postscript. [bucky barnes x reader]

February 7, 1944 - March 22, 1944

7 February 1944

Dear Bucky,

You don't have to worry about me joining the service. My boss reminds us daily that our rubber work is also essential to the war effort and that every man counts. As a feeble old maid of a woman, I hope my daily squabbling with the Nixon Nitration Works of New Jersey also counts for something. The name Nixon keeps coming up a little too frequently in scrapped business meetings and gauged prices. Too bad about the Captain's wife. I wonder if Mrs. Nixon feels as much like a war widow as I sometimes do.

With you and Steve both gone, I've gone from being happy in my alone-ness to lonely, pure and simple. That sounds horrible. I promise it's not all bad; I've grown used to solitude. Still, I'm rethinking my instructions to you to abstain from going AWOL. The appeal is slowly starting to show—for me anyway. Besides, Bonnie is no doubt on her way, and that will give you the chance to escape her. I would tell you about everything she's been getting up to lately, but then I fear my mother would call me ungenerous and a terrible gossip. I am one, of course, but that's beside the point. Suffice to say, I don't think she's getting friendly with me out of any sense of genuine fondness or feelings of friendship. Not when she keeps asking about you and getting huffy when I don't give many details. Why, if I was in the army, it may not take long for either her or me to be assigned to the mess hall, if you catch my drift.

Nevermind me, I'm only stir-crazy. That's all. I keep thinking I should go out and do something. You know, something besides bond sales and work. How's Berlin this time of year? I might show up just to give Hitler what-for, put a stop to this whole war business, and drag you boys kicking and screaming back home. Do you think I need army greens for that? I don't!

In reality, I think I might try to get out to Oneida and visit my cousin soon. Then, at least, we can commiserate with each other over the Army and all of its skills for taking the best of men. Say hello to Luz and Skip for me. These are some of the guys that can't find a girl to write to, if I'm not mistaken?

Outside of Steve heading out, life has been pretty uneventful lately. What can I say about New York that you don't already know? Today is a Monday, and the sun has already set. Of course, you know as well as anyone that the sun going down on Brooklyn doesn't mean the world has gone quiet. I guess it must be a far cry from your life over in Aldbourne. Although, it did snow heavily for an hour or two today, and maybe we have that in common. Come to think of it, it's good weather for a hot tea.

Back now with the tea, your flavor this time since you brought it up so nicely. It's just swell. I wasn't expecting much of peppermint licorice if I'm honest with you. I can say I was so pleasantly surprised that it might turn out to be my favorite flavor of them all. Convenient, isn't it? I hope you have some on hand so you can have some as you read and imagine that all of this is just a pleasant conversation over tea on any other snowy Monday evening. Think of it, Buck. The snow would be coming down in powder, and I could put on my Glen Miller record since the radio is off the air. We could talk if we wanted to or just listen to the music, and either way the war would be a distant nightmare a world away from us. I feel like the rush to Do Something would sort of shrivel and fade away if it could be just you and me.

See what I mean? Stir-crazy, and desperate to not be anymore. Maybe someday, though.

Until then, I'm content to be,

Your Friend

P.S. I don't know what Steve would be doing in this scenario. Maybe we could keep him in a kennel so he wouldn't run off on us.

-... -...

14 February 1944

Heya,