5. The Blonde and the Brunette

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Alternating POVs between Bucky and Steve in this one shot

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Alternating POVs between Bucky and Steve in this one shot.

Bucky

I knew as soon as I saw her greeting Steve after we walked into the camp like we owned the place that my next girlfriend was standing right in front of me. She was beautiful, with long dark hair that I wanted to bury my face in, while I was kissing her neck, and undoing her dress, of course. Along with dark eyes and ruby red lips she was a dream come true. Then she opened her mouth and the voice, with its British accent, was like silk and I longed to hear it say my name. Whether it was said as a greeting or in the throes of passion didn't matter to me ... I just wanted to hear her say it.

There was just one small problem. For some reason, she preferred Steve. Don't get me wrong, I loved the guy. Hell, I'd been his protector since he was twelve years old but when he showed up at that factory and found me strapped to that bed mumbling my name, rank, and serial number, I couldn't believe it was him. How did he gain over 100 pounds of muscle and grow a foot in height in a matter of months?

He said something about an experiment then turned red and realized he probably shouldn't say anything about what was obviously a classified subject. But I was his best friend, Bucky, and if he couldn't unload his secrets to me then who could he tell? Whatever they did to him was something. When he jumped from the other side of that factory to where I was waiting it was like watching a fucking god in action. I'm getting sidetracked here.

My immediate dilemma was how I could get the lovely Agent Carter to focus her attention on someone worthy of her beauty, namely me. After we got back to London, shown our quarters, and the quartermaster gave us new uniforms I showered, shaved real nice and close, styled my hair with just a touch of Brylcreem, then went to the pub with the others that had been captives with me, Dugan, Jones, Morita, Falsworth, and Dernier. It was a bit loud for me where the others were situated so I sat in the quieter snug, nursing my scotch. Steve talked those suckers into joining his new unit then came in to give me the sales pitch. As if he had to ask. I was in ... I just wanted him to sweat a bit.

Then Peggy Carter walked in wearing this red dress that hugged all the right spots and showed just enough décolletage (it's French for bosom, I think) to make me imagine what the rest of her looked like underneath the dress. She glanced at me when she came into the snug and walked right up to Steve talking about some equipment that Howard had for him. She must have meant Howard Stark, yeah ... that Howard Stark whose flying car hit the ground at the Stark Expo in June, the night before I shipped out. That was the night Connie and Bonnie ... damn, I'm getting sidetracked again. Thinking of dames will do that to a guy.

Anyways, as I was saying, I was playing it cool and giving Steve some side eye, trying to give him the signal that I got this one but damned if he doesn't check her out, just like all the times I tried to teach him back in Brooklyn. She looks back at the other guys in the main part of the pub, sitting next to the piano player referring to them as the top team, whatever that was about.

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