Smoke. Burning. People barking orders. Familiar voices. Shaggy dark hair. Synchronized breathing.

I almost think I'm back in time, with everything blurring together, until I realize I haven't time travelled. I'm still in 2015, halfway through the year. What I think I'm in is just a memory. But one thing is throwing me off.

I smell smoke.

I sit up immediately to find no one next to me in bed. Panicking, fearing the worst, I jump out of bed in the longest night shirt ever and run down the hall. The bathroom door is open, so either Bucky is in the living room, kitchen, basement, or not in the house. Has Hydra found us? Are they flushing us out?

I'm expecting thick smoke to overtake me, make me hack until I pass out. None of that happens, though I can't get the smell out of my nose. I practically take myself out with the corner as I look frantically into the kitchen and den room.

I groan, exasperated, to find out that my anxiety is all for nothing. The cottage isn't burning down to the ground, though it could very soon if Bucky doesn't put out the fire he just made. He panics, clearly not used to food fires. He takes the pan of whatever it is he was trying to cook and tosses it into the sink. Water pours inside, and I can hear the sizzle as the fire goes out. Bucky grips the counter, sighing in relief.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

He starts, nearly falling down. I take in his appearance. His hair is disheveled and back in a ponytail, and he neglected to put on a shirt this morning. Not that I'm complaining, because what he wore last night is what I've got as a nightgown right now.

"I-I was trying to cook breakfast," he stammers, going red and looking down at the floor.

"More like burn down the cottage." I cross to peek into the sink. Looks like he was trying his luck with bacon this morning. I sigh. "What's the occasion, Buck? You normally settle for cereal or toast."

"I wanted to try and do a little something for you, you know, since we've been together six months."

I turn to him, blue eyes widen. It's June 1st already? We've been together six months? My cheeks heat up. How could I be so ignorant about such a milestone? And I didn't think to plan anything for him. God, what is wrong with me?

"You forgot," he says blankly.

"Bucky, it wasn't on purpose," I whimper. "I'm so sorry!" I grab his hands gently. "Really, honey, I am. The days have blended in a lot lately and time got away from me." Tears well in my eyes. "God, I'm such a terrible girlfriend."

"No, you're not."

"What kind of a girlfriend forgets their six month anniversary?"

"Hey, hey, calm down, Dani," he whispers, pulling me to his bare chest. "I'm not mad at you, honestly I'm not. You're getting yourself worked up over a small thing."

"'Small thing'?" I croak. "Bucky, you've done so much for me. I should feel ashamed of myself for forgetting."

"Hey." He tilts my face up to kiss me tenderly. "It's okay, Dani." His expression falls slightly. "I hate to make you feel worse about yourself, but I got you a little something."

I moan inwardly. He reaches in his back pocket to put a small box in my hands. I automatically know this isn't a proposal, so I'm a little less frightened about what's inside.

I look down at the tiny box.

"Well, you have to open it, Dani," he teases me.

I choke out a laugh before I do. I feel like I'm missing something as I stare down at the jewelry. I look up at Bucky questioningly.

"They're dog tags," he explains, pulling the chain and the dog tags with it. "I always had this thought in mind, and I knew it would happen sometime. Just didn't think it'd be in two-thousand and fifteen of all years." He chuckles low in his throat. "I always had the idea of when I'd been with a girl for so long, I'd give her something special like this. I'd want to give her something really personal of mine. Of course, it would be much more sentimental if they were my actual tags, but I couldn't recover them."

My heart swells, and I refuse to cry. I don't want to make Bucky feel bad, I've already accidentally done so. I'm sure none of my past relationships ever felt so deep and emotional. Vanessa had never gone into detail about them.

"Mind putting them on me?" I ask.

With a timid grin, he takes the necklace from me, and I move my hair out of the way long enough for him to clip it. I tuck the tags into the shirt, feel their cool metal on my skin. I hug him tightly.

"Thank you, James," I murmur. He doesn't correct me on his name, which is a bit surprising. It's only the second time I've called him that anyway. "I swear to you, I'll make it up to you." I look up at him. "I promise."

"Dani, you really don't have to," he presses. "I've got you, and that's a gift in itself."

I snort a laugh. "What sappy romance show have you been watching?"

"Do you really want me to answer?" He kisses me deeply. My rumbling stomach ruins the moment.

"Do you want to take another stab at it, or do you want to get something out?" I ask.

"Let's just settle for something easy that doesn't require setting things on fire."

* * *

"You said you wanted it cut."

"I changed my mind."

"You just don't trust me with scissors." I frown at him.

I managed to corner Bucky in the bathroom and decided to at least trim his hair. He'd been complaining about it every now and again, and I was at my breaking point with it. There was only one solution to the issue.

I'm kneeling in front of him, pulling his bangs down so I can cut them evenly. His blue eyes watch me through his hair.

"What makes you qualified to do this anyway?" he retorts.

"I've got the scissors, and I don't trust you to try and cut it yourself. God only knows what the end result would be." I tousle his bangs to shake out any loose dark strands.

As I concentrate on making sure I don't ruin his hair, my mind wanders to S.H.I.E.L.D. and our status. Hydra and their search. They'll never give up hunting us, they'll be relentless. We'll be persistent, do everything in our power to keep out of their hands. Sure, Hydra can capture any agents they want, but in the end we know who they're really after. At this point, I know they want Bucky back. Me, I can't say the same.

Do they even know I survived the ambush? Would they have written me off as dead after they regrouped and lost me to S.H.I.E.L.D.? Did any of the Hydra agents recognize me during the Helicarrier fiasco? Had Vanessa's shooter identified me?

"Dani."

"Hmm?"

"Something wrong?"

"Just thinking."

Bucky brushes off his pants, keeping them hair-free. "About what?"

"Stuff that was almost long forgotten about."

His lips press together in a thin line, like he's reading my mind. "I see."

"They haven't given up."

"It's not in their nature to. They won't until they find us."

I set the scissors down on the floor beside me, grab his face, and put his forehead against mine. "They've got to be waiting for something, Bucky. We've been safe for too long."

"Maybe. Maybe they're just not looking in the right place for us." He shrugs. "Let's hope it stays that way."

I nod. A disturbing thought comes to me. What if Hydra thinks to find my parents and use them for information? They would only use them most likely if they were aware that I'm still alive. It's easy to predict Hydra to a certain degree, afterwards it's a guessing game.

Bucky reaches for my necklace, pulling out the dog tags, holding them. We both look down.

"I was drafted, you know. I didn't enlist," he murmurs. "I only made it seem like I enlisted just because of Steve." A ghost of a smile creeps onto his face. "Look where it's gotten me."

"I actually didn't know that," I say. I close his hand around the tags with one of my own. "I'm never taking these off, Buck."

"There was actually one more thing that I wanted to do before the night was over."

"What's that?"

"It doesn't require leaving, I promise."

"Okay...?"

He pecks me on the lips before leaving the bathroom, leaving me to clean up the mess. It doesn't take long, so I don't bother to mutter comments under my breath about it. I faintly hear music coming from the living room. A little confused, I venture out to the living room to find Bucky watching me expectantly. He's got a hand out for me.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"I think I need to have one dance with my girl." His grin widens. Blush crawls into my cheeks.

His girl. It's got a nice ring to it.

I get coaxed to him, and he grabs me, leading me to him. Older music is playing thanks to one of the music channels on the TV. Bucky has a hand of mine in his own, the other at my hip. My arm is a bit uncomfortable at being so high up on his shoulder, but I learn to live with it. I lean the top of my head against his cheek.

We slowly move in a tight circle. The crooning voice almost lulls me to sleep.

"You've done so much, Buck," I whisper. "You didn't have to go through all this trouble just for me."

"I'm more than happy to. You're worth it, Danielle."

I pull my head back to kiss him. We're still turning. The music seems to fade from my ears, the entire cottage ceases to exist. He sighs against my mouth and then rests his head on my shoulder. I kiss his ear lovingly, massage the back of his scalp.

I can picture Vanessa watching us somehow, whether I pretend she's still alive and watching from the hall or from outside with binoculars, or whether I believe she's watching from wherever she is. I can only begin to imagine what she thinks of this picture, of how Bucky and I have made it to this point.

But I think I can assume one thing: dead or alive, Vanessa would approve.  

**These Ducky feels, though <3

Oh, and I decided to dedicate this chapter to @thecastlebuilder since, a while back, I read her Bucky Barnes fan fiction (which I thoroughly enjoyed by the way, go read it if you haven't gotten the chance to) and as I was writing this story, the dog tag idea kind of popped into my head. I figured it was only fair that I gave her the credit for that idea :)**