Ada

It's early morning when I find myself in Howard's office, smiling into my cup of coffee.

I've hardly had a moment alone with Bucky since that night, but it's to be expected when we're preparing to return to the Front. In the time that Howard hasn't been focused on equipping our unit he's been helping finalise my contract, acting as my spokesperson.

"With the revisions to the contract it will ensure that at the conclusion of this war you are given a full pardon for your crimes against the United States, and immunity from any attempted extradition to the Soviet Union for your crimes against them as well," he tells me and I exhale in relief. "And as requested it will also ensure that any dependents under your care will receive citizenship, so when you get your sister back there won't be any problems there. The only clause Senator Brandt wouldn't budge on is your participation in his patriotic material, or propaganda as you like to call it. Although Steve hasn't been exempt from that either."

"As long as it's more tasteful than what it has been I won't have any arguments," I assure him, looking over at Steve's new shield and suit on the table. "Did he really ask to keep the suit?"

"He's sentimental," he says and informs me "They've asked for another one of your pin up costumes to be made with the same materials but it should only be for posters. Steve also asked for something blue for his buddy so that they'll be matching."

I smile to myself as I touch the blue uniform that will be for Bucky. "What's it made out of?"

"Carbon polymer, should withstand the average German bayonet," he informs me and I nod in approval. "You've had me working on weapons but you'll need to let me know what you want made up to wear since you guys don't have to wear standard issue."

"Thank you Howard, and in fact I did come with some designs in mind," I say and he leans over to look at the notebook I have with me. "Steve kept his showgirl outfit but I'm not as fond of mine."

"So what are you thinking of, a costume like Steve's but tailored for your measurements?"

"Almost. I want something of a similar make and fit but with as much flexibility and endurance as you can allow with the carbon polymer," I say, presenting the form fitting suit I've roughly sketched. "And as much as Brandt's going to whine I want the stars and stripes completely gone."

"Army green then?" he asks and I shake my head, turning to some colour swatches that have him raising his eyebrows.

"I want red," I decide, forcing back a smile at the double meaning to the colour. "I was thinking a muted shade that's a little less vibrant than the red on Steve's costume since it wouldn't draw anymore attention than his will, similar to the shade of Falsworths beret perhaps."

"So, the red's just a fashion choice?" he asks knowingly. "No political statement to be made?"

"Maybe I'm still a little spiteful," I admit. "And it is a statement, but if they have Steve and Bucky running around in blue then I can run around in red and still claim to be a patriot."

"That's fair," he says without judgement. "And I'll get to work on it, but I doubt it'll be ready before you fly out."

"That's alright, they'll be dropping us back in Italy to take out the nearest Hydra base there so troops can keeping moving without having to worry about those tanks. When I get back we can make any final adjustments since they should have us stationed here in London when we aren't on an active assignment per Senator Brandts request. He's clinging to his blasted USO stunts harder than I thought he would."

"Considering he's the one responsible for funding us I can't blame him, but I have something that might make you happy," he says and brings me over to another table adorned with weapons. "Your armoury, as promised."

"Now these are more beautiful than any of those costumes," I smile, running my fingers over the specially commissioned pistols. "I'm going to be quite happy out there with these, and that suit will need its fair share of hidden compartments as well."

"I'm glad to hear it, and no problem at all," he smiles and puts a hand on my shoulder. "I'd tell you to take care of yourself but something tells me that you'll be the one taking care of Rogers."

"Between Sergeant Barnes and I, I think we can manage Steve," I find myself saying and he raises his eyebrows in surprise at the mention of Bucky but doesn't inquire further. He wouldn't recognise Bucky as being the soldier that I kissed at the expo considering he can't recall the names or faces of half the women he's slept with, so he's none the wiser.

As much as I trust Howard, Peggy's urged both of us to keep this as quiet as we possibly can and so I'm heeding her word, and perhaps I'm reluctant to tell him the truth considering the feelings he'd harboured before we were separated after Erskine's death. Although to his merit I do believe him when he insists that he's more focused on work than women for once.

"I truly am thankful for everything you've done for me Howard," I tell him and his face softens. "Especially with this contract, if you weren't there I would have just signed whatever they wanted me to so I could get out of that damn meeting."

"I wasn't going to let you sign a piece of paper that meant they could still screw you over once this is all done," he says and squeezes my shoulder. "Hell from what they were saying I wouldn't be surprised if Donovan keeps you on after the war as an agent once the SSR's disbanded."

I stand in contemplation for a moment before leaning against the table and admitting "In truth I can't imagine what I'll do once this war's over."

"What do you want to do?" he asks and some of the steps forward are clear.

"Well, the first thing I'll be doing is getting my sister back and helping her adjust to life outside of that academy," I say and he nods along as he listen. before the sound of a familiar voice has me suddenly jumping upright as Steve and Bucky walk in. "Then... then I don't know. Erskine, I can almost hear him now telling me how wonderful it is to have no idea what to do with that type of freedom, all I know is that I have to make the most of it. It's what he'd want me to do."

Howard smiles and says "You know, it would be a shame if we stopped working together once this war's done."

I chuckle to myself at the thought of Howard and I still giving people grief in a few years time and tell him "Howard, I can promise you that if there's ever anything I can do to repay you for your support then I'll always be one phone call away. I do have quite a specialised skill set after all."

"I don't know if I'll need the assassin part but I can sure see myself needing someone trained in a little espionage," he says and proposes "You could always become a private investigator if you didn't want to work for the government."

I hum in consideration, not opposed to the idea. "You might be onto something there."

"Of course I am, I'm a genius," he says and he waves Steve over when he and Bucky walk through the door. "Rogers, there you are. Come take a look at this."

Bucky waltzes over to me, innocently standing by my side and greeting "Agent Morgan."

"Sergeant Barnes," I say, hiding my smile behind my cup of coffee. "Are you sleeping well since your transfer?"

"Could be sleeping better," he teases with a glint of mischief in his eye and I press my lips together, nudging him playfully as I walk past to meet Steve and Howard who are examining the shield.

"I like the paint," Steve says, holding it out for us to see and I raise my eyebrows in surprise.

"So, you really doubling down on the stars and stripes?"

"I've gotten sentimental," he says and Bucky stands beside me, taking in the various stations with interest until his eyes settle on mine.

"Who's the armoury for?"

"Me," I smile happily and bring him over. "God knows I can't wait to put it to use."

He nods slowly as he takes in the sheer amount of lethal weapons I plan on carrying, many concealable. "Remind me to never make you mad."

"Most women like jewellery, but it seems the way to this one's heart is through weapons," Howard remarks as he walks past and Bucky's eyes narrow before I tug on his wrist to bring his attention back to the weapons.

"Custom made," I say, showcasing the pistols. "Two based off the standard .45 caliber colt with adjustments, as well a smaller concealable model, .32 caliber and silenced, semi-automatic."

He appreciates the weapons before asking "No rifle?"

"Oh no, I've got an automatic M3," I say proudly and he blinks stunned as I raise it up. "I love my pistols but depending on how much trouble we find ourselves in I'll be wanting something on hand that packs a bit more firepower. Obviously I won't be carrying all of them, but there'll be a time and a place for each of these I'm sure."

He studies my expression before remarking "Am I gonna have to be the one to give you the lecture about not getting carried away at the thought of killing Nazis?"

"I can be realistic and excited at the same time," I assure him and he watches on in amusement as I run my fingers over my arsenal. "And I'm quite accustomed to the reality of being in the thick of things so there won't be much of an adjustment period." His face is suddenly serious and I inquire "Buck?"

He blinks when my hand brushes his and he assures me "I'm alright, just didn't think we'd be going back out there so soon."

"I know," I say gently and I want to comfort him properly, to hold him close, but I can't when we're surrounded by people. Although I can lower my voice enough so that only he can hear. "But if it is any consolation, you will look quite handsome in the uniform they've made for you."

That manages to make him smile and his eyes search mine before looking down at my lips, making it quite clear what he wants to do, and I return the silent gesture.

We don't notice Steve walking over until he clears his throat to tell me "We'll be shipping out tomorrow morning, but Brandt wants to take some photographs of the team first. He said that our work will be classified but that our faces will still be up on posters."

"I've been told," I say bitterly. "But if it means being out in the field instead of performing I'm not going to complain."

"I'm still kind of mad I missed that USO show," Bucky teases and I shove him playfully.

"Don't be," Steve says with a sigh. "I had to stop her from fighting the stage manager."

"Oh so now you know what it feels like to be the one stopping a fight for a change?" Bucky remarks and I'm smiling as he slaps Steve on the shoulder.

"I didn't even get into that many fights-"

"Says the man that pointed out every place he was beat up in Brooklyn," Peggy remarks as she walks past and Steve follows her with his eyes like a lost puppy, although he should be glad she's voluntarily speaking to him again.

"It- it was only a few of them," Steve murmurs, attention still focused solely on Peggy.

Meanwhile I look at Bucky, and as desperate as I am to spend a night with him, I'd settle for stealing more than just a few moments alone together.

He must see the want in my eyes because he looks down to my lips before murmuring "I know doll."

Even if it's in the midst of a crowded room, I steal another moment with him by bringing him to the table with the uniforms that have been designed for him and Steve.

"My custom uniform is still being drawn up, but Steve commissioned yours the moment he put the team together it seems," I say and present it to him. "It's a nice shade of blue that'll go well with your eyes, although more importantly it's made of carbon polymer which will keep you far safer than the standard issue you're used to. It should stop most blades and will reduce the impact from a bullet depending on the caliber."

He nods slowly, silently impressed, but his concerns on me. "Will yours be ready by the time we ship out?"

"Doubt it, apparently they were asked to make one of my showgirl outfits out of the material but it's hardly like I'll be going out into the field in that," I dismiss. "But I haven't needed carbon polymer suit up until now so I should be fine." His eyes flicker down to the scar that he knows is on my thigh and I press my lips together before realising "Or not."

"Sooner you get it the better then?"

"Yeah," I say and he puts a hand on my shoulder, lingering a moment too long before letting it fall away. "Although it wasn't the bullets that took me out that day."

His brows draw together, but before I can explain Steve and Howard come back over with Phillips in tow.

"Morgan, Rogers," he greets. "Your unit has a photoshoot per Brandt's request in the morning before you fly out, and yes Morgan you will be in the pin up costume."

"As I have been unfortunately made aware," I sigh and purse my mouth while he moves along, when he's out of earshot turning my head to Bucky. "Looks like you'll be able to see me in it after all."

"And you'll look beautiful," he says without missing a beat, even if he's slightly missing the point he's still endearing, and so I lean in and lower my voice to a whisper.

"Yes, but I'd rather be showing that type of skin somewhere we could both enjoy it in private."

"You're gonna drive me crazy," he murmurs and I'm looking up at him through my lashes.

"I'm counting on it."

In truth the exposure doesn't bother me, not when I was raised in ballet costumes and endured far worse humiliation rituals than anything this government could inflict upon me. They could strip me to the bone and I wouldn't flinch or hang my head in shame, the Red Room made sure of that.

We had any conception of humiliation or ownership of our bodies beaten out of us from a young age, but this is America and I need to have at least some pretence of shame when it comes to being almost naked. I've used the term humiliation when describing my frustrations over the situation to Howard and Peggy, but it's not the humiliation that digs at me, it's the infuriating lack of respect.

"Morgan!" Phillips calls and I jump slightly, but he dismisses whatever he must have caught as the same act I pulled with Howard in my early days with the SSR. "Your dogtags. They aren't typically issued to agents, but well, I think we both know why you'll be needing them."

He drops them into my hand and I read the name written, Adeline V Morgan, along with the serial number I was issued upon enrolling as a nurse, with O marked for bloodtype and a C at the bottom for faith.

"You fly out to Italy after your photoshoot," he continues. "Make sure Rogers makes it back or Brandt's going to cut our funding in half."

"Yes, Sir," Bucky and I both say and Phillips gives an amused raise of his eyebrows before walking off, but Bucky isn't happy with that last line.

"Make sure Rogers makes it back or Brandt's going to cut our funding in half?"

"We aren't human to them, or even cannon fodder. We're assets," I explain and his jaw clenches. "Assets worth a lot of money as we've so often been reminded."

He shakes his head, murmuring under his breath "The hell's Steve gotten himself into?"

"I asked myself that same question when I learned he'd volunteered, but it's too late to go back and change his mind now," I say and he gives a reluctant nod of agreement. "Now we just have to trust each other with our lives so we don't get killed taking down a red faced Nazi and his mad scientist. Simple really."

He appreciates my attempt at humour. "Couldn't be easier."

"Agent Morgan," Peggy calls out from the doorway. "Donovan's on the phone. He wants to coordinate before you leave for your mission tomorrow."

"I'll see you in the morning," I say to Bucky before reluctantly leaving him to get to work, content in the knowledge that the two will be mutually exclusive soon enough.

Although when morning comes I'm far from content.

"Move closer to Captain Rogers," the photographer instructs while Senator Brandt stands there as smug as I've ever seen him. "Closer."

I haven't yet seen any of the Howling Commandos, but Steve's assured me that they aren't being spared from this either, although they'll be the subjects of a modest group photograph rather than this.

"Is this truly necessary?" I question, knowing the angle that their going for because it's what they've always framed us as. Captain America and Miss America, the damsel that patches up his wounds. "Is standing this close not immodest?"

"Have you seen yourself?" Brandt remarks and I bite the inside of my cheek as Steve reluctantly yanks me closer, just as desperate as I am to get this done with. "Give him a kiss, it'll look good for the posters."

"Well you know I'm not doing that," I say and Steve makes a face of disgust at the same time I see Bucky standing by the door and become hyperaware of the deep v-neck halter and criminally short skirt I wear, because I would indeed be arrested for wearing this on the street. The only thing I'm missing from my showgirl days is the stupid hat. "Senator I believe your next group of victims are here."

We hear the rest of the Howling Commandos before we see them, and when Brandt's distracted I make a beeline for Bucky while Steve greets the rest of the men.

"You look... wow," Bucky says, slightly red faced while I'm looking him up and down in his uniform. God he is handsome. Ridiculously so.

"You don't look bad either, Sergeant," I say, innocently reaching out to smooth the collar of his uniform. "I was right it seems, you are handsome in blue."

"So are you," he says, stepping back enough to look down at the outfit properly. "And in red, and white-"

"I get the picture," I laugh and he hums, reaching for me before letting his hand fall back to his side and shaking his head in frustration. "I know Buck."

"God I need to touch you," he murmurs and his face isn't the only one that's red when Steve calls us over and Dugan looks me up and down in the same way my father would have.

"You aren't going into the field like that are you?"

"God no," I assure him. "Steve can keep his stars and stripes but I'm trading mine in. This is just for the camera."

"Miss," the photographer begins and I don't acknowledge him until he corrects himself. "Agent."

"Yes?"

"Can I have you standing on the left of Captain Rogers and the sergeant on the right," he says and I do as I'm asked, not plastering on a smile until he's behind the camera, taking several of the three of us before bringing the rest of the men into the frame. "Now, chins up and looking tough, this is going to be in a museum someday."

The men laugh at that one and Morita remarks "Yeah right."

"Isn't this whole thing classified?" Jones inquires and Brandt speaks up.

"Yes, but Captain America is still the face of the military and she is still the face of the women's war effort...somehow."

"I believe that somehow was your doing," I remind him and he purses his mouth as we're instructed to pose for the photograph and the flash is blinding.

"And for the record," Steve speaks up. "I'm officially off the press circuit after this."

"You might be, but she's not," Brandt points out. "Per the conditions of the contract Mr Stark meticulously revised and negotiated on her behalf, but considering he may as well be her handler there's no surprise there."

I don't miss the accusation behind those words, nor the fact that he's part of the significant number of people that believe I'm sleeping with Howard for that type of support. Despite my orders to not engage in relationships, they can hardly punish their weapons manufacturer for engaging in one with me can they? Even if there's no truth to it.

"Well senator, if that will be all I must get changed into a proper uniform before we ship out," I say, and go to walk past him only for him to stop me with a hand on my arm.

"That is your uniform," he says and I scoff in disbelief as most of the men dismiss themselves to the back of the room while Bucky and Steve linger nearby.

"You aren't serious."

"I am serious," he says and I see the challenge in his eye, the desperate need to control me after my rebellion and abandonment of USO. "So march back over there and prepare for your flight."

I smile to myself, holding back a laugh at the fact he truly thinks he can intimidate me. "Senator, we both know I'm not doing that."

"Yes you are, your contract-"

"My contract states that I have to participate in your propaganda, not this," I say, and see the mild panic in his eye. "Do I strike you as an idiot?"

"You strike me as a hostile woman," he says and I give an approving nod that unsettles him.

"If you want me to go and bend right over for Hydra you might as well arm me with lotion rather than a gun, and that is not my area of expertise I'm afraid," I patronise before deciding to give him what he wants, although not in a way that he's in control of. "Because this-" I bend right over to take the lighter and cigarette out of the compartment I had sewn into the inside of the boot. "Will not do."

"Agent," he breathes in horror, aware of the men behind me. "That is not-"

"Not what?" I ask obliviously and see his visible frustration at the fact I'm in no way humiliated before standing upright and looking over my shoulder with a wave. "I'll be right with you in a second boys."

"Now that is hardly appropriate," he chides and watches as I light up the cigarette and place it between my red lips before stepping closer and lowering my voice.

"Unless you want me to get passed around like a cigarette I recommend that you let me change into something a tad more modest," I suggest. "Because as much as I might enjoy myself I imagine it would cause quite the scandal in Washington."

His eyes widen and he splutters "I can have you discharged for that comment alone."

"Tell me does your wife know about the prostitutes you hired in every state we went too?" I ask and he turns pale. "Even if she bit her tongue and continued to live on in misery you do run your campaign on a platform that relies on family values don't you? It would be utterly detrimental to your reputation, especially since you won votes by publicly opposing prostitution-"

"That's quite enough," he panics and spits out "Do what you will."

He leaves the room without another word and I wear an amused smile as Bucky comes over to me with raised eyebrows, perplexed as he looks between my cigarette and my boot and I explain. "I have a little pocket sewn into the inside."

"For cigarettes?"

"There's not exactly anywhere else I can put them," I say and he can't argue with that, glancing around the room before clearing his throat.

"You don't care that every guy in here's staring at you?"

"Do you?" I say with a raised eyebrow to gauge his reaction and he suddenly becomes flustered. Some men are terribly paranoid with jealousy while others couldn't care less, and it seems that he falls in the middle. Although I'd be offended if he simply didn't care.

"Well..."

I move in closer to him, Steve blocking the sight of us from the others as I run my hand over his chest. "Half the country's seen me in this, but you're the only one that's going to be taking it off of me."

"Jesus christ," Steve murmurs and quickly finds any excuse to be anywhere else while Bucky looks significantly happier now.

"In fact," I say and look over to where my bag of clothes rests by the side of the room, containing a proper field uniform considering I thought Brandt might pull something like this. "I believe there's a changing room just around the corner, and we still have an hour or so until we're scheduled to depart."

His eyes widen and he glances over towards where Steve's rejoined the rest of the men who are waiting for transport to the airfield. "Now?"

"Wait a minute then follow me in," I instruct and he certainly doesn't need to be told twice before I casually make my way out of the studio, picking up my bag on the way out, and down the hall to the single stall changing room with a full door and a lock.

It's just under a minute later when the door opens and I'm pulling him inside before slamming it shut, his lips messily colliding with mine just as I manage to lock the door. My back hits the wall in my eagerness to pull him closer and his hands are heavy on my waist, tracing down my hips to grab the backs of my thighs and hoist me up with a strength that has me gasping into his open mouth.

"I've missed you," he murmurs against my lips as I steady myself in his hold.

"I've missed you too," I say, tracing his cheek and swollen lips with the tips of my fingers. "God knows I've missed being able to touch you, let alone like this."

He hums in agreement and kisses me, his tongue caressing mine with the same reverence that his hands do with my body, moving along my spine to gently cup the back of my head as I sigh into his mouth.

"Is this the part where you tell me that I should be spending my last moments before getting flown back out to the front resting?" he teases and I laugh before shaking my head.

"No, and if I knew you were this good with your mouth then I wouldn't have denied you then either." A sinful sound escapes the back of his throat when I kiss him again, nipping at his bottom lip. "I think I'll be going crazy until I can spend a proper night with you."

"You aren't the only one sweetheart," he rasps and his mouth finds my neck, his breath warm as he murmurs in my ear. "God you're so beautiful, so soft." I'm gasping out as his teeth nip at my neck and his fingers dig into my thighs. "I need to feel you."

"Then take this damn dress off me," I say and our lips meet again as his hands reach for the zipper at the back of the skirt and my own hands unhook the halterneck. He breaks away, watching with parted lips as he pulls the top down to expose the strapless longline brassiere beneath and he lifts me up higher, using the wall for support as his lips meet my collar. .

Impatiently I take one of his hands and bring it up to the my breasts, and he moans softly into my chest as he cups me through my brassiere, thumb tracing where he can feel my hardened nipple through the padding of the cup. His lips move down to my breasts, pushed up by the padding, and his open mouth moves across the contour of my chest while I only find myself growing increasingly needier for his touch.

"Buck," I rasp and he seems to understand as he pulls back to set me down on my feet, his lips meeting mine in another mess kiss before he moves down my body. His eyes are locked on mine as he tugs the costume down my body, until I'm dressed only in my undergarments and boots. The airs cold against my skin and his hands are slow, intentional, as they slowly trace from my waist down to the backs of my calves and back up again, electrifying every nerve he passes over as he stands to face me, and I realise that he's waiting for my permission to go further.

"You can touch me, James," I murmur, leaning forward to brush my lips against his. "I'd tell you not to smudge my lipstick but I gather that it's a little late for that."

He kisses me before pulling back, smiling as I chase his lips, teasing me. "Just a little."

"I think that they'll have a few questions when I walk out with my lipstick gone," I say and he tugs me so my body's flush against his, his hands moving over the curve of my hips.

"I think they'd already have a few ideas," he says, only seeming to like the idea of them knowing what we're doing in here as he squeezes my waist. "Except we haven't done anything yet, not properly at least." His lips move to my neck and I'm sighing. "Do you want to?"

I nod, a single plea falling from my lips. "Please."

He doesn't deprive me. His hand's heavier now as he brings it to my breast, gently teasing my nipple through the fabric before he slowly moves his hand lower. His fingertips trail over my stomach until they come to brush against the waistband of my panties which rest just above my belly button.

"We can always wait," he offers, just as a gentleman should, but the look in his eye is far from that.

For so long my body wasn't mine, and I want to use it how I want without reservation. I want him. My innocence has been shattered in every way except for this and I want to rid of it on my own terms. I want it to be mine to give, and I want it to be his.

"We could die tomorrow," I counter, leaning in enough to brush my lips against his. "We don't have the luxury of waiting."

He hums in agreement, taking my face in one hand to kiss me as his hand trails down the satin of my panties and I gasp as he cups me through the fabric. He watches my face as two fingers begin to rub something I've never truly been aware of until now. I reach for him, grasping onto his bicep as that sensation builds and my head falls back against the wall.

"James," I sigh and he leans in to kiss me just as he adds pressure and I'm whimpering into his mouth, urging him on. "Please-"

But just before his hand can delve beneath the fabric there's a knock at the door and any panic is replaced by pure exasperation at the sound of Steve's voice.

"Um, just letting you guys know that we have twenty minutes before the vehicle will be here to take us to the airfield," he says awkwardly and Bucky's forehead falls against mine.

"I swear I could kill that kid sometimes," he murmurs. "We'll be out in a minute Steve."

"A minute?" I question in disappointment but he only seems to rise to the challenge.

"A minute's all I need," he says and I watch with an open mouth as he gets down on his knees, anticipation pounding in my chest. "Can I try something doll?" My desperate nod comes before I've even registered it and his voice is low "Lift your hips."

My body immediately obeys and he brings one of my legs over his shoulder before his head dips down between my thighs, his lips experimentally pressing against the drenched fabric. My body melts beneath his touch and he looks up at me as he pulls the fabric aside, waiting for my nod before his head dives back between my thighs.

"Oh-" I choke out, my head falling back at the feeling of his open mouth, his tongue. "James-"

He hums at the sound of his name and I have to bring my hand up to my mouth, just about biting down on it when his lips seal over my clitoris and I could come apart from that alone. His hands move up to hold me by the hips, repositioning his hold on me for easier access and to hold me in place when my hips buck against his mouth.

"Does this feel good?" he asks and I could almost laugh from how obvious a question it is, I might have if not for the sheer intensity of his lust-filled gaze as he looks up at me.

"Yes," I breathe, reaching down to run my fingers through his hair before covering one of his hands with my own, lightly grasping his fingers. "Please don't stop."

And he doesn't, not until I'm writhing against him and biting down on my hand so no one hears, not until I'm completely spent and his hands alone are what keep me standing when my knees buckle beneath me. I'm breathless when I look down at him in the aftermath to find him gazing up at me with something I can only call adoration, perhaps even reverence.

I smile down at him and he presses soft kisses to the inside of my thigh until I take his hand and pull him back up, kissing him breathlessly and tasting myself on his lips. I thought I knew every extreme sensation my body could feel, broken and remade in pure agony, but I never knew just how good some peaks can feel.

"Your cheeks are red," he murmurs, cupping my face and kissing me sweetly, just like the very first time.

"I can't imagine why," I breathe with a slight laugh and he smiles, holding me with gentle hands that soothe my slightly trembling body while he peppers slow kisses across my face and I murmur "Mmm Buck."

He brings me into his arms and I rest my head in the crook of his neck, aching to be closer with him, to be held. "I've got you, angel." My heart clenches and I hold him closer, tilting my head up just enough to be able to kiss him softly, the kiss deepening with how desperate I am to have him wholly and he breathes my name "Ada."

I'm smiling in an awe-filled haze as he rests his forehead on mine, and suddenly I'm unable to comprehend how I lived without this bliss in my heart. All I know is that I never want to live without it again.

My voice is utterly filled with longing when I breathe his name. "James."

"Have I ever told you how much I love the way you say my name?" he murmurs and I hum happily, although my breath hitches as he kisses just below my ear. "How sweet you taste."

He's close enough that I can feel how hard he is against me, and when my hand rests on his belt he gives a gentle shake of his head and I look up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"Mine can wait until I can have you to myself for a night and not just five minutes," he says, and my body's aching with anticipation. "And I'm pretty sure we don't have long left until Steve's gonna come knocking again."

"Don't remind me," I sigh and he fixes my hair for me, smiling to himself with a glint of humour in his eye. "What?"

"It's bouncy," he says and I fall against his chest, laughing. "You know it won't stay like that in the field."

"I know," I say, touching his own hair which somehow managed to remain mostly in place. "But I'm guessing you're the one who has pomade stashed in his bag."

"Alright, come on now," he laughs, kissing my forehead. "We better get back to the guys before they suspect us of something."

"Oh, it's too late for that."

"You aren't wrong, but don't worry doll," he tries to assure me. "I trust these guys with my life. It's safe with them."

"Are you sure?" I ask, wanting this between him and I to stay between us. To stay safe.

He nods. "Trust me, they won't be running to the Colonel to snitch on us. We're good sweetheart."

"Okay," I say, trusting him. Trusting his judgement.

"Which is a good thing because I'm about to have to explain where all your lipstick went."

I laugh and cup his face between my hands. "Well since it's all gone-"

He doesn't give me the chance to finish before he presses a soft kiss to my lips, and his voice gentle as he asks "You still feeling good angel?"

I look up at him, my heart answering for me. "Better than good."

He seems pleased with himself as he takes my hand in his, kissing it softly before saying "I'll let you get dressed, and I'll well- I'll take care of myself."

I'm blushing as he adjusts his trousers and he brings me in before one last kiss before slipping out the door and leaving me to clean myself up and change into the uniform I brought.

When I re-emerge Bucky's with Steve, immediately taking in the soldier's uniform that I now wear and smiling proudly to himself. The men nearby exchange some not so subtle looks, but at this point I can hardly care when I have Bucky in front of me, slightly more flushed than when he left me five minutes ago.

"How do I look?"

"Like how you were always meant to," Bucky says without missing a beat and considering it's only our team in the room I feel safe enough to reach for his hand and squeeze it tight.

"Oi lovebirds, our ride's here," Morita calls out from by the window and I share a smile with Bucky before letting go of his hand and stepping out onto the street to find one of Howard's interns rushing over with a parcel.

"Ma'am, agent," he says in a panic, having clearing been running. "Mr Stark asked me to tell you that your weapons are with the rest of the teams cargo and that this is a prototype for your uniform."

I take the parcel in surprise, opening it to find the muted shade of red we'd spoken about and I smile to myself. "Tell Mr Stark that he's outdone himself and thank him for getting this ready so quickly. Also." I pull my pinup costumes out of my rucksack and pass it to him. "Please deliver this back to Mr Stark as I'm no longer in any need of it."

"Yes agent," he stammers and goes on his way, rushing back to headquarters.

I turn back to Bucky and Steve and show them what the kid brought. "Looks like the three of us will be suited up after all."

"Red?" Steve says in surprise, the colour still less vibrant than the blue suit he wears. "Isn't that a little on the nose?"

"Precisely," I smile and Bucky chuckles proudly before offering me his hand to step off the curb into the bus they've brought for us. "If you get blue it's only fair that I get red."

"It's your colour," Bucky says and I look back at him with a smile before we set off to the airfield.

~

Three days later we've set up camp in the north of Italy, several miles from the Hydra base closest to the front. One of the the six bases that were marked on the map. The closer we get to our window to attack the more eerie the world around us seems, particularly for Bucky and I. We haven't discussed it, but we can both feel it.

We're gathered around the rough sketch of the base we've managed to put together from scouting missions, pinpointing the ideal entry markers. It's instinctual for Steve to try to take over, and it's not the first time we've butted heads over it, but slowly he's learning to sit back and listen when taking my input into consideration.

He may be the captain, our figurehead, but it's important for him to remember that he is the person with the least military experience in the team. Something I haven't been willing to let him forget, not until he's learned the same lessons that Bucky did when he was first deployed. I have no doubts that Steve will prove himself to be a true soldier and a worthy captain, but he can't get carried away before then. I don't want to see him get killed because he's overestimated himself.

After all, it's been made quite clear to me that my job is to keep Captain America alive, and that's one mission I'd be quite upset to fail.

"I've been instructed by the head of the OSS along with Phillips that they want high ranking Nazi officers taken prisoner and interrogated," I begin, knowing that my mission is slightly different to theirs. "But, that does not extend to Schmidt. He is to be shot and killed on sight, no ifs or buts."

"That the governments order or yours?" Steve interjects and I struggle to keep my face even as I look at him. "We still have laws we need to follow, we can't kill unarmed-"

"As far as I'm concerned he is a weapon regardless of whether or not he has a gun in his hand," I argue, three days of back and worth with Steve is enough that the exasperation is setting in and so I speak to the team as a whole. "Schmidt is a supersoldier, even if he doesn't have a weapon in his hand he is strong enough that he could snap your neck or crack your head open before you know what's going on. If you encounter him do not engage from close range; step back, take the highest caliber weapon you've got and put a bullet in his head. No screwing about."

"You could have used that advice a few weeks ago," Steve remarks and I narrow my eyes at him.

"Yes, Steve. I could have, which is why I'm speaking from personal experience," I say, and Bucky continues on doing what he has, which is to stay out of the bickering. "If you don't recall I cut his throat deep enough that it should have killed him, but no. Thanks to the serum his fucked up face and the rest of him might as well be leather. Which is why we need to aim to kill, not capture."

"And the other Nazis?"

"Kill the soldiers and leave the officers to me to subdue," I say and see the men exchanging doubtful looks. "Or not, you can just let them bite down on their suicide pills before you can even get near them."

Bucky clears his throat from beside me and says "We'll reassess the situation in the morning, decide if the risk of taking whoever's overseeing operations is worth it or not. Our main priority has to be getting in and out alive while destroying the factory, capture is second on the list of priorities."

"Agreed," Steve says and I give a reluctant nod, realising that I'm yet to fully prove myself, even to Bucky and Steve. They know what I can do with a weapon, but they don't realise just how capable I truly am.

But they will.

~

Several hours later we're sitting around the fire, and while I burn through a pack of cigarettes the men have found other ways to distract themselves.

Wrestling with a supersoldier.

One by one they take on Steve, all with failure. Although I did pay quite the bit of attention to Bucky's match with Steve, enjoying it far more than I should have. He sits by my side now, watching in amusement as Steve bests Dugan.

"Not fair, I demand a rematch," he heaves and I simply roll my eyes, perhaps having underestimated how quickly I'd grow tired of being surrounded by men. I don't dislike any of them, in fact I am growing fond of them, although in the same way that I imagine I'd be fond of a brother; with equal care and frustration.

And it's past time that I asserted myself.

"My turn," I say and they all laugh except for Steve and Bucky. Growing up in the Red Room taught me that beneath the fancy ties and dresses people are animalistic at their core, and that the same laws of nature apply to us. Soldiers are certainly no different.

"We aren't going to fight a lady," Falsworth says and now I'm the one laughing as I get to my feet.

"I didn't realise I'd invited you to fight?"

"You are a brilliant woman, no one denies that," Dernier says carefully, the ever charming Frenchman. "But you are a woman and it would be improper of us to-"

"Treat me any differently?" I finish and ignore them, they wouldn't be a fair fight anyways. Instead I look at Steve. "Let's go, two supersoldiers should make a fair fight."

Steve looks at Bucky in panic, but he doesn't intervene. In fact he seems genuinely curious as to how this will go, and Steve gives an anxious laugh. "We've been over this, I'm not going to fight-"

He goes to make an excuse and I take the opportunity to grab him, kicking off the ground and twisting him into a headlock between my legs before throwing him down onto his back with ease before he even knows what's happened. He hits the ground hard and lays there shocked and winded while the men gape and I stand over him, not having felt this satisfied since I shot Phillips.

"And that was without even hurting you," I say pointedly before extending my hand to help him to his feet, but he's reluctant to take it.

"You're not gonna knock me down again are you?"

"Not unless you tempt me," I say and finally he takes my hand, shocked again by my strength when I yank him to his feet. "Still think I can't manage to subdue a Nazi soldier or two?"

"No- no, ma'am," most of the men utter some version of as Steve catches his breath, nodding his agreement with them. Bucky's quiet, watching me with both awe and something a little harder to read, contemplation perhaps.

"That's what I thought," I say, fixing my hair before looking north towards the factory. "I'm going to go and scope out the area one more time before the morning, make sure there's nothing we've missed."

A/N: Hey guys, this arc will be coming to an end soon before there'll be a small time jump. I have three different arcs planned for the 1940's, the next one will take place throughout 1944 and it will be very heavy on the angst and quite graphic at times as Ada's abandonment of the Red Room will catch up to her and have quite dark consequences. It is arguably more angsty than the third arc which will centre around Bucky's 'death' and the events that will take place between then and when she eventually locates (part of) his remains. Then the time in the 1940's will come to an end and there will be a time jump, but not yet to 2013.

They'll be a Bucky POV to start next chapter, since the further the story progresses the more dual pov it'll become due to them being separated. We finally have some smut and a mildly jealous Bucky this chapter and next chapter, (lets just say Howard will remain a point of contention between them for multiple decades due to several different reasons).

I also just want you guys to know that in my need to make things historically accurate I was up until four am reading sex statistics from the 1940's just to see how common women receiving oral was back then (surprisingly common in marriages but not so much in pre-marital sex). Still, they were historically quite naughty in the forties.