and white for explanation purposes), all gorgeous, all fitting. I found myself entranced a few times really scouring some of these images–the Howard Stark roster of inventions and 1940s office life were among my favorites beyond the characters. (Everyone had a Royal Typewriter and the writer in me is SO VERY JEALOUS of that fact.)

It didn’t disappoint. Not in the least.

HIGHLY RECOMMEND!!! Especially if you love Marvel or Peggy Carter as much as I do.

*I NEED A HERO READ – MAY 2016* I cannot believe they cancelled Agent Carter yesterday. I want to cry and scream. Instead, I’ll keep begging Netflix (and Hulu) to keep the show alive. At least for one more season so some major questions are satisfactorily answered and my favorite characters aren’t left in an eternal limbo. #AgentCarterNetflix

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“Hey, 6B.” – chapter 11

Story Summary: Bucky is on a Mission: Find out about his past and try to remember the Man in Blue. His “mission” takes him to Boston where he meets the fun and flirty, Colin Shea. With Colin’s help, he might just find all the answers he’s been searching for…but he also might find love. With outside pressures, Bucky has to decide between remaining in the dark and staying with Colin or going after the man who haunts his nightmares.

Crossover: What’s Your Number? meets Captain America: Winter Soldier/The Avengers/Captain America: Civil War (more the movies and less the books or graphic novels)

Rating: R if this was a movie. MA if it was a TV show. Mature on Archive of Our Own. Not rated on Tumblr. There is some LGBTQ/slash sexual situations, though nothing erotic. It’s a simple Rated-R romcom. No porn. (Think along the lines of Wings meets Love, Darrows, kiTT.) As Cap would say: Language! Because yes, there is some language and double entendres. Not so much violence as of now.

Genre: RomCom/Action

Chapter word count: 1,704

Characters: James Buchanan Barnes “Bucky”, Colin Shea, Peggy Carter (Agent Carter/Margaret), Colonel Phillips

Disclaimer: All characters belong to their original creators. There is no copyright infringement intended. This is all done in fun and love for my favorite movies. Thank you for stopping by and reading.

Notes:  This chapter is part three of that typing roll… While typing these chapters, I’ve been listening to both X-men: First Class and the Kingsman: The Secret Service musical scores. I can’t listen to any of the Cap/Avengers ones because I daydream instead of type. They both provide that intense-yet-action-filled feeling that any hero should have playing for them. Plus they’re both done by Henry Jackman…who is also responsible for both Winter Soldier and Civil War scores…

Inspiration for this chapter:

And my absolute favorite part of The First Avenger:


11.

 

The hike through the foggy morning was tenuous, yet the feeling of freedom was exhilarating. Steve, me…the rest of the rescued…all emerging from behind enemy lines and marching into the base camp of the 107th. We stopped in the dead center of camp, surrounded by soldiers and tents flapping in the cool morning breeze.

Colonel Philips greeted us. And she walked from a tent, lips blazing red.

The colonel didn’t thank him, just mentioned something about having faith and storming off. He barked orders left and right. Medics took the wounded.  The men dispersed and the three of us stood staring at each other. She smiled at Steve, turned, and left, sauntering off in her military skirt.

“Who was that?” I asked.

Steve’s eyes stayed with her. A guilty smirk took control of his face. “Peggy. She…fondues with Howard Stark.”

“What does that mean?” I ask.

Steve answered with a shrug.

Note to self: Find out what ‘fondue’ is French for and do it with Steve.

He faced me, hand landing on my shoulder with a playful shake. “I have you back,” he said and wrapped his arms around me.

That hug was quickly moved to private quarters where my best friend became my commanding officer in every way. The celebration lasted from night into morning into a day, into two days. Just my buddy, Steve, and me as it always has been. As it should always be. That red distracting smile nowhere in sight.

A week later, we traveled to London to assemble a group to take out Hydra’s weapon division. The Howling Commandos and us in a hidden little pub popular with military men. Just us guys hanging out, getting to know one another. Steve went to the bar and I followed.

“I can’t believe you’re going to follow Captain America into battle,” he said, leaning into the bar on his elbows.

“I’m not,” I said. “That little guy from Brooklyn who never gave up? I’m with him.”

We toasted some shots, arms slung around each other like best friends about to break out into song on New Year’s Eve. The drinks fall back into our mouths, mine burning a trail down my throat. I was about to kiss him when his gaze caught something over his shoulder. His arm dropped and he backed away from me.

It was her. Steve made a quick introduction, giving me her name—Peggy Carter, the woman in red. I tried to introduce myself, but every word from my mouth fell on deaf ears. I was invisible to both of them as they flirted with each other, making dates, making plans as though I never returned from the stint behind enemy lines.

Peggy walked out of the pub. Steve’s head cleared and he made it like all was right in the world again. And I played along with him, not quite sure if she held some sort of mind control over him. Maybe something the government instituted when they turned him from that tenacious kid I loved to the super soldier beside me as a means of holding the ultimate control over his actions.

Late that evening, Steve took it upon himself to see the very drunken DumDum home from the pub with the help of our friend, Frenchie. I said my goodbyes and promised to meet Steve back at the base.

There was just one stop I had to make first.

#

In the outskirts of London, sat a darkened neighborhood. Few cars were parked along the streets. The neighborhood was kept dark upon orders in case of a night air raid. The houses barely had lights on themselves, maybe a few candles in windows here and there. Half way down Birch Tree Walk, I found the address I was searching for.

The small cottage sat quiet. A small oil lamp illuminated the lacy curtains in the window. A tall man in a pressed shirt and pants was at the door, hat in hand. He appeared to be British military with the uniform of an officer in the making, medals pinned to his chest. He was busy chatting with a brunette, her lips as bright red in the dark as they were during the day.

Peggy Carter.

She leaned forward and placed a swift kiss on the man’s cheek. He turned and practically marched his way down the sidewalk, snapping a sharp right onto the main road. I waited behind the tree across the street until the man disappeared around the far corner.

Keeping to the shadows, I ran across the street and stepped over the knee-high fence, plastering myself against the large tree in the front yard the second I saw Peggy in the front window. She twisted the wick on the lamp until the light vanished and she disappeared into the dark of the house. I snuck around the cobblestone path to the rear yard, peering into window after window as I went. Notes accumulated in my head. She seemed to be the only one home, Peggy herself heading into the bedroom and shutting the door.

I checked a few windows on the opposite side of the small house and I felt like the luckiest man on earth when one opened with ease—she should really lock her windows. I hoisted myself up and through the window, sliding head first, being as stealthy as possible. My hands landed flat on the floor and I snaked the rest of the way into the room. Once my feet were clear of the sill, I pushed myself up.

A barrel of a gun was staring at my nose. The click of the safety releasing tore through the fabric of silence covering the room. Finger ready on the trigger.

“What are you doing here?” Peggy asked with a glint of a dare in her eyes, keeping the gun steady.

I swallowed down the terse knot in my throat. Slowly I moved until I was resting on my knees, hands up at my shoulders. Fingers spread wide, “I need to talk to you. That’s all.”

“What would we possibly have to talk about, Sergeant Barnes?”

“Steve.”

Another click resounded as she set the safety on the gun and lowered it until it was pointing at the floor. She seemed genuinely worried about him, her voice trembling as she posed her questions. “Captain Rogers? Is he hurt?”

“He’s fine. Healthier than he’s ever been in his whole life.”

A breath of relief wisped from her lips. Her hand fluttered to her heart as though she was trying to stop it from pounding. “Then what is it you feel is so important you broke into my family’s home in the middle of the night to tell me.”

“When you’re around, I cease to exist.”

Her pink tongue touches her red lips as she fights back a smile. “So…he…likes me?”

I get to my feet, head shaking at her joy. “Look, I don’t know what game you’re playing with his heart, but you need to stop.”

“Excuse me. Game?”

A frustrated breath hits the air and I accused with a pointed finger, “Everyone knows you…you…fondue with Stark.”

Her eyes widened. “I don’t fon-aything with Howard Stark.”

“Steve said…”

“Captain Rogers misunderstood that discussion in the plane. As for who I have an interest in, it’s none of your concern, Sergeant Barnes.”

“But it is of my concern. I’ve been the one taking care of Steve. Our whole lives, I’ve been the one protecting him…there for him when he needed a shoulder…”

Peggy’s hands planted on her hips, her head up and jaw stern. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Steve is capable of taking care of himself now. I’m sure he can handle making his own decisions.”

She called him Steve.

As Peggy stares me down, her hands loosen from her waist, dropping free. Her hard gaze turns soft, almost sympathetic. “You love him, don’t you?”

I turn away before her scrutinous gaze can read anything else. “Just leave Steve alone, Peggy. He already has someone who cares for him more than life itself. You’re going to do nothing but confuse him.”

Before she could respond, I bolted. The front door hit the wall behind it with a house jarring BOOM and I took off into the night. I had one week to prove my love to him, one week before the mission in the Alps, one week to beat out SSR Agent Peggy Carter as far as Steve’s heart was concerned.

#

“That week I shared with Steve was the best one we’ve ever had. Then the train mission, and I don’t remember anything after that…until the incident in DC.”

Colin has been listening to me talk for the past few hours. With a kind ear and big heart, he sits, chin in hand, at his kitchen table while I pace around the room and reenact the first concrete memory I’ve had since…

Well, outside of my dreams anyway.

“That explains why you ignored me and just daydreamed on the bus ride home.” He takes a few breaths that border on a heavy sigh. “Okay, so you remember this Peggy Carter. I’ll add her to our must find list. Maybe she’ll remember something. Otherwise…”

Colin falls completely silent, his lips pressing together. Those puppy dog eyes are ever so sad. He takes to rubbing through the stubble on his chin with his finger and thumb like a man in deep thought, though he’s a shallow pool. I could probably guess everything he has in his mind right now.

“You don’t know if you can find Steve,” I say, sitting across from him.

“Steve Rogers. The Captain America. We might know his name, but finding an address, a phone number…being he’s a government operative…” Colin stops fidgeting and stares at me. “…I’d have an easier time finding information on Jake Adams, iii—the man who owns half of Boston—than I would your Steve. It will be near impossible.”

I never once thought it would be easy to track him down. I don’t accept missions lightly. “I understand.”

“In the meantime, we have Peggy Carter to find. Let’s hope she’s still alive and can give us something about you or him.”


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Ending Notes: Thank you fro reading! The images are my own, screenCAPped from my copies of Captain America: The First Avenger. The gifs were found on giphy.com

 

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“Hey, 6B.” – Chapter 9.

Story Summary: Bucky is on a Mission: Find out about his past and try to remember the Man in Blue. His “mission” takes him to Boston where he meets the fun and flirty, Colin Shea. With Colin’s help, he might just find all the answers he’s been searching for…but he also might find love. With outside pressures, Bucky has to decide between remaining in the dark and staying with Colin or going after the man who haunts his nightmares.

Crossover: What’s Your Number? meets Captain America: Winter Soldier/The Avengers/Captain America: Civil War (more the movies and less the books or graphic novels)

Rating: R if this was a movie. MA if it was a TV show. Mature on Archive of Our Own. Not rated on Tumblr. There is some LGBTQ/slash sexual situations, though nothing erotic. It’s a simple Rated-R romcom. No porn. (Think along the lines of Wings meets Love, Darrows, kiTT.) As Cap would say: Language! Because yes, there is some language and double entendres. Not so much violence as of now.

Genre: RomCom/Action

Chapter word count: 2,056

Characters: James Buchanan Barnes “Bucky”, Colin Shea, Brock Rumlow (in the clip down there), Nick Fury, Peggy Carter (Agent Carter/Margaret)

Disclaimer: All characters belong to their original creators. There is no copyright infringement intended. This is all done in fun and love for my favorite movies. Thank you for stopping by and reading.

Notes:  Did anyone believe I could do this story without Peggy Carter showing up? I honestly thought I could in the beginning…what was I thinking? This story is also getting a little more serious than where I originally intended it to go (blame Bucky’s story), I am still very much in love with this. Been having a blast writing this and living with my favorite movies.

Inspiration for this chapter:


9.

Colin shoves a gentle elbow into my side and says, “Hey, Buck. We’re almost there.”

My eyes open and take a moment to adjust to the light. I yawn and stretch myself into a somewhat state of awake. Sleeping on Colin’s shoulder was the best forty-five minutes of sleep I’ve had in such a long time. No nightmares. No Man in Blue. I almost feel like a new man.

“Go to the restroom and change,” Colin says, handing me the backpack and pointing to the small door at the back of the bus.

Bag in hand, I stand and climb over Colin—his grin turns on as I do. The narrow alley between seats is difficult to navigate as the bus continues on its path, warbling to and fro. I excuse myself as I hit a few elbows, avoiding all eye contact as I keep the forward momentum. When I get to the door, I slide it open and step inside.

The bathroom is the size of a fishbowl. Even with the paper-thin door closed, everything I do in here has got to be public knowledge. Nevertheless, I keep on my mission.

The backpack rests on the sink and I peel off my See You Latte shirt. I pull out a black t-shirt and study it. “Free Licks” whispers at me from faded grey letters. Colin’s shirt. I check the bag for the pre-approved red shirt I packed, but it’s gone.

With a huff that’s neither bothered nor upset, I slide Colin’s shirt on. My work pants are traded for a typical blue pair of jeans. I exchange the black work shoes to my boots. Everything shed is shoved into the backpack, a zrrp punctuating the urine scented air. Looking in the mirror, I pull the band free from my hair and let the strands fall, tucking the sides behind my ears. Dane is right, I should probably shave.

I slide the backpack up my arm and open the door. No one seems to notice that I’ve changed from my coffee jockey uniform. As a matter of fact, no one is looking at me at all. Well, take that back. One person has decided I’m worth a stare.

“My shirt does look good on you,” he utters as I climb over him into my seat.

“And where is my shirt?” I ask, settling the backpack on the floor between my feet.

Colin reaches up to the zipper on his grey sweatshirt and unzips it. Like a magician, my red shirt is revealed, the fabric taut against his chest. “Girls are always stealing my shirts, and you already saw me in ‘licks’ so I thought we could trade for the day.”

Well, if he’s going to put it that way….

“Now arriving at the Natick stop,” the bus driver announces over the intercom. “Natick, Massachusetts.”

The bus pulls into a small lane next to a quaint, white building, bearing the name “Bus” on a sign above in large blue letters. Colin nudges my arm and whispers, “Our stop.”

We disembark the bus. I sling the pack over my shoulder and slide the other strap up my arm until it’s supported properly against my back. I follow Colin out to the main street and down to the corner. He glances up at the sign and points across the street.

“We go to the next corner, cross, take a right then two buildings over to the museum.”

I nod and follow Colin. He pulls his phone from his pocket. I watch as he slides his finger across the screen. A square resembling paper gets a tap then he touches a title, “Buck’s notes”.

“I didn’t want this to be public which is why I’m doing this now instead of on the bus or at Latte. “ His finger flicks along the screen and he begins explaining to me what he found this morning. “Two Howling Commandos are still alive. Timothy Dugan, Dum Dum, is in Tennessee. I have yet to get an address or phone number for him. But, Gabriel Jones is still alive in a retirement home in Maryland, not too far from DC. I’ve already called and left a message. I’m hoping he’ll return the call soon. Um…I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the rest have passed. On the upside, I do have a few leads on their grandchildren. I’m also looking into members of the 107th. Sadly, that’s all I have to report for now.”

Colin reduces the note to a square again and turns off his phone. It slides into his pocket and he offers a sorrowful shrug.

I stop and pull his shoulder. He turns and I say, “I am amazed at what you’ve found so far. More than what I’ve accumulated these past few months. I…” …slipped up? …said too much? …broke my cover? Maybe he didn’t notice. “…thank you.”

We stand paused for a long moment, staring at each other. Colin has a thousand words on his lips, but he just nods and starts walking at a brisk pace, kicking through the brown leaves blowing across the concrete path.

I tuck my hands in my pockets and watch the sidewalk pass under my feet and try to assimilate why we had that awkward pause. Why he’s not flirting with me today. Dread suffocates me as I realize…

He discovered the real me in his research and my words only aided him in his realization.

“After the museum, would you like to grab a bite?” I force the words out, testing how deep this fear is seated.

“Yeah. Your treat?”

“Of course. That’s our deal.”

He catches me in the corner of his eyes. “It is…” A deep breath leaves him and I can’t determine if it’s relief or stress that forces it out of him. But then, he adds a smirk and that long, drawn out “Buck” and my world feels right again.

As brief as a reprieve from my worries as it is.

The museum is bustling when we arrive. A school group is lining up near a giant screen. Large words at the top proclaim “Welcome Back, Cap – President Matthew Ellis” just above a video of a waving American flag. Next to it, a wall is painted blue announcing the title of the exhibit—Captain America: The Living Legend and a Symbol of Courage—then in small letters it announces: on loan from the Smithsonian. A recording begins to speak: “A symbol to the nation, a hero to the world…”

Colin jogs over to a small window on the side of the and lifts two fingers, reaching for his pocket. He exchanges some bills for two red, white, and blue cards that mimic the circles and star of the Man in Blue’s shield. He walks back to me and extends one of the cards my way. “Your ticket for the exhibit, Buck.”

I take it from him and utter, “Thanks,” as I stare at the design that’s been permanently engraved into my mind since the helicarrier fight. I flap it against my hand a few times and take a deep breath, then follow Colin to the entrance. He removes his ball cap and flashes his ticket. I follow suit, showing the usher my own ticket.

The exhibit was more about him, the Man in Blue…Captain America, than the Howling Commandos. The life and history of Steve Rogers from sickly, weak, and undersized to tall, handsome, and the soldier I currently know. This would be the jackpot as far as all my research goes, but as I stare at the awkward man in the black and white image, I can’t place him with certainty at any point in my life. The more I stare, the more I question ever knowing him before.

“That’s the guy with the great caboose?” Colin asks in a whisper at my ear. He spins the hat in his hands and shakes his head. “Doesn’t even look like the same guy I found in my searches, does he?”

No.

Colin tugs on my jacket sleeve. “Come on, Buck. The Commandos have to be around here somewhere.”

Right before my eyes, through the color images on walls and the black and white ones on glass, I watch Steve Rogers turn from that unrecognizable kid into the man I fought, though they’re telling me he was this guy back in World War II, through archive images and movies.

“Battle tested, Captain America and his Howling Commandos quickly earned their stripes,” the voice says, greeting us as we turn the corner. “Their Mission: Taking down HYDRA, the Nazi rogue science division.”

The display shows my mission, next to him on his right, Dum Dum—from what I remember Google telling us—and more Commandos. On his left is me in another line of fighters. Before the image stand mannequins wearing their clothing—my clothing—from WWII. In the center, below Captain America and his regal, squared jaw, sits a shield like something a Knight of the Round Table would carry. On it is a plaque reading:  Captain America’s original uniform was stolen from the display in Washington DC before the skirmish. It is believed by many to have been reclaimed by the Captain himself, Steve Rogers, who still fights for honor and freedom for many around the world.

Colin reads the plaque and glances up at the images. “It’s so eerie how much he resembles you, Buck. I mean…”

I clear my throat and send a quick scouting glance around the room. Children linger before each display. A man with a scarred left eye, wearing a black hooded sweatshirt, casually strolls into the next area of the display.

“…your hair color is spot on. And those eyes…”

Another man in a suit has a white coiled wire going from his ear into his jacket. He’s speaking, though there’s no one near him listening.

“…they’re playful, soulful just like yours. That mouth…”

Then I notice one of the adults lingering near a tour group turn and cast a glance my way. He’s muscular, dark hair, dark eyes, wearing the expression of a man who enjoys taking a life and won’t regret it for a second.

“…quirking up at the corners as though you’re harboring the best secret in the world…”

He was a HYDRA co-op. What was his name? Rumlow? It doesn’t matter if I can remember him, the deathly light in his eyes definitely recognize me.

The man pretends not to notice me, but I see his eyes follow me as I step away from Colin. The other man with the wire in his ear leans over and tells a kid to stop touching the exhibits with a loud, authoritative voice as though he’s museum security. His eyes remain glued to me, though.

New Mission: Don’t let them catch me.

“…almost like you want to laugh…Where are we going?”

I grab Colin’s hand and drag him towards a set of double doors at the opposite end of the room. Colin and I burst through the doors into a small theater. I choose two empty seats in the recessed corner of the darkened room, though my soldier instincts are taking in the locations of all possible exits and keeping an eye on the primary entrance.

The lights go down further and the projector sends a beam of white through the floating dust motes. A quick pattering sound from the projector mutes behind a woman’s voice. “That was a difficult winter,” she says with a British accent.

The voice punches me in the gut with a fist. I take my eyes from the door to the screen. A woman with bright red lips and dark hair sits in a golden sweater, talking about a mission that I don’t recall. Across the bottom of the screen, “Agent Peggy Carter, SSR” labels who she is, “New York, 1953” indicates the time. She elaborates how Steve Rogers was the brave soul to save the 1000 men—her future husband included—from behind enemy lines. How he affected her life. How she founded S.H.I.E.L.D.

“Peggy Carter,” I whisper into the darkness. The name is this song playing in my brain, but I can’t remember the words or the melody with precision. Something about her makes my stomach get riled, my teeth clench, and my hands ball into fists. Something about the name rests in me like a threat greater than HYDRA and all of her men.

Colin leans closer to me, hat still spinning in his hands. “If she knew Steve Rogers, then she had to have known your grandfather. We should look her up and see if she’s still alive.”

Maybe.

From the corner of my eye, I see a white line as the door starts to separate from the wall. I grab Colin’s hat and stick it on my head. Colin leans closer and asks, “What are you do—?”

I cover his mouth with my hand. “Kiss me,” I beg under my breath.

Colin’s eyebrows lift. “You want me to…what?”

White is growing between the door and the wall. I see a black covered muscular arm holding a Glock 19. Rumlow. Definitely his brand of firearm.

There’s no time to think. I give my lips a quick dousing as I pull him closer to me. I plant my lips to his, keeping my eyes on the man sneaking into the theater from under the brim of Colin’s hat. The operative takes the time to scan over the audience made up of mostly school children. His eyes crawl along to our dark corner.

My eyes fall shut and I kiss Colin as though this will be my last kiss ever. My fingers brush through his light brown hair as our tongues meet for the first time. Thrill runs through my veins speeding faster than my pulse. Fireworks spark behind my eyelids as Colin stops pushing me away and starts pulling me in. His hand finds my cheek and slides along my jaw to hold me still. My eyes pop open in time to see Rumlow leaving the room.

Colin and I gasp for air as I break the seal of our lips. White dots of Peggy Carter on the screen reflect in his dark eyes. He blinks and takes a breath. “Buck,” he heaves in a whisper, “if I had known you felt that way…Today would have been much different.”

Sure. Now he says that. Note to self.

And Colin pulls me to him and kisses me again. This time he’s the one that pulls away and utters, “Later, definitely,” and playfully tugs on the brim of his Red Sox hat, returning his attention to the movie of the woman who claimed to be an integral part of Steve’s life.

His first life.

I’m not mentioned once.


First Chapter

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter


End Notes: Thank you for reading!

Images are screencapped from my digital copy of Captain America: Winter Soldier.

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Filed under Chris Evans, fanfiction, Hey 6B, the fangirling has made it here

#AmEditing, #AmListening, #AmReading, #AmWatching

#AmFeelingLikeAMajorGoofOff right now.

Only two chapters edited for today, so far. But, the upside of this time’s editing process…I have yet to fall into the story! Meaning I am getting some real work done on Wings by sticking to the random chapter rule. It’s GREAT! I have no idea why I never thought of doing this before…

While #AmEditing, I #AmListening to the new Panic! at the Disco album, Death of a Bachelor. Pure Panic! at it’s best! The songs are so eclectic and different and yet so familiar and loved. Best song? IDK. Depends on my mood, though I will say a few songs are definitely stuck in my head, though.

I do not listen while #AmReading, though.

Especially with the new find…that I’m not quite sure what to make of yet. The Oddfits by Tiffany Tsao. {on Goodreads here}

I’m just over 30% complete with it (according to the bottom corner of my Kindle) and I’ve felt enraged, teary, and starving to death. Murgatroyd Floyd…something about that name…I LOVE IT, and honestly, it was something that drew me to the book to begin with. I’m so very curious to see where this story goes. Because, as of now, I don’t have a single clue.

And when I’m not editing, listening, or reading, I #AmWatching a few shows. There’s X-Files…which brings that feeling of needing to be paranoid about everything back to the forefront, Lucifer, still looking for the first half of season 6 of Pretty Little Liars, waiting for the new season of Baby Daddy (and watching reruns of the episodes I’ve just watched), and my favorite of them all right now:

AGENT CARTER.

Not because she’s related to Cap. Okay, so because she’s related to Cap, but so much more: fantastic storylines, so much humor, Easter eggs, and awesome that is not limited to Peggy herself, but she is the tops. (oh…don’t pick up 1940s lingo…don’t…) Two episodes into the sophomore season of Agent Carter and I want season three like now! I LOVE THIS SHOW SO MUCH!

I will admit, I did tear up while watching the second episode of the season. All because Peggy danced with a Jason Wilkes and I thought of Winter Soldier when Cap/Steve goes to visit a bed-ridden Peggy and says:

Even now…*tears*…If you don’t tear up at that…then I don’t know.
They never got their dance.

Ah well…*sniffle*…must get back to editing so I can enjoy some Peggy Carter awesome tonight! Hope all is well with you all!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Thanks for reading! This post filed under: editing, music, fangirling and random blathering.

All images are mine. All gifs found on giphy.com

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Filed under book covers, books that speak, editing hell, keeping entertained, on the book shelf, random blathering, the fangirling has made it here, wings, writer's procrastination