𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄

༻ ❁ ༺

July 5th, 1943

          TYNWALD DAY DAWNED bright and early. It was a national holiday of the Isle of Man, where Alice and several other nurses happened to be from. They had been feeling homesick more than ever as of late. 

Usually on this day, her family would be partaking in street parties and celebrations. However, she was on a light duty that morning - it was business as usual.

Bucky was also at peace for the day, and he joined Alice and her pals in the meadow near the camp to relax. They laughed and chased one other until they were weary, playing tag and blind man's bluff like children.

Bucky wasn't as concerned with winning as he was with having an excuse to wrap his arms around Alice. When he swept his pretty nurse off her feet, he was intoxicated on the sound she made.

As the game ended, they fractured into two or three little knots. Bucky had caught Alice again, pulled her off her feet, and placed her in the centre of a field of wildflowers.

Bucky flopped down next to her. "Is this what it's like over the pond? Do you crazy Brits always celebrate holidays so mundanely?"

"What were you expecting, a parade?" Alice quipped, a smirk playing on her lips. "Has it occurred to you that you Americans celebrate everything a little too dramatically?"

A smirk curled the corners of Bucky's mouth. "Nah. That can't be it. America is the best country in the world after all."

"That is the exact kind of Yankee arrogance -- " Alice cut herself off when she saw his shoulders shaking with contained laughter. "You're teasing me!"

Bucky tucked her hair behind her ear. It was pretty down. "You just make it so easy, Ally."

Alice flushed as she fidgeted with a tiny hardback book in her pocket. She didn't want to ponder about the glimmer in his eyes too much. At the very least, she had the option of disappearing inside her books. There were no smiles, no old stories with familiar rhythms, and no grins that left her perplexed and wanting more.

"Here." Lawrence walked up behind Alice and tossed a flower crown into her lap. "Apparently, the light of my life does not value my efforts. She would not allow me to put this on her."

Gwen caught Alice's eye. She was already enshrouded in so many wreaths and garlands that it was difficult to discern her hair or clothing. Alice chuckled as she placed the crown over her head. "Why does she put up with you?"

Lawrence looked back at his wife, grinning like a mad man. "Eight years and I still have no idea. She's never strayed though. So, I must be doing something right."

Lawrence dashed across the field and tackled Gwen, rolling her about in the grass until she was in his lap. She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. They talked in hushed whispers that no one else could hear, tucking their heads close.

"I want that. I want to be stupid in love for years." Bucky announced leaning back on his elbows. "I want to be the old couple that people say are a disgrace because they still can't keep their hands off each other."

Alice looked up at him surprised. She had always pegged him as a bit of a playboy, and whatever was between them was just a flirtation. "You do?"

Bucky plucked one of the flowers out of her crown. "You don't?"

Alice blushed and dropped her eyes to the book in her lap.

Bucky was able to resist the need to lick his lips. Behind those lovely eyes, there was a lot going on. She was intelligent, perhaps too intelligent for a guy like him. She had to be courageous, otherwise she wouldn't be out here; she'd be safe and sound at home.

But, despite her ability to speak a good game, she could be quite timid compared to the girls he was used to. He was afraid that if he pushed too hard, he'd drive her away, which was the last thing he wanted. He lay back in the grass. "What are you reading anyway?"

"Tristan and Isolde. It's the most beautiful love story about a knight who falls in love with a queen. But she's married to his king and they can't be together ..."

Before she could get carried away, Alice trailed off. When it came to literature, she had a tendency to gush. The majority of the men stopped paying attention to her and ultimately stopped talking to her. Her mother had even told her face to face that she didn't care about the novels Alice loved. Bucky seemed different, but she didn't want to risk what they had. 

"It is one of my favorites." She said with a small smile.

"Sounds interesting." Bucky wrapped an arm around her hips and dragged her in so her back was supported by his side. It sounded like the sort of thing the nuns would try to make him read and Steve would end up walking him through the day before the assignment was due so he didn't fail the class. "You can carry on. I'm sure I'll get the idea."

Alice flushed and began a new chapter. Since college, she hadn't read aloud. It was a soothing feeling. Bucky's fingertips made languid circles on her side while the gentle lyrics of the romantic story floated through the air.

After three-quarters of a chapter, Bucky's fingers came to a halt. Alice lowered her head. With his arm still over her and a smile on his lips, he was fast asleep. He was wearing the flower from her crown behind his ear. 

Stupid in love, he had said.

It sounded more fantasy-like than her novel.

But she'd always been a dreamer, with romance and adventure novels being her favourite pastime. She'd never been able to say no to a happily ever after and had always wished for her own. Perhaps not the grand, epic romance she had imagined as a girl.

But something settled and warm and happy - like falling asleep in the sunlight in a field of wildflowers.

༻ ❁ ༺

July 8th, 1943

One thing the war could not stop was the US postal service. Apparently Nazi ordinance fell into the same category as wind and rains and icy sleet. Mail delivery to the front could be sporadic, but they made it through.

Today's was a very special delivery for Bucky. Letters from his ma, from his sister Rebecca, and for the first time since he'd shipped out, a envelope from Steve.

Bucky started with the letter from Steve. No offense to his ma or his baby sister, but he knew what they were going to say. 

Things are fine, keep your spirits up, we miss you, we're thinking of you. 

Steve on the other hand was a mystery. Since Bucky's departure, they hadn't written to one other. Moreover, the envelope was huge. He ripped it open and discovered a stack of comic books as well as a message written on thick paper torn from a sketchbook.

Bucky made a snide remark about the comic books.  That was the case with all of them. Overblown story lines link ridiculous, hyper-patriotic visuals. 

'Steve Rogers is  
C A P T A I N   A M E R I C A!'

Steve appeared to be doing well for himself. Bucky put down the comic books and opened the letter.

Bucky,

You know, I think this is the first letter I've ever written to you. Why would I have written before? You were always right there for anything important enough to put on paper.

Still stupid that this is my first letter. You've been gone for months.

I've been busy. I got a job. A real one. Or at least one that is of more use than collecting scrap metal. I'm working for the war office. In the propaganda department. Maybe you saw? They said they were going to send some of the comic books to the front.

Senator Brandt claims that it is because of me that public opinion and war bond sales have soared. I find it funny at time. When guys like you are putting their lives on the line, it's like pretending.

The show is on the road, and I can't sleep on the train for the life of me. It feels like someone is knocking on my door every ten minutes with notes from the stage manager, choreographer, writer, and director. And once they leave me alone for the night the parade of girls starts. Chorus girls! Hordes of them, I swear.

God Bucky, you'd be so proud. I have talked to more girls in the past week than I have in the rest of my life. The only problem is I don't think any of them are actually interested in me. 

They are all looking for the hero from the comic books, not some scrawny kid from Brooklyn.

But then again, it isn't anything like what you're going through.

Write back, jerk. I miss my best friend.

Steve

PS: How the hell do you write a letter to a girl you only kind of know? I like her, but she didn't actually ask me to write.

He was smiling when Alice found him, a softer, more genuinely happy expression than she'd seen him wear for a while. "Good news?"

"You could say that." Bucky beamed up at her.

First, the good news: Steve was doing alright and had found a job that allowed him to feel like he was making a difference.

Second, his favourite nurse had been looking for him. It always gave him a thrill when she came looking for him instead of the other way around.

"Gifts from home?" Alice was pretty sure her heart was going to explode from the effect of having that smile turned on her.

He nodded. "Here. I want to show you something." Bucky pulled her into his lap. She'd appreciate this. He set the top comic book in her hands. "This is my best friend."

She gave him an incredulous look "Your best friend is a comic book hero?"

"Nah. He draws them. They named the idiot in tights after him and everything."

Her face lit up in interest as she turned back to the book, flipping through the colourful pages. "Your friend is really talented. These are amazing!"

Bucky beamed with pride. He couldn't help himself when his closest friend was finally achieving what he'd always desired to do. Not strictly propaganda, but art - inspiring people. And he could contribute to the war effort like he always wanted. He wasn't on the front lines, thank God, but he made a difference in his own way. And now his art was on display for all to see.

"This is fantastic," Alice smiled, glancing up at him. And something in her softened at his absolute delight in what his friend had accomplished. "Hey, if your friend's the artist, maybe you'll get a cameo!"

Bucky laughed. "I'd really rather not. If that's what he put himself in, I shudder to think of the kind of getup the little punk would put me in."

"Aw, you don't want to wear matching spangly tights?" She teased, nudging him playfully.

"Absolutely not."

"Aw, but you'd look so sweet if you matched." She teased, straightening his collar.

Right now, he could kiss her. If he only cocked his head slightly. Their lips would find each other. 

Don't blow this. Take it slow. She's worth it. 

By brushing his fingers through her hair, he reached a compromise. "Come to the dance with me tomorrow."

"I can't." Alice sighed and tucked her head under his chin.

"You don't want to dance with me?" Bucky chuckled, running his fingers down her arms.

She did want to dance with him again. Far more than she should probably admit to. Unfortunately, this time she didn't have much choice in the matter. "I'm working the night shift all week."

"Hmm. You know, I think I feel a stomach ache coming on." Bucky kissed the point of her shoulder. "I should probably be put under observation for the next 48 hours."