Steph glanced at the photo on Bucky's pocketwatch, no longer surprised it was a photo of her — but by which one. She didn't remember that photo. When had he taken it? She couldn't tell without prying and really looking. That brought an unexpected pang in her chest, and she regretted having left her timeline at all.
Thankfully, they were moving before she had the chance to start spiraling again. Though it hadn't been her intention when she suggested it, cooking was hopefully going to save her from doing something stupid tonight. Like try to drown herself.
"Mine," she answered when he asked whose place, if only because she had the seasonings and the spices. There were also a few other things she'd brought with her that he might be interested in seeing; that was if the war hadn't burned the science fiction nerd out of him anyway. But there were also her sketchpads. She already had several, even if she started from scratch when she traveled back.
Probably the most surprising thing about her art would be how she had some in color, and how Bucky's eyes were the correct shade of steel blue.
She gave him the list of ingredients she still needed, as well as her address, which, while in Brooklyn, was in one of the seediest neighborhoods. "We might have to get you a hat," she said. "I know several ladies on my floor who would try to steal you away if they recognize you."
Even in her world, she and the Howlies had been popular. They were basically the Avengers of their era, with books and films and merchandise and everything. She never saw it firsthand though, as she'd gone under before the war was officially over. Seeing it now was kind of surreal, and while Peggy was popular, New York — particularly Brooklyn — was Sergeant Barnes' home turf. He was their golden boy, their claim to fame.
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Thankfully, they were moving before she had the chance to start spiraling again. Though it hadn't been her intention when she suggested it, cooking was hopefully going to save her from doing something stupid tonight. Like try to drown herself.
"Mine," she answered when he asked whose place, if only because she had the seasonings and the spices. There were also a few other things she'd brought with her that he might be interested in seeing; that was if the war hadn't burned the science fiction nerd out of him anyway. But there were also her sketchpads. She already had several, even if she started from scratch when she traveled back.
Probably the most surprising thing about her art would be how she had some in color, and how Bucky's eyes were the correct shade of steel blue.
She gave him the list of ingredients she still needed, as well as her address, which, while in Brooklyn, was in one of the seediest neighborhoods. "We might have to get you a hat," she said. "I know several ladies on my floor who would try to steal you away if they recognize you."
Even in her world, she and the Howlies had been popular. They were basically the Avengers of their era, with books and films and merchandise and everything. She never saw it firsthand though, as she'd gone under before the war was officially over. Seeing it now was kind of surreal, and while Peggy was popular, New York — particularly Brooklyn — was Sergeant Barnes' home turf. He was their golden boy, their claim to fame.