Music is "Dusk Till Dawn" by Kurt Hugo Schneider feat. Kirsten Collins & Blake Rose.

Picture is Sebastian Stan as Bucky Barnes.

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CHAPTER ELEVEN: Duet

I awake to a feeling I haven't had in decades: complete and utter peace. What I'd told Bucky the night before, what he'd told me, made falling asleep a little easier. I could barely keep my eyes open after we finished talking, and even though it was sunrise, Bucky helped me cover the windows and we went back to sleep.

When we awoke later in the day, just past noon, I found myself smiling without a reason. I didn't want a reason. I didn't want to find a single thing that made me happy. True happiness is smiling even though nothing particularly amazing has happened. When you can find joy in waking up, that's when you know you are truly, wholeheartedly happy.

Bucky and I took the afternoon slow, taking our time to give personal touches to our new home. I started by hanging photographs from my lifetime, pictures of Rose and Dum Dum with their kids, Peggy and hers, Howard and Maria, and Grant. I even found old pictures of Bucky, Steve, Rose, and I to hang in the bedroom. Bucky helps me put them on the walls, asking about each photograph as he hands it to me.

"What about this one?" he asks as he hands me a picture of Rose, Peggy, and I in 1949, four years after the end of the War.

I laugh as I take the frame from his hand. In the picture, Peggy is cutting the ribbon in front of the first SHIELD building, the one located in Brooklyn. Rose and I stand beside her, each of us with a big smile on our faces.

"That was a good day," I tell him, hanging the frame on the nail I'd previously hammered into the wall next to the front door. "That's the opening ceremony of the first SHIELD building. After the SSR shut down, Peggy, Howard, Phillips, and I started SHIELD. Rose was a huge help as well, and we were there to support the first director as she unveiled the facility to the twenty agents we had."

"Only twenty?" Bucky laughs, placing his hand on his hip.

I hop down from the small step-ladder. "I know. Long time ago. Dum Dum took the picture." I point to the little shadow in the corner of the photograph. "You can see his bloody thumb in the frame right there."

Bucky laughs louder, shaking his head. "That's Dum Dum, all right. Damn idiot, I'm glad he and Rose had a good life."

I pick up the next picture from the stack, my voice lowering. "Me, too."

Bucky gestures to a picture we'd already hung, one of me and Peggy and her and Daniel's wedding. "Peggy got hitched, too?"

"And Howard," I reply. "Everyone we knew eventually did. Rose and Dum Dum, Peggy, Howard, even the Commandos eventually settled down. They were all duets. Everyone except for me. I was still a solo piece."

Bucky gives me a sad smile. "You know I wouldn't have been mad if you'd moved on with someone else, right?"

I nod. "I know. I just...never found anyone as good as you. Besides, it wouldn't be fair to them. I was a mess. I was just lucky Rose and Dum Dum stuck around."

Bucky nods, eyes flickering to a picture of his little sister and Dum Dum a few months before the latter died. "When did...?"

"When did Dum Dum pass?" I complete, and Bucky nods wordlessly. I move the ladder to the section of wall between the two front windows. "December 2007. He was ninety-three. We knew it was going to happen soon. He had been sick for a little while. Then, one night, he passed in his sleep. Without pain or suffering." I pause for a moment, turning to look up at Bucky. "It's been eleven years."

Bucky's blue eyes soften. "How did Rosie take it?"

I shrug, turning away to hang the next picture, a portrait of Rose on her wedding day, the beautiful bride that she was. "About as well as any wife would when her husband dies. They'd been married for sixty years. A love like that, it never dies. Rose knew that. Still, it hurt like bloody hell."

Bucky turns his gaze to the portrait of his little sister. "She was a beautiful bride."

"She was," I nod. "She was happy, Bucky. She had a good life."

"Does she know I'm...alive?"

I nod again. "I've visited her a lot since we found out you were alive. I wasn't the one to tell her that, though. That was Steve. After the Insight carriers went down, I was in an immortality coma for two years. During that time, Steve told her what happened."

"How did she take it?" he asks nervously.

I turn to him and reach for his hand. "She was heartbroken, I won't lie. Like me, she blamed herself for what happened. So did Steve. We all thought it was our fault that you became the Winter Soldier."

"Does she know I'm back now?" His eyes flicker to mine. "Does she know we're in Wakanda?"

I bite my lower lip. "She does. She's asked to come here, but I told her you weren't awake or ready to see people. I didn't want you going Winter Soldier on her and hurting her. You couldn't live with yourself if you did that."

"What about now?"

"I don't see any reason why not now," I reply. "I'll ask Shuri or T'Challa about it today when we go into the city. I'm sure they'd be glad to fly Rose out here for an extended stay, hopefully without Tony or the government figuring anything out."

Bucky rolls his eyes. "Like they could stop T'Challa anyway.

I let a chuckle slip past my lips. "Good point, Darling."

Bucky turns towards the kitchen table for the other objects to place around the house as I place the last frame--the infamous picture of Steve, Rose, Bucky and I at the Brooklyn Dodgers game in May 1941--on the wall of the kitchen. Bucky pulls a piece of leather string from his pocket and attempts to pull his hair back, failing miserably with one hand. He makes a sound of frustration and tries again.

I laugh and step down from the ladder, walking over to him. "Can I help you?"

Bucky gives a playful glare and plops down into one of the kitchen chairs. "Yes, please."

I shake my head at his stubbornness and step behind the chair, taking the string of leather from his hand. From practice with my own long hair, I pull the majority of Bucky's hair to the back of his head and use the string to tie it there. I tighten the string as I finish, placing my hands on my hips victoriously.

"If your hair gets any longer, it will be as long as mine," I tease.

"I know," Bucky groans. "I should cut it."

"Or not," I suggest with a smirk as I wrap my arms around his shoulders. "I like it."

Bucky glances over his shoulder at me with a boyish smirk on his face. "Well, if you like it, then it stays."

I roll my eyes and press a kiss to his cheek, pulling my arms back from around his shoulders. "Come on, you. Put some proper clothes on. I need to run some errands, and you're coming with me."

"Do I get a choice?" Bucky asks playfully as I waltz towards the bathroom to get a shower.

I peak my head back out just to reply, "Nope!" in the cheeriest voice I can.

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"So, what errands are we runnin'?" Bucky asks as we enter the city limits.

I brush the stray dark flyaways out of my eyes and tighten the elaborate, Wakandan headscarf at the nape of my neck. "Just a couple, really. Shuri got most everything we could ever need already, but there are a few things we need to purchase."

"Like?"

"Like some more clothes for you, for one. You can't wear the same three shirts and trousers for the rest of your life, James. You'll look like a hobo."

Bucky scoffs as we walk along the center of the market district, brushing the busy people both selling and buying items of every kind. "I don't need a million shirts, Emma. I'm fine with just a few things."

I turn towards him, stalling in the middle of the street with a soft glare in my eyes. "You've had nothing to your name for the past several decades. No, not even your name. Please, for me, buy a few more things than you absolutely need? Having a few extra items of clothing won't kill you."

Bucky looks me in the eye, then nods with a small smile. "All right, but no long sleeved shirts. My lack-of left arm is painfully fucking obvious enough."

I burst into unexpected laughter and shake my head, grabbing Bucky's hand as we continue down the street. "You have a deal, Mr. Barnes."

"What else do we need?"

"Well, in case you've forgotten, our anniversary is tomorrow. I want to get a few things to prepare a special meal, maybe even a bottle of wine. And I desperately need some Earl Grey tea. You know I can't live without it."

Bucky rolls his eyes. "Oh, yeah. I remember. You go through the good ole Early Grey like it's goin' out of style." I playfully jab him in the ribs. "What's our anniversary, now? Seventy-something?"

"Technically, it's seventy-four," I reply, laughing when I see the look of horror on Bucky's face. "Yeah, I know right? We're so old."

"Does it really count if you thought I was dead, and I was...him?" Bucky winces.

I shrug. "If we take out all that time, then we'll be celebrating our...fifth. We were married a year before you...um...fell, and you started remembering me again in 2014. So, fifth anniversary."

Bucky starts nodding as I duck into an open and covered clothing shop. "Yeah, let's go with five. That sounds a hell of a lot better than seventy-four."

With a roll of my eyes, I move into the shop further, spotting the men's tops. I tug my husband over to the stack of shirts, much to his chagrin. "What kind of tops do you like?" I inquire, gesturing to the variety of colors and patterns in front of us.

Bucky shoves his hand into his pockets and shrugs. "Same as always, I guess. I was never really into all this stuff. Dressing was so much easier in the 40s. You pick a shirt and a pair of pants and voila, everything magically matches."

I resist the urge to make a sound of frustration. "That's because men's clothing had no color...or fun. Here, try this!" I pick up a brightly colored green shirt with intricate Wakandan patterns. When I show it to Bucky, he just looks at me with a dead expression. "No? Okay. Um..." I put the green shirt down and pick up a grey, sleeveless tank top. "How about this?"

Bucky's expression shifts from concern to compliance, and he nods. "That's better than the clown suit you had before."

"James Buchanan Barnes," I mumble under my breath, a warning.

"Okay, okay. I'll behave. How about this, you just pick out whatever you want me to wear and I'll wear them, 'kay? Just go easy on the colors. I'll go find the wine and tea. I saw a booth across the street that might have 'em."

"Perfect." I drape the sleeveless top across my forearm and turn to Bucky, moving my finger in a "come here" motion. Bucky leans down, and I lean up to give him a chaste kiss. "Hurry back. I love you."

He grins. "Love you, too, Doll." Bucky leans back in, quickly pressing his lips to mine once again, catching me off-guard. When he pulls back, he hurries out of the shop and across the street, a wide grin on his face.

I turn back to the clothes with a blush across my cheeks and a smile plastered on my face. I'm sure I look like a lovesick fool, but that's what I am. I'm okay with that.

I pick out five or six shirts and the same number of trousers. I also pick out a few extra pairs of socks, a sweatshirt (despite Bucky's refusal to wear long sleeves due to his lack-of left appendage), and a second pair of boots in case his get messy. When I put everything on the counter to pay, I spot hair ties by the register and add them to my pile. Between the two of us, we'll be running out of them soon.

After everything is put into a paper bag, I leave the clothing shop and search for Bucky in the grocery store across the street. The man that owns the store tells me that Bucky bought a bottle of wine and two boxes of tea and left. When I inquire where he went, all the man can tell me is the general direction. I thank him and hurry back out into the streets.

I hear a familiar voice calling my name and turn sharply towards the voice. Bucky waves me over a few booths to an outdoor diner of sorts, a huge grin on his face. I jog over to him, never more thankful to have picked a comfortable, blue jumpsuit to wear instead of a dress.

"I was looking for you," I tell him. "You can't just run off like that, Bucky. You scared me."

Bucky motions for me to take a seat across from him, under the shade of the tarp overhead. "Sorry, Doll," he tells me, taking the paper bag from my grasp. "I got everything I needed, and I could see you were still looking, so I wandered. Found this place, and guess what?" Bucky gestures excitedly to the sign at the back of the diner, one that shows a list of milkshake flavors. "They have ice cream. Do you know how long it's been since I had a milkshake? Too fucking long, that's how long."

I relax into the chair, laughing at his child-like enthusiasm for ice cream. "Just like the good ole days, yes?" I reply.

Bucky winks at me. "That's what I thought." A waiter comes over with two milkshakes, and Bucky thanks him. He slides the strawberry one in my direction, savoring the vanilla one for himself. "You still like strawberry, right?"

I nod, taking a sip through the straw. "Of course!"

"Phew," Bucky sighs, playfully wiping his brow as if he were worried. "If you didn't, I'd wonder where Emma Barnes was and who the hell you were."

I laugh as we enjoy our dessert. "This is really nice," I tell him after a few minutes of silence. "Thank you, Darling."

Bucky reaches across the table and takes my hand, running his thumb across my knuckles. "You're welcome, Doll."

I smile as he smiles, lacing my fingers through his. And in that moment, I swore I'd try to make every day like this one.

END CHAPTER ELEVEN: Duet.