Diner Encounters

A Matter of Time/Captain America Crossover

By: cultureandseptember

It'd been a terrible day. Peter Carothers and Michael Ridebank were getting more and more belligerent with each class meeting. One day, they would likely find themselves on the battlefield with incoming bullets and an actual threat to their existence. At sixteen, both boys were fortifying themselves in the desks at the back of the class, digging their heels in with each and every assignment that was passed their way. Any sheets of paper (important or otherwise) were turned into ammunition and sent flying in the form of spit balls toward the front of the classroom. Toward me. It was all I could do to keep order in the class, with the two of them taking every opportunity to challenge my authority. They were pranksters, young and restless. In the twenty-first century, they would have done well—multimedia would have benefited them greatly. However, I was limited to my time—rather, this time. November, 1940. With Peter's brother already enlisted and Michael's father desperate for an heir to the family business, they both had some terrible pressures upon them.

That didn't change the fact that they irritated the ever-loving everything out of me.

There were only twelve students in my class: four boys, eight girls. And the girls were a whole different issue altogether. Some were too shy to speak, sporting bruises that could only be caused by closed fists. Some were loud and brash and outspoken, but who were also the breadwinners of their parent-less households. I wished I could spare more time to help each of my students, but with the impending war and the weight of history and the constant nightmares…I wasn't in much of a position to help anybody, much less a group of young adults struggling to find themselves.

I sighed, shaking my head. My eyes skittered toward the clock on the wall above the counter. A quarter past four. Johnny was late. Late enough that I would find it within myself to complain, regardless of his kindness since June. Trying to ignore the frustration in my chest, I glanced toward the man eyeing me behind the tiled counter.

"Not trying to rush you, Miss." He gestured toward the pie display and grinned, white teeth contrasting with his dark Greek skin. His accent was more than enough indication of his heritage. "Since your company is late, wanna try a slice? Made fresh this morning!"

"Might as well." I shrugged and set to removing my heavy brown wool coat. As November rolled into the region, it brought stark winds and overcast skies. Brooklyn was chilled to the bone. "A slice of apple, please. And a cup of coffee?" He gave me a nod and a smile before walking off to get the items. I grabbed my purse, bag, and coat and settled myself in a more comfortable booth nearby, pulling a file from the bag and retrieving a red pen. Before the coffee arrived, I had already buried myself in the familiarity of grading. It was the only thing I had of my old world at the moment.

I was halfway through my pie and coffee when the bell above the diner door jangled and two young men walked in. I barely paid them any mind other than a quick glance. I returned to my work, noting that Peter had vastly improved in his work compared to Michael. It seemed at least one of them was willing to try, despite all appearances otherwise. I brushed my hair behind my ear and sighed, looking toward the clock. John was now an hour late. I could only imagine what had kept him this time. Maybe he had taken off for Washington again? If that was so, he could have somehow let me know. John was still learning with this whole roommate business, but it was at least courtesy. It'd only been a couple weeks since my meltdown at the theatre. I couldn't expect everything to get better instantly.

"What's a pretty dame like you doing all by your lonesome? Are—Are you grading papers?"

My heart lurched into my throat as my attention snapped upward and to my left. Standing at my shoulder was a man no older than me, a confused look on his face as he peered down at my marked papers. I felt my mouth work, but I couldn't quite achieve a sound retort. He reached down, bold as anything, and turned the top paper to his direction so that he could read the first lines. His smile lowered into a devious smirk as his attention flickered to me, dark eyes sparkling.

"That's a double negative in the first sentence. Well, it looks like Michael has earned your ire, Miss…" He looked at the paper again when I didn't answer, leaning down a bit as if to read the handwriting. "Daniels." He looked to me. "Got a first name to go with that, sweetheart?"

"M-Michelle," I choked out. I finally found myself, centering my thoughts instead on the fact that his friend was much smaller and standing just a few feet away, looking mighty uncomfortable. His hands were shoved so deep in his pockets, I thought he might actually fold into himself. That was all the reality I needed to snap out of my shock and return the man's smile as best I could. "Michelle Daniels." Reaching forward, I slipped the paper from under his fingers and aligned it with the rest of the papers before hiding them in their folder again.

"Michelle Daniels, huh?" He tested the name out with a grin. "So, Michelle, want some company?" Seeing the way I was leaning slightly away, he took a step back and offered his hand. "The name's James Barnes. Most of my friends just call me Bucky." He took a couple large steps backward and, as if predicting his friend's position, he threw his arm out when he arrived at the little guy's shoulder. "And this is Steve. We're really not the types to let a pretty dame eat alone." He really thought all the dame talk was flattering didn't he? I looked to the clock again, but he noticed the action. "Waiting for a date?"

"Waiting for a friend." I glanced toward Steve and smiled slightly, a gesture he hesitantly returned. "Is he always so forward?"

For his part, Steve looked a bit surprised at being addressed directly. He shifted and shrugged his bony shoulders. "Only always."

Letting out a sigh through my nose, I gestured toward the empty chairs at the opposite side of the table. "It looks like my friend's unforgivably late and my students don't deserve my anger right now. I'm not exactly from this neighborhood either, so I was hoping my friend could help me order the good stuff."

"The hash is good," Steve offered as Bucky practically threw him into a seat.

"Whereabouts are you from then? Heaven?" I snorted at the sheer lameness of the pickup and did him the courtesy of ignoring it. He noticed the roll of my eyes though. Though I felt a little uncomfortable with the approach, the presence of Bucky's friend was easing my nerves. Besides, with the way the lines were being delivered it almost felt more like kind flirting than anything pursuing romance. It was almost like he was playing. I couldn't be sure though. "I'm betting down south."

"I still have the accent then? I've been trying to hide it." How I missed running my hands through my hair! The waves would fall if I so much as petted my hair. "Nashville. You both from here?"

"Brooklyn, born and raised." Bucky nodded and sat back in his chair, throwing up a hand in greeting toward the Greek man behind the counter. "Three hash, Gio. Coffee, Steve? Two coffees. And put her stuff on my tab." I felt my brows jump to my hairline. I was not used to this. Since I had arrived in June, there had been no attempts at flirtation and I was hardly the relationship type when I was back in the twenty-first century. For a moment, I felt my hackles rise. I could pay for my own meal. I could order my own food. And I could most definitely do without condescension of any kind. I got enough of that at the school. I noticed that Steve was eyeing me warily, obviously keyed into the fact that Bucky's forwardness had irritated me. He didn't look comfortable enough to say anything though and he looked out of the window to avoid the confrontation.

Lips pursing, I leaned back in my seat. "I—" I stopped for a moment when the handsome man turned back my direction. Feeling a bit flustered, I looked at the top of my folder and splayed my hands along the table. It was a nice enough distraction from the usual nightmare—the school, the future, the loneliness. For a moment, it almost felt normal. What could it hurt, really? "Do you buy dinner like this for any woman who sits alone?"

"Only the pretty ones," Bucky returned easily. Steve snorted and I felt a pull at my lips. "A dame should never be left alone like that. Call it chivalry." When I didn't respond and instead focused on putting the folder back into my bag, he gestured toward me with a serious expression. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as he looked to Steve. There was a silent conversation between the two, with Bucky jerking his head in my direction while Steve just stared. After a moment, the former sighed. "So, who's this friend of yours? Another lovely lady like yourself?"

"You're laying it on too thick," I responded as three plates of hash were placed on the table by a humming Gio. He gave me a questioning look, almost as if asking me if the two were bothering me. My head shook and I gave a slight smile. If these guys came in as often as I thought they did, then he likely knew that James Barnes was a Class A flirt. I found myself actually reverting back a bit into my younger self, forgetting for a moment where I was. "Next thing you know, you'll be saying that my eyes sparkle like the stars." Steve started to choke on his potatoes.

"Your eyes sparkle like the stars," Barnes said in a silky voice that held no falseness. I nearly fell out of my chair, heat climbing up my neck. I didn't expect that. He laughed, the sound seeming to make his friend more comfortable. I couldn't quite understand why my stomach was flipping at the sound. No, this was not good. I didn't have time for this. Not with—No. My expression must have hardened because his expression became a bit concerned for a moment before he quickly hid it. "So, not a dame that you're meeting then?"

"Actually, I'm meeting my friend—Johnny. We were supposed to grab dinner. I guess something came up."

"So, uh—Are you sweet on this…Johnny No Good?"

Steve sent an elbow into his friend's stomach. "Knock it off, Bucky."

"No, it's not like that." I didn't even bat an eye. "John and I don't see each other that way."

"Sorry about that, doll face! I got caught up in a meeting, couldn't get out. Look who I brought!" Spinning in my seat, I saw two figures barreling down the diner car. Johnny was at the front, practically throwing people out of the way to get to where I sat. I felt a nervous energy claw at my gut and my heart stutter a bit in my chest. Brows pulling together at the feeling, I instead focused on the figure behind Johnny. Alfred was grinning from ear to ear, peeling his bomber jacket off as he strode behind the State. John was about halfway down the diner car when I turned back to the two across from me. "Don't tell me you're angry 'cause I got you a surprise to make up for it!"

"This your friend?" Bucky questioned with curiosity alighting his eyes. There was something else there though because I saw Steve sit a bit straighter. I almost missed the way he sat down his fork and slipped his hands below the table. His gaze shot to Bucky's. "Bit loud, isn't he? For a quiet dame like you, I mean."

John was standing by the table a moment later, fedora in his hand. "Glad you're still here, doll face. Wasn't too long ago when you would've split." He looked between my tablemates and me, lips pressing into a thin line before he held out his hand Barnes. "John J. Jones, and you are?" Alfred came up behind him, nudging my shoulder in an indication that I needed to scoot over. I didn't have much of a chance to inch toward the window before Al pushed himself onto the seat. As if steadying himself, he threw an arm over the back of the seat behind me. I was barely able to save my school bag from behind crushed and I quickly shifted my stuff to the floor beside my legs. Across from me, Steve's eyes narrowed a bit.

"Bucky Barnes." There was a handshake and no one made a move to get up. "Michelle was just about to tell us about you. Said you were supposed to meet her hours ago. I got a saying, 'Never make a woman wait.'" His attention flashed to me and he winked, a smirk pulling at his features.

"Brooklyn?" New York's question was directed to Steve, even if he didn't know the guy's name yet. Steve nodded, sending me a strange look. I just gave a long-suffering sigh and glanced out of the window into the dark night. There was something irritatingly familiar boiling in my stomach, a sensation I hadn't had since Corey had ruined my homecoming dance sophomore year. Or the time Jessie ran off my date for prom. Disappointment. "And you two just approach any random dame without a date?" The feeling that slid from my shoulders to my back was something close to rage.

"No," Steve spoke up. His voice was deeper than I'd have imagined. "Where we come from, you show women respect. Like showing up on time. Regardless if it's a date or not." I found some irony in the 'where we come from' part and it seemed that wasn't lost on New York because a smirk pulled at his lips. That only seemed to get Steve more fired up, a sort of righteous anger entering his feature. "And pushing her around after you've shown up two hours late? I'm not impressed."

Bucky grinned, crossing his arms as he sat back. I felt the arm sitting on the seat behind me fall to my shoulders. The dark-haired man's grin lessened. Alfred gave a raucous laugh, practically vibrating the entire diner. He kicked his leg out to tap the back of John's knee, sending him toppling for a moment. "And you say I've got a hero complex, Johnny!" His attention turned to Steve and he held up both hands in surrender. "Dude, I get that you're trying to help and all, but we're just looking out for her. Shelly's like family." His attention turned toward Bucky. "Get what I'm saying?"

"Loud and clear." There was a moment when everyone was quiet, sort of a Mexican stand-off of male egos. My heat shook, brows pulling together as it seemed that with each passing second the smallest of the group was winning the fight. Steve was not backing down and that was unsettling for the sheer stubbornness of New York and America. It was actually rather impressive, consider Bucky had grown bored of the whole thing and had pulled a pen from his jacket pocket and seemed to be jotting down a note.

"Okay, that's enough of that." I wished I had a shell to crawl into when that escaped my mouth. Both hands rose and I placed them over my lips, surprised at my own gumption. With it already out, I decided to just go with it as best I could. John rocked back on his heels, clearly trying to hide behind Alfred. "You could have given me warning. I could have gotten so much grading done at home."

"Grading? But— Alright. Geez. Look what happened, Alfred! You got me chastised!" Alfred just laughed, shrugging his shoulders as he shoveled the rest of my pie into his mouth. "This is all your fault. If you'd just listened to me about the flowers then—"

"Michelle." I turned to see Bucky sliding a slip of paper toward me through the drinks and plates. Steve was already standing, pulling his jacket over his shoulders. He was still scowling, obviously not pleased to be leaving so soon. I gave him a questioning look and he just looked more irritated. Bucky smiled, heart-breakingly handsome, and I could finally understand the girls that swooned at the sight of men. Lord help me. I did not need this now. "This is my address. Feel free to look me up if you need me…or if you need a friend." His jab at John didn't go overlooked as he gave me a another wink and a smirk.

Steve walked behind him, stopping momentarily at Johnny's shoulder to say something before departing after his friend.

"Well, that was fun." Johnny sighed, falling into Bucky's empty chair. He gave me a perplexed look over the remaining hash. It was almost as if he were considering some sort of life-altering question with the way his eyes raked over my face. I couldn't quite say what he was looking for, but he must not have found it before he shrugged. "The shortie was intimidating."

"I liked him," Alfred smiled. "What'd he say to you, Johnny? Threaten to kick your tail?"

New York snorted, shaking his head. "Told me to meet him in the alley behind Gino's in ten."

America's arm still rested around my shoulder and I glanced down to the piece of paper in my hand.

Your eyes really do sparkle.

I felt my lips pull up into a smile and I knew that Alfred and Johnny were watching. There was an address, as if I would write to him or chase him down. Maybe it was meant as an escape. I don't know. My stomach was dancing with butterflies one moment and then sinking with dread the next. Slowly, my hand tightened into a fist and the paper crumpled beneath my fingers. No matter how my heart was sputtering, I couldn't—I was never meant for flirtatious words and romance, especially not now and not anymore. Not after—I sighed and shook my head. The smile that returned to my face was one that didn't meet my eyes. Alfred's arm tightened around my shoulder and if he noticed that I put the piece of paper on the plate after I was finished eating, he didn't say anything.

It was hard to believe my eyes could sparkle any more, but I believe that for a short time that evening, they probably did.

I originally posted this on Tumblr a long while ago. I think I am going to slowly aggregate all my oneshots and drabble series together on this site. So, look out for a oneshot series (or drabbles, whatever) in another story thing. I just want to have these all together somehow.

Hope everyone enjoys the crack pairing!