[WWII AU] you and your baby went to town

[from_the_outside]

Waiting for Bucky's day off has been as difficult as waiting for Christmas used to be when she was a kid. And it doesn't help that they just don't seem to be able to manage time alone together after the mission – not enough of it, anyway. A few stolen kisses here and there are all she gets, even as she feels like she's burning up from pure want.

When he finally tells her, grinning, that he's gotten another R&R day, she spends the next few days in a haze of relieved anticipation. Not just at the thought of finally being able to touch him, but just because she loves spending the time with him. She knows it's a bad idea, knows it's only going to hurt so much worse down the line, but she can't stop herself, and she doesn't want to.

She doesn't ride with him into town this time. Instead, he'd told her to meet him at the little chapel he'd shown her earlier. Wilkins is happy to give her a lift, after she spends extra time and care on her hair and makeup and clothes – the civilian outfit he likes so much and which Lorraine had tried to ruin. 

She's right on time as she walks into the little chapel and looks around for him. "Bucky?"

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[nerves_of_ice]

He’s been in and around the little town since catching a ride in with the dawn supply run. It had given him the chance to duck Peggy before she could come up with something else for him to do, and to see to a few things that he’s been thinking about since he asked Sharon to wait, promising her the kind of care she deserves.

Bucky’s coming down the woods path behind the chapel when he sees her enter, and picks up his pace so that he goes inside no more than a minute or so later.

“Sharon.” His smile warms at the sight of her. “Aren’t you just a vision?”

[from_the_outside]

She turns and smiles at him over her shoulder. "Look who's talking," she says, amused, and walks toward him, her smile broadening.

"Hi, soldier boy." She stops in front of him and smiles up into his face. "Want some company?"

[nerves_of_ice]

“I’d like nothing more,” he promises, and offers her his arm. “Go for a walk with me, pretty lady?”

[from_the_outside]

"I'd love to."

She slips her hand into the crook of his elbow and comes to stroll by his side. "Where are we headed? Or is it a secret?"

[nerves_of_ice]

“Well, there’s a little clearing I found near here,” he explains, as he leads her around the chapel. “And it’s a pretty walk. I thought it might be just the spot for a picnic.”

[from_the_outside]

"A picnic?"

She looks up at him, her eyes sparkling. "How romantic. That sounds great."

[nerves_of_ice]

Bucky beams down at her, drawing her a little closer to his side. “This way,” he murmurs, and walks with her along the forest path.

He’d made sure it wasn’t too overgrown earlier, having found it weeks ago when he was checking locations near camp for any that might be beneficial to a sniper in case of trouble. The pretty little clearing lies open to rays of the tree-dappled sunlight, and he’s spread a makeshift cloth made of old burlap sacks - old, but clean, obtained from the tiny one-room cottage on the other side of the clearing.

It hadn’t seemed that anyone had been there for a year or more, at least, when he’d found it. Maybe they’d left before the war; maybe they’d gone during, as so many had. He’s always been a city boy; he’s not sure. But he’d remembered it, and been glad to do so.

The cloth is set with a picnic basket to the side, and a bouquet of wildflowers fresh-picked lying on top of it.

[from_the_outside]

She can't help the gasp of surprise that escapes her as they come along the path toward the little clearing. He'd set it up so perfectly, from the neat cloth on the ground to the basket with its bunch of wildflowers. "Baby," she murmurs, looking around at the dappled clearing. "I can't believe you did all this. It's perfect."

Sharon looks up at him, beaming. "This is so nice."

[nerves_of_ice]

He leans down to give her a light kiss, then grins at her and spins her around in an impromptu dance step toward the picnic area.

“I hoped you’d like it.”

[from_the_outside]

She laughs and lets him spin her, stepping lightly over the sun-dappled grass. "I like it," she promises, and kisses him again, delighted to be able to do so here in the daylight.

"I like it a lot."

[nerves_of_ice]

“I’m glad.” He kisses her back and holds her close for a moment, then pulls back and leads her over to the cloth. Bucky bends down to grab the flowers and presents the bouquet to her with a charming smile.

[from_the_outside]

She accepts them with a laugh and lifts them to sniff their fragrance. "They're beautiful," she says, honestly. "Did you pick these?"

[nerves_of_ice]

“I did,” he admits. “I’ve explored around here a bit.”

[from_the_outside]

"Well, they're gorgeous," she says, smiling. "You've got great taste."

And he's impossibly sweet. She's never been so charmed. Sharon gives him a teasing smile. "Should we sit down?"

[nerves_of_ice]

“Make yourself comfortable,” he invites, as he goes down on one knee by the basket and opens it up. Bucky lifts out an unlabeled bottle with a golden liquid inside and two glasses and grins at her.

“Wine?”

[from_the_outside]

She lowers herself to sit on her hip, leaning on one hand with the flowers in the other as she watches him, then laughs at his question.

"Yes, please," she agrees, sitting up and setting the flowers aside. "Where the hell did you find wine?"

[nerves_of_ice]

“Remember last time I pointed out Armand and Jean-Claude?” he laughs, uncorking the bottle. “Armand needed something to do after retiring. He offered me a glass once in appreciation for being willing to answer questions about New York and listen to his opinions, so I dropped by earlier to ask a favor.”

Bucky pours the first glass for her and hands it over, then pours one for himself and carefully nestles the bottle back in the corner of the basket. “Can’t vouch for how it compares to what you’re used to, but it’s something, anyway.”

[from_the_outside]

She laughs and accepts the glass, admiring the way the sunlight glows through the golden liquid. "It sure is," she agrees. "I've never had homemade wine before, but I'm sure it'll be delicious."

She waits until he pours a glass for himself, then lifts hers to him in a small toast. "To your day off."

[nerves_of_ice]

“To our time together,” he murmurs, and touches his glass to hers, watching her over the top of it with a warm smile before he takes a sip.

[from_the_outside]

She smiles at that and sips at her wine, which sings brightly against her tastebuds, dry and a little floral. "Oh, that's good," she says, lifting her glass again to look at it.

"That's really nice."

[nerves_of_ice]

“Armand’s got a gift,” he agrees, easily. Mischief dances in his eyes. “Maybe it goes with being French.”

[from_the_outside]

"Maybe," she laughs, and takes another sip before she lowers the glass to her side to give him a teasing glance.

"But you really can't beat a picnic out in the French countryside, sipping wine with the most handsome guy in two time periods."

[nerves_of_ice]

He smiles, quick and bright and shining. “I wanted you to have a nice time,” he says, and tilts the picnic basket a little so she can see into it.

“I brought more than just wine. Nothing too fancy, I’m afraid, but the bread’s fresh-baked this morning and the cheese is amazing, I promise.

[from_the_outside]

"Who needs fancy when they've got all this?"

She looks around the pretty little clearing, then watches him, admiring the way the sunlight glances down off his hair and clothing. "It's perfect, Bucky, seriously."

[nerves_of_ice]

“So are you,” he murmurs, watching the way she watches him. “You knocked me for a loop, angel.”