Bucky was outside when he saw Steve walking towards his house.

"Hiya pal!"  he shouted as he jogged over to him.

   "Hi Bucky!" he responded.

   "I'm sorry for soundin like I'm pitying you," Bucky said right off the bat, wanting to put that behind them, "I'll try not to act like yer ma," he added, chuckling.

   Steve grinned, "It's fine...I was a...little bit of a punk," Steve responded, hesitant to take ownership.

   "A little bit?" Bucky said glaring at him.

   "Okay, you were trying to help me but I was sick and tired and I was a big punk. Ya happy now?" Steve responded spitting out the words as quickly as possible. Though he was reluctant, his apology was sincere.

   "Yeah...but you're not big," Bucky razzed.

   "Are ya here to pick on me?" Steve questioned punching his arm and Bucky laughed.

   "I'm just fooling," he told Steve.  "Are ya feelin better?"

   "Yeah, I'm only a little stuffed up now," he responded. After a short pause he commented, "Boy is it hot out," changing the subject.

   "There's a big heat wave comin folks!  This week'll set records!"  Bucky impersonated the man who had said this on the radio.  "Betcha Howard Beach is full of people," he added.

   "Let's make our own beach!" Steve suggesting as the idea popped into his head.

   "Sure!"  Bucky responded excitedly, going inside to he his father's shovel.  They started under the shade of his tree house tree to avoid the water getting hot. This process took a while since they only had one tool, but Steve and Bucky cycled back and forth until they had dug a hole about four feet in diameter and three feet deep.  Now they needed water. Bucky's parents were busy, so he went straight to the kitchen.  "C'mon Steve help me fill up these pots," he said gesturing for him to come in. 

The pots that they had filled with cold water had spilled over the sides as they struggled with the weight of them. They'd have to clean the floor later.

   "Full enough," Steve commented 20 minutes later.  He was fatigued from transporting all of that water and eager to reap the benefits of their hard work.  He took off his shirt and got in their glorified mud puddle, careful not to splash any of the water they had transported out.  

   Bucky set down the pot he had been carrying and did the same. "Howard Beach has met its match," he commented, proudly leaning against the wall of their pit.

   Moments later, there was a thump from in the house.

   "Did we ever wipe up that puddle in the kitchen?" Steve asked nervously.

   "Aw no," Bucky responded getting out.  He walked back up to a widow and looked in the kitchen.  "Hi Pop," he said nervously.  His father was holding his wrist.  "I'm sorry...I spilled some water..."

              ***************************
   Bucky came outside a while later with a towel in his hand.  His eyes were bloodshot.  "My ma said ya can shower in the bathroom, and you can borrow a pair 'a my shorts."  Steve was covered in mud from his waist down.

   "Thanks Buck," Steve said, attempting to rub a layer of mud off of himself before walking inside.  He offered a sympathetic look as he passed, knowing Bucky had gotten punished for something that they had both had a hand in.

****************************

   "Next time let's just ask to go to the beach," Bucky told Steve when he came back out.

  "I'm sorry..." Steve said still feeling guilty that he hadn't gotten punished, even though it was his idea.

   "It's alright," Bucky responded.

   "Who fell?" Steve asked.

   "My Pop," Bucky answered his eyes still looking downward in regret.

   "Is he okay?" questioned Steve, voice sounding concerned.

   "He hurt his wrist...but it'll heal," Buck responded, trying to cheer Steve up.

   "Gee I'm sorry," Steve said rubbing the back of his neck.

   "It's okay," Bucky paused, he looked up to Steve. "I gotta fill this hole," he announced with determination in his voice.

   "I can help," Steve offered.

   "Thanks pal..." Bucky accepted and began his 'shift' of digging.

"With ya till the end of the line Buck," Steve explained with a smile.