A/N: So, if you're reading this and you're also a reader of Songbirds and Bombshells…DON'T WORRY! I haven't given up on S&B, I'm currently drafting Chapter 14, but it's taking longer than expected and to be honest, I needed a bit of a break. Hence, this little AU featuring Sadie and Bucky. A little writing exercise turned into this and I was having so much fun writing that I decided to turn it into a six-part mini fic while I continue to plug away at Songbirds.

So, I love school and I particularly loved my senior year of college and parts of this story are taken directly from my own early twenties…and the college town (unnamed for the time being) is inspired by Fayetteville, Arkansas, where I lived for a time.

Anyway, unlike Songbirds, this fic is purely for fun so expect lots of banter and lots of fluff! There are warnings for language, however. If anyone really wants me to, I'll up the rating, but for now it's just fine at a T.

Finally, I'm going to be pulling in Marvel characters for little cameos here and there…if there's anyone you want to see or think would be funny, just let me know! A million thanks to Stencil Your Heart for betaing and to Mopargirl1, who always listens to my crazy ideas.

Disclaimer – I don't own Captain America. I do own Sadie, Evie, Betty, and everything else you don't recognize!

The Old College Try

Part One – Coffee Thieves and Setups

All Sadie Reid wanted was a twenty-ounce iced non-fat latte and in record time. What the she got was a line that stretched nearly to the door and the sinking feeling that she just might, would probably, definitely be running late. Punctuality was a particularly strong suit of Sadie's; she was always the first to arrive at restaurants to meet friends and had to force herself to be comfortable showing up late to parties. This obsession with timeliness especially applied to two things: school and work. Sadie was never late to summer jobs or any class, never prepared with a breathless half-apology, and never made insincere promises that it would never happen again. But, Sadie Reid also never dared to start her morning without her ritual cup of coffee. Despite knowing it was scientifically impossible, she'd begun to think that her body might literally shut down without her usual morning latte.

And so, Sadie found herself in the midst of an existential crisis as the line painfully dwindled painfully slowly. Skip her morning coffee and make it to class on time? Or accept that nobody was perfect and get her coffee anyway? The options dug down to the very core of Sadie's Type A personality. She hated breaking routine and she hated being late. But this morning, late was the lesser of two evils and so she slipped her backpack off one shoulder and dug her wallet out of the top zippered pocket.

Rocking up and down on the balls of her feet, Sadie now turned her mind to exactly who was to blame for her inexcusable lateness. Perhaps she could blame her roommate, Peggy Carter, for keeping her up too late last night with a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and a bottle of cheap white wine. It could possibly be Evelyn Lewis and Betty Carnahan's fault for drunk dialing Sadie at the tender hour of two-thirty in the morning, singing "Total Eclipse of the Heart" at the top of their lungs. But Sadie knew who the real culprit was.

Her mother texted Sadie before her alarm went off with a cheery message, luring her into the false sense of security. "Happy last first day of college! Love you!" the message had said, followed by six smiley faces wearing sunglasses. Half asleep and not in her right mind, Sadie made the single biggest mistake of her morning. She'd texted back. "Thanks mom! Love you too!"

Sadie's phone rang two minutes before her alarm went off, and she sat up in her bed, pushing her waves of espresso and plum hair out of her face. Immediately, she recognized her grave mistake. But it was too late now; her mother knew she was awake and would not rest until Sadie answered. When her mother asked Sadie what she planned to wear on her last first day, Sadie made the further mistake of cavalierly saying running shorts and a t-shirt, because what else would she wear? What followed was a painful exercise in Sadie's mother mentally rifling through the back of Sadie's closet where she shoved all the expensive clothes that came in care packages from home with passive aggressive suggestions that maybe Sadie would have a boyfriend if she took thirty extra minutes every morning to do her hair and dressed like she cared.

It took a pair of skinny jeans, silk floral tank, and a pair of t-strap sandals to mollify her mother into hanging up. By the time Sadie tossed her phone into her backpack and considered changing, she was already ten minutes behind schedule. Sadie had been hurriedly twisting her hair into a messy top knot when her roommate, Peggy, came out of her bedroom and arched a brow in surprise at the sight of Sadie dressed in actual pants.

"Did the university change its dress code?" Peggy wondered aloud, prompting Sadie to flip Peggy off before she grabbed her backpack and sprinted out of the door, only to slip and fall as a result of her incredibly inconvenient sandals. Her only saving grace was the garage parking pass her mother insisted Sadie needed if she was going to be studying on campus late at night. So she raced to campus and rushed to The Beanery, the local coffee shop on the East side of campus, only to find the line packed with nervous freshmen, carrying their brand-new backpacks and chattering about orientation and getting lost on the way to the student union from their dorm.

Yes, thought Sadie darkly, this was all her mother's fault. Curse southern women and their stupid southern stubbornness, she thought hopelessly. She'd gone to college halfway across the country in part to get away from that world; the world where girls dressed up for football games and their lives revolved around collecting their baker's dozen future bridesmaids for their chic barn weddings. It was a life she'd never wanted and her mother willingly accepted that, but not without some fight along the way.

At long last, it was her turn and she stepped up to the counter, pulling her credit card out of her wallet as she did. Hastily, she ordered and stepped away to the other side of the counter, shifting her way between a knot of freshmen as she did.

Her phone buzzed in her back pocket and she pulled it out. Unbidden to her, a smirk tugged at her lips - it was Evie.

I think I'm dying. You're going to be a doctor, how can I tell if I'm dying?

Sadie fought the urge to laugh. Her steely grey eyes flickered up to see a guy leave the counter, shoving his wallet into the back of his jeans. His blue eyes were set beneath his long-ish chestnut hair and he hadn't shaved in a couple of days. Handsome, she thought absently, and she looked away from him as his eyes casually settled on her. Instead, she returned to focusing on Evie's text message.

Don't quote me on it, but I'm pretty sure that you can't die from a hangover.

I want a second opinion.

That wasn't a first opinion. Drink a shit ton of water, take two painkillers, EAT SOMETHING, and stop drinking so much! And if all else fails, try a little hair of the dog.

I'm never drinking again…I think I'm going to puke.

Sadie rolled her eyes. If she had a dollar for every time she heard that excuse, her undergrad loans would be paid for. Sadie put her phone away just as the barista called her order. She forced her way up to the counter just as the blue eyed, long-haired guy grabbed her coffee. Well, that just wasn't going to do.

"Hey! That's my coffee!" She said just as he began to turn away.

The guy pivoted back and Sadie's train of thought only narrowly escaped derailment. Handsome didn't do this coffee-stealer justice. He wore his plaid shirt like it was tailor made for him and his shoulders were deceptively broad. Confusion and amusement danced in his piercing blue eyes as he took her in.

"This is a large non-fat latte, right? That's what I ordered."

Non-fat? Sadie wasn't sure this guy had an ounce of fat on his body. Shoving aside the sarcastic comment about his preference for non-fat milk, she pointed to the cup. "That's my order too and I ordered before you. I'm no genius, but if I ordered first then that's my drink."

He smiled at her, showing off as many of his straight white teeth as he could. Sadie forcefully ignored the slight uptick in her pulse. Why were all the handsome ones inexcusable jerks? "Hey Connie, who was this latte for?"

The barista, a miniature girl with flowing brown hair and enormous doe eyes looked up from the espresso machine. "For you, Bucky. Can't forget one of my best customers!"

Several choice words about what kind of services this Bucky was actually purchasing danced on the tip of her tongue. Instead she stared between the two, slack-jawed. Is this what passed for customer service on the East side of campus? No wonder she avoided the East Campus like the plague.

"See? A simple mix-up. But since you're clearly in a hurry, go ahead and take it," he said and held the cup out to her.

Sadie looked at him dubiously. "You're kidding," she said. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the barista had returned to her coffee-making. "A hot girl makes your order out of line and you're just going to give it to a stranger?"

He shrugged. "I think we both know you need it more than I do."

Sadie wasn't even going to try and argue against him. Instead, she took the coffee, their fingers lightly brushing. "Thanks," she said, still not entirely convinced. When he didn't say anything else, Sadie took a few steps backwards before giving him a painfully awkward half-wave and then rushed out of The Beanery, destined for one of the last places on earth she wanted to be: Philosophy 2203.

X X X

Did you make it to class? Or am I going to have to talk you out of driving all the way to Little Rock just so you can yell at your mother and burn your outfit in effigy?

Peggy's text message came to Sadie's phone just as she slipped into a seat near the back of the large lecture hall in Hartford Hall. As the main building for the philosophy, English, and political science departments, Sadie only stepped foot in Hartford Hall when she absolutely had to. Philosophy 2203 was the final class she needed to complete her thirty-five hours of core requirements, the base upon which her ultimate degree was built. To say that Sadie had been dreading spending three mornings of her week trapped in a lecture hall with two hundred underclassmen and the handful of humanities-averse upperclassmen was probably the understatement of her year. She literally couldn't imagine a worse hell on earth.

Fortunately, Hartford Hall had been recently renovated and each row of the large hall had been refurbished with long, continuous tables and comfortable rolling chairs. Sadie set her laptop on the table and tried to get comfortable, shooting an uneasy glance at her possibly tainted coffee. She grabbed her phone to text Peggy back.

It's a tempting idea, but no. I like to get my passive aggressive revenge in other ways, like never wearing the clothes she sends and eating non-gluten-free non-paleo chocolate chip cookies.

You're a regular rebel, you are.

Sadie grinned, putting her phone on silent and trading it for her planner, one of the only useful things her mother sent her in her care packages. Flipping open the cover of the white and gold striped book to the current day, Sadie reviewed the various notes she'd jotted down all of which were color-coded to satisfy her borderline pathological need for order. She had one other class and a lab later in the day and had a meeting with her advisor to review her schedule one last time.

Just as she began writing out a grocery list in the page's list for to-do items, a voice interrupted her.

"Hey, do you have a pen?"

Startlingly familiar, Sadie turned around to say yes and stopped short. It was him, the shady coffee guy from The Beanery, not ten minutes ago. He was standing in the mostly empty row behind her, grinning from ear to ear. With the exception of his cup of coffee, he didn't have a single other item on his body, no backpack on his shoulder, not even a notebook tucked under his arm. Without thinking, the first words that popped into Sadie's mind came tumbling out of her lips.

"What are you going to do? Doodle on the table all class long?"

Her eyes grew wide, stunned at her own snark. But his smile broadened while he sipped his coffee, not breaking his eye contact with her. God, he had the bluest eyes she had ever seen. "In that case, do you have a piece of paper I can borrow?"

Sadie shook her head in open astonishment before she slowly turned around, in complete disbelief and not even willing to dignify him with a response. Who was this guy? She'd run into plenty of slackers in her time, but he really took the cake. And then, he did something that almost sent her running for the door. He leaned across is table, holding his coffee out.

"Can you hold this for me?"

Too stunned to refuse his request, Sadie took his cup of coffee and watched, absolutely floored as he swung his long legs over his table and hopped down into her row. He plopped down into the seat next to her, still wearing his shit-eating grin. "I'm Bucky Barnes," he said and held his hand out.

Sadie, unsure if he wanted her to shake it or not, settled on shoving his coffee back at him. Bucky's shoulders shook in silent laughter, clearly pleased that he'd found such an easy target for his antics. "Do you still want that pen?" She asked acerbically, unsure of what else to say in the face of his shameless bravado.

"Nah," he replied, drawing out the word. "It's syllabus day. But I will take your name," he added as he raked his fingers through his shining chestnut hair.

Sadie wasn't sure if she wanted to give him any further ammunition. "I think I'm good without you knowing that," she said slowly, swiveling away from him and wondering how on earth she was going to explain this to her friends.

"After I gave you my coffee? That hardly seems fair."

"It's Sadie," she said, refusing to look at him. "And to be fair it should have been my coffee. Just because you're, you know, whatever, with the barista doesn't mean you should get special treatment."

"Sadie," he tried said, testing the weight of her name on his tongue. Avidly, Sadie wished his voice wasn't so smooth and pleasant to listen to. Her name sounded dangerously good coming out of his mouth. "Nice name. It suits you. And for the record, I don't think there's a rule that says you have to be served in order. People who buy regular coffee get served immediately. Maybe you should make the switch."

The tips of her fingers literally itched to smack the smirk right off his face. He leaned back in his chair, perfectly comfortable as he stretched his long legs in front of him. Bucky's jeans fit him obnoxiously well and Sadie even liked the beat up white converse tennis shoes he wore - it all seemed to fit his devil-may-care attitude.

"Well, they should make it a rule," she grumbled, wishing she hadn't taken that stupid cup of coffee.

The professor walked into the front of the lecture hall carrying a file box, which Sadie assumed held the syllabus and several other course documents. Ignoring Bucky, she opened her computer to a fresh Word document and waited for the professor to begin his lecture.

"Besides," said Bucky under his breath, leaning too close to Sadie for her comfort. Did this guy not know what a personal bubble was? "Connie isn't my, how did you so artfully put it? My you know, whatever anything. We're friends and she likes to give me free coffee. Is that a crime?"

"You do realize I don't know you and couldn't possibly care less whether you're whatever or anything or nothing with anyone, right?"

Bucky shrugged and Sadie dared to look at him out of the corner of her eye. "You seemed pretty concerned."

"I'm not," she snapped. "Will you please stop talking? I'd like to actually learn something." That was a bold-faced lie. Sadie would have to actively try to find even a single cell in her body that actually cared about philosophy. But Bucky didn't need to know that, else she might wind up having to listen to him for the rest of the class.

"From the syllabus?" He asked in a too-innocent voice. A furious flush swirled onto the back of Sadie's neck and into her cheeks. "So, Sadie. What is your major? Clearly it's not fine arts or humanities."

"What makes you think it's not?" She hissed.

"Because you've got that giant 'fuck off' stamp across your forehead that I usually see when I try to talk to engineering majors," he said casually holding his fingers up in a rectangle near her head for effect. Sadie's jaw dropped and then, against her will and better judgment, a smile pulled at her lips and she raised her fingers in a vain attempt to hide it. Bucky arched an eyebrow, one side of his mouth lifting in a smirk. "What?" He asked

She shook her head and returned her gaze to the front of the room as the professor began to speak, but not before leaving him with one parting shot. "You're kind of a dick."

Bucky coughed to muffle his laughter, but he never got the chance to speak again. Sadie spent most of class reviewing the syllabus, reading assignments, exam percentages, and other class requirements as the professor droned on. But, she was vaguely aware that Bucky spent the entire hour with his feet propped up on the empty chair on his other side, drinking his coffee and not glancing once at the syllabus. When the clock finally struck 9:20, Professor Bellgrave released them and Sadie packed her things, pointedly ignoring the fact that Bucky was still there.

As she slung her backpack onto her shoulders she looked up to see that he was neatly folding his syllabus into a small rectangle before shoving it into the back pocket of his jeans. "Same time Wednesday?" He asked, lazy amusement touching his words.

Sadie graced him with a humorless smirk. "How about no," she said before turning on her heel and leaving the classroom.

"Looking forward to it!" Bucky called after her.

Sadie didn't want to smile as she walked away, but she did all the same.

X X X

Sure enough, Sadie saw Bucky at The Beanery again on Wednesday morning and she was painfully aware that he followed her straight into Hartford Hall and plopped down next to her. At least he'd thought to bring a spiral notebook and a pen, though how he would ever deconstruct his sparse chicken scratch notes, Sadie would never know. He'd attempted conversation with her again, and she did her best to ignore him, answering only in one and two word sentences as much as possible. Sadie thought (perhaps foolishly) that if she ignored him, Bucky would get the memo that she didn't like him. Instead, Bucky found her behavior all the more entertaining and on Friday he continued his verbal barrage.

Nerves thoroughly raked raw, Sadie finally relented and shot a glance at him, immediately wishing she hadn't. That Friday he wore a light blue plaid shirt open over a light gray V-neck t-shirt, the point drug down by his wayfarer sunglasses hanging down from the collar.

"What the hell kind of a name is Bucky anyway?" She'd asked, earning his snort of amused laughter.

"It's a nickname," he said as though it were plainly obvious.

"I'd gotten that far, oddly enough," drawled Sadie while she scrolled through Wednesday's notes to get to a new page. "A nickname for what?"

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," he teased lightly, unwilling to let her have the upper hand.

Sadie rolled her eyes and thought better of ignoring him, as she already knew it would do little to no good. "Sarah Grace Reid," she relented at length.

"Why call yourself Sadie? Sarah Grace is a nice name."," said Bucky.

Sadie arched an eyebrow and peered at him through the lenses of her reading glasses, which made him look slightly distorted, much to her amusement. "My dad just started calling me Sadie one day and it stuck," she said, refusing to divulge any more than that.

"Well, Sarah Grace," he said emphatically and Sadie got the distinct impression that telling him not to call her that would only encourage him to do the total opposite. "Since you so bluntly asked, my name is James Buchanan Barnes. But I've been Bucky my whole life."

Sadie spluttered at him. Bluntly asked? Had he not spent all of Wednesday trying to wheedle her major out of her? Asking how many different pens she used to color code her planner? Wondering aloud if she was actually going to do all of the assigned reading? Scowling, Sadie had done her best to let the conversation end after that, internally grumbling that his first name was James. She loved that name.

The final straw for Sadie came when he picked up her copy of The Metaphysics of Healing, where she'd set off the assigned reading section with colored paper clips along with the upcoming reading. A few colored tabs stuck out at odd intervals, perfectly straight with the edge of the book. Against her protests, he'd flipped open the book to discover her meticulous highlighting and notes jotted in the margins.

"Holy shit," he'd said, stunned. "You're one of those students aren't you?"

"I don't know what you mean," she snapped, snatching the book back.

"Oh my God you are," he said in a hushed and rushed voice, holding his fist over his mouth to hide his sheer delight. "You know I'd heard of people like you but I thought you were myths, like unicorns and light beer that doesn't taste like shit. I bet you color code every class and you review your notes after every one."

Sadie could feel the furious blush swirl into her cheeks and she stammered incoherently, but it was far too late. Damn him to the very depths of hell, because Bucky had gotten her spot-on. "How I study is none of your business," she snarled at him.

But Bucky's euphoria could not be contained. "Have you ever gotten anything below an A-minus in your life? Please, please tell me you aren't one of those students who argues with their professor over every missed point on an exam."

Instead of responding, Sadie grabbed her stuff and moved two seats down the row from him, fuming the entire time. For the entire rest of the class she had a difficult time concentrating as Bucky turned his chair to face hers, feet up on the table while he grinned wickedly at her the entire time. She had never hated someone as much as she hated Bucky in that moment.

X X X

By the time Friday night rolled around, Sadie did something she rarely ever did. She stormed into her apartment and woke Peggy up from her nap. Peggy, the human embodiment of an English Rose, raised her head groggily from the couch, chocolate brown curls spilling over her shoulder.

"What?" She asked, British accent thicker from sleep.

"How do you feel about Thai food and drinks at The Eighteenth?"

That got Peggy's attention. The London native had a particular affinity for Thai food and never turned down the opportunity when presented. She nodded as she sat up, yawning. "Rough week?"

"I don't even know where to start," said Sadie as she dropped her backpack on the floor at the foot of her bed and stripped off her t-shirt and running shorts. Padding into the bathroom, she turned the shower on and peeled the headband off her head before pulling her hair out of its messy bun. Peggy wisely chose not to ask and instead got up to get ready, texting Evie and Betty as she did.

After dinner as Taste of Thailand, Peggy and Sadie went to The Eighteenth, their favorite bar on Ninth Street, the bar district closest to campus. By the time they wound their way to a high top table on the rooftop patio, Sadie's mood had improved considerably. She managed to eat away the worst of her week with Pad See-Ew and listening to Peggy talk animatedly about her classes and the gossip she'd picked up from her end of campus. An International Relations and Political Science double major, Peggy was headed for an ivy league law school next fall, and then probably to take over the planet.

At length they talked about two of Sadie's primary irritations, the first being that her Analytical Chemistry professor was a man by the name of Zola, an insufferable human being who loved the sound of his own voice almost as much as he loved tenure. Their conversation then turned to Sadie's pending early decision application with Columbia Medical School, and her advisor's well-meaning advice that Sadie should develop multiple backup plans should the worst happen come October. Somewhere in the back of Sadie's mind she knew that there was a chance she would get rejected by Columbia and she would be scrambling to complete applications to the rest of the schools at the top of her list. But having someone actually verbally confirm this reality was a different thing altogether.

Sadie planned and she planned and she planned, but she'd never not gotten something she really wanted. She had no idea how she would actually take that rejection if and when it happened.

Peggy, sensing her friend was on the verge of an academic meltdown, effortlessly steered the conversation down a new avenue. "So, what else? I know that Professor Zola and your Columbia application aren't enough for you to be this bent out of shape."

"Oh God! I've been meaning to tell you since yesterday! Do you remember that jerk I was telling you about in my philosophy class?" Sadie was about to launch into the full story when two girls appeared out of the crowd, each carrying three drinks in their hands.

"Hey!" Said Betty Carnahan, carefully setting her drinks down and sliding one of them over to Sadie.

Arching an eyebrow, Sadie looked at her gin and tonic and then at the fresh one. "What's this for?"

"Bar's a madhouse," said Evie Lewis, passing a class of Chardonnay to Peggy. "Better to get drinks two at a time rather than wait."

Peggy nodded in agreement. "Thanks! Though I doubt you'd ever have a problem getting a bartender's attention," she said, looking pointedly at the mint green dress Betty wore, the neckline plunging between her breasts.

Betty flashed her friend a smile and sat down, crossing one tanned leg over the other. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean," she said even as she looked around imperiously for her next target. Evie shot Sadie a long-suffering look and shook her head as if to say, "it's been like this all night."

Sadie met Evie and Betty on move-in day freshman year. The three girls all shared a suite with a fourth girl who made Sadie look downright rebellious. Bonding over their similar sarcastic senses of humor and their mutual confusion over Sadie's nearly silent, hermit roommate, the three formed an instant friendship. Evie and Betty had even convinced Sadie to rush a sorority with them, which lasted a grand total of a semester before Sadie gracefully bowed out, unable to handle the extra rules, date parties, matching t-shirts, and singing. Fortunately, her friendship with Evie and Betty had remained strong for three years.

They'd met then-exchange student Peggy Carter at the beginning of sophomore year. The quartet of girls became inseparable for the remainder of the school year, but Sadie and Peggy were especially close. She'd even gone to London with Peggy for most of the summer before junior year. Once Peggy came to Rhodes State University, she simply decided to stay, setting her sights on Harvard Law and an eventual job running the world on Capitol Hill. Evie and Betty lived in a house with two of their sorority sisters while Sadie and Peggy were going on their second year as roommates.

"Okay! Okay! Now that we're all finally together, our first topic of conversation is this coming summer!" Evie announced over the chatter of her friends and din of the patio.

As one, Sadie, Peggy, and Betty groaned. "Evie, we literally started school on Monday, I think the summer can wait!" Betty said, laughing as Evie tried to clap a hand over her mouth and over Sadie's to shut them up.

"No! We're talking about a three month backpacking trip through Europe! If we don't start planning now then we'll put it off and off and then either we'll scramble to do it last minute or worse - we'll never go."

Sadie batted Evie's hand away. "Come on! Even I'm not worried about that trip and I'm the most uptight person you know."

"She's not wrong, the last time we flew she insisted we get to the airport three hours early," said Peggy, winking at Sadie.

But Evie could not be dissuaded. "Betty and I are staying here to get our masters and I cannot in good conscience send you off to law school," she said loudly over Peggy, pointing at her friend. "And you off to med school," she pointed to Sadie. "Next fall without one last hurrah!"

That shut everyone up. All four girls stared at each other over their drinks, recognizing that this was, indeed, their last year all together at the same place. Sadie bit her lower lip and grasped her drink. In the chaos of the week, Sadie had really forgotten that this was their senior year, and suddenly her lungs tightened along with her heart. Peggy seemed to feel the same way as she raised her glass.

"Well, then here's to one last hurrah," she said.

"Cheers to that!" Sadie cried and the other girls followed suit.

Their conversation rapidly devolved into a spirited argument over the unplanned particulars of their trip: where to start, where to go, where to end, and everything in-between. They'd only gotten started on hostels vs. hotels vs. home rentals when Peggy completely stopped paying attention to all of them. Instead, she bit her lip as her brown eyes began following a figure in the crowd. Sadie leaned over to get in her line of sight, and almost immediately she spotted the object of Peggy's attention.

Although the exact date of their meeting was a hotly debated topic, Peggy's open attraction to and fascination with Steve Rogers was one of the worst kept secrets on the planet. As Sadie watched the man in question cut through the crowd to join his friends at another high top, she didn't have a hard time seeing why Peggy liked Steve so much. Tall, blonde, and stupidly handsome, Steve also happened to be literally the nicest person Sadie had ever met.

"Captain Perfect's back this year?" She asked and upon hearing the tagline 'Captain' Evie and Betty not-so-subtly rotated on their bar stools to see. Peggy, now mortified, clapped a hand over her face, muttering something about needing new friends under her breath.

"Yes, he's working on his masters in history," she said. Sadie nodded, mildly impressed.

"Have you talked to him yet?" She asked.

Peggy shook her head, but grabbed her phone to check her reflection on the shining screen. "Maybe I should now? It looks like he's with friends, though. I'd hate to interrupt him."

Sadie gave Peggy a nudge. "Go," she said in an encouraging voice. "You're friends, right? I'm sure he'd love to see you."

What Sadie didn't say was that Steve would probably be thrilled to see Peggy. Though she'd only met him twice in the library with Peggy towards the end of last year, it couldn't have been more obvious that Steve returned Peggy's feelings. Why he hadn't done anything about it, however, remained to be seen.

"I don't know," said Peggy, showing a rare moment of insecurity.

"Seriously, if you don't go over there and talk to him, I'll make Betty drag you over there and I think we both know how that'll end."

That was motivation enough for Peggy who almost immediately got to her feet. "Fair enough!" She chirped and, clutching her glass of wine, started weaving her way towards Steve Rogers. Through gaps in the crowd, Sadie could see the way recognition turned into sheer delight on Steve's face as Peggy came into his line of sight.

"Sadie Reid, amateur matchmaker. Who knew?" said Evie in a teasing voice.

Pointedly ignoring Evie's jibe, Sadie took stock of their dwindling drinks. "I'll go get the next round," she said and slid off her bar stool.

Frequent patrons of The Eighteenth knew that when the weather was nice, the downstairs bar was usually less crowded. As Sadie came downstairs, she found the bar still busy, but far less packed than the upper deck. A few familiar faces stuck out in the crowd and she returned friendly waves and smiles as she worked her way to the bar, eventually getting a spot against the lacquered surface.

For a glorious thirty seconds, Sadie was able to wait for the bartender in peace.

Then, she heard a deep chuckle that she immediately knew belonged to a familiar and unwelcome presence. "I'll be honest, I didn't even think you knew where Ninth Street was."

Sadie lifted her grey eyes to find Bucky Barnes sliding in to stand next to her. He tipped his sunglasses off his eyes, pushing them to the top of his head. The top three buttons of his pale blue shirt were undone, revealing a sliver of his chest and his hair would be a mess without his sunglasses keeping it at bay. Uncaring that she could see exactly what he was doing, Bucky's eyes flickered from the sheets of her straight hair, down her body, taking in the length of her legs, exposed by the shorts she wore with flat sandals.

Sighing in disgust, Sadie tried to angle her body away from his so she could try and catch the bartender's attention faster.

"You're not even going to talk to me? Now that hurts," he said lightly.

"I don't know, can I if it's not written down in my perfect planner?" She shot at him, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Bucky, undeterred by her blatant dislike, kept plowing on. "I probably deserved that," he said. "But you have to admit, you're unnervingly organized."

What was wrong with that? "I like being organized," she said loudly over the music.

The heat from his body seared through her skin, bared by the loose tank top she wore. "So what you're saying is you aren't impulsive," he countered.

"What? That's not true!" She argued back, sucked into looking at him again. "Just because I like order doesn't mean I don't know how to have fun or can't be spontaneous."

Bucky shrugged, looking thoroughly unconvinced. "You're not an impulsive person, that's fine. Nothing wrong with it."

"Oh please, what would you even know? You've talked to me for a grand total of like thirty minutes."

Now Bucky looked away from her, signaling the bartender. "I'm good at reading people," he said simply. "And you're an open book."

Sadie began to wonder just how many times Bucky was going to stun her to silence over the course of their knowing each other. In arguments, as in all aspects of her life, Sadie hated being wrong. More than that, it turned out she hated being bested by Bucky and she couldn't abide the way he was looking at her in that moment, as though he had her all figured out and had her exactly where he wanted her. Chafing beneath his gaze, she squirmed and tried to put more distance between them.

"You don't know anything about me," she countered.

"I know more than you think. You hate philosophy and take notes so structured that you have to be a science major; there's no way you can keep all those numbers and equations in chemistry straight without good note taking. Even for classes you hate you read and pay attention, so I'm guessing you actually haven't made anything less than a B your entire life. You probably already know exactly where you want to be this time next year, what you want to do with your life, and where you want to be ten years from now. If I had to wager a guess, you don't have a boyfriend because all the guys smart enough to keep up with you are too focused on their own careers to date either and every other guy is too stupid to look past the aforementioned stamp on your forehead to even try. But you already know that because you're probably easily the smartest girl in the room at any given time and you don't bother to hide it. If you really cared you'd be like the other hair-twirlers in here. And even though you're a shoo-in for whatever grad school you're going to conquer, you won't take risks because of the miniscule chance it'll ruin your perfect plan, probably one you put together with your doting, overbearing parents who will take nine thousand pictures at graduation. In fact, I bet you're a total daddy's girl, striving for perfection just to please some unrealistic expectation you've set for yourself just so you can give your future kids the same white-picket fence life you had."

Sadie stared at him slack-jawed. At once, a familiar needling sensation began to prickle at the brittle, raw edges of her heart. Without thinking about it, her hand flew to the silver chain that hung around her neck, from which hung a single golden ring. There were many lines that Bucky had crossed in his arrogant, cocksure speech, but he'd ended on a particularly damning note.

"Well?" Asked Bucky as he took the beer that the bartender handed him. "Am I right or am I right?"

Sadie gathered up her three drinks. Each breath she took hurt, her lungs pressing in on old but unhealed wounds. "You're a regular Sherlock Holmes," she said distantly, too stunned by his out-of-line assessment to be really angry with him. Anger would come later, when she was safely sitting on Peggy's bed, drowning her sorrows in a pint of triple fudge brownie ice cream. But as she tried to get away from Bucky, a realization dawned on her. "That psych degree you're working towards must come in real handy when you're actually trying to pick up girls," she said and left without another word.

X X X

Bucky knew he'd said something horribly, terribly bad the very second he looked back to Sadie. He'd expected her dumbfounded reaction, even her indignant shouting that he was completely wrong, though he never was. But the way she'd stared at him, as though he'd forcefully opened her chest cavity and pummeled her heart was something he'd never seen before. Reflected in Sadie's mercurial eyes, the emotions ran deep, telling Bucky that he hadn't just crossed a line, he'd jumped the damn Grand Canyon.

And while he waited for Steve to rejoin him back at the bar, Bucky realized that he'd actually been truly awful. He barely knew Sadie Reid, the sharp-witted brunette from his philosophy class, but he'd thoroughly enjoyed their verbal sparring sessions since their first meeting. But, as he was prone to do, Buck had taken it one step too far and completely fucked it up.

Wasn't Steve always telling him, don't go too far? Don't push too hard?

Bucky was pretty certain he'd gone and thrown any chance he had at even being Sadie's friend right over the side of a cliff.

Staring moodily into his beer, Bucky went back through his words, trying to figure out where he'd gone wrong. As it turned out, there were too many missteps to really count. A hand fell heavy on his shoulder.

"What's gotten into you? When I left you were eyeing the redhead at the end of the bar." Steve Rogers said as he took the spot where Sadie recently stood.

Steve pursed his lips together, a knowing light flashing in his eyes. "What did you do?"

The accusation hung heavy in Steve's voice. That was the problem with having the same best friend for almost twenty-three years. Where Bucky could hide from the rest of the world behind a veneer of sarcasm and apathy, he was an open book in Steve's hands. Even the slightest deviation from his normal carefree self would tip Steve off that something was wrong. Bucky rolled his eyes and grumbled out a reply. "What makes you think I did anything?"

"Well, for one thing you look like you're about to go swimming in your beer and for another you're not talking to that redhead, even though she hasn't stopped staring at you since I got back."

Flicking his blue eyes down the length of the crowded bar, Bucky settled on a pretty girl with fiery red hair. Steve was right, she was staring at him and didn't even bother to avert her eyes in embarrassment at having been caught. Instead she gave him a toothy smile and pushed her long curls behind her shoulders to reveal the low cut of her tank top, an invitation if Bucky ever saw one.

"Nah, not interested," Bucky mumbled. Steve's eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline. Both men knew that on a normal night Bucky would be glued to the girl's side, whispering in her ear as he bought her drinks and offered her a ride on his motorcycle back to his house.

More than one reason kept his feet firmly rooted to the floor, but Bucky wasn't about to have that conversation with Steve again.

"Oh come on, Buck. It can't be that bad."

Famous last words, Bucky thought grimly.

Trying to dismiss Steve's curiosity got him nowhere. Finally, after a moment's worth of Steve's poking and prodding, Bucky finally gave in. "It's that girl from philosophy, the one I was telling you about. She was just down here and I might have taken things a little bit too far," he admitted, keeping his blue eyes firmly locked on his beer.

"What did you say?"

"That's just it, I don't know! She's pretty uptight and I've been joking around all week about how she's a perfectionist and not spontaneous at all. But she came down here and she's just so frustrating so I thought I'd try to get her to loosen up and I did the whole bit where I tell her that I know more about her than she thinks I do." As Bucky spoke Steve clapped a hand over his face, groaning into his palm. "Obviously I said something wrong because she was definitely mad."

Bucky sighed. Sadie's near-instant and obvious distaste for him aside, Bucky thought things were going pretty well between them. Beneath her prickly nature, Sadie possessed sharp wit and she wasn't even remotely afraid to use it. Bucky particularly enjoyed her dismissive treatment, sparking an emotion he hadn't felt towards a girl in a long time: curiosity.

Curiosity drove him to get out of bed an extra ten minutes early on Wednesday and Friday morning just to see her at The Beanery and then again in class. Bucky wanted to know more about Sadie, but he learned quickly that he couldn't flirt his way into her good graces. So, Bucky went a different route to get her attention and it had blown up in his face quite spectacularly.

"Well that's a tough break, but there are plenty of other fish in the sea." Bucky snorted into his beer. Every so often, Steve did or said something that caused Bucky to wonder if his best friend was actually from a different century. "What was her name?"

"Sadie," said Bucky, sliding his empty pint glass across the bar. "Sadie Reid."

Bucky did not see Steve choke in surprise on his own drink at the mention of Peggy Carter's roommate.

X X X

"Scoot over," said Peggy as she came into her room, carrying a pint of ice cream and two spoons. Sadie grinned and moved to the left on Peggy's daybed, leaning her back against the wrought iron frame. Sitting cross-legged in a pair of old running shorts and long-sleeved shirt, she happily took the ice cream and spoons so Peggy could settle next to her friend.

The clock on Peggy's bedside table read twelve-forty in the morning. Sadie knew she should be in bed, but the prospect of ice cream and an evening recap was too good to pass up.

"Forget booze, this is what I needed," said Sadie, pushing the tip of her spoon deep into the pint of double fudge brownie.

"Amen," agreed Peggy, following Sadie's example. For a few moments, both girls sat in easy silence, piecing together their night. After Sadie had returned to the rooftop looking quite disgruntled, Evie and Betty insisted they all move on to a different bar. Sadie happily followed her friends out of The Eighteenth, blissfully unaware that a sharp pair of blue eyes watched her walk out the door.

From there they'd gone to Grimsby's, another popular undergrad bar famous for its sports themed shots and nightly specials. Peggy and Sadie amused themselves by watching Evie and Betty descend deeper and deeper into a drunken stupor that would inevitably lead to more pathetic morning-after hangover texts. A little after midnight Sadie drove everyone home, all while stewing over Bucky Barnes and his unbelievable, but almost entirely true, assessment of her. When Peggy finally dared to bring the conversation topic back to the jerk in question, Sadie dropped her head against the wall, cursing at the ceiling.

"He's the fucking worst! He's presumptuous and arrogant and thinks that he can say whatever he wants to complete strangers," Sadie complained adding to her already lengthy list of grievances against Bucky.

Peggy passed the pint back to Sadie. A thoughtful expression pinched her face and she pursed her lips over her spoon. Sadie drew one of her knees up to her chest and took another large bite of ice cream while she waited for Peggy to put her thoughts together.

"I can't believe he stood there and gave you a whole speech about yourself."

"Me either."

"I suppose he thought it'd be charming, showing off how much he notices about you and the details he picks up. Although I have to say it backfired quite spectacularly," Peggy mused.

"That's the understatement of the year," muttered Sadie. Absently, she swept her fishtail braid over her shoulder and began toying with the end, examining her split ends. Even now she could clearly picture Bucky leaning against the bar without a care in the world. With a forearm resting on the bar top, he exuded a confidence that Sadie would never understand or possess, as though he owned the place. She recalled the way wore his sleeves rolled over his forearms and the way his hair fell at graceful angles to frame his face. Had he ever even been treated negatively by a girl? Somehow Sadie figured the answer was a resounding "no."

"Still, good for you for walking away. I'dve probably gotten into a fight with him. Which is probably what he wanted you to do, now that I think about it."

Sadie coughed on her bite of ice cream. "Why on earth would he want me to fight with him?"

"Did it not occur to you that the reason he's being such a prat is because he's trying to get your attention?" Peggy asked, too reasonable for her own good.

The thought hadn't occurred to Sadie, because it seemed too outlandish. "Uh no," she said bluntly. "And besides, the last time I checked we're not in the third grade, so it's not cool to be mean to the girl you secretly like."

Peggy smiled, tapping the end of her spoon against her nose. "Actually, sometimes college is remarkably similar to primary school. In any event, I think you're wrong. He wouldn't go out of his way to pay any sort of attention you if he wasn't at least curious."

"Yeah, well, he can take his curiosity and shove it."

Peggy burst into laughter. "You should really embroider that on a pillow," she said, earning a bout of laughter from Sadie.

Sighing, Sadie leaned over, dropping her head on Peggy's shoulder. "He took a shot at my dad and it felt like he'd opened up all these old wounds that just healed."

Peggy wrapped her arm around Sadie's shoulder, hugging her. "I know and even I admit that was a low blow. But it's been almost two years, I thought you were doing better?"

Sadie shrugged. "I am. But that doesn't mean it hurts any less."

"It'll get better. And although I'm certainly not taking his side, you can't really blame him for that. It's not as though he knows."

Sadie knew her friend was right. Bucky was a lot of things, but he didn't strike her as cruel. Though his words were poorly chosen, he hadn't said them to be malicious. Sadie couldn't fault Bucky for not knowing all the facts. Despite his begrudgingly impressive display of perception, he still knew next to nothing about her.

At length, Peggy left her room to return the ice cream to the freezer. Sadie was already in her own bedroom, tossing her long-sleeved shirt into her laundry hamper and adjusting her sports bra. She had just pulled the covers back on her bed when Peggy paused to lean against her doorframe, a small grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Is he attractive?" Peggy enquired, too innocent for her own good.

Sadie didn't even want to admit she'd considered Bucky in that light for even a second. Still, his piercing blue eyes were hard to ignore. If Sadie had to hazard a guess, Bucky Barnes had never once starved for female company. The admission slipped from her tongue before she could stop herself. "He's gorgeous."

Peggy's grin widened, as though confirming her own suspicion. "What's his name?"

Sadie turned away to set her phone on her bedside table as she spoke. "Bucky Barnes."

Behind her friend's back Peggy turned a funny shade of red and clapped a hand over her mouth to hide her smile.

X X X

Anderson Levitt Library stood in the dead center of campus. A monolith of white stone and roman-inspired columns, the library was a beacon for the studious and generally curious. Peggy Carter happened to be both and as such, the library was her favorite place on campus. She went there between and after classes, wrote her papers and crammed for finals in the quiet study carrels. But her preferred spot was in the basement level, in the history stacks.

That was where she first met Steve Rogers. Unable to find a single empty table during the midterms season last spring, Peggy wandered into the basement level where the tables were all full with the exception of one side of an otherwise occupied spot. With no other options, Peggy had approached the table and came to a grinding halt when its resident lifted his head and graced her with a handsome, blinding white smile. Steve offered her the open side of his table before Peggy could even open her mouth.

Back then, Steve had been a senior and couldn't have been more unassumingly charming if he tried. Completely unaware of the effect he had on women, Steve was unfailingly kind. He'd even bought Peggy a cup of coffee when he'd taken a study break that first day. Ever since they'd slowly developed a friendship based on their mutual love of history, shared political views, and similar sense of humor.

On a Thursday afternoon, three weeks into the new semester, Peggy strolled into the library. Carrying two cups of coffee, she wound her way down the stairs and into the basement level. The open stairwell revealed three columns of tables, running alongside the stacks. Near the end of the far left column, a blonde man sat pouring over several open books. Steve Rogers was now pursuing his Masters in history and practically lived in the library.

Steve tore his eyes away from his textbooks only after Peggy said his name. "Heya, Peg!"

It took a considerable amount of Peggy's abundant willpower to not swoon. Long ago she'd decided it was a good thing Steve had no clue how handsome he was. Instead of exchanging bland pleasantries, she set his coffee down in one of the free spaces between his books and plunked down opposite him.

"Did you know that my roommate hates your roommate?"

For the past two weeks, Peggy tried to keep this information to herself. Sadie would have her head if she knew and Peggy hated being on the receiving end of Sadie's ire. But after enduring a near-daily rant about how obnoxious Bucky Barnes was, Peggy decided enough was enough. So, Sadie's temper be damned, Peggy was going to do something about the whole fiasco.

Steve leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Hate's an awfully strong word," he mused, humor dancing in his eyes. "What if we went with strongly dislikes?"

"Does the label really matter?" Peggy asked, arching a perfectly manicured eyebrow. "For the last three weeks your roommate has been driving Sadie up the wall in philosophy, first by teasing her and then by passing her notes and this week he's started bringing her coffee to class."

Steve ruffled his hair and, recognizing that Peggy wasn't going to let him get any studying finished, shut his books. "I like how when he's being normal he's just Bucky but when he's behaving badly he's my roommate."

Peggy shrugged, eyeing Steve carefully over the top of her coffee cup. "Is he planning on changing his tactic weekly?"

"You know I think we should just be grateful he's going to class, even if it's just to flirt with Sadie."

"So he does like her," Peggy surmised.

In all of Sadie's long-winded rants concerning Bucky, Peggy noticed a common thread. It seemed that the long-haired fifth-year senior was trying to get her attention in any way possible. He came off almost desperate to have Sadie notice him, which begged the all-important question of whether Bucky's curiosity extended past friendship.

"I haven't asked him."

Therein lay Steve Roger's one major defect. The man couldn't talk about personal feelings if someone held a gun to his head. For months now, Peggy had been subtly trying to get Steve to openly return her obvious affection. Steve, however, remained either oblivious or obstinate and she couldn't decide which was worse. Bucky Barnes on the other hand, had zero qualms with blatantly flirting for attention or outright telling a girl when he was interested.

Peggy realized early on that, while his many admirers thought differently, the rakishly handsome Bucky was something of an acquired taste to the people who really knew him. If Steve was the personification of the ideal student, then Bucky was his equally attractive opposite. The one time Peggy asked Bucky about his plans to graduate, he'd casually tucked his hair away from his face, stating that he was going to take a victory lap. Sure enough, Bucky was now a fifth-year senior and perfectly unconcerned by it.

Steve often lamented at Bucky's inability to take anything seriously. His flippant attitude towards everything from school to his love life befuddled Peggy at every turn. It was plain as day that Bucky was just as intelligent as his friends, though in a vastly different way. Observant to a fault and highly attuned to other's emotions, Bucky often found himself pushing people out of their comfort zones. Sometimes he pushed too hard, which is how he'd wound up on Sadie's bad side.

"It's just a shame they got off to such a bad start," said Peggy delicately. "I think they'd be friends if things were different."

Her attempt at threading the needle crumbled as Steve tried his best not to chuckle. "You know you can't force people to be friends, or whatever you have in mind. Bucky and Sadie are the last people on the planet who would willingly let you set them up with anyone, much less each other."

"I don't want to set them up so much as encourage them to get along. After all, wouldn't things be so much better if our roommates got along?"

Thankfully, Steve didn't pry too much into her musings, otherwise her argument might fall apart at the seams. There was no real reason that Sadie and Bucky had to get along for the sake of their friendship. In fact, despite Peggy's friendship with both men, Sadie hadn't actually met Bucky until the start of the school year.

"Well, what did you have in mind?"

Peggy clapped her hands together in delight, much to the annoyance of nearby students. "Let's all go out for a drink. I'll bring Sadie and tell her that it's just us. Then Bucky can show up a little later when it's too late for her to make an exit."

Chuckling, Steve nodded. "Sounds like you've got this all planned out."

Oh, Steve had no idea, thought Peggy. "Saturday night, nine o'clock at Stems wine bar. Don't be late!"

X X X

Stems was a wine bar tucked just away from the main bars on Ninth Street. It was often frequented by the town's young professionals and older law students who preferred to pontificate on the Constitution away from the debauchery of the undergrads. Sadie had only been once with Betty who all but dragged her there so she could try and score a drink out of a young adjunct professor who taught French literature. Much to Sadie's displeasure, most of the night was spent watching Betty preen and show off, all while both women secretly wondered why Betty hadn't taken Evie instead.

To say that Sadie was dreading another night surrounded by the town's most insufferable intellectual elitists was an understatement. As she pulled down the skirt of the dress Peggy all but forced her in, Sadie wondered if it was worth kicking off her high heels and making a break for it. Surreptitiously, she checked her rose gold watch. If she sprinted she could catch the nine-fifteen bus back to campus and catch another to her apartment.

"Oh for God's sake would you stop fidgeting? It's a dress not a straight jacket," said Peggy as she walked confidently next to Sadie, perfectly at ease in her dainty ankle strap stilettos.

"Yeah, straight jackets have more material," muttered Sadie under her breath. In all reality the dress wasn't even that short. The running shorts she typically wore to class were much shorter. But running shorts didn't present the possibility of accidentally flashing the whole bar, something which Sadie would rather avoid.

Peggy snorted in unamused laughter. "Come on, you drink wine! I know, I've seen you do it. We'll just stop off for a couple of drinks and if it's boring we'll leave."

Sadie sighed, but nodded and smoothed over the emerald green fitted dress. The cool night breeze felt strange against her lower back, bared by the triangular shaped cutout of the dress. It hadn't been her first choice, but it was certainly better than several of the other options Peggy managed to dig up from her closet and then Sadie's. Sadie was fairly certain the dress was a gift from her mother, sent in a care package along with copies of Southern Living, new tubes of lipstick, and gluten-free lemon drop cookies. Peggy had expressed her dismay that the tags were still on the Ted Baker creation and threatened to strip Sadie and shove her into the dress if she had to.

Complying with her headstrong friend was safer than taking the risk that Peggy would actually do it. And now, Sadie found herself sweeping her loose waves over her shoulder and praying to God or anyone who would listen for the night to end quickly. Already the balls of her feet hurt, as she didn't wear high heels very often.

They walked up the set of three stairs that opened onto the front patio of Stems. Most of the patio tables and cushy chairs were filled with more hipsters than Sadie could count, likely talking about the tannins in their glasses of malbec. A smirk pulled at the corners of her mouth, but it immediately slipped off her face as soon as she and Peggy walked through the door.

Sitting at the bar looking very handsome and very much alone was Steve Rogers, graduate student extraordinaire.

"You have got to be kidding me," hissed Sadie, grabbing Peggy's wrist and spinning the girl around before Steve caught sight of them. Peggy's doe brown eyes widened and a far-too innocent expression took her porcelain face. "Don't even," Sadie warned. "You forced me to come here so you could meet Captain Fantastic over there?"

Casting an appraising glance over her shoulder, Peggy tilted her head to the side. "Is Fantastic really the best word? He's more of a Captain Delectable, wouldn't you agree?"

Sadie pinched the bridge of her nose. There was not enough wine in the entire bar to lessen her discomfort and irritation. "So not the point, Peg. Why didn't you tell me the whole point of this exercise was for you to work your way into the pants of a man who probably wouldn't even know what to do once you got there?"

"Because I knew you wouldn't come if I told you the truth," said Peggy reasonedably.

Well, Sadie couldn't argue with that. And it was far too late to try and weasel her way out as Steve's glance caught both women and his face broke into a smile that would make any woman weak in the knees. Even Sadie's heart tripped over a beat. "Besides, who cares if he doesn't know what to do. He seems like a fast learner."

The tension broke and Sadie clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter. With her shoulders thrown back and head held high, Peggy put on her best dazzling smile and led the way to Steve Rogers who had gallantly laid his jacket across a second bar stool as he clambered to his feet.

As they drew closer, Sadie decided he was the dictionary definition of 'American as apple pie.' From the top of his perfect blonde head all the way down to his khaki pants, he was the epitome of clean cut. Sadie suspected that he had gone so far as to iron his blue and white gingham button down before leaving with plenty of time to park and be at the bar ten minutes early. With some measure of self-disparagement, Sadie realized that Steve probably agonized more over what to wear than she had. And to be honest, she wasn't totally sure what that said about either of them.

"Hi Peggy," said Steve as they drew into earshot. "Hi Sadie, glad you could make it."

But as he ordered their first round, it became very apparent to Sadie that she was destined to be a third wheel. Despite Steve and Peggy both making conscious efforts to keep Sadie included in the conversation, it could not have been more plain that Sadie was just the officiate to their first unofficial date. The entire affair was something of a surprise to Sadie. She'd grown accustomed to blunt, no-nonsense Peggy. But the girl talking to Steve was dangerously close to melting faster than ice cream on a hot afternoon, basking under the blinding glow of Steve's blatant affection. It was a little too adorable for Sadie's taste, but Peggy couldn't seem to get enough of perfect Steve Rogers and the perfect creases on his spotless khakis.

"I'm really sorry, Sadie. I invited one of my friends to join us, but it looks like he's running late," said Steve at a break in the conversation.

Sadie, who had been examining the wine list looked up with raised eyebrows. "Oh, it's fine," she stumbled over her words.

Peggy looked at their cramped situation. Steve, the consummate gentleman, immediately offered his seat to Peggy and insisted that Sadie take the other. But the bar was beginning to crowd and there wouldn't be much room for a fourth person. "There's a table just over there. Perhaps we should take it?"

Peggy's suggestion prompted the trio to remove to the high top table where Sadie could at least while away the time staring out the windows. A litany of excuses rattled around in her head as to why she had to make a sudden disappearance. If Betty and Evie weren't likely already halfway to wasted at Mugsy's, Sadie would have them fake an emergency to get her out of the whole debacle. Even then, Peggy would see right through her escape attempt and then she'd never hear the end of it from her roommate.

Sadie was about to ask who Steve's friend was when she caught sight of the last person she wanted to see jogging up the stairs. Bucky Barnes swung the keys looping his finger into the palm of his hand, shoving them into the pocket of his jeans as he entered the wine bar. He raked his fingers through his haphazard hair as he drew into the main space, blue eyes flickering through the crowd.

"Oh Jesus Christ, what is he doing here?" Sadie whispered, turning her head away from him. Peggy frowned and leaned over to Sadie.

"What's wrong?"

"That's him!" Sadie whispered. "The jackass from the coffee shop and philosophy!"

Peggy's jaw dropped just as Steve bellowed the last name Sadie ever expected to hear. "Bucky!"

And as Bucky Barnes started making his way towards the table, Sadie began looking for anything she could use to create a medical emergency. Maybe if she choked on something or fell off her barstool and broke her ankle? Either option sounded better than having to come face-to-face with the last person she wanted to see.

At the same time a rather large question kept repeating itself over and over in her head. How in the hell were Captain Perfect and Bucky 'nine-times-out-of-ten-I'm-too-hung-over-to-function' Barnes friends? Whatever the answer was, Sadie didn't have time to figure it out. Bucky altered his course, grinning broadly as Peggy and Sadie came into view.

"Sorry I'm late," he said and sat in the last remaining bar stool at their table. "I got stuck on the phone."

"Not a problem," Steve assured and gestured to the two girls. "Bucky, you remember Peggy Carter? And I think you've met Sadie Reid?"

Bucky turned the full force of his smile on Peggy and Sadie. "Ladies," he said, as though that were enough to constitute a greeting. "Do we have a waiter? Or should I hit the bar?"

"Actually I'll get the next round," said Peggy, getting to her feet abruptly. Sadie's mouth fell open in abject horror as Steve lurched to his feet, exclaiming that he would help her. Suddenly, in the span of a minute, Sadie had gone from being the somewhat uncomfortable third wheel on a first date to being set up on an impromptu date of her own; with the current bane of her existence no less.

X X X

When Bucky got home he was going to give Steve a hearty pat on the back and then punch him in his perfect face. It was the only way he could think of to properly thank his friend for orchestrating a second chance with Sadie and doing it in the worst way humanly imaginable. Sadie sat next to him in frosty silence, tapping her short fingernails against the narrow stem of her wineglass. Bucky had a hard time taking his eyes off of her, especially in that green dress. He'd only caught a glimpse of her long legs before sitting down, but her loose espresso and plum curls perfectly framed her face and softened her slightly high cheekbones. Every so often, her grey eyes would slip his direction before turning resolutely back to the bar.

Peggy and Steve faced each other and stood as close as they could without touching. Deep in conversation, the couple seemed completely oblivious to the entire world around them, including their distressed friends. It was then that Bucky realized he'd been set up and so had Sadie.

"They're not coming back, are they?" Sadie wondered, resting her chin in her hands.

"Nope," said Bucky, popping the 'p.'

Silence followed, leaving Bucky desperate to find something to talk about or else Sadie would certainly leave. He allowed his eyes to flicker back to Sadie once more, drinking in her profile, chin resting in her hand. Think of something funny to say! His internal yelling was getting him absolutely nowhere. Sadie shifted uncomfortably in her seat and checked her phone. She was going to leave and Bucky's window of opportunity would close, maybe for good. The first words that popped into his brain came tumbling from his lips.

"What do you want to bet Steve chickens out again?"

Sadie tore her stormy eyes from her phone to stare at Bucky, mouth rounding in soft surprise. For a handful of terrible seconds, Bucky thought he'd crossed the line yet again. But then her lips pulled into a wicked sort of smile. "Why waste the money when we both know it's not going to happen?"

Bucky slumped in relief that his gamble paid off. "That's a fair point. But come on, could they be any more obvious?" He gestured towards the couple.

Sure enough, Peggy was leaning in closer to hear Steve while he tried his hardest not to appear too love-struck. "Well, sometimes it's hard to see the obvious when you're actually in it," reasoned Sadie. "Besides, they aren't the only doomed coupling at the bar."

Discretely, Sadie pointed to a young man a few stools away trying his best to keep the attention of his companion, a petite girl with rich brown skin and luxurious hair. Every so often the man would find an excuse to drape his arm on the back of her barstool or to gently touch her shoulder. The girl, however, had other ideas on her mind as she kept craning her neck for a better view of the handsome bartender.

"What do you think, date gone wrong? Or she's too nice to say no to his bad pick-up attempts?"

Sadie grinned at his question, releasing fresh warmth into his chest. Until now, Bucky wasn't even sure he could make Sadie smile. He was so glad he could. Although she didn't know it, Sadie's smile could light up a room. "I think date gone wrong. Who tries to pick up girls at a bar like this?"

Shrugging, Bucky pushed the sleeves of his shirt higher up his forearms. "You'd be surprised how many sleaze bags there are in this town. If they throw on a nice enough shirt and spout some bullshit terms about wine then Stems is as good of a place as any."

"You know this from experience?"

Bucky particularly enjoyed the way Sadie clapped her hand over her mouth in surprise at her own words. A pink flush pooled in her cheeks and she looked even more beautiful because of it. Call it masochism or just plain idiocy, but Bucky had always liked women who insulted him.

"Not that you're a sleaze," she said hurriedly, clearly mortified. "What I meant was-oh damnit there's just no way to backtrack out of that, is there?"

"Not really, but keep trying, it's very entertaining."

Sadie's embarrassment faded into a mild scowl. "Don't push your luck, Barnes," she warned. "I still haven't forgotten about what you said at The Eighteenth."

Bucky had been foolishly banking on her forgetting. Suddenly nervous all over again, Bucky toyed with the buckle on his watch strap. "I'm sorry about that, by the way," he said. "I was a jerk and I obviously overstepped my bounds and offended you. It was unintentional, I promise."

Sadie pursed her lips together, staring at the table top. "Thanks, and just as long as it doesn't happen again don't worry about it."

Bucky doubted he'd get more out of her and he wondered if she, like him, preferred to avoid these particular uncomfortable conversations. Choosing to take another stab in the dark, he left that topic altogether. "To answer your previous question, I have never tried to meet girls here. Wine flights and cheeses that I can't pronounce are not in my wheelhouse."

"Mine either," Sadie admitted, giving him a sideways glance. "I'll take a good rooftop patio or sports bar any day."

Finally, a piece of concrete, useable information! After weeks of trying to dig something out of Sadie, Bucky at last had real facts to work with. He'd tried his best to get into her good graces, when apparently all it took was an apology and a few crass remarks about other couples.

"Have you been to Hermann's off seventh street? It's got a great deck and the best grilled cheese in town."

Sadie arched an eyebrow. "Grilled cheese?"

Bucky grinned at her confusion. "Buffalo chicken, blue cheese, sautéed onions, and white American cheese."

"Well, now I'm starving, thanks for that," she teased him. "That does sound amazing, though."

What Bucky did next would go down as one of the better decisions of his life, though he hadn't felt nearly as confident in the moment. "The kitchen stays open until eleven and I know the bartender working tonight. Want to get out of here?"

Her pale pink lips parted in surprise and Bucky had to force himself to not stare at them. There were plenty of girls he'd seen who may qualify as prettier than Sadie Reid, but none of them had a mouth quite so perfect. Sadie's stormy eyes darted to Steve and Peggy. The pair were still ensconced in their own little world, they hadn't even looked back at their friends once. "The wonder couple isn't going to miss us," said Bucky gently. "Come on, it's on me."

Sadie slowly nodded, still not tearing her eyes from Peggy and Steve. "Maybe we should tell them."

"And ruin the joy of their confused faces when they see we're gone?" Bucky countered. Sadie's lips twitched. He reached into his back pocket for his wallet and threw a ten on the table. "So, what'll it be, a night spent watching our best friends act like love-struck idiots? Or really good grilled cheese and football?"

Bucky could see the war playing out on Sadie's face. For the better part of three weeks Sadie Reid wanted absolutely nothing to do with him and in the span of an evening, she was considering going off alone with him. Would she cling fast to her first opinion of him? Or was Sadie Reid able to admit that maybe she misjudged him? Bucky said a silent prayer to the universe for the latter.

"Okay," she said. "But I am not walking there in these shoes."

Her words were an open invitation for Bucky to look down. He swallowed hard. The high heels she wore did her legs a hundred different kinds of justice. "I can fix that," he said, hoping his voice didn't betray him. Bucky jerked his head towards the door. "Ready?"

Their departure prompted Peggy and Steve to share a high-five, ordering another round to revel in their success.

X X X

Sadie was amazed she didn't need ice skates as she followed Bucky out of Stems. After all, hell had clearly frozen over. There was simply no other explanation for why she was letting Bucky Barnes take her away from the relatively safe, if somewhat useless, company of her friends. And all to go get grilled cheese at a bar on seventh street. If Betty or Evie knew what she was doing they'd probably commit her.

The night was particularly fine, crisp without being cold. A thin veneer of cloud cover obscured most of the stars and the half-moon peered over the parking lot. Bucky's hair had a silvery cast in the light as he jogged lightly down the stairs from the doors, pausing to wait for her. Live music drifted from a nearby bar, reminding Sadie that the rest of ninth street was booming.

"So, how long do you think it takes them to realize we've left?" Bucky asked casually, fishing his keys out of his pocket.

"I give it at least another glass of chardonnay," joked Sadie.

Bucky laughed as he walked next to her. Sadie began to look around the parking lot, wondering what kind of car Bucky drove. He didn't seem to fit a predictable mold and as she contemplated the possibilities, Bucky came to a halt.

"It might not be the most comfortable ride in a dress and heels, but you should be fine."

A motorcycle.

Sadie realized that she shouldn't be surprised at all. Of course Bucky drove a motorcycle, what else would he drive? It seemed so obvious now. The problem was that Sadie had never been on a motorcycle once in her life. Even the mere prospect of climbing onto the back of one wearing high heels didn't sit well. Bucky read the hesitance on her face and he tried his best not to smile.

"Never been on a bike before?" He asked, swinging his leg over it and taking the helmet off his handlebars.

Sadie shook her head. "This may come as a shock to you, but I'm not really the motorcycle type of girl."

Bucky stood astride on his bike and held the extra helmet out to Sadie. The smile on his face was not one she'd seen before. Devoid of his usual sarcasm, Bucky looked at her hopefully, the smile acting as a genuine invitation.

"Do you trust me?" He asked.

Sadie shifted her weight, wondering if she was actually crazy to accept his offer. Peggy's words echoed in her mind. Do something impulsive for once in your life Sadie Reid, or else you'll graduate and regret it forever. Well, Sadie couldn't think of anything more impulsive than getting on the back of a motorcycle belonging to the guy that had annoyed her for three straight weeks. Besides, she thought as she made up her mind, Bucky really wasn't even all that bad. Sadie stepped forward and took the helmet from him, smiling mischievously before she spoke.

"Not even a little bit."

A/N: Soooo, what did you guys think? The next part picks up right where we leave off and brings in more Marvel characters. We'll explore Sadie and Bucky's growing friendship and grilled cheese (that sandwich is a real thing, actually, and its delicious).

Let me know what you think, good? Bad? Kind of crazy? Want more banter? I love hearing/reading your feedback! Much love – Kappa.