Steve lost colour so fast Peggy honestly thought he might faint. "Bucky. What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean," Barnes said roughly. Peggy smothered the irrational urge to strangle him; the cat had been well and truly out of the bag as soon as the leutnent opened his mouth, and leaving Steve to work it out on his own would have been in no way better.
Without appearing to realize what he was doing, Steve shifted where he stood, interposing himself between Peggy and Barnes. On the one hand, Peggy appreciated the impulse and understood why he was doing it; on the other, it did nothing but hurt Barnes and she could damn well take care of herself. "He had to," she said, hearing her own voice brittle as glass. "Our friend here gave me a choice." She kicked the leutnent's corpse, which she had to admit was petty. "Him and all his men..."
"Or you," Steve said to Barnes, who wore a neutral expression that Peggy suspected of being entirely false.
"Yeah," Barnes said. "Steve, you know I wouldn't—you know I wouldn't."
Steve clenched his jaw, but he looked Barnes in the eye when he said, "Yes, I know." He drew a breath, let it out, and turned back to Peggy. "You're going to have to...we'll have to tell the medics."
"Phillips can't know about this," Peggy said. "He's ridiculous about me going into the field already."
"I know enough to know you need to see a medic," Steve said gently. Peggy wanted to slap him.
"I will," she said shortly. "But I'll arrange it so Phillips won't find out."
Steve was opening his mouth (to object, but it wasn't his place to object, by God) when Jones called from the hallway, "Frenchie's done, Cap, you ready to move?"
For a moment no one answered. "On our way," Barnes called back finally. But they stood staring at each other for another long second before they turned to the door.
*
It wouldn't have taken the Howling Commandos to realize something had gone wrong between Steve and Barnes, and all of them were on edge by the time they got back to their vehicles. Peggy was slightly impressed that Phillips had committed Jeeps to this rescue—but then again, it was Steve, and they all knew precisely what he would do to save someone he loved. It was better to back him up than risk another unauthorized raid.
But there were multiple Jeeps, and Steve attempted, in the most unsubtle manner possible, to make sure that Peggy and Barnes didn't share one. In and of itself that might have gone unnoticed; as the behaviour of Steve Rogers, reunited with his best friend after rescuing him again...he might as well have dressed up like a Morris dancer and waved his wands about to indicate that something strange was going on. Even Dugan, not normally the most perceptive of men, looked tight around the eyes by the time Peggy settled the matter by climbing pointedly into the Jeep that Barnes was already sitting in. Steve, frowning, got in beside her, which left poor Morita to drive.
As Morita turned the key, he said, "You gotta quit doing this, Sarge. It's not good for Cap's heart." Behind them Dernier's fuses were burning down, the first charges booming into the night.
Barnes slouched back in his seat. "He'll get used to it," he said airily, and that was the end of that conversation.
*
It was a long drive back to base and Peggy drifted off despite herself, leaning into Steve's side. She woke when the Jeep slowed and blinked in muzzy confusion at the surrounding forest, no sign of Allied forces yet in sight. "Why are we stopping?" she muttered, resisting the urge to rub her eyes.
"Two minutes," Steve said to Morita instead of answering. Morita looked unhappy, but nodded. Steve jerked his head at Barnes, and Peggy frowned. Normally he'd have tapped his shoulder. The three of them climbed out of the Jeep and walked into the shadow of the trees. "All right," Steve said. "What are you going to tell Phillips, and what are we going to tell the guys?"
"If the Sergeant had been less competent we might be able to claim they beat him to get to me, but as it is that won't play," Peggy said. "I think it's easiest to say they were trying to let our dread do the work for them."
Barnes smiled, small but sincere. "Hydra ain't known for that kind of subtle," he said.
But Steve was nodding. "They aren't known for it, but that doesn't mean our friend the leutnent couldn't have been smarter than most." He pronounced the title with audible loathing.
"Damn good thing you're not gonna have to try'n sell this," Barnes told Steve.
Steve made a rueful face, but he made it meeting Barnes' eyes for the first time since they'd left the leutnent's room, so Peggy counted it a victory. "I'll just say he called me a bastard before he killed himself." He sighed. "That's Phillips. What about...?"
Peggy raised her chin. "They threatened me to try to get the Sergeant to talk, but I forbade him. There was a bit of, hm, groping, which he quite rightly ignored, and then they left us to worry." She smiled in her turn and knew it looked grim. "I'll ask everyone to keep it under their hats. They all know what Phillips can be like." It was a little unfair, but Phillips occasionally had eruptions of old-fashioned notions about a woman's place. He didn't seem to worry too much about her risk of getting killed, but her virtue was another matter—and she wouldn't entirely put it past him to decide Barnes had been at fault somehow.
"All right," Steve said. "Let's tell the others and then get moving. I'm sure you both need some real rest."
*
They drove back into camp in the grey pre-dawn. Peggy endured making her preliminary report to the Colonel but it wasn't difficult to sincerely plead fatigue. She forced herself through a quick but thorough wash and half-stumbled to her tent, where her pack, which had been carried out with Steve at the beginning of all this, sat on her cot.
Peggy took her boots off, crawled under the entirely inadequate blankets fully dressed, pressed the thin pillow over her face, and finally, finally allowed herself to weep.
FILL: When It's Over, I Might Dance 6/?
"You know what I mean," Barnes said roughly. Peggy smothered the irrational urge to strangle him; the cat had been well and truly out of the bag as soon as the leutnent opened his mouth, and leaving Steve to work it out on his own would have been in no way better.
Without appearing to realize what he was doing, Steve shifted where he stood, interposing himself between Peggy and Barnes. On the one hand, Peggy appreciated the impulse and understood why he was doing it; on the other, it did nothing but hurt Barnes and she could damn well take care of herself. "He had to," she said, hearing her own voice brittle as glass. "Our friend here gave me a choice." She kicked the leutnent's corpse, which she had to admit was petty. "Him and all his men..."
"Or you," Steve said to Barnes, who wore a neutral expression that Peggy suspected of being entirely false.
"Yeah," Barnes said. "Steve, you know I wouldn't—you know I wouldn't."
Steve clenched his jaw, but he looked Barnes in the eye when he said, "Yes, I know." He drew a breath, let it out, and turned back to Peggy. "You're going to have to...we'll have to tell the medics."
"Phillips can't know about this," Peggy said. "He's ridiculous about me going into the field already."
"I know enough to know you need to see a medic," Steve said gently. Peggy wanted to slap him.
"I will," she said shortly. "But I'll arrange it so Phillips won't find out."
Steve was opening his mouth (to object, but it wasn't his place to object, by God) when Jones called from the hallway, "Frenchie's done, Cap, you ready to move?"
For a moment no one answered. "On our way," Barnes called back finally. But they stood staring at each other for another long second before they turned to the door.
*
It wouldn't have taken the Howling Commandos to realize something had gone wrong between Steve and Barnes, and all of them were on edge by the time they got back to their vehicles. Peggy was slightly impressed that Phillips had committed Jeeps to this rescue—but then again, it was Steve, and they all knew precisely what he would do to save someone he loved. It was better to back him up than risk another unauthorized raid.
But there were multiple Jeeps, and Steve attempted, in the most unsubtle manner possible, to make sure that Peggy and Barnes didn't share one. In and of itself that might have gone unnoticed; as the behaviour of Steve Rogers, reunited with his best friend after rescuing him again...he might as well have dressed up like a Morris dancer and waved his wands about to indicate that something strange was going on. Even Dugan, not normally the most perceptive of men, looked tight around the eyes by the time Peggy settled the matter by climbing pointedly into the Jeep that Barnes was already sitting in. Steve, frowning, got in beside her, which left poor Morita to drive.
As Morita turned the key, he said, "You gotta quit doing this, Sarge. It's not good for Cap's heart." Behind them Dernier's fuses were burning down, the first charges booming into the night.
Barnes slouched back in his seat. "He'll get used to it," he said airily, and that was the end of that conversation.
*
It was a long drive back to base and Peggy drifted off despite herself, leaning into Steve's side. She woke when the Jeep slowed and blinked in muzzy confusion at the surrounding forest, no sign of Allied forces yet in sight. "Why are we stopping?" she muttered, resisting the urge to rub her eyes.
"Two minutes," Steve said to Morita instead of answering. Morita looked unhappy, but nodded. Steve jerked his head at Barnes, and Peggy frowned. Normally he'd have tapped his shoulder. The three of them climbed out of the Jeep and walked into the shadow of the trees. "All right," Steve said. "What are you going to tell Phillips, and what are we going to tell the guys?"
"If the Sergeant had been less competent we might be able to claim they beat him to get to me, but as it is that won't play," Peggy said. "I think it's easiest to say they were trying to let our dread do the work for them."
Barnes smiled, small but sincere. "Hydra ain't known for that kind of subtle," he said.
But Steve was nodding. "They aren't known for it, but that doesn't mean our friend the leutnent couldn't have been smarter than most." He pronounced the title with audible loathing.
"Damn good thing you're not gonna have to try'n sell this," Barnes told Steve.
Steve made a rueful face, but he made it meeting Barnes' eyes for the first time since they'd left the leutnent's room, so Peggy counted it a victory. "I'll just say he called me a bastard before he killed himself." He sighed. "That's Phillips. What about...?"
Peggy raised her chin. "They threatened me to try to get the Sergeant to talk, but I forbade him. There was a bit of, hm, groping, which he quite rightly ignored, and then they left us to worry." She smiled in her turn and knew it looked grim. "I'll ask everyone to keep it under their hats. They all know what Phillips can be like." It was a little unfair, but Phillips occasionally had eruptions of old-fashioned notions about a woman's place. He didn't seem to worry too much about her risk of getting killed, but her virtue was another matter—and she wouldn't entirely put it past him to decide Barnes had been at fault somehow.
"All right," Steve said. "Let's tell the others and then get moving. I'm sure you both need some real rest."
*
They drove back into camp in the grey pre-dawn. Peggy endured making her preliminary report to the Colonel but it wasn't difficult to sincerely plead fatigue. She forced herself through a quick but thorough wash and half-stumbled to her tent, where her pack, which had been carried out with Steve at the beginning of all this, sat on her cot.
Peggy took her boots off, crawled under the entirely inadequate blankets fully dressed, pressed the thin pillow over her face, and finally, finally allowed herself to weep.