When two worlds collide.

Alive.

"I'll be back later." I state.

"Where are you going?" Draco yawns, pulling his arm around me and dragging me down onto his lap.

"You guys know Bucky, right?" I look at them.

"Oh yeah." Ginny nods.

"Turns out he's my father." I quickly stand up.

"NO WAY!" They gasp.

"Yeah, see you later!" I close the door behind me as I walk out.

"Come on kid." Bucky smiles, walking besides me.

"Wait..- so do I call you dad now or..?" I look up at him.

"Whatever you're comfortable with doll." He chuckles.

"Okay.." I smile. "Where are we going?"

"We're going to a restaurant...then we're going to my favourite ice cream parlour." He smiles.

"Sound great." I state, looking up at him.

. . .

We went to a restaurant and they only spoke Romanian. It was a Romanian restaurant of course.

"Masă pentru doi?" The waiter smiles.

(Table for two?)

"Da." Bucky nods.

(Yes.)

He leads us to a table besides the window and sits us down, giving us menus.

"I'm Romanian...so that makes you Half Romanian, your mother was Russian so you're also half Russian. You have a little bit of both of us." He states, looking down at the menu.

"I don't want anything to do with my so called mother. I much prefer to stay as far away from her as possible." I scoff, reading all the different types of dishes.

"Masă pentru doi?" The waiter walks over, notepad and pen in hand.

(Ready to order?)

Bucky looks at me and I nod.

"Voi avea friptura cu piure de cartofi și sos de piper, iar pentru a bea o să iau o cola." I sigh, looking up at the waiter as he writes it down.

(i'll have the steak with mashed potatoes and pepper sauce, and to drink I'll take a cola.)

"Cum ți-ar plăcea carnea gătită?" He questions.

(How would you like the meat cooked?)

"Hmm...Mediu bine."

(Medium well.)

He scribbles on the pad before looking at Bucky who was glaring at me in shock.

"Și pentru dumneavoastră, domnule?"

(And for you, sir?)

Bucky starts to order his and I draw my attention to the scenery outside. The green grass brightened by the different coloured flowers, the trees swaying slightly as the wind brushes past them.

New York was beautiful. There was no doubt about that.

"How many languages can you speak?" He questions.

"Too many to count." I chuckle.

He smiles. "Y'know you should smile more, it looks great on you."

"I'll think about it." I tease.

He laughs in response.

"I know I said I don't care about my mother...and I don't,,,but do you know what happened to her?"