Two Years Later

Warm, salty sea air caressed your face and tousled your hair in the early light. Resting your mug of coffee on the porch railing, you let your gaze wander over the sprawling city toward the rolling hills and beyond. It was in the stillness of the morning where you allowed yourself to marvel in the fact that you now called this place home. In a few weeks, it would be two years since you arrived Los Angeles without a clue and barely a plan. It was amazing to think back on the path you had taken, the struggles you've had, and the sacrifices you have made.

Pressing the mug to your lips, you took a sip and felt a presence behind you seconds before a pair of muscular arms wrapped around your waist.

"The ocean is that way, you know," he teased, hooking his thumb in the direction behind you.

Turning around inside his embrace, you peaked over his broad shoulder to see the large expanse of glittering blue water in your changed view. "Ah. There it is," you replied with a smile. "Good morning."

He muttered a morning greeting to you as well, pressing a kiss to your lips as his light blond scruff scratched your cheek lightly. "I've seen you do that before. Gaze toward the East like it holds all the answers. Why is that?" he questioned with his handsome brow slightly furrowed.

You let out a sigh with a shrug. "I'm not sure. Guess I'm still waiting for those answers," you spoke vaguely.

He eyed you for a moment, then pulling you in for a tight squeeze. "It's just after 7, by the way, don't you have that meeting at 8?"

"Damn, you're right. I better get going," you uttered, releasing his arms and pecking another kiss on his plush lips. You brushed past him, grinning at his blond bedhead. Very few got to see Steve in this imperfect state and you loved it.

You moved around each other in the bathroom and bedroom as you both got ready for the day. Selecting a pair of shoes, you slipped them on as you called out from inside your walk-in closet. "Steve, did you make a reservation for tonight?"

"Yes, I did. Last week," he confirmed, appearing in the doorway. "Your car is waiting out front."

"Thank you," you replied while looping earrings in your ears. Grabbing your bag, you took one last look in the mirror and headed for the door. "I'll see you tonight!"

"Good luck!" he called back as the door closed behind you.

____________

"Babe, we have to go, they'll give away our table. You know how these new restaurants are. "

"No, they won't. I'll be out in 5 minutes."

"You said that 20 minutes ago," you chastised Steve, still in disbelief that he spent more time in front of a mirror than you do. Tapping your fingers on the side table as you perched on the couch, you checked the time on your phone once again. It was then that you noticed a text notification you had missed, now knowing your ringer must have been off. As you opened it, your heart sank.

"But well worth the wait," Steve boldly declared with arms out and offering a full view of his muscular frame in a perfectly fitted suit. He did look amazing, but you were distracted and he picked up on your stricken expression. "What's wrong?"

You stood then, ripping your eyes from your phone screen. "My uncle died."

"Oh, Y/N. I'm so sorry," he offered as he stepped in front of you, rubbing a hand of comfort on your bare upper arm. "Is this on your mom or dad's side?" he asked. Steve knew quite a bit about your family, despite never having met them.

"Actually...he's not a blood relation. More like...a friend of the family. Honorary uncle," you replied, the wheels turning in your head now. "The funeral is in a few days. I think I can shift a few things around..."

"You're going?" Steve asked in surprise. "You haven't been back since you moved here, right?"

You shook your head. "I guess this is what it takes."

"Are you ready for that?"

Taking a deep breath, you met his eyes. "Yes. I think it's time."

Twenty minutes later, you had changed out of your dress and into lounge pants. You had quickly bought a plane ticket for early the following morning and now placed an open suitcase on the bed. Steve watched you pack from his perch at the foot of the bed. Still dressed in his suit with each perfect strand of hair in place, you took in his sparkling blue eyes and chiseled jaw. He was made for this town and you still couldn't believe he picked you.

"So, you'll be driving part of the way?" he asked, his eyes following your many trips from the closet and dresser as you placed each item in your bag.

"Yep. The soonest flight had a connection in Denver, anyway," you muttered with a finger to your lips as you scanned the mental list of everything you needed.

"How long do you think you'll be gone?"

"I'm not sure," you answered with a shrug. "I have to be back by Sunday at the latest. I moved all my meetings to next week, so..."

You saw him shift nervously out of the corner of your eye. "You know...I could come with you, if...if you want," he offered in a soft tone.

Frozen in place near the dresser, you turned his way but kept your gaze on the contents of your suitcase. "That's sweet of you. Steve..." you began, knowing this had to be said but that you almost felt crazy for feeling this way. "Maybe we should...cool things down a little. I mean, I'll be gone this week and you leave town at the end of the month..."

There was only silence and when you finally dared to look his way, you were surprised to see a soft smile upon his lips. "What's his name?"

Your mouth gaped open in shock. "Wha...I mean, who?" you asked when your power of speech returned.

"Come on, Y/N. We've been apart for long periods of time without one worrying about the other. The only reason I can think of is that you worry about running into an old flame and wanting to do the right thing by going unattached. You've always been straight-forward with me. It's one of the first things that drew me to you."

Fiddling with a camisole as you folded it again inside your suitcase, you thought back to when you received the news. Sadness hit you first, followed quickly by a need to be around family to give and receive comfort. Not long after was a flicker of an image behind your eyes: a kind smile and a pair of grey-blue eyes framed by damp brunet locks freshly cut by your hand. "Bucky," you finally spoke as you met Steve's eyes. "His name is Bucky."

He nodded in understanding as he stood. "How did you meet him?"

You were reluctant to share at first, telling the barest of details but once you began it all spilled out. That first meeting by the side of the road next to your broken-down car, your time spent in that small town and the people you met, and how quickly he became so important to you that he nearly derailed your plans. Hardly a day that went by where you didn't think about Bucky, even after all this time.

Steve listened to your story in silence, holding your hand in his for comfort. You now sat on the bed side by side as you described your goodbyes with Bucky, although you edited out the car sex in the Impala for Steve's benefit. "I'm sorry," you uttered, staring at his fingers threaded with yours in your lap.

"Don't be," he shook his head. "We all have that one person that we think about, wondering what might have been. The one that got away."

You stood up suddenly then, hands flying to your hair. "This is crazy! It was one weekend two years ago and I'm willing to let you go for the smallest of chances? I mean, he's probably married with kids by now. I doubt he'll even remember me..."

"Hey, hey," Steve stepped to your side. "If he spent even an hour with you, then he'd remember you, I know it. And...I think you should go for it. I want to be with you but I want ALL of you. If you don't go, he'll always be there. You'll always wonder. What kind of a name is Bucky anyway?"

You let out a small laugh. "It's a nickname. His first name is James."

"Oh. How do you get 'Bucky' out of 'James'?" Steve asked, perplexed.

Searching your memories, you had a moment of realization. "Um...I don't know. I never thought to ask."

"Well. Another question to be answered," Steve said with a smile.

You exhaled, releasing the tension that had built up over the past hour. Wrapping your arms around Steve, you curled into him with your head on his chest. He always gave the most amazing hugs. "Thank you. I'll call you."

"I hope you will," he muttered, pressing a kiss into your hair before he let go and turned to leave.

"Steve," you called out quickly and he turned your way. "What's her name?"

He offered a half-smile, his eyes unfocused in remembrance. "Peggy."

On that note he walked away and left you to finish packing.

__________________

When you left this town, with your windows down

And the wilderness inside

Let the exits pass, all the tar and glass

Till the road and sky align...

Less than 24 hours later, you were alone on a long stretch of empty highway with the wind in your hair. After touching down in Denver, you rented a car and headed East with butterflies in your stomach. It was true, most of the available flights did have a transfer in Denver but you could have flown to a city an hour away from your home town where your mom could pick you up. Instead you decided to make the drive alone.

Truthfully, you missed driving on the open road. You drove sometime in L.A. but it was more traffic than actual driving. You hadn't seen another car in an hour and it was heavenly. You had gotten used to the traffic and people and hustle of L.A., but you did miss the wide open spaces at times. As the city signs passed with decreasing numbers of miles until you would reach them, your stomach did a flip when a certain name popped up.

Despite your talk with Steve the night before, you had convinced yourself that you would drive right through to your mother's house. After all this time, you must have built up that one weekend to be much more than it was and now you felt that revisiting that town would bring it all crashing down. Was it better to keep the memories untouched or find out the truth of the present?

As often as you thought about him, you two hadn't had any contact since you left town that Monday morning. You had the number for the auto shop saved in your phone and every now and then, you found your finger hovering over the call button. You also knew that Bucky had your number saved in a file somewhere. He could have easily contacted you, but somehow he came to the same conclusion: hearing the other's voice didn't make the miles between you shrink. It was best to leave that weekend in the past.

However, as you reached the exit you found yourself putting on your turn signal and leaving the highway without much thought. Your unconscious mind knew what you had to do. It was just to say hello, you told yourself. Nothing more.

Turning into the dusty parking lot, you spotted him. He had his back to you as he leaned over to talk to someone in a car. You watched him say a few parting words before the car pulled away and he raised a hand in your direction. You heard his voice as you shakily opened the car door and stepped out.

"Evening. I'm about to close up shop for the night and from the purr of that engine, I can't imagine you're in need of my services so, what can I do for.....Y/N?" he asked in disbelief as he recognized you.

Pushing sunglasses up on top of your head, you greeted him with a smile. "Hi, Bucky."

As the shock wore off, a wide grin grew on Bucky's face as he rushed toward you, gathering you in a hug that swept you off your feet. Giggling in surprise, you held on to him as he spun you around once before settling you onto your feet again.

"Wow. It's so good to see you. You look incredible, Y/N. Almost didn't recognize you," Bucky said, taking a step back to look you over.

Glancing down at your own outfit, you thought back to the tattered shorts and t-shirts you had worn back then. Now, you were dressed in a classy pair of capris and wedged sandals with a white t-shirt and a blazer on top. Your hair style had changed as well along with the simple makeup you wore.

"I'm happy to see you, too, Bucky," you grinned. "You look..."

"...grease-covered and sweaty? So about the same?" he laughed.

You joined in with a chuckle. "Well, if anyone can pull off that look it's you."

There was a small lull in silence as you took in the reality of seeing him again.

"So, what brings you back to these parts?" he asked with hands stuffed in his jeans pockets.

You opened your mouth to answer, but in that moment a fat drop of water landed on your shoulder followed by a few on your head and arms. Glancing at Bucky, he had his face raised to the sky, now noticing the dark clouds that had gathered. You had checked the forecast from the road and you thought you had more time before the storm hit.

"Come inside for a minute," Bucky beckoned and you followed, barely stepping in the shop door before the heavens opened.

"Wow. Where did that come from?" you wondered, watching in awe as a sheet of water fell, obstructing the view across the street.

"Looks like you've forgotten how quickly storms can creep up on you," he teased, handing you a clean towel that you used to dab your face.

"I'm here for a funeral," you answered, turning away from the rain-splattered windows.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Who passed?" Bucky asked in concern.

"My uncle. Sort of. More of a family friend," you spoke, wandering around the waiting room. It hadn't changed much since you last saw it.

Before Bucky responded, a younger voice was heard echoing in the garage as it headed your way. "I'm heading out, Mr. Barnes. Unless you need me to..." the teenaged boy trailed off upon seeing you.

"Peter, you remember Y/N. Y/N, this is Peter. He's been helping out in the shop a few days a week," Bucky explained.

"Hi, Peter. Nice to see you again," you replied.

"I, um..hi, ma'am, it's good to, uh...." he cleared his throat, probably remembering the last time he saw you wearing only Bucky's shirt. Probably burned in his memory for life.

Bucky saved Peter from his awkward moment. "You can go on home, Pete. You're not riding your bike in this, though, I hope."

"N—no. Mr. Dugan is giving me a ride," Peter stammered.

Another man stepped into the front office just then, almost filling the wide doorway. He was barrel-chested with a ruddy complexion and the most spectacular mustache you'd ever seen. In his hands was a bowler hat, which you had never seen outside of a period film.

"Did you want me to lock up, Buck, or...Oh. Didn't know you had company. Tim Dugan," he introduced himself, offering his hand.

You shook it, "Y/N (Y/L/N). Nice to meet you."

"Y/N...wait, isn't that the girl..."

"Thanks, Pal, I'll lock up," Bucky interrupted loudly with a hard clap on his buddy's back.

"Okay. Night, boss," Dugan responded with a wink, donning his hat and stepping outside with Peter in tow.

"Anyway," Bucky continued, "I'm sorry to hear about your uncle. Did you make the drive, or..."

"Part of the way. I flew into Denver and then rented a car. Although, I'm not sure I can drive the rest of the way in this. I haven't driven in the rain in...well, anyway. A long time. I don't even know where the windshield wipers are in that car," you said, taking another look outside. "I wonder if I should get a room and wait for it to pass. My mom was expecting me tonight, though...Hopefully Wanda doesn't remember me," you joked as you turned back toward him.

He pulled a face. "Oh she'll definitely remember you. Doubt she'd want your business. Or mine, for that matter," he smiled sheepishly.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Why? What happened?"

He shook his head, "I'll tell you later. Maybe you could hunker down at my place for a few hours? I can give you a ride."

You cheeks warmed at the thought of his place, then turning back toward the windows. "Are you sure?" you asked, more a question for yourself than him.

"Yeah, it's no problem. Here, take my keys, the truck is around the side of the garage. I'll lock up real quick and join you," he said, handing you the keys.

"Do you have an umbrella or something?" you looked around.

He did the same, coming up empty, then handing you the previous day's newspaper with a shrug.

You rolled your eyes with a smile. "Thanks."

He chuckled and walked back into the office. Taking a deep breath, you clutched your purse to your chest and held the newspaper over your head, despite knowing staying dry was a lost cause. Opening the door with a push of your hip, you stepped outside into the deluge of rain and ran in your wedges to the pick up truck. Slipping the key in, you unlocked the door and jumped inside, dropping the wet newspaper to the floor.

You waited a few minutes until the driver's side door opened with a squeak and Bucky slid inside. Shaking his head, water droplets sprayed in your direction making you squeal in laughter, shielding your already damp self.

Bucky threw you a wide grin, feeling a familiar warmth inside you grow despite the chill seeping in from your wet clothes. He held out a hand and you gave him the keys with the engine roaring to life seconds later.

"Ready?"

"Ready," you replied, wondering what this unexpected night would bring.

______________

Well, it sounds like L.A. has been good to her, huh? Were you surprised to see who she was with out on the balcony? Do you think her gamble is worth it? That rain came out of nowhere, huh? ;) That truck ride should be interesting! I'd love to hear your thoughts! <3