A/N - Here's a festive one-shot as requested by @natsforbiddenluver, a glimpse into what could have been for Betty and Bucky if fate had taken them down a different path. There's fluff, sweetness, love, and spice - and then the angst, it had to happen, but it's after the row of Christmas trees so you can avoid it if you want to.
Happy holidays ❤️
San Ciascian, 1945
Breath fogged in the icy mountain air as Steve stared through the window into the kitchen of the mountain chalet they'd all began to think of as home. The orange glow from the large fireplace and the single lamp showed the two figures inside like a scene from a Christmas card. His enhanced hearing allowed him to hear exactly what the couple were saying. He tried to tune out their words but couldn't and so he stayed, watching the scene unfold before him.
His sister stood in front of her husband, his best friend, looking so sad and small, her teeth worrying her bottom lip, a far cry from the usual firecracker persona that Betty Rogers usually projected. He knew the moment her tears began to fall when Bucky pulled her tightly to his chest, his forehead pressed against her hair. She'd asked him not to go. For the first time ever, she'd asked him not to follow Steve, but to stay. With her. Safe.
Of course the crazy fool had said no, having vowed to follow Steve wherever he needed to in order to crush the threat of HYDRA, and Steve's heart twisted in his chest when Betty nodded her understanding and acceptance, choking down a sob and turning her head away. He heard when Bucky started to softly hum and sway them gently around the kitchen, offering as much comfort as he could to the wife he adored so much. Gabe arrived at the kitchen doorway and gave Bucky a two minute warning, to which Bucky nodded but as he turned his head back to Betty Steve saw the glimmer of tears on his cheeks.
A crunch of snow from the side of the house alerted him to another presence, Dugan, the heaviness of the footsteps giving him away. Steve turned towards his Corporal, who was taking in the same scene, his large moustache down-turned with shared sadness. He caught Steve's eye, seeing the desperation there and shook his head sadly. They both knew there was no way that Bucky would agree to remain behind, no matter who ordered him to.
Betty stood as the men left the chalet one by one, coats buttoned up to the neck to stave off winter's chill. Bucky was the last to leave, for once not walking at Steve's shoulder, and he made it six paces from the door before stalking back to Betty, grasping her face between his palms and giving her a fierce impassioned kiss. They were both breathing hard when he finally pulled away and Steve's eyes filled with emotion when he heard her words.
"I love you James. Just...be careful."
Bucky nodded and kissed her once more before joining the rest of the Team on the transport. Steve wiped over his face with the back of his hand, the moisture from his tears stinging his icy cheeks. He caught Dugan's eye, who nodded imperceptibly, before he turned around to his friend. Bucky was staring back down the road towards the lights of the chalet and the lone figure silhouetted in the glow of the doorway.
"Buck?" He said, but Bucky didn't turn around until the chalet had disappeared from view.
"Yeah?" He answered distractedly.
"We need to go over the mission details again. There's been a slight change of plan..."
The sky had turned to shades of grey and rose when Betty heard the unmistakable rumble of the transport jeep pulling up outside the chalet. She leapt out of the chair with an excited smile at Marghi, throwing her sock repair behind her, and raced to the door, casting it wide open despite the freezing temperatures. She danced on her toes, peering out into the twilight. Dugan, Gabe, Monty, and Frenchie, trudged through the snow towards her but there was none of the usual post-mission banter filling the evening air and she couldn't see the tall figures of Bucky or Steve anywhere. She scanned the men as they walked past her through the doorway, looking for signs of injury but couldn't detect any. Monty squeezed her shoulder as he passed and she smiled at him. He didn't return it and the look on his face made her chest tight and a feeling of dread settled in the pit of her stomach. She whipped her head round and peered out of the door again, craning her neck for signs of Bucky and Steve, but there was none.
"Steve's gone to give the mission report Bets," Gabe said quietly, but there was something about his tone that didn't sit right.
"When will they be back?" She asked. "Dinner'll be ready soon."
"Betty...sit down would you?" Monty asked kindly, in his clipped British tones.
"Why do I need to sit?" She responded, but did anyway, dropping into the chair at the head of the dining table.
A faint buzzing started in her head. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Gabe leaning over into Marghi's ear, whispering something in German. Betty's heart began to race at the look on Marghi's face. Dugan crouched in front of her.
"What's going on Timmy?" She whispered.
"Betty. Fuck." He smoothed his moustache in an automatic gesture and then grabbed her hands.
"Don't say it." She shook her head. "Whatever it is, I don't wanna hear it."
"Betty, I'm so sorry..." Dugan began, and then shook his head. "Steve should be here for this." The other guys moved to stand around her too. Dugan tried again.
"We couldn't...I mean...fuck. He's not here Betty. I'm so sorry." His voice cracked at the end.
"Who's not here Timmy?" she asked, although she didn't need to.
"It's Bucky, sweetheart. He fell. There was nothing anyone could do." He was rubbing her hands, but she barely felt it. She could hear sniffles from the room, but they didn't register.
"C-can I see him?" Her voice was barely a whisper.
"Yeah, he's...he's in the field hospital just outside town. He broke his left arm, leg, and cracked two ribs when he fell out of the tree." Dugan sighed, shaking his head.
"He fell? From a tree?" Betty stated, her face stony as she rose from the chair. Storming over to the coat rack near the door she grabbed her overcoat and shoved her arms inside the sleeves.
"Gimme the damn keys Dugan," she demanded, holding out her hand, her fingers curling angrily around the metal when he tossed them to her.
Dugan shook his head and a relieved sigh escaped his chest.
"I'm gonna fuckin' kill him, the foolish bastard," Betty muttered, as she trudged out into the snow.
New York, 1948
Flurries of white whipped against the window panes, the howling wind causing Betty to shiver despite the warmth of the apartment. She stirred distractedly at the milk warming in the pan in front of her as she listened out for familiar footsteps on the walkway outside. It was getting late and the sky had already darkened.
Reaching for some crusts of bread, she tore them into small chunks and put them into two little bowls decorated with Christmas trees and snowmen and then poured some of the milk on top of each, letting it soak into the bread. Sprinkling some sugar and cinnamon over the concoction, she set the bowls aside to cool and began to wash up the saucepan.
Her ears pricked up and relief bloomed in her chest as she finally heard the sound she had been listening out for. Stomping boots on the mat and the rattle of the door handle prompted a little voice to call out from the living room as the front door swung open.
"Papa's home!" The small blond boy rushed past the kitchen towards the swirl of frozen air and snowflakes that accompanied his father through the door.
"Woah, hold on there champ, let me get the door closed so we don't all freeze. Can't have our girls cold now, can we son?"
"No Papa, hurry! Are you cold Mama?" He asked with a comically serious expression.
Betty stood in the kitchen door, wiping her hands on her apron, and shook her head.
"No my darlin', we're all good here." She caught her husband's eye, a soft smile playing around her mouth as he shucked off his hat, scarf, and overcoat, and hung them on the peg by the door.
"Right son, ready?" He crouched and held his arms wide.
With a whoop and an airplane noise, the small boy ran in zigzags across the hallway to finally be swept up in his father's embrace.
"Had a good day Doll?" Bucky asked, striding over to press a kiss against her upturned cheek.
"Nothin' to complain about," she smiled, leaning into the arm he wound around her waist.
"How about you Abie? Have you had a good day?" Bucky turned to his son.
"Yes Papa. But Winnie, she been whinin' a lot." He pouted.
"Is that so?" Bucky fixed a serious expression onto his face.
"Yeah, but Mama said it's her teeths and she can't help it, so I let her use my pencils an she smiled." Abraham gave his father a sagely nod and Bucky had to hold in his laughter.
"You're a good lad Abie, and a great brother. Do you think you can go set the table for your Mama?"
"Course Papa, am big now." Bucky deposited him back on the floor and he raced off to complete his mission, talking himself through the steps as he went.
Bucky pulled off his leather gloves and his grey suit jacket, draping them over the telephone table and then turned to Betty, pulling her into his chest, his woollen sweater soft against her cheek. Hooking his finger under her chin he raised her face upwards and captured her mouth in a kiss that was definitely not for the eyes of their children and hummed in satisfaction.
"Snow's comin' down real thick out there Buck, I was a little worried you wouldn't make it back," Betty murmured against his mouth, giggling as his nipped his way along her jaw.
"Nothin' in the whole world would stop me from gettin' back to you, you know that, 'specially not a little bit of snow."
"Yeah, you say that now. Nearly lost your damn arm fallin' out of that tree in the snow." Betty teased, slapping his chest. "Go get your baby girl in her high chair and I'll dish up the supper."
"Yes Ma'am," Bucky sassed but complied with a wide grin.
Betty returned to the kitchen to dish up the savoury beef stew she'd prepared and her heart warmed even more as the cooing noises of Bucky talking to his tiny daughter filtered through from the living room.
They'd had to stay in Italy for six months whilst Bucky's injuries healed, old Marghi gladly offered them space to recover at her chalet. When they arrived back in Brooklyn with not one, but two, surprise announcements, Betty thought Winnifred Barnes was going to drop into a faint. A generous bonus from the SSR and kind support from Howard Stark allowed Bucky and Betty to purchase their apartment close to Bucky's family home. They kept on the Rogers' apartment mainly out of sentimentality but Betty had only visited once to collect the possessions that she'd left behind in such a hurry.
It wasn't long after the arrival of Abraham Steven that Bucky was offered a role working for the SSR, unable to return to active duty because of his injuries, much to Betty's relief. Betty also returned to the SSR part time, working with Stark's team to design new medical equipment for use in times of war. Grandma Barnes was more than happy to take care of her grandson but now Betty was taking some more time off work due to the arrival of one little Miss Winnifred Sarah, the image of her father with her dark curls, piercing blue eyes, and ready smile. Unless she was teething, as she was right then.
Balancing the four bowls in her arms, Betty carried the food into the living room and deposited them on the dining table passing one over to Bucky before settling their son in his chair with a napkin tucked down the front of his shirt.
"I love this Mama!" He announced as he dug into his bread and milk with enthusiasm.
Bucky took one of the little spoons and handed it to Winnie, who blatantly ignored it and stuck both her hands in her bowl before mashing them against her mouth, sucking greedily at them with a cheerful giggle.
"Definitely your child Buck, no doubt about it," Betty laughed.
Bucky turned to roll his eyes at her but quickly realised his mistake when he felt a warm chubby hand spread a slurry of bread and milk down his cheek.
"Thanks Sweet Girl, very tasty," he grinned, pretending to eat Winnie's hands, making both children laugh out loud.
"Here, wipe your face and get some hot food in you. I'll feed your mini-menace," Betty offered, rising to switch seats with him.
"It's the only time I'll willingly put you in the line of fire Doll," he laughed, settling down to enjoy the stew Betty had made. It tasted familiar but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.
When dinner was done Betty cleared the pots away whilst Bucky bathed the children and got them into their nightclothes. It was these small acts that he absolutely relished, knowing that there had been a time where he never thought he'd see Betty again, let alone have all of this to come home to. He was one of the lucky ones.
"Look at this handsome boy Mama," he said with pride as he carried Winnie back into the living room. "He combed his hair all by himself."
"You've done a wonderful job Abie, lookin' very smart." Betty smiled warmly at their son, and then shaking her head at the state of her husband, tie-less and devoid of his sweater, obvious casualties in the battle for clean children.
"Do we gets the milk an cookies now?" Abraham said, eying the small table by the Christmas tree that Betty had set out just for that purpose.
"Course we do. Winnie can get the cookie and Papa will help you pour the milk, OK?"
"OK," Abie nodded, and when he came back in from the kitchen carrying the glass ever so carefully in two hands, tongue stuck out in concentration, Betty's heart almost burst.
True to form, Winnie had to be distracted by the twinkling lights of the tree so that the delicious cookie she was determined to keep her hands on could be left on the plate for the big man in red.
Bucky read the children 'Twas the Night Before Christmas and then tucked them into their bed and crib, turning on the nightlight and shutting the door. Their sweet, sleepy babbling gradually tailed off into deep breathing and baby snuffles. Betty had poured them both a glass of wine and then retrieved the gifts they'd bought for them to put in the stockings that hung above the fireplace. A rocket and some new art supplies for Abraham, and a new bear and a wooden horse on wheels for little Winnie.
She settled on the couch, her back against the armrest and Bucky pulled her legs up to rest across his lap as they both breathed deeply in the quiet of the evening.
"Dinner was great Doll, I recognised the taste but I can't think where from."
"Oh," Betty flushed a little. "I tried to make that stew we had in Italy. I'm not sure I got the recipe quite right, there was a bit of a language barrier. You and Steve loved it so I thought I'd give it a shot."
"That's it! It was really good, you should make it again. It's gonna be strange havin' a Christmas without him," Bucky mused running his hand absentmindedly along Betty's legs.
"Yeah, but spendin' time in London with Peggy is a good thing," she replied. "Do you think he's finally gonna ask her?"
"I think she'll end up askin' him, the amount of time he's takin'," Bucky laughed.
"We got an invite to go to Dot and Reggie's for New Year. Do you wanna go?"
"Sounds nice. Could ask Ma to have the kids if you want? Get our glad rags on? Might even take you dancin'..." he wiggled his eyebrows and swigged some wine.
"I don't think I even remember how to dance now Baby, its been so long," Betty chuckled having a sip of her own.
"I'm ashamed Mrs Barnes, I've not been treatin' you right at all," Bucky said in mock horror, depositing his glass on one of the end tables and sliding out from under Betty's legs.
"What're you..." Betty started, but smiled softly when the he turned on the wireless, gentle Christmas music filling the air.
Bucky held out his hand and Betty placed hers within it, allowing him to pull her from the couch and into the circle of his arms. They swayed together, cherishing that rare moment of intimacy where they didn't have to be Mama and Papa, just Bucky and Betty. As the song changed he gripped her hand a little tighter and swung her out into a small twirl, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into him, her back resting against his chest.
"Some things you never forget Doll," he murmured in her ear as he nuzzled into her hair. "And I know you always get hot for me after dancin'."
"You love it." Betty stated, shifting her hips against him.
"I love you," he whispered against her skin, brushing his lips down her neck and along her collarbone.
Humming at the pleasure of his kiss, Betty lifted her arm to tangle through the hair at the back of Bucky's neck, playfully ruffling his usual smooth style. They still swayed along to the wireless, lost in the intimate moment that was only intensified when one of Bucky's hands found its way under the hem of Betty's red sweater, teasing along the soft skin of her belly. She chuckled low in her throat and turned in his arms, raising her face to him expectantly.
Kissing her gently at first, it quickly deepened as their hands began to trail over each other's bodies, the familiarity of their years together never diminishing their desire.
"Let's go to bed Baby," Betty whispered between kisses.
"To sleep or..." Bucky wiggled his eyebrows.
"Well I'm not tired so..." Betty grinned.
"Hold that thought Doll," he said enthusiastically.
Grabbing her hand, Bucky deposited Betty at their bedroom door before racing around the apartment, turning off lights and making sure the door was locked. Betty chuckled breathlessly as he made his way back to her.
"Done," he said, meeting her gaze. Their eye locked for heartbeat and then they were moving towards each other, lips crashing together. Betty wound her arm around Bucky's neck whilst he cradled her face in his hands. With their lips still joined she walked backwards, leading him into their bedroom, and Bucky kicked the door closed behind them.
Breaking their kiss, Betty stared into the ocean depths of his eyes, as she kicked off her socks and slippers and unfastened the buttons of his shirt, pulling it from his pants and sliding it over his shoulders. Pulling him over to the bed, she sat on the edge and he followed, toeing off his own footwear as he went.
Betty reached her hand behind his neck, drawing him into another kiss as her other hand traced along his collarbone and down over his shoulder and arm, her fingers feeling the star-like scar that resided there, a lasting memorial of his fall from the tree, where a branch had impaled him. He'd almost lost his arm that day. Both of Bucky's hands were on her waist, holding her tighter as their kiss grew in intensity. One hand slipped under her sweater again, stroking along the line of bare skin at the edge of her pants.
Running her hands down his sides, Betty made quick work of unfastening his belt and pants, and then lifted her arms as Bucky drew her sweater over her head. He let out a groan and nuzzled his face between her breasts.
"I fuckin' love these," he mumbled, his voice muffled, and Betty couldn't help but laugh.
With a sudden gasp, Bucky pulled away from her, a look of startled realisation on his face. He scrambled off the bed and almost ran out of the room, trying to hold up his pants as he went. Betty propped herself up on her elbows and stared after him, hearing a hurried clatter from the other room.
"Bucky, what the hell...?" She whisper-shouted.
He sauntered back in a second later, wiping off a milk moustache with the back of his hand, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
"Nearly forgot the cookie and milk, Doll. Couldn't have the kids wakin' up tomorrow thinkin' Santa didn't want their treats."
"Get back over here you absolute fuckin' menace," Betty demanded, taking off her pants and scooting backwards onto the bed.
With a salacious grin he pulled off his undershirt and pants and then crawled onto the bed after her, settling on his heels between her thighs.
"You're still so damn beautiful," he breathed, running his hands up the length of her legs.
"You're pretty damn fine yourself Barnes," she murmured, raising herself up into his arms, kissing him more urgently now.
He removed her bra and then laid her back down on the soft blankets. Sweeping his hands down over her breasts she gasped as his fingers found her sensitive nipples. He kissed his way down her neck and across her chest, her heartbeat so powerful that she was sure he would be able to feel it.
Replacing one hand with his mouth, Betty moaned aloud at the sensation and tangled her fingers in his hair as Bucky ran his hand over her stomach to the elastic of her underwear, playing along the edge. He rolled his eyes up to look at her, lips curving in a smile around her breast.
"Please" she murmured in encouragement as he hooked his fingers under the elastic.
Lifting her hips to aid him, Bucky slid the satin of her underwear down her legs, smoothing his hands back upwards towards her core. His fingers slid between her folds, finding that sensitive spot within and he groaned with desire around her breast as he felt how slick she was already. Betty moaned as he stroked her there, already feeling her pleasure build.
He pressed a finger into her, slowly moving it in and out. Betty rocked her hips in encouragement and he added another, all the while this thumb circling and pressing. Capturing her moans with his mouth, he turned his wrist and curved his fingers so that they worked over that spot inside her. She traced frantic patterns on his back with her hands as the pleasure built within, rocking her hips slightly to the movement of his fingers. The pressure built until it crashed over her and she wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer, wanting to melt into him.
Bucky sat back on his heels and gazed at her glowing face, her hair a wild tumbled halo. After all these years she still took his breath away. She smiled a lazy smile back at him and stretched her arms languorously.
"You OK there, Doll?" he murmured.
"Mmm hmmm." Betty responded, eyes raking over his chiselled torso.
Betty watched, fascinated by the effortless way he moved, as he wrapped his hand around his length and pumped his fist a few times, resting his other hand at the side of her head. She raised herself up a little on her elbows, looking down their bodies that were so close and he followed her gaze. Betty snaked one arm around his neck, pulling him down and crashing her lips against his. Her act closed the gap between them, the contact making them groan together.
Bucky stilled a moment as he guided himself towards her entrance and she spread her legs wider for him, tilting her hips and gasping as he made contact. He slid all the way into her, nearly climaxing on the spot at the way she clenched around him. Betty's eyes fluttered, threatening to close, but she didn't want to miss a single expression on his face.
"God, Betty," he whispered as he started to move and the lust, satisfaction, and love he felt was echoed in her expression.
She pushed her hips up to meet his and he pushed right back, matching each other as they always had. Betty's hands roamed everywhere, as if she were memorising every curve of him. Neither of them were quiet, not this time, and every noise that fell from their lips only served to spur them onwards. Bucky kept up the rhythm, his head dropping to nip at her collarbone, and Betty let her head fall back, tangling the fingers of one hand in his hair.
"You feel so good," she moaned into his ear, tightening her fingers as his lips quickly found hers again, both of them gasping for air through their kisses.
She lifted her leg up on to his hip, crying out at the depth of the contact. He ran his hand down to her thigh, gripping it with an almost bruising intensity. She could tell he was close as his thrusts became more erratic, muttering her name between breaths and she felt that delicious tightening rising in her again. She lifted her other leg then, the closeness of them giving her the perfect amount of pressure to send her hurtling over the edge of her climax. Feeling her come apart around him was enough to bring Bucky to his own completion. His hips snapped upwards in one final motion, his eyes squeezing shut as he stilled, a glorious moan spilling from him. They were both trembling as they started to come down from their high, and Bucky rolled to the side, drawing Betty tightly to his chest.
She pecked little kisses across his nose and cheeks, making him chuckle shakily, before she snuggled in against him, relishing the warmth of his skin against hers.
"I think this could be the best feelin' in the world," she mumbled into his chest, the scattering of hairs tickling against her cheek. Bucky ran his hand up and down her side, still needing to touch her.
"I'm never going to stop wantin' to feel you like this." He pulled the blanket up over them and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"Love you, Doll," he mumbled, as post-orgasm tiredness started to claim them both.
"Love you too Baby," she whispered back, letting the warmth and security of Bucky's embrace comfort her as she drifted off to sleep.
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A shaft of sunlight fell across Betty's face, rousing her from sleep. Eyes still shut, she reached out her hand, sliding it across in search of her husband but the bed was empty and the sheets cold. She smiled a little, listening out for the familiar sound of Bucky talking to Winnie as he bustled about in the kitchen, making coffee and toast, waiting for Abraham's excited squeal when he saw that Santa had been.
As she became more awake, more aware, something discordant poked at the edges of her consciousness. Something was wrong. A bird trilled outside the window. In New York, in the middle of winter.
"No," she whispered out loud as realisation began to dawn.
Betty tried desperately to fall back to sleep, to drift back into that perfect glimpse of the future she should have had, but it was futile. The fading remnants of the vision that had felt so real had already grown too diaphanous to hold on to. She sat up in bed with her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and sobbed as her heart shattered. Not even the warmth of the Wakandan morning could ease the ache in her soul.
Bucky jolted awake, chest heaving, his mind whirling from the dream he'd had. Putting one hand on the marble floor to ground himself, he tried to calm his racing heart. This dream had been different from his usual nightmares, although just as torturous in its loveliness, a beautiful vision of what life could have been like for him if fate had taken a different turn.
It made a sick sort of sense that his mind had used Betty as the pattern for his wife. They'd spent so much time together during their time in Wakanda, and she'd been in his life for much longer than that. If he'd had the opportunity he would have married someone like her. Who was he trying to fool, she wouldn't ever have looked at him like that, her brother's best friend and constant pain in her ass.
Cursing his shattered mind for the thousandth time that week he changed his clothes and then folded the blankets he used as his bed on the floor, stacking them neatly in the corner. He almost didn't pick up the package wrapped in red paper, his confidence failing at the last minute, but he straightened his back and grabbed it as he walked out of his bedroom towards the living area of the palace's guest wing.
Betty was already there, sipping on a mug of coffee. She looked drained, her face pale and her eyes red-rimmed. She glanced up as he entered the room, offering him a tight smile before her eyes slid back to whatever she was reading on her phone.
"Rough night?" He asked gently, as he sat opposite her at the table.
"Somethin' like that," she mumbled in response, sliding a second coffee across the table towards him.
"Thanks."
He curled his hand around the mug, his fingers drumming a nervous tattoo on the hot ceramic. Drawing in a breath he steeled himself to speak.
"Betty?" She looked up at him then. "I know they don't celebrate Christmas in Wakanda but seein' as we're not Wakandan I...I got somethin' for you." He flushed as he let go of the mug and fished in his pocket for the small, red parcel and passed it to her across the table.
Betty eyebrows raised in surprise as she took the gift, a wry chuckle welling from her lips.
"Great minds think alike, I got you somethin' too."
She reached under the table and withdrew a small package wrapped in brown paper with a shiny green bow on the top, crinkling enticingly as she slid it towards him. It squished a little under Bucky's fingers as he took it from her, letting him know there was something soft inside. His lips raised in a surprised smile.
"Shall we?" She asked.
With a small nod of encouragement from Bucky, she slid her thumb underneath the tape to loosen it. The wrapping came off easily to reveal a small frame.
Bucky followed her lead, opening his own gift, the action a little difficult with only one hand. He eventually managed to tear open the paper and four crisp, white handkerchiefs tumbled onto the table, each monogrammed in the corner with his initials.
"Did you make these?" He asked in awe, happiness blooming in his chest when she nodded shyly.
"I tried to make them like the ones..."
"Like the ones my Ma made," he whispered, the memory rising to the surface of the fog in his mind. "Thank you so much Betty."
"You're welcome," she replied, glancing down again at the frame in her hand.
Turning it over, Betty realised it was a sketch of the outside of the apartment building in Brooklyn where she and Steve had lived so many years before. She peered at the signature in the corner of the drawing, JBB. Bucky had drawn it for her.
"I love it Bucky, thank you," she breathed.
"I know it's not much but I seemed to recall havin' taken some art classes," he smiled wryly. "It's not perfect, it's not easy to draw with one arm, but..." he shrugged.
"It is perfect," she whispered, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.
"Merry Christmas Betty," he said softly.
"Merry Christmas Buck," she replied.
They sat a while longer, neither of them speaking, lost as they were in their own thoughts. Bucky tried to drive the images of dream Betty from his mind, it wasn't exactly respectful to be imagining her like that at the breakfast table, or at all. Betty's mind also drifted back to her dream, but she wished hard and prayed to every God she could think of that the guy in front of her would finally remember everything, what they meant to each other, how much she really did love him, and their wedding day...