Saving Grace

Chapter VI

August 6, 1942

Bucky quickly mounted the steps to the Rogers' apartment. The sun was just barely beginning to tint the deep blue of the eastern sky a deep purple and pink. He knocked quietly on the door and Steve let him in. Grace's suitcase and Army-issued medical pack sat in the corner near the door. Bucky gulped slightly at the sight of the medic helmet resting on top. The thought of Grace going into the warzone set his heart racing and his nerves on edge more than anything else in his life ever had.

"Morning, Bucky," her warm voice floated in from the kitchen. "Eggs will be ready in a minute."

"You're leaving this morning, and you're still cooking breakfast?" He turned to Steve, who shrugged.

"She insisted."

"I haven't left yet, so life will go on just as usual, Buck," she said. "Sit down, fellas, it's ready."

After their breakfast of eggs, bacon, and fresh biscuits, they prepared to leave for the docks. "You got everything, Babydoll?" Bucky asked, picking up the small suitcase as Steve slung the pack on his shoulders.

"Yes, I doubled and triple checked last night, and one last time this morning," Grace nodded firmly, taking her helmet from Bucky. The ride to the docks was a quiet one. Bucky drove, and Steve and Grace sat up front, her luggage placed on the backseat. Steve had one arm around Grace, holding her close as she rested her head on his shoulder. Although Grace always dismissed their worries, Bucky could tell she was terrified of what lay ahead. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her clasp her hands in her lap and her knuckles turn white. He reached over, without taking his off the road, and covered her heads with one of his own. He felt her fingers shift and wrap themselves around his. She squeezed his hand in both of hers to let him know she got his silent message. He looked over at her for a moment.

"You'll be just fine, okay?" he murmured.

"Thanks, Sarge," she answered, squeezing his hand again, then releasing it. At the docks, she first had to check in with her unit, the 85th Field Hospital. After nearly, forty-five minutes of waiting, they reached the table.

"Name and papers," the officer asked in clipped, impatient tones.

"Norma Grace Rogers, " Grace promptly replied, handing him the envelope containing her orders.

"You've brought no more than one suitcase, your medical pack, and your Army-issued helmet?"

"Yes, sir." Bucky answered, motioning to the luggage in his hand and the pack Steve carried.

"Your sending party, Miss?"

"Yes, sir," Grace smiled. "Sergeant Barnes here won't be too far behind us as soon as he gets his orders." She gestured toward Bucky. The officer checked her off his list.

"Safe travels, Nurse Rogers," he said, handing her papers back. "Head straight to the embarkation area, please. Grace thanked him and quickly led the boys away. Pushing through the crowd, the soon reached their destination.

"You're not really allowed beyond this point, fellas," Grace said, nodding toward the rope barricade.

"So this is good-bye, then." Steve comment morosely. With a sigh, he drew Grace into a tight hug, his left hand cradling her head. "You come home safe, you hear me?" he choked out, kissing her cheek.

"Of course," she replied in a trembling voice. "All of the stupid is staying here with you two."

"That's probably a good thing." Steve tried to smile. "I love you, Gracie." He hugged her once more before relinquishing her to Bucky.

"Take of yourself, Grace," Bucky said, taking her hands in his. Grace nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She stared down at their clasped hands, trying not to cry.

"Hey, chin up," he slipped a finger under her chin and gently raised her face. "This will all be over before we know it." She nodded mutely and he grinned roguishly down at her. "Make sure the boys over there know you aren't a pushover* and leave a few Nazis for me, okay?"

"I will," she replied, a sob slipping out.

"Ah, geez, we're not worth crying over." Bucky yanked his handkerchief out of his pocket and quickly wiped her tears away.

"Oh, Buck, my make-up will ruin it." She chuckled, quickly whipping her own out of her clutch and dabbing her eyes. "I promised myself I wouldn't make a scene, and here I am doing just that."

Suddenly, a whistle sound nearby.

"They've started boarding; I should go." Grace said, stuffing her clutch in the top of her pack. Steve drew her in for one last hug, and helped her settle the large medical pack on her shoulders. She grabbed her suitcase and began to walk away, but stopped when she realized that she had somehow ended up with two handkerchiefs in her hand. Quickly, she dashed back to Bucky, handing his hankie back to him. As she turned to leave, he grabbed her wrist. Her eyes flew up to his. For the first time in her life, Bucky had a look of uncertainty; she could see conflict in his gray eyes. Then, he pulled her in for a bone-crushing hug. Grace held onto the back of his jacket tightly, and she almost could have sworn she felt his lips press against the top of her head. Just as quickly as he had pulled her in, he released her, but not before slipping something metallic into her hand and wrapping her fingers around it.

"Good-bye, Babydoll," He murmured and turned to leave.

"See you soon, Sarge," she answered. He sent her a grin and a salute over his shoulder as he and Steve disappeared into the crowd.

It was not until she found her bunk and collapsed onto it that she discovered what it was that Bucky had given her. It was a silver locket, almost twice as big as her thumbnail. It was the perfect size; big enough to put pictures in, but not so big that it was gawdy. The front was engraved with a floral pattern of her favorite flowers, roses. Opening it she found a picture of Steve tucked in to one side, a picture of Bucky in his uniform tucked into the other side, and a note, which she unfolded and read it.

Consider this your birthday and Christmas present from us fellas. We figured it was the
perfect way of sending a bit of us with you. Can't have you forgetting Steve and I, can we?

We love you, and are so proud of you we'd probably pop buttons off our shirts if we
weren't so darn worried for you. Be careful and stay safe, Babydoll. I'll be there soon.

Your "Sarge",
Bucky Barnes

Tears filled her eyes anew as she read the note. Raising the handkerchief she still held to wipe away her tears, she suddenly realized that it was not her handkerchief. Her's had a pink rose and her initials, in blue, embroidered on the corner and was edged with a scallop trim she had crocheted out of the same blue thread as she had used on her initials. The handkerchief in her hand had a simple line of charcoal gray around the edge and the initials J.B.B. in the corner. It was one of the handkerchiefs from a set of three that she had embroidered for Bucky three years before as a Christmas present. She raised it to her face; she could faintly smell his cologne on it. With nothing to do before dinner, Grace just lay there and fell asleep gazing at the little photographs of her boys and breathing the scent of Bucky's cologne on the handkerchief.

When they left the dock, Bucky dropped Steve off at his work, a small comic book company for whom Steve did some illustrations, and then headed to work himself. It was not until that evening, when he returned home that he found Grace's handkerchief in his inner jacket pocket. He could not help but smile slightly when he held it up to his nose and found that he could smell her floral perfume on it. He set it aside on his dresser, telling himself he'd return it to Steve next time he saw him.

40's slang:

Pushover - A person easily convinced or seduced; easily swayed.