Chapter 2: Sergeant James Barnes, ma'am.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC
Word Count: 1,364
Rating: As a whole, Stardust is rated E due to mature themes (smut, trauma, violence, etc.). Content warnings can be found directly on applicable chapters. Please be mindful of your media consumption; take care of yourself.
Chapter: 2/__
NOVEMBER 13, 1943 — LONDON — DANICA
I enter the building we use as our base, following the sound of Steve’s voice.
“…and the sixth one was about here, thirty, forty miles west of the Maginot Line.”
Under Peggy’s observation, he makes a mark on a giant map, which is then whisked away by a Specialist or Agent I’m not familiar with.
“I just got a quick look,” Steve tells Peggy.
She raises a brow at him. “Well, nobody’s perfect,” she replies, her lips curving briefly into a small smile.
She walks towards me, and I catch Steve’s gaze lingering on her before he turns and joins us. We make our way to one of several briefing rooms; Colonel Phillips meets us there, and I see that the map Steve was marking is laid across the main tables. We approach, with Steve essentially acting as a narrator of sorts.
“These are the weapon factories we know about. Sergeant Barnes said that HYDRA shipped all the parts to another facility that isn’t on this map.”
In the days since Steve returned with the rescued troops, I’ve learned that Sergeant Barnes is the dark-haired man who called for cheers for Captain America. Apparently, the pair have been the best of friends since childhood…which explains Steve’s determination to carry out that rescue mission.
“Agent Magennis, coordinate with SOE; Agent Carter, coordinate with MI6. I want every Allied eyeball looking for that main HYDRA base,” Colonel Phillips says as he walks into another room, our trio trailing behind him.
“What about us?” Peggy asks.
“We are going to set a fire under Johann Schmidt’s ass.” He pauses as a blonde Agent—whose name I don’t know—hands him a stack of papers, ogling Steve as she does so. “What do you say, Rogers? It’s your map. You think you can wipe HYDRA off of it?”
Steve turns to the map, then back to the Colonel. “Yes, sir. I’ll need a team.”
“We’re already putting together the best men,” Colonel Phillips replies, perusing the papers the blonde handed him, lifting his gaze to Steve as he ends his sentence.
“With all due respect sir, so am I.”
While Steve and the Colonel discuss, Peggy and I head off to complete our tasks of coordinating with our various agencies. The rest of the day passes relatively quickly, engrossed as I am in my work and the goings-on around me. When it’s time to leave, Peggy comes to collect me for our walk back to our block of flats.
“I overheard several of the men talking about having a drink at Whip & Fiddle this evening. I thought that perhaps you and I would do the same.”
The smirk on her face isn’t lost on me, nor is the gleam in her eyes. “Oh, so you want to put on that red dress you showed me last night, and go see Steve,” I tease, drawing out his name in a sing-song tone. “I suppose I could find something suitable to wear,” I continue.
“Odds are good that Sergeant Barnes will be there…you can finally meet the man.”
“Don’t even attempt to play Cupid, Margaret,” I snark.
“Call me Margaret again and I will,” she retorts.
When we enter Whip & Fiddle, several of the men—who were engaged in rather boisterous singing—fall silent. As we move through the rooms, I spot Steve and Sergeant Barnes at the bar. I hang back as we approach, wanting to let Peggy have her moment. While she moves towards the two men, I settle into one of the chairs at a little table tucked into the corner, not too far from the bar doorway. Seated with my back to said doorway, I can’t see what’s going on, though I can hear—just barely—the conversation.
“Captain.”
“Agent Carter.”
I hear the clack of Peggy’s heels as she takes the few steps into the bar.
“Ma'am,” I hear Sergeant Barnes say.
“Howard has some equipment for you to try. Tomorrow morning?” Peggy asks.
“Sounds good,” Steve replies.
There’s a pause, then Peggy speaks again. “I see your top squad is prepping for duty.”
“You don’t like music?” the Sergeant asks.
“I do, actually.”
I turn in my chair, looking into the bar as Peggy continues, seeing her gaze fixed on Steve.
“I might even, when this is all over, go dancing.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Barnes asks; Peggy ignores him, still looking at Steve.
“The right partner. Oh-eight-hundred, Captain,” she says, before turning and making her exit.
“Yes, ma'am. I’ll be there,” Steve’s response carries after her.
She joins me at the table, settling into the chair opposite mine. As I turn to face her, I hear Sergeant Barnes speak again.
“I’m invisible. I’m-I’m turning into you. It’s like a horrible dream.”
‘Definitely an operator,' the thought flits through my mind.
“Don’t take it so hard,” I hear Steve reply. “Maybe she’s got a friend.”
I miss the rest of their conversation as Peggy and I fall into our own. Soon, the same men begin singing again, and it doesn’t take long for most of the other patrons to join in. After a bit, I tell Peggy I’m going to get us some drinks, and she nods.
“I’ll have a—”
“Cognac. I know.” I pause, unable to resist a good-natured snark. “Ms. 'I like my alcohol made from grapes, not grain’.”
Peggy shakes her head and huffs, but I see a grin tugging at her lips. “Thank you.”
With a nod, I make my way to the bar, where the bartender immediately takes my order.
“A cognac, please. And a whiskey—Bushmills, if you have it—neat. Thank you.”
The bartender turns away to prepare the drinks; in my peripheral vision, I see Steve and Sergeant Barnes rise from their stools and make their way over to me.
“Agent Magennis,” Steve greets. “Good evening.”
“Good evening, Captain Rogers.”
“Agent Magennis, allow me to officially introduce Ser—”
“Sergeant James Barnes, ma'am,” he interjects.
“Agent Danica Magennis,” I reply.
“A cognac and a Bushmill’s, neat,” the bartender says, placing a snifter and a tumbler on the polished wood bar.
“Put them on my tab,” Steve tells the man, who nods then turns his attention to his other patrons.
“Thank you, Captain. I’m sure Agent Carter would like to thank you as well. Perhaps you could deliver her cognac?”
“You’re welcome. And I’d be glad to.” He nods. “Have a good evening, ma'am.” He claps the Sergeant on the shoulder, then takes the snifter of cognac and heads towards Peggy.
As I turn towards the bar and lift my glass, Barnes speaks.
“Whiskey…you sure you can handle that, sugar?”
“Yes.”
“Really?” I don’t miss the slight note of surprise in the Sergeant’s tone. “Figured a dame like you’d prefer wine, maybe gin…or cognac like your friend.”
“I see,” I turn to him. “And what else do you figure?”
“That a gal as pretty as you shouldn’t be sitting at a table in the corner.”
'Don’t swoon, don’t swoon…keep it together. He might be a dreamboat, but he’s also a rouser, Danica.’
“Maybe I like the corner,” I reply.
“Maybe you do.” He pauses, his eyes roving over me. “But I’d be more than happy for you to join me,” he gestures to the barstool he vacated.
“Hmm,” I reply, pretending to consider. “No.”
“Wh—”
“I saw you and Char—Nurse Lane the other day. I’m not inter—”
“Were you watching me, doll?” he smirks.
Much to my annoyance, I feel my cheeks heat.
'So much for keeping it together,' I think.
“You were in the middle of an Army camp, in broad daylight. Anyone would have noticed the pair of you.”
“But anyone didn’t…you did.”
“Being observant is part of my job, Sergeant. And again, the pair of you weren’t exactly discreet.”
“There was nothing to be discreet about, Agent.”
I can’t help but scoff. “Yes, I’m sure all you two did was discuss the weather.”
The bitter tinge of my tone causes me to cringe inwardly. I see the Sergeant open his mouth to reply; before he can, I continue. “Good night, Sergeant Barnes.”
With my drink in hand, I turn on my heel and walk away.
