Gold to Airy Thinness Beat

Chapter Seventeen

They took a train from the front lines into London. It arrived specifically for the SSR and carried only soldiers and related personnel and supplies back. There were no private compartments but it was still nicer than anything Stephanie had ever been on. The benches were in sets of two facing one another with tables placed between them to allow for books or other things. Everything was paneled in wood, the floors were carpeted and the dining car had amazing food, made even better after having been confined to rations since coming over.

The view outside the window was peaceful, for the most part. There were fields that had been destroyed by armies marching over them, the grass broken and torn with deep ruts from tanks and vehicles. Other areas showed signs of hasty retreat with bandages and spent ammunition littering the landscape. Stephanie knew the signs of war would be even worse once they reached London, which was nowhere near recovered from the destruction visited upon it by German bombing raids.

Still, it wasn't all death and destruction. There were areas with quiet farms yet untouched by war, calm rivers running off into the distance and even the occasional far off sight of a fox or other animal darting off as the train rattled past.

It was beautiful and, in all fairness, Stephanie should have spent her entire trip simply looking out the window. She'd even gotten her sketch pad and pencils out and spread them on the worn table in the hopes of sketching some of the landscapes as they passed.

She'd ended up barely setting pencil to page, however, before she'd found her attention drawn away from the window where it was quickly caught, and held, by the dedicated study of one Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.

He was currently seated at the other end of the car, engaged in a card game with some of the other men. His back was to her and Stephanie found herself studying the way his hair just touched his collar, how the breadth of his shoulders stretched the material of his jacket and how every time he turned his head to talk to someone, giving her the barest hint of his profile; her heart jolted inside her. She kept finding herself wishing he'd turn around and notice her, which was ridiculous as he knew full well where she was. He'd been sitting with her, casting wistful looks toward the card game until she'd rolled her eyes and told him to go play already. He'd nearly fallen out of his seat making it over and she'd smiled in affection, watching as he reached the table and joined in...and then she'd kept watching. Eventually she gave in and began to sketch him instead of the view out the window, the pencil quickly giving shape to the man on the page before her.

"I can't decide if you're trying to communicate with him using telepathy," a familiar, accented voice said as a body dropped onto the bench across from her, "or if you're trying to kill him with your mind."

Stephanie jerked her eyes away from Bucky and slammed the sketchpad closed, her face heating in embarrassment. "I was not staring."

Peggy gave her a disbelieving look, one eyebrow carefully arched. She folded her arms on the table, her hands clasped together in front of her. "You two aren't fighting are you?"

"What?" Stephanie asked in surprise. "No, of course not."

"Then, if I might ask," Peggy said, "why are you trying to bore a hole through Sergeant Barnes' skull?"

"Tony says Bucky's in love with me," Stephanie blurted and then immediately felt her eyes widen in horror. She cast a look around quickly, terrified someone might have overheard only to see everyone going about their business as usual. The car was filled with soldiers excited to be leaving the front lines so it wasn't exactly quiet. It was a wonder she and Peggy could hear one another and they were only a foot or so apart.