Observation
The bar is called Fizz, and on Monday nights, they host a live band and four straight hours of swing dancing.
The first few times they went, Bucky had just stared for most of the night. “We never did that,” he’d murmur from time to time. But then he’d start to grin, and add, “But I like it.” The moves, the outfits, the makeup, the hair, it was only glancingly “period.” Steve would watch him.
“You want to get in there?”
But Bucky would just shake his head.
This went on for weeks. Each Monday, after every other day of training or adjusting or fighting like old friends, Bucky would start getting ready, earlier and earlier, impatient without knowing he was. Steve sometimes pretended to take longer than he’d need, because Bucky would, when he thought no one was looking, shuffle in time near the door: quick-quick slow, slow; quick-quick slow, slow.
Tonight, Steve sits alone at the bar, his arms crossed over his chest. A lady, who’s obviously been wanting to, sashays up to him, smiling. “You want to dance?” she asks, and he gives her a well-practiced smile.
“I never learned how. You probably want someone better."
She grins. “I teach here. You can follow, if you want.”
"Thanks.” He smiles. “I’m just here to watch, though.”
She follows his eye to the floor. Bucky hasn’t stopped all night. He moves smoothly, confidently, with as much grace as anyone could employ. It jars Steve to see him like that; he’ll get flashes of that footwork from the fight on the bridge, or the sparring session he watched last night, but even those were tinged with the dancing first. Bucky was always trying to get him to come see what the fuss was about, back when they were young, before.
That looks like his friend — one hand on a pretty girl’s hip, coasting and swinging all over the floor; the way Bucky’s face has relaxed, the way he smiles, the way he guides and leads and lets them get close.
Steve’s would-be partner pulls an appreciative face. He laughs. “You should ask him. He needs the practice.”
“Yeah,” she says, grinning. “But watching is pretty nice too.”