Gold to Airy Thinness Beat

Chapter Thirty-One

Bucky studied his reflection with dispassion.

Stark's lab, usually full of people and noise, was empty but for the two of them.

Next to him, Stark fidgeted nervously, trying to read the completely blank expression on the face of his friend.

"I knew you wouldn't want the one they made Tony wear in the show," he said, anxiously, his hands making a vague gesture at the costume, "and I know how you wanted to, you know, keep her in people's minds so I thought -- you know, you might--"

"It's fine," Bucky said, his voice flat. He raised a hand lightly to run it over the star set dead in the middle of his chest, the stripes spreading out from it toward his shoulders. "I thought you said you'd run out of this stuff."

"Managed to get some more," Stark said vaguely. He offered no further explanation and Bucky didn't ask. "That's why it took so long to get it done. Just as strong as--" His voice faded. "Well, you know."

Bucky didn't respond. He would have preferred to continue wearing his standard gear but the brass wanted Captain America, not James Barnes. The same way they'd wanted Lady Liberty and not Stephanie Barnes, until they hadn't even wanted her.

He would have told them where they could shove their Captain America costume if they hadn't been smart enough to have Stark deal with it. They'd had Phillips tell him about the damn promotion they'd decided to force on him. Apparently, Sergeant America didn't have the same ring to it as Captain.

Tony hadn't even been in the military, let alone an officer, but ever since Bucky had revealed he was enhanced the brass had been bending over backwards to play up to him. Even Brandt, who seemed to have an odd conviction that Bucky was weak-willed and had been under his wife's thumb and who further appeared to believe that, now that his wife was gone, Bucky would be open to someone new controlling him.

The moron had wanted Bucky returned to Washington to take part in a ceremony officially promoting him to Captain and showing him off as Captain America. When Phillips had told him, Bucky had casually replied that, if he went, he would most likely end up shooting Brandt in the face.

The ceremony had gone on as scheduled with the excuse that Captain America was far too busy fighting Hydra to attend.

Bucky imagined he would have to go eventually, if only to deal with the fact that Brandt was still trying to float the theory that he'd been Captain America all along, working undercover after faking his death.

He hadn't openly claimed Stephanie had simply been a front but the implication was there and that was unacceptable. Bucky would have dealt with it already if it were not for the fact that Hydra still existed, which was even more unacceptable.

"The star still feels like a bullseye," Bucky said, his eyes never leaving his own reflection. She'd always looked larger than life in her uniform, a hero standing against the crashing waves of evil. He looked like a guy in desperate need of sleep wearing a costume. A pale shadow of a former glory. "A sniper would probably send me a thank you note."

"It's supposed to be a bullseye," Stark said. "It's bulletproof, the rest of the costume isn't. You get shot," he reached out and tapped the star, dead center on Bucky's chest, "you want to get hit there. Being enhanced, it probably won't even bruise."

The image in the mirror wavered and then she was standing there, proudly exclaiming over her new uniform.

"Look, Bucky, it has pants! What do you think? Do you like it?"

His jaw tightened and one hand clenched into a fist as a rush of emotion tried to overtake him. Bucky fought it back with the ease of long practice and turned away from the mirror to grab his belt and holstered pistol from the nearby table.