Disclaimer, we all know the drill. I don't Marvel. Recognize it from the movies? Then it's not mine.

I was too psyched to take a break and just decided to jump right in writing chapter one, so here we go!

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah." comes the same kind of scolding that she's been hearing for weeks now. Ever since she'd announced her pregnancy at the end of November, ever one was tip-toeing around her. Granted Christina had put off telling anyone until she no longer had a choice, by her fifth month she'd finally begun to show too much to continue the ruse and decided it best to beat people to the punch and tell them before they started asking.

After taking that fateful test Christina automatically makes a discrete appointment with a highly commended OBGYN, which only confirms what she already knows to be true. Dr. Brown rubs freezing cold jelly on her stomach and tells her a ton of information that makes the blonde freak out as they look for the blurry image on the ultrasound. She's four weeks along, nearly five. When the doctor sees the petrified look on her face she asks her more questions, about her work, and her health— stiffly avoiding questions about the father.

Dr. Brown cautiously lets her know that five months is within the window in which an abortion could still be carried out, though the nearest state where it's legal upon request is New York. Christina nods, fully aware, but she sees the tiny dot on the screen and knows that it's there because of Winter and her. A tiny little life that half belongs to him and she knows that she could never snuff that out, even if for her own sake. She tells the doctor she appreciates the gesture— many petrified, high profile women approach Dr. Brown with problems like hers— but she won't be needing one.

So the doctor smiles, congratulates her and begins telling her all kinds of information. That her baby's brain, and spinal cord, and nerves are beginning to form. How the amniotic sac now houses the embryo, which is only the size of a single sesame seed at that point. As Christina makes her way home via the metro, she stares at the ultrasound photo and can hardly imagine that in another eight months an entire human will come for that little dot.

Hiding it from people is surprisingly easy. After all she lives alone— which makes tucking away her morning sickness an easy task, she has no man in her life— that people know of, she's long since given up drinking— so no one is any the wiser when she sticks to non-alcoholic drinks, and as it's her first pregnancy— her belly took it's time expanding. Her food and smell aversions are more obvious, but most chalk it up to her plain pickiness.

~Pomegranate Kin~

Keeping her little secret is hardest from Rumlow and Deja. Once she learns she's pregnant she's forced to cut back on her sessions with Rumlow, though she still frequents the Triskelion to visit him and her father. But, withholding it from Deja has been hard on her. She's her best friend, and she and Aarav have been trying for a child of their own for a few months now. Christina feels guilty, keeping it from everyone, but in Winter's absence she feels helpless and afraid of what's to come. She doesn't know what to tell Deja. She knows she'll expect the full scoop, will want to know who the father is.

Christina can't handle that. For months she tiptoes around it, always looking for the easiest way to tell people; Rumlow, her best friend, her father. Everyone will want answers and telling them that there isn't a father, admitting that he's gone, means facing the fact she'll be raising this child alone. That holds her back for months.

Though she stops sparring with Rumlow, she keeps up their exercise regime for as long as she can manage, the intensity decreasing with each passing month, but she knows exercise is good for her pregnancy. She begins visiting her father more, often camping out with him in his office, working in comfortable silence on their own respective paperwork. She continues working at the firm, taking on cases, though she tries to avoid those more emotionally taxing.

Months pass and she sees the first glimpses of the famed Captain America, who had transferred to the Triskelion from the New York S.H.I.E.L.D. division. He is exactly as he photo depicts, all muscle and bone, and handsome righteousness. He is a symbol for justice and Christina is a little starstruck the first time she lays eyes on him. Luckily the first time she's formally introduced to him she's seen him in passing a few times already. The meeting is only brief, as the Captain files into the elevator alongside her and Brock.

The Avenger addresses him as Agent Rumlow and it makes Christina snicker, in revenge Brock introduces her as a big fan of the superhero. It's not technically a lie. Steven Rogers is a very polite, charming man, a true gentlemen. It tugs her heartstrings a little, but then she's reminded on the man she'd fallen in love with and recalls that heroes and gentlemen aren't exactly her type. Neither are blondes. In short it merely makes her miss Winter again.

~Pomegranate Kin~

By week fifteen Christina's baby bump has begun to properly form, but not to the point she has to tell anyone. She passes it off as gained weight, just fat. She wears loose fitting clothes, baggy tops and flowing dresses. It works, until month number five. Come November, Christina's belly is bigger than her loose dresses and roomy clothes can hide. So she tells Deja first.

Her best friend is a little hurt at the admission— though she says nothing Christina can tell. She'd wanted to tell her, truly. But, didn't know how she would answer the questions. Lucky for her, her best friend is genuinely excited for the baby. Deja and Aarav have been trying for a few months now, not making any active effort, but foregoing contraceptives now that they're married. Deja is admittedly a little jealous, but truly happy for her.

Next comes Rumlow, who has been worried and possibly suspicious over what he believes to be a steady decline in her health. He's surprised, but it all seems to click after he learns, seems almost happy for her even. "Why didn't you just say so?" Brock asks later on and she tells him the truth, she didn't know how what she'd tell people when the questions would come. "The truth?" Jokes Rumlow, not knowing how it stabs her straight in the heart. The truth, is a thing lost on her now.

Christina is sure, once it's her father's turn that he won't share Deja's sentiment or Rumlow's favorable reception, but she's a little surprised when he doesn't explode. He's firm, clearly upset, but all-in-all accepting— not that he has much choice. Alexander Pierce is a conservative, he likes for things to be wholesome and traditional, stereotypical white-collar American, plain white bread. He didn't imagine grandchildren for at least another few more years, by then he imagined his daughter would have married, settled down, found a husband.

It's a round-about manner, but at the very least he'll be having grandchildren at all— what with the rate she'd been going, single nearing thirty, with little to show for it. Christina is five months along and the baby is healthy which is all he can hope for in a situation as mucked up as the current one. The only question that remains being; who is the father?

Christina tells everyone that the father is out of the picture— which isn't a lie, Winter has been semi-permanently to major operations back in Russia. For all she knows they may never meet each other again. After all, five whole months had passed and there's still no news of him returning to The Vault. So admitting she'll be raising her child alone— a single mother with no ties to any man— is all but the truth. Her father refuses to accept that at first, insists to know who the father may be, thinking perhaps Christina and the man could work through whatever fall out they'd had. Alexander Pierce suspects maybe it's a client from the firm or a co-worker. He asks if she needs for someone to handle him, and though she don't know exactly what he means by that, she assures she has it taken care of. She'd be a single mother and that's that.

~Pomegranate Kin~

"Put that down." Rumlow scolds, zipping across the room in the blink of an eye to take a moving box from Christina's hands. The blonde huffs, crossing her arms over her protruding belly. "I'm pregnant, not invalid, Brock." She hisses, before settling down on a nearby chair with a pout. She can hear her friends laughing in the background and looks up as Deja makes her way into the living room of Christina's messy apartment.

"Hey, don't take it out on me, Juno. Doc said no heavy lifting." Rumlow chuckles, holding up one hand in surrender, the other balancing the box he'd stolen. "Agent's right, Chrissie. Dr. Brown said nothing over twenty pounds, that box probably weights more than that." Defends Deja, tucking a stack of dishes under her arm before joining the pregnant woman on the couch. "You could help me wrap the dishes for packing?" Offers her best friend, grinning at Christina's obvious annoyance. She hates being cut out of the action.

"Actually, I think that's enough for today." Brock inserts, "Your father hired a crew, they're coming in half an hour. I've got things here, you guys go to that exhibit or whatever." Christina prickles up at his suggestion, before becoming distracted by the other half of his sentence. "Go where?" Questions the blonde. Deja grins, jumping up excitedly as Aarav exits the kitchen with a big grin plastered on his face. "They gave the Captain America exhibit a makeover down at the Smithsonian and we thought it'd be cool to go see. Besides you've gotta get out of the house."

As the married couple is gathering everything they might need Christina slips aside and joins Rumlow where he's packing things up in the hallway. "You sure you don't wanna join us?" Asks the blonde with a teasing smile, though she already knows his answer. Rumlow out right laughs, shaking his head as he rises to his full height. He helps the pregnant woman pull her leather jacket on over the blue sweater she's wearing before replying, "At the Captain America exhibit? No thanks, Chris. If I wanna see the guy, I'll do it at work." So, off to the Smithsonian National Museum of American History they go.

~Pomegranate Kin~

On the car ride over Christina is reminded of one of the harder challenges of the single parent role; thinking of baby names. Deja begins insisting to know her ideas, demanding to know what her future god-son (or god-daughter, one can never be a hundred percent) will be called. Truthfully the mommy-to-be is at a loss. She doesn't know what to name the kid and without Winter there to give his own suggestions, the blonde feels like she'll never be able to choose.

At the eighteen week mark Dr. Brown had asked her if she wanted to know the gender and Christina had been reluctant. After all at that point she still had yet to tell anyone and she was all alone, but she also knew that she would love it regardless of the sex. It's a part of her and of Winter, that's the only thing that matters. So she turns the doctor down, at least at first, but after announcing everyone began asking and it made her curious again.

When Christina finally asks Dr. Brown tells her that it's a boy, though there is always room for ultrasound viewing errors. The doctor says to accompany professional opinion with what her body and her gut are telling her. Based upon the vast decrease nausea and morning sickness that came with her second trimester, the cravings for salty food and red meat— hamburgers, mexican food, and string cheese have been staples for her the last month or so, the low-seated position of her baby bump, her glowing complexion, and the steady heartbeat rate that always reads below 140 bpm are all old-wife tells that she's going to be having a boy.

Christina couldn't be more thrilled, she wants a son. A dark haired, steel eyed little man, just like his father. But, she knows that regardless of gender or appearance, they'll be the next love of her life. At the very least she could have something of Winter's to hold onto. Which brings her back to the task at hand; what she should name her child.

"I honestly don't know, Dey," She insists, voice small as he rubs her hand over her belly. Of course she has a few names in mind, what expecting mother doesn't? But, there's always a whisper in her ear that asks if the father would approve. What names would Winter like? Would he like the names she'd picked out? Would he have in put of his own? Ultimately it's Deja and her family's deep-seated superstitions that make her buckle down on some options. "You have to give them names or they'll never come to life." Her grandmother had said over tea one afternoon. Deja had spent the entire afternoon apologizing afterwards, but at the very least it made Christina think of what the hell to name her baby.

Christina is a fan of more traditional names. Henry, William, Jonathan, Nathaniel, and the like. She even has a couple girl names picked out— Elisabeth, Charlotte, Amelia— in the event all of them being mistaken. But, would Winter like them? Which of them would he choose? It's questions like the latter that make Christina second guess this whole single parent thing.

~Pomegranate Kin~

The Captain America exhibit is inspiring, if not a little awkward because she's met him on more than one occasion by now. It's filled with visuals and information, a great deal of which Christina is already aware of, thanks to history class and many a documentary— in American History she'd written her term paper on The World's First Super Soldier.

In the exhibit's main hall is flanked on the far side with a row of mannequins, each of them dressed in the battle gear of a different member of the Howling Commandos, with Captain America anchored at the center. Behind the costume display is a mural of each corresponding commando and standing as the Captain's right hand man is a face that is strikingly familiar.

Christina stands staring for the longest while, trying to put a finger on it, even as her eyes begin to grow wet with tears. To her right she hears the information audio playing overhear and is turned toward the memorial it's reading out. With crippling hesitation and a sinking feeling in her gut, she stops in front of the display titled A Fallen Comrade. A black and white portrait stares back at her and everything is wrong, wrong, wrong.

The eyes that stare back at her are so painfully familiar but they can't be right. The photo is decades old, but the jawline is there, the dust of stubble, the cheekbones, the prominent nose and soulful eyes. She knows that face. The photo is all wrong, all wrong, but she knows it's Winter because she just knows. Reading the name on the memorial over and over again, Christina can't stop the tears from falling. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, James Buchanan Barnes, James Buchanan Barnes, James Buchanan Barnes, James Buchanan Bar—

"Chrissie, are you alright?!" Deja exclaims, rushing over to the sobbing pregnant woman. Blubbering, all the blonde can do is gesture endlessly at the picture of her lover— her Winter when he was another man in another life— and sobbing about how goddamn sad it is. How goddamn tragic, how did this happen? How did this happen to him?

Now his sudden reassignment makes so much sense, Hydra couldn't have the Winter Soldier running free around Washington D.C. with his former best friend, Captain America having transferred to the Triskelion. In the car she sits beside Deja in the back seat, her best friend trying to calm down the near inconsolable blonde. All Christina can think of is that picture, of the grainy footage of him laughing beside Captain America, looking happier than she's ever seen him as long as she's known him. How all this time he'd had a name. James Buchanan Barnes.

Sniffling and wiping her tears, she leans against Deja in an almost defeated manner. Her best friend rubs her shoulders, tucks her head against her shoulder and rakes a comforting hand through Christina's blonde hair. Looking down at her swollen belly, she places both hands on it, rubbing affectionately, suddenly overcome with resolve. "I'm gonna name him James," she tells the couple. Confused and a bit concerned with her moodswings, Deja and Aarav write it off as pregnancy brain and congratulate her. "James is a lovely name."

A/N: Thanks to those of you who liked part one enough to follow me all the way to this point!
What are our hopes for Christina, Bucky Jr, and the big guy himself? What are we hoping to see and what do you think might be coming for Christina?
Thank you for reading and feel free to leave some feedback to let me know what we're hoping for in the installment of our couples' little story.