#and connie looking dodgy as usual *sigh*

[aikainkauna]

Der Geiger von Florenz (1926).

(Brochure on the restoration)

[hispeculiartreasure]

All We’ve Got is Time - Chapter Six | B.B.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

AU: If They’d Survived/Post-War/Window Washer!Bucky Barnes

Rating: All Audiences

Word count: 2,901

Chapter 6/24

Warnings: Can second-hand embarrassment be a warning???

AN: This chapter was one of the first scenes I thought up when this idea was born. It was so much fun to write.

As a heads up, I won’t be posting a new chapter next week. I am going to be insanely busy -  as in, leaving the house at 6AM and running around like crazy until 11PM kind of week. Between my grandpa slowly deteriorating and my niece being born within the next 10 days, I’ve got too much going on to give posting the care and attention I want to. Chapter 7 will be posted on June 6. Thanks for sticking with me 💕

Chapter Five

‘All We’ve Got is Time’ Masterlist

The below adorable image was found in this super interesting article!

“Well hey there you smitten kitten,” the sweet, curly-haired Dorothy purrs.

You scrunch your nose at the name, moving to take a seat at a table in the breakroom. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what it means.”

“Now tell us Suzy is full of it and you haven’t seen this boy five times since Saturday,” Connie scoffs before sipping her glass-bottled Coca Cola.

Your unamused gaze turns to Suzy who says, “Sorry!” in a very not-sorry voice. “You’ve been coy all week about it, we are equally invested in this relationship. They deserve to know.”

“Excuse me, you’ve been on how many dates in the last week with this boy?” Charity squawks, taking her lunch out of the fridge.

“It’s actually been less than a week.”

“Suzy, how is that helpful?” you say through an exasperated sigh.

“Five out of the last six nights is what you said, right? Sounds pretty serious.”

“To quote her roommate: ‘He must be something special since this is the most she’s been out of the apartment since move-in day’.” You were going to kill Suzy.

You grind out, “I’m not introducing you to any of my other friends if you’re going to use them against me.”

“If I remember correctly, you claimed you didn’t have any other-” The ringing of a telephone interrupts her. “Damn it, that’s mine.” She scoots out of the kitchen and you can hear her pick up the receiver. You zone out of the other womens’ discussion for a moment to hear Suzy say, “Who is this? Oh, hiiiii. How did you- Uh-huh.”

Tall, dark, and gorgeous Frances brings you back to the topic at hand. “Newbie, you need to give us the scuttlebutt.”

“Uh, I mean. . . I’ve been having a really nice time with him.”

“Get out of here with that dodginess. Come on, give us poor single girls something to hang onto.”

“Honestly, we’ve just been getting to know each other. We’ve had good conversations over dinner, walked around the park, perused some art galleries. It’s. . . been lovely. He’s a sweetheart.”

A chorus of “awwww!”s fills the room.

“You know we’re going to ask you a million questions, may as well give us as many details as you can now.”

Resigned to your fate you lean back in your chair, mentally searching for harmless information. “Umm. . . he’s from Brooklyn. He served with the army, was in Europe for the last few years. Has sisters, both parents still alive. Was a good student and an athlete. From how much he talks about his friends, he’s extremely loyal. But that’s really all I’ve got.”

“Sounds like a real dreamboat.”

“Did he give ya a smooch yet?” Connie asks around a mouthful of sandwich.

“Connie.” You know your flat tone won’t do a thing to discourage her.

“That’s a no.” She continues in a sing-song voice, “Which means it’s co-ming!”

“He hasn’t been affectionate at all?” Alice, the tiny shy one pipes up.

“He kissed my hand after our first date and I’ve gotten a few pecks on the cheek when he drops me back home. Usually when we walk and cross streets he holds my hand, or at least offers his arm.”

“A gentleman. That must be nice,” Millie, the baby of the bunch at 19, snorts.

“Do you not want to kiss him?” Connie, ever the one to get straight down to business.

You look down, can feel your heart beating fast. “I-I, uh. I. . . of course I want to kiss him.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“There’s not a problem. You’ve all seen him, you know he’s handsome. The moment just hasn’t arrived yet. I don’t want to force it and get nervous or weird.”

“You’re making me blush, Sixth Floor,” a smooth, deep voice brings the lunch-time chatter to a halt.

You turn so fast in your chair you think you may have given yourself whiplash.

The subject of your conversation is in the threshold of the breakroom, one shoulder propped against the door jam, hands full of a stunning bouquet of your favorite flowers. Suzy peers over his shoulder, ruby-red lips curled in a satisfied smirk.

You leap to your feet, smoothing down your skirt and patting your hair. “Buc-Hi!,” you say, your tone slightly shrill with embarrassment. “W-what are you doing here?!” Your face drops, thinking back to Flannery’s two warnings about male visitors in the office. “You’re not supposed to be here,” you whisper-shout - as if the office manager would pop out from behind the sofa and catch you.

“Relax, Newbie. Flannery’s out at that executives lunch, remember?” Suzy steps even with Bucky, sharing a mischievous glance. “He wanted to surprise you so he enlisted the sneakiest dame to smuggle him in.”

“And I’ll forever be in your debt, ma’am,” Bucky banters, a cheeky grin in place.

Suzy eyes him up and down, then turns to look at you. “I like this one.” The room of women collapses into giggles at her brazenness.

“Watch yourself, Suze,” you playfully warn as you approach Bucky.

“For you, ma’am,” he offers the bouquet.

Breathing in the blooms you whisper, “You remembered.”

“‘Course I did,” he whispers back. “I called Suzy from the drug store across the street to see if the coast was clear. I wouldn’t just barge in with Mrs. Flannery on duty, I promise.”

“Well, are you going to introduce us to this delightful fella or not?” Dorothy titters.

You turn back to the room, flowers in one hand while the other sneaks into the crook of Bucky’s elbow. “Apparently you’ve met Suzy. But here we’ve got Charity, Frances, Alice, Millie, Dorothy, and Connie.” Each girl greets him in their own way, some smiling, some waving. Connie just stares at him.

“Ladies, this is Bucky.”

Connie lets out a small gasp. “Wait. Bucky Barnes?”

“Uh. . . yeah?” You’re slightly unnerved. Do they know each other?

“The Bucky Barnes?! Of the Howling Commandos?!” She’s on her feet, eyes wide.

You can feel Bucky stiffen beneath your hand before he shuffles his feet.

“Yes ma’am,” he replies lowly, directing his gaze to a fixed point on the floor.

Connie practically shrieks while several other girls’ eyebrows are raised, obviously affected by her words.

“Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh-“

“Connie, what are you going on about?” A wave of protectiveness washes over you, hand tightening on his arm.

“You have been going on dates with Bucky freakin’ Barnes and you haven’t known?!”

“Known what?”

“The Howling Commandos! Captain America!” She gestures wildly at your indifference. “Have you been living under a rock the last few years?”

“No, I’ve been living in a factory the last few years. We didn’t exactly sit around discussing the paper,” you can’t help the bite to your words, not enjoying her tone or Bucky’s unease.

He clears his throat. “My last few years of service, I was in a special operations unit.”

“With Captain America!” Connie exclaims, practically jumping up and down. “He’s, like, his childhood best friend!”

The girls go into a frenzy, talking over each other to ask questions or give compliments. Unsurprisingly, Connie’s voice silences everyone else’s.

“So. Is he single? Because he’s so cute, I really think we’d get along - I’m very patriotic and I-“

“I’m sorry, ma’am. He’s, uh- spoken for.”

“It’s the girl from the compass, isn’t it? I thought that’d be over by now. What if-“

Bucky interrupts her prattling. “Trust me - Connie, right? - that’s a bear you don’t wanna poke. It’s solid.”

“Oh.”

You had never seen Constance Adler deflate, but you’re pretty sure that’s what was happening now. She almost looks like a kicked puppy and normally you’d feel bad for her - if she hadn’t dropped a metaphorical bombshell on you.

“Bucky,” Suzy steps in, laying a hand on your shoulder, “We appreciate all you’ve done the last few years. Newbie, why don’t you show him your desk and find a vase for those flowers, yeah?”

You nod and tug Bucky out of the break room. Several steps down the hall you hear Suzy speaking in a hushed, stern tone she usually reserved for belligerent businessmen. Minutes ago, you wanted to strangle her for prodding you. But she was respectful of boundaries and definitely felt that one had been crossed. Now all you wanted was to wrap her in a hug of gratitude.

Your brain finally catches up to the new information you’ve just been given. Suddenly, Bucky made a lot more sense to you. Special operations meant specially horrible circumstances. Knowing now that he’d seen combat as well brought his struggles into sharp relief for you. And he had to handle everything in more of a public light than the average soldier.

“I’m sorry about that, Bucky. Connie can be . . . a lot.”

He shakes his head, rolls his shoulders. “Aw, it’s nothing. I’ve met worse.” His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes and your heart stings for him. “I was going to tell you soon, I swear. That’s not how I wanted you to find out.”

“You don’t owe me a thing. We can talk about it later.” You reach your desk and empty a glass that held your pens and pencils, swapping them out for the flowers. “These really are gorgeous. You didn’t have to do this.”

He nods, shoving his hand into his pockets. “I know. But I wanted to. Hoped they’d brighten your desk.”

“Thank you, Bucky. This was. . . incredibly sweet of you,” you murmur, even though you’re the only two in the bullpen.

Finally, his smile seems genuine. “You’re welcome.” He takes a moment to survey the office, coming to perch against your desk. “I’ve gotta admit, it’s strange being on this side of the glass.”

“It’s strange having you on this side of the glass. Not that I mind,” you add quickly, terrified of saying the wrong thing. A beat passes, Bucky staring at the floor, you staring at the flowers.

With the barest hint of amusement Bucky finally speaks up. “So, you think I’m handsome, huh?”

Bringing your hands to cover your eyes you let out a groan, prompting a manly chuckle. “God, that’s embarrassing.”

“Nah, I’m flattered really. It’s not every day a fella like me hears that from the prettiest girl in the room.”

“Okay, calm down, sweet talker,” you playfully nudge an elbow into his shoulder. “Ya know. . . you could’ve at least told me your best friend was Captain America,” you tease.

He tosses his head back in mock disgust, jarring a strand of hair loose. “To be fair, I did mention him on our first date. Several times, in fact.”

“Because I was definitely supposed to make the connection between your scrawny friend who was gravely ill his entire life and America’s Hope.”

“I’m disappointed, frankly. Seems like a pretty easy jump to me, ma’am.”

“How could I ever make it up to you, sir?”

“There is something I had in mind. . .” He leans in close. “Dinner tomorrow night?”

“I’m gonna have to check my calendar, Barnes,” you sigh, nose inches away from his. Those blue eyes search your own before they flit to your lips for a split second.

The moment is ruined when Suzy barrels into the room.

“Red alert, red alert! Flannery’s coming!”

“WHAT!” You shout, jumping away from Bucky. “She’s not supposed to be back for another 20 minutes!”

“Well evidently she didn’t enjoy herself because I saw her out the window of the breakroom. If Flannery finds out he’s here, she’s gonna bust your chops.”

The sound of grinding gears from the elevator shaft drives the point home. You look between Suzy and Bucky, frozen in your spot, mouth agape.

“I’m sorry, this was a bad idea-” Bucky starts.

“No time, hide! GIRLS OUT HERE!” Suzy immediately takes control. A stampede arrives from the breakroom in response to Suzy’s urgent tone. “Flannery is on her way up. We need to get him out of this office without her seeing him. Run interference, hide him behind you, I don’t care - under no circumstances can he be caught, capiche?”

A chorus of ‘capiche’ answers her.

“You,” she points in your direction, “stay at your desk so she doesn’t suspect you.”

Ding.

The elevator doors sweep open before anyone can elaborate on the plan. Out the corner of your eye you see Bucky vault over your desk to remain unseen. Instantaneously a few typists congregate around you, the rest act as subtle “checkpoints” in a trail toward the stairs.

Suzy approaches Flannery, who stands ominously at the front of the office, suspicion wrinkling her forehead. “Flanny, you’re back!”

“Susan-”

“Aw, you know I hate my full name. How many times do I have to tell you to call me Suzy?” Your friend stands directly in front of her, blocking the view to your desk.

You lean down, catching Bucky’s eye. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “See you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, doll,” he winks up at you, then turns to crouch-crawl to the next desk.

“I assume as many times as I have to tell you never to call me ‘Flanny’,” you hear the office manager practically growl.

“Of course, yes ma’am. Lunch go good?” Alice and Dorothy converge to talk over a file to cover Bucky’s journey to the next desk.

“Lunch went well, yes.”

Dorothy waves Frances over, evidently needing her opinion on the wording of a letter. Sheltered behind their skirts they walk Bucky to Millie’s desk which happens to sit adjacent to an enormous filing cabinet. Your window washer ducks behind it, allowing the typists to shift around - doing their best to avoid moving like a herd.

“So why the rush back?” Suzy follows Flannery to the front desk, watching Bucky’s progress surreptitiously.

“I can only handle so much male arrogance in one sitting.”

“Oh, I hear that. Say, I think that mold may be back in the breakroom, I swear I saw a spot of something.” Suzy raises her voice, “Wanna come with me to check it out?”

Flannery sighs deeply, tucking her handbag into a desk drawer. “I suppose.”

This was it. Suzy continues jabbering at Flannery, walking side by side with her. She jerks her head toward the stairwell door and Frances whispers to Bucky, “Go, go, go!”

He’s on his feet but still bent at the waist, booking it to the door.

“Wait,” Flannery turns on her heel back toward the front. Everyone sucks a breath in, thinking Bucky’s been sighted. At the syllable he had dropped to his knees and slid across the floor - landing with his back flat against the front side of Flannery’s desk. Eyes wide, you watch Flannery stride to the desk, reaching beneath it to pull out a glass bottle. “The janitors gave me a chemical mixture they used on it last time.” She was mere inches from Bucky - if she had the super-sonar hearing everyone accused her of she would definitely have heard his heart beating out of his chest.

With the bottle in hand she takes a few steps back into the bullpen before taking stock of everyone’s tension. “What’s going on?” she asks. On his tiptoes Bucky creeps to the stairwell door. Just a few more steps and we’re home-free, you try to calm yourself. Flannery makes to turn back to the front; at that point everyone was certain your job was done-for. At the last moment Connie lets out a deafening screech.

All eyes are on her, including Flannery. Then she screams, “RAT!” Every typist in the room follows suit, insisting they saw it too, hopping up on their chairs or desks.

Bucky reaches the stairwell and with one more wink in your direction, he disappears.

You breathe a deep sigh of relief from your seat atop your desk. You turn to Connie and mouth “Thank you”. She nods in return and says silently, “Sorry”.

“Ladies, ladies! Calm down! It’s just an animal!” Your office manager is absolutely fed up with this day, with these women, with this job. Quiet descends on the bullpen. “What has gotten you all ridiculously hysterical today?” The stairwell door clicks shut, causing Flannery to spin in its direction. She scans the face of every person, looking for someone to break. Much to your satisfaction, everyone is stoic.

It’s in this moment that you find yourself genuinely glad to be in this office with these women. Every one stepped up to save your job, your livelihood. And everyone was excited about this new relationship once they saw how happy you’d been. If your adrenaline hadn’t been pumping wildly you might have had to hold back tears.

But then Flannery is walking up to your desk. She gestures to the flowers Bucky had brought you. “And where did these come from?”

Suzy swoops in. “Her mother called in to have them delivered, isn’t that precious of her?”

“Is today a special occasion?”

“No ma’am, just because,” you shrug, stroking a few petals.

Flannery hums in a tone that says she isn’t entirely convinced. “Alright Susan. Show me where you saw the mold.”

“Right this way, Flanny.”

The pair disappears into the breakroom and every typist slumps and groans.

“That’s all the excitement I need for the next week,” Alice pants, hand to her chest.

Charity throws a smirk in your direction. “Newbie, that boy is trouble in the best kind of way.”

“You’re not wrong, Charity.” You turn to the flower arrangement again. “You’re not wrong.”

Chapter Seven

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