"I can do this all day," Bucky heard coming from the alley by the theater. There was a thud, the sound of someone smashing into a trashcan (a sound Bucky was all too familiar with). A man stood over a slight figure, and Bucky grabbed the man's arm.
"Hey!" Bucky said sternly, pulling the man away. "Pick on somebody your own size."
The man threw a punch at Bucky, but he managed to dodge it and sock the man in the jaw. The man doubled over, and Bucky gave him a swift kick in the rear for good measure to send him off. The man ran off, and Bucky turned to walk over to the little guy... to Steve... as his childhood friend climbed up from the garbage.
"Sometimes, I think you like getting punched," Bucky told Steve, exasperated.
"I had him on the ropes," Steve muttered, brushing himself off. Bucky leans down to pick up something Steve dropped.
"How many times is this?" Bucky asked as he unfolds the paper. Sure enough, it's another failed attempt by Steve to enlist. 4F, the paper proclaims. Registrant not acceptable for military service. Then he notices something else. "Oh, you're from Paramus now? You know it's illegal to lie on your enlistment form? And seriously, Jersey?"
Steve looks like he's about to respond... then he notices Bucky's uniform. "You get your orders?"
Bucky tilts his head. "The 107th. Sergeant James Barnes, shipping out for England first thing tomorrow."
Steve huffs, looks down. "I should be going."
Bucky looks at Steve, not saying anything for a moment. Then he grins, putting his arm around Steve. "Come on, man. It's my last night. Better get you cleaned up."
"Why, where are we going?" Steve asked.
Bucky jerks the newspaper he'd been holding towards Steve, handing it to him. "The future."
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Vial Four; Memory Game
Date: 2015-08-30 09:02 am (UTC)"Hey!" Bucky said sternly, pulling the man away. "Pick on somebody your own size."
The man threw a punch at Bucky, but he managed to dodge it and sock the man in the jaw. The man doubled over, and Bucky gave him a swift kick in the rear for good measure to send him off. The man ran off, and Bucky turned to walk over to the little guy... to Steve... as his childhood friend climbed up from the garbage.
"Sometimes, I think you like getting punched," Bucky told Steve, exasperated.
"I had him on the ropes," Steve muttered, brushing himself off. Bucky leans down to pick up something Steve dropped.
"How many times is this?" Bucky asked as he unfolds the paper. Sure enough, it's another failed attempt by Steve to enlist. 4F, the paper proclaims. Registrant not acceptable for military service. Then he notices something else. "Oh, you're from Paramus now? You know it's illegal to lie on your enlistment form? And seriously, Jersey?"
Steve looks like he's about to respond... then he notices Bucky's uniform. "You get your orders?"
Bucky tilts his head. "The 107th. Sergeant James Barnes, shipping out for England first thing tomorrow."
Steve huffs, looks down. "I should be going."
Bucky looks at Steve, not saying anything for a moment. Then he grins, putting his arm around Steve. "Come on, man. It's my last night. Better get you cleaned up."
"Why, where are we going?" Steve asked.
Bucky jerks the newspaper he'd been holding towards Steve, handing it to him. "The future."
World Exposition of Tomorrow, 1943.