1943-06-18 - Back of the Convoy
Summary: Back in the SSR and Howling Commando days, Peggy Carter and Bucky Barnes share some actually friendly words.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
bucky peggy 


So, once upon a time in the middle of France in the middle of the war, Captain America and the Howling Commandos, including the *other* guy from Brooklyn who is straight up still burnt that Steve got to leapfrog right up into officer country while he is still slogging along as a mere sergeant, and of course, the lovely, the talented, the wears eyeliner better than any of them (though Buck will give her a run for her money in a couple of decades) Peggy Carter are all on their merry way to a lovely old chateau that is rumored to be in use as a field HQ for HYDRA.

At the moment, they're bumping along country roads on a lovely summer evening. One might even excuse the boom of artillery in the distance as the thunder that comes from heat lightning, when the puffs of smoke in the darkening sky are hidden by the truck's cover. Cap is in the lead car. The truck has a handful of commandos, most of whom are sleeping, draped in whatever position they can manage among the gear. Buck's awake, though, and idly trying to do coin tricks with a Vichy franc coin. Mostly he's dropping and picking it up again, entirely undismayed. As per usual, there's that hint of a smile playing around his eyes and mouth.

*

Peg doesn't sleep on these missions. Maybe a few stolen hours in the corner near a camp fire when they stop for the night, but even then, it seems she's always mama ducking over all of them. Even if she's younger than a good few of the men and a woman. She doesn't get to talk her way into *coming* on a lot of these, but they needed someone other than Jones who spoke fluent French and a code breaker, so she managed to convince the higher ups to let her along. It might be the excitement alone of being able to be in the field that keeps her awake, but her eyes aren't excited child. They are protective guardian, even in this time.

After checking on the driver of their truck, she carefully picks her way over a few of the men, accidentally half kicking Dugan in the side which just gets a muttered groan and a louder snore. She smiles wider. Eventually, she makes it back to Bucky on the sheer notice that he's awake. Some conversation to be had. "I'm sure in another five months you'll be able to dance it across all four of your knuckles and not just two before you drop it." She teases him in that light British accent.

*

Buck tends to look, when not actually in the heat of combat, like the fox who's finagled the key to the henhouse. Even though the day to come pretty much holds the prospects only of either boredom or bloodshed. He grins at her when she approaches. "Here's hoping in another five months I won't have to be in France trying to, much as I like it here. Worst case, Berlin. Best case, already back in Brooklyn," he opines, even as he's still trying. Working the left hand, the one that'll be gone for good inside a few months.

*

The woman perches almost dangerously on the very back edge of the bench across the convoy, so her leg is half hanging out the open back flap. She doesn't seem to have any fear that they are going to hit a particularly awful pothole and toss her out the back. Peggy has a decent grip on the edge of the bench, at least, and is happy for the fresh air. "Mm… Berlin, possibly… Back in the underground in England? Maybe. Brooklyn… well…" She only half winces, "From all the projections, I would not hold your breath. But we might be able to get leave inside of a few months. I know some lovely pubs…."

*

That makes his eyes light. "You could introduce 'em to me," he suggests, grinning at her sidelong. "And a man can hope," he adds, looking out at the road reeling itself off behind them. "Never know how it'll work out." The coin continues - one, two, three…..*clink*. He bends and scoops it up again.

*

As the coin moves to drop, Peggy is so damned fast. She was just as trained as any of the men, more than some, and she catches it mid air before twirling it between her fingertips and making it suddenly appear held smoothly between pointer and middle finger. She offers it back to him with a smile that is both trouble and pride. "Careful not to lose that, James Barnes… No clue when you'll see another. You might need it for a drink if we find a proper pub." She winks teasingly.

*

"I'd better spend it before it's worth nothin',' he admits, sunnily. "Vichy government's days are numbered." There's a wolfish cheerfulness in his face at the thought. "And call me Bucky. People say James Barnes, I start lookin' around for my grandpa." He takes the coin, vanishes it, exposes each hand and wrist in turn with that theatrical flair. Nothing up his sleeves."

*

As he actually does manage the magic trick of making it vanish, Peggy allows a genuine laugh to escape her lips. For just a moment. It was a rare thing, she was normally so fierce around them, so determined to prove herself. But that pleasantly surprised her. "Bucky, then. I… suppose, when we are off duty, like this, you can call me Peggy. But only then. Can't have those boys getting it into their heads that I'm one of you dullards." She teases him lightly.

*

There's that crooked grin that broke so many hearts among the maidens of the Five Boroughs, proffered with its usual confidence in response to that laugh, despite Peggy's firm refusals. "You got way too much class to be mistaken for any of us," he teases.

*

That grin actually earns a half smile back from Peggy and a slight shake of her head, "You're trouble, aren't you, Bucky? Know just the right things to say to sweet talk the ladies, and a smile like that?…Mm. Such trouble." It's said in a tone that says she is giving him a compliment as much as a warning. Peggy Carter is far too smart to fall for trouble! Besides, he might catch the flicker of a look head from her. Looking at the back of Steve's head in the very front of the car. That's the man which makes her smile like part of her is melting.

*

Clive follows her gaze with his own, and makes no secret of it at all. Some of that light dims a bit, but the amusement doesn't. It only softens. "I've had my share," he allows. "….and in some cases, been someone else's share, if you know what I mean. But I know when I've already been beat," he allows, oh so casually, making the coin reappear.

*

"Mm?" Peggy asks, having actually been momentarily distracted by the back of Steve's hair alone. She shakes it off, her brain catching up to the words he's said. A small chuckle, "…I suppose. For what it's worth, he charmed me before we ever came back over here. That scrawny little… damned determined, stubborn man who walked in Dr. Erskine's office. He was…" Peggy falls quiet, silent for a few heartbeats, lost in the memory. It might be the first time that Bucky realizes that the man she's fallen in love with *isn't* Captain America. She'e been in love since skinny Steve Rogers.

*

"You don't have to tell me about Steve Rogers's better qualities," he retorts, but there's laughter in his voice. "Believe me, I've been backing him up in fights since I was ten. It's only now he's got a body to match the heart, is all. More power to him."

*

"…I think that's why it worked, you know?" Peggy admits quietly, returning dark eyes to the handsome Brooklyn boy at her side. "They wanted to make a whole team of super soldiers. Project Rebirth… But… even if Dr. Erskine hadn't been killed, I don't think it would have worked. It took someone like Steve… not just a damned formula. He… he is certainly something special. And I am glad you are still alive to back him up. He needs it too. He can't do this alone."

*

"Even though he thinks he can," Buck's voice is almost a sigh, and for the first time, there's something less than sunny assurance in his face. "And….I think you're right. I don't like the thought of someone with those abilities without that conscience behind it." It's almost grim, in fact. "But rumor says that's one of the things we're going to look for in this chateau we're heading for - HYDRA's working on an answer to him."

*

That last line makes Peggy look a touch more grim. It's her business face. She sighs, leaning back against the convoy's tarp wall and digging into the pocket for her little silver cigarette case. She pulls out half a fag she's been keeping for some other times, just toying with it between her fingertips. She wasn't supposed to give the information. SOmeone had been speaking rumors already. "… There is a doctor in HYDRA, probably the one that tried to steal the formula from Howard when… when we'd just succeeded with Steve… He has something like it. Yes. Rumors were he was working out of this house, taking french prisoners for… Experiments. I suspect teh chateau is abandoned but… there may be papers left behind. Proof."

*

Another bit of irony, that he'll eventually be one of the 'answers' to Steve Rogers. All the humor dies out of his face, then - he suddenly looks much older. "I wish I could say that surprises me, but it doesn't," he allows, voice low. "It sounds like them. And god knows we've made him a visible figure…" He shoots a fierce look at the back of Steve's head. The hedgerows of Normandy are a far cry from the back alleys of Brooklyn, but James Barnes'll be where he is, making sure no bullies dare lay a hand on Steve. EVen if these are heavily armed bullies with tanks and swastikas.

*

As Peggy catches sight of that look, her hand comes out, resting just a moment on James Barnes' arm. It's not a seductive touch at all, but it's warm. Supportive. She tilts her head a bit closer. "He'll be alright, James. He's got this. Because he has you behind him, and the rest of these men." And her. The look in her eyes is one he might know. She's loyal to the very end. "And *together*, you all can handle anything. I've confidence in that." She clips out gently, no smile on her lips. This isn't a pep talk. It's a confession.

*

"Well," he says, reaching for that veneer of humor and only partially succeeding, "Steve and I were doing just fine until we got thrown in with *this* pack of jokers." Dumdum, face still shaded by his hat and apparently asleep, gives Bucky the one-fingered salute. "But I figure, even with them, we'll get through this."

*

"Steve chose this pack of jokers, thank you very much, and you all work very well together. Don't pretend you don't care, Sergeant Barnes. Lies don't look good on you." Peggy is only half teasing him there. SHe can see through the jokes, that veneer of humor doesn't work on her, just like his flirting doesn't. She finally sticks the half a cigarette between her lips and starts digging around for her lighter. HOpefully it still had fluid.

*

He holds up first one hand, then another. Look, nothing up my sleeve. And then a gesture produces a battered Zippo, which he hands off to her, without a word. But the grin softens, turns less vulpine. "That's the one thing Steve's really good at," he allows. "Choosing friends. And people to fight alongside him. Chose me, didn't he?"

*

"First. He chose you first. I know. And yes. He's very good at choosing good people." Peggy admits softly, the closest thing she'll ever come to actually complementing Bucky Barnes, but it was honest from her. The wry smile returns as the zippo appears in his hands. "Show off." She teases him in that husky British clip. Then she accepts the zippo and smoothly lights up, taking in a few deep breaths of it to get the cherry going before handing the lighter back.

*

"Only the real goods here, lady," he teases her, in that broad Brooklyn accent. The closest thing she'll come to complimenting him to his face: the eulogy she'll deliver in 1944 will be kind, after all. "That's his talent. He makes everyone around him want to be better," he notes, as he finds his own rather squashed packet of Luckies, shakes one out.

*

Another deep drag of her cigarette and Peggy's eyes dare to slide shut a few moments. She might actually be relaxing around Bucky Barnes, god forbid the day. "Mm… I guess you aren't quite so awful and arrogant as I thought, Bucky Barnes. Stop it. Keep this up and I might grow to like you." SHe scoffs huskily, though her smile completely betrays any of the salt on those words.

*

He spreads his hands with a look of wide-eyed innocence. "What, my being friends with Steven isn't enough to prove I'm a sterling soul?" he retorts, before laying one hand over his heart. "Miss Carter, I do declare, you wound me."

*

"No one's perfect. I have heard things about Brooklyn boys like you. Warned all the ladies in the SOE about your sort." Peggy gives him a small wink. But then the convoy is starting to slow down. They are getting closer and that means men are waking up. All the casual warmth that was in her a heartbeat ago immediately disappears, back stiffer, shoulders straight, "About go time, soldier. Finish that up and wake up Dugan before he swallows his own tongue." And she's swinging back up front to help take command with the driver.

*

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