[ She understands how difficult it can be to try and step into an old skin. Perhaps it's not quite the same thing, with her spy's life, but Bucky was pulled into covert operations and although the circumstances differ, there's a thread of similarity and commiseration that goes with that. Remembering who you can be around people you deem are safe takes some getting used to, after a lifetime of masks.
She hasn't lived as long as he has, but she can imagine a little. She can never fully relax unless she's around him or Steve. Because he knew her like that, too. ]
I've never forgotten, [ she says with a quiet smile, taking a seat at the bar. She raps her knuckles expertly on the counter to get the bartender's attention and somehow, smoothly, talks her way out of a dizzying concoction of a beverage and gets the closest thing to a whiskey on this side of the galaxy. ] Care to join me? Or were you just my chivalrous escort?
[ She rests her elbow on the bar and her chin in hand, brow quirking. ]
[ Bucky's mind isn't just wrapped up in safety, but also in the general struggle to remember at all. At first, he hadn't even known who Steve had been to him. Now, he still doesn't remember everything. It's okay, though. He remembers the important parts and he trusts Steve to fill in the rest when he can't.
Peggy, too, has been nothing but welcoming and kind and he's got no reason to see her as anything more or less than the smart, capable, good woman he'd always seen her to be. She's a lot like Steve in some ways and maybe a little bit like Bucky, too. Maybe that's why it's so easy to get along with her and feel at ease. It's not just that she'd known him before. Much as he'd grown to really care about them, he doubts he'd feel this comfortable if Dum Dum or Gabe were here.
He rests his elbows on the bar, mirroring her. ]
I wouldn't dream of leaving you without the best company I can provide.
[ It's easy to joke, but it's a nice change to do it because he can and not because he's deflecting. ]
[ His answer seems to satisfy her, judging by how easily he elicits a chuckle from her. ]
I have no doubt, sergeant.
[ Peggy isn't one for small talk and something tells her Bucky isn't, either, although she can't be certain. Even with the years spent together on the front lines (although she was often off doing her own missions), she feels she knows the other Commandos a hair better than she knows this one. Although that may also be because they all bonded in the wake of losing two of their own in such a short amount of time. Grief does strange things.
It isn't until her drink arrives that Peggy follows up on her last statement, voice more politely curious than anything else. ]
Do you mind if I call you that? Old habits, is all. I understand if you'd prefer something else these days.
[ He takes a moment to think about that question. He doesn't feel like much of a sergeant anymore, but some days he barely feels like Bucky Barnes at all. Peggy and Steve make him feel a lot more firm about who he is. It's like they can see it, so it must be true. After being on his own for so long, more questions than answers and only his guilt and nightmares for company, he welcomes the feeling that someone is looking at him and seeing something good. ]
No, it's okay.
[ His metal hand fidgets. He thinks he'd tell anyone else not to, but she's different and she makes him want to be different. ]
Bucky's fine, too. Long as no one's trying to call me James, I think we're good.
bucky barnes | cantina
[ She understands how difficult it can be to try and step into an old skin. Perhaps it's not quite the same thing, with her spy's life, but Bucky was pulled into covert operations and although the circumstances differ, there's a thread of similarity and commiseration that goes with that. Remembering who you can be around people you deem are safe takes some getting used to, after a lifetime of masks.
She hasn't lived as long as he has, but she can imagine a little. She can never fully relax unless she's around him or Steve. Because he knew her like that, too. ]
I've never forgotten, [ she says with a quiet smile, taking a seat at the bar. She raps her knuckles expertly on the counter to get the bartender's attention and somehow, smoothly, talks her way out of a dizzying concoction of a beverage and gets the closest thing to a whiskey on this side of the galaxy. ] Care to join me? Or were you just my chivalrous escort?
[ She rests her elbow on the bar and her chin in hand, brow quirking. ]
Bit rude to leave a lady to drink alone.
no subject
Peggy, too, has been nothing but welcoming and kind and he's got no reason to see her as anything more or less than the smart, capable, good woman he'd always seen her to be. She's a lot like Steve in some ways and maybe a little bit like Bucky, too. Maybe that's why it's so easy to get along with her and feel at ease. It's not just that she'd known him before. Much as he'd grown to really care about them, he doubts he'd feel this comfortable if Dum Dum or Gabe were here.
He rests his elbows on the bar, mirroring her. ]
I wouldn't dream of leaving you without the best company I can provide.
[ It's easy to joke, but it's a nice change to do it because he can and not because he's deflecting. ]
no subject
I have no doubt, sergeant.
[ Peggy isn't one for small talk and something tells her Bucky isn't, either, although she can't be certain. Even with the years spent together on the front lines (although she was often off doing her own missions), she feels she knows the other Commandos a hair better than she knows this one. Although that may also be because they all bonded in the wake of losing two of their own in such a short amount of time. Grief does strange things.
It isn't until her drink arrives that Peggy follows up on her last statement, voice more politely curious than anything else. ]
Do you mind if I call you that? Old habits, is all. I understand if you'd prefer something else these days.
no subject
No, it's okay.
[ His metal hand fidgets. He thinks he'd tell anyone else not to, but she's different and she makes him want to be different. ]
Bucky's fine, too. Long as no one's trying to call me James, I think we're good.