#and then Soap does almost burn down the barn pretty immediately

[friday-ocean]

Be my Baby - Part 1/2

Part 1 ~ Part 2

Summary: Bucky and his comrades find by chance a nice little dinner that even offers Eastern European specialties. As a waitress you have seen many soldiers come to the diner, but Bucky is different. Paring: 40!BuckyBarnes & Female!Reader Warnings: smut (kissing, unprotected vaginal sex - Protect yourselves!) Words: ca. 4200

For @interestedbystanderwrites  writing challenge!

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New York in spring 1943

At night all cats are grey. Since the beginning of the new, terrible overseas war, life on the streets of New York seems to have become bleaker. While at the beginning of the year even at late hours colourful figures populated the streets, they now lie empty and abandoned. The few who seek their way, however, are silent and sad figures. Even the warm, flickering light of the gas lanterns does not seem to illuminate their faces.

What do they want? What is their task? Where is their goal?

At the end of the street block, however, the darkness and dreariness are broken by warm rays of light. Besides all the closed dance clubs and cafés, this little diner looks like the last bastion of warmth and safety. The daily business so far has been quiet. A few businessmen, an old retired couple and two students who had clearly drunk too much coffee. Now, in the late afternoon, no more guests are expected: it is still too early for dinner, too late for coffee and cake.

 With clever fingers you fold the freshly washed and fortified napkins - from your place in the kitchen you have the whole room in view. The bell above the entrance door announces new guests, curiously you raise the gaze. In the entrance there is a group of five soldiers. Not an unusual sight in times of war, but these are young, strong men with freshly shaved faces, in their finest dress uniforms. Leave the napkins on your left and quickly smooth your apron over your skirt.

 With a smile you greet the group, the menu cards already in your hand. "A table for five?" you ask, and everyone involved nods. You lead the group to a small box quite far away from the counter. In your experience, the boys will soon roar and laugh so loudly that every other guest will leave the small diner annoyed.

 One of the soldiers pulls up a chair to sit at the short edge of the table, the others sit down on the two benches. Each receives a menu card from you before you pull a small notepad and pencil out of the pocket of your apron. "Do you already like something to drink? Or look at the card first?" Instead of getting an answer all shake their heads and look concentrated into the menu. Funny, you withdraw behind the counter. The five soldiers are all much bigger and stronger, together they make an impressive picture. But as soon as one of them must stand alone, they can hardly open their mouths.

 A clearing of the throat wakes you up from your observations. One of the soldiers had left the group and stepped up to you at the counter. A cheeky little grin surrounds his lips, but much more fascinating are his light blue eyes, which fix you from long eyelashes. The clarity of his gaze is so overwhelming that you are drawn directly into his spell. Imagining your fascination, his grin gets even bigger. "We ask ourselves," he begins, leaning on the counter, "what today's dish is." With his big hand he pushes a menu card over the counter and points with his long index finger to the paragraph "Please ask us for our daily specials!

 This dandy with the dark, combed back hair is aware of his effect on the female sex. But it takes a little more than a few pretty eyes, big hands and long fingers to get you off your game. With a professional smile, you point to the blackboards hanging above you: "Does nobody teach you to read in the soldier school? A tender blush forms on his cheeks. He doesn't seem to be used to cheeky answers from women. ‘Cute', you think. You'll still have a lot of fun with this pretty boy today.

 The beau had once again taken a seat with his comrades, who had, however, only conditionally noticed his little excursion; she was too captivated by the sight of your colleague hurrying to the entrance at the large window front. Perfectly styled curls, a wide swinging skirt and the much too sweet scent of her perfume brought her the attention of everyone. She gives you an apologetic look before flitting into the kitchen. A glance at your wristwatch tells you that she now must explain her 37-minute delay to the boss. Enough time for you to quickly take the soldiers' orders. Once dear Fanny had taken up her post at the bar, the soldiers couldn't think clearly any more...

 "Decided?" you ask into the rune and twist the pencil between your fingers. Burger, milkshake, coke, cheeseburger', you write down. "Pelmeni." "Pelmeni?" you ask and raise your gaze. The pretty boy smiles: "The one with meat and sour cream with it." You nod and write down his wish: "Tea with sugar and cream with it"? "Of course," his smile is so charming that you can't hold back and give him a little smile as well.

 Passing the order on to the kitchen triggers a little turmoil. Cookware rattles, the cook screams something incomprehensible to the kitchen boy. Meanwhile you take care of the drinks. You're amazed at the beauty's order. Pelmeni is an Eastern European speciality and today's dish. The cook of the diner immigrated some years ago from Eastern Europe to New York, opened the diner, offers burgers and meat loaf and lives the American dream. Yet his European soul lives on: every day in a different dish of the day, in tea and in ice-cold vodka. Normally only old friends or guest workers ordered these specialities, such a young man is unusual!

 Fanny has meanwhile agreed to bring the heavy tray to the table with the soldiers. No real miracle. As soon as she sensed the chance to flirt with young men, she had the greatest zeal for work imaginable! But mercy to her God, as soon as the rag or the bucket called, any snail could overtake her. The young men seem to be really taken with Fanny. They speak directly louder, laugh with Fanny about some avoidably funny comment.

 Suddenly a bright pointed scream sounds and you hear glass break. Apparently Fanny had overreached himself with the heavy tray. When she took a glass down to give it to the soldier, she lost her balance and the whole tray fell into the beau's lap. Quickly you hurry up with a rag to help your colleague, who has solidified directly into a pillar of salt.

 "Excuse me! What a terrible accident", you try to excuse your colleague. "Oh woe...", the last milkshake had fallen into the beau's lap, the sticky liquid covered his entire uniform jacket. "Oh, that's not so bad," he tries to talk down the misfortune. "We'd better wash out the stain right away. Dried milk is really disgusting...", you grab the young man by the arm and pull him up from his seat. "Fanny catches the rag with big eyes. She won't be able to avoid this cleaning work this time.

 Together with the young man you disappear behind a door that shows 'Private' in big letters. The door hides a small laundry room in which all cleaning things, buckets and old boxes are stored. The light flickers and you push the man in front of you. "Take off your jacket and give it to me," you say decisively. From one of the shelves you look for a light rag and curd soap, while hot water runs into the large sink. "I want to apologize again for my colleague", you say and want to take the jacket.

 You draw in the air sharply. Jesus Christ! What a sight! The olive-green uniform shirt stretched slightly over the raised chest, caressing his narrow shoulders and waist. With a shy smile he hands you the heavy jacket. "It's really not necessary for you to apologize. Nor is it necessary for you to go to the extra trouble of washing the jacket. You shrug your shoulders and stroke the collar of the uniform jacket inconspicuously as you spread it out over the sink. "I can't let her go back to the barracks with a dirty jacket. What will your commander say to you, Mr. Barnes?"

 "How does she know my name," the soldier blinks at you in surprise. A mischievous smile surrounds your lips: "Shall I tell them the greatest secret of waitresses? The young man takes a big step towards you, now stands close behind you. Your smile gets even bigger: "We can read!" Your wet finger points to the shining name tag.

 A throaty laugh rings out and only now do you realize how close he is to you. His warm breath tickles your neck, his aftershave, a mixture of citrus and warm wood, clouds your senses. Swallowing hard you try to concentrate on your work. To your satisfaction, the biggest stain was already washed out. "But please call me Bucky."

With your eye brown raised, you stop moving: "Bucky?" "Short for 'Buchanan'. 'James Buchanan Barnes' to be exact." Continuing with your action again, you dare to ask yourself another question that is already burning on your tongue. "How come you know Pelmeni, Bucky? His name rolls naturally over your lips.

 "My mother cooks the best pelmeni. Who knows, if I like yours, I might come by more often." "Then we will soon see you more often. Our Russian specialties are the best in New York!" "Does that mean I'll see you again?" His question is almost a whisper against your ear. Involuntarily, heat rises your cheeks. Bucky comes a little closer to you, puts his upper body against your back. You feel his sinewy chest and can't resist the urge to squeeze on him.

 Devoutly you hope that he puts his big hands on your hips. But suddenly the door is torn open and bright light streams into the dim room. You immediately worry about what people only think when they see you and Bucky standing so close together. Fanny looks at you with narrow eyes: "Will you give me the mop?"

 Blinking, you register that Bucky is no longer behind you. In a flash he brought as much distance between you as is possible in the small room. With his arms crossed, he leans against the shelf of cleaning products, smiling friendly, as if he had nothing to do with the redness and heat in your face. To get to the mop, you push past Bucky, his gaze rests on you, a cheeky glint makes his bright eyes shine even brighter. You pass the mop to Fanny and try to hide your excitement: "I'll help you immediately. The jacket is clean already". Fanny only nods with curly lips and the door slams shut behind - the light now dim and warm again.

 One last swab with the cloth and the uniform jacket is clean again: "Now just let it dry and you can dare to go back to the barracks". With a bright smile Bucky accepts the jacket: "Thank you! The waitress in this diner is really wonderful." Playfully annoyed, you twist your eyes. Before Bucky can approach again, you open the door and walk into the bright light.

 Bucky is not the first soldier to try to get closer to you. Apparently, the belief in one's own irresistibility is handed over with the uniform. But this time you can't soothe the blush and your fast beating heart as easily as you go back to the counter...

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Part 2