Music is "Hold Me" by The Sweeplings.

Picture is Tatiana Maslany as Emma Barnes.

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CHAPTER TWELVE: Longing

"Emma, are you awake?"

I pull the covers over my head with a groan, curling up under them to escape the incessant voice calling my name.

"Go. Away."

A deep laugh sounds behind me, then the bed dips on the other side. I tighten my grip on the cover as I turn away from the person on the mattress, wanting nothing more than to sleep a little while longer.

"Doll," Bucky states, clearly amused, "it's almost noon. You need to get up."

I shake my head from under the covers, making a stubborn sound of defiance. "Am tired. Need sleep."

Bucky attempts to pull the covers off me, but I pull away from him. Instead, he slips under the covers and slides his arm around my middle. "You can't sleep all day," he attempts to remind me. "We need to try to get back on a normal sleep schedule."

"You're one to bloody talk," I mutter, keeping my eyes closed. "Didn't you sleep for over half a century or something?"

"Really, Emma?"

"Too soon?"

Bucky shakes his head and tightens his arm, pulling me back into him. "Happy anniversary, Doll."

My eyes open to that. That's right, that's today. April fourth. Our anniversary.

"Bloody hell, how could I forget?" I exclaim, shooting up in the bed, covers flying off both of us. I turn to Bucky with a big smile as he sits up, a look of amusement on his face. I throw my arms around him tightly. "Happy anniversary, Darling!"

Bucky gives a whole-hearted laugh, letting both of us fall backwards onto the mattress. I continue to hold onto him as his hand runs up and down my back. "Thought that might get you up," Bucky chuckles.

I pull back, only a few inches, to look down at his face. He's grinning widely, proud of himself that he got me up even though I'm still trying to catch up on the sleep we lost the day before due to our night-long conversation.

"You're so proud of yourself, aren't you?" I ask, brushing a strand of his long hair out of his face.

He nods. "Can't sleep this day away, Doll. Y'know, I know we've technically been married for seventy-four years or somethin' like that, but we never celebrated our anniversary together. Not once."

My smile falters when I realize what he says is true. Bucky and I were married in April of 1944. January of 1945 is when we thought he died, when he fell off the train and into the Alpine ravine below. And even when we found him again and freed him from HYDRA in Washington, he didn't remember me. I didn't see him again for two years. After the Civil War, we went into cryo-sleep. We've never gotten the chance to celebrate our anniversary together.

"That's true," I reply eventually. "Well, then we'll just have to make this one super special! What do you want to do today?"

"You've lived here longer than I have, after waking up a month before I did," Bucky replies. "What's there to do?"

My smile returns, an expression even more excited than the last one. "Let me get a shower, then we're going to have the best day ever. That sound good to you?"

Bucky smirks and arches an eyebrow playfully. "Sure I can't join you?"

I roll my eyes, give him a quick kiss, then jump up for the shower. "Behave, James."

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While getting ready for the day, I mentally go through the places Bucky and I could go, the things we could do, for our first celebrated anniversary. Wakanda has so much to offer, so many unique activities and locations. We could do anything, but this is our anniversary. I want it to be special.

I'd given this day some thought between the day I woke up and Bucky did. I didn't take my plans very seriously because I wasn't entirely sure that Bucky would be awake on April fourth. I didn't know if I would be spending this day alone, again, and I didn't want to give myself hope if there was none.

But he's awake now, so my plans can come to fruition. My thoughts linger on a few ideas, most of them being things that remind me of Brooklyn in the 30s and 40s, when Bucky and I weren't yet married, before the War took everything from us. Things like the outdoor movie theater not far from our home, the expansive parks outside the capital city, and the waterfalls in the middle of nowhere. Bucky would love all of it. But then again, as long as we're together, I don't care where we are or what we do.

All I want is him.

When I've finished getting ready--dressed in an old-fashioned navy circle skirt and white blouse, with my hair and makeup styled to 40s fashion--I find Bucky sitting on the bed with a book in hand. He, too, has changed clothes. He's wearing one of the shirts I picked out for him yesterday, the black T-shirt paired with dark jeans. He's also somehow managed to pull his hair back into a small, low ponytail.

The cover of the book in his grasp makes me laugh: The Twentieth Century for Dummies. He looks up at the sound, and his eyes widen. "Damn, Doll. You look amazing."

I blush and play with the hem of my blouse. "I was feeling sentimental."

Bucky puts the book on the nightstand and slides to the edge of the bed. He reaches out his right hand for me. I take it, and he pulls me closer. I stand between his knees, fingers laced with his, our gazes locked.

"I'm serious," he mumbles. "You look beautiful, Emma."

I lean down a bit to be eye-level with him, pressing a kiss on his cheek with a smile. "You clean up pretty well yourself, Darling."

"What can I say? My wife has great taste in clothes."

I roll my eyes and wrap my arms around his neck, leaning in for a kiss. He gladly gives it to me, arm moving to wrap around my waist.

I pull back after a few moments, pushing away from him with a grin. "Come on, it's time to have some fun!"

Bucky scoffs, "I thought we were, just now."

I shoot him a playfully sharp glance and tug his hand so he stands. "I'm serious." I grab my shoulder bag and put both our swimsuits inside, along with a comfortable picnic blanket. "I have some ideas for today, and I think you're going to adore them."

Bucky relents and lets me pull him towards the door. "Where are we going?"

I lace my fingers through his and turn us towards the theater downtown. From our house, it's only a few blocks into the city. Nothing is that far from anything else in Wakanda's capital. Everything is just as close as you need it.

"To the past."

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The movies playing at the outdoor theater are mostly African films made in Wakanda--with the notable exceptions of a few American, Indian, and Australian films--but Bucky and I are able to find the perfect movie to see for our anniversary. This is a film that came out when we first started dating, one we went to see several times in the theaters because we loved it so much.

The Wizard of Oz.

We find the showing that starts fifteen minutes after we arrive to the theater. There are multiple screens in a large clearing just outside the city. Thanks to Wakandan technology, a dome of thin glass covers the entire area. Once the movies start, the dome dims the light, turning the day into night.

There are a few dozen other people in the clearing, but most of the patrons are there to see the newest Wakandan blockbuster or the new American rom-com. Next to no one is in the line for The Wizard of Oz. For that, I'm thankful.

Feeling my stomach grumble, I turn to Bucky and ask, "Are you getting hungry? Because I sure am."

"I'm always hungry," Bucky replies with a hearty laugh.

"Hungry, or just bored?"

"Probably the latter."

"That's what I thought."

"But I am actually hungry right now. Did you have a place in mind?"

"Actually, no," I answer, looking around the clearing. A few meters away, I spot a booth selling burgers and hot dogs. I point to it with a grin. "Perfect!"

Bucky follows my finger and his eyes widen as he spots the burger joint. "Finally! Good old fashioned, unhealthy American food!"

With burgers and soda in hand, Bucky and I make our way towards the screen marked as The Wizard of Oz. We find a place in front of the screen, our backs to a small hill, and I pull the picnic blanket from my shoulder bag. I lay it on the ground, partly on the slight incline. The hill creates just enough lift so we can lie down and still see the screen.

The only other people in the room are two other groups, a pair of elderly women who appear to be sisters and another couple in their fifties. It makes me smile to see that Bucky and I aren't the only ones who like to watch old movies, even though I'm twice as old as the man and woman.

Bucky hands me the soda as the lights dim and the screen comes to life. Once again, I'm swept up in the tale of Dorothy and the wonderful land of Oz. The magic, the mystery, the music: all of it makes me completely sentimental.

I lean my head onto Bucky's shoulder half-way through as Dorothy starts singing about going to see the Wizard of Oz. The meal is long finished. All that matters now is being with him on our special day. Bucky even starts to sing along under his breath. It brings a smile to my face, not because he's the best singer in the world, but because I haven't heard him do so since 1945.

As the movie comes to an end, the other couples start to leave. The music continues to play. As I start to get up from my seat, Bucky's grasp on my hand doesn't release. I turn to him, but he tugs me back onto the blanket beside him. I relent, leaning back onto the ground.

"What's wrong?" I ask in a whisper, seeing his eyes still glued to the screen.

Bucky's thumb rubs soothing circles on the back of my hand, and he smiles. "Nothing. That's the best part."

Knowing exactly what he means, I turn to position myself towards him. I clasp my other over his and rest my head against the blanket, looking at him as he turns towards me. For a few moments, that's all we do.

"Are you happy?" I ask him.

Bucky's smile widens, and he nods. "More than I have been in a long, long time." He tilts his head slightly to the side. "Are you?"

I laugh at the question, happy tears threatening to fill my eyes. "I have you back. I have Grant and Steve. There's not a thing in the world that could make me happier. In fact, I'm so happy, sometimes I still wonder if this is a dream. A happy dream."

"It's not a dream, Emma. This is real. Trust me on this one." Bucky's grip on my hand tightens as he sighs contentedly. "The movie idea was perfect."

"That's not all I had in mind. That's just part one," I chuckle, nodding towards the exit.

Bucky arches his eyebrows in surprise. "There's more? Jeez, Doll, you're gonna spoil me."

I roll my eyes, and Bucky laughs. "Come along, you big oaf. I'll show you."

This time, Bucky allows me to pull him from the blanket. I fold it and place it back in my bag. He wraps his arm around my shoulders, and I slip mine around his middle. We walk side-by-side out of the theater, the sound of Oz still ringing in our ears.

END CHAPTER TWELVE: Longing.