Four weeks later
Bucky worked on the land. A lot. He liked doing it, and the kids from the little village loved to watch the White Wolf. Bucky let them. He didn't mind.
They didn't approach him.
Only when Grace was around. They liked her very well and sometimes they even talked in Xhosa. Bucky never understood, but Grace was still learning.
Every time she could find a moment where she was able to learn, she was complaining about the fact that this was the most difficult language she had ever studied.
As the days passed, Bucky became a real farmer. He had more goats now. Four, and two cows. Grace didn't know how he did it, but Bucky always waved it away when she asked.
When she came home - always at different times, she didn't really have a routine - Bucky was or asleep or working and sweaty in the hot sun, or inside doing something else.
But it was very good for him, the farm work. His muscles developed very well and he was as healthy as a horse, which Grace made sure of every week. She couldn't help it - it was like a need. She checked him every Sunday on his health.
At first Bucky didn't want her to, but when he saw her big, brown eyes begging him, he couldn't resist anymore. It was like when they first met. Grace was very professional and Bucky silent. And just like then, they used the word 'flower' if there was something wrong.
"How you're gonna reward me this time, for being a good patient?" he asked jokingly when Grace shone with a little lamp in his eye - he had been complaining about that he had a certain headache that day, and it started behind his eyes.
"I don't know," she said, and Bucky could tell she wasn't really here - she was way too concentrated.
"No sticker this time?" A little smile formed around her lips.
"I'm afraid not."
She shut off the little lamp. Check done.
"A story for a story," he said and got up from the dinner table he had been sitting on. Grace raised her brows.
"You're completely fine, if that's what you wanted to know," she said and turned to disinfected her hands. Bucky didn't say something about that, it was a thing she automatically did. She did it all day as a doctor, also in their little home - he liked discovering little things like that.
He smirked and Grace leaned against the sink.
"And I thought that we only did that once?" Bucky pursed his lips as he thought and approached her. He placed his arm around her and sighed.
"I don't care," he said. "I just want to know... what you're favourite colour is and why." Grace giggled and shook her head.
"I don't have a favourite colour," she said and walked out of his embrace, plopped on the couch and lifted her knees against her chest.
Bucky sat down next to her.
"Everyone has a favourite colour," he concluded and Grace rolled her eyes at him.
"I can't choose," she said and leaned with her head against her hand. "There are too many colours for me in this world to like. How can I pick one?"
Bucky softly laughed at her comment.
"Mine's brown," he said and Grace raised her brow. "I'm serious!"
"And why's that?" Grace moved a little closer to him. "When I think about brown I think about your brown goat you called Sam, because he's irritating and always making those annoying sounds." Bucky laughed - she was right.
"No, it's not my favourite colour because of the goat," he said and placed his arm around her shoulders, pulled her closer to him.
"Then why?" She looked up at him, with those beautiful eyes.
"Your eyes," he said, "are brown. A pretty colour brown. Like chocolate." Grace snickered and rolled with her eyes at him. "And it reminds me of my time period." Now his smile became a little sad and Grace moved her body so she could completely face him.
He talked about 'his old days' now and then, but there always was a certain sadness lurking around the corner. Bucky did not seem to have troubles with it, but it would never be easy enough.
"My dad always wore a brown jacket and smoked cigars with my uncle," he explained. "And I always wore brown suspenders. Brown was a very popular colour back then."
Grace tucked a stray of his hair behind his ear.
"I see," she mumbled. She took a deep breath. "Brown it is."
"And now, I want to hear what your favourite colour is," he said and flicked her nose - he loved doing that. She always pulled a funny face, without knowing it. It made him smile.
"I already told you," she said, "I don't have one."
"Then tell me why you don't." He wouldn't give up that easy. Grace looked at him and tried to hide her smile. She always tried when she didn't want to give him what he wanted, but secretly liked it.
Her eyebrows twitched in a way he never could, in a wavy way, and her lips would tremble to suppress that cute smile.
"A story for a story," he reminded her. "I told you one, now it's your turn."
And then she broke.
"Okay," she said. "You win. I need to play fair, after all." He nodded with a satisfied smile.
Bucky waited for Grace to start.
"When I was a little girl, I could never choose what to wear," she started. "I loved my clothes, and I wore them as much and long as possible. And I remember, that my mom came home one day with a legging and with little rainbow glittered boots." She laughed, but her eyes didn't really join in.
Bucky knew her mom died when she was very young. Not how, and not at what age she was. But whenever it came up, the sadness of that little girl creeped up at her. He wished he could do something about it.
"The legging was striped purple and green, and matched perfectly with my rainbow glittered boots. I wore that outfit every day because I loved it so much!"
"Every day?" he asked and played with a lock of her hair. Grace nodded.
"I never took them off, not the legging and neither the boots. I wore them in bed, to school, even when I took a shower they had to rip them off my body. And when the legging needed to go in the wash machine I was a really stubborn kid that ran away and hid somewhere." Bucky giggled.
"But I outgrew both one day. I was completely heartbroken. I didn't want to throw them away, but we had to." She raised her shoulders, like it was nothing. "I really liked it. That's why I can't choose a favourite colour, because of that."
Bucky raised his eyebrows and Grace hid her face behind her hair, blushing red.
"I feel completely stupid about it, but it's the truth." Bucky stroke the hair from her face, tugged it behind her ears so he could see her face clearly. The blush faded away.
"Couldn't you find new ones?" he curiously asked. Grace shook her head with a disappointment smile.
"I searched everywhere. Nowhere to be found." Her voice dropped a little and Bucky kissed her cheek.
"Perhaps," he said, "one day you'll find that legging again."
"Not the shoes," she said. "I loved them, but that would truly be the worst to wear. I would love to have that legging again though."
Bucky smirked.
"I'm sure you do."
- - -
One month later
Grace couldn't sleep that night. She didn't know why. Well, that wasn't entirely true.
Tom still didn't call back.
Grace almost tried to reach him every week, and he never let something know. No texts, emails nor phone calls. Absolutely nothing. But Kathie almost couldn't leave Grace alone.
She texted, called and send emails. Grace hadn't told about Bucky yet. Maybe she would one of these days, but probably not.
Grace looked at Bucky, who slept like a baby. He didn't spoon her that night, but lied next to her on his back. This night the light could stay off.
He almost didn't have any nightmares these nights. It was a record, he told her.
And still she didn't tell Bucky yet.
About Tomas.
But he knew Kat. They didn't actually talk, Kathie didn't even know that he was her lover, but Grace told about her.
Bucky asked about Kathie once, he loved to hear about Grace's best friend. She talked about Kathie sometimes, and called with her when he was around, but she didn't tell about Tom yet. Their first meeting, between Tom and Bucky, didn't go very well - it was also probably the last.
And it was also the last time Grace had seen him.
Slowly and silently, Grace got up. Like always, when she couldn't sleep at night, she had the need to eat something.
On her tiptoes she walked out of the bedroom. She didn't turn the light on in the little kitchen. It wasn't completely dark, she could see enough.
And still she bumped her toe against that damn table. Jumping on one foot and biting her lip so she wouldn't curse, she tried to stay as silent as possible.
She was afraid she would wake Bucky.
He worked so hard on the farm. He had been very tired this evening.
Grace opened the freezer and took out her ice cream. She craved for some ice cream - peach with mango flavour.
She sat down on the table, with her feet on the chair. Her toe hurt, but didn't bleed, luckily. Grace had no idea what time it was. Didn't care either.
The next day she had to be with her patient at 12 PM, so it didn't really matter.
Her hopes to let Bucky sleep weren't well placed. After ten minutes he walked into the kitchen, to find Grace sitting on the table with a bucket of ice cream and a painful toe.
When he blinked a few times and yawned, he put on a sleepy smile.
"Whatcha doin', doll?" he asked with his sleeping voice. Grace smirked - she was used to it that he talked more with his Brooklyn accent when he just woke up or was really sleepy. He never noticed it. Grace didn't tell it either. Secretly she liked it really much.
"Eating ice cream," she said and Bucky walked towards her, tapped on her feet so she would move them away. He sat down on the chair.
"And why you're doin' that at..." He looked on the clock. "3 AM?"
She smiled apologising.
"I couldn't sleep."
But Bucky knew that when she woke up at the middle of the night, there always was something. She would be thinking about something. Or something she would worry about.
"And why's that?" Bucky placed his hand on her knee and Grace sighed. His thick accent distracted her for a moment.
"It doesn't matter." But Bucky put on his puppy eyes, and Grace couldn't resist him anymore. "I was thinking..."
"'Bout what?" he asked when she didn't talk any further. "Probably me." Grace didn't react to that comment with words, but gave him a 'seriously?'-face instead.
"It's not important. Really." She took a big spoon of ice cream. Bucky sighed again and squeezed softly in her knee.
"Doll," he mumbled. "It's okay. You can talk to me."
"I already talked with this bucket of ice."
"Grace." His voice was stern and harsh, he only talked with that voice when she was acting like this.
"Tom doesn't want to speak to me," she said soft, almost if she was afraid that he would get mad. "I try to contact him, but he ignores me. I understand that, but he's still my friend. I just miss that. Our friendship."
"Tomas Stone? The guy that wanted to keep ya for himself and didn't care 'bout your safety when half the world was b'hind us?" he asked and Grace cringed at his words.
"Yes," she said. "Him."
Another big spoon of ice.
"If he doesn't want to speak to ya, then that's his problem." With his thumb he made circles on her skin. His accent became less dominant. "And besides, then I'll have you completely for myself." He smirked wickedly.
"Thank you for your wise words," she said sarcastically and giggled.
"But I'm serious," he said. "Keep trying, he can't ignore you forever. Did you try Kathie?"
Another big spoon.
"He talks to Kat, once and then. But never about me, and when she tries to, he cuts her off, she says. I don't know. Perhaps I have to leave it." She sighed and knitted her eyebrows together in concern of reality. "Maybe he doesn't want to speak to me anymore. Ever."
Bucky leaned forward with an intense look in his eyes. His chin rested on her knee now.
"Don't think like that," he said encouraging. "You'll never know. Perhaps he needs some time."
Grace smiled at him. "I guess you're right."
"But did the ice cream bucket say something back?" Bucky wanted to know and leaned back in his chair. Grace looked into the bucket - she ate half of it already!
"Yes," she said, playing his game. Bucky wiggled with his eyebrows.
"Like what?" Grace let herself slid off the table, and landed on his lap. Bucky didn't wear a shirt - it was a very hot night. Well, Grace didn't mind, because he had a beautifully muscled body.
"That's a secret," she snickered.
"But I can have a bite, huh?" He tightly wrapped his arm low around her waist, let his hand rest against her leg.
"I don't know," she said and took another spoon of ice in her mouth. "What do I get in return?"
Bucky raised his brows.
'Didn't know you expected something in return?" His smile became more playful.
"Actually," she said soft, "I did."
"Like what?" He didn't take long to make something up. "A sticker?" Grace rolled her eyes. "Okay. I guess not. Perhaps a... a kiss?"
"That's a good start."
Grace brought the spoon to his face, and he opened his mouth. Before it actually reached him, Grace put the spoon in her own mouth and Bucky chuckled, shook his head.
"Okay then," he sighed and kissed her jaw for a moment, then lowered to her neck. "Is that enough?"
"Hm-mm." Now he did get a spoon of ice cream.
"Nice," he said. "But I prefer caramel and sea salt." Grace rolled her eyes - of course he did. She liked it too. But not enough to take it in every time. "I love the flavours these days. Back in my time we only had chocolate and vanilla and that kind of stuff. Y'know, old fashioned flavours."
Grace always called flavours like 'vanilla' and 'strawberry' old fashioned because of the large choice of flavours these days. And she loved those more.
Bucky kept teasing her with that comment. Every time.
"I know," she said. Bucky waited for another spoon, but Grace waited for another kiss instead.
It took him a moment to realise it.
He rolled his eyes and whispered something under his breath, then brought his hand up to her face and caressed her cheek.
He leaned in and kissed her on the lips, and neither of them broke it. Somewhere between the kisses Grace placed the bucket of ice on the table, so she could wrap her arms around Bucky's shoulders.
One hand brushed over his cheek - his beard grew a lot these days and tickled the palm of her hand.
"If I would've been able to carry you to the bed," he mumbled between the kisses, "I would've done it."
"To do what?" Grace already felt her body heat up, but she knew better.
"Sleeping." He smirked in the kisses, even though it became way more passionate when she opened her lips for him. Grace sighed out, still with their lips connected.
"I should've known." Slowly Bucky broke the kiss, so he could look at her.
"It's late," he said. "Come on."