[It was pretty simple instructions given by Fitz, but when Skye suddenly found herself alone in the room with the object that had been brought into the lab—
Skye couldn’t help herself. She overheard the theories being thrown around between him and Simmons and she just wanted to get a closer look. Besides, they had been poking and prodding at it for hours, so how dangerous could it really be? Making sure no one was around, Skye got up from her desk and went over to where it lay on one of the tables. First, she pokes it with a pen and when nothing happens, she picks it up.
All she does is blink and suddenly she’s no longer in the lab or holding the object.]
Uh oh…
[Oh, she messed up. Looking around absolutely nothing looks familiar and it’s cold. It wasn’t this cold out when she had gone out earlier in the day. Reaching into the back pocket of her jeans, Skye pulls out her phone and unlocks it. No signal. Lifting her phone up into the air, Skye starts moving around to try and find a signal for her phone. She’s walking for a while with no luck and she’s really starting to get cold.
That’s when she comes across something she’s only ever read about in all of the SHIELD info she was forced to study. The SSR. Well, okay, it was a truck with the SSR logo on it. Which could only mean—
Jemma was right. This was some sort of teleportation device. Holy shit. Was she literally in the middle of World War 2? Sneaking in was not going to be easy, but, if anyone had possible explanations for what the hell happened it had to be them. Right? She hides out near the entrance she followed the truck to before it disappeared. As much as she’d love to just waltz in, she has to have some semblance of a plan.
That’s when she overhears some agents speaking about heading down to the nearby pub, that a few of the Howling Commandos were down there already. It took her a second but then the realization hits her. Okay. Change of plan. Not breaking into the highly secured SSR bunker. Not when she might be able to get in more easily
It takes her a little while, but eventually, she makes it to the pub and hopes that she isn’t too late and missed them. Dressed in an emerald green dress she had stolen, Skye’s hair wasn’t done up nearly as nice as the other women she spotted around, but you know what? TIME TRAVEL WASN’T IN THE SHIELD 101 HANDBOOK, OKAY?! She’s completely out of her element here and sure she’s watched old movies, but being here? Completely different and completely overwhelming.
Cell phone tucked away in a clutch she had also stolen, the dress was long enough that she hadn’t worried too much about stealing a pair of era-appropriate heels and instead was still wearing her heeled boots. Looking around the room, she could feel some eyes on her as she moved around trying to find anyone that actually looks familiar. Laughing it off when a guy came up behind her asking for a dance, Skye quickly brushed past him. This place was oozing with testosterone.
Just when she thought she was too late, Skye spots someone she’s only ever seen in pictures and comes to a stop a few feet away. This was real, wasn’t it? She’s really traveled back in time and just a few feet in front of her was Bucky Barnes. Taking a deep breath, Skye walks up to him and at least tries to remain calm.]
Is this seat taken?
[She does a decent job of looking like she’s not absolutely shitting her pants right now at least.]
[ In the noise and smoke of the pub, the Howling Commandos are distracted. Dum Dum Dugan was telling a story, and when Dum Dum was on a roll, man, he took up the space: hands gesticulating, waving his pint enthusiastically enough to spill some of it on innocent bystanders, retelling the tale of their latest heroics back on the continent.
Which, of course, led to Jim rolling his eyes and Bucky hiding a smirk behind his drink. He's keeping half an eye on the clock on the wall behind them, because Steve had promised he'd tear himself away from the tactical maps and come join them for a drink. But the more the time ticked ever-onwards, he had a pretty good idea his pal was going to find some excuse to never actually join them, so Bucky might need to head back to HQ and retrieve him before it got too late. (Once upon a time, he'd have grabbed his friend by the scruff of his neck, but now that they were the same height and Steve was considerably broader, that had gotten harder.)
Normally he'd have more of an eye on the nearby ladies, too, but he wasn't paying too much attention tonight — which is how he's caught off-guard when a bombshell in green walks right up to him, braving this loud corner of male camaraderie. He blinks, looks a little startled; beside him, Jacques is already laughing, offering, "Ma cherie, if Barnes here is too addled to let you sit beside him, you may have my seat instead."
Bucky shoves him. ]
Oh, hey. Nah, it's free. Although god knows if you actually want to sit so close to these chumps—
[ More chatter around him from his fellow soldiers, someone elbowing him in the side, and Bucky grins. He rises politely to his feet, tugs the chair out for her. ]
[Skye barely keeps her expression of ease from turning into shock when she realizes who he’s seated with. For a second she doesn’t even think about how much she’s messed up by coming here.
Stepping back as Bucky stands, she thinks to herself that he’s taller than she pictured him being. Smiling with ease as he pulls the chair next to him out, Skye tucks her skirt a little as she takes a seat.
How do the women walk around in these dresses? They’re so heavy.]
Thank you.
[Adjusting her hair when she catches sight of a woman walking past looking much more out together than her, Skye then looks to Bucky when she realizes he was asking her a question.]
I am, yes. How did you guess?
[Just making jokes through the panic.]
What are you fellas drinking?
[Because she’s still freezing and a drink would definitely help her warm up, maybe help take the edge off.]
Us? Cheap shitty rum, to be honest. Uh, sorry. [ For the potty mouth— although considering she's strolled into a soldiers' bar packed full of foul-mouthed G.I.s and Tommies, it's pretty much par for the course. And then, noticing a moment later how Jacques is still making eyes at her, as if he's about to swoop in on this conversation, Bucky decides to seize the opportunity. Still standing, he leans his weight against the back of the new arrival's chair, partially just to lean companionably closer into her space, ostensibly to get close enough that she can hear him. (It's his left hand propped against the chairback; still human, still flesh and blood. There's those sleep-deprived crags under his eyes and a few still-healing nicks on his knuckles from the day-to-day, but the worst hasn't happened yet.) ]
Can I get you anything?
[ His other hand pats the pockets of his jacket in a sudden worry, double-checking— okay, yes, he's still got some spare pence on him. Money's a weird thing these days. They don't use any of it when they're out in the field, so shore leaves turns into a haze of celebration and extravagance, blowing their pay on booze and partying and drowning out the memories of what they had left, and what they were soon going back to. ]
[Skye’s more surprised when he apologizes for cursing than the fact that he was actually cursing. God, this was so bizarre. Seeing them all here, in person, and not just in photos. She doesn’t even care that one of them is staring at her so openly, if she wasn’t so worried that she might give away something, she’d be doing the same.
Looking from the hand on the back of her chair, Skye follows his arm up to his face and realizes just how close he is to her. Swallowing back the panic at the idea that any minute she’d be caught lying, Skye grips her clutch a little more tightly before she manages to smile an easy, believable, smile at Bucky.]
I’ve got it.
[Thanks the money that was in the clutch she had stolen. Honestly, she’s not sure what the currency was like here.]
How about a round of less shitty rum on me?
[Because, just maybe, if she butters them up and got them a little more tipsy, this might go a lot easier. Or, you know, she’ll get arrested. God. What that fuck was she doing?!]
[ "Oh, yes please," rumbles Dum Dum Dugan a few seats down, brightening. Bucky's glance back at the woman is sheepish, his hand falling away from where he'd been scrambling for his wallet. ]
Pretty sure we're supposed to be the one footing the bill.
[ Maybe a touch of fragile masculinity— it is, after all, the '40s. But after another insistence from her, he relents and agrees. It's not like they actually have that much to spend, so if a well-dressed and moneyed brunette wants to look on the Howling Commandos as a charity case, they might as well take it. He accompanies her up to the bar to help carry all the drinks back to their table, though. While they wait, he props his arms against the counter. ]
Sorry in advance about them. You've chosen a, uh, colourful bar to wind up in tonight, ma'am. I'm Bucky, by the way.
[ Women offering to throw down drinks with the soldiers was an unusual sight, but he was already enjoying her accent. It was nice, talking to a pretty American girl rather than yet another half-shattered American soldier. It reminded him of home. ]
It's the least I can do, for all that you guys do.
[And she won't take no for an answer, obviously. Skye needs to be on their good side, even though she has absolutely no idea how she's even going to get inside the SSR. She's sure security isn't nearly as difficult to deal with as it is in her time, but still, there are those pesky little guns...
Surprised when Bucky follows her, Skye looks back at the table where the rest of the guys are sitting, a few of them caught staring at her. Jacques just winks though. Laughing, Skye stops herself from rolling her eyes as she looks over to Bucky.]
I kn--
[God that was close, Skye quickly correct herself.]
I'm Mary, and don't worry about it. I actually like how colorful this place is. Reminds me of home.
[When the bartender comes up to her, Skye does a quick head count to make sure she's ordering the right amount of rum. She notices the quick glance the bartender gives Bucky as she pulls money from her clutch. Like he's judging him for letting her foot the bill. This time she does roll her eyes before turning her attention back to Bucky.]
Brooklyn, born and raised. [ I'm just a kid from Brooklyn; he hears that echo in Steve's voice now, all the time. It used to be that his friend always trailed helplessly around behind him like a lost puppy, but nowadays it feels like he's walking around in Steve's footsteps instead. Funny, how these things go. ]
How about you?
[ He's half-distracted but still riveting his attention on her, watchful, half-smiling — c'mon, Buck, be a gent, remember how to charm them — as he carefully helps gather up all the shot glasses as the bartender pours out the drinks. It'll be something like both him and Mary carrying around four each. ]
[Totally doesn't already know that fact about him. Not at all. Skye smiles with ease as she gathers up the other drinks after placing her clutch under her armpit.]
Hell's Kitchen.
[Skye's careful with where she steps. The dress is pretty long, but at least she doesn't have to deal with heels.]
Where are all of the ladies at? Or is this some kind of 'men's only' pub that I missed the memo on?
[ She's being careful with her steps, but Bucky almost trips over his in stunned surprise, not expecting that answer out of her mouth. Hell's Kitchen is a mess. Hell's Kitchen is where he and Steve have always gotten beaten up the worst, and almost not even survived to drag their asses over the bridge and back to Brooklyn, licking their wounds. He tries not to let on, but he's skittish on those rare occasions when he happens to be in that neighbourhood, always watching his back and walking light on his toes. He tried not to be there often.
She doesn't look Irish — too dusky for it, something exotic to her features — but 'Mary' sounds Irish. Hell, maybe those gangs are where all her money came from. He marshals his composure back into place; tells himself not to ask about it. ]
It's not technically men's only, but they're gonna look at you a little sideways for being here. It's mostly popular with soldiers on leave. Bit too cheap and rough-and-tumble for their dates, so they try to take them to one of the restaurants down the street instead if they're out for the night. If you're from the Kitchen, though, you can probably hold your own.
[Skye, of course, doesn't know just how different Hell's Kitchen was back in the day. So she looks confused by his reaction.
It's not hard to imagine why the women might not want to come here. Between how rowdy some of the guys are being here, and the overwhelming stench of cigars...
Still, she's been in worse places before. Placing the drinks down on the table once they're back, the guys grab them quickly.]
Oh, well--
[She can hold her own, sure, but not because she grew up in Hell's Kitchen specifically. She can gather from his reaction and response that it must've been a shitty place to live during his time. Their time? God, she's having a hard time wrapping her head around all of that.]
I mean, yeah, I can hold my own.
[One of the guys mutters something and the others start laughing. It's probably for the best that she didn't hear them. Picking up her own drink she takes a sip and her nose scrunches up. Still not the best she's ever hard.]
Told you it was shitty, [ he says with a flash of a grin. It was the best they could manage on rationed liquor supply lines, though. He missed whiskey— they hadn't been able to get a hold of it the whole time they were overseas, apart from that one time Falsworth and Pinky smuggled in some proper Scotch for the gang.
Now that they've taken their seats again, he's rearranged their positions to scoot his and Mary's chairs a little further off to the side, stealing a bit more privacy away from the other soldiers. (Jacques, finally getting the hint, gives Bucky a thumbs up and then turns back to the others.) ]
[Skye tucks some stray hairs behind her ear, she hadn't done the best job on her hair but she was in a rush. Her expression falls a little when he asks what she's doing here. Shit, she hadn't really thought over her story yet. She takes the time to think of something by taking a long swig of her drink.]
I came to visit family, but then everything started happening and--
Not exactly easy to get back.
[Well, the latter part was true. Did people in this day and age travel to go see family?]
What about you?
[It's an automatic response, but as soon as the words leave her lips she realizes how silly of a question that is and starts laughing.]
[Skye has been here for almost two weeks with no possible way back home yet, but she at least has a place to stay in the mean time. Peggy offered to share her apartment with her, and for the most of the time Skye was the only one here. It’s almost eight in the evening and Skye is on her second cup of coffee in the last hour, back resting against the couch she’s been sleeping on after setting the cup down on the table. Skye picks up the book she’s been reading front to back in the hopes of getting some answers. Frustrated, she tosses the book at the foot of the couch and pinches the bridge of her nose.
Leaning her head back against the arm of the couch, she can’t stop wishing that Fitz and Simmons were here. They’d know what to do. Perking up the instant she hears an odd sound outside of her window, Skye cranes her head in the direction of it and sees a shadow move past the closed curtain. Getting to her feet, Skye looks around for some kind of weapon but the only thing that’s close to her is a hair brush.
Picking it up she makes her way over to the window, and with only a little hesitation she yanks the curtain back and nearly has a heart attack and she realizes…]
Bucky? What are you—?
[Oh, right, he’s just hanging out there. Skye opens the window and takes a step back.]
What are you doing?
[She doesn’t even think about the fact that she’s in a knee length nightgown that is far more revealing than any day or night dress worn in this day and age.]
[ Outside her window, sheepish and hand half-raised in the middle of knocking on the frame, Bucky stands on the sloping roof of the building wing below. He’s distracted enough by the climb and the effort in keeping his balance that he doesn’t notice her clothes just yet. ]
Uh. Hey. I probably should’ve called up first, but the landlady really really hates visiting men, so she doesn’t even pass on the message that someone’s here and doesn’t even let us into the parlour. Not that I know from personal experience, I mean, I’ve heard it from the other Commandos, Jacques was talking about it—
[ Foot in mouth, Buck. He shifts his weight, and that redistribution suddenly makes his boot slip on the slick patch of ice on the roof and his leg slide out from under him, and with a yelp of fuck! he catches the windowframe, hanging on before he pinwheels right off the roof. God, he shouldn’t have done this in winter, there’s still snow and ice everywhere. Sneaking in through girls’ windows was so much easier back in New York. There were fire escapes. ]
I’m coming in before I die, sorry, hope that’s okay—
[ And he’s grasping the window ledge even while his boots skitter beneath him, and he clambers through, almost knocking his head against the side of the window, before he rolls through and lands on the floor with an ignoble little oof. ]
[Eyebrows lifting as he babbles his reason, Skye still doesn’t understand why it is he couldn’t just call her. Still, she’s smiling at the way he fumbles over his words.]
Right, of course not.
[She instinctively reaches out when he slips, but he manages to catch himself. Taking a step back when he warns that he’s coming in, Skye wraps her arm around herself as the chilly air makes its way inside.]
And here I thought soldiers were supposed to be agile.
[ From his position on the floor, he’s suddenly presented with an overwhelming view of Skye’s bare knees, before thankfully she reaches down and helps haul him back to his feet. He bounces up, hand now interlaced in hers, standing a little too close as he laughs. ]
Hey, I’m agile. I can do an army-crawl like nobody’s business. I can go under barbed wire. I can go in and out of trenches. Climbing rooftops, though, I haven’t gotten much practice with.
[Heat creeps up her neck at the way he holds onto her hand, letting that physical touch linger for a few seconds before clearing her throat and letting go in order to close her window.]
You know there’s things called phones, right?
[Skye teases, turning to face him again. But then she realizes maybe it was something important that couldn’t wait and her expression falters into something more serious.]
Yeah, but aforementioned landlady. Not a fan of men calling on the phone either, not at this hour.
[ Seeing the potential alarm in Skye’s expression and realising how he might’ve made the situation seem urgent, he raises his hands, trying to ward off the concern. ]
Everything’s fine! No fires, no emergencies. I just got back from the pub and Steve’s over with Peggy at the SSR, so I figured I could come say hi. [ It had seemed like a smarter idea when he’d been half-tipsy on the ground. ] Just hang out and hear how’re you settling in. I brought the paper and we can, I dunno, go through job listings or something. If you’re thinking about jobs, I mean. That might be a sore point. Not that I mean you should be stuck here forever, but as something to keep you busy during the day and get some extra pocket change, you know?
[ Bucky really does ramble when he’s nervous. Their failure to crack time travel has been a mixed bag; on the one hand, Skye is still stranded out of time and they haven’t been able to help her. On the other hand, it means he gets to see her more, so. Silver linings? ]
That’s because she desperately needs to get laid.
[Skye says bluntly, as if that would solve of her issues. It would solve at least a few. Smiling when he explains why he’s here, she fights not to laugh at how tipsy he sounds and is.]
You left the pub to help me look through job listings at—
[ It’s the little things. (Although he doesn’t know it, after next January, after the serums, the experiments— he’s not going to be able to get tipsy like this anymore. That metabolism’s going to keep a cold, iron grip on his demeanour. But for now, he gets to be playful and cheerful and loose and a little drunk—)
Bucky’s gaze follows hers, up to the clock on the wall. And then, aghast: ]
It’s that late? Ah, jeez. It sounded like a way better idea when I had it. I didn’t realise— it gets dark so early here, it’s thrown my sense of time totally off. Shit.
[ And there’s that nightgown. It’s like he finally notices it. ]
I can get out of your hair. If you were, um, in bed. Or about to go to bed.
Really? ’Cause I kinda always aim to be one. [ A glimmer of his usual cheeky humour. Not even in a salacious way; it’s just that Bucky was always the one getting Steve into trouble in class, whispering jokes under his breath, passing notes, derailing them from their Very Studious Endeavours. Bucky was clever enough to be innately good at school, but always restless and easily-distracted himself.
He fidgets now — tries not to look at Skye’s knees again — and instead roams over to the couch, to check out her book. ]
What were you reading? I can’t imagine there’s much in this era that can help you out. Compared to stuff back in your time period.
[ They hadn’t gotten far in the endeavour to get her home again, even with Carter and the SSR behind them. ]
[ As Skye takes the book and sits down, Bucky flops down next to her, joining her on the sofa. He sprawls comfortably, one arm slung over the back of the couch.
It’s nice to have her here. But it’s also horrifically selfish to want her here, so he has to keep reminding herself: they’re trying to find a way to get Skye home. She doesn’t belong here. He probably shouldn’t get too attached.
(Still, it doesn’t change the fact that it is nice while she’s here, now that they’ve gotten over the terrible circumstances of their first meeting. As they’d settled into a more amiable friendly dynamic, Steve and Bucky taking the two women out for lunch, even if Peggy had to absent herself early more often than not. Duty called.) ]
I’m sorry. That we haven’t been able to figure out anything for you yet. I know you… You must be missing home.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[It was pretty simple instructions given by Fitz, but when Skye suddenly found herself alone in the room with the object that had been brought into the lab—
Skye couldn’t help herself. She overheard the theories being thrown around between him and Simmons and she just wanted to get a closer look. Besides, they had been poking and prodding at it for hours, so how dangerous could it really be? Making sure no one was around, Skye got up from her desk and went over to where it lay on one of the tables. First, she pokes it with a pen and when nothing happens, she picks it up.
All she does is blink and suddenly she’s no longer in the lab or holding the object.]
Uh oh…
[Oh, she messed up. Looking around absolutely nothing looks familiar and it’s cold. It wasn’t this cold out when she had gone out earlier in the day. Reaching into the back pocket of her jeans, Skye pulls out her phone and unlocks it. No signal. Lifting her phone up into the air, Skye starts moving around to try and find a signal for her phone. She’s walking for a while with no luck and she’s really starting to get cold.
That’s when she comes across something she’s only ever read about in all of the SHIELD info she was forced to study. The SSR. Well, okay, it was a truck with the SSR logo on it. Which could only mean—
Jemma was right. This was some sort of teleportation device. Holy shit. Was she literally in the middle of World War 2? Sneaking in was not going to be easy, but, if anyone had possible explanations for what the hell happened it had to be them. Right? She hides out near the entrance she followed the truck to before it disappeared. As much as she’d love to just waltz in, she has to have some semblance of a plan.
That’s when she overhears some agents speaking about heading down to the nearby pub, that a few of the Howling Commandos were down there already. It took her a second but then the realization hits her. Okay. Change of plan. Not breaking into the highly secured SSR bunker. Not when she might be able to get in more easily
It takes her a little while, but eventually, she makes it to the pub and hopes that she isn’t too late and missed them. Dressed in an emerald green dress she had stolen, Skye’s hair wasn’t done up nearly as nice as the other women she spotted around, but you know what? TIME TRAVEL WASN’T IN THE SHIELD 101 HANDBOOK, OKAY?! She’s completely out of her element here and sure she’s watched old movies, but being here? Completely different and completely overwhelming.
Cell phone tucked away in a clutch she had also stolen, the dress was long enough that she hadn’t worried too much about stealing a pair of era-appropriate heels and instead was still wearing her heeled boots. Looking around the room, she could feel some eyes on her as she moved around trying to find anyone that actually looks familiar. Laughing it off when a guy came up behind her asking for a dance, Skye quickly brushed past him. This place was oozing with testosterone.
Just when she thought she was too late, Skye spots someone she’s only ever seen in pictures and comes to a stop a few feet away. This was real, wasn’t it? She’s really traveled back in time and just a few feet in front of her was Bucky Barnes. Taking a deep breath, Skye walks up to him and at least tries to remain calm.]
Is this seat taken?
[She does a decent job of looking like she’s not absolutely shitting her pants right now at least.]
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Which, of course, led to Jim rolling his eyes and Bucky hiding a smirk behind his drink. He's keeping half an eye on the clock on the wall behind them, because Steve had promised he'd tear himself away from the tactical maps and come join them for a drink. But the more the time ticked ever-onwards, he had a pretty good idea his pal was going to find some excuse to never actually join them, so Bucky might need to head back to HQ and retrieve him before it got too late. (Once upon a time, he'd have grabbed his friend by the scruff of his neck, but now that they were the same height and Steve was considerably broader, that had gotten harder.)
Normally he'd have more of an eye on the nearby ladies, too, but he wasn't paying too much attention tonight — which is how he's caught off-guard when a bombshell in green walks right up to him, braving this loud corner of male camaraderie. He blinks, looks a little startled; beside him, Jacques is already laughing, offering, "Ma cherie, if Barnes here is too addled to let you sit beside him, you may have my seat instead."
Bucky shoves him. ]
Oh, hey. Nah, it's free. Although god knows if you actually want to sit so close to these chumps—
[ More chatter around him from his fellow soldiers, someone elbowing him in the side, and Bucky grins. He rises politely to his feet, tugs the chair out for her. ]
All yours, ma'am. You're American too?
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Stepping back as Bucky stands, she thinks to herself that he’s taller than she pictured him being. Smiling with ease as he pulls the chair next to him out, Skye tucks her skirt a little as she takes a seat.
How do the women walk around in these dresses? They’re so heavy.]
Thank you.
[Adjusting her hair when she catches sight of a woman walking past looking much more out together than her, Skye then looks to Bucky when she realizes he was asking her a question.]
I am, yes. How did you guess?
[Just making jokes through the panic.]
What are you fellas drinking?
[Because she’s still freezing and a drink would definitely help her warm up, maybe help take the edge off.]
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Can I get you anything?
[ His other hand pats the pockets of his jacket in a sudden worry, double-checking— okay, yes, he's still got some spare pence on him. Money's a weird thing these days. They don't use any of it when they're out in the field, so shore leaves turns into a haze of celebration and extravagance, blowing their pay on booze and partying and drowning out the memories of what they had left, and what they were soon going back to. ]
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Looking from the hand on the back of her chair, Skye follows his arm up to his face and realizes just how close he is to her. Swallowing back the panic at the idea that any minute she’d be caught lying, Skye grips her clutch a little more tightly before she manages to smile an easy, believable, smile at Bucky.]
I’ve got it.
[Thanks the money that was in the clutch she had stolen. Honestly, she’s not sure what the currency was like here.]
How about a round of less shitty rum on me?
[Because, just maybe, if she butters them up and got them a little more tipsy, this might go a lot easier. Or, you know, she’ll get arrested. God. What that fuck was she doing?!]
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Pretty sure we're supposed to be the one footing the bill.
[ Maybe a touch of fragile masculinity— it is, after all, the '40s. But after another insistence from her, he relents and agrees. It's not like they actually have that much to spend, so if a well-dressed and moneyed brunette wants to look on the Howling Commandos as a charity case, they might as well take it. He accompanies her up to the bar to help carry all the drinks back to their table, though. While they wait, he props his arms against the counter. ]
Sorry in advance about them. You've chosen a, uh, colourful bar to wind up in tonight, ma'am. I'm Bucky, by the way.
[ Women offering to throw down drinks with the soldiers was an unusual sight, but he was already enjoying her accent. It was nice, talking to a pretty American girl rather than yet another half-shattered American soldier. It reminded him of home. ]
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[And she won't take no for an answer, obviously. Skye needs to be on their good side, even though she has absolutely no idea how she's even going to get inside the SSR. She's sure security isn't nearly as difficult to deal with as it is in her time, but still, there are those pesky little guns...
Surprised when Bucky follows her, Skye looks back at the table where the rest of the guys are sitting, a few of them caught staring at her. Jacques just winks though. Laughing, Skye stops herself from rolling her eyes as she looks over to Bucky.]
I kn--
[God that was close, Skye quickly correct herself.]
I'm Mary, and don't worry about it. I actually like how colorful this place is. Reminds me of home.
[When the bartender comes up to her, Skye does a quick head count to make sure she's ordering the right amount of rum. She notices the quick glance the bartender gives Bucky as she pulls money from her clutch. Like he's judging him for letting her foot the bill. This time she does roll her eyes before turning her attention back to Bucky.]
So, where are you from, Bucky?
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How about you?
[ He's half-distracted but still riveting his attention on her, watchful, half-smiling — c'mon, Buck, be a gent, remember how to charm them — as he carefully helps gather up all the shot glasses as the bartender pours out the drinks. It'll be something like both him and Mary carrying around four each. ]
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[Totally doesn't already know that fact about him. Not at all. Skye smiles with ease as she gathers up the other drinks after placing her clutch under her armpit.]
Hell's Kitchen.
[Skye's careful with where she steps. The dress is pretty long, but at least she doesn't have to deal with heels.]
Where are all of the ladies at? Or is this some kind of 'men's only' pub that I missed the memo on?
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[ She's being careful with her steps, but Bucky almost trips over his in stunned surprise, not expecting that answer out of her mouth. Hell's Kitchen is a mess. Hell's Kitchen is where he and Steve have always gotten beaten up the worst, and almost not even survived to drag their asses over the bridge and back to Brooklyn, licking their wounds. He tries not to let on, but he's skittish on those rare occasions when he happens to be in that neighbourhood, always watching his back and walking light on his toes. He tried not to be there often.
She doesn't look Irish — too dusky for it, something exotic to her features — but 'Mary' sounds Irish. Hell, maybe those gangs are where all her money came from. He marshals his composure back into place; tells himself not to ask about it. ]
It's not technically men's only, but they're gonna look at you a little sideways for being here. It's mostly popular with soldiers on leave. Bit too cheap and rough-and-tumble for their dates, so they try to take them to one of the restaurants down the street instead if they're out for the night. If you're from the Kitchen, though, you can probably hold your own.
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It's not hard to imagine why the women might not want to come here. Between how rowdy some of the guys are being here, and the overwhelming stench of cigars...
Still, she's been in worse places before. Placing the drinks down on the table once they're back, the guys grab them quickly.]
Oh, well--
[She can hold her own, sure, but not because she grew up in Hell's Kitchen specifically. She can gather from his reaction and response that it must've been a shitty place to live during his time. Their time? God, she's having a hard time wrapping her head around all of that.]
I mean, yeah, I can hold my own.
[One of the guys mutters something and the others start laughing. It's probably for the best that she didn't hear them. Picking up her own drink she takes a sip and her nose scrunches up. Still not the best she's ever hard.]
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Now that they've taken their seats again, he's rearranged their positions to scoot his and Mary's chairs a little further off to the side, stealing a bit more privacy away from the other soldiers. (Jacques, finally getting the hint, gives Bucky a thumbs up and then turns back to the others.) ]
So, what brings a gal like you over to Europe?
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I came to visit family, but then everything started happening and--
Not exactly easy to get back.
[Well, the latter part was true. Did people in this day and age travel to go see family?]
What about you?
[It's an automatic response, but as soon as the words leave her lips she realizes how silly of a question that is and starts laughing.]
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wrap ♥
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Leaning her head back against the arm of the couch, she can’t stop wishing that Fitz and Simmons were here. They’d know what to do. Perking up the instant she hears an odd sound outside of her window, Skye cranes her head in the direction of it and sees a shadow move past the closed curtain. Getting to her feet, Skye looks around for some kind of weapon but the only thing that’s close to her is a hair brush.
Picking it up she makes her way over to the window, and with only a little hesitation she yanks the curtain back and nearly has a heart attack and she realizes…]
Bucky? What are you—?
[Oh, right, he’s just hanging out there. Skye opens the window and takes a step back.]
What are you doing?
[She doesn’t even think about the fact that she’s in a knee length nightgown that is far more revealing than any day or night dress worn in this day and age.]
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Uh. Hey. I probably should’ve called up first, but the landlady really really hates visiting men, so she doesn’t even pass on the message that someone’s here and doesn’t even let us into the parlour. Not that I know from personal experience, I mean, I’ve heard it from the other Commandos, Jacques was talking about it—
[ Foot in mouth, Buck. He shifts his weight, and that redistribution suddenly makes his boot slip on the slick patch of ice on the roof and his leg slide out from under him, and with a yelp of fuck! he catches the windowframe, hanging on before he pinwheels right off the roof. God, he shouldn’t have done this in winter, there’s still snow and ice everywhere. Sneaking in through girls’ windows was so much easier back in New York. There were fire escapes. ]
I’m coming in before I die, sorry, hope that’s okay—
[ And he’s grasping the window ledge even while his boots skitter beneath him, and he clambers through, almost knocking his head against the side of the window, before he rolls through and lands on the floor with an ignoble little oof. ]
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Right, of course not.
[She instinctively reaches out when he slips, but he manages to catch himself. Taking a step back when he warns that he’s coming in, Skye wraps her arm around herself as the chilly air makes its way inside.]
And here I thought soldiers were supposed to be agile.
[Skye teases, holding a hand out to him.]
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Hey, I’m agile. I can do an army-crawl like nobody’s business. I can go under barbed wire. I can go in and out of trenches. Climbing rooftops, though, I haven’t gotten much practice with.
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You know there’s things called phones, right?
[Skye teases, turning to face him again. But then she realizes maybe it was something important that couldn’t wait and her expression falters into something more serious.]
Is everything okay?
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[ Seeing the potential alarm in Skye’s expression and realising how he might’ve made the situation seem urgent, he raises his hands, trying to ward off the concern. ]
Everything’s fine! No fires, no emergencies. I just got back from the pub and Steve’s over with Peggy at the SSR, so I figured I could come say hi. [ It had seemed like a smarter idea when he’d been half-tipsy on the ground. ] Just hang out and hear how’re you settling in. I brought the paper and we can, I dunno, go through job listings or something. If you’re thinking about jobs, I mean. That might be a sore point. Not that I mean you should be stuck here forever, but as something to keep you busy during the day and get some extra pocket change, you know?
[ Bucky really does ramble when he’s nervous. Their failure to crack time travel has been a mixed bag; on the one hand, Skye is still stranded out of time and they haven’t been able to help her. On the other hand, it means he gets to see her more, so. Silver linings? ]
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[Skye says bluntly, as if that would solve of her issues.
It would solve at least a few. Smiling when he explains why he’s here, she fights not to laugh at how tipsy he sounds and is.]You left the pub to help me look through job listings at—
[She glances at the clock]
Eleven at night?
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Bucky’s gaze follows hers, up to the clock on the wall. And then, aghast: ]
It’s that late? Ah, jeez. It sounded like a way better idea when I had it. I didn’t realise— it gets dark so early here, it’s thrown my sense of time totally off. Shit.
[ And there’s that nightgown. It’s like he finally notices it. ]
I can get out of your hair. If you were, um, in bed. Or about to go to bed.
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[Skye teases before looking down at her night gown, noticing the way he had been looking at her.]
Oh. No, I wasn’t going to bed yet. I just can’t stand how uncomfortable everything is here.
[The bras alone. She gestures towards the couch where her book was,]
I was looking over a book, thought it might have some answers on how I could get back. Nothing so far.
[Much to her frustration.]
I’d love a distraction.
[That didn’t sound right. Quickly she adds,]
Not that you’re a distraction.
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He fidgets now — tries not to look at Skye’s knees again — and instead roams over to the couch, to check out her book. ]
What were you reading? I can’t imagine there’s much in this era that can help you out. Compared to stuff back in your time period.
[ They hadn’t gotten far in the endeavour to get her home again, even with Carter and the SSR behind them. ]
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Somehow that’s not hard to believe.
[She teases, following his gaze to the couch.]
An Introduction to Metaphysics. Not sure how much help it’ll be though, a lot of it is just going over my head.
[Frustrated and tired, she grabs the book from the couch as she sits down. Leaving room for him to sit if he wants to.]
I have—
[Colleagues? Co-workers? Friends? Skye isn’t sure what the right word to use is,]
People I know back home, who could translate all of this for me. Would’ve probably figured out a way to get back already.
[Skye leans against the couch, pinching the bridge of her nose. It’s hard to not feel a little defeated now.]
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It’s nice to have her here. But it’s also horrifically selfish to want her here, so he has to keep reminding herself: they’re trying to find a way to get Skye home. She doesn’t belong here. He probably shouldn’t get too attached.
(Still, it doesn’t change the fact that it is nice while she’s here, now that they’ve gotten over the terrible circumstances of their first meeting. As they’d settled into a more amiable friendly dynamic, Steve and Bucky taking the two women out for lunch, even if Peggy had to absent herself early more often than not. Duty called.) ]
I’m sorry. That we haven’t been able to figure out anything for you yet. I know you… You must be missing home.
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