A/N: Well, it's been nearly 3 years since my last update and I felt it was time to give up the ghost. The muse for this fic hasn't been very kind to me, but I was able to write the epilogue for the fic way back when. So now I'm sharing this to finally put this fic (and my guilt about it) to rest. Maybe, one day, when I'm old and gray, I'll go back and try to write the chapter that should have been before this and all the deleted scenes/one-shots I had in mind for after. But today is not that day. In the meantime, enjoy what was to be the epilogue for the story itself…. Sorry for the wait.

A warm breeze carried the scent of sweetgrass and fresh-turned soil past you, yet the normally pleasant smell was more off-putting given the location. The crisp spring day seemed a stark contrast to the rows of gravestones you strode past, your daughter tucked in your arms. She'd been walking on her own for a while now, but it had been a long day and her little legs could only hold out so long. Her face was tucked in the crook of your neck now, dozing lightly with her small feet dangling and her arms thrown around your neck in a hug. Maybe you should have had her keep practicing across the somewhat uneven ground, but how could you pass up holding your sweet little girl with her father's dimpled chin and your sister's name. Besides, it was probably best she was out of it for what you were about to do.

Stopping in front of one of the plots, you bit at your lower lip quietly a moment, uncertain how to start. Your eyes roamed the marker as your heart thundered in your chest, eyes tracing along the letters etched in stone. Barnes. The name made your gut twist in knots and you had to take a shaky breath to steady yourself.

"Well, Buck. You told me I had to tell you. No matter where you were at or what you were doing," you spoke quietly. You had to sniff against the tears forming in your eyes, pet your daughter's soft, dark curls before you could go on. "I'm pregnant again, Bucky. Gonna be another little Barnes running around. Can you believe it?"

Silence met you in those few heartbeats, even the wind in the trees seeming to have stopped, waiting. Then Bucky's face turned up to greet you from where he knelt at the foot of the grave, his expression overjoyed and overwhelmed in equal measure despite the dark circles under his eyes from a fitful night's rest. After a second, he surged to his feet to grip the back of your neck and haul you in for a kiss. Of course he'd be happy, ecstatic. It was probably only the first stirrings of hormones that had you worrying otherwise.

"No foolin, right, sweetheart," he breathed hopefully against your lips when he rested his forehead to yours. "You wouldn't play with an old man's heart like that, would ya?"

"I just got off the phone with the doctor's office. I didn't want to get your hopes up until I knew for sure," you answered with a fond roll of your eyes as you grasped his hand to press his palm low on your belly. His delighted laughter was infectious, crinkling the corners of his adoring eyes even as he turned back toward the row of grave markers.

"Ya hear that Ma? Pop," he asked, a soft sob to his voice through his wide grin. His eyes fell to where his fingers rested, thumb brushing aimlessly along your stomach as he stared nearly awestruck. "Gonna be a dad again. My sweetheart's givin me another baby."

"Daddy," a small voice spoke from your shoulder, little fists rubbing against tired eyes.

"Aw, c'mere, sugar plum," Bucky cooed sweetly. The excitement in his voice was barely contained as he carefully took her from you, tucking her in the crook of his metal elbow with a little bounce. "I'm sorry. Daddy didn't mean to wake ya."

"No sleep, daddy," she protested with a yawn before leaning in to press her cheek under his chin. Her eyes slowly drifted shut again as little fingers reached up to grasp near the buttons of his shirt and Bucky ducked his head to press a kiss into her hair.

His gaze returned to you, that soft, loving expression lighting his face as his free hand cupped your jaw with flesh fingers. As you pressed into his touch, you finally realized your cheeks had begun to ache from how much you'd been smiling. Bucky leaned in to kiss you again, warm and lingering, like he couldn't pull away, and even after all this time it still made your heart flutter.

"Jesus, baby, another baby," he chuckled at himself. Then a proud grin lit up his face. "Can't wait ta tell the guys. They're gonna be so excited."

You fixed him with an admonishing look as you pulled his hand from your cheek to tug him toward the car. "Oh no you don't, mister. You better not say a thing at the party tonight."

"C'mon, a party's the perfect place to tell everyone," Bucky countered, shooting a look back over his shoulder to his parents' plot. You let him go, scolding yourself for being so rude and trying to rush him away. But he only paused a moment longer, nose buried in your daughter's hair as she snored gently. When you slipped your hand low on his back, he hooked his arm around your shoulders to tuck you into his side before moving to guide you down the grassy row.

You were nearly back at the car when Bucky spoke again, opening up the back door where the carseat waited. "Can't believe you don't want me ta share the good news tonight."

"Bucky," you clucked your tongue, but with no real ire in your voice as he strapped your daughter in. "Tonight is about Sam and Steve, not us."

"It's a housewarming, not an engagement party," he snickered as he tried to click the harness quietly to avoid jostling the baby too much. "Besides, everyone, everyone, knew before me last time."

A little hand stayed wrapped around Bucky's until he carefully removed it, replacing his wrist with the arm of the giant stuffed polar bear in the seat beside. It had gone through quite a bit since he'd won it for you, from the weeks and months you were apart and it was your only comfort, to becoming your daughter's near-constant companion after daddy told her it would watch over her in his place whenever he absolutely had to be away on a mission. Its white fur was dingy now, with a few colorful stains and spots where you'd had to mend seams from a bit of rough handling, but it was well-loved and you wouldn't change a thing about it.

"Okay, fine," you said, relenting as Bucky straightened himself from the backseat. "You can tell Steve and Sam and if they give the go ahead, you can make a big deal out of it."

"As you wish," he smiled with a mischievous glint while settling his hands at your waist and smothering you in another kiss that had you leaning back against the car. Maybe you both knew those two men, who called themselves uncles before you even had a chance to, would be almost as excited as Bucky was.

After managing to pull away to catch your breath, you couldn't help tugging the front of his shirt affectionately. "So, you ready for another nine months of me waddling around, fat and moody?"

"Are you kiddin me, sweetheart?" Bucky crooked an amused eyebrow at you. "I dunno how you managed it, but you were even more beautiful when you were carryin our little girl."

"Sweet talker," you scoffed gently and shoved lightly at his broad chest.

It didn't bother him one bit. Instead, a cheeky grin spread his face and he dipped his head closer to speak in a lower tone. "Besides, I can't wait til them hormones hit ya and you won't be able to keep your hands off me again."

You snorted, trying not to be too loud with the baby sleeping closeby. What a joke. Since when have you ever been able to keep your hands off him? To prove the point, you reached around and slipped your fingers into his back pockets, pulling him closer to you, which he easily complied with. "Are you sure you can keep up with me again, old man? We could see about getting you some Viagra..."

"Oh, you don't gotta worry about that, kid. Ya smart ass," Bucky chuckled under his breath with a shake of his head, tip of his nose brushing yours before he pressed his lips to yours again.

He kissed you thoroughly, taking his sweet time despite the awkward locale. But stealing moments in the strangest of places and at the oddest of times had become practically a necessity since your daughter came along. How you'd found time to make another was a miracle. So, there were no qualms keeping you from slipping your fingers through his hair and giving over to him momentarily, letting him pour some of his joy back into you and melting a little more when his hand found your stomach again to palm just below your belly button. The gentle intimacy of the touch sent a fluttering through your gut. Your arms were still looped around his neck when the two of you parted, but he had no interest in moving away at the moment. Bucky tilted his head back to regard you with a tender, disbelieving expression.

"You're too good to me, солнышко," he said quietly, in that familiar, vulnerable tone. "After what I been through, I couldn't let myself hope. Now I got more'n I ever coulda dreamed of. How's a bum like me get so lucky?"

"You deserve this, Bucky," you replied, cutting off the protest forming on his lips with a furrow of your brow and a gentle tug of his hair. "You deserve to be happy. You've earned it."

Tongue darting out along his lower lip, Bucky shook his head with a huff before setting his smile back on you. "And what about you, huh, Mrs. Barnes? How're you feelin?"

"What can I say, Sarge," you sighed, teasing, knowing the title sent a thrill through him as much as calling you by his last name. Regarding him a moment, you remembered the way he looked the first time you met him, when he'd been shuffled into your house, stoic and disheveled and displaced. Though he was still occasionally plagued by his past, it was a far cry from the man standing in your arms now. The man who mucked through hell and still wanted to do good. Who you were meant to help and helped you too. Your husband, the father of your child. Children, now. Your fingers slid from his hair to grip his chin affectionately. "I guess I'm just a sucker for a happy ending."

Another bright smile greeted you as you pulled Bucky in for one more kiss before he carefully, quietly shut the back door of the car and helped you into the passenger seat. He rounded the front of the car to slide behind the wheel, taking a glance in the backseat to check on your daughter before the engine roared to life. Once he had the car in gear, his fingers slipped between yours on the console, thumb caressing gently over your knuckles as he threw you a grin and pulled away from the curb.