Only One

one day

I've never been great with goodbyes.

It's really hard for me to let go of someone when they're right in front of you. It's no easier when you know they're leaving to go miles away. It's no easier knowing that they'll be fighting in a war that had no foreseeable end.

But today isn't about a goodbyes. Today is about a hellos.

I'm standing among a crowd of other women, many of them look to be around my age, others look like they're probably mothers of sons close to my age. But all of us are here with one common purpose, to greet the one's we loved as they return home.

The crowd grows more and more restless and excited as the army vans and busses start to round the corner. One by one the soldiers start to unload from the vehicles. People are shouting out names, pushing through the clumps of people without mercy.

I stand up on the balls of my feet, trying to get a better view. That's precisely when a seventy-something year old woman slams into me with her purse, knocking me to the side.

"Move it or loose it, fat ass, I don't have all day." She snaps, glaring at me.

"Excuse me?" I scoff, glaring right back at her.

"You heard me." She fights back, clutching her purse tightly to her chest. "Some of us have places to be and you and your fat ass are blocking the street."

My fists clench at my side on instinct, and I flex my fingers, forcing them out.

You can't hit a senior citizen, (Y/n), never hit a senior citizen.

"What do you have to get to that's so important that you'd push people out of the way?" I ask, voice full of sarcasm as I glance at my watch then back to her. "The early bird special doesn't start for another two hours."

Her eyes narrow as she scans up and down my body slowly. She takes in my dirt covered shoes and the spot where the hem of my dress meets me knee. Then her gaze returns to mine, as she takes a step towards me.

"I didn't know they were teaching prostitues how tell time." She says bitterly. "In my day they just locked you all up in cells where you belong."

Before I even realize what I'm doing, I'm taking a step towards her, and then another. I have no clue what I plan on doing when I get there. Snatching her purse and whacking her over the head seems like a good place to start. In the end, I don't get the chance to find out.

A strong pair of arms circles me from behind, lifting me up in the air and turning me away from the demon purse-grandma from hell. I fight against the hold on instinct, knowing what can happen to girls who are grabbed like this and torn off the street by strange men. I swivel around, craning my neck to see that the person holding me isn't in fact a stranger at all.

"Were you about to jump an old lady?" Bucky grins at me bemused, one eyebrow raised.

"She hit me with her purse and then called me a prostitute." I shrug, unapologetically.

Peaking around Bucky's frame, I see that the lady is still there, glaring at the pair of us. Bucky takes notice of where I'm looking and let's go of me so he can turn around to face her.

"I'm sorry about her." Bucky tells the purse-lady with his heart-stopping, world-must-be-ending-for-there-to-be-a-man-this-handsome smile as his head jerks back in my direction. The demon-grandma starts to fluster under the weight of it.

"I-uh. That's fine." She splutters out, seeming unsure of herself as she shuffles in place.

"I hope you have a nice day, ma'am." Bucky says, tipping his hat towards her.