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Peggy Carter is a smart woman.
This is precisely why she is concerned. She'd seen how close Captain Rogers walked to one of the men he'd rescued, undoubtedly the one he'd nearly gone off half-cocked to save by himself: James Buchanan Barnes. Steve had explained they were childhood friends, but the way Bucky looked at Steve had her wondering if there was something more to that story.
This is part of what brought her here, saying hello to the Captain while his friend stands idly by.
The bar is smoky and dimly lit, a song tinkering away on the piano, the lyrics, sad. Peggy stands there in her red dress, knowing she looks like a million bucks. Steve stands across from her, bashful and warm as always. And Bucky stands a little off to her right, face in shadow, watching her uneasily, shifting as though he's been threatened.
Peggy relishes the rapport of dialogue between her and Captain Rogers, the way his bashfulness gives way to wit and charm. She is here to reassure him of her affections, to see if perhaps he feels the same. She's pretty sure he does. But she is also wondering if-
Ah. There he is: "What're you waiting for?"
Peggy practically smells the bitterness lingering in the air; the edge to his voice could cut her ears. It's on the edge of her tongue to stare meaningfully into Steve's eyes and say "the right partner" without even dignifying his friend with a response, but her curiosity is peaked. She gives a good-natured eye roll and turns to his friend. "Do you really think you could handle me?"
Bucky smirks darkly and looks her up and down, eyes purposely lingering on her curves. Curiously, his eyes flick over her shoulder before he meets her eyes. "Oh, I could handle you, Miss Carter."
Peggy raises her eyebrows. "All right. Let's give it a try."
Bucky leers, chin tilting up a notch. "Your place or mine?"
"The dance floor, Mister Barnes. See if you can keep up." She promptly leads the way, swaying her hips as she goes. She doesn't bother looking behind her to check that he's following; she knows.
"Knew you couldn't resist me," he says, taking her hand and pressing their bodies more tightly together than necessary.
"Keep that up and you'll have a knee to the groin."
Bucky smiles tightly and starts stepping in time to the music. Despite his stiff muscles, his body flows along with the music effortlessly.
"You're a talented dancer," Peggy observes.
Bucky's tight smile becomes a tight leer. "That's not all I'm talented at."
"I'm sure." She allows him to lead her around the dance floor, much as she'd like to lead. He needs to feel some semblance of power during this conversation. "I heard you and Captain Rogers were childhood friends."
The smile disappears from Bucky's face. "That's right."
"Must have been wonderful, growing up together. Was he always so reckless?"
The first shred of warmth she's seen since the last time he looked at Captain Rogers flickers in Bucky's eyes as he glances off into space, mouth curling up at the corners. "Yeah," he admits.
"You must have helped him out of all sorts of scrapes."
Bucky snorts and rolls his eyes. "You have no idea."
"I think I do." Peggy smiles. "It must have been odd, having the tables turned. Him rescuing you."
His gaze sharpens. His mouth twitches. He forces it into a smile. "Bout time. He owed me anyway."
"I'm sure he did." Peggy's own eyes are kept carefully friendly, so he doesn't notice her prying, taking in every minute shift in his expression. "And I'm sure you thanked the Captain for your rescue."
Bucky grunts, letting his smile drop.
"Just as I'm sure," she continues, "that he told you not to thank him and that he would have done it for anybody."
"You sure know Stevie," Bucky says in a voice that could cut lead. Or perhaps corrode it.
"I do," she allows, "but not as well as you."
"Damn straight."
She dances with him silently for a few moments, watching as his eyes wander throughout the room. There's one corner in particular he keeps checking. Sure enough, when she glances over there, Steve is hunched over a table, watching them dance.
"You care a great deal for the Captain, don't you."
Bucky startles. Their eyes meet. The surprise- fear?- panic?- fades from his eyes and is covered with a bitter smile. "How'd you guess?"
"Well partly because you're childhood friends. And partly because you haven't stopped staring at him since you got here."
This hit a nerve; vulnerability flickers across his features. "...He used to be smaller," he explains.
"Yes he did," Peggy agrees. "His new body has taken some getting used to."
That sharp stare cracks at her eyes like a whip. "What do you know about Steve's body?" he snarls.
Peggy backs down a bit. "Only what I've read from his medical files. Seems a miracle he's still alive, much less in the army."
The anger fades slowly as this sinks in, but never entirely dissipates. "You have no idea."
"It must have been terrifying, caring so much for somebody so fragile."
Bucky snorts. "Steve's not fragile."
Peggy remains silent and waits for Bucky to continue.
His mouth twitches up at the corner. "Dumb punk got his ass kicked on a near-daily basis. Was always recovering from one illness just in time to come down with another.."
"But the serum cured all that."
A bitter laugh. "It may have cured diseases, but it didn't cure his stupid."
"You took care of him, I'm guessing?"
Their eyes meet again. He seems unsure whether he should tell her something. "..Yeah. I did."
She offers him a half-smile. "And you're still taking care of him?"
His eyes darken with a new emotion: sadness. "He doesn't need me anymore."
"Of course he does. Captain Rogers needs you as much as he ever did."
"I wish that was true." He looks away again.
"No, he does. You should have seen his face when he heard about the 107th. He was ready to storm across enemy lines by himself to save you, just on the mere chance that you were alive. It was all I could do to stop him."
Bucky's brows furrow.
"Well," she amends, "to offer him a ride anyway. And a way back out."
"So that was you?"
"Yes. Did he not tell you?"
Bucky snorts. "No."
"Hmm. Well, yes, that was me. Had the plan worked out, you would have all had a ride back to camp, and wouldn't have had to walk all that way. But the communication device he was holding broke."
The first traces of a genuine smile line Bucky's lips. "Yeah. That idiot jumped across-- you know what? You don't even want to know."
"Good thing you were there, sounds like he made quite the daring rescue."
"He wanted me to leave without him! That idiot was ready to sacrifice his life for me. And look what he got..."
"A loyal friend?"
Bucky makes a non-committal noise and looks over to the corner where Steve sits, now chatting with a friend.
"..More of a brother, perhaps?" she guesses, but even as she says it, even as his eyes flick to hers and then back to Steve again, as the incredulous expression twists Bucky's features before he looks away... she already knows. "Or.. something else."
His eyes snap back to hers.
"You don't like me very much, do you Mister Barnes?"
His mouth twists. "Can't say I do."
"Because of the way he feels about me."
His eyes narrow. "Because of the way you feel about him."
"It's more than just a protective older brother thing, isn't it." An odd prickle of dread runs through her because she already knows.
"What does it matter how I feel?" he hisses. "I ain't a beautiful dame. I don't have Steve drooling after me like some lovesick puppy. What I'm tryin' to figure out is whether he likes you because you're such a looker, or because you're the only dame that's ever given Steve the time of day. What I'm tryin' to figure out is whether you only took interest in Captain Handsome over there because of his shiny new muscles, or whether you've always seen him as special, always knew he could take out an entire Nazi army single-handed if he wanted to, always knew he was ten times the man any other guy is in here, or anywhere else for that matter-- What I'm tryin' to figure out is why are you even asking me about this when he clearly has chosen you."
Peggy's eyes scan Bucky's face as her fears are confirmed. "Because he's not." She swallows. "He hasn't."
His grip on her is brutal. She's going to have bruises in the morning. "What do you mean, he hasn't," he growls.
Peggy winces, she can't help it. His fingers are pressing too hard. "He hasn't chosen me," she relents.
"What the hell do you mean by that!" His voice is just a hair too loud; a few people glance in their direction.
"I mean he still might. But from where I stand, he's just as much chosen you. Think about it, James. He charged thirty miles behind enemy lines with no backup just on the chance that you were alive. He hasn't left your side since you got back. And if I'm right, he's probably watching you right now."
She holds back from looking in Steve's direction, watches Bucky look over there instead. His eyes soften.
That's all the confirmation she needs. "Look," she begins. His eyes drift back over. "I know how much he means to you, because I know how much he means to me. But I'm not going to fight you for him. If he wants to be with you, I won't stop him."
His mouth twists into a lopsided, bitter smile. "Givin' up already?"
"Hardly. I just want Steve to be happy."
They dance in an odd sort of truce for a few measures, Bucky watching Steve more often than Peggy.
"...You know he's gonna end up picking you, right?" He's pulled her close so she can't see his face, but she can hear the tightness in his voice.
"I don't, actually."
He huffs a humorless laugh. "Come on, Carter. You know that's not the way the world works. You like dames? You end up marrying a dame. And I have it on good authority that Steve likes dames."
"What about you?"
Bucky steps away and gives her a little bow. "Been a pleasure." He sounds like it was anything but. He straightens and plasters that cocky smile on his face, swaggers over to Steve. Steve stops fidgeting with his empty glass and immediately asks Bucky something, which makes him laugh as he sits down. Soon their heads are bent close together, bodies angled towards each other, as they exchange warm, familiar conversation of which Peggy is not a part. Despite her name undoubtedly being tossed in there, she is a definite outsider to the conversation.
It's just as she suspected: James Buchanan Barnes is in love with Steve Rogers.
She catches Steve's eye and sends him a smile. He warmly smiles back, before his attention is once again stolen by Bucky. She's never seen Steve laugh like that before.
Well, she concedes, it's not completely hopeless.
Just because she's not going to fight doesn't mean she's not going to try.
