The Soldier and the Waitress

Chapter Three

 Bucky stood in his bedroom, which was very plain with only a bed, a table for his things and a rack where all his clothes hung. Anytime Angie saw him, he was dressed in some worn down clothes just for the reason that the jeans stayed together and held up sturdy and the shirts were hardly worn on the construction site.

He went to the rack and pulled off a sweater that needed to be worn. It was in pretty new condition and he finally had a reason to wear it. He hadn't even worn the sweater since before the war but he was glad to have kept it. He set it on the bed and found a pair of dress pants to compliment the sweater and looked at the outfit before pursing his lips. It was too much, wasn't it? No, it would be okay. He shook his head and went to freshen up. Brushed teeth, hair combed over with a bit of hairspray to hold it in place did the trick. He changed into the dress pants and sweater with his collared shirt under it and stared into the mirror for a good five minutes.

Angie wanted to spend time with him. With him. He let out a slow breath and ran his hands through his messy hair. He combed through it and made sure it was presentable. Why was he worried about how he looked for this? It was just cider. Another exhale. It was different. A date, perhaps? He didn't know. He wasn't sure how he felt about the change of routine. But it was a small change. He could do this.

Another glance in the mirror. He looked alright. He knew that this could be fun. He looked at the crumpled piece of paper that read the Griffith Hotel with a few instructions on it. It was close to his small apartment so he'd be able to walk to the hotel and they would catch a cab to the place Angie insisted had some of the best cider ever. After a few moment's consideration, he grabbed his sport coat. It was bound to be a quite chilly evening and he wanted to be prepared. He picked up his things and placed them in his pocket before leaving his apartment and watching the busy streets of New York City. Men hurrying to catch cabs, the occasional vocal cursing from various drivers. Bucky took extra precautions, watching the street and making sure no cars were going to hit him.

New York City was busy, chaotic and just beyond his comfort zone; however, he kept his focus on his destination. Soon enough, he found Angie standing right outside the hotel, dressed in a sleeveless sundress like before with a light long sleeve jacket over it to keep her warm. She had pulled her curls out of her face so her hair was half up. Bucky sucked in a breath. She was a very beautiful woman.

"Well, don't you clean up nice," Angie commented with a small smile as she stood in front of him and tugged on his coat slightly, "I feel a bit underdressed," she teased.

Bucky laughed a little and shook his head. "Don't. You look lovely," he reassured her with a smile. "I'll catch a taxi and you give them the address, yeah?" he suggested to which Angie agreed to with a smiling nod.

After catching the taxi, Bucky opened the door for Angie and let her in before climbing in beside her. Angie gave the taxi driver an address that Bucky tried to remember from the past. Nothing came to mind. Angie's excitement was obvious as she looked over at the man with a proud smile. "You'll love this cider. I promise it'll be some of the best you've ever had."

Bucky chuckled, arm resting against the backseat of the taxi as he looked at her expression. "I'm sure it will be," he reassured her and the taxi driver glanced back at the pair with a shake of his head.

Angie seemed to look proud of herself. She looked at Bucky with a grin and rested a hand on his leg. "That's where I want to go one day," she pointed to the popular theatre that had lines of people waiting to see the latest play. "Not to see a play, but to be on the stage," she corrected herself with a chuckle.

The hand on his leg brought Bucky back to reality and he glanced out the window at the theatre. He couldn't imagine being in that room. All the people, the closeness and the intimacy of the theatre was too much for him. Blame it on the dark rooms and the chatters and the unexpected surprises of the productions. "You'd be good," he told her with a small smile. "Maybe I'll see a play with you being the star one day. Just promise not to forget about me."